A unique find in the field of American painting was a portfolio of twenty primitive watercolors discovered in 1943 by the Harry Stone Gallery of New York, the only gallery ever devoted entirely to folk painting. The watercolors were executed by one Mary Ann Willson during the first quarter of the nineteenth century. Other than the fact that she worked in Greene County, New York, about 1820-25, little is known of her life and career. Her paintings, with the exception of isolated examples and a contemporary group by Eunice Pinney of Connecticut, are the earliest folk watercolors found to date. They are without exception the most primitive.
A letter written about 1850 by "An Admirer of Art," which accompanied the portfolio of Mary Ann Willson's watercolors, is now in the M. and M. Karolik Collection in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. It gives us a firsthand account of the odd menage and partnership of two women pioneers, Miss Willson and a Miss Brundage. An unsigned letter discovered in 1967 (now in the Vedder Library, Bronck House, Coxsackie, New York), and a brief account in Lionel de Lisser's Picturesque Catskills, Greene County, 1894, offer exactly the same sparse information as the "Admirer," who most likely authored all three pieces.
The identity of the "Admirer" is not known. Likely candidates are Theodore L. Prevost of Greene County, whom de Lisser credits with Willson's "discovery", or Theodore Cole, son of the painter Thomas Cole and owner of the two watercolors published in de Lisser's book.
The letter tells us all we know of the artist's life and might be considered one of the earliest positive criticisms of American folk painting:
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"The artist, Miss Willson and her friend, Miss Brundage, came from one of the Eastern Sates and made their home in the Town of Greenville, Greene County, New York. They bought a few acres and built, or formed their house, made of logs, on the land. Where they resided many years. --One was the farmer and cultivated the land by the aid of neighbors, occasionally doing some ploughing for them. This one planted, gathered in, and reaped, while the other made pictures which she sold to the farmers and others as rare and unique "works of art." --Their paints, or colours were of the simplest kind, berries, bricks, and occasional "store paint" made up their wants for these elegant designs.
"These two maids left their home in the East with a romantic attachment for each other and which continued until the death of the "farmer maid." The artist was inconsolable, and after a brief time, removed to parts unknown.
"The writer of this often visited them, and takes great pleasure in testifying to their great simplicity and originality of character - their unqualified belief that these "picters" were very beautiful, (and original) (they certainly were), boasting how greatly they were in demand. "Why! They go way to Canada and clear to Mobile!" They had not the slightest ideas how ridiculous they were --They're perfect simplicity and honest earnestness made them and their works more interesting: --sui generis without design.--
"The writer of this little sketch does not mean to compare these mineral and vegetable compounds of fantastic taste with the more modern artistic works of a Cole, Durand, Huntingdon and others --but simply as the work of a native artist --uneducated of course, but proof of the unnecessary waste of time under old Masters and Italian travel.
"The reader of this will bear in mind that nearly fifty years have passed since these rare exhibits were produced --before "edecation" had taken such rapid strides in the "picter" world --and now, asking no favors for my friends (as friends they were), let all imperfections be buried in their graves and shield these and them from other than kindly criticism --"
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Nineteenth-century naive painters were certainly not progenitors of the modern avant-guard, but it was the evident affinities --provocative common interests and attitudes --that largely account for the rediscovery and reappraisal of American folk art. Of all the examples that have come to my attention, no folk paintings are so strikingly akin to sophisticated modern art as Willson's artless watercolors.
A much discussed question concerning the style of American folk painting has been that of its abstract and decorative quality. Some critics have insisted that a folk painting was never deliberately decorative, its abstract effect merely an incidental result of the untutored artist's inability to paint realistically. It has always been my belief that this explanation misses a vital point: the folk artist's inability to paint realistically also made way for a compensating interest in and emphasis on abstract design.
Surely no one will claim that Willson was trying to be realistic and that her futile attempts at realism resulted in an unconsciously abstract style. She undoubtedly realized her technical limitations and, making no attempt at academic realism, felt herself free to develop color and pattern for their own sake. Willson painted George Washington's horse wearing a gaily dotted harness and saddle, and dressed her "marimaid" in something much like a patchwork quilt. She boldly followed this decorative style even when her paintings were directly inspired by academic prints, as in the series based on the parable of the Prodigal Son. Comparing the Willson version of The Prodigal Son Reclaimed with its print source, is like looking at a Picasso version of a Velázquez; the core of aesthetic excitement lies in the revisions of line, color, and design. In this worldly original translation, the row of pointed cedar trees is transformed into a spiked orange design outlined in black. All the formal engraved detail is reduced to flat areas of color or animated with action-painterly brushstrokes.
As a group, Willson's paintings are interesting because of their unusually early date and extremely primitive style, and their surprising kinship with advanced twentieth-century painting. They are the most striking examples I know of the folk painter's tendency to exploit pure color and design. Her colors, concocted of brick dust, vegetable dyes, and the juices of berries, are different from those commonly used by her contemporaries. They are as primitive as those of the ancient Egyptians, as modern as those of Matisse.
This chapter is based on "Miss Willson's Watercolors" by Jean Lipman in American Collector, vol. 13, no. 1 (February 1944), pp. 8, 9; reprinted in Primitive Painters in America, 1790-1950, Jean Lipman and Alice Winchester, eds., 1950; reprinted, Freeport, NY.: Books for Libraries Press, 1971, pp. 50-56.