Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967), Old House in the Swamp, 1952; conté crayon, ink and ink wash on paper, 29 1/2 x 37 5/8 inches; Gift of Suzanne Seigfred
To the junction of Becker Rd. & Route 39 –
The sunny weather continues – but with a strong, cool wind – wonderful weather for walking but difficult for painting. I planned to do the old abandoned house here in conjunction with the swamp nearby – as if the house were disintegrating into the swamp with the swamp life triumphing.
The work made difficult by two things – first cramps in my abdomen accompanied by slight nausea – Then there was the steady [persistent] wind – as I wanted to work on a 30 x 40 board, it made it hard to anchor. Perhaps these conspired together to make it almost impossible for me to decide between an upright or horizontal. A full hour was consumed with this problem, and I changed the position of the paper no less than four times. By then it was time for lunch.
After lunch I set to work – after I had painted in the house & trees, I moved over to the far side of the swamp, and continued the painting there. By then I was physically tired, but persisted somehow and finished up the work. I was sure I was wasting my time – The wind had first blown the sky clear, & now again had fraught elusive fan shaped veils of mist, thru which the sun shone dimly – an enchanted effect.
After I had stored my paraphernalia into the car, I stretched out on the front seat, turned on the radio, closed my eyes & relaxed – Recording by Toscanini of Puccini’s “La Boheme” I turned up the volume & let the sound flow thru me. I then went for a short walk in the hemlock woods across the road. Spring–beauties at the base of huge maples. In the woods I found a few hepaticas. Then back to the car & ate my lunch. I had scarcely finished when a truck from the east pulled off to the side & stopped – Out of it came a heavy–set merry looking farmer, demanding (in a peculiar way) to see my painting. (He was the owner of the place) – I was diffident about showing it to him as much of it was fantasy – however the house itself was realistic enough & he liked it – He asked the inevitable question: how much would it sell for? – So I told him. He was impressed by the price – but not in a way to make it embarrassing, as it usually is. He told me it had become impossible to rent the house as it was “haunted” – not that he believed in such things – I objected: “But any empty house is supposed to be haunted, isn’t it” – But he said they claimed a murderous man’s lady was found in the cellar. “I’d like to burn it down, but they tell me it’s not lawful to burn a building with a roof on” – ! – I thought it would be a pity to ruin the trees around it by such a procedure.
As he was leaning he said – “Say, I’d like my aunt to see that picture – would you mind showing it to her?” – I said I was willing – “Well, just drive up to that big white house (to the east) and ask for Ada, and tell her Frosty sent you” and I’ll certainly appreciate it.” He drove on, down the Becker road.
So I drove down to the white house parked & went, not without some misgivings, around to the back door. After all, for a complete stranger to come unannounced and ask for a middle aged woman by her first name must seem rather unorthodox. A young woman opened the door, and I was at a loss how to begin – Finally I managed somehow to say I had been sent by Frosty. (Alarm momentarily came into their faces – another farmer had appeared) – but then I said I was supposed to show Ada my painting. So they went to call her – Ada came on a moment – I could tell she was a bit amazed and diffident too – and how could she be blamed? But she came out to the car to see. I do not think she was particularly interested, but pretended to be – and after a moment or two, I left, relieved.
A pleasant drive home in the twilight. Bertha thought the picture good, but I was too tired & sick to see anything in it.
Charles E. Burchfield - April 19, 1952