- 22
Norman Rockwell 1894 - 1978
Description
- Norman Rockwell
- Hobo and Dog (Tramp and Dog)
- signed Norman Rockwell and dated '24 (lower right)
- oil on canvas
- 27 by 21 inches
- (68.6 by 53.3 cm)
Provenance
Continental Group, Stamford, Connecticut
Gift to the present owner from the above, 1981
Exhibited
Literature
Norman Rockwell, The Norman Rockwell Album, Garden City, New York, 1961, illustrated p. 32
Thomas Buechner, Norman Rockwell: Artist & Illustrator, New York, 1970, illustrated fig. 197, p. 106
Christopher Finch, Norman Rockwell’s America, New York, 1975, p. 126, illustrated fig. 156, p. 127
Dr. Donald Stoltz and Marshall L. Stoltz, Norman Rockwell and ‘The Saturday Evening Post:’ 1916-1928, New York, 1976, vol. I, p. 143, illustrated p. 144
Mary Moline, Norman Rockwell Encyclopedia: A Chronological Catalogue of the Artist’s Work 1910-1978, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1979, illustrated fig. 1-180, p. 45
Laurie Norton Moffatt, Norman Rockwell: A Definitive Catalogue, Stockbridge, Massachusetts, 1986, vol. I, no. C260, p. 99, illustrated p. 98
Norman Rockwell, My Life as an Illustrator, New York, 1988, p. 204, illustrated
Jan Cohn, Covers of “The Saturday Evening Post:" Seventy Years of Outstanding Illustration from America’s Favorite Magazine, New York, 1995, illustrated p. 111
Catalogue Note
Appearing on the cover of The Post on October 18, 1924, Hobo and Dog features one of Rockwell’s favorite models of the period, James K. Van Brunt. Van Brunt posed for Rockwell as a number of characters in a variety of narratives, including an apothecary (Druggist and Boy with a Cold, 1939, Private Collection), a melancholy cowboy (Dreams of Long Ago, 1927, Private Collection) and as three old ladies gossiping (The Gossips, 1929, Private Collection). In the present picture, Rockwell sympathetically depicts Van Brunt as a tramp roasting two sausages—one for himself and one for his dog—on a stick over a fire in a can. Hobos were among the artist's favorite subjects in the first half of his career and he consistently rendered them with compassion and empathy.
Rockwell recalled the day that the animated Van Brunt first arrived at his studio in New Rochelle: “I remember it was June and terribly hot…Suddenly the downstairs door banged and I heard someone come up the stairs treading on each stair with a loud, deliberate thump. My word, I thought, here comes a monster. A sharp, peremptory knock rattled the door…The door was thrust open by a tiny old man with a knobby nose, an immense, drooping mustache, and round, heavy-lidded eyes stamped bellicosely into the studio. ‘James K. Van Brunt, sir’ he said, saluting me and bowing all at once. ‘Five feet two inches tall, sir. The exact height of Napoleon Bonaparte.’…Then, having ascertained that I wasn’t going to contradict him, he took off his gloves and his wide-brimmed hat, laid them on a chair, and patted his mustache. ‘This mustache, sir,’ he said, ‘is eight full inches wide from tip to tip. The ladies, sir, make much of it.’ And he winked at me and walked over to my mirror to stare at his mustache"(Norman Rockwell, Norman Rockwell: My Adventurers as an Illustrator, New York, 1994, p. 203). Indeed, it was this distinctive mustache that initially drew Rockwell to Van Brunt.
Executed during the eighth year of his relationship with The Saturday Evening Post, Hobo and Dog highlights Rockwell’s technical precision and masterful draftsmanship. The expressive application of paint is typical of the artist’s early work, and he renders each component of the composition—from the newspaper peeking out of the hobo’s back pocket to the woven straw boater on his head—with remarkable detail. Rockwell’s characteristic ability to depict the naturalistic aspects of a scene is simultaneously demonstrated in his treatment of such elements as the deep wrinkles on the man’s forehead and the scruffy fur of his dog. Hobo and Dog not only displays Rockwell’s sentimental sense of humor but also illustrates his quintessentially American aesthetic.