291 Fifth Ave., New York

November 4, 1912.

My dear Hartley:

I have not been well and hence the delay in letting you have enclosed.
The draft includes $8.00 for the Picasso etching you speak about in your
letter, which I just received and with which I was very happy. I hope that
in a couple of days I will be in shape again to write to you myself. Not
only have I been under the weather, but much that has been very trying in
family affairs outside of "1111" has weighed rather heavily upon me.

Marin has just left me. He has been through a seige of illness again.
He requests me to send you his regards.

The Little Gallery is at last being put into shape and if I remain on
my feet we will upon up with the achievements of Alfred Prueh about November
15th. Marie is taking this down for me so the typewriting will not be quite
as automatic as it would seem.

Always your friend,

[COPY]

Received Dec. 20, 1912.

My dear Stieglitz:

There seems to be much I should like to tell you--if I could suddenly
walk in upon you in the little place of 'home' I know we would have much to say
to each other. Naturally I find much outside myself for stimulation. The pungress
of the art system here is a constant source of interest--not because it is so
great but because the energy itself is so great and so prolific. One feels here
always how important really art can be, and is to people in Europe. I feel daily
like thanking some unseen deity or other for giving sustenance and a beating pulse
to this thing which is so fine and elevating to those who practice it faithfully
or those who believe. One learns with ever increasing magnitude what the real
significance of this fine thing is which we call art. I am rich naturally in many
new and vitalizing sensations which were gathred in London. I suppose there is
nothing more wondrous than the British Museum--one gets into such close touch
with those civilizations which were so prolific in the production of art-- the
Egyptians--the Assyrians--the Africans in quality if not quantity. In all these
people there was such a need of art by way of glorifying the specific genius of
each either for purposes of religion or for symbolism or pure mysticism. I am
sorry to confess that the Greek sculpture left me unmoved, that is in the way I
like to be moved. I find too much aestheticism in their 'elgin' marbles, too
much of over refinement and sweetness. With the Egyptians and the Assyrians
there was a deeper and more satisfying impulse. I am only speaking for myself
of course--merely analyzing my own sensation for myself. And so I came back to
Paris with only a great memory of the art I saw--otherwise London left me cold
generally. I find it to be a good field to venture into, because there is ex-
ceedingly little there to stimulate and edify one truly. The Grafton Show which
was very disappointing seemed still to be like a fresh and green oasis in the most
parched or deserts. The English seem only to be mulling over and over the same
sentimentalism in the mildest variations. The so called Post-Impressionists or
the Roger Fry group were anything but refreshing, not to speak of the Camden-Town

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me. I am convinced that no one is benefiting more from it than I am doing at this time. I am doing nothing but grow, doing nothing that hinders that growth, and I feel like I were a shrub dug out of a dry desert and set to sprouting vigorously with blossominings at every point where the sun enters. I am making every effort by way of concentration and faith toward going to Berlin early in January and if it is in any way possible to come back by way of Munich, as I would like to meet Kandinsky and size up the Blau Reitner group and its activity there. My German friends ask me why I don't exhibit in Munich as they would appreciate what I am doing. I want to do this, and so if conditions and circumstances are right I will do so. It is best to know all things on their own ground and it would be profitable generally for me to see what the opportunities are. All I need is practically the extra railroad fare. If I could make a hit somewhere in London by then the whole things would be accomplished. I want to do all this and a lot of work by April when I suppose I must go back to America. In some senses I want to, but in the serious all around sense it would be so excellent if I could stay longer. I am so free here and never so full of development. Perhaps a miracle will drop from the skies, however, every day is sufficient unto itself.

I find great stimulation in the fragments of English translation I have of the great German mystic Jacob Boeckner about whom I have had an eager curiosity for several years. I have only just succeeded in getting a little in translation as there is very little and in German it is next to impossible to get, only to look at in libraries. He is wonderful and greatest of all in his pure mysticism. It is helping me to perfect these ideas I am working on. I only wish you could be here to take a look at them for you would be interested. I am not showing them except to the boys as they come to see me, a group of young and fine Germans some of whom speak English, and with whom I find myself congenial. One a lecturer at the Boobonne (23 years old) another an etcher etc.

Well here I must close as you will be tired of all this talk and I am fatigued myself. I find work and the constant thought about it quite enough for the energy I have. Give my love to Mrs. S. also to Keiley when you see him,

Kerfoot, Kindest regards to Marin, Halpert, Walkowitz, Dove, Haviland, De Zayag, all others, Mrs. Neyer, Simonson, Miss Rhoades, Miss Becket, quite a fine collection after all. For yourself always the same esteem and devotion. I look forward always to any word from you as you give me the only real sense of home I have otherwise I would be houseless spiritually speaking.

Oh yesI have the Picasso etching here in my studio now and it is lovely.

You will be so glad to have it and I am enjoying it meanwhile. I suppose Davies is at home by now and will doubtless drop in on you sooner or later. They had fine success in getting things for the mammoth show. Picasso has a big show in Munich in February. I might get to see it if I can manage it. You might send me Frank Eugene's address there so that if I go he could keep me make connections etc. and I would like to meet him naturally. Love and best wishes for a happy Christmas and a splendid New Year,

Always your friend,

(Signed) Marsden Hartley.

I do wish somebody would be a still life or two of mine so I could have a
for travel. 75 or 100 would be wonders.

Took Thanksgiving dinner with the Steichens at Voulaçis. It was so nice and the children so lovely. All are well and happy, Mary talkative and Kate so still both so lovely and amusing.

Dear Stieglitz;

I meant to ask you when I saw you last, to
order for me the complete works of Francis Thompson, three
volumes, two of poetry and one of prose; I have put this off
for all reasons and for no reasons and I really do not know
this poet as I actually ought; I think the American
edition is by Scribner, but I thought you would give me the
advantage of the percent you get from Baker Taylor, and this
reduces the cost considerably; It is $5.00 complete;
Would you do this for me as soon as possible in these next
days and have them sent parcel post to me here, as here is the
only way I can enjoy them, and there are references I need
to be familiar with; I want also to talk to you when
I come in again with reference to doing something somehow
toward making something move as regards getting that fixed
idea of mine into operation, the disposal of the pictures
getting a fresh connection with Miss Katherine Dreyer, Mr.
Merkel, and so on, as nothing seems ever to be going to happen
in that line unless I really do humiliate myself and go and
speak personally of it; I really must feel something
going on toward my escape from this terrible imprisonment
to which I feel myself subjected; I must save myself,
since nothing on no one can or will save me; I have great
obligations to myself, I really cannot feel the time slipping
out of my hands continually, and suffer the terrific drain on

my spirit which I have endured the last year; This is not
whim, it is spiritual necessity; I know myself, and know
that I must find that environment in which I can proceed, for
developments are exhausting to my inward life, and I do all but
perish under them; I know how much I am outside life, and I
know that there is an appalling brevity of the hour in which
to do the unending work I have set myself to do; I must get
somewhere in the world where I can feel the sense of continu-
ance and *not* the sense of daily respite; Work is my
escape from that which is beyond the power of description to
me; I want the next two years freedom to accomplish
what must actually be done, not beacuae I have personal wishes
to gratify, for I want nothing whatsoever myself, nothing; I
am removed from wanting, but there are certain outward condi-
tions to be met, and I cannot sit always upon an alien hill,
and for all I cannot understand, I still feel these unpersonal
desires are not preposterous; I is not out of reason,
despite every argument I have threshed out; The accomplish-
ment of this will humiliate no condition, and make me the
saviour of myself by work; The condition in which I
can work is not at all peculiar, it is only special, and I was
always a thing suffering for escapement; I will talk to
you of this once more if I may, and see if you agree with my
next suggestion, as all this could happen if the proper touch
can be made; I only wish Daniel would see actually

his opportunity, for I would make any ridiculous sacrifice
for the sake of releasing myself and he would be the gainer
many fold as he is even now; I have always to sit
and struggle out the moments wishing against the very blankness
of walls, and it is taxing; I want release, and release
is necessary; However, keep in mind that I am never
failing to appreciate your unfailing devotion and your
unswerving interest in the problem you set for yourself in
the behalf of those of us who but for you would be hardly
visible owing to the indifference of the public in general;
You need still I think, the faith of a few, and I take place
among them now as of old; You know well enough that
the inward strife in me is as tense as ever and does not lessen
with the disillusionment which I suffer daily because it is
all too evident; I do not lose my faith in what I
have always understood, but I have suffered some hard blows
the past year or two, which affect no one more than myself, for
which there is little form in words, which at this time you
find me using more than ever since you have known me; There
is little else to do with them, but to make of them some sort
of antiphon, against the too tragic recitative which I am
compelled to hear ringing down my days; I had not
originally meant this to be a letter, I had thought merely to
speak of the books, but here you have it once again when I
really thought I would be truly superior for once, and speak

that one pays not only the other three cents, but three extra for bonus,
making each letter cost me six cents which is a high rate for my friends
thoughts, though I do appreciate the letters naturally; Write when
you can, and tell me any news of interest; I shall feel better when
I can really get my quota of sleep, and can find a place to be alone in,
for it is very wearying living in one house with a lot of people who
mean nothing whatsoever to one, as you well know;

I do not hear of the shipment of the box of goods for me, but I suppose
it has left N.Y. by this time and that it will turn up somehow;
once again, with very best wishes and many thanks, I am

As always,

Dear Stieglitz:-

Your letter with check arrived yesterday,
for which my thanks. I am sitting on a hill of dullness
here, and but for my friend Gould the poet, I should not be here
and certainly shall never come again. There is always
that same thing comes over me when I see a mountain mist, and I
want to run or fly into space immediately. I am sleeping
well however, for that is what mountain air does to one at first.
I came here only for the sake of Gould who is one of those human
giants washed up on a mindless shore, and finds himself cast up
on life with nothing but supreme contempt for civilization, and
has respect only for the past in which there were at least events
of grandeur and style.

I want to get down out of here and really get on my way to the
southwest for in that lies the only salvation that is in evidence
for me. I build everything on what that illusion will offer
me for it is all nothing but illusion to me now. There is no
use being tricked by any belief in life. It is absurdity, and
no one knows it better than myself or even you for that matter.
I should certainly be through with it if I did not have a strong
feeling for work, and the impulse to strengthen myself as an artis
tic force. I know I shall revive myself when I can see a
new country, I know that I shall do a great deal more than I have
done for some time, for in work lies my only interest. I want
release from what cheap individuals are so prone to call life,
I want an open space for my eyes to regain their vision, and my
mind to feel itself free again. I know that the only thin
left me in this country is that which I hope to find down there,
for I know now once and for all, that there is something deadly
in the east, there is something sapping the vitality of one in all
this lethargy of the soul that settles down on one here. I
can find no other symbol for it than the mountain, and I have got
to go where I can see another face in nature, where she shall
reveal me at least one more facet of her so involved countenance.
People have done me out of my belief, perhaps nature will restore
the proper sense, by revealing new sublimities. I rely on thea
utterly. I must go to Lewiston on Monday and get the
family visiting done, and then go on down to Boston, and attend to
the sending of the three pictures, and then get back to N.Y. to
pack up. I hope the first of July will see me at work
again in earnest and without hindrance of any sort.
I hope things go easier with you, I hope they are less defiant.
I wonder where the equilibrium is for such weak ones or such
strong ones as we are.

[July 20, 1918]

My Dear Stieglitz:-

I do hope you will pardon me for seeming to pursue you so intensely, but you know what a panic it always creates in my mind when I do not hear, and I need money very badly now, as I have used up what was left over the fare, etc., Fortunately Waldo Frank and his wife, who were here for a week were good enough to ask to buy a small picture, and gave me a small advance on it, so that I would have something to do on, until you send me some. I think it would be better for me to have the balance I have on hand here and put it in the national bank here, for then I would be able to take out my weekly need, and know that it would be there when I need it.
Please therefore, if you have not already done so, send me a check for either the whole of what I have or say $150-, if you are not in New York when you get this; I do not want to ask anyone for money, as you know I dislike this, but of course I can if I have to; It will make life easier for me if I have these things straightened out, for I have certainly had a hard time since I came here, with the whirl-wind of uncertainties going through my brain, and the high altitude taking its daily toll out of the system; I did not think it would take so long, but they it does take some time for some people. I am in general dissapointed in Taos, for I did not know that I was coming to a green valley just like any valley in New England. I wish now that I had remained in Santa Fe, for around there is the country much more like what I had anticipated before I started, and much more typical on the way from Trinidad, Colorado to Santa Fe, especially at Las Vegas, which is a very desirable land of legend as far as the fantasy of colour goes. I shall probably remain here until late fall, for they say that when the snow comes on the mountains here, it is very beautiful, and I can imagine that; They are cutting the hay and the Alfalfa now, and that is what makes the valley so green, but the main dissapointment is that there are no mesas here, and none of those perculiar flat top hills of a deep rich chocolate colour, which I found so attractive on the way up.
Then too, outside of the few charming people, like Mrs. C., Maurice and Mabel S, Leo S., which is of course rare to find in a far away place, the rest of the people are simply impossible, dreadful painters, who are just nasty tongued, and talking all the time about someone. I have never gotten in to such a mean little place, and even though I keep to myself, there is an immense jealousy toward any outside artist who comes in here for a number of them have been here years, and they have what they call the "Taos Society of Artists", and they hang together, and exhibit all over the country, that is, the west probably. I have begun to paint now, and have several good pastels finished, and two large still-lifes on the way that I am doing in The hallway at Mabel S's; I shall have enough by fall to send on a decent number, and I want to get them placed so that if possible I can get an immediate return for them. I am asking Mrs. C. to co-operate with me in this, and I know she will do what she can; I am going to ask her also to buy one herself, at so much a month, and then if she wants to put it out on the market again, she can do so, just so that I can get some cash in sight. I am beside myself at times with the uncertainty of life, and it is not good for me.

[7-20-18/2]

2

in the condition of nerves that I have to cope with; I do all I can to keep peaceful, but it always stands before me like a noose, and I cannot work as I should; I know it is foolish, but it is the nature of the beast-I need always a time ahead of myself to expand in, and I have not that assurance as yet; The work that I am doing is I think quite interesting in that it shows, and of course naturally, the result of so long speculating with abstractions. It has a firmness which I did not have before, and I know the work to come, will have still more.

I was talking to Mrs. C on my fence this morning, and she tells me that the museum people in Santa Fe, are particularly kind to artists who come there, and that they will give me a studio for nothing in the building. That at least sounds promising, for I shall need a place in which to work up pictures that I either begin outside or start inside. Distances are too great to do things out of door complete, and after I have gotten my eye soaked with the colour and form of the place, I expect things will move on all right. I like the country very well, for it is big and clean and true, and there is nothing dirty standing between one and the sunlight, as there is in the east. My poetic pieces came out in Poetry for July, and they look very well; Leo was quite enthused over one of them, which for him is a great deal, the one they call "Spinsters", and Mabel was most enthusiastic, as you might imagine; I recieved this week a letter from a group of poets in Los Angeles who said they had read them, and the writer said that she liked my poems "almost more then anybody's" as she put it; All this is of course pleasant. I was asked by poetry to send in some more of my poems from Here, so that is something again. All I want is leeway, Stieglitz, and I have never in my life been so depleted of energies as I am now; I have never wanted earnestly to give up things as I have now, and that is going far, but I have got to save myself, and I think the west will do it, for I like it, and am getting into touch with it all the time;

I wish if you could see any way of getting me fifty dollars extra so that I could feel free to take a little trip now and then, for I cannot even hire myself a buggy for the afternoon, without feeling that it is an extreme extravagance, and then too, I need a lot of colors on hand, for already it is getting hard to get them. Just the bare expenses costs me fifty a month, leaving absolutely nothing for any extra that comes up; If I were able to ride, I could ride with Mrs. C. as she has her two horses every day, and she has offered me one of them to go riding with here now and then, but I shall have to practice a little first before doing things like that, as I do not want to start up the old troubles again. Anyhow, all I can do is hope, and go on half with faith, and half with blindness, and often it is more blindness than faith.

But I have settled in my mind about Santa Fe, and that will be September or October, for I want to get started on the kind of country that I came to see, and it is all down that way; I have just learned that it is considerably lower than here, and that too may make a difference in bodily comfort, for it really is a little trying here. I do hope I shall hear from you immediately with the cash for deposit, as that will make things go along a little more restfully. I hope that all is going with you at least not too dreadfully during the summer months; I cannot seem to think where you are, or where you are

3

[7-20-18]

going to be, and what you had planned to do, though I suppose you hadn't really planned on doing anything more than escape the tedium of things generally; I wish you were out here, for you would almost get a rest, for that at least is what there is here, rest for the tired brain and weary soul, even; At first I did not sleep well, but now I am doing better than I have done for two years, and that is saying quite something. What is happening with O'K, and did she go back to Canyon. I suppose of course she did, and I know she would be better off there than in the east, for I have come to conclude that the east is a truly bad place, as far as wicked intentions go; It really wants to do things to one, and here in the west there is so much space alone, that there is room for a lot of the world, and more space to go in. Do let me hear from you very soon, not only because I want something, but because I do want to hear at least something of you. I have felt here at times just like I did when I was in Europe, and no word came from you; It seemed as if you had dropped out of things and I don't like the feeling of not hearing in so long. At least as friends we can do this much for each other; I have decided to encourage correspondence again, regardless of whomever it is, for I am very unhappy with the feeling that the world is being shot out from under us, and that we shall finally be standing or sitting alone like the druids of Stonehenge, with nothing but air around us and a dark sky; I wrote to Paul Strand also, asking what had become of you, so please do not be annoyed if you find yourself being hunted up by your friends, though I can well imagine that by this time you must be worn out with the lot of us. And yet, what is there to hang to, at least for me, except someone or two or several that I can say an intimate word or two now and then. It is a great pleasure to me to be on good ground again with Mabel S. without having made any allusions to the matter of old. I find her changed quite some, more balanced in general I think, and doubtless she finds me improved, for there is a something much better than it used to be, and there is much less expected I think too, certainly on my part, for I have gone by a deal of that sort of thing. Maurice goes to New York on the first of August to remain for some time, to do some work, and as he says, make some money; He does not care for it nearly so much as Mabel does, though he is doing some very interesting pieces of sculpture in black wax, to be cast in Bronze later. I really think him more sculptor than painter, and in a great many ways, excellent in artistry of a very respectable order. At least he is the only real artist of the crowd that is living here. Very best wishes to you, and I hope things are going all right, or at least as all right as possible under conditions.

Devotedly as always,

Marsden H.

Taos, New Mexico-Box 56.

[Aug. 1, 1918]

My dear Stieglitz:-

How good it is to have word from you at last, not
merely for pecuniary reasons, which Bod knows are deathly imperative these
days, but it is worth a deal to at least hear you say something even if
it is not as cheerful as I should like to hear of you. I have realized
all this time that it could not be going so marvellously with you.
Perhaps there will be an end to it all one day soon, and I say soon for
your own sake, for after all you must surely be tired by now of devotion
to things and people which are so ungrateful. I only hope that the
few friends who are left, the few real ones among the numbers who thought
themselves so devoted, and who were so long as they received something,
will be some solace to you; For there is a little comfort I think
in knowing that here or there, there are one or two who have not changed,
who have remained true to certain ideals, and ideas of beauty.
I have had some very miserable weeks since I came out here, for I am only
just getting imbued with the largeness of this place, and I have suffered
so from the uncertainties, until it has seemed at times as if it really
must stop. But it has always been so in my life, and that is the
only thing that gets me over the last stages of boredom and despair.
There is something of a turn for the better now, in that I have finally had
talked on certain matters with the lady here, and there has been a definite
proposition made, which if it works out will get me through another year
with safety; I am doing large pastels these days, to get my hand
in, copying nature as faithfully as possible, and they are turning out well
having all that I used to have, plus a certain something that has come to
me out of the six years devotion to abstraction, the which is what I knew
would happen once I could get at it again. I shall go on copying
nature indefinitely, for I find that is the only thing to do;
So fortunately one evening last week while we were walking in the moon-
light, the subject turned on such things, and I saw my opportunity to go on
and talk about what I had really intended to write, as it has been so long
since I had seen her alone. She was very easy and natural, and I knew
she would be; She asked me how much I intended to ask for the
pastels, and I said $200- was what I had fixed on them in my mind, and she
said she would take one, by paying it off monthly beginning the first of
October, and that she would try and sell me four or five more during the
winter, and since she had done well for Sterner last winter, it would be
easier to do this for me, as the price was much less; Of course
she could not guarantee, but still there is the chance, and it gave me a
real boost in my feelings, and a touch of certainty I have not had for
months. So I am going to let her proceed in the way that she has
suggested, and see what happens, and from what I can feel, it ought to
happen all right. She is going to press several waelthy individuals
and then she is to go and talk to Montross, and see to it that he takes
a number of them and show them in a group when he gives a good group show
also make Mrs. Sterner show some, and Kingore is to have two or three, and
she will look out for the business end of it for me, that is, will keep me
posted as to what is happening; I really do think it will be done,
and if it happens, she will be on one of those wonder women who really
do what they start out to do. I really feel that she will do
it, for she has talked so well about these things to me, and I know she will
not give up, not out of boredom at least. I told her frankly how
I had lost a thousand dollars in cash and pictures through the war, and
that all those pictures lie dead in storage which I shall probably never
be able to realize on; I even think at times it would be better to

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2

paint over them, as it may come to pass that canvas will be impossible to get. However, that is the new project, the new opening and the new possibility. With what I must have coming to me on hand, this will pay the bare expenses over the first of the year, and by that time something must happen. I am determined to get into things some way and do something for myself, so that if I can open up something, it will at least take a too long burden off you, and leave me with a better feeling about this friendship of ours that has been so fine all this time. I know too that you are glad to do all you can still, but I know also that you understand how I feel about it too. And if there is a chance of my being a saleable proposition, and I do not for the life of me see why not, then I can at least release the tension somewhat, and get my life going in a decent way which is what I earnestly want to do, and must do if I am going to go on creating. This is at least a start toward something more or less hopeful, and at least the question of getting back what it cost to get out here is settled. That can be turned back into living again, and the rest will be gain. I must get at least another full year in front of me, with a leeway for extra expenses, for I want to really get at the bigness and the dignity of this country, and the only way it can be done is by having enough to take these little trips that are so necessary to get to subjects that are the most typical and the most inspiring.
I have several that I am studying now which I shall do on a large scale, which are too beautiful in nature, and so impressive that they will make superb canvases of good size. These are fourteen miles from here in the Arroyo Hondo, which is a perfectly wonderful little canyon, full of classical grandeur, giving one the feeling of a fine Claude Lorraine as far as form is concerned. And the rest of the feeling in them is Courbet, so you can well imagine what the dignity of them is. I shall remain on until late fall, maybe December first if the mountains get as thrilling as I suspect of them, and what the people say of them is true. It will not be but a few weeks now and the snow will return to the tops of them, and the foliage around the tops turns a fiery red and a brilliant yellow they say, and all the valley turns to a warm gold, so that I shall welcome the relief from the green monotone with avidity, though on the plains it is incessantly beautiful for it is made up entirely of sagebrush, which is a silver emerald green shaded through with blue, and looks so like a fine silk tapestry shot through with cloud shadows and long lines of gold and violet light. It is a huge and magnificent country, and we are only on the edge of it here. I shall want to go and settle in Santa Fe after that for the winter and spring for it is down that way that the country is most typical, and as it is on the main line, it is easy to go down a few miles now and then and stay a day or two to get those really remarkable chocolate mesas with the flat tops, and the rich red earth around them, with wide areas of blue sky hanging above them at all times. I am getting back to my old richness of colour again, and when you get to see the pastels, you will see this in them. All I need is to get warmed up to life again, and I feel it coming on, at least all I ask is that life let me feel a real warmth about it. I want to give up all worthless intellectual and philosophical deductions, and get into the flow of things again. I am just at my ripest as far as indications go, and I want to get the full harvest out of myself, and that is the only way it can be done. I have had three solid years of introspection, esthetic and well as spiritual, and I have felt the need of shuffling all that off from my system and beginning again with a new influx of sensibility. I want the powers to help me and the only way will is to make them. I have got to believe myself into a state of richness and fruition, and so it will be done, for that is the only way it

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can be done. I want the bigness and the sense of giving of this big
country in my system, and it is the one way to recreate myself. I
shall keep on the side of occasional shows of a few things for a time,
and then burst out with a real show of the southwest stuff when it is
done. I shall be writing Montross myself soon on the matter, and
shall ask him point blank to take me up in a business way, inasmuch as he
asked me several times last winter, if I thought I would be working at
landscapes and still-lifes again. I know what he meant, and so that
is what I shall call out of him now. I don't count on too much, but
I have got to get this particular obsession out of my system and so it
will be accomplished this way. I want a conventional representative
on Fifth Avenue. That may sound strange to you, but I think you will
understand the point. I want someone wanting my things, and I don't
care who? I know Daniel is not the person, I doubt very much if
Bourgeois is, and there are no others at present. I shall leave
it to the lady to see what she can open up in the way of avenues. She
can do a deal of effective talking, and that is worth a lot in such a time.
She says she can get me a studio in the Museum building in Santa Fe, where
they are very courteous to painters who want to work down in this
country. I shall let this take its course and see what comes
of it. I still want very much to pursue the Wanamaker idea in the
fall, and I hope that by then, you will be able to get connection with the
man you spoke of, for if that can be worked out, and there is no reason why
it cannot, for if it can work for one it can work for another, there can be
a something definite done with those glass pictures; I am not interested
enough in them to want to make a show of them up town, and I want
to get money out of them where it is likliest, and that is absolutely the
place for them, and it is the time to get it while that spirit is on, that
is to say, while the victorian emotion is passing. However.
I think it would be best for me Stieglitz, if you will send me on the
balance I have on hand, which from what you said when I left must be $150-
or so, isn't it? It makes the day easier for me if I know that I can
get what I need when I need it, and you may be well sure that I am taking
care to spend nothing that I do not need. I have nothing here but my
three a day and a place to sleep, but when I have to give up $6.00 for
expressage on typewriter and materials to come from the railroad, you can
well see where the drainage is. I had to send yesterday for 10-
worth of pastel material, as I do not want to get caught without the colours
I need, for I have used up several of the most important ones here, so you
can well see how it goes. There is never any other profit in this
game than a spiritual profit, for one has always to put back into it what
one gets from it, and there is no surplus for the joy of life.
Also, will you order for me at the Japan Paper Co., 100 sheets of the paper
such as you sent me lately, of which I enclose sample. With the
way things are going in all lines, I do not want to get caught without
paper, for that would ruin my prospects entirely in what I am doing now.
I find it to be an almost perfect pastel paper, and it is most pleasant to
work on, the only objection being that it is a little too narrow for a
good piece of sky. Will you ask them if they can supply it in larger
sizes; I have a feeling that you may get it at a trade discount
so that is why I ask you to order it. If you will be so kind, as to
order this at once, I shall be very grateful, as I shall be going up in the
Arroyo Hondo shortly for a week at a time to camp with a prospecter-pal
here, and he has asked me to come and stay as long as I want to, so that I
can be near some of the best material around this country. Also, if
when you are in New York again, you will go into Gimbel's art Dept. and see
what they will supply you a large set of pastels for, not smaller than two

4

trays

### of two rows each, of Girault's french pastels, and if not too high, to get me one; It is well to buy up all the materials that are to be needed, for there may come a time when nothing can be gotten, and without colour, I would be lost. I am sending around to a number of dealers in Chicago and New York, to find out what they can supply me in the things I need, to get an idea of what there is on hand. This will be a real investment at this time.

I told you that Waldo and Mrs. Frank bought a picture for $125-, to be paid also in installment, they having given me $50- before they left, at their own suggestion, knowing that I was needing a letter from you so badly.

I would like if possible to keep the balance of that as an extra, so that when it comes later on, I could count on it as an extra to do bits of excursioning with.

I shall want sooner or later also to get to San Francisco, for I want to go through all the way so long as I am so near and it might be that I can arrange an exhibition there, for I find that can be done, and is what is entirely possible.

I have intimate friends there, who might be able to help me toward some success, for they are well known in circles there.

Maybe a connection with Laurvik might get something going there.

I have thought of writing him. You see I am full of projects, but that is the only way I have lived the past months, by supplanting dead places with possible living suggestions.

Now I really must stop, for I must eat lunch, and I have written two long letters on the machine, which wears my nerves out so when I have done a great deal.

I now have five new essays which I am sending to the New Republic, to see if they will take me up again.

There is no reason why L.S. should have the entire space, especially since he does not need the income half as much as I do.

He is writing on other themes these days, so they will not be getting much from him in that line.

And after all, he has said it finally, on Rubens and Renoir! And that is all he has to get out of his system in that line.

M.S. has expressed him very well when she says he is a squirrel in a cage and must go round and round, that is his peculiar neurosis.

I think it very true, for after he has gone one way, he comes all the way around again, and says himself over again.

Maurice leaves for N.Y. at the end of the week to make some money as he says.

He goes to the Duncan School at Tarrytown to make drawings of the little dancing girls for some theme or other.

Mrs. C. remains until Sept. 15th, after which time she has offered me the use of the house she occupies, which she had to rent for six months.

I may accept, even though I am really better fixed in my own little place.

It is less trouble to take care of, and if I moved there I would have to have a woman come in at least once a week.

Best wishes Stieglitz!

I hope things will run smoother for you by fall; It almost seems to me as if they would have to settle themselves #then for you and for us all.

There is no real need of their going on that way for you, and I hope that things will go as they should, for what does not go right, might as well be stopped from going at all.

Do let me hear from you soon, and it would help me a great deal in my mind if you would send me the balance to put in the bank.

Also, please order the enclosed paper at once and oblige my needs greatly.

Devotedly always,

M.H.

Box 56, Taos-New Mexico.

My dear Stieglitz:-

Your so weighty letter has been with me for
several days now, and I haven't had chance to get at writing you before.
I was overcome with the specific enclosure of R's. letter. Really
some things are true aren't they? I was I may say speechless for
a spell, for I had about concluded he too was with the other speechless
ones. I am so pleased too that his parents have the same fine
feeling for me they always had. One never knows you know, and yet
I know they are too intelligent to hold against me what they my have
against my country. I do not know how I am going to meet the
indebtedness they have incurred in my behalf, and yet I suppose all
things will care for themselves. I lost a thousand marks before I
left or when I left you know on the pictures sold to people in Weimar.
That is to say, I didn't get them, for they were paying on monthly in-
stallments. I do not know if they will ever be able to pay, and
that was what I was counting on to pay my accounts there. I really
do not know. I wonder if I shall get there again or when? I
would surely like to go for I think it will be more interesting there
now than ever in a way, with all the hocus-pocus of militarism shaken.
Perhaps it will be a great republic. I shall write Ronnebeck
immediately now, and tell him the facts. I would not want them to go
on paying rentals for me, for I can't ever be certain of repaying them.
And my formre landlord was so nice to me too, that I would like to be
square all around. But my God, how is one to be a decent citizen
of the world without an income these days. The way things cost
in this country, it is simply staggering to get on in ever so simple a
way. When one has to pay $7.00 for excess baggage from Los
Angeles to here, including expressage necessary, well it is just like
giving it to the rats, that is all. Yes, I am very pleased I
got the connection with Wright there. It is the real first one I
have made in all the time I have known him. I like now what I
tought then to be American vulgarity. Probably because I encour-
age vvvvAmerican vulgarity in myself. I have found one thing is necessary, and that is to find some other sort of idealism than the one I
have tried to follow. I found it necessary to live by the intell-
ect than to attempt to live by anything so deceptive as spirit. One
must face the devil you know sooner or later, and the devil in the
world at this stage is the fiend called soul, which has so horribly
decieved us all. I have had a letter from Los A. this week say-
ing they are victorious in getting the museum for modern shows, and
won't I please come back and lend them my enthusiasts and powers. Well,
I would like to, but I have got to see what there is in the way of
substantial encouragement. I have learned one can't give every-
thing and get nothing. I like the coast, and there is a great
chance to put the thing over there. The time is now, for they
are ready, and they are eager and grasping as well. They want these
cultural phases most earnestly, but there must be something to live
on out of it. There is plenty of money and plenty of intell-
igence there, and it is a good field, as well as the most reasonable
place to live in I have found in this country, considering all. I
found the climate helped me considerably as well as the simplicity
and the very natural energies of the place. I shall have to
see how things go from now until spring. I must go to New York
in the fall for general reasons. One cannot live this western
life all the time, without something to sustain one, and it is all too

2

[2-7-19]

big to be alone in. I think there would be a place for me out
there, though just how I do not know. I suppose I would have to
make it, but I do not know if I could, or would be strong enough to
undergo the preliminaries of establishment. I want Europe for a
spell as soon as it is possible, for I have got to keep going where I
feel myself alive, or else perish. The American temper is not
exhilarating enough in art lines. And doing missionary work is
really too mush at this stage of the game. As I say, there is a lot
of real money there. I shall pull up threads when I am in New
York and see if I cannot establish for myself a better hold on things.
I am glad Daniel is being all right these days, and I am more than
interested to know that you and DeZayas are seeing each other again.
After all, why cannot things that begin so decently go on decently.
If they can begin well, they can continue and end well. It is only
logical. I should so like to have seen D's. Show, as the #{}#{}#
catalogue is so rich in names. Yes the paper came, and is here with
me now, so I am fairly well fixed for materials, and shall hope to do a
lot of work this summer, and certainly shall if I go on as I am feeling
now. It has been a hell's strain ever since I have been out here
to get my system to working as it ghoul. I have been dragged
through illimitable purgatories of distress in the alimentary regions.
But I think there is a slow though sure readjustment. I have less
pain, and fewer throwbacks, and am fairly all right so long as I have not
to worry or do not attempt any unusual physical problems. I
shall go down to a place called Buckman next week to begin on the
work I wanted to do last summer and last winter as well, but from which
I was prevented by health and lack of funds. The things that are
interesting to do around here are all out of the way and almost inaccess
able. There is only one solution, and that is the Ford, and that
will never come in my life, either to own or to hire. I have no wish
for porperty of any sort or obligation outside of myself and work. I
have settled that once and for all, and shall spend the rest of my life
with work and trivialities as an offset. There is no use taking
life seriously that is for me. I have given it up as a fact.
As an idea it still attracts and amuses, and that is the normal way to
take it from my thinking. I shudder at the mention of the name
soul these days, and find it more than I can endure to think of it for
myself. I must call it intellect if only to escape what has made
me suffer too much. Fortunately I have rid my mind of so much of
what I call excess baggage, that I am free as far as that goes. I
only wish I had a side line for self support so that I would have
something like peace for myself and for even you who have done so much.
However, I do hope your problems will release themselves and you too
will be as free as I feel in these respects. It is the right of
any man. If I had strength I should spend the rest of my life in
the wildest of living for there is nothing else to do with strength. As
it is nature seems to have a way of making us pay for the game. For-
tunately a certain amount of intelligence has given me a place somewhere
and more or less of a hold on myself, so that I know fairly well what
I am made for and what I want to do. I want the rest of the time
to be productive both of intelligent understanding and intelligent
production. I shall write again before so long. Give my
best to O'K. and I hope she is both happy and well. Inteligent she
certainly is, and like the rest of us she has paid high prices for our
simple share in things.

Devotedly as always,

M.H.

Lake George

October 27-23

Dear Hartley:

I hope that the rushed off letter I mailed to you yesterday
will not be misunderstood. I believe that a fifteen year's friend-
ship has entitled me to resent what I call a great injustice. Last
night--near midnight--after a terrific day's work both on O'Keeffe's
part and my part--as we were warming ourselves at the kitchen stove
I read your letter to Georgia. I had read it in the evening. I en-
joyed the re-reading and she enjoying the hearing. Enjoyed your
feelings about Williams and his writings. I have never quite warmed
up to most of his writing but have always liked him when I met him.
It was good to hear about Lili Lehmann whom I heard in Berlin in 103
parts!-- An extraordinary person. Always ready to jump in and sing any
part. It was a standing joke--this was before America made her famous!
--that some night when Niemann (the great Wagnerian tenor) would call
off because of illness Lehmann would sing the tenor's role--Lohengrin
or Tannhäuser. I heard her sing two roles in one opera. The old days
of simplicity--So you met Norman Geddes. He and his wife were twice
to my first show two years ago and he was very excited about the photo-
graphs. At the time I didn't know who he was. I'm rather stupid
about knowing people or who they are. All I know is what I feel in
meeting some one. What they "do" is unimportant. What their ambi-
tions of no importance. Poor old Germany. Well, I think I have a
pretty fair picture of what people actually are. I have gone through
a great deal even this summer. That's why "Clouds" (really the Sun)
and I became fast friends. And in spite of merely being a photographer
I think I have gotten some things down I haven't seen any one else do.--

2

After reading your letter to Georgia she asked me to read her the Biographical Notes. I read them. When through she said: "Why that's the most incredible thing I've ever heard. That part relating to you. It's all so wrong. So unseen and unfelt". I hardly believed my ears myself. All so contrary to my spirit--to "291" and all it was and is--for to me it still exists-- Ye gods, Hartley, I'm beginning to feel I must be a lunatic. You have really made me feel that, in reading what you say about me in those Notes and your relationship to me, not a mention of 291--Not a mention of the real generous spirit of the place--a place the like of which never was nor never will be-- I know that.

For there will never be another quite such a fool as I happen to be born. It's a rare joke. And if I didn't have a keen sense of humor and one of values and a very good memory because of these, what you wrote would make me commit suicide. I'd be so ashamed. No wonder "291" could not exist. I gave all of myself and more. But I was the only one. And I certainly want no credit for it. But when I think of your record of fourteen years in connection with me--and that is "291"--when I have the Catalogues, Camera Work, your letters--and know how it is that you have been able to go about as I have not been able to do--nor wish to do--why the picture you have given of me in connection with you and "291" in the notes becomes a grimace.

You were given your original Show in "291" because of my reading Suffering--Spiritual anguish--in your face. And because I felt a supreme worthwhile struggle of a Soul. No other reason. And that is the reason why I have fought for you to this day and will continue to fight. "291" to me was a place where I could breathe freely--devoid of all commercial taint--not a business. I believed there could be a place where human beings could meet without all the dirty ugliness which the struggle for existence seems to bring out sooner or later in most ar-

3

tists. It was a laboratory--a place where I could study--and to
which I gave all I had--spiritually and otherwise.

It was there before you appeared that Alfy Maurer, the "reborn"
modern appeared on the scene. He appeared because of his conversion
from Whistlerianism to Matisseism--from grayness to color. And because
he had been the first Carnegie Gold Medallist in Pittsburg--a great
hope of America. Matisse's Show had taken place a year earlier (1908)
in 291 and was the first blow for "Modernity" in America. And anti-
Whistlerian. And Steichen had sent the Show over-the "European Voice
of 291"--And he had sent Marin and Maurer. For me to see and live with.
I was studying the"significance" of photography. And had been for 25
years before--and have been ever since. And let me tell you right here
that when you use the term photographic it is not at all what I call
photographic. I know that you have not gone into the thought of that
except in a very superficial way. Your attitude is towards photo-
graphy really not so far removed from the average man's attitude to-
wards the artist--in America.

I have let all this go for years because it is really immaterial
as far as you are concerned. I am interested in your own "Liberation".
I frequently disagree with many of your conclusions and deductions. I
only see them as "Hartley's". And as such they are of interest and
value to me.

Then there was your show in 1909 after the "season" was over.I
tired and Mrs. Stieglitz insisting in dragging me to Europe half dead--
sick and in debt--certainly not because of my own needs. You must re-
member what the show meant to you at the time. It was not given be-
cause of "excitement" as you let the world imagine. "291" may have been
a place of excitements for you. There was certainly much excitement--
And as for animosity to you, Steichen was in Paris. He didn't see your

4

Show. The critics of the press have nothing to do with "291". The one who wanted me to throw you out of the window as an impostor was Max Weber a few months later. And together with Steichen--both impostors--devoid of all Art, all Integrity, all reverence. And I fought with him. And I told him I knew nothing about Art and that's why he was living at "291" and you were showing there and Steichen was there--although in Paris., etc., etc., Then there was the Cezanne water color show in 1911 and the Picasso right after it in January and Febr. And I remember what the Picasso Show did for you. How you sat there every day for hours, what you said to me and what you painted after seeing it. All this before 1912 and your going to Europe. Is there a single inkling of this in your Notes--.

Then you give the false idea that you had a particular privilege at 291, that the place was there for you whenever you were ready. Well it was there for you and others in whom I believed but not in the spirit in which you picture it in your "Notes".

But I won't go any further. It's all too degrading. I certainly don't want any credit for anything. But I hate misrepresentation. But I'm a photographer. And I'm grateful for it. But a photographer in a much deeper sense than you do Hartley realize.

You see it isn't the Notes I object to. I really don't care. But I feel that eventually I am driven by one after the other to finally give my picture of "291"--and that is really a very private matter. I know how you insist on your own privacy and I respect it. I do want to keep "291's". But if my own friends continue to give the world misshapen images of my relationships with 291 and the individuals I'll have to put down a very straightforward-- maybe a commonplace-- photograph of it all.

You have no idea how I hate to send you this. But even my patience

5

has its limitations--

I do admire fair play--
and I have to insist on
a little consideration of facts.

I am sorry to have to send this to you when my greatest
wish is to let you have your own imagination run free. But I must
"protect" 291. For many are trying to destroy it.

Stieglitz.

Lake George

Oct. 27-23

Dear Hartley:

You will be surprised to get a third letter in two days--if the
letters reach you at all. One today I sent registered. I am really
very sorry that I have had to send you those protests and in the tone
I was forced to use. I would have liked to have spared myself as well
as you. But don't you realise that if the picture of me as in the
Notes were sent out into the world Montross--Davies--Daniels--Hart-
pence--Demuth--Rosenfeld--in fact all those knowing our relationship
would immediately wonder what had happened between us as friends--
instead of constructive building there would be destruction--great
glee--"there is Hartley now"-- that's what they would say. For I must
tell you all these years I was told you would do just this and I de-
nied the possibility. Undoubtedly you'll wonder why all this fuss a-
bout so unimportant a matter. But it is far from unimportant in every
sense from every angle. In a way you have without knowing transfer-
ted your resentments because of the hurts at "291" to me--and in this
way they take form. I don't want you to say anything you don't feel.
But supposing I were to appear in print with statements about you that
were diametrically opposed to all fact and I would talk of you with a
gesture: Oh! yes there was Hartley, etc., As much as to say well en
passant I met him occasionally. I think you'd feel Stieglitz has gone
crazy or something to that effect.

The summer has been a very hard one. In a way I ought to eliminate
nearly every one from my existence. I seem primarily to exist for peo-
ple to get something for them--to be used for a purpose--I don't mind
being that but to be that primarily is not a very agreeable thought.
Where there is no equality of respect there can be no true relationship.
My brother is ill and this winter I'll have to prepare to move once
more. Even this Hill may have to go. There is no one helping me to

2

continu e my struggle for self-realization and without wishing to be
at all immodent I do feel that what I am doing is quite as "important"
as what you are doing. If I didn't believe that I couldn't be the
fighter for others that I am. It's because I know the gigantic struggle
myself that my heart and all the rest of me go out to those struggling
in your spirit. I fear you never saw "291" as nor ever saw me. But
that as I say is of no great consequence. I saw you--and see you--
and that is of consequence to you and to me.

The Boston Museum wants some of my prints. I wasn't interested
but Coomeraswamy begged me to break into the ultra conservatism of
that institution. He put up the fight with the Trustees, and I shall
let them have prints on condition that they be shown publicly at
least once every five years in perpetuity. The terms were accepted
I have had all sorts of requests but have turned down all others. It
takes me too long to make prints satisfying me. I am about to be 60.
And I am beginning to feel I must look out for myself. a little more.
No one fights my fight. I ask no one to fight it--O'Keeffe stands by
me and she knows what is happening and what has happened. I am sorry
that I won't be in town to attend to the trunk of yours Ronnebeck is
bringing over. As for your pictures I will let Of take care of that
and have the bill made out to you. I can no longer assume money res-
ponsibilities for any of the men. For all these years all your bills
and Mariah's and others were in my name. I can't any more. You are
all much better off materially than I am all things considered. You
are not at home in finances but I am telling you what you may under-
stand. We intend to remain up here until December 1st. We are hard
at work. I hope Italy is giving you what you had hoped for.

Our greetings--

Stieglitz

The Boston Museum order I have for over six months but haven't been
able to get at it because other things meant so much more to me and be-
cause of the more than trying summer.

I wonder did I write you that on her way back from Maine Georgia
spent about an hour and a half in Boston with Desmond Fitzgerald. She
had a most entertaining seance. He is quite upset at Marin's reputa-
tion. Spoke of me as a crank. Georgia asked him whether he had seen
your "Adventures in the Arts" with the essay on MacKnight. He hadn't.
He asked "who is Hartley". Of course he is a doddering old man. I
wonder what he has done with your picture. I'd like to see it.

Once, more Greetings.

S.

You don't seem to
know that Anderson and
Tennessee are no longer
together. Anderson is a
very wonderful human being.
Growing very fast. I do
hope your plans for the
future will work out.
It would be fine to
live in the South of France.

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