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"Mr. Woodward will also exhibit 'An Autumn Song,' a scene of late fall."
The above quote is everything we know about this painting which is not helpful in determining its actual subject. However, figuratively "late
fall" tells us this is most likely a "November Painting." While it does not have its own gallery yet, one will becoming soon because we are just now
beginning to understand that the month itself is one of the artist's favorites in a deeply symbolic and poetic way.
In poetry November
represents "repose" like the musical term's meaning, ' the release of tension' or but also retirement. The moment between movements (to use
musical terminology). What is unique about November more than any other month is that it is not only the transition before winter but also to the
winter solstice when the waning daylight transitions and it is after the harvest and before the holidays. It is an "in between" state, a twilight if you
will or early evening. So it represents the calm of completion, the reticence and satisfaction that results. ★
See more below ★
Another important note on this painting is its name. Woodward did not use it often, but when you find a painting with the word "Song"
in its name. It is a tip-of-the-hat to artist James Abbott McNeill Whistler and 'how a painter [can] attempt to emulate the aesthetic qualities of music.'
Particularly, getting the harmonious notes of a scene to evoke a feeling rather than telling a story. Whistler, would name some of his work like a
composer would name a symphony. Woodward would also used the word "symphony" to convey a similar atmosphere. "Song", "Symphony", and
"November" are all connected to the same rhythmic and harmonizing aesthetic.
Woodward would also use the word "parade" to infer
marching or a march.
"The hills are very lovely, even in November. Say 'even in November' to Mr. Woodward, and he will expostulate. He loves November as it touches his hills, and thinks it is a much-abused month, for it brings many a scene which invites the artist's eye as forcefully by its very wistfulness, as does the frisky joy of the springtime, or the quiet peace of winter's snow-bound fields, or the hilarity of the gay-colored autumn... "