The Tile Club: Camaraderie and American Plein-Air Painting The Tile Club | Page 28

Chase’s wife. A current breakdown of documented tiles
confirms the dramatic decline in their production by
this point: of the forty-seven datable tiles/plaques, 96
percent were done between 1878 and 1879.
As early as 1882, in an attempt to explain the
scarcity of tiles, Laffan claimed that most had been de-
stroyed when the warehouse in which they were stored
burned down. He then facetiously reported that “the
public and the press deplored for weeks the irreparable
loss of so priceless an accumulation of objects of art.” 84
In contrast, Smith considered the check that he antic-
ipated from the insurance company to be a “dispensa-
tion of Providence!” 85 This is more likely just another of
the club’s fabricated stories, since the artists constantly
complained they had trouble paying studio rent, much
less paying storage space for tiles. More plausibly, the
production of tiles was modest, a fact they were embar-
rassed to acknowledge.
Although the focus of the club had been diverted
from the painting of tiles, Laffan assured his readers
that the “spirit…remains the same.” 86 Indeed, the Tile
Club had evolved basically into a social organization,
with a certain cachet about town based, in part, on its
restrictive membership policy. As such, it still afforded
its members a forum for the discussion of art matters,
especially issues relating to plein-air painting stem-
ming from their summer sketching trips.
The Tilers’ last trip, another excursion to Long
Island, described in The Century Magazine article of
1882 was in fact, an amalgamation of two trips, one in
the summer of 1880 and another in the fall of 1881. 87
The account begins with the planning of what would
become the trip in 1880. It was reported that “one-half
of the members would be satisfied with nothing short
of an ocean voyage.” 88 However, many were too pressed
for funds, including O’Donovan, who intended to
22 THE TILE CLUB: Camaraderie and American Plein-Air Painting
“retire to a wind-swept beach” on Long Island and set
up quarters in the remains of a wrecked ship, The Two
Sisters. 89 He proceeded to tell the story of the schooner,
which lay just fifty miles by boat from New York City,
and of his plans to live in its hulk. Dielman and Shinn,
intrigued by the artistic prospects and piqued by the
romantic notion expressed interest in joining O’Don-
ovan, and gradually so did the others. Just how much
of the story that follows is true is unknown. There
was, indeed, a schooner named The Two Sisters (from
Greenport, Long Island) that was struck by the steam-
ship Massachusetts (from Providence, Rhode Island)
in the Long Island Sound between Captain’s Island
and Sands Point on July 17, 1877. 90 Either its wreck
was their true destination, or the fact of its existence
became the basis for elaboration. In either case, the
1880 trip was likely made to this general area on Long
Island’s north shore. The trip was scheduled for June, at
which point those planning to go met at West Tenth
Street to board the P.B. Casket, property of T.J. Coffin,
Esq., names that appear to be puns improvised as an
element of ominous humor for what was to follow.
Those who showed up for the 1880 excursion in-
cluded Laffan, Weir, Smith, Quartley, Gifford, Diel-
man, Shinn, Sarony, Chase, Twachtman, O’Donovan,
Reinhart, Knauth, Kobbé, and Charles Green Bush,
a well-known illustrator and newly elected member
of the club. The list of supplies was abundant, rang-
ing from “a refrigerator nearly as big as a parlor in a
French flat” to “two coops of chickens.” Barely enough
room remained for the passengers, who fortunately
arrived in “light marching order.” 91 The journey did not
begin well; it was an unbearably hot day as O’Dono-
van guided the captain of the ship to the selected site.
Since there was no dock, the travelers were forced to
board small boats to reach the shore. O’Donovan, Diel-