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A smidgen of snuff, a mug of muscatel, and a hundred-dollar bill in her apron pocket. That's all it took to keep Clementine Hunter happy. Except maybe black curly wigs and a cigar box full of dangling earrings.
Her complex story -- one of manipulations, murders,
moonshine, and murals; of sex and segregation; of avarice and ambition -- is set in and around Melrose Plantation,
down Cane River from historic Natchitoches.
She worked as a farm laborer much of her life. Finally, she was assigned to the Big House, where she cooked for and
waited on visiting writers and artists, some of whom became her mentors.
Having displayed an artistic ability in her work at Melrose with quilts, dolls, and
lace-making, Clementine began to use oil paints discarded by a New Orleans artist to paint on any available surface -- old window shades, discarded cardboard, abandoned
wooden boards, and her empty snuff jars.
She painted what she said "the Lord puts in my head" -- scenes of a vanishing African-American way of life on the Cane River plantations.
Without the help and encouragement of her white friends, Clementine's story would be as insignificant as those of most African-Americans who lived and died without the
world ever noticing. She could neither read nor write, but she produced over 5,000 paintings. Her friends helped her get a market, get publicity, and get famous.
Working late at night, for a long time with only a kerosene lamp, she "marked" her pictures with scenes "the Lord puts in my head," she said. Such was her schedule for
over 25 years while serving as maid, cook, and laundress for the Henry family at Melrose.
At first she hid her paintings for fear she would be accused of shirking her duties.
Gradually she started giving them away to friends who admired her work.
After Melrose was sold in 1970, she painted mostly during the day, stopping only when
her arthritis was too painful or she had other illnesses. But work she did. She cut her own fire wood until she was 90; she killed hogs and made hogshead cheese. This
rambunctious woman was painting until a few weeks before she died on January 1, 1988, at the age of 101.
Although she had many problems with her family, she maintained a strong matriarchal
position. She had a common-law husband, who was murdered in a cane field; a second husband, who became bedridden; five children and a foster child; grandchildren and
great-grandchildren. Her purpose in life was to support them all. Dollars from her paintings helped.
Clementine had a good "mother wit" about her. She loved pranks. She loved to have
fun and frequented the Cane River honky-tonks in her youth and in her senior years. She even had a boyfriend/drinking buddy hanging around. She bought used cars even though she couldn't drive.
In her old age, she claimed that picking cotton was the thing she enjoyed the most in her life.
A "character" she was. But nobody's fool.
Mil Edison's biography of Clementine defines this "character" in details that are heartwarming, sometimes heartbreaking, and frequently humorous. Read "The Fire" to
discover the charm of Clementine. |
