This one’s a couple of months old, but good for Women’s History Month.

William Merritt Chase, the Accidental Ally

Painter William Merritt Chase opened an art school for a new generation of women, teaching them how to draw as well as how to advocate for themselves.

William Merritt Chase with Parsons School of Design students via Wikimedia Commons

The story of the establishment of the Chase School of Art, forerunner of the Parsons School of Design in New York, offers an unlikely object lesson in what happens when you seek to realize your creative aspirations in an era of political and cultural upheaval. In 1896, the Impressionist painter William Merritt Chase was ready to declare independence from the rigid hierarchies of the New York art scene and its dependence on European masters and methods. He dreamed of establishing what he considered an explicitly American school of art, one that encouraged artists to embrace and portray the unique character and energy of the young nation and its people, and he needed money. To get it, he founded an experimental new school for painting in Manhattan that would, ironically, thrive on the burgeoning hopes of women in an era of their growing liberty and opportunity.

Best remembered for society portraits, plein air paintings, pastel seascapes, dead fish still lifes, and depictions of dancing white clouds, Chase suddenly found himself in an unfamiliar role: he was, if not quite an equal rights leader, then an ambitious artist who, in pursuing his own interests, opened avenues for women artists and played a part in establishing a new era of American art beyond his own envisioning.

As June L. Ness writes in Archives of the American Art Journal, Chase stood among the most influential artists and art teachers in the country at the turn of the twentieth century. He was on the faculty at the Art Students League, the Brooklyn Art Association, and the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts; he instructed a cadre of private students in his home studios and abroad; he lectured in Connecticut, Chicago, and elsewhere; and he oversaw a summer art school outside the Long Island town of Southampton.

A man of his times, Chase and his wife, Alice Gerson, an amateur photographer, ran at the limits of their finances. In 1896, as parents to four children, they faced a turning point. Chase wanted to quit teaching altogether and devote himself to painting. Yet the couple also wanted to maintain luxury residences in both the city and the country while traveling extensively but lacked the resources to sustain such a lifestyle. (snip-MORE, plus art!)

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Cadged these snippets from my Naked Pastor email:

So when someone says, “You’re okay,” it can feel naive. Or rebellious. Or even offensive. But what if it’s neither naive nor rebellious? What if it’s simply true?  Cartoon: You’re not broken  Dad Joke: I’m confused  Quote: The illusion  Original: My Strength That Is Within Me  Merch of the Week: Jesus Eraser Sticker

Cartoon of the Week

You’re not broken.

I mean it.

Dad Joke

I keep saying “It is what it is,” but what even is it???

Quote

I recently saw a clip from a Leonard Cohen interview. She asked him about him spending time with Roshi in a Zen monastery. He said it was like a hospital, and Roshi was the doctor. The interviewer asked what he cured him from. Cohen replied, “The illusion that you are sick. He cured me of the illusion that I needed his teachings.”

You’re Okay!

Let’s make this one short and sweet. I agree with Cohen. I also agree with Sinéad O’Connor’s therapist, who told her the whole point of therapy was to help her realize she didn’t need therapy. The same with Gabor Maté, who said that I am not broken, but just wounded. Underneath the wounds and pain is wholeness. A wholeness already there, just waiting to be embraced. These all ring true to me. When I share cartoons like the one here, The Best Healing, I get some positive comments, but also a lot of angry and offended ones. And I understand why. I, too, was raised to believe that I was born a sinner, deeply broken and flawed and depraved, in need of a saviour to redeem me. The whole theological system and enterprise is founded upon the assertion that I am a vile sinner who needs to be saved by a divine being.I know how difficult it is to walk away from this belief, because it’s not just a belief, but a whole worldview, an entire paradigm, complete with its religion, institution, scriptures, and priests. It’s like leaving the universe to start over in a new one. One that says you’re okay. It’s a radical step, and maybe you have taken it. I’m proud of you for that.