Nov. 18-20 – the water-color jury [in Washington, DC] –
A grueling job – 1000 pictures – from which we selected 300 for hospital, and 600 for exhibition and sale.
One of the interesting things about serving on a jury – one of the compensations – is meeting artists whose work you have known a long time – (They never are “like”). I expected Marin to be tall, long + vigorous and perhaps something of a poseur – I was wrong on every count except his head, which was very like _____’s bronze of him – But otherwise, I would scarcely have recognized him as Marin of the water-colors I knew – Thin, slightly built, with something of a stoop, and very shy. Dominating his whole physical being was his black piercing eyes, that seemed to peer out at one from a “cave” of deep eye-sockets, with his unkempt strangling hair alive – Before the session was over, I had grown to like him very much, more – there was a quality about him that could only be described as loveable – I was drawn to him very strongly (and Mrs. Phillips told me he too, liked me) –
O’Hara was a fellow with a great deal of charm, and I felt myself wishing I could like his work better – He had me out to his home for dinner Monday night – He + his wife, + 12 year old daughter, live with her father, Mr. Putnam. The latter I found a fine old fellow – old only in years. Though 78, he last year learned to drive and automobile, and five years earlier, in order to teach his grandson to roller-skate, bought skates for himself; and skated all around Washington. (after dinner to a movie.)
Buk Ulreich made the least impression on me – he was more aloof. Either he was without jury experience, or without taste – for he voted for everything.
O’Hara had the jury to lunch on Wednesday – at a seafood place down on the Potomac River. Afterwards, we found the street we had to cross very busy with endless traffic. O’Hara + Ulreich sped across safely, but I could see Marin was afraid to go. So I stayed with him, for I felt responsible somehow – I was afraid he might get himself killed, so I held his arm (he seemed at any moment to make a blind dash for it – at precisely the wrong time). I was relieved when we were safely across.
On Wednesday evening, when we were all finished, Bruce had [us] out to his home for cocktails. Justin Stone – Duncan Phillips + his wife, were there, - Forbes Watson [art critic] + his wife, and a number of others whose names I cannot recall. Ulreich + I stayed a few minutes after the rest had gone.
My train left at 8:30, and Ulreich had not yet purchased his tickets – so we both went at once to the station, where I “grabbed” a hasty meal of ham + eggs, + got on the train, which was crowded with people who like myself were going home for Thanksgiving –
Bertha, Mary Alice, Catherine, + Arthur met me at the train, and Arthur told me at once, that a turkey was already in the oven.
It was good to be home again.
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, November 18-20, 1940