- 17
Charles Ephraim Burchfield
Description
- Charles Ephraim Burchfield
- February Wind and Sunlight (The Wind Harp)
- signed with monogrammed initials CEB and dated 1947-57 (lower left); titled February Wind and Sunlight (The Wind Harp), dated February - 12 - 1947 and 1947 (57) (verso)
- watercolor and gouache on joined paper mounted on board
- 30 by 40 inches
- (76.2 by 101.6 cm)
Provenance
Acquired from the above by the present owner, 1974
Exhibited
Literature
Condition
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.
Catalogue Note
In The Wind Harp, Burchfield pays particular interest to a line of trees that operate as a natural harp, creating an image of a song, visibly passing from right to left, performed by nature. In an entry from his journals for March, 1956, Burchfield wrote of a particular row of poplar trees on his neighbor’s property:
The wind-harp – the ancients invented a harp which they placed in porches, or an open window where the wind would catch it, and in passing through the strings, make soft weird “music” – (Aeolian Harp)
Nature of course “invented” the harp long before that — Any row of pines or poplars or similar trees sufficient to produce agonizing music that no human effort could match —
It is the season when milky icicles hang down from broken ends of maple branches —below are the sun-chiseled jagged snow-piles (that tell us the angle of the sun’s rays — Trees in the foreground are dark, but these in the distant east catch the last warm yellowish glow from the last afterglow in the west — there is a chill in the air —and a feeling of expectancy — Somewhere a robin complains —it is Early Spring — (Nancy Weekly, op. cit.)