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54 54  nancy astor and jo davidson FIG 1 Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess Astor CH, MP (1879–1964), 1930, Joseph Davidson (1883–1952), bronze with marble socle (not shown), 46 x 19 x 29cm (with socle), Cliveden Estate, Buckinghamshire Photo: © National Trust Images/Christopher Warleigh-Lack FIG 2 Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess Astor, photographed in 1926 The Print Collector/Alamy Stock Photo This year marks the centenary of the passing of the Representation of the People Act, which granted some women the right to vote in British parliamentary elections for the first time. This historic advancement in women’s rights is being commemorated through the National Trust’s ‘Women and Power’ programme. A key figure in the struggle for women to gain representation in Parliament was Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess Astor (1879–1964; Fig. 2). A Virginian by birth, Astor became part of a highly influential and powerful network following her marriage to Waldorf Astor (1879–1952) in 1906. The privileged, beautiful, brilliant and outspoken chatelaine of Cliveden, she took the momentous step of becoming the first woman to take a seat in Parliament, on 1 December 1919. Astor has been the subject of much social and political analysis. She appears in many newspaper reports and newsreel clips from the time, and her quips are often repeated. While her hosting of major literary figures, such as Henry James and George Bernard Shaw, at Cliveden has been well documented, there has been less focus on Astor as a subject and patron of 20th-century art. There are several portraits of Astor in the collection at Cliveden, from photographs to bronze sculptures. She was captured by artists as diverse as John Singer Sargent (1856– 1925) and Siegfried Charoux (1896–1967). One portrait in particular, by the American sculptor Jo Davidson (1883– 1952), sheds light on the power balance between artist and subject during sittings (Figs. 1, 3 & 4). The Davidson Papers in the Library of Congress offer a glimpse of Astor as a patron of art. They show her approaching the artist, controlling the cost of the commission and creating opportunities for the artist within her own considerable sphere of influence. Following her historic by-election success in the seat of Plymouth Sutton in 1919, Astor stood as a candidate for the Conservative and Unionist Party in six general elections. Each time she was returned to Parliament. As a pioneering woman in Parliament, she encouraged other women to enter politics and took the trouble to welcome all other new female MPs, whatever party they represented. She was confident on the hustings and vocal in Parliament. Although a Conservative, Astor could not be described as a rigid ideologue. Her primary preoccupation was to improve conditions for women and children. Whether that involved campaigning to extend the representation of women in the civil service or promoting the supply of milk to the poor, she approached these matters with energy, emotion and often a complete lack of tact. Astor showed the same vitality and directness, and to some extent the same abrasive manner, when she became a patron and sitter for Davidson. Astor and Davidson 2 couldn’t have been less alike. Davidson was born in New York City, the son of Russian-Jewish immigrants. During his childhood, Davidson lived in tenement housing on the Lower East Side.1 His politics were firmly left wing. In New York he had worked as assistant to the sculptor Hermon Atkins MacNeil (1866–1947) before studying in Paris at the École des Beaux-Arts. Davidson began his career in Paris at the atelier of the academic sculptor Jean-Antoine Injalbert (1845–1933) before leaving for the more bohemian world of his fellow American expatriate artists.2 Davidson was part of a generation of Americans who studied sculpture in Paris in the latter half of the 19th century, such as Augustus Saint-Gaudens (1848–1907), Gutzon Borglum (1867–1941) and Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (1875–1942). They trained under masters whose tastes and ideas had been formed during the Second Empire in the high academic tradition. The work of these American sculptors was highly regarded; many exhibited in the Salon and some were awarded important public commissions when they returned to America. As a sculptor, Davidson’s style remained constant throughout his long and successful career. His later busts were consistent with those that he had made in Paris even as a student in 1907.3 He was an individual sculptor who was resolute in his quest to portray the history makers of his time – a star-chaser, whose oeuvre of portrait heads would eventually encompass busts of some of the most influential international figures of the 20th century. Maybe that in part was the reason Astor chose Davidson as her portraitist in 1930. By the time Astor approached him, Davidson had already completed a number of highprofile bronze portraits – of the US president Woodrow Wilson, the French Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau and such military figures as Marshal Ferdinand Foch and General John Pershing, completed at the close of the Paris Peace Conference in 1919. In 1923 he sculpted Gertrude Stein, the famous literary figure, who was at the centre of one of the most important salons in Paris. Davidson’s artistic style was a cool classicism, derived from the Beaux-Arts tradition. It was ultimately based on that of 19th-century French sculptors, such as Auguste Rodin (1840–1917). Davidson also worked in traditional media, such as terracotta and bronze. His bronzes were cast in the Valsuani foundry in Paris – the same foundry used by artists such as Degas, Rodin, Renoir, Gauguin, Maillol and Picasso. His work, in sum, was compatible with the figurative sculpture collection at Cliveden. Davidson later remembered his first contact with Lady Astor: I recall one Sunday morning at the Savoy looking forward to a quiet day ahead when the telephone rang.
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nancy astor and jo davidson  55   55 Yvonne [Davidson’s wife] answered. She put her hand over the receiver and said, ‘It’s Lady Astor. Do you know her? Will you speak to her?’ I went to the phone. Lady Astor said, ‘I want you and Mrs Davidson to come to Cliveden to lunch today. I’ll send the car for you and bring you back’. I accepted.4 she ought to be forgiven them ten thousand times. She was the banner bearer and she has deserved our love. One of my favourite recipes in assessing people is to look upon their enemies. Just think of Lady Astor’s. She has achieved a fine little group whom any decent person should be proud to have antagonised.9 Astor, full of spontaneity and charm, greeted Davidson and his wife at Cliveden with the words, ‘Ah, there you are. I’ve gotten all your sitters for you.’5 She must have had it in mind at that point that Davidson should sculpt her great friend George Bernard Shaw. Davidson recalled: She introduced us to everyone. There were some twenty or thirty guests, including Bernard Shaw. Lady Astor seated me next to Shaw, who was at her right […] G.B.S. asked me if I had made a bust of Lady Astor. I hadn’t; in fact, this was the first time I had met her. Lady Astor said, ‘You should do a bust of G.B.S’. ‘I have always wanted to’ I said. ‘I’ll fix that’ said Lady Astor.6 Following the Cliveden visit, Davidson wrote to Astor: I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday, how much I appreciate your cooperation in inducing G.B.S. to sit for me. You said that you could see me Tuesday or Wednesday, – I do so want to do yours better – and see as much of you as possible so when you come over to sit for me, I shall make a real masterpiece of your portrait bust.7 Astor must have prevailed on Davidson to sculpt Shaw’s portrait first, as he wrote to her on 11 April 1930: I am herewith enclosing a couple of prints of the bust that I modelled of G.B.S., on my last trip to London, – due to your perseverance for it would undoubtedly not have been in existence at all had it not been for your intervention. I would love to have your opinion of it […] I am really looking forward to doing a portrait bust of you.8 Davidson retained in his private papers a fragment of an article by Helena Normanton – presumably the same Helena Normanton (1882–1957) who was the first woman to practise as a barrister in England – on female firsts in Parliament. Normanton ranked Astor as the pioneer of women members and her tribute to Astor must have helped Davidson form a particular view of her: Correspondence between Davidson and Astor continued from April 1930 for another 15 months, over which time a certain amount of warmth developed between the two. Davidson was a man of charm. He was persistent in seeking to secure commissions and no less so in his entreaties to Astor to come to Paris to sit for him at his studio at 6 rue Leconte-de-Lisle. He created an atmosphere of intimacy with his sitters: he was a good listener and gave them the feeling that they could say almost anything to him. He described this approach as ‘very simple. I never had them pose but we just talked about everything in the world […] Sometimes [they] talked as if I was their confessor. As they talked, I got an immediate insight.’10 Astor probably responded well to Davidson’s approach to sittings. She had always enjoyed close platonic relationships with members of the opposite sex and could talk with confidence to men both in her private and public life. Davidson provides a glimpse of the intimacy between Astor and himself in his recollection of their conversation about H.G. Wells and his mistress, Odette Keun. Davidson described Astor’s curiosity about Odette and the kind of woman that she was. To satisfy Astor’s curiosity, Davidson offered to invite her, Wells and Odette to lunch when they were all in Paris. Wells thought that Astor and Odette would not get on. In fact, he wondered if Davidson knew what he was doing and told him, ‘We’ll come, but the blood is on your head.’11 Davidson’s memory of the lunch was that it was a great success: Lady Astor asked questions and Odette told all. She told how, where and when she had met ‘Pidou.’ She told of his qualifications: he was her twenty-seventh lover, and he was no good any way. H.G. just sat there and took it. After lunch, Lady Astor turned to him said, ‘You are nothing but an old cup of tea’. When they parted, her Ladyship and Odette embraced.12 Davidson’s memoir recounts personal exchanges between Astor and himself, while his correspondence provides a unique record of their conversations. The Astor of his memoir differs somewhat from the business-like, assertive patron of the letters. The earliest exchange between the two regarding the bust is entirely about cost. Writing on 7 August 1930, Astor came straight to the point, as she had been told that a portrait by Davidson would cost the equivalent of building a nursery school: Most of all it has been a glorious thing that her transatlantic rearing prevented her from having any sex inferiority complex. Alone among six hundred men for some years, she never led one of them to suppose that his mere masculinity had conferred any inherent birthright upon him. A more learned, more tactful woman might have queered the pitch for a generation. If Lady Astor had made a thousand mistakes, Being a parsimonious woman, with a burning desire to see nursery schools established in every slum district in the world, I can’t embark upon so grand an adventure of having a statue to myself, of myself by you, until I know how much it is going to cost.13 She then added to the typed script in her own handwriting: ‘I do hope your rebellious soul will appreciate my parsimony.’14

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54  nancy astor and jo davidson

FIG 1 Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess Astor CH, MP (1879–1964), 1930, Joseph Davidson (1883–1952), bronze with marble socle (not shown), 46 x 19 x 29cm (with socle), Cliveden Estate, Buckinghamshire Photo: © National Trust Images/Christopher Warleigh-Lack FIG 2 Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess Astor, photographed in 1926 The Print Collector/Alamy Stock Photo

This year marks the centenary of the passing of the Representation of the People Act, which granted some women the right to vote in British parliamentary elections for the first time. This historic advancement in women’s rights is being commemorated through the National Trust’s ‘Women and Power’ programme. A key figure in the struggle for women to gain representation in Parliament was Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess Astor (1879–1964; Fig. 2). A Virginian by birth, Astor became part of a highly influential and powerful network following her marriage to Waldorf Astor (1879–1952) in 1906. The privileged, beautiful, brilliant and outspoken chatelaine of Cliveden, she took the momentous step of becoming the first woman to take a seat in Parliament, on 1 December 1919.

Astor has been the subject of much social and political analysis. She appears in many newspaper reports and newsreel clips from the time, and her quips are often repeated. While her hosting of major literary figures, such as Henry James and George Bernard Shaw, at Cliveden has been well documented, there has been less focus on Astor as a subject and patron of 20th-century art. There are several portraits of Astor in the collection at Cliveden, from photographs to bronze sculptures. She was captured by artists as diverse as John Singer Sargent (1856– 1925) and Siegfried Charoux (1896–1967). One portrait in particular, by the American sculptor Jo Davidson (1883– 1952), sheds light on the power balance between artist and subject during sittings (Figs. 1, 3 & 4). The Davidson Papers in the Library of Congress offer a glimpse of Astor as a patron of art. They show her approaching the artist, controlling the cost of the commission and creating opportunities for the artist within her own considerable sphere of influence.

Following her historic by-election success in the seat of Plymouth Sutton in 1919, Astor stood as a candidate for the Conservative and Unionist Party in six general elections. Each time she was returned to Parliament. As a pioneering woman in Parliament, she encouraged other women to enter politics and took the trouble to welcome all other new female MPs, whatever party they represented. She was confident on the hustings and vocal in Parliament. Although a Conservative, Astor could not be described as a rigid ideologue. Her primary preoccupation was to improve conditions for women and children. Whether that involved campaigning to extend the representation of women in the civil service or promoting the supply of milk to the poor, she approached these matters with energy, emotion and often a complete lack of tact.

Astor showed the same vitality and directness, and to some extent the same abrasive manner, when she became a patron and sitter for Davidson. Astor and Davidson

2

couldn’t have been less alike. Davidson was born in New York City, the son of Russian-Jewish immigrants. During his childhood, Davidson lived in tenement housing on the Lower East Side.1 His politics were firmly left wing.

In New York he had worked as assistant to the sculptor Hermon Atkins MacNeil (1866–1947) before studying in Paris at the École des Beaux-Arts. Davidson began his career in Paris at the atelier of the academic sculptor Jean-Antoine Injalbert (1845–1933) before leaving for the more bohemian world of his fellow American expatriate artists.2 Davidson was part of a generation of Americans who studied sculpture in Paris in the latter half of the 19th century, such as Augustus Saint-Gaudens (1848–1907), Gutzon Borglum (1867–1941) and Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (1875–1942). They trained under masters whose tastes and ideas had been formed during the Second Empire in the high academic tradition. The work of these American sculptors was highly regarded; many exhibited in the Salon and some were awarded important public commissions when they returned to America. As a sculptor, Davidson’s style remained constant throughout his long and successful career. His later busts were consistent with those that he had made in Paris even as a student in 1907.3 He was an individual sculptor who was resolute in his quest to portray the history makers of his time – a star-chaser, whose oeuvre of portrait heads would eventually encompass busts of some of the most influential international figures of the 20th century.

Maybe that in part was the reason Astor chose Davidson as her portraitist in 1930. By the time Astor approached him, Davidson had already completed a number of highprofile bronze portraits – of the US president Woodrow Wilson,

the French Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau and such military figures as Marshal Ferdinand Foch and General John Pershing, completed at the close of the Paris Peace Conference in 1919. In 1923 he sculpted Gertrude Stein, the famous literary figure, who was at the centre of one of the most important salons in Paris.

Davidson’s artistic style was a cool classicism, derived from the Beaux-Arts tradition. It was ultimately based on that of 19th-century French sculptors, such as Auguste Rodin (1840–1917). Davidson also worked in traditional media, such as terracotta and bronze. His bronzes were cast in the Valsuani foundry in Paris – the same foundry used by artists such as Degas, Rodin, Renoir, Gauguin, Maillol and Picasso. His work, in sum, was compatible with the figurative sculpture collection at Cliveden. Davidson later remembered his first contact with Lady Astor:

I recall one Sunday morning at the Savoy looking forward to a quiet day ahead when the telephone rang.

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