In America we like to say all men (and women) are created equal. But, indeed, this is not true. For if it were, I’d be able to draw like Beatrix Potter, paint like Vincent Van Gogh, photograph like Beth Kephart, write like Dashiell Hammett (always the mystery reader, am I), play guitar like Derek Trucks and I’d look like…well, I’d still look like me because I’m gawgiousss!
This disparity in talent became quite evident as I toured the “Beatrix Potter: The Picture Letters” exhibit at the Morgan Library in Manhattan.
Not only was Potter a wonderful artist, but she wrote letters to the children of her friends and family in language they could understand, all chock full of illustrations, many of which became the bases of her books. In these letters you see the beginnings of the Tales of Peter Rabbit and many other stories that later became her wonderful books.
It was rare in her day for a woman to have control over her art, but Potter had a vision for how her books would look and she made sure that that’s how they ended up looking. The exhibit was intriguing in that so many of her letters survived over a century.
The exhibit also mentions Thackeray and Lear as two other artists who illustrated their letters. What comes to my mind, though, is the recent exhibit of Vincent Van Gogh’s letters, which contain marvelous illustrations, many of which foreshadow his emotional upheaval.
In my mind, it is Potter’s illustrations, not her story line which make her books stand out. It is wonderful to see how an artist’s mind works, how he/she hones her skill and her stories. If you have the opportunity to view this exhibit, go. The enjoyment you’ll get out of it, is unsurpassed.
(And, if you’re up for a long walk, there’s a cafe, Joe’s Cafe, on Columbus Avenue between 85th and 86th Street, that has a nice sized cup of delicious coffee and great whole wheat apple bread.)
Two Heads Together 
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