The Soul Of the Painting
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

On each side of a small, late-17th- or early-18th-century Spanish frame, positioned like the four points of a compass, sit handcarved, mannequinlike masks. Painted polychrome, with a milky white surface, these masks with their passive gazes — permanently transfixed on some point just over the viewer’s shoulder — produce a slight unease. Four smaller cherub heads, staring out from each of the frame’s four corners, echo these masks. Churning between all eight heads are thickly carved and gilt scrolling leaves and shells. Not an afterthought, this ornate frame is a self-contained work of art. And any drawing, painting, or print placed within its borders would have to work very hard not to be overlooked.
Today, picture frames are so ubiquitous they hardly register: Hidden in plain sight, they are at once everywhere and nowhere. The average frame shop provides endless molding possibilities, making every conceivable color, finish, texture, and style readily available. From cheap plastic for family photos, to brushed aluminum for concert or exhibition posters, to gold or silver for a valued print, frames exist on the edges — and are the edges — of the objects considered dear or important. But this Spanish frame is a reminder of a time when it was not uncommon for the idea of the frame to come first, for a wealthy patron to commission a glorious frame before he even owned the work of art.
Opening January 12, “The Secret Lives of Frames” inaugurates a yearlong celebration of the Julius Lowy Frame & Restoring Co.’s centennial. Founded in 1907, Lowy is the oldest purveyor of frames in America, and counts one the largest, and most important, collections of antique frames. About 100 of the finest examples to have passed through Lowy’s doors in 100 years will be on view, showcasing examples of the Italian, Spanish, French, Dutch, English, and American styles ranging from the 16th through the early 20th century. During this exhibition at Lowy’s Upper East Side townhouse gallery, a selection of frames will be also be on view in the company’s booth at the prestigious Winter Antiques Show at New York’s Seventh Regiment Armory (January 19–28). Continuing the celebration, “Secret Lives” will travel to the Butler Institute of American Art in Youngstown, Ohio (June 10–August 12), and round out the year at the Chrysler Museum of Art in Norfolk, Va. (October 18, 2007–January 6, 2008). Accompanying these centennial exhibitions will be lectures and public events. An extensively illustrated catalog by Deborah Davis detailing Lowy’s history also will be available.
Remarking on the relationship between frames and pictures, American artist Thomas Cole said, “The frame is the soul of the painting.” He and his fellow Hudson River School artists understood how the choice of a frame affects the painting contained within its four sides. Warm and cool gilding enhances light and color, while carved decorative motifs respond to movement within the painting. The Hudson River School artists intentionally mounted their work in gilt frames with a type of fluting capable of capturing light in a way complementary to the glowing pink light emanating from their own canvases.
Artists have long recognized the importance of controlling how their work is framed, even going so far as to design their own frames. In the 17th century, Italian artist Salvatore Rosa designed a simple, uncarved gilt frame, a design now referred to as the Salvatore Rosa style. American Impressionist Childe Hassam designed a frame — inspired by James McNeill Whistler’s Eastern-influenced reeded frames — that is the only known American frame incorporating an artist’s initials.
Many artists have experimented with the idea of literally incorporating the frame into the painting. Georges Seurat often radiated the energy of his pointillist marks out over the frame, suggesting a breaking of boundaries and the desire of the work to be part again of the everyday. Rooted in a questioning of traditional easel painting, the idea that a painting’s energy continued beyond the four sides of a frame — an idea championed by the Abstract Expressionists — led many artists to scrutinize the function, or even the necessity, of the frame.
Today, most artists, and galleries, resolutely decide not to frame the art, leaving the canvas edges exposed. Often, if an artist decides to use a frame, it is as a conceptual prop, like the neo-Baroque frames used by Kehinde Wiley or the frame-within-aframe paintings of Howard Hodgkin. Although contemporary art demands contemporary display solutions, to disregard completely the intimate relationship expressed by Thomas Cole seems foolish. Imagine the various layers of experience created for the viewer simply by placing, say, a jagged Kurt Schwitters collage inside a gilt 17th-century auricular frame with loping, deeply carved scrolls and volutes.
During the first half of the 20th century, as artists like Piet Mondrian began to dismiss the frame, museums, too, began to diminish the frame’s integral position to the artwork in their collections. In the 1960s, the Museum of Modern Art commissioned artist Robert Kulicke to design a spare metalstrip-style frame. It was MoMA’s intention to remove all period frames to storage and unify the collection into a gallery format more suitable for the museum’s modern architecture. Fortunately for frames and the intrepid people who championed their importance — like Stuart Feld, former curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, now with Hirschl & Adler Galleries — museums since the 1970s have been rethinking their decision to banish period frames. Work in the Justin K. Thannhauser collection at the Guggenheim Museum has been returned to modern frames. In the early 1990s, even MoMA reframed two of its masterpieces, Paul Cézanne’s “The Bather” (c. 1885) and Vincent Van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” (1889).
Considering the dramatic narratives in the lives of frames — and Lowy’s central role in the last 100 years — these celebratory exhibitions should spoil the secret and bring frames back into focus as equal players in the experience of a work of art.
January 12 until April 13 (223 E. 80th St., between Second and Third avenues, 212-861-8585).