Leo G. Mazow – författare

The history of the banjo is as haunting as its music. Made popular in minstrel shows of the nineteenth century, the “banjar” derives from the stringed gourd instrument African slaves brought with them to plantations in the Caribbean and American South. From minstrelsy to the folk music revival of the twentieth century, the banjo has continued to attract audiences and acquire meaning. Picturing the Banjo gives this long history an entirely new dimension by tracing the instrument’s representation in American visual culture from the eighteenth century to the present. Published in conjunction with an exhibition of the same name, Picturing the Banjo offers the first examination of the instrument’s portrayal in images that range from anonymous photographs of performers to paintings by Thomas Eakins and prints by Dox Thrash. Leo G. Mazow, contributing editor of the volume, and his collaborators demonstrate that the banjo became an American icon that links popular music to fundamental issues of race, class, and gender. Simple and appealing as the instrument may seem in Henry Ossawa Tanner’s The Banjo Lesson or Eastman Johnson’s Old Kentucky Home, it carries powerful associations with social conflict and change. Through its many color and black-and-white illustrations, this book allows readers to experience the works of visual art and period instruments brought together in the pioneering exhibition organized by the Palmer Museum of Art of The Pennsylvania State University. Picturing the Banjo will be of interest to banjo lovers, scholars in American studies, and all those concerned with the musical and artistic heritage of slavery.

Alternately praised as “an American original” and lampooned as an arbiter of kitsch, the regionalist painter Thomas Hart Benton has been the subject of myriad monographs and journal articles, remaining almost as controversial today as he was in his own time. Missing from this literature, however, is an understanding of the profound ways in which sound figures in the artist’s enterprises. Prolonged attention to the sonic realm yields rich insights into long-established narratives, corroborating some but challenging and complicating at least as many. A self-taught and frequently performing musician who invented a harmonica tablature notation system, Benton was also a collector, cataloguer, transcriber, and distributor of popular music. In Thomas Hart Benton and the American Sound, Leo Mazow shows that the artist’s musical imagery was part of a larger belief in the capacity of sound to register and convey meaning. In Benton’s pictorial universe, it is through sound that stories are told, opinions are voiced, experiences are preserved, and history is recorded.

Although little known today, John R. Covert (1882–1960) played a pivotal role in the development of American modernism. He was a founder of the Society of Independent Artists, an active participant in the Société Anonyme, and produced innovative paintings and collage-constructions that reflect his experiences of the renowned art collection of his cousin, Walter Arensberg. Yet, in 1923, Covert broke off his association with key modernists like Marcel Duchamp and Charles Demuth, closed his New York studio, and went to work as a salesman for the Vesuvius Crucible Company of Pittsburgh. Generally, the artist’s story is thought to end there, but John Covert Rediscovered, published in conjunction with an exhibition of the same name organized by the Palmer Museum of Art, shows that Covert never abandoned his artistic endeavors even if he did spend the last decades of his life at the periphery of the art world. Drawing on Covert’s daybooks (recently conserved at the Philadelphia Museum of Art) and art in the collection of the late Charles Covert Arensberg, John Covert Rediscovered not only establishes that Covert continued his artistic explorations long after his supposed retirement in 1923 but also introduces several hitherto lost works. No less surprising and significant is its revelation that Covert became a filmmaker and prolific photographer, working both within and against modernist ideas of the image. In his introduction, Leo G. Mazow presents a new view of Covert’s multifaceted activities, including his exercises in secret writing and cryptography. John Covert Rediscovered also contains an essay by Michael R. Taylor that breaks new ground by tracing Covert’s "conversion" to modernism back to his life in Munich and Paris during the turbulent years leading up to World War I. All the art in the exhibition is reproduced in this publication, the value of which is further augmented by Leo Mazow’s informative commentaries on each art work.The exhibition, "John Covert Rediscovered," organized by the Palmer Museum of Art, has also been shown at The Demuth Foundation and will be at the Suzanne H. Arnold Gallery, Lebanon Valley College, August 28–October 12, 2003.

“I have been working with polychrome low-fire ceramics making objects and sculpture, arts, and crafts but never tiles for my floor.” —Robert Arneson, 1970 This catalogue, which accompanied an exhibition of the same name at the Palmer Museum of Art, provides new insight into the significance of the sculpture of Robert Arneson (1930–1992), an internationally acclaimed artist and influential teacher. Through much of his career, Arneson concentrated on making ceramic sculptures either of himself or of commonplace objects from bricks to toasters and telephones. Arneson’s sculptures of the stuff of everyday life, as Leo G. Mazow observes, challenge the practice of separating “craft” from “art” and, more generally, the practice of excluding everyday objects from the sphere of the museum. Mazow also discusses the sculptor’s role in the formation of Pop art and his eerie foreshadowing of certain of the politically charged themes chosen by many recent artists. In addition to Mazow’s critical essay, Arneson and the Object offers color reproductions of all the works in the 2004 exhibition at the Palmer Museum and the text of a hitherto unpublished interview with the sculptor’s widow, Sandra Shannonhouse, and his student, Stephen Kaltenbach.