Who is the Woman in the Portrait?

Honoring an Heirloom

Hanging in our small, square, plain dining room is an original portrait of a middle-aged woman.  She’s not attractive, nor is she sharing an evocative expression like the Mona Lisa. It’s just a portrait of a woman I’ve never known. 

At 18 by 24 inches with its frame, it fills the wall next to the kitchen doorway. The ornate wood frame is frosted white with gold tones peeking through, a popular look in the 1950s, but too ugly and clunky for my taste. 

But it’s a painting I feel obligated to hang.

What’s Happening in this Artwork?

As a docent in training, I’m trying my best to appreciate her more.  We are taught techniques to facilitate “meaning making” between viewers and artwork, such as Visual Thinking Strategies (VTS) and Object-Based Learning. It begins with studying the object, and after spending a few minutes, asking the question: “What’s happening in this artwork?”

The New York Times has a series titled “10-Minute Challenge,” where on the first Monday of each month, readers are presented with a different piece of art and challenged to “look at one piece of art for 10 minutes, uninterrupted.”

I set my timer for 10 minutes and studied her. I looked at her face, her unrecognizable nose, the varied brush strokes, the blended colors. 

When the timer buzzed, I jotted down some notes.

• I see a profile of an unsmiling woman; her dark hair, streaked with gray, is swept up into a bun. 
• Her face is lightly made up with red lipstick, eye shadow, and blush. 
• Her skin seems soft and unwrinkled, though her sagging jowls age her. 
• She wears a simple black blouse underneath a cranberry-colored cardigan sweater or a housecoat. 
• She doesn’t seem to be a person of significance; there is no indication of who she might be.

And then we prod for more: “What do you see that makes you say that?”

• Her only adornment is the decorative pin in her bun; she wears no other jewelry.  
• The background is blank; there are no objects in the painting that give context to her life. 
• There is no indication on the painting or the frame as to who the subject is.

And the last question we are taught to ask? What more can you find?

• I find the distinctive signature of Orpha Klinker.

Orpha Mae Klinker | California Landscape Artist

Orpha Mae Klinker (American, 1891-1964) was an artist noted for her California landscapes and her portrait series of California Pioneers. Having studied under Anna Hills and Paul Lauritz, her style is reminiscent of the California Impressionists, but she was also a commercial illustrator, designing flags, insignias, and historical plates. 

She was well-known in the artists’ circles of California and Los Angeles, and served as president of the organization “Women Painters of the West.”

Who is this Woman in the Portrait?

Before this portrait hung in our home, it hung in my Mother-in-law’s home. 

Before that, her mother’s home. 

And before that, her mother, who happens to be the subject of this portrait.  

This is a portrait of my husband’s great-grandmother, Josie.  Josie was the daughter of a Confederate soldier who married the son of a Union soldier.  Born in 1867, she grew up in Virginia and moved to Kentucky after her husband’s death in 1910. She then relocated with her six adult children to the West, settling in Los Angeles by 1930. 

She must have lived quite well, as evidenced by her vacation home in the Salton Sea. Buried in my piles of family memorabilia is a magazine spread that featured her vacation home as an example of mid-century modern living.

Sadly, that home was also where she died in a horrific fire. Wheelchair bound and unable to escape, Josie died there in 1955. One of her daughters desperately tried to save her but was severely burned. For the rest of her life, her daughter wore a scarf on her arm to cover the scars. There was no official cause listed for the fire.

What’s the Family’s Connection to the Artist?

If I hadn’t known the subject of the painting, this portrait would never have found its way into our home after my mother-in-law died. In the words of my children, the subject’s great-great-grandchildren, “it’s creepy.” 

Knowing she is an ancestor of my children makes our relationship…complicated. I’m the self-designated family historian, so these unwanted pieces often find their way into my home. It felt wrong to hide her in a closet or stuff her in a storage box that would likely move from garage to garage before someone realized they had no idea who she was and just tossed her out. 

So, I hung her in my dining room to keep her connection to another generation alive. I’m the one who sees her daily, but I never see a familial resemblance to the family I know.  And one of my children will become her next keeper, much to their dismay, and they will know even less.

Three other Orpha Klinker paintings have been handed down in the family, all landscapes in the California Impressionist style (more on these in a follow-on post). And while it’s wonderful to be able to preserve this little collection of California history, I probably won’t ever really know why my husband’s great-grandmother was the subject of this portrait. 

• Josie wasn’t a “pioneer”, so an unlikely subject for a portrait
• The family lore that “they were friends” doesn’t seem to hold up.
  • Josie didn’t seem to live the same Bohemian lifestyle as the artist
  • My search on newspapers.com didn’t mention of any clubs, social circles, or societies where the two are mentioned together

What Happens Now?

Perhaps the family connection is simply that Josie was a fan of the artist. Maybe she, or another family member, commissioned Orpha to paint her portrait.  

I will likely never know the answer to the family’s connection to the artist. However, capturing her story as best I can is one small way I can honor this heirloom for future generations. You can read more about how to capture stories in family heirlooms here.

Whether or not they choose to hang her portrait is another story.

COMING UP NEXT

Genealogy of a Painting | Exploring the Artists Who Influenced Orpha Mae Klinker