During the 1970s, my boyfriend Bob Hamilton, and I spend most weekends in Monterey County. We camped in the VW Bus and explored the Big Sur area. We were interested in the bohemian artists of the 1940s. I have a vague memory of visiting the Jeanne D’Orge gallery and spending an evening looking through her work. In retrospect, I realized the kindly gallery sitter was probably Jane Wilgress (see below). Because I was not yet a writer, I don’t have specific images to share, perhaps visiting all of this is a way to regain memories from that time when I did not write. —Maureen Hurley, Spring Equinox, 2021.
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| Cherry Center for the Arts |
While on a walking holiday in France in 1906, Lena was swept off her feet by geographer and engineer, widower Alfred Burton (dean of M.I.T.). Lena and her mother joined Burton and his two sons in Newton Grange, Massachusetts where she and Alfred were married. A pioneering modernist poet, Lena became involved with the Others, a poetry group that included Marianne Moore, William Carlos Williams, and Wallace Stevens, and she began publishing her work in literary magazines, Others: A magazine of the new verse, and Poetry. Some of her prose poems were published under the name Lena Dalkeith Burton.
Suffering from poor health, and a profound dislike of east coast weather and New England mores, Lena moved to Carmel in 1920 with her 3 children in tow—where she built a Craftsman style house. Her husband retired from M.I.T, and joined her a year later. They became involved in community theater, with Dr. Burton building sets and acting in Forest Theater productions; Lena wrote and produced a series of Commedia dell’ Arte styled plays, including Crazy Ann, under the penname of Lena Burton.
In 1928 Lena created a scandal when she left husband and children to live with the Forest Theater lighting technician, and M.I.T. graduate, Carl Cherry, some 20 years her junior. They converted his mother’s old Queen Anne cottage, a wedding gift (they were married in 1930), into an art studio for Lena, and a workshop for Cherry. During the lean years, they lived off canned tuna and coffee. She began painting in earnest in 1937, and Carl Cherry struck paydirt when one of his inventions, the one-sided blind rivet, revolutionized airplane and shipbuilding construction during the war years. Lena took up her painting name Jeanne D'Orge, after a river in France, having shed all vestiges of her past lives. For D'Orge painting embodied the intangible moods of form, color, and feelings that cannot be expressed in poetry or music.
The Cherrys carried on as before, living a simple lifestyle, but used their newfound fortune to establish the philanthropic Cherry Foundation to "further the culture of America by sponsoring experimental fine arts, sciences and education." The foundation underwrote arts events, concerts, plays, lectures and seminars featuring world class lecturers and performers. She became friends with Robinson Jeffers and Edward Weston, and wrote plays under the pseudonym of Juniper Green, after a neighboring village near Edinburgh. After her husband Carl Cherry died of cancer in 1947, D'Orge continued to run the Carl Cherry Center for the Arts, and "often appeared on the streets of Carmel wearing a big pink hat, ankle length Chinese robes and paint-stained tennis shoes." She died in 1964. Her former home, now an art center, houses over 1200 pieces of her art, plus letters, books, manuscripts, photos and memorabilia, as well as an extensive library.
“Paintings Not for Sale” exhibit at the Pat Wall Gallery
By Rosalind Sharpe
Averse to attracting public attention—she feels that it interferes with the integrity and freedom of the artist as well as with the spontaneously creative response of the spectator—Jeanne D’Orge (Mrs. Carl Cherry in private life) consented to exhibit again only at the cumulatively urgent behest of friends.
According to her husband, Carl Cherry, “So many people who have seen the paintings have said it was a pity other people couldn’t see them. They have felt that they are an experience—not a mere visual impression. An experience which should be shared.”
Although she has been painting since 1937, she has exhibited only twice before—once at the Sibyl Anikeyev Gallery in Monterey in 1937 and again in New York at the 460 Park Avenue Gallery in 1940, and it is possible, says Mrs. Cherry, that this may be her last exhibit. She may never show again.
The forthcoming exhibit, she declared, is “not for artists, not for critics, not for people who know about art. But for people who don’t know about art. For people who want to know about art. For people of the town.”
Jeanne D’Orge has never been interested in making a name for herself in the art-world nor in appealing to the judgment of the critics, for her primary aim is simply to paint—to embody in form and color those intangible moods and feelings which cannot be expressed in words, not even in poetry, and for which the only other possible medium would be music. When asked why she painted, what she was trying to express, she looked amused and replied very simply, “I paint because I like it. It’s what I like to do best.”
But although she shrinks from any public interest in herself, she does not paint selfishly nor preciously; she feels that the work an artist does belongs to everyone. If it has any merit, it is something to be shared. “Pictures are what people make them,” she remarked unexpectedly. “The person makes the picture, not the artist. The artist merely puts the suggestion out.”
Her only interest in the forthcoming exhibit is that people who might find some pleasure in her work, who might participate in her own revelation of mood and feeling, who might find something in it for themselves, will stray into the Pat Wall Gallery on Olivier st.
None of the paintings will be for sale.
Jeanne D’Orge’s work, it should immediately be stated, fits into no known category nor school of painting. It is not objective nor academic. It is not decorative nor two-dimensional. It is not abstract nor modern. It is definitely not surrealist. It is something different, something unique, intimate and peculiarly her own.
Jeanne D’Orge smiled at the thought of art-criticism as she sat drinking coffee, surrounded by books and paintings, and reiterated with quiet sincerity that she was not showing her work to compete with other artists nor to appeal to the critics and connoisseurs but mainly for “the other people. The people who don’t know about art and who aren’t looking for art, but who would like to know about art.”
It has been said of Jeanne D’Orge’s work that there are things to which it could be compared, but that these would not be in the art-world. Music, perhaps, and the feelings which music invoke, would be the closest language of translation.
Carmel Pine Cone Sept 20, 1984
Nothing could be further from the truth! Jeanne Cherry was a woman of this earth, and earthy. She forsook her family, had for a time a reputation as a home-wrecker, and finally moved into a lasting, loving relationship with a very much younger man, Carl Cherry. For all her storminess, she was neither ascetic nor predatory.
Our gallery, which she created and which shows her paintings, is pleasantly informal. All visitors are welcomed on five afternoons a week, and often at other times. It is true that our storage includes a safe (presumably this is the “vault”) specially equipped to hold a certain number of paintings — those in aluminum frames that were made by Carl Cherry.
The rest of the work — about 200 paintings and 500 drawings — is in cupboards, boxes and portfolios, and any visitor may sit down and browse in this treasure trove at their leisure. To people concerned about the permanency of her media and her casual studio and gallery habits, Jeanne commented (I quote from a 1962 article in the Carmel Valley Outlook): “What difference does it make? They will last my lifetime and they are for my pleasure.”
Far from seeking an elite following and showing only to the cognoscenti, Jeanne was especially at home with the reactions to her work of “housewives, clerks, carpenters, painters and those who work in the canning industry.” This quote is from a review headed “Art for the man in the street” of a 1946 Jeanne D’Orge exhibit at the Pat Wall Gallery in Monterey — a review written by Anita Church, who knew the artist very well.
Thus, there was and is nothing elitist or esoteric about Jeanne Cherry, or her work, or the Carl Cherry Foundation — and the latter is emphatically not a “cult center,” the description once used by a cultural commissioner who had never visited. It is a modest neighborhood facility where people interested in the arts and education meet and exchange their gifts.
I hope this brief statement may clarify some of the misapprehensions surrounding a woman, who, while she certainly pursued a stormy and iconoclastic career, was a remarkable artist and left a generous legacy to the community.
By Rosalind Sharpe
Jeanne D’Orge, Carmel artist, whose paintings will be exhibited for the first time since 1940 at the Pat Wall Gallery In Monterey from October 9 to October 27 says that, “Artists should be anonymous. People should know their work but not the artist.”
Averse to attracting public attention—she feels that it interferes with the integrity and freedom of the artist as well as with the spontaneously creative response of the spectator—Jeanne D’Orge (Mrs. Carl Cherry in private life) consented to exhibit again only at the cumulatively urgent behest of friends.
According to her husband, Carl Cherry, “So many people who have seen the paintings have said it was a pity other people couldn’t see them. They have felt that they are an experience—not a mere visual impression. An experience which should be shared.”
Although she has been painting since 1937, she has exhibited only twice before—once at the Sibyl Anikeyev Gallery in Monterey in 1937 and again in New York at the 460 Park Avenue Gallery in 1940, and it is possible, says Mrs. Cherry, that this may be her last exhibit. She may never show again.
The forthcoming exhibit, she declared, is “not for artists, not for critics, not for people who know about art. But for people who don’t know about art. For people who want to know about art. For people of the town.”
Jeanne D’Orge has never been interested in making a name for herself in the art-world nor in appealing to the judgment of the critics, for her primary aim is simply to paint—to embody in form and color those intangible moods and feelings which cannot be expressed in words, not even in poetry, and for which the only other possible medium would be music. When asked why she painted, what she was trying to express, she looked amused and replied very simply, “I paint because I like it. It’s what I like to do best.”
But although she shrinks from any public interest in herself, she does not paint selfishly nor preciously; she feels that the work an artist does belongs to everyone. If it has any merit, it is something to be shared. “Pictures are what people make them,” she remarked unexpectedly. “The person makes the picture, not the artist. The artist merely puts the suggestion out.”
Her only interest in the forthcoming exhibit is that people who might find some pleasure in her work, who might participate in her own revelation of mood and feeling, who might find something in it for themselves, will stray into the Pat Wall Gallery on Olivier st.
None of the paintings will be for sale.
Jeanne D’Orge’s work, it should immediately be stated, fits into no known category nor school of painting. It is not objective nor academic. It is not decorative nor two-dimensional. It is not abstract nor modern. It is definitely not surrealist. It is something different, something unique, intimate and peculiarly her own.
Jeanne D’Orge smiled at the thought of art-criticism as she sat drinking coffee, surrounded by books and paintings, and reiterated with quiet sincerity that she was not showing her work to compete with other artists nor to appeal to the critics and connoisseurs but mainly for “the other people. The people who don’t know about art and who aren’t looking for art, but who would like to know about art.”
It has been said of Jeanne D’Orge’s work that there are things to which it could be compared, but that these would not be in the art-world. Music, perhaps, and the feelings which music invoke, would be the closest language of translation.
Carmel Pine Cone Sept 20, 1984
THE CHERRY FOUNDATION
BY JANE WILGRESS
Sacred art myths
Occasionally, I am asked about the “mystery” of the Jeanne D’Orge Cherry paintings in our gallery. Are they not some sort of “sacred” art? Did the artist paint them in a trance?
Was she in touch with other worlds? Are the works really kept in a “vault,” as a critic once described, and shown only to a privileged few in a hushed and rarefied atmosphere, as described by a disenchanted gallery-goer in the past?
Sacred art myths
Occasionally, I am asked about the “mystery” of the Jeanne D’Orge Cherry paintings in our gallery. Are they not some sort of “sacred” art? Did the artist paint them in a trance?
Was she in touch with other worlds? Are the works really kept in a “vault,” as a critic once described, and shown only to a privileged few in a hushed and rarefied atmosphere, as described by a disenchanted gallery-goer in the past?
Nothing could be further from the truth! Jeanne Cherry was a woman of this earth, and earthy. She forsook her family, had for a time a reputation as a home-wrecker, and finally moved into a lasting, loving relationship with a very much younger man, Carl Cherry. For all her storminess, she was neither ascetic nor predatory.
Our gallery, which she created and which shows her paintings, is pleasantly informal. All visitors are welcomed on five afternoons a week, and often at other times. It is true that our storage includes a safe (presumably this is the “vault”) specially equipped to hold a certain number of paintings — those in aluminum frames that were made by Carl Cherry.
The rest of the work — about 200 paintings and 500 drawings — is in cupboards, boxes and portfolios, and any visitor may sit down and browse in this treasure trove at their leisure. To people concerned about the permanency of her media and her casual studio and gallery habits, Jeanne commented (I quote from a 1962 article in the Carmel Valley Outlook): “What difference does it make? They will last my lifetime and they are for my pleasure.”
Far from seeking an elite following and showing only to the cognoscenti, Jeanne was especially at home with the reactions to her work of “housewives, clerks, carpenters, painters and those who work in the canning industry.” This quote is from a review headed “Art for the man in the street” of a 1946 Jeanne D’Orge exhibit at the Pat Wall Gallery in Monterey — a review written by Anita Church, who knew the artist very well.
Thus, there was and is nothing elitist or esoteric about Jeanne Cherry, or her work, or the Carl Cherry Foundation — and the latter is emphatically not a “cult center,” the description once used by a cultural commissioner who had never visited. It is a modest neighborhood facility where people interested in the arts and education meet and exchange their gifts.
I hope this brief statement may clarify some of the misapprehensions surrounding a woman, who, while she certainly pursued a stormy and iconoclastic career, was a remarkable artist and left a generous legacy to the community.
In 2004, archivist, librarian, and curator of the Cherry Foundation, Jane Wilgress turned this extraordinary tale into a book, Better Than Beauty: The Life and Work of Jeanne d'Orge.
Bobemian Summer: The Artwork and Life of Jeanne d’Orge 2019Jeanne D’Orge, painter, exhibit at the Pat Wall
Born in 1887 in England, Jeanne d’Orge spent her childhood in Edinburgh, London, and Paris. Her book of verse, Voice in the Circle, published in 1955, focuses on her childhood in Europe.
After moving to New York in 1906, d’Orge became associated with “The Others,” a group of iconoclastic poets that included Marianne Moore, William Carlos Williams, and Wallace Stevens. Her poetry was included in the anthology The Others and The Poetry Journal. In 1923 Scribner’s Magazine published her award-winning “Lobos” poems.
Jeanne d’Orge died on May 1, 1964, at the age of 87. Although her painting was recognized in her lifetime for its forcefulness and spirit with exhibits at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art, the Park Avenue Galley in New York City, and the De Young Museum in San Francisco, d’Orge insisted that her paintings never be sold, saying only, “I’m just a paintbrush for God.
Pat Wall, modern art dealer: Dali, Miller, & Varda
Pat Wall, Modern Art Dealer: 3 Henry Miller
Pat Wall, Modern Art Dealer: 2 Betty Wall
Pat Wall, Modern Art Dealer: Ellwood Graham
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