The First-Rate Genius and the Painter General
The bucket of river water, teeming with live leeches, arrived in New York City on a boat from New London. They’d been sent to Mary Way by her sister, Betsey, as a medical treatment for glaucoma. Connecticut leeches were considered superior to New York leeches, and every advantage was needed to prevent Mary, a professional artist, from going blind. Of course, it didn’t work, and while the disease ended what had been Mary’s excellent adventure, it couldn’t destroy the achievements of a spirited and talented woman.
I first read about Mary in an article by Steven Slosberg published in The Day on December 14, 2018. The piece, “The enduring art of Mary Way: Work by the 18th-century New London artist is still capturing attention,” described Mary’s miniature portraits and her position as possibly the first professional female artist in America.
During his research, Slosberg
talked with historian Ramsey MacCullen, Betsey’s great-grandson, who wrote a book about the Ways, “Sisters of the Brush.” This entertaining read contains many of the letters Mary, Betsey, and Betsey’s daughter exchanged. Amid discussions of paint and turpentine, Mary, in particular, emerges as a smart, confident, witty woman, someone you’d love to meet.
Mary (1769-1833) and Betsey (1771-1825) were born in New London. Mary never married, so driven by the need to support herself, she opened a school for young ladies in New London. According to her ad in the Connecticut Gazette, the curriculum included reading, writing, lace-making, embroidery, and painting.
But Mary aspired to more. In 1811, she relocated to New York City where she hoped to refine
her technique, enhance her professional credentials, and reach a wider clientele. As an underfinanced, single, middle-aged woman breaking into a man’s world, she was making a brave move.
Another challenging factor was that American art was dismissed as inferior by snobbish European critics, intensifying the rivalry among New York artists all scrambling to be recognized. It says a lot about Mary that she was warmly accepted and mentored by some of the best known painters of the day.
Mary wasn’t cowed by the elite company she kept. Associating with a socially upscale crowd could have embarrassed a woman who was chronically short of money and owned just one pair of shoes, but apparently she didn’t care and neither did her friends.
Early in her New York adventure, Mary wrote to Betsey about how her work compared to that of her male colleagues: “I have seen but few equal, and none superior, to my own … I very modestly set myself down as a firstrate genius.” Her assessment was tongue-in-cheek, but it showed a healthy self-confidence that a woman in her circumstances surely needed.
Betsey was a gifted artist in her own right, but her life followed a different trajectory. She continued painting portraits, but stayed in New London, married, and raised a family. She wrote poetry, too, and sent some of her verses to Mary. In one amusing exchange, Mary responded candidly that the poems had “too many words, too little substance.” She didn’t want Betsey to send any more.
Mary often sent her sister high-quality art supplies that simply weren’t available in New London and wrote to her about the artistic principles she was learning from the New York pros. Their letters reflect mutual affection and respect. Mary once commented on Betsey’s success: “… There in New London you are the Painter General.”
Ultimately, Mary’s eyesight failed to the point where she returned to New London to be cared for by Betsey. After their deaths, their art was largely forgotten for years, but I hope the “Genius” and the “General” wouldn’t be surprised by today’s renewed recognition. I hope they knew that what they created would endure because art and beauty matter.
Watch for an exhibit of Mary and Betsey’s work at the Lyman Allyn Art Museum planned for early next year. It will be a chance to view exquisite paintings and see what some early New Londoners looked like before the advent of photography could immortalize them. If you want a preview, the New London County Historical Society, Florence Griswold, and Lyman Allyn all hold Way miniatures in their collections.