Correspondence

Avondale March 5 — 1882.

My dear Weir—

To-day will be marked in our calendar as one of much importance. We had a son born to us.[1] He is well and strong and his mother is as well as circumstances permit.

Yesterday I sent you my work which has very little new in addition to what we did in Holland. On some of these I worked but I feel that nearly all, at any rate half of them should have more work. As you see the Holland work remains the best and of two I feel advance has been made on my previous work. Some of my earlier work is better as regards unity and these last are more like studies. Write what you think of them. There are too many to send them all to the Society and if you think it advisable send some to the Academy, either my own or Mrs. Twachtman’s. Will you send this year to the A? The frames are not much of a success but it was the best I could do here and save you the trouble of framing. The one in a fancy frame with shadow-box is not for sale as it is already sold without its frame. At first we put the red-roofed houses in this fancy frame but it did not suit. The frame in which the red roofs now are seems to suit it quite well but if you think another frame would be better for it let me know. The red roofs and the small landscape in the same kind of frame I should like to put good prices on. [sketch with price of $175.] The doctor has taken a fancy to this [the small one] and the other might be good for me to keep. [another sketch of landscape with houses, with price of $200.]

I sent you the study of the girl too. What will you have to exhibit? Your water-color was highly spoken of by all the critics. The Tribune mentioned us together and I felt proud of it. You did not send any criticisms.

In my pocket I have a long letter written to you but never sent it. One naturally falls into a state of doing nothing out here. A good many people, all of them supposed to be up in art matters, have seen my paintings but I am convinced they care little for them. This is a very old foggied place and only one kind of art is considered good. The old Dusseldorf school comes in for its full share of honor. There is no good art influence here and I shall be glad to leave. We will either go to N.Y. or abroad. The latter is probably the best thing to do and then I can study independent of every thing.

You will have had enough about myself in this letter. I just now wish for a few days in N.Y. to be near you. Is it possible for one to do good work away from all sympathetic art influence? if so then my study is a failure here. I am doing nothing.

Write a long letter all about what you are doing!!

Two of those water colors are sold and will you please send them. The one with the three mills and the Venice called “View in Venice,” [sketch] we have a chance of selling, another one of Holland so will you please send them at once.

Our boy was born this morning and we have already discovered many wonderful talents in him. He is a real nice fellow.

Remember me to all in the “Benedick.”[2]

Very sincerely yours,
J. H. Twachtman

Care of
Dr. Scudder

[Weir wrote on the letter: “Afternoon in Venice” Mr. J. Twachtman, Pomegranates.”]

[1] John Alden Twachtman, born March 5, 1882.

[2] The Tuckerman Building, at 80 East Washington Square, New York was known as “the Benedick.” A six-story red brick house on Washington Square East, the structure was designed by McKim, Mead, and Bigelow. Known formally as the Tuckerman Building, after its first owner Lucius Tuckerman, the structure soon became identified as the Benedick because of its bachelor residents. The name “Benedick” was derived from the newly married, previously confirmed bachelor in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.  On the Benedick, see Paul R. Baker, “The Cultural and Bohemian Community,” in Around the Square, 1830-1890, ed. Mindy Cantor (New York: New York University, 1982), p. 67 and New York University, Bobst Library, Archives on 80 East Washington Square.