“American Great: Lee Krasner,” by Barbara Rose, was first published in the June 1972 issue of Vogue. For more of the best from Vogue’s archive, sign up for our Nostalgia newsletter here.
At the heart of the artistic revolution that made New York the art capital of the world in the late 1940s and early ’50s were Jackson Pollock and his wife, Lee Krasner—an intense, forceful woman with steady gray-blue eyes that reflected her carefully guarded independence. Their style of painting, Abstract Expressionism, with its revolutionary use of physical gesture, bold imagery, and rich surfaces, broke away from the prevailing European Cubist aesthetic. What Paris had been to American writing in the ’20s, New York suddenly became to American painting in the ’40s and ’50s. But unlike Zelda Fitzgerald and the wives of many other American men in the art and literary world between the wars, Lee Krasner was her own woman—an artist.
Although much curiosity and speculation surround the formidable personality of Lee Pollock, the widow of the great American painter, very little is known about Lee Krasner, the artist who fought the same battles, exhibited in the same galleries, and painted side by side with her famous, now legendary, husband. For me, as for many other critics, Lee Krasner is one of the significant painters of the twentieth century—an artist whose importance is only now beginning to be recognized.
Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in Springs, 1953. Photo: Getty Images
When I asked Lee Krasner why she was not one of the “Irascible Eighteen”—the now-famous group of New York School artists who signed a petition in the ’40s, sparking one of the most notable controversies ever stirred up about American painting, a petition protesting the near absence of American art at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York—she answered, “I wasn’t asked to sign. Barney Newman [the organizer of the protest, Barnett Newman, the outstanding American painter who died in 1970] called, and when I answered the phone, he asked for Jackson. He didn’t even bother to tell me about the protest.”
And so it went, until recently—when Lee Krasner the painter began to replace Mrs. Jackson Pollock as a public figure.
The Pollocks and their marriage were, and are, their own untold story. Despite his image as the macho he-man, Pollock treated Lee Krasner as an equal, a serious professional artist whose work he admired. In her home, Lee Krasner was at least as much painter and comrade-in-art as wife. It turns out that Pollock was, in fact, the only major American artist of the great ’40s to marry another avant-garde artist of his generation.
And Pollock, alone among the patriarchal Abstract Expressionists, explored the myths of female creativity, painting feminine archetypes (like “The She-Wolf” and “Pasiphaë”), totems, and symbols to balance the masculine principle. While his contemporaries mostly turned to Freud for inspiration, Pollock preferred Jungian subject matter—subject matter that gave equal if not greater emphasis to earth goddesses and the primal creativity of the feminine.
Pollock was not afraid of strong women, and Lee Krasner was one of the most courageous, outspoken, and tenacious women any man might have chosen. In many respects, her education was better than Pollock’s. A New Yorker who had studied at Cooper Union and the National Academy School of Fine Arts, she had discovered modern art as a young painter during the ’30s, while Pollock was still painting the American Scene in the manner of his teacher, Thomas Hart Benton—the Missouri painter who tried to make an epic subject of the prairies and fields of rural America but ended up with provincial versions of the old masters. Indeed, many have credited Lee Krasner with turning Pollock’s attention away from Benton and focusing it on the great modern masters. She is reticent on the subject. “When I first met Pollock, we disagreed on many things,” she admits. “But asAlthough I was struck by the revelation his paintings were to me, I still couldn’t believe he was discussing Benton so seriously. I can’t say whether I influenced Pollock’s views at all. I know Pollock influenced me enormously; I dare say I must have had some effect on him.” “Jackson Pollock and I were painters… Sometimes I cooked, sometimes he cooked” — Lee Krasner. As I spoke with Lee Krasner, I became increasingly aware of the enormous inner strength it must have taken to live her life as an abstract painter, given the obstacles she had to overcome to continue painting and to paint what she wanted. At first, she had joined the small number of American modernists who fought against academicism and the buckeye illustration of American Scene painting. Surviving the Depression, she struggled to find a style that went beyond the limits of European Cubism—a freer, more spontaneously emotional style that eventually became known as Abstract Expressionism. Whatever the odds against her—whether it was the hostility of fellow artists whose wives worked to support them, the indifference of museums, or later the tragedy of her husband’s death and the endless litigation over the estate—Lee Krasner kept painting. Depressed, sleepless, sometimes ill, she continued working. Recently, she has entered a new phase of prolific activity. Her studio is slowly filling with canvases of pure radiant color contrasted with large open areas of bright white. A floral image seems to dominate, but in many works, with their swirling circular motifs, a sense of physical rhythm and powerful energy links these works to her earliest paintings. “I have just given all the Pollock material to Eugene Thaw and Virginia Allen, who are preparing the definitive catalogue raisonné,” she said with obvious relief. “Now I can once again concentrate on being Lee Krasner the painter.” Lee Krasner’s life touches every moment of the formation and evolution of postwar American painting—youth in Bohemian Greenwich Village; classes with Hans Hofmann, who brought modern-art theories from Europe to New York; work as one of the few women in the art section of the W.P.A. (the government-supported Depression work project); marriage to Pollock; and finally, success as a painter in her own right. Today, Lee Krasner lives during the summer in the Long Island house she shared with Pollock in Springs, East Hampton, New York. During the winter, she paints in a studio in her large, light-filled apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. It was there in her living room, surrounded by plants, shells, rocks, and unusual art-nouveau pieces that have much in common with the circling organic forms of her paintings, that I spoke with her about her forty-year career as a woman artist and her experiences, bitter and sweet, as the wife of the man often considered America’s greatest painter. Rose: Was it hard to be a woman artist in the thirties, forties, and fifties? Krasner: I never got any very positive responses to my work. When I met Hans Hofmann, he said, “This is so good you would not know it was done by a woman”—meaning that was the highest compliment he could pay me. That attitude was always there; maybe it will be for a long time. It’s as old as Judeo-Christianity. In Western thought—not Eastern—the God image is a male concept, and there isn’t much room for the female. Those are facts not to be denied. I was aware of this way back, somewhere when I was studying at Cooper Union. But it didn’t hit me too hard until the recent women’s movement. Now there is an attempt to get a number of women on the scene. For me, it comes a little late. Q: Yet you have described Pollock’s attitude toward your work as very supportive. That he was willing to make provisions for your being an artist must have been important. A: I don’t know how I would have felt if he’d said, “I don’t want you to paint,” or acted it out in any way. The issue, of course, never arose, but it’s inconceivable to me that I would have stopped painting.If my husband hadn’t approved, I wouldn’t have painted. Living with Pollock was never calm—he was a turbulent man. But the question of whether I should paint never came up. I didn’t hide my paintings in a closet; they hung on the wall next to his. Since his death, being “Mrs. Jackson Pollock” has become a burden—an art-world burden, at least. It was never that way while he was alive.
Q: I was surprised to hear you say Pollock would wash dishes if needed. That goes against the stereotype of Pollock as the two-fisted all-American cowboy, invented by male critics and journalists.
A: Jackson always did the baking. If he wanted apple pie, he baked it. I didn’t know how to bake. I usually cooked, but he cooked too. He also did other household chores. Maybe if we’d had more money, we would have hired help. But we didn’t, so we did everything ourselves and shared the work.
Q: Is it strange to have witnessed The Triumph of American Painting (Irving Sandler’s title for his book on the New York School)—to have lived through the desperation and struggle, and finally seen victory and its rewards?
A: I think what happened is quite fantastic. How did it quickly turn into something so foreign? What happened? In the ’50s, there was still vitality and warmth in the art world—it was alive and meaningful. In the ’60s, I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t that long ago that Arshile Gorky didn’t have a gallery, de Kooning didn’t have a gallery. Who had galleries? Now overnight, young artists have whole museums. A mushroom can’t blow up that fast!
Q: You were among the first Americans to understand the greatness of Picasso, Matisse, and Mondrian while your contemporaries were still painting the American Scene. But you seemed to realize what was mainstream, what mattered, long before others…
A: Not before Gorky!
Q: How did you feel about the kind of art the Whitney Museum showed in the ’40s?
A: I felt it was pretty depressing. By definition, it’s the American Whitney. And I can’t be an American anything. Art is art no matter where it is. When it’s happening in Paris, you acknowledge that. The last argument I had on this subject was with Mr. Clement Greenberg about the phrase “American-type painting.” It offends me. The minute you send up a slogan, you can put anything in the bag and the slogan carries it. That’s boring and provincial in thought and concept, and the opposite of what I mean by art.
Q: Do you feel the same about the new feminist movement? Maybe trying to isolate “feminine” subject matter is as foolish as isolating “American-type” painting.
A: I don’t know what’s meant by “feminine” subject matter, any more than I understand “masculine” subject matter. I’m sympathetic to the women’s movement, but I could never support anything called “American” art.
Q: Aside from Mondrian, Picasso, and Matisse, who influenced you most?
A: Pollock, of course. After meeting Pollock, I gave up the model and still life. I began with a blank canvas and nothing in front of me. Trying to break up the Cubist grid, I started covering the canvas with paint until there was a pile-up of gray matter. This didn’t change until I began the Little Image paintings after we finished cleaning up the house in Springs in 1946. In Pollock, I felt a force that moved me as strongly as the impact of Matisse or Picasso.
In Pollock’s Springs studio with a guest, 1953. Photo: Getty Images
Q: When did you and Pollock move to Long Island?
A: In November 1945. We had visited East Hampton with some friends the previous summer. It was very beautiful, and we heard rents were cheap during the winter. I said, “Why don’t we rent the place on Eighth Street”—we were living then in a top floor that had a studio on either end and an apartment in between—”and take some canvas and books and try it out in the country for…”“Why not spend a winter there?” Jackson replied, “Are you crazy? Leave New York?” I figured I must be crazy. I had no idea where the thought came from. He was probably right—leaving the city was insane. But Jackson had a delayed reaction. Two or three weeks later, he said, “We’re going out there, buying a house, and giving up New York.” Then I thought he had lost his mind. Buy a house with what? We had forty dollars between us. In the end, we did buy the house I still live in now. The barn was originally right behind the house. We moved it so it wouldn’t block the view of the marshes, and it became Pollock’s studio.
Q: And where did you paint?
A: We arrived in Springs during a northeaster—what an entrance! The house was crammed with the belongings of the people who had lived there. It was a rough scene. The barn was packed solid with cast-iron farm tools. So we had to clean everything out before either of us could work. In the meantime, Jackson took one of the bedrooms to try to paint in. When we finally moved the barn and cleaned it out, Jackson started painting there and I worked in the bedroom. We were so busy for about two years tearing off wallpaper and burning the contents of the house that we didn’t have time for much else. I began making the mosaic table you like because I couldn’t work.
Q: Did you look at each other’s work and offer criticism?
A: Only by polite invitation to each other’s studios. I always accepted his invitations. Sometimes I had to invite him three times to come to mine, but he eventually did. I always admired what I saw in his studio; I never said, “Change that corner” or “Clip that edge.” The last time he came to my studio was just before I left for Europe in 1956. (It was my first trip to Europe.) I had just finished a painting called “Prophecy.” He said, “Fine. Leave it alone. Except for this,” and he pointed to a spot where I had scratched a form like an eye with the back of the brush in wet paint. He advised me to take it out. I thought it was fine and left it in.
Today, many more American women are choosing Lee Krasner’s lifestyle and commitments; but to pioneer took a special kind of courage. Just as her paintings are visionary statements that offer mysterious insights into an artist’s inner life, so too is Lee Krasner a visionary and a revolutionary personality as a woman.
In 1965, the first breakthrough of recognition for her work came in a retrospective organized by Bryan Robertson at London’s Whitechapel Gallery, one of the most influential public galleries in Europe, an exhibition widely praised in the English press. It remains, however, for America to acknowledge that Lee Krasner’s works share the same aesthetic, the same content, the same history, and are of the same quality as those of her male colleagues, the “first generation” New York painters.
Perhaps because these painters called themselves “heroic,” and because we as a people are slower to honor our heroines than our heroes, this recognition has been unnecessarily delayed. But throughout our history, we have had brave, self-reliant American women who struck out on unknown paths. Lee Krasner is one of them.
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of frequently asked questions about From the Archives Lee Krasner a Great American Artist
Who was Lee Krasner
Lee Krasner was a major American painter and a key figure in the Abstract Expressionist movement She was also married to the famous artist Jackson Pollock
What does From the Archives mean in this context
It refers to a collection of materials like letters photographs notebooks and early sketches that give a behindthescenes look at the artists life and creative process
Why is Lee Krasner considered a Great American Artist
She helped pioneer Abstract Expressionism a style that made the US a global center for modern art Her work was bold innovative and influential for generations of artists
What kind of art did she make
She is best known for large energetic abstract paintings But she also created collages charcoal drawings and even some figurative work early in her career
Did she get famous only because she was married to Jackson Pollock
No While her marriage to Pollock connected her to the art world her talent and contributions were significant on their own In fact she was a respected artist before she met him
What is Abstract Expressionism
Its an art movement from the 1940s and 1950s that focused on expressing emotion through abstract forms bold brushstrokes and largescale canvases
Why are archives important for understanding an artist like Krasner
Archives show how an artist thought worked and changed over time They reveal struggles breakthroughs and personal context that finished paintings alone cant show
What are some common problems when studying Krasners work
Her work was often overshadowed by her husbands fame Also some of her early pieces were lost or misattributed Plus the archive materials can be hard to access without visiting specific museums or libraries
What can I learn from her archives
You can see her creative processfrom quick sketches to finished paintings You also learn about her struggles as a woman artist in a maledominated field
Where can I find Lee Krasners archives
Major collections are at the PollockKrasner House and Study Center in New York and the Archives of American Art at the Smithsonian