Martel (after)
L. Geissler (lithographer), Henry C. Eno (printer)
Martel's New York Central Park
William H. Shields, New York (publisher)
The Central Park Publishing Co., New York: c. 1864
Lithograph printed with tintstones, additional hand color
23 1/4 by 36 1/4 inches, image
27 1/2 by 40 1/2 inches, sheet
Price On Request
New York's Central Park
Large 19th Century View
Large 19th Century View
 |
||
|
|
|
This impressive bird's-eye view of the just-completed Central Park is taken from a viewpoint above the corner of Fifth Avenue and 58th Street. In the park, a throng with pedestrians and carriages, the mighty American Elms that flank the Mall are still small trees; the smaller, old reservoir is still in use; and there are no perimeter walls. The Hudson River and the Palisades of its far shore are visible across a virtually uninhabited Upper West Side.
The period from after the Civil War to about 1910 was the heyday of promotional bird’s-eye views of American towns. Historians estimate that some 4,500 views were produced nationwide during this period. In an era before aviation, the creation of these panoramas was an act of imagination, combining information from city maps, ground-level sketches of buildings and the rules of Renaissance perspective into a convincing aerial view. Some of these views were commissioned to promote settlement and development of towns, especially as part of the Westward Expansion of the United States, but they were also purchased by residents as emblems of civic pride. Hand-drawn views were largely supplanted by aerial photographs in the 20th century.
The following is a description of an example of this print in the collection of the New York Public Library. The description is quoted verbatim from Gloria Gilda Deák, Picturing America (Princeton University Press: 1989):
Item 790
MARTEL'S NEW YORK CENTRAL PARK.
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE PARK COMMISSIONERS. PUBLISHED BY THE CENTRAL PARK PUBLISHING CO. 720 BROADWAY N.Y. LITH. OF HENRY C. ENO, 37 PARK ROW, N.Y. ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS IN THE YEAR 1864. BY THE CENTRAL PARK PUBLISHING CO., IN THE CLERK'S OFFICE TO THE DISTRICT COURT OF THE UNITED STATES, FOR THE SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW YORK. On the stone: MARTEL, PINXT. J.C. GEISSLER.
Lithograph. Size: 23 5/16 X 36 3/8 inches; 592 X 924 mm. Date depicted: 1864. Date issued: 1864. State: first. Artist: (?) Pierre Martel. Lithographer: (?) J.C. Geissler. Lithographic printer: Henry C. Eno. References: Iconography, Vol.3, pl. 151 and p.771; Eno 372. Collection: Stokes, P.1863- E-132.
On 21 July 1853 the New York City Common Council passed an act declaring that the land now know as Central Park -- bounded by the 59th and 106th streets, Fifth and Eighth Avenues -- to be public place and authorizing the city to take said land for public use. Earlier, in 1850, the mayor of the city, in his second annual message to the Board of Aldermen, had declared that the "advantages of open squares in a populous city, are so apparent and so important, that no well governed city was ever content to be without them. They not only greatly beautify a city, but are essential aids to public health. They are the great breathing places of the toiling masses who have no other resort in the heat of the summer or in times of pestilence, for pure air and healthful recreation, either for themselves or children." The mayor also pointed out that, combined, all the public squares of the city occupied less than one fourth of one of the large parks in the city of London.
By 1853, New York was spreading steadily northward. Though it then had a population of 696,115, only a few open squares served to give this large number of city dwellers breathing space. The site that was destined to become Central Park was indeed open, but it was bleak, rubbish-strewn area littered with squatters' shacks, which added to its desolateness.
Some of the reasons for the absence of parks in Manhattan at the time can be traced back to 1811, when the commissioner of streets and roads submitted their plan for the layout of the city. In the proposing the cultivation of open areas of substantial acreage for recreational relief, they were admittedly ungenerous, excusing their position by saying that nature had bountifully provided all the relief necessary:
"Certainly if the City of New York were distained to stand on the side of a small stream such as the Seine or the Thames, a great number of ample places might be needful; but those large arms of sea which embraces Manhattan Island render its situation, in regard to health and pleasure, as well as to the convenience of commerce, peculiarly felicitous; when therefore, from the same causes the price of land is so uncommonly great, it seemed proper to admit the principles of economy to greater influence than might, under circumstances of a different kind, have consisted with the dictates of prudence and the sense of duty" (Fredrick Olmsted Jr. and Theodora Kimball, eds., Forty Years of Landscape Architecture, P.20).
Fortunately, by the middle of the century this view no longer prevailed, and the city acquired a central tract of land (stretching from 59th street to the old reservoir at 106th street) for a large pleasure ground to augment the limited recreational benefits provided by those "large arms of the sea." To undertake the embellishment of this once-blighted area for park purposes, the city threw open the competition for an appropriate master plan. The winners, over more than thirty other entrants, were Calvert Vaux and Frederick Law Olmsted. Vaux was a young British architect and Olmsted an American farmer and magazine editor who (he later reminisced) "had no more idea of ever being a park-maker than of taking command of the channel fleet" (quoted in Elizabeth Barlow, Frederick Law Olmsted's New York, p.16).
There was a staggering amount of work to be done to transform the area into a blend of pastoral and woodland scenery. This involved the design and construction of roadways, tunnels, bridges, arches, stairways, fountains, benches, lamp posts, gates, fences and innumerable other artifacts. It also involved the supervision of an army of about five thousand laborers. From the start, Olmsted and Vaux (who had called their winning plan "Greensward") were determined to make the proposed park a poetic oasis that would render life for city inhabitants healthier and happier. Despite the many financial and political setbacks they encountered in realizing so massive an undertaking, they succeeded admirably.
The lithograph gives us an aerial view of the land acquired by the city as a breathing place for "the toiling masses." The time six years after the work of improvement had begun. Already a good bit of the area is landscaped, and from high vantage points we get a good indication of the blue print that guided the planners. Olmsted, to whom most of the credit goes, insisted on seeing the multidimensional project as a single work of art, which he was mandated to create. For this purpose, he ventured to assume to himself the title of "artist."
We see here the rhythmic laying out of the roads, which dip and curve with the natural contours of the land and embrace the several reservoirs in the northward journey. Running out off sight to the right is the wide, undeveloped boulevard of Fifth Avenue, which makes a strong linear contrast with the arcs of the park roadways. The buildings that appear on the east side of the avenue are the progenitors of today's luxury residences. The boulevard at a right angle to Fifth Avenue, going off to the left (we see only a small stretch of it), is 59th Street, where today's fashionable Plaza Hotel stands.
On the east side of the park, facing 64th street the building with flag flying the arsenal, which was completed in 1851 to store arms and munitions belonging to the state. The arsenal contained a number of Revolutionary War relics in a cellar under one of the wings. It was abandoned as an arsenal about six years before our lithograph was issued and was subsequently used as a Natural History Museum. Today it is an administrative building of the parks department.
The issues of Valentine's Manual for the years 1859 and 1864 contain several views showing the progress of work during the development of the park. The Barlow volume cited earlier is also enriched with many significant prints and photographs. A good idea of the flavor of the finished park during the heyday of hansom cabs, liveried drivers, and fashionable strollers can be found in the richly detailed watercolors of the artist Maurice B. Prendergast, whose Central Park series executed around the turn of the century shows no automobiles. It might be mentioned that a request was made in June 1899 to drive a motorcar in the park. The city refused, because it was believed that this vehicle "might frighten horses and otherwise be a disfigurement or annoyance." By late autumn of the same year, however the city had succumbed to pressure to issue a permit.
The Library's lithograph, "respectfully dedicated to the park commissioners" by the artist, is somewhat mutilated; it is mounted on a linen backing. A second state of the print was published by Caldwell and Company and has a list of locations along the lower margin.
The first name of the artist (whose signature appears on the stone) is not known. The only Martel (also Peter Martel), who was the owner of a boarding house at 52 Clinton Place. There is also scant information about the lithographer J.C. Geissler (whose name appears on the stone at the right and whose initials are difficult to decipher). Perhaps he is the J. Geissler listed in the New York City directory for 1863-1864 as an artist.
-- Gloria Gilda Deák
Condition: An extraordinary print, though with professional conservation of some considerable long and short tears in the image and chips in margins. With conservation, these tears are not noticeable except on close inspection, and do not detract from the overall historical or decorative appeal. The paper conservator also cleaned and de-acidified the print. Thus, the condition is acceptable considering the size and rarity of image. For example, one of the few other examples of this print, in the collection of the New York Public Library, is said by scholar Gloria Deak to be "somewhat mutilated."
References:
Deák, Gloria Gilda. Picturing America. Princeton University Press: 1989. Item 790.
Peters, Harry T. America on Stone. U.S.: Doubleday, Doran, 1931. p. 180 (under Eno).