Flying Machines (4576: Vogel) (double-sided)c. 192017 x 17 1/2 "
Frame Dimension: 29 x 26 7/8 x 2 "Ink, watercolor, pencil, and collage on paperBlanchard-Hill Collection, gift of M. Anne Hill and Edward V. Blanchard, Jr.1998.10.16B01551794628Charles A. A. DellschauDrawingsThe American Folk Art Museum believes this work to be in the public domain.HoustonHoustonUnited StatesTexasWorks on PaperGavin AshworthHoustonThe oeuvre of Charles Dellschau (born in 1830 in Prussia) proves witness to the profound break caused by the arrival of modernity at the beginning of the twentieth century, sealed by the consequences of the First World War. His earliest drawings and collages reflect the technological progress at the end of the nineteenth century: balloons and airplanes filling the sky—an expression of man’s desire to master heaven and earth. Dellschau, a retired butcher, closely followed various early aeronautical adventures, thanks to his subscriptions to several magazines and newspapers of the time (Scientific American, the Houston Daily Post, the Houston Chronicle, the Houston Press). From 1899 to 1922, he described and drew the story of a secret club of aeronauts (the Sonora Aero Club) that would have existed in California between 1850 and 1860. Dellschau claimed that he and other members of the club built, flew, and then dismantled at least two flying machines. In accordance with the club’s rule of secrecy, Dellschau showed the drawings to no one outside his family. Flying Machine 4575, an ink drawing on a penciled grid, is what Dellschau termed a “Broad Cutt”—a cross section that reveals the mechanics of the vessel. Dellschau’s faith in technological progress was lost with the onset of the war, which saw the invention of both aerial and gas warfare. The photos and articles Dellschau glued onto his works possess real epic power; their narrative force is heightened by the interweaving of world history—clippings about memorable events, mostly aeronautical exploits or disasters—and Dellschau’s autofiction.
Valérie Rousseau, “Flying Machines (4575: Broad Cutt/4576: Vogel),” exhibition label for Self-Taught Genius: Treasures from the American Folk Art Museum. Stacy C. Hollander and Valérie Rousseau, curators. New York: American Folk Art Museum, 2014.WORK ON PAPER
Charles A.A. Dellschau’s aeronautic adventures may be inventions of his imagination with roots in reality. Chronicling the exploits of the Sonora Aero Club, purportedly active in California in the 1850s, Dellschau claimed that he and other members of the club built, flew, and then dismantled at least two flying machines. Although Dellschau did live in Sonora in the 1850s, no area newspapers report flying machines or any other activities of a Sonora Aero Club. Coincidentally, in 1849, Yankee artist and inventor Rufus Porter published his pamphlet AERIAL NAVIGATION—The Practicability of Traveling Pleasantly and Safely from New-York to California in Three Days. Porter’s early interest in human flight was achieved in 1852 when Henri Giffard made the first recorded powered and controlled flight from Paris to Trappes.
Dellschau was born in Prussia and arrived in Galveston, Texas, in 1849. He briefly joined the Gold Rush in California before returning to Texas and settling in Houston. After retirement he spent most of his time drawing, completing nearly one each day between 1908 and 1921. He usually bound the drawings, often doublesided, in large notebooks. On the exterior view is the word Vogel, which means "bird" in German
Stacy C. Hollander, "Flying Machine 4575: Broad Cutt/Exterior (doublesided)," exhibition label for Jubilation|Rumination: Life, Real and Imagined. Stacy C. Hollander, curator. New York: American Folk Art Museum, 2012.In 1709, a Portuguese Jesuit wrote a "Short Manifesto for those who are unaware that it is possible to sail through the element air." Life once rested on the four elements of earth, fire, water, and air. Maintaining balance among them was critical to health of body and mind; controlling an element was alchemy. The most insubstantial of these elements was air, unseen until the wind trembled leaves on a tree, or was felt as a breeze against the skin. Riding air, like a bird, was a dream that was explored generation after generation.
Charles Dellschau had such dreams of flight. A Prussian immigrant, he arrived in Galveston, Texas, in 1849, the year a French balloonist made the first flight over the Alps, and the Yankee polymath Rufus Porter published his pamphlet AERIAL NAVIGATION—The Practicability of Traveling Pleasantly and Safely from New-York to California in Three Days." Dellschau’s own occupation was the decidedly earthbound trade of butchering, but his soul yearned to soar. During the 1850s, Dellschau joined the throngs of hopefuls panning for gold in the west. He lived for a time in Sonora, California, where—at least in his own imagination—he became one of a league of extraordinary gentlemen, the Sonora Aero Club, dedicated to inventing, building, flying, and dismantling flying machines. From 1899 to 1922, Dellschau dedicated himself to chronicling the landmark innovations in flight that resulted from the work of this secret club, the lives of the inventors, their experiments, and other development in flight. In the model of such secret fraternal societies as the Freemasons, no one outside the members were privy to this work, and Dellschau conducted his documentation of pen, ink, and watercolor drawings—many double-sided, collages, and clippings from various sources—in absolute privacy outside his own family. These comprised three handwritten journals of "Recolections" [sic] and at least twelve extant volumes dating from 1908 to 1921 (after Dellschau retired), containing at least two thousand pages of heavily painted watercolor and ink drawings of "aeros" on heavy butcher paper. Each page of these bound volumes is numbered and contains a clipping from a daily newspaper—what Dellschau called a "press bloom," indicating there may have been about ten volumes that preceded those that survive. Many of the drawings are diagrammatic, offering explications of the mechanics of the flying machine, and further annotated with complex alphabetic codes. Often one side displays a cut-through view—what Dellschau termed a "Broad Cutt"—and the reverse contains an exterior rendering. This double-sided work shows Flying Machine 4575, with a clipping dated March 17, 1920, with the headline "Flyer saves life by daring exploit." The broad cut reveals two aeronauts operating the aero and the mechanical workings of the flying machine. On the reverse, exterior view, an aeronaut peeps through a window of the colorfully striped aero. The aero is titled Vogel, which means "bird" in German, is numbered 4576, includes the words "Maybe So," and the date of March 16, 1920, clipped from a newspaper.
Stacy C. Hollander, "Flying Machines (4575: Broad Cutt/ 4576: Vogel), c. 1920 (double-sided)," exhibition copy for American Perspectives: Stories from the American Folk Art Museum Collection. Stacy C. Hollander, curator. New York: American Folk Art Museum, 2020.Object information is a work in progress and may be updated
with new research. Records are reviewed and revised, and the American Folk Art
Museum welcomes additional information.
To help improve this record, please email photoservices@folkartmuseum.org19151925 1998 10 16B The oeuvre of Charles Dellschau (born in 1830 in Prussia) proves witness to the profound break caused by the arrival of modernity at the beginning of the twentieth century, sealed by the consequences of the First World War. His earliest drawings and collages reflect the technological progress at the end of the nineteenth century: balloons and airplanes filling the sky—an expression of man’s desire to master heaven and earth. Dellschau, a retired butcher, closely followed various early aeronautical adventures, thanks to his subscriptions to several magazines and newspapers of the time (Scientific American, the Houston Daily Post, the Houston Chronicle, the Houston Press). From 1899 to 1922, he described and drew the story of a secret club of aeronauts (the Sonora Aero Club) that would have existed in California between 1850 and 1860. Dellschau claimed that he and other members of the club built, flew, and then dismantled at least two flying machines. In accordance with the club’s rule of secrecy, Dellschau showed the drawings to no one outside his family. Flying Machine 4575, an ink drawing on a penciled grid, is what Dellschau termed a “Broad Cutt”—a cross section that reveals the mechanics of the vessel. Dellschau’s faith in technological progress was lost with the onset of the war, which saw the invention of both aerial and gas warfare. The photos and articles Dellschau glued onto his works possess real epic power; their narrative force is heightened by the interweaving of world history—clippings about memorable events, mostly aeronautical exploits or disasters—and Dellschau’s autofiction.
Valérie Rousseau, “Flying Machines (4575: Broad Cutt/4576: Vogel),” exhibition label for Self-Taught Genius: Treasures from the American Folk Art Museum. Stacy C. Hollander and Valérie Rousseau, curators. New York: American Folk Art Museum, 2014.WORK ON PAPER
Charles A.A. Dellschau’s aeronautic adventures may be inventions of his imagination with roots in reality. Chronicling the exploits of the Sonora Aero Club, purportedly active in California in the 1850s, Dellschau claimed that he and other members of the club built, flew, and then dismantled at least two flying machines. Although Dellschau did live in Sonora in the 1850s, no area newspapers report flying machines or any other activities of a Sonora Aero Club. Coincidentally, in 1849, Yankee artist and inventor Rufus Porter published his pamphlet AERIAL NAVIGATION—The Practicability of Traveling Pleasantly and Safely from New-York to California in Three Days. Porter’s early interest in human flight was achieved in 1852 when Henri Giffard made the first recorded powered and controlled flight from Paris to Trappes.
Dellschau was born in Prussia and arrived in Galveston, Texas, in 1849. He briefly joined the Gold Rush in California before returning to Texas and settling in Houston. After retirement he spent most of his time drawing, completing nearly one each day between 1908 and 1921. He usually bound the drawings, often doublesided, in large notebooks. On the exterior view is the word Vogel, which means "bird" in German
Stacy C. Hollander, "Flying Machine 4575: Broad Cutt/Exterior (doublesided)," exhibition label for Jubilation|Rumination: Life, Real and Imagined. Stacy C. Hollander, curator. New York: American Folk Art Museum, 2012.In 1709, a Portuguese Jesuit wrote a "Short Manifesto for those who are unaware that it is possible to sail through the element air." Life once rested on the four elements of earth, fire, water, and air. Maintaining balance among them was critical to health of body and mind; controlling an element was alchemy. The most insubstantial of these elements was air, unseen until the wind trembled leaves on a tree, or was felt as a breeze against the skin. Riding air, like a bird, was a dream that was explored generation after generation.
Charles Dellschau had such dreams of flight. A Prussian immigrant, he arrived in Galveston, Texas, in 1849, the year a French balloonist made the first flight over the Alps, and the Yankee polymath Rufus Porter published his pamphlet AERIAL NAVIGATION—The Practicability of Traveling Pleasantly and Safely from New-York to California in Three Days." Dellschau’s own occupation was the decidedly earthbound trade of butchering, but his soul yearned to soar. During the 1850s, Dellschau joined the throngs of hopefuls panning for gold in the west. He lived for a time in Sonora, California, where—at least in his own imagination—he became one of a league of extraordinary gentlemen, the Sonora Aero Club, dedicated to inventing, building, flying, and dismantling flying machines. From 1899 to 1922, Dellschau dedicated himself to chronicling the landmark innovations in flight that resulted from the work of this secret club, the lives of the inventors, their experiments, and other development in flight. In the model of such secret fraternal societies as the Freemasons, no one outside the members were privy to this work, and Dellschau conducted his documentation of pen, ink, and watercolor drawings—many double-sided, collages, and clippings from various sources—in absolute privacy outside his own family. These comprised three handwritten journals of "Recolections" [sic] and at least twelve extant volumes dating from 1908 to 1921 (after Dellschau retired), containing at least two thousand pages of heavily painted watercolor and ink drawings of "aeros" on heavy butcher paper. Each page of these bound volumes is numbered and contains a clipping from a daily newspaper—what Dellschau called a "press bloom," indicating there may have been about ten volumes that preceded those that survive. Many of the drawings are diagrammatic, offering explications of the mechanics of the flying machine, and further annotated with complex alphabetic codes. Often one side displays a cut-through view—what Dellschau termed a "Broad Cutt"—and the reverse contains an exterior rendering. This double-sided work shows Flying Machine 4575, with a clipping dated March 17, 1920, with the headline "Flyer saves life by daring exploit." The broad cut reveals two aeronauts operating the aero and the mechanical workings of the flying machine. On the reverse, exterior view, an aeronaut peeps through a window of the colorfully striped aero. The aero is titled Vogel, which means "bird" in German, is numbered 4576, includes the words "Maybe So," and the date of March 16, 1920, clipped from a newspaper.
Stacy C. Hollander, "Flying Machines (4575: Broad Cutt/ 4576: Vogel), c. 1920 (double-sided)," exhibition copy for American Perspectives: Stories from the American Folk Art Museum Collection. Stacy C. Hollander, curator. New York: American Folk Art Museum, 2020.Object information is a work in progress and may be updated
with new research. Records are reviewed and revised, and the American Folk Art
Museum welcomes additional information.
To help improve this record, please email photoservices@folkartmuseum.org