Brain Pickings by Mario Popova – Newsletter


 
 This is the Brain Pickings midweek pick-me-up: Once a week, I plunge into my years-deep archive and resurface something worth resavoring as timeless nourishment for heart, mind, and spirit. (If you don’t yet subscribe to the standard Sunday newsletter of new pieces published each week, you can sign up here — it’s free.) If you missed last week’s archival excavation — The Lion and The Bird: a tender illustrated story about loneliness, loyalty, and the gift of friendship — you can catch up right here. And if my labor of love enriches your life in any way, please consider supporting it with a donation – for fourteen years, I have spent tens of thousands of hours, made many personal sacrifices, and invested tremendous resources in Brain Pickings, which remains free and ad-free and alive thanks to reader patronage. If you already donate: THANK YOU.
FROM THE ARCHIVE | Trees at Night: Stunning Rorschach Silhouettes from the 1920s

Walt Whitman considered trees the wisest of teachers. Hermann Hesse found in them sweet consolation for our mortality. Wangari Maathai turned to them as a form of resistance and empowerment that earned her the Nobel Peace Prize. “The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in the way,” William Blake wrote in his most beautiful letter. “As a man is, so he sees.”
A century after Blake, the artist, writer, and activist Arthur Henry “Art” Young (January 14, 1866–December 29, 1943) originated a sumptuous new way of seeing life, looking at trees.
In his forties, Young had risen to prominence with his political cartoons, criticizing capitalism and war, railing against racism, and advocating for women’s suffrage and the abolition of child labor. During World War I, they had rendered him prosecuted on a charge of conspiracy to obstruct recruiting. With some of Thoreau coursing through his veins, Young made his art both an instrument of civil disobedience and a lens for contemplating nature’s transcendent beauty.
artyoung.jpg?resize=680%2C927Art Young
In his fifties, Young’s imagination fell upon a subject both wholly natural and wholly original — the expressive humanlike shapes, states, and emotions emanating from the silhouettes of trees at night. He began rendering what he half-saw and half-imagined in pen and ink — haunting black-and-white drawings full of feeling, straddling the playful and the poignant. These visual poems, replete with the strangeness and splendor of nature and human nature, become the kind of Rorschach test one intuitively performs while looking at the sky, but drawn from the canopy rather than the clouds. While the sensibility is faintly reminiscent of Arthur Rackham’s unforgettable trees, the concept is entirely Young’s own — no artist had done anything like this before.
artyoung_treesatnight2.jpg?resize=680%2C1072Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight6.jpg?resize=680%2C1061Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight7.jpg?resize=680%2C1070Available as a print
First published as a series in the Saturday Evening Post, Young’s tree silhouettes were soon picked up by mainstream magazines like Collier’s and LIFE. They drew impassioned letters from readers — some sharing poems inspired by his art, some enclosing tree photographs they hoped Young would draw, some simply thanking him for these uncommon portals into an unseen world of beauty and emotion.
artyoung_treesatnight9.jpg?resize=680%2C1059Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight10.jpg?resize=680%2C1058Available as a print
In 1927, Young assembled the best of his arborescent silhouettes in the slim, lovely out-of-print treasure Trees at Night (public library). Upon the book’s publication, Brooklyn’s Daily Eagle exulted that it “places Art Young in a class by himself” and Baltimore’s Evening Sun lauded him as “one of the few real native talents that this country has produced in art.”
artyoung_treesatnight3.jpg?resize=680%2C1056Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight15.jpg?resize=680%2C1083Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight5.jpg?resize=680%2C1059Available as a print
Printed on the opening page is an excerpt from an early-autumn entry in Young’s diary:
2e292385-dc1c-4cfe-b95e-845f6f98c2ec.pngIn common with most people of artistic perception, I like trees. While looking out of my window toward the wooded hills one summer night, a caravan of camels seemed to be humping along the sky. They were trees of course but enough like camels to key my imagination up to discover other pictures in the formation of foliage. The rest of the summer nights I enjoyed hunting for tree pictures against the light of the sky or thrown into relief by the glare of automobiles, and drawing them next day. It seemed to me that this silhouette handling of trees at night had never before been done by any artist. I felt that I had discovered something.
After the caravan, I saw “a woman and a fan” and other subjects followed. Any night I could walk or ride along the road and see interesting silhouettes made by tree forms, many of them so clearly defined as to need no improvement on my part. But aside from the appearance of a tree by day or night, is it not kin of the human family with its roots in the earth and its arms stretching toward the sky as if to seek and to know the great mystery?
artyoung_treesatnight4.jpg?resize=680%2C1048Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight16.jpg?resize=680%2C1046Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight14.jpg?resize=680%2C1081Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight13.jpg?resize=680%2C1023Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight12.jpg?resize=680%2C1065Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight1.jpg?resize=680%2C1074Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight11.jpg?resize=680%2C1034Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight8.jpg?resize=680%2C1079Available as a print
artyoung_treesatnight17.jpg?resize=680%2C506Available as a print
Complement Young’s Trees at Night with something he never lived to know but would have cherished knowing — the fascinating science of what trees feel and how they communicate — then revisit The Night Life of Trees, drawn from Indian folklore, and philosopher Martin Buber on what trees teach us about being human.
A portion of the proceeds from these art prints supports the beautiful and necessary work of the Arbor Day Foundation.
FORWARD TO A FRIEND/READ ONLINE/
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In 2020, I spent thousands of hours and thousands of dollars keeping Brain Pickings going. For fourteen years, it has remained free and ad-free and alive thanks to patronage from readers. I have no staff, no interns, not even an assistant — a thoroughly one-woman labor of love that is also my life and my livelihood. If this labor has enlarged and enriched your own life this year, please consider aiding its sustenance with a one-time or loyal donation. Your support makes all the difference.monthly donation
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KINDRED READINGS:

How an Artist is Like a Tree: Paul Klee on Creativity
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Relationship Lessons from Trees
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The Science of How Alive You Really Are: Alan Turing, Trees, and the Wonder of Life
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A SMALL, DELIGHTFUL SIDE PROJECT:
Vintage Science Face Masks Benefiting the Nature Conservancy

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