The Art of the Franchise

_"The Artist and the Politician" by Jonathan Weinberg, in Art in America (Oct. 2000), 575 Broadway, New York, N.Y. 10012._

Editors in search of American art that depicts voting or political campaigning almost invariably turn to George Caleb Bingham’s The County Election (1851–52) or one of his other "election" paintings. While some critics have regarded these works as celebrations of democracy, others have viewed them as attacks. That the paintings lend themselves to both interpretations is an indication of the artist’s complex achievement, argues Weinberg, a painter and art historian.

Bingham (1811–79) had firsthand experience with the electoral process as a member of the Whig party who held various government positions in Missouri. Largely self-taught as a painter, he had established himself by 1835 as a portrait painter in that state before he was drawn into politics. He lived in Washington, D.C., from 1840 to 1844, where he painted portraits of several prominent politicians but "failed to get the major public commissions he longed for," Weinberg says. Fame came with his western genre scenes, beginning with Fur Traders Descending the Missouri (1845). He also began running for state office. Though he narrowly won a seat in the Missouri House of Representatives in 1846, the outcome was contested, and the Democratic-controlled legislature decided in favor of his opponent. In a letter to a close friend, Bingham vowed thenceforth to "keep out of the mire of politics forever." But he ran again in 1848 and won, then lost two years later.

Each of the six "election" paintings that Bingham executed between 1847 and 1854 was meant to stand on its own, Weinberg says. Country Politician (1849) and Canvassing for a Vote (1851–52) show a candidate in intimate conversation with a few voters; Stump Orator (1847), "now lost and known only through a daguerreotype," and Stump Speaking (1853–54) portray another aspect of electioneering; and The County Election and The Verdict of the People (1854–55) "shift attention from the politician to the process of voting." Art historians see signs of Bingham’s disillusion in the latter three paintings.

In The County Election, a man in red stands with his back to a raucous crowd and solemnly swears on the Bible that he has not previously voted in the election. In the foreground, a broadly smiling man "holds his glass up to be filled with hard cider—a favorite tool for attracting voters to a candidate’s side. Liquor seems to have completely overwhelmed another man, who is literally dragged to the polls to cast a ballot." Another, seemingly battered man sits on a bench, his condition perhaps indicating "physical coercion or a political argument that has taken a violent turn. The power of both money and chance is symbolized by the toss of a coin directly below the swearing-in [of the voter]." Front and center, two small boys play mumblety-peg—symbolizing, for one critic, the "trivial but rough game" of politics.

Yet The County Election’s "comic elements" do not undermine its "coherence and sense of calm," Weinberg maintains. The painting "incorporates the signs of corruption without allowing the voting, or the composition, to spin into disorder. [Bingham] seems to regard cheating as inherent to the process, no less than is the oath on the Bible. Yet these two contradictory aspects of the voting . . . do not undermine the validity of the process." For Bingham, Weinberg says, politics is a game— but "a game worth playing."