Letter from ANDREW WYETH (American, 1917-2009) to Alice Moore
and a Letter from CAROLYN WYETH to Alice Moore
Friday, March 24, 1939; mailed Friday, March 24, 1939
My Dear:
By this time you must be feeling much better. I certainly hope so.
I have been thinking of you a great deal lately and it seems ages since I last saw you. In fact, it's hard for me to remember what you look like, although I do know that you are very beautiful. I mean this in all seriousness, believe me. I do want to see you soon.
I have been doing all sorts of work this last couple of weeks. Just finished a group of pen drawings for a book and also did one of my best portraits of Ann. Am working on one of Jake now. Am beginning illustrations for a book about Maine for Little Brown & Co., which ought to be interesting to do I think.
I received good news yesterday. Mr. Homer St. Gaudens has invited one of my tempera panels out to the International in Pittsburgh next fall. This is considered the biggest show in the country and I am the youngest artist ever to be invited. Most artists would give their eye teeth to get asked. What luck for me.
Heard from Jim Balano the other day and he seems to be getting along fine with his writing and also having a wonderful time. I never thought he really had the guts to go up there and live and I am happy to know that I was wrong.
I am leaving for Maine around the first of May. The time can't go fast enough until then. Will write again soon my sweet, and please hurry and get well.
Love
Andy
[Accompanied by a black and white photograph of an AW self portrait, inscribed verso "this is what I look like at work in my studio. A. Painted this several months ago."]
Mailed April 19, 1939
Dear Alice:
It is Tuesday night and I have just had a delicious dinner consisting of baked Delaware shad with the roe, fresh asparagus, and to complete this orgy, a cup of Alice's good coffee, with its compliment, a Chesterfield. Now that the baser side of my being is satisfied, I will proceed to write you Alice. God! what a girl I am, honestly.
I was so darn glad to hear from you Alice, in your own handwriting by God too - which means you must be feeling somewhat better now. I liked so much the description of your bedroom Alice, but there was a certain pathos about it all, what I mean by it is, knowing you have been so darn sick - I wish I were able to come into your bedroom right now and cheer you up, even to the extent of wearing my old blue bathing cap. I'd probably have a couple of Coca-Cola bottles tucked under my arm, mind?
Andy and myself went to a large charity ball at the duPont hotel last Friday night, almost jitter bugged my legs off. By the way, Andy got feeling quite high, not tight, but damn high. Andy wanted me to attend one large dance before leaving for Port Clyde, the date now being May the fourteenth. At least I'm being perpetuated for posterity, Andy is painting a portrait of me in egg tempera, he painted a stunning one of Ann last month - He certainly should do one of you this summer in Maine Alice.
Pa is feeling well now, in fact he has lost twenty-one pounds, quite a major achievement in it self.
I certainly haven't said much in this long drawn-out letter, but hell! you know me by now Alice.
Lots of love,
Carolyn
P.S. I have just heard that the "seductress" Mary Sargent has given up her position in New York, and is taking up painting in Plainfield with her mother, Boy Oh! Boy!
[Accompanied by a newspaper clipping with the headline "Andrew Wyeth, at 21, Rated an Important Art Figure" with note from Carolyn at top, "don't tell Andy I sent you this baloney, for heaven's sake"]