Genre
REGINALD MARSH (1898–1954)
Cocktails—5 to 7, 1940
Watercolor and pencil on paperboard, 26 1/2 x 40 in.
Signed and dated (at lower left): Reginald Marsh 1940
RECORDED: Lloyd Goodrich, Reginald Marsh (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 1972), p. 175 illus. in color // Thomas H. Garver, Reginald Marsh: A Retrospective Exhibition, exhib. cat. (Newport, California: Newport Harbor Art Museum, 1972), “Introduction,” n.p.
EXHIBITED: Frank H. Rehn Galleries, New York, March 11–30, 1940, Exhibition by Reginald Marsh, no. 14 // Fine Arts Galleries of the University of Pittsburgh, January 17–February 22, 1970, Reginald Marsh, 1898–1954: Selected Paintings and Sketches from the Collections of Reginald Marsh and The Honorable and Mrs. William Benton, no. 28 // D.C. Moore, New York, November 13, 1996–January 4, 1997, Reginald Marsh’s New York // Addison Gallery of American Art, Phillips Academy, Andover, Massachusetts, January 17–March 30, 1997, p. 25
EX COLL.: the artist; to Senator William Benton (1900–1973), Southport, Connecticut, until 1973; by descent to his daughter, Louise Benton Wagner (1937–1999), Chicago; to her estate; to sale, Christie’s New York, May 25, 2000, lot 25; to private collection, until the present
Cocktails—5 to 7 is a scene of “high class” hijinks set at an art event. That Marsh had a specific art event in mind is evidenced by the fact that he “signed” the picture looming over the crowd at the upper right with the name “Picasso.” That work was hanging in the MoMA show when Marsh appropriated it for his own purposes. It is a cubist oil portrait from 1938, likely of Dora Maar, Picasso’s lover from 1936 to 1943 (p. 187 no. 349 in the show catalogue), lent to MoMA in 1939 by its owner, Walter P. Chrysler, Jr. Cocktails—5 to 7 contains other, less obvious references to Picasso. The two figures at the top left of Marsh’s pictures are composites of a 1918 Picasso drawing, Pierrot and Harlequin (p. 93 no. 133), lent by Mrs. Charles B. Goodspeed. Marsh does not quote Picasso; rather, he samples him. Picasso did not sign Portrait at the top of the woman’s right shoulder; Marsh did. There are other elements of Marsh’s picture that are Picasso-esque. The rooster on the globe in the center rear recalls a favorite Picasso theme in the show (e.g., Cock, p. 186 no. 346, and others). The cubist “face” in the center resembles a sketch for the head of a horse from Guernica. The blue rat in armor at the upper right awaits identification. The architectural background of this cocktail party is neither a museum gallery nor a New York apartment interior. It is, rather, a cubist architectonic jumble punctuated by references to Picasso’s cubist art. Though he did not count himself among the vocal opponents of “modern” art, Marsh was a thoroughly committed realist, apparently never tempted to “experiment” with the ever-changing styles of twentieth-century art. Cocktails—5 to 7, in fact, appears to be Marsh’s sole foray, tongue in cheek, into the precincts of cubism.
The picture divides neatly into two planes: the cubist background and the foreground of iconic Marsh figures. The background reads as theatrical backdrop, recalling his early days of theater work. It might possibly be read as Marsh’s sarcastic comment on the deliberate disruption of cubism, or maybe it is just Marsh having fun. The foreground figures are another matter. These are denizens from the pages of The New Yorker, descended from forebears drawn by Daumier, Hogarth, and Bruegel.
Cocktails—5 to 7 is Marsh’s caustic comment on the use of fine art as a status marker by a circle of “patrons” whose overriding interests are sex and alcohol (with an added plug of tobacco). The curator Thomas H. Garver, in his introductory essay to a 1972–73 traveling Marsh exhibition, calls this picture (which was not part of the exhibition) “a devastating look at the opening of an art exhibition at which the wealthy preview patrons are much more interested in quenching their thirst and looking at themselves than at art” (Reginald Marsh: A Retrospective Exhibition, exhib. cat. [Newport Beach, California: Newport Harbor Art Museum, 1972], n.p.) While here the affluent throng ignores Picasso, at least the Spaniard enjoyed the consolation of being chic and trendy. No such comfort was available to Reginald Marsh, who had not yet found a group of collectors willing to part with their money to support his career.
