This undated photograph shows Paine holding two tankards outside the Moorings Hotel on Gorey Pier. He has drawn a caricature of himself on the reverse.` The tankards are probably the two that hung over the bar of The Moorings inscribed with Paine’s initials and those of his wife Jane.
Like many European artists from the French Impressionists onward, Paine was influenced by Japanese art. It can be seen in his simplicity of outline and composition and in the use of flat areas of bright colour. Of his poster for the 1921 boat race, for example, the author of the Modern Printmakers blog says: ‘Boat race 1921 was inconceivable without the example of Hokusai …’ (See POSTERS London Transport) Paine acknowledged his debt to Japanese art in a lecture delivered at the Blackheath School of Art in February 1939 (probable date),one of a series on the theme of ‘The Victorians and After’. He said that [the] change to effective poster art [was] largely the result of the study of the Japanese colour print with its superlatively simplified and telling design. (Blackheath Local Guide)
In 1926, while he was in Santa Barbara, his friend Teuila (Isobel Field) gave him a copy of On the Laws of Japanese Painting by Henry P. Bowie (1911). It is inscribed ‘To Charles Paine from his admiring, grateful pupil and friend Isobel Field Serena Aug 10th 1926’
This pocket-sized drawing book belonged to Paine. I have posted below all the pages in order that bear legible images. I do not know at which period of his life the book was in use. My guess is during his later years in Jersey.
The book contains what appear to be preliminary sketches for a water colour painting of a sailing ship but I have no knowledge of any such finished work.
Teri J. Edelstein, Teri J. Edelstein Associates, Museum Strategies
In 1997, a cache of posters was discovered behind a partition at the Art Institute of Chicago. Among the posters were over 300 created for “The Underground” in London. The first 39 posters arrived at the museum in 1919 as a gift of the Underground Electric Railways Company of London, Ltd. (UERL), which was founded in 1902.’
It included posters created for Underground rail trains, buses, and trams run by the company. This donation echoed that offered to the South Kensington Museum [today the Victoria & Albert Museum] on October 24, 1911, when Frank Pick, the creator of the pictorial poster campaign, wrote to the director: “I have the pleasure of sending you a roll containing a selection of posters which we have issued….We shall be pleased to supply further copies…of any posters which we issue in the future if you desire them.”
In fact, the museum did desire them. Not coincidentally, the mission of the Art Institute of Chicago, an institution incorporating a school and a museum, was related to that of the V&A, which was founded as an educational resource.
Pick conceived of the pictorial poster campaign in 1908. When tasked with spreading awareness of a new map of the system and increasing ridership, he hired the popular comic-poster designer John Hassall to create the first work. Thus began the greatest sustained poster campaign in history. The primary purpose of the posters was to boost travel. Their messages encouraged journeys during off-peak hours—weekdays between 10 and 4, as well as weekends and holidays. They also promoted leisure travel to and residence in locales on the edges of London that were now served by the company’s new train lines, busses, and trams. The campaign had the added benefit of creating goodwill.
Pick first visited Chicago in 1919, the year of the initial donation. Further gifts arrived at the museum in 1920 and continued, at irregular intervals, until 1939, when Pick left the company. Pick’s visit to Chicago, his continued gifts to the V&A, the date when the Art Institute gift ended, and his own extensive involvement with art education in the United Kingdom all suggest that Pick himself was the engine behind these donations.
Celebrating the centenary of the original gift by featuring 100 posters from the collection, Everyone’s Art Gallery: Posters of the London Underground was on view in the Prints and Drawings Galleries at the Art Institute from 25 May – 5 September 2019, curated by Teri J. Edelstein.
A chronological selection of posters from 1914 – 1939 were featured at the beginning of the exhibition. Highlights included MacDonald Gill’s By Paying Us Your Pennies (1914), a tour de force of cartography, calligraphy, puns, and allusions, that features a discontented giraffe at the Zoo who is “fed up,” acrobats at Piccadilly Circus, and a swan in search of its pen. Mary Koop was just one of numerous female artists in the exhibition, exemplifying an important aspect of the poster campaign. In her poster, a riot of brightly colored umbrellas surge towards the entrance to the Underground, hardly needing the type announcing Summer Sales Quickly Reached by Underground (1925).
UERL employed only the finest printers for these chromolithographed posters, occasionally drawn on the stones by the artists themselves, as in Barnett Freedman’s Theatre by Underground (1936). Harold Sandys Williamson’s poster of 1939 bravely trumpets Shop Between 10 and 4, as it displays landmarks of London beneath a sky filled with barrage balloons as protection for London monuments from Nazi bombing raids.
Other galleries of the exhibition highlighted five themes and monographic sections on three artists. The Zoo was one of the most popular subjects, and Dorothy Burroughes’ work is often mentioned by contemporaries, specifically because of her inspiration from Japanese art. Hampton Court was a logical destination to promote because the company’s trams reached it on the very edge of the city; a long ride meant a higher fare. Charles Paine attracted riders with a riff on history: Henry VIII is depicted as a gardener, his wives as topiary bushes, one of whom has already had her head lopped off. Some of Paine’s other eye-catching posters, with their large blocks of color and strong designs, merited their own section of the exhibition, including Trooping the Colour (1922) where Guardsmen stand against an abstracted Union Jack.
Another artist given his own gallery was Frederick Herrick. Pick submitted his posters, executed by The Baynard Press where Herrick was Head of Studio, to the 1925 World’s Fair of Paris where both the artist and the Press were awarded gold medals. The power and inventiveness of Herrick’s designs, like London’s Umbrella (1925), which shows travelers flocking to the shelter of a gigantic brolly covering Trafalgar Square, surely helped earn the prize. Typical of Herrick’s wit, the clasp of the umbrella is the roundel sign of the Underground.
Herrick’s work also appeared in a gallery dedicated to Holidays and Events. His posters and others were in the Double Royal size (25 x 40 inches), typically displayed on the outside of Underground Stations and usually printed in runs of 1,000. The company normally printed 1,500 of the slightly smaller (20 x 30 inches) Double Crown posters, which hung on the outside of buses and trams. But most holidays and events lasting a single day—like Derby Day—or others that lasted a few weeks—like the Wimbledon Tennis Championships— were promoted with very small posters in a variety of sizes. These were displayed on the inside of buses, trams, and Underground cars and therefore had much larger print runs. The small format often inspired artists to great creativity, such as the poster promoting the First Test Match at Lord’s on June 24, 26, 27 of 1939, by Clifford and Rosemary Ellis. It is in the most common size (10 x 12 inches) and had a print run of 7,500 copies.
As the most prolific artist who worked for The Underground and one of the greatest poster artists of the 20th century, Edward McKnight Kauffer deserved his own prominent section. In fact, Kauffer studied at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and might possibly have encouraged this ongoing gift of posters from the UERL to the Art Institute. Beginning with his first posters created for The Underground, including Reigate (1915), in the exhibition his work for the company ended with the atmospheric By the RushyFringed Bank (1932). Museums inspired some of the greatest creations, many of them by Kauffer, whose protean style is apparent in the childlike forms of the Woolly Mammoth from the Museum of Natural History, fittingly seen against the brilliant colors of a setting sun. To promote the same museum, Austin Cooper created a magisterial butterfly.
Among the prominent artists also included in the exhibition were Dora Batty, Edward Bawden, Alfred de Breanski, F. Gregory Brown, Aldo Cosomati, Elijah Albert Cox, J. H. Dowd, Irene Fawkes, Clive Gardiner, Paul Nash, Frank Newbould, Paul Rieth, and Fred Taylor. Sadly, constraints of space meant that other important artists in the collection, including Alma Faulkner, Fougasse, Eric Fraser, Laura Knight, Alfred Leete, Freda Lingstrom, Tom Eckersley, Eric Lombers, John Mansbridge, André Marty, C.W.R. Nevinson, Gerald Spencer Pryse, and Walter Spradberry were not featured. Of course, the London Transport Museum holds the entire archive of posters created for the company.
This poster campaign not only succeeded in promoting The Underground, it gave us some of the greatest achievements in poster design, providing an enduring legacy of timeless travel posters.
Teri J. Edelstein, Teri J. Edelstein Associates, Museum Strategies, Chicago
Article published in Vintage Poster Issue 3 2020, a publication of the Vintage Poster Dealers Association, and posted here by kind permission of Teri Edlestein and of the editor, Kirill Kalinin, President of the IVPDA / AntikBar, London, UK.
25th May – 5th September 2019
In 1919, 39 posters came to the Art Institute of Chicago, courtesy of the Underground Electric Railways London. The posters, full of brilliant colors and innovative designs, were part of an effort to encourage Londoners to use this commercial transportation system: to visit the city’s cultural attractions, go shopping, attend sporting events, and even venture into the countryside—all by taking Underground trains and buses, of course. Installed outside Underground stations on public streets and on the front of buses that traversed the city, these posters formed a vibrant civic art presence—a public gallery available to all.
Over the next 20 years more posters arrived at the museum, coming at irregular intervals and eventually forming a collection of almost 350 artworks—an extraordinary sample from the golden age of this remarkable poster campaign, one that continues to this day. Until now, however, the story of how and why these posters came to Chicago has not been known. The architect of the poster campaign, from its inception in 1908 until 1939, was Frank Pick, an executive with London’s Underground. Pick’s enthusiasm for art education led him to commission poster designs from many young artists. Indeed, it is likely that the close relationship between the Art Institute of Chicago and the School of the Art Institute was one reason that Pick chose the museum as the eventual keeper of this poster archive.
This exhibition, the first at the museum to showcase this unique collection, begins with a chronological sampling of the posters. Thematic sections feature popular subjects, such as the zoo, museums, and Hampton Court, the royal palace southwest of London on the Thames, while focused displays are devoted to three of the greatest artists who worked for the Underground: Charles Paine, Frederick Herrick, and one of the most illustrious poster artists of the 20th century, Edward McKnight Kauffer, who studied briefly at the School of the Art Institute on his way to Europe.
Among the show’s highlights is Charles Paine’s clever take on King Henry the VIII, depicting him with large shears trimming the heads off his topiary queens in Hampton Court by Tram (1922). Others include Mary Koop’s Summer Sales(1925), which invites viewers to follow a riot of brightly colored umbrellas toward their shopping destination; a modernist depiction of time by Clive Gardiner from 1928 urging riders to buy a season Underground ticket; and Harold Sandys Williamson’s Cheap Tickets to Town, Shop between 10 and 4(1939), an almost surrealistic view of the London cityscape, its sky a sea of floating barrage balloons as protection from German bombs.
A century after the initial posters arrived at the museum, this exhibition features 100 posters—a celebration of the gift, Frank Pick’s inventive campaign, and the beautiful artworks it produced. Teri J. Edelstein (Curator)
Teri J. Edelstein Associates
Museum Strategies
1648 E. 50th Street
Chicago, IL 60615-3204
Teri Edelstein will be giving two gallery talks as well as a Member’s Lecture.
(Her Members’ Lecture requires advanced registration.)
On Thursday 20th June Neil Harris, professor emeritus of history and art history at the University of Chicago, will give a lecture entitled:
Chicago-London-Chicago—Posters, Politics, and Public Transit
in conjunction with the exhibition for which advanced registration is needed – the required information is on the website.
The lecture explores the links between Chicago and London’s mass transit and the connections between our city and the London Underground poster campaign.
The text of this post is taken, by kind permission, from the Art Institute website:
https://www.artic.edu/exhibitions/8932/everyone-s-art-gallery-posters-of-the-london-underground
Teri Edelstein edited Art For All – British Posters for Transport pub. 2010 Yale University Press
by Charles Paine
Stained glass is more usually associated with ecclesiastical architecture than with domestic architecture.
The field of domestic architecture has yet to be explored.
In this enlightened age the control of warm and cold light in our homes is worthy of more thought and consideration.
Much thought has been given to artificial lighting, but little to the control of day lighting. A hot light can be made cool, a cold light warm and inviting, gloom dispelled and brilliancy made restful.
An elementary understanding of the possibilities and limitations of the craft may help to an appreciation of its qualities.
A stained glass window is composed of pieces of plain and coloured glass held together by strips of lead; the distinctive and especial attributes of stained glass are peculiar to the craft and should not be confused with paintings.
The light shines through and not on the window. Glass is made by being blown into a bubble, which is then opened at the ends, and while hot, manipulated into a cylinder; it is then cut down one side and opened out upon a flattening stone into a sheet. It is this stone which gives the glass its texture. There are two kinds of glass, Potmetal: glass where the colour goes all through; as in the case of a rare jewel, and flashed glass.
In the latter, a bubble is blown, mainly composed of white glass; but before blowing, it is dipped into glass of another colour and both are blown together and fused as one.
The effect of brilliance is largely due to the use of glass that varies in thickness, and to imagine the effect of light from sun-up to sun-down shining through glass such as I have ventured to describe at once dispels the gloom usually associated with the craft.
In painting, coloured pigments are not used, but the features of a face, the folds of drapery, all forms, in short, are traced in a monochrome (chiefly oxide of iron) on the various coloured glasses. Yellow stain is the only thing in the nature of a coloured pigment permissible, and this is used with discretion on the back of the glass before firing in the kiln.
It can be seen, therefore, that a thorough knowledge of the possibilities and limitations of the materials is essential to the designer of stained glass.
The possibilities of invention are inexhaustible; roughly, the procedure is as follows:
A sketch is made to scale, and from this a full-sized working drawing is developed on the lines of the leading, which are not an afterthought around a drawing but, on the contrary, are the structure of the design.
There must be no doubt as to the intention of the artist in this working drawing, for from this drawing a tracing is made of the lead lines only, and from this tracing patterns are made for every piece of glass in the window.
The artist then selects the glass that will not only express his ideas but control the particular lighting required. The glass is now cut to the various patterns with the wheel or diamond. Each piece of glass that needs painting is placed over the working drawing and the form traced through. By gradual stages the painting is developed on a glass easel up to the strength of the working drawing.
It is not unusual (owing to the different natures of the glass) to work over the window two or three times until one arrives at the required strength, otherwise the whole or parts of the scheme would fade away in the kiln. The artist, of course, translates his drawing onto the glass and does not leave it to other hands to carry out.
Apparently, we have now to fit together a glorious jigsaw puzzle. (It is surprising how soon one comes to know the different members of this large and joyous family.)
In between each piece of glass the lead must be constructively guided. The joints are then soldered back and front and the window is cemented, likewise back and front. Certain effects are produced by placing one glass behind another in the same lead; such pieces must be sealed with putty before cementing, otherwise the cement would mark in between the glasses.
Time will mellow and further enrich the permanent qualities of the materials used in a stained glass window, but they must accumulate age only with the passing years.
A copy of the original article with illustrations was posted under ‘Stained Glass’ October 20, 2017
The Craft of Stained Glass was published in The Studio, vol 105, May 1933.
London Zoo features on more Underground posters than any other subject and Paine’s Zoo poster (1921) is one of the most popular.
In 2013 the penguins poster inspired the making of an animation film Penguins Calling directed by Anastasia Psaltou who wrote, ‘The retro feel and the simplicity of the colours in Charles Paine’s poster made it irresistible to me. It gave me great inspiration for creating a fun and colourful animation’. The film was made to mark the 150th anniversary of the London Underground. It can be viewed (2022) at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzBOraAoTcA
Paine probably made the acquaintance of Dr. Douglas Strachan (1875-1950) at Edinburgh College of Art where he was appointed Director of Design in 1908. Strachan is widely considered to have been ‘the most significant and prolific stained glass artist’ (Gazetteer for Scotland) of the first half of the twentieth century. A letter (below) to Paine from Strachan in October 1937 reveals that he submitted designs for a Scottish Mark and that these were rejected. It is clear from his letters that Strachan much admired Paine’s work. Of the Mark designs he wrote, ‘Your admirable Mark designs – just exactly what was wanted a pattern … , and distinction, and yet the story as plain as a pikestaff: and then to read that they had been turned down – in favour of footling things’.
It seems that Paine wrote to Strachan in the autumn of 1937 about the Empire Exhibition being planned for the following year in Glasgow. The policy was to employ only British Artists and that ‘nothing from foreign sources may be shown’. How this squares with displaying art from imperial possessions is not clear. It can be surmised from Strachan’s letter (below) in November 1937 that Paine had written concerning foreign influences on British art, evidently referring to Frank Pick’s acceptance of the influence of continental art movements on the design of Underground posters. Strachan wrote to a friend (unnamed) who was closely associated with the Exhibition and reported his reply: ‘He thinks Mr. Paine has misunderstood Mr. Pick’s views, and does not agree that Mr. Pick endorses design of continental origin: he states that one of the main points which the Council has made is that industry is dependent to far too great an extent on foreign sources – which is of course begging the question though I am sure he does not see this.’
It may be that Paine was also seeking Strachan’s support for the submission of a stained glass design to the Exhibition. According to Strachan, the organisers were convinced that there were plenty of Glasgow artists of high calibre and that they had no need to look further. He wrote, ‘… how maddening that you can’t get your glass set in some church where it could be seen. What about the Glasgow Exhib. in that connection? It is, I read somewhere, to have 2 chapels: one Presbyt. tother Pisky (Episcopalian): and they’ll surely want windows.’ He concludes, ‘… if you would care to make and exhibit a window there I’ll write Bilsland (Sir Alexander Steven Bilsland 1892-1970, member of the executive committee of the Empire Exhibition) about it if you wish and think it worth your while.’
I do not know if Paine exhibited stained glass at the exhibition.
23rd September 1937
Pittendriech, Lasswad
My Dear Paine,
What a great pleasure to see your beautiful handwriting again, and to get news of you and your thoughts and doings.
The contents of your letter and the chance hour of its arrival lead me to the philosophical reflection (reached by many before me) that Life is a quaint sort of affair.
To explain just why your letter and another which reached me 2 or 3 hours earlier have led me into this highly original train of thought, I ought perhaps to begin by saying that one of the first resolutions I made at the beginning of my adult activities was never under any circumstances to allow myself to be drawn into committee work. I have always loathed Art Politics, and regarded committee activities (doubtless too sweepingly) as utterly futile: as in fact a mere form of sport for the type known as committee-man. To this resolution I held rigidly throughout:- at times incurring censure as one selfishly indifferent to the interests nominally concerned:- to which I replied nowt.
Some four years ago, however, I broke my resolution by accepting an invitation to become a member of the “Royal Commission for Art in Scotland” because the fact that this body is purely Advisory placed it in a different category:- and I may say here and now that work on it has been a pleasure from the start, and remains so, – because it works: because instead of wasting time drawing up high-falutin manifestoes and reports for publication we in a sense do nothing: it is the other fellows – promoters of public undertakings whether governmental or municipal who Do: and if their designs seem to us artistically bad they are promptly torpedoed and sunk: and this may happen over and over again before an acceptable design is submitted and approved. Being purely Advisory, the Commission has of course no powers to enforce its ruling: but in the 4 years period that has come under my observation an adverse judgement has never been ignored. We are in the fortunate position too, of not being concerned with costs. Occasionally when designs for a big scheme have been rejected twice, irate officials have attended to demand if we realise that we are holding up a £quarter million of works: but these our Chairman blandly silences by saying that such matters are not in order, our terms of reference being purely aesthetic in character: and that’s that. But within a year of my appointment to the Fine Art Comm. a letter arrived from the president of the Board of Trade inviting me to become a member of the “Council for Art and Industry” about to be formed. This I promptly declined: but as a bare refusal seemed curt and unmannerly I gave a reason – viz that while fully alive to the importance and urgency of the problem which the Council was meant to solve, the first qualification for a seat on that Council was obviously an extensive practical experience of the Designer-Manufacturer problem: and of that (by reason of the self-contained nature of my work from the beginning) I had absolutely none. Which was true, though perhaps lacking in complete candour, since my friends and interests had kept me in close touch with the question all along. What I ought to have said was that the first requirement was belief in the power of any such Council to solve the problem: and that of that I had little. But I didn’t: and back came a very nice letter from Runciman saying that this fact (of my industrial inexperience) was already fully known before the invitation was sent to me: but that the problem contained of course a purely aesthetic element, in which I would etc. etc.: and that he hoped I would reconsider my decision and accept appointment: to which I said Damn (to myself) and very well I accept (to him). It meant attending a monthly meeting at the B. of Trade, London: but Runciman said it would not demand much of my time, and that the Scottish Committee would soon be formed. This I read as meaning that the meetings I would have to attend would then take place in Edinbg.: which was not quite so bad: but when the Scottish Comm. was started some three months later I learnt that I had to attend the Council meetings in London and the Scottish Comm. meetings in Edin. as a member of the Council! So that here after a blameless life I suddenly found myself within the space of twelve months
a member of a Commission a member of a Council and a member of a Committee.
Something had to be done about it: so I promptly tabled a motion that Scottish members of Council should be held to fulfil their whole duty if they attended every second meeting of Council. And this was agreed to. But, oh my God: the dreariness, the utter boredom to me of these Council and Committee meetings: and as witness succeeded witness, the obvious hopelessness of making any headway with manufacturers who said they could not afford “expensive” designs because the designs produced for the firm by such designers would immediately be stolen by rivals who had no designer to pay:- chiefly foreign rivals, who would flood the market with the new designs at as early a date as the original firm could – and at lower cost. The question of whether it was or ever would be possible for the designer of a large firm to attain a position of Management which would enable him to determine the design-policy of the firm was treated by witnesses as a sort of feeble joke. Then there was the question of Volume of Trade: of Overturn constantly cropping up. This I maintained over and over again simply confused the issue. Granted that the Council and Committee had been created by the Board of Trade and that the only concern of such a Board is, properly, increase of the volume of trade: yet the Board created the Council, not to do the Board’s work but to advise it on one element in the problem outside its competence – the aesthetic element: and that that alone was our job. This view was not actually opposed; it was just listened to and allowed to pass:- presumably as something irrelevant. Our appointment was for two years, and as the termination of that period approached I gave notice that I didn’t wish to be re-elected. I was then told that the “2 year” appointment was a mere form and had no real meaning, and was told in kindly fashion not to be a dam fool – that is, not to resign. But I got hold of the Chairman of the Scottish Committee and repeated that I wanted to resign: and after lunch in his club we discussed the matter in leisurely fashion over coffee and cigarettes in the Smoking Room. To cut a long story short I agreed to try it for another year: but before the end of that third year last year I gave notice that I would definitely go out with 1936: and did so. So I have had no connection with either Council (in London) nor Scottish Committee in Edinbg for Art and Industry since this year began. My influence therefore is nil: but I have consulted a friend closely both with Council and Committee and also, as it happens, with the forthcoming Glasgow Exhibit. I wrote him a resume of your letter to me: and it is because I have been waiting for his reply that this letter has been delayed in posting. His reply arrived today: but I don’t know that it amounts to very much. The man himself I like: but like all prominent public figures, he seems to us artists to be too dam politic and cautious of utterance. He thinks Mr. Paine has misunderstood Mr. Pick’s (Frank Pick, London Transport Ed.) views, and does not agree that Mr. Pick endorses design of continental origin: he states that one of the main points which the Council has made is that industry is dependent to far too great an extent on foreign sources – which is of course begging the question though I am sure he does not see this.
He adds regarding Glasgow Exhib. that every effort is being made to employ British Artists: and that one of the conditions of Exhibition is that nothing from foreign sources may be shown. – which again misses what I take to be your point:- foreign influences rather than foreign designs and designers. He adds also that if Mr. Paine is ever in Edinburgh Mr. Brown the Secty of the Commission, will be very much interested to have a talk with him at his office 71 George Street or to have any communications from him.
71 George Street is an office established by the Scott. Comm. for Art and Industry: and Mr. Brown a nice rather solemnly quiet young man whom you would find very pleasant. Bye the bye one of the last things I did in 71 George as a member of Committee was to recommend you as designer for a Scottish national Mark. I trust for Scotland’s sake that they get you.
With kindest regards
Yours sincerely
Douglas Strachan
11th October 1937
Pittendriech, Lasswade, Midlothian.
My Dear Paine,
Just a hasty line to catch the evening mail. Your admirable Mark designs (national Mark for Scotland Ed.) – just exactly what was wanted – a pattern … , and distinction, and yet the story as plain as a pikestaff: and then to read that they had been turned down. For what? I should like to know, and shall make a point of finding out. Why the devil did I not think of holding on as a member until this was settled. The footling things that had been already submitted before I knew anything about it – maps of Scotland with all the Western Isles! : makes you sick. I said what I thought about them the moment I learned of their existence: and then a sub-committee was formed to deal with the matter: and I was on that:- and as I say, its one meeting was my last: that is, I had ceased to be a member before, or if, another meeting was called. What I said was wanted was a big fat mark like a rubber stamp or stencil: a thing that should arrest attention as a shape yet at the same time be legible as words:- an extremely difficult thing to do with such limited space and subject matter.
Many thanks for your kind invitation to come and see your glass. I should greatly like to:- and might have done it early in September as we motored north from London – if I’d known. But when I shall be in London again I don’t know: for, like the curate in the old play, “I doant lyke Londun”: and I hailed escape from the periodically enforced visit to attend the Art and Industry Council, as a boy does the first day of hols:- though I should add that as big cities go, I prefer it to most: much prefer it to Paris for instance that all good Americans and Artists are expected to adore. But how maddening that you can’t get your glass set in some church where it could be seen. What about the Glasgow Exhib*. in that connection? It is, I read somewhere, to have 2 chapels: one Presbyt. tother Pisky (Episcopalian Ed.): and they’ll surely want windows. Glasgow has lately been making rather an ass of itself, directing its fury against me and my kind: shouting that Glasgow is itself simply hotching with s. glass geniuses of the first rank, and that the city gates should be shut against all others. But the Glasgow citizen and donor goes on his way unperturbed: and I shouldn’t think the Exhib. authority would be influenced by any dam (sic) nonsense of that sort. Anyway if you would care to make and exhibit a window there I’ll write Bilsland (Sir Alexander Steven Bilsland 1892-1970, member of the executive committee of the Empire Exhibition Ed.) about it if you wish and think it worth your while.
Ever Yrs
Douglas Strachan
1 January 1939
Pittenriech. Lasswade, Midlothian.
My dear Paine,
Just a line to say how deeply your kind remembrance of us was valued: though I cannot better or equal the neatness of your wish that we might have all we would wish for ourselves, I can heartily return it: hoping 1939 will bring you satisfaction in your work, and as much material “success” as you may deem to be good. We all know that financial success (and costly mode of life that results) is a danger to the artist:yet when circumstance leads some of us deeper and deeper into it we acquiesce or at least do nothing to stop it: yet I imagine that even the most pampered of fortune’s pets in this respect continues to live as rigorously behind the scenes as any of us: knowing in his very bones that overpayment brings no satisfaction at all to him: his one unchanging ambition and hope being that despite the fact that to him his past seems to consist mainly of failures to “get through”, he may yet rpoduce something that will satisfy him, and stand (i.e. the work) unashamed before his fellow artists. The funny aspect of the matter is that while Reason makes it quite clear that one will never achieve this, the conviction that it may happen remains: unabashed: undaunted.
Pardon this platitudinous page. It is New Year’s Day: the dreariest, most characterless of all days: a dies non: a beast: a thing without flesh blood or breath or any existence or place in life – or thought: hence platitudes: for one has somehow to exist through it: a patch of time that might puzzle even J. W. Dunne to explain. if it was only a question of one day per year one might manage somehow{ but even in this heathen land of Scotland, Christmas gives one a jolt: a reminder that the Awful Day approaches: so that between them these two precious festivals poison a week, leaving one with only 51 to enjoy oneself: and that’s not enough.
But I must stop this drivel. Even N.Y. Day can hardly excuse it.
Ever yours
Douglas Strachan
Following his return to England from California in 1930 Paine corresponded with Teuila. 17 of her letters, written between November 1936 and October 1948, are held by the National Library of Scotland. Some letters are undated as to the year. I have assigned a date to these by reference to the content.
13 November 1936 Serena, Carpinteria, California
My dear Charles and Jim*,
Won’t you please write to me? Strange that a letter from Pond Hill from Jimmie fell out of my old portfolio – Then I remembered a letter from Charles – with another and others written later. I looked it up. Remember I’m getting oldish and forgetful – so forgive me – but I will always remember you both – and the long day you came and spent in the garden. Your letters are so sketchy – and tell so little – when my interest is as great as ever. You will see by this little edge (black) to my letter that sorrow has come to me. My dear Ned – after twenty-two happy years – left me – so suddenly I am still staggering from the blow. He threw himself down for a Sunday siesta – and never woke again. He was in such good spirits and seemingly in the best of health – a long way to go. But oh my dears: That was on Sep 20th last – it seems so long ago.
My autobiography “This Life I’ve Loved” has been accepted by the English publishers Longmans Green and Co. The editor wrote ‘May I congratulate you on a delightful book?’ It will be a three dollar book with illustrations. I cried my eyes out when I got the letter that Ned was not here to rejoice with me. So you see I need a loving word from my old friends.
Affectionately yours
Teuila Mrs. Salisbury Field (aged 86 October 1944)
13 December (1936)
My dear dear Charles,
You would be surprised to know how often I have thought of you these years since you left Santa Barbara – whenever I see something beautiful – like a single flower – that you taught me to examine and appreciate and find out its secrets ‘like Sherlock Holmes’ – Or the branches of a tree in a pattern against the light – ‘study the pattern of the light as well as the silhouette of the tree’ – You opened new doors for me on new delights. The other day I was shown some wonderful photographs taken by a man whose new hobby it is to magnify infinitesimal things – like a tiny insect’s wing – a feather – a cockle burr – a bit of dried weeds – and enlarging them and photographing them. I thought of you at once “How interested Charles would be – he would use some of these marvellous designs in his decorative work” – and I wished you were with us – to tell the photographer – and point out to him the beauty of the strange patterns. He appreciated them but you could have shown him much more than his eyes could see. I do hope and pray that you will wake up to enthusiasm in your work again.
Do not be afraid to write frankly and freely to me. You were so careful – so reticent that I was mystified. I cannot understand. I will read your letter once again – for the third time and then tear it up. But there is no-one near me who would ever read it even if I left it open on my desk. Do tell me please – as I understand it you could not get a divorce – what an unforgivable thing to send that ….. to your father! Have you and Jim parted for ever? Is your home with Anna? Thank God for her care of you.
I listened to the King’s abdication speech – and the tears rolled down my cheeks. How well you can sympathise with him. You too are denied what was denied him. Surely all this publicity should have some effect on the obsolete divorce laws of England.
It is not death that frightens me – what I mourn for is the companionship of twenty-two years – our foolish jokes and laughter – all the love and consideration that has surrounded me all these years. Ned even bought my hats. In New York he went into a millinery shop and said “I’d like to try on that hat” – and sitting before a mirror solemnly put it on his head. Then seeing the amazed expression of the sales lady he explained “My head is the same size as my wife’s – and I think this would just suit her. I’ll send her in to try it on” – I did and it was charming.
Strangely enough he chose a black dress for me when we were in NY. The modiste explained this – owing to the death of King George V black was the fashionable colour. I have never had on a black dress as Ned liked me in colors – but he agreed this I must be stylish – picked out the heavy silk crepe – came to superintend the fittings and my dear that was the dress I wore for mourning.
My book will be published in February – I’ll send you a copy. It is an autobiography and I’ve called it “This Life I’ve Loved” – Ned was so interested (in it) and when I received the letter saying Longmans Green had accepted it – it nearly broke my heart that he wasn’t with me. That’s what I mean – I miss him every minute. Something funny happens – or something interesting – and he isn’t here to laugh with me or exclaim or “celebrate” as he would have done over my book.
I have had a little shelf put up just outside my studio window where I put little dishes of seeds – and now as I write a bird is having a good breakfast. I can sit here and make drawings of the birds as they come for meals. They are getting quite tame.
Our last little cocker spaniel Susie died of old age some time ago – and the house was very lonely without a bark in it. The other day driving home from Los Angeles we passed a place where daschund puppies were for sale. I bought a “miniature” one – a female three months old. It’s amazing what a lot of charm and laughter one little puppy can bring into a sad and lonely house. What breed is your little dog? Oh Charles dear you have such a great and glorious talent – not only to create beauty but to inspire others. I am so glad that you are beginning to “want to draw” – with a home and peace and love you should be able to spit on your hands and go to work with enthusiasm. God bless you.
Your friend always
Teuila
15 January 1937
Oh my dear Charles,
I got your cable this morning – no yesterday afternoon – and I’m so sorry to tell you there isn’t a chance.* The poor old Community Arts is all shot to pieces. The rich people who supported it were so disgusted with Mr. McLellan** they have all retired from it. The Carnegie Ins. doesn’t give it any more help and how it manages to survive is a mystery to me. I have always regretted that you did not stay on in California for times are picking up and you might be running the San Francisco School of Arts by now.
I’m writing this as fast as I can to catch the air-mail. I don’t like to cable NO – If the answer were yes I’d gladly do it.
I’ll write more later.
Yrs always affectionately
Teuila
24 January 1937
My dear Anna,
Thank you for your nice friendly letter. Now will you be still kinder and tell me a coherent story of what has happened? Charles refers to tragedy and hell – and yet seems to be happy now – and I’m really bewildered. It’s not idle curiosity for I really love and admire Charles for the great artist he is. When he came back here and we went to see him at the Fletchers I remember saying – on the way home – “I wish I could get him away from everybody. He’s too sensitive to be tangled up in other people’s emotions. None of them are considering his interests” – The Fletchers involved him in their quarrel – which was none of his. And though Jim loved him madly she wanted to get him back to England where she wanted to live. None of them realised that he had a great chance here – and none of them helped him – in fact they did everything in their power to hinder him.
Please tell me why he and Jim parted – or could you? Nobody here that I know knows any of you – though on all sides I still hear regrets that the greatest artist that ever came to California was allowed to leave – was really driven away by one assertive bumptious creature* who finally got control of the Community Arts and ran it into the ground. There is nothing left. The man who is now at the head of it has great difficulty getting the little money offered him – and has a hard time to get on. He’s no painter – in fact there are none now in the Community Arts. How it manages to stumble along is a mystery. I never hear of it any more – and nobody is interested. The rich people who supported it lost interest long ago – and the Carnegie Foundation withdrew their allowance.
I hated having to send that discouraging letter to Charles – but a cable with the word NO would have been worse.
Tell me something about yourself. Are you too an artist – in colours and stained glass? Russian or English? I want to get acquainted with so good a friend of Charles.
Yours cordially
Teuila
10 February 1937
Serena
My dear Charles,
Forgive this paper but it is much easier to write on than the other – where I always forget and run over the edge. The other day I read in the morning paper a glowing account of a(n) exhibition of Santa Barbara artists at the Faulkner Gallery. So I went down to see it. Oh my dear – you never saw such a pitiful lot of daubs. It was a(n) insult to the public to put such things in frames and lure people in by flattering comments. Young Julian* was as good as any of the others and better than many – but his work is hard and he has no idea of values. It is a pity he can not have lessons from a real painter as he is a hard worker and his mother is ambitious for him. Admiring friends hurt him a lot I’m sure. Truly there was not one picture in that whole exhibition that I would have in my house. I long to see some good modern paintings.
Will you ask Anna to do me a favor? I want a catalogue with prices of Sheffield steel — dinner knives-pocket knives — pruning knives – that sort of thing that I can send for myself – and choose from the catalogue. Can this be done without too much trouble?
I’ve just come back from town – while there I went into Osborn’s book store where I was told they had bought a hundred and fifty copies of my book and had sold half of them already. I was asked if I would come in and autograph them – and I said yes but what would I do if I sat at a desk pen in hand and nobody came? I’ll send you a copy of the American edition when it comes out – but if you want the English edition you’ll have to get it for yourself. It seems funny to me to have two editions. I saw the jacket of my book – with the big Teuila flower – the sweet scented ginger – as the decoration. It is charming – I’m so pleased with it.
Do write and tell me how you are getting on – and don’t leave out any of the details. With best wishes always.
Yours affectionately
Teuila
1 April 1937
(Americans move quick ???) Serena
My dear Charles,
Please forgive a typewriter but I have it all set up and it will be much easier for you to read. Your long letter interested me very much. Oh my dear – I wonder if there ever was an artist – a real one whose life was smooth and easy. Think of writing a screen story the best you ever did – and then find it badly cast because the studio had actors under salary — or worse still to find another person’s name on it with yours — one who livened up the story with some “Gag” – that are revolting. Then in play writing my son wrote the best play of his life with Lafayette as the hero — and it was all ready for production — fine actors engaged – when it was all called off because the French repudiated their war debt and a Frenchman would be an unpopular hero. I could tell you millions of heart-breaking stories like that. What a grand idea the Japanese used to have – to give an artist a lovely house – plenty of money and let him work along his own line. My book will come out in America on March 17 — I haven’t heard yet about the English edition that will be published by Michael Joseph.
I sent twenty or more photographs and sketches to Longmans and they chose eight – now Mr. Joseph has sent for them all as he wants more illustrations. It will be funny having two editions. I’ll send you one of Longmans books. They have used my portrait by Herter for the frontispiece.
How happy I would have been if I could have cabled “Come at once”. I’d like you to see my murals — that you instructed me about by long distance. I was able to criticise a mural Lilia Tuckerman was doing with something like intelligence. No perspectives – and the cut-out as important as the design – other teachings of yours which she had never heard of and was much impressed.
The papers are full of horrible stories of floods and strikes but life at Serena flows smoothly on. A little dog – a daschund is a great help to cheerfulness – and Minnie (a real fat darkie momma C/) is of course the same rock of strength. She just came in to say “I’m going mit the dog out”
With love dear Charles
from
Teuila
P.S. Reading this letter over it sounds very unsympathetic – Other people’s troubles don’t make yours any easier. Believe me I do feel for you and it exasperates me that cheap work should be preferred to yours. I’m hoping and praying that something good is coming your way – as a great and joyful surprise – and when it does nobody would rejoice more sincerely than your friend. Teuila
May 25th [1937]
Dear Charles and Anna,
I like beautiful people – I said once to Ned that strangely enough my best friends had always been beautiful – he rather spoilt that by declaring “When you like people you think they are beautiful.” Well anyway I loved Anna’s portrait – and as for you Charles I always thought you were beautiful. Anna’s face is so lovely – it’s no easy thing to write this letter. Austin comes in to ask where the key is to the chest of tools – the wood-carving tools you got for me years ago. I left off to search frantically. Now I think I remember the key is on the ring that I put in my safe deposit box at the bank. Discussion – not very complimentary about the care of keys — Now they are off – I hear the car door slam – and I can go on in peace.
You do such nice things – I loved the gay little book marker with the crown on it – and I am reminded of you so often as I pick up my book and find my place. Then yesterday the stamps came – of the king and Queen. I kept the inside one and gave the one on the envelope to Mary, my daughter-in-law. We sat up all night to listen to the Coronation ceremonies – isn’t that amazing – and were thrilled by the drama of it all and wept a little from sheer sentiment. Austin and Mary have motored about England and love it and have many friends there. When the prince – I forget his name – married the Italian Princess Mary was in Nantucket. She got up at four in the morning – and wrapped in a rug she sat and listened to the wedding ceremony. Her description of that was delightful.
So many people are telling me to write more of my life – bring it up to date – now you ask the same. You don’t realise that the only excuse I had for publishing an autobiography (“Who does she think she is?”) is the fact that I was related to R.L.S. Now if I go on it will be all ME. Of course Ned Field and Austin and Lloyd too – but though they are well known they are not internationally famous as Louis was – and is. One thing I like very much is so many write to me that they are re-reading Stevenson again.
Hollywood friends on vacation in Honolulu told me they went over my tracks there. From my cottage on Nuvan(w) Avi out to Waikiki stopping at the Palace – even going around the back colonade where I sat while the King had breakfast – then they took a boat and went to Maui to see the old plantation Ulapalakua. While in Honolulu they sent me a box filled with Hawaiian delicacies – guava jelly – Papaia jam – kona coffee and the like with a golden lei on top!
Damn the Royal Academy – Don’t they know a good thing when they see it? Oh you – I sent you a pack of my cards for Anna. I can’t tell them for her myself as she has to shuffle them and make a wish – but she can easily tell her own – and yours – and may your dearest wish come true.
I am re-reading your letter. Strangely enough the rare and lovely face of Anna doesn’t suggest a class at all. I think I would like her very much – indeed I do already for your introduction with the background of her family was charming.
I am in a dilemma – whether to mention or not the fact that the same mail that brought me the book-mark also brought a long letter from Katherine (Miss Jim) – I couldn’t help him thinking of your (?) Shelley or Keats – (I rank you with the immortals) how valuable that letter would be to future historians. As it is it only embarrasses me. However I’ve lost it – or mislaid it – so I won’t have to answer it – and yes it seems discourteous not to. So many people live their lives with a constant fear of “What will people say” – that I’m thrilled to know people who don’t care – at least I hope you don’t care – and I wish you happiness and peace and prosperity.
With love from
Teuila
23 August 1937
Serena
My very dear Charles,
I do hope you are better by now – if you were only nearer I could run in and see you – and bring you a dish of my own Tamales – I’m making a batch of them today – real chicken – tamales – all wrapped in corn-husks and steamed – as different from the bought things as home-made pie and the kind you’d get at the grocers. Did you learn to like them when you were in Santa Barbara?
Last night I saw the most beautiful thing – I thought of you – and what a glorious picture you could make of it. There is a new out-door theatre here – a place cut out of the hills. A semi-circle of seats rising one above the other. Across a wide space is the stage – behind that the mountain rises and there is a road along the summit. Looking from the benches of the amphitheatre is like this [a rough sketch Ed.]. Along the top of the mt – at night by moonlight there came a procession of white Arabian horses and their riders – The mountain was softly lighted and along the summit came the lovely horses winding down to the corral. they were like spirit horses descending from Heaven. A lovely moon helped the scene – and as there was no light on the stage one did not see it – Only the horses – It was breath-takingly beautiful.
We have had a three-day fiesta with booths – parades – stage-coaches – cow-boys and forest rangers – dancing in the streets and the pageant in the ‘bowl’ with the horses.
My son and his wife are with me and they were delighted with it all. Now we are pretty tired and willing to rest a bit. It seems strange that Santa Barbara should have such a happy peaceful frolic when such terrible things are happening in the world. In the midst of the parade an air-plane soared over – head the lights showing against the sky. A beautiful sight but I thought of the horror air-planes are making in Spain and China! How I wish you were here in this peaceful spot. Europe is getting very dangerous. We read the papers anxiously but the news is so confusing and contradictory it is hard to understand.
My scrap book of reviews of my book is filled to the brim and there isn’t a bad one among them! I’m getting a little shy of the word ‘naive’ – also when I tried on last year’s hat and found it too small for my head you can imagine the comments made by my family.
When we were visiting in Hollywood a maid at the house told our hostess it was so nice to ‘see a mother and son so congealed’ – and added that most of the sons she knew were ‘nit for nothings’ – when I told that story to a friend she said a lady describing a fancy dress ball said her son went ‘in the garbage of a bishop’ –
I have a little shelf outside my studio window where I scatter seeds. The birds come and are so close I can draw them – just now a mocking bird is sitting on the rose bush trying to make up its mind and to come and get something to eat.
I’ve looked everywhere for your last letter for I know there are things in it I’d like to answer but I put it away so carefully I can’t find it! Anyway this brings you my best wishes for your health and your success – Give Anna a kiss from me and tell her to take the best of care of my dear Charles.
Affectionately
Teuila
25 September 1937
Serena
My dear Charles,
It is a lovely sunny afternoon and I’ve just read your long and friendly letter when you were getting well enough to walk again. I was so glad to hear from you but oh why did you use such a terrible faint pencil so that I could hardly read your letter – even with the aid of a magnifying glass. You – who live in England where they have the finest pencils in the world. I remember you gave me one once that I kept and used until it wasn’t an inch long. Talking of that – I’ve kept everything you ever gave me. Austin was turning out an old chest in my studio looking for some photographs and came across the sketch of a bird. It is in colour chalk – so gay and perfect you expected the little thing to burst into song at once.
I can’t understand why you haven’t a crowded class – there never lived anyone who could teach so well – for you some way arouse enthusiasm not only in those who want to draw – but in the pupils who are sent to your class by their parents and arrive perfectly dull and unresponsive. I’ve seen them after three lessons eagerly calling out ‘Come and see what I’ve done! Tomorrow I’m going to do …’ that sort of thing. I know you made me want to try my hand at every form of art from stained glass windows to iron grille.
I wish I knew how these Englishmen who come over here to lecture get their jobs. I know one who was paid 4000 dollars for three months at a College to give lectures on Shakespeare! He lived at the College and had his meals there so he must have left with his $3000 intact. How I wish you could get a job like that – and what you could teach would do a lot more good than a knowledge of Shakespeare. Anna asked me if I thought you could paint – What a question! My dears I never knew anyone who could do it better – not only painting but drawing and wood carving and stained glass window work and any mortal thing you turned your clever hands to. In the old days when genius was recognised you’d have been given a Cathedral and told to go ahead and decorate it – and what fun you’d have had.
Have you ever heard of San Simeon?* It is Mr. Hearst’s estate on the coast – the most magnificent place my eyes ever beheld. He has bought the insides of Cathedrals and palaces in Italy and elsewhere – and built them inside his grand houses. When Ned and I visited him I saw Italian workmen very busy. Where the mosaic didn’t fit or a carved ceiling was too small they had to fill in with replicas which they were making themselves – and they were having a grand time doing it.
When I visited the big moving-picture studios in Hollywood the people I envied and admired the most were the artisans – the men who built the miniature cities and ships – and designed scenery villages – wandering through a sort of warehouse I saw a lovely old door of carved wood – and looking closer I saw it was made of papier-mâché or I was told it was. The Chief Artisan said to me ‘We have more fun than the actors – We are told what is wanted – but no-one shows us how to do it’ – ‘What do they want?’ I asked – and he laughed ‘Anything from a fleet of miniature men-of-war to a castle on a rock with mountains behind it’ – Never the same twice. You’d love that kind of work – and golly how you could do it!
The little dog that runs this house is a daschund – that isn’t the way to spell it but you know what I mean. Her name is Mitzi and a little while ago I went out to see what she was whining about – and learned that she wanted a string bean. One was given to her and she ate it greedily – raw. I never knew such a dog. She’s healthy and lively so the diet must agree with her.
I can’t remember if I sent you an interview in the News Press – if I did throw this one away. I thought it might amuse you. The other day I got a review of my book from Hobart Tasmania.
With love to you both and all my good wishes for better luck.
Affectionately
Teuila
Undated [1937]
Mrs. Salisbury Field Serena Carpintaria California
My dear Charles,
The pruning knife has not come yet but it will probably appear when I’ve sent off this letter. I sent you a cent – for it would be a tragedy if anything could come between us —–
‘If you love me as I love you No knife can cut our love in two’
I have received catalogues, of courtesy from England and America thanks to you. A friend of mine and her husband (an Englishman) are on their way to London for the coronation – and I gave them several of the catalogues with a description of what I want and they will get them for me. I know they will because I expressed a wish for an Edward VIII mug and now I have one on my mantelpiece. Oh dear I had one with Queen Victoria’s picture on it – a relic of the Diamond Jubilee – but it got lost.
I hope you have received my book by now – the American edition. I wonder what the English publisher will do with it? I’m sure of one thing he can’t make it any more attractive – on the outside I mean.
The reviews have all been so good my head is fairly turned – and it is now the second edition – before the month is out (It was on sale March 17th).
I do hope Anna is out of the hospital and much better in health. I think the worst suffering there is – and I have gone through several kinds – is to see one you care for in pain and be unable to help.
It is a glorious California day. The little shelf outside my studio window – that was your idea wasn’t it? – is full of little birds coming for the grain I scatter there every morning. With the window shut I can get close enough to them to make very careful drawings.
My son* and his wife bought a Ford car and are motoring across the continent singing ‘California here I come’ – And am I agitated? it has taken the form of house cleaning – and I’m putting things away so neatly I’m sure I’ll never find them again. I’m a little nervous about my daughter-in-law spending the summer with me. I love her – but she is a neat Yankee house-keeper and her house is spotless. Minnie and I are not in her class.
We have a little dog – Mitzi six months old. We’ve had her since Christmas as I gave her to Minnie as a present. A daschund is as different from a spaniel as possible. She is lively gay mischievous full of the devil – but has none of that endearing charm of the spaniel – but of course we are getting more and more devoted to her. Minnie spends a lot of time ‘going mit the dog out’ –
Do tell me if you got your picture into the Exhibition? I can’t tell you how much I value the stained glass window you made for me. It is much admired and throws a light on St. Gaudens plaque of 1219? – hung across the narrow entry. Below on each side are narrow book-cases where I keep RLS first editions. When you were here last did you see the new additions we have put on the house? The library upstairs and the studio? Oh dear I wish you weren’t so far away there is so much to talk about.
With love to you both
Affectionately
Teuila
Undated [1937]
Mrs. Salisbury Field Serena Carpinteria California
Dear Charles,
The knife has come! And a fine stout one it is. I wanted to go out at once and prune everything in sight. The postman brought the package – nothing to pay – no customs dues – it might have come from Los Angeles.
I’m so eager to hear about the works of art you sent to the exhibition. I hope they have the sense to accept them and give them a good place on the line. I remember how the artists in Paris used to yowl when their pictures were ‘skied’.
My son and his wife will be here soon. How I wish you were here. he would love your work – with real appreciation for he’s a born craftsman himself. I wish you could see the sets he designs for his plays – all in miniature with every detail worked on. One I remember was a room in a NY flat. The radiator – the view of the housetops from the window. Pictures on the wall and even the man’s pipe and newspaper on a table with a comfortable chair beside it. All in bad taste and real comfort if you know what I mean. He would follow you about and want to try his hand at everything you were doing. He’s had a year of horribly hard work with a cruel disappointment at the end. Cast all engaged play ready for rehearsals and his leading lady who was to come from California was taken ill – All put off and delayed till the autumn. He came near to a nervous breakdown and says he yearns for the peace and rest at Serena. Even the name is soothing. They are motoring out taking their time – stopping by the way – visiting historical places. Taking time off to stay with friends. He telephoned me from Virginia that he was already much better – well in fact and would arrive all rested to spend the summer with me.
Anna said nothing about her health so I’m hoping she’s all right again.
Now my dear – I’ve just lit a taper before Ko Ung – asking her to bring you luck. What I see is a turn of the road –
‘Not by appointment do we meet Delight and Joy – They heed not our expectancy – But round some corner of the street of Life They on a sudden greet us with a smile.’
I don’t know who wrote that but it has been my comfort in many a dark hour. And it’s True – as I’ve discovered. I did that so badly I’ll copy it out for you on a card.
My love to you both
Always yours affectionately
Teuila
10 December 1937
Mrs. Salisbury Field Serena
My dear Charles,
If I wrote to you as often as I think of you you’d get a lot of letters – but I’ve never been so busy in my life as during the last few months.
Think of me – ME – talking before clubs in Monterey – Sacramento – San Francisco – Los Angeles – Santa Barbara and Hollywood: Also yapping over the radio and spending afternoons in bookshops autographing copies of my book: Then I have been getting shoals of fan letters that I feel I really should answer when people are kind enough to write telling me how much they like my book. But it takes a lot of time – all this is explanatory and dull.
I meant to have written you long ago after meeting Mr. & Mrs. Lockwood de Forest. Your ears should have burned we talked about you so enthusiastically. They are both devoted to you – and as I am too we all felt very friendly. Strangely enough it was the first time I ever met them and I remembered that you had asked after them in your last letter. They were so pleased to be remembered. We praised you and damned – double-damned Mr. McClellan – which reminds me that you (have) another friend and admirer here in Mrs. Curtis Cate. I was glad to hear that everyone who upheld Mr. McClellan when he was riding roughshod over the Community Arts are – is – bitterly opposed to him now – even Mrs. Raymond and Mrs. Gould. Mrs. Cate declared that the only time she was tempted to use bad language was when she spoke of Mr. McC and what he did to the Community Arts. She admired your work tremendously – so you see you are not forgotten.
In your last letter you said you were getting better in health. I wish you could have some of our sunshine – we are now having the first rain in seven months – and it’s a soft warm rain at that.
This is wishing you and your Anna a Merry Christmas and a really prosperous New Year. I hope this old year will see the last of your many troubles – it’s time Lady Luck looked your way – more than once I’ve lit a taper before Ko Ung begging her to do you a good turn. I hope she has – and will.
Do write again soon – and ask Anna to write – women have a way of filling in the details. My love to you both.
Always yours faithfully
Teuila
P.S. Austin and his wife are still with me and this year we are preparing a good old-fashioned Christmas with turkey and plum pudding – a tree and presents. My nephew and his wife and my favourite cousin Col. Orr are coming for it. We will drink to ‘absent friends’ and I’ll think of you.
31 December [1937]
Mrs. Salisbury Field Serena
My dears,
How sweet of you to send me a cable on Christmas Day. It brought you both so near.
I wish I were twins. One of me could write another book and the other one could draw paint and make wood cuts. I have a careful line drawing of one of our Christmas trees set up in the studio window with packages piled up around it. In a block print one could put in the coloured papers and fancy bows and gilt and silver. I want to do it for next Christmas. Then my publisher and friends keep pestering me to write another book which I could do before this one is forgotten. (In 1951 A Bit of My Life was published). But it’s hard to throw my mind back over the past when the present is so interesting.
We’ve had glorious weather these last few months – the kind of sunny days sunsets and moonlight nights that make California famous. Not enough rain yet so we won’t mind when we get a real downpour.
Some of my Christmas presents were bulbs – big boxes of them – and there isn’t anything so promising.
I had a lovely Christmas with my son and his wife with me and I reveled in doing ‘matriarch’ with relations gathered about the Christmas tree – my nephew and his wife and my favourite cousin.
It is the last day of the old year. 1938 doesn’t look so very bright with wars and strikes and stock-market slumps. I’m glad I’m not young for the future doesn’t appeal to me. If only the English-speaking peoples could join together without jealousy or discord they could do wonders – Perhaps they will.
My love to you both and my best wishes for a Happy Healthy and Prosperous new Year.
Affectionately
Teuila
22nd June 1939
Serena, California
Dear Charles,
How sweet of you to send me that delightful poster. I didn’t have to look at the signature to know who did it. I think I’d know one of your birds anywhere.
It’s been so long since I heard from you. You never did explain how it was that you gave up the plan of a round trip to New York. I was so excited about it, and sent radio messages out to the ship, not getting your letter until later.
Judging by the dash and splendour of the poster, I imagine you are well again, and I hope you have plenty of work ahead.
I get so worried about you and Anna when I read about gas masks and armaments and horrors. I was relieved, though, when the King and Queen left for their American visit, for I was pretty sure they wouldn’t go away from England if the island was in any danger. They made a tremendous success here, and my son and his wife had the honour of — seeing them. They were penned up behind a rope — invited guests — for four hours, and had the privilege of seeing the royal couple pass by. Austin, whose boyhood was spent in Vailima, under the British flag and who went to college in Wellington (a military college [in New Zealand] where he wore the British uniform, with a little pillbox cap strapped under his chin), would have waited four hours more for the privilege of seeing British royalty.
Do write me, my dears, and believe me, always,
Yours affectionately,
Teuila
7th November 1939
Serena, California
My dear Charles,
I enclose some cuttings that may interest you. if this thing turns out to be any good, I will try to interest Mrs. Schott in you, though I think it’d pretty difficult when you’re so far away, and getting here would be so difficult. How I wished you had stayed on when you had that offer in San Francisco.
Do you remember a young man who was studying at the Community Arts – Dick Kelsey?* Well, he went down to Hollywood, got a job with Disney, and is doing very well indeed. His salary has been raised several times, and he has even bought land; he and his wife are making plans for building a house. That was the opportunity I wanted for you – something in Hollywood, where the real money is. To be sure, they work you to death, but Dick loves it, and says they have a night school free for the artists, where he is learning more than he ever could in any other place.
Do write and tell me how you are getting on. I am so worried about you, and so sorry I couldn’t send you an encouraging cable.
My best wishes to you both,
Always yours affectionately,
Teuila
P.S. If I should have to send you a cable, haven’t you a shorter address that would reach you? Every word counts, as you know, and your address is a terribly long one.
24th September 1948
(A post card)
[In 1947 Mrs. Field left Serena and moved into the luxurious El Mirasol Hotel, demolished in the 1960’s]
Mrs. Salisbury Field, El Mirasol Hotel, Santa Barbara, California
Dear Charles and Anna,
I’ve just had a 90th birthday – and I’ve had to write so many ‘thank you’ cards I can hardly hold a pen – I received two cheques from royalties of ‘Twin Beds’ and ‘Wedding Bells’ – my dear Ned’s plays – and they came like birthday gifts. My avalanch (sic) of birthday cards were, many of them, from strangers – showing how much I owe RLS – I’ll write you a real letter when I get my breath. My love to you both. How I wish I could see your water colours of Ireland!
Teuila
Addressed to: Charles Paine Esq., 43 Longcroft Lane, Welwyn Garden City, Herts. England
31st October 1948
Mrs. Salisbury Field, El Mirasol Hotel Santa Barbara, California
Dear Charles and Anna,
This little book* has been treasured by me all these years. When you wrote that you were teaching a class in drawing I thought you might like to have it. I had a copy made some years ago – what fun I had doing those murals for my studio! When I sold Serena I hated to leave them there – for with your help and advice I did some pretty good work. I wish now I’d had photographs made of them. They were all scenes from Haiti the Negro republic in the West Indies. I sketched all the time I was there – two months – and hated to leave. Every way you looked you saw picturesque subjects – the houses old French architecture – Negro huts – wonderful grill work over gateways – but it would take pages to describe that country. When I was in Hollywood I joined a class that was modelling and now I have two figurines I did from some Haiti sketches. A week ago I sent you a CARE** parcel which I hope arrived safely. My love to you both – and I hope Wendy is still with you. The years of a dog’s life are too few – while my own two cats lived for twenty years.
Aloha from Teuila
Whenever circumstances permitted Paine kept a dog.
Paine with Jenny at 43 Longcroft Lane, Welwyn.
‘This is Jenny my true friend. Sometimes we sits and thinks. Sometimes we just sits.’
Jenny’s studio portrait.
Paine with Lisa at La Guerdainerie Cottage, Trinity, Jersey c.1965.
Charles Paine A.R.C.A. 