Is it possible to attribute an unsigned painting? Yes.
How? With a preponderance of evidence.

Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, private collection

Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, in frame, private collection

Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, verso, private collection

My answer: Most likely yes.

Here’s a peek at our correspondence (which I am showing with the owner’s permission.) Her enthusiasm is so infectious; it’s the perfect example of the excitement I feel—and fun I have—when someone contacts me about a painting they own. Some of you have bought paintings and may recognize this feeling.

How did your friend acquire it, do you know? Did he or she know anything about where it came from or who owned it? I bought mine from a dealer who knew nothing, which is common.

What did the Roadshow tell you about it, and…most important…did you get on camera?!
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Screen grab of Schrevogel painting on Antiques Roadshow, PBS, used without permission. PBS: please contact me if we can set something up–or tell me to take this down, I will oblige.

Owner of painting: This painting is oil on wood. It was given to me from a friend who didn’t tell me the story behind it, as she had Alzheimer’s. That’s why it took me so long to identify!! I was watching Antiques Roadshow on TV when I saw a painting of a Western artist, Charles Schrey (something)¹ and Googled it and it took me to you!! I almost jumped out of my skin!!! I saved the original nails to preserve this antique.

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Me: And I jumped out of my skin when I saw your photos and read your fabulous story.

I am pretty certain this painting is by Donatus Buongiorno for the following reasons: there are other versions of it which are signed; the method of paint application (especially in the background) is consistent with other (signed) paintings; I have another painting (of a completely different subject) on the same kind of board (instead of canvas), including its beveled edges; I have other paintings in the same kind of frame; in a 1919 passport application (see photo) for one of his many trips to Italy, Buongiorno stated that he “made his living by…painting…Italian…costumes,” perhaps documenting the disappearing 19th-century clothing of rustic people from Naples and his rural hometown, and this man’s image may be from that effort.

Excerpt of 1919 passport application of Donato Buongiorno, U.S. Dept. of State, used with permission

It also may be a good copy by someone else, maybe even a student under his direction. My non-paint evidence (style of frame, style of board that it’s painted on) doesn’t preclude Buongiorno’s involvement with those items on someone else’s behalf.

A mystery I can’t explain: Why my Donatus Buongiorno website (donatusbuongiorno.com) popped up in your search on Charles Schreyvogel, a painter of western U.S. horse scenes that look nothing like Donatus Buongiorno’s paintings of Neapolitan Italians. I don’t have unrelated keywords hidden in the site, I swear, and all I can see that the two painters’ works have in common are their 19th-century, academic (realistic) “looks” and funky, elaborate 19th-century gilded “compo”² frames—which these two artists also have in common with a couple thousand other 19th century painters. Thank heavens for the internet reading our minds and putting us together!

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Examples

Man Lighting Pipe, signed, collection of author

Man Lighting Pipe, signed, private collection, used with permission

Man Lighting Pipe, signed, private collection, used with permission

Man Lighting Pipe, signed, collection of California dealer, used with permission

There are four other versions of this painting extant (that I know of)—this model, in exactly the same pose with exactly the same clothing (though different colors)—which are all signed. I own the first painting shown, and the other three are here with permission from their owners. (The last one, by the way, is currently for sale on eBay from a very nice dealer in California.)

Could my inquirer’s painting be a fifth?

Man Lighting Pipe, signed, detail of edge of hat showing blue outline of under-drawing, collection of author

Man Lighting Pipe, signed, detail of edge of shoulder showing blue outline of under-drawing, collection of author

My painting has blue lines around some shapes (see two detail photos) which my conservator thinks were from a pattern Buongiorno traced onto the canvas, suggesting he had a master drawing from which he made multiple paintings.

3. Painting Style

Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, private collection

Painting with similar background to Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, collection of author

Painting with similar background to Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, collection of author

The paint application in my inquirer’s painting, especially in its background, is consistent with other, signed, paintings. See photos.

4. Materials

Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, verso, private collection

Verso of painting on same type of beveled, wooden board as Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, collection of author

I own another painting (of a different subject) which is painted on the same kind of board that my inquirer’s painting is on (though of larger dimensions), including beveled edges on the verso side, so Buongiorno may have had a source for these boards at one time.

5. Frame

Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, in frame, private collection

Painting in elaborate composition frame similar to Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, collection of author

Painting in elaborate composition frame similar to Man Lighting Pipe, unsigned, collection of author

The style of frame that my inquirer’s painting is in is consistent with other, signed, Buongiorno paintings. See photos of two I own. When I acquire a painting in a period frame (circa 1900), I assume it’s original, perhaps chosen by Buongiorno himself.

Why didn’t Donatus Buongiorno sign this painting?
He seems to have been a master self-promoter, even changing his name from Donato (Italian) to the more flamboyant Donatus (Latin)³, which he used in his art career, and presumably he had a sufficient ego to claim his product.

The lack of signature alone isn’t enough to definitively say he didn’t paint it, as there were two categories of painting that I know of which he did not sign: 1. His church mural commissions (because it was not the custom, family members were told), and 2. Duplicates. Yes! I have definitive family proof that he acknowledged making duplicates.

After their parents died, my grandfather and his brother (who were Buongiorno’s nephews) commissioned Buongiorno to paint each of them a set of portraits of their parents (from photographs.) The first set is signed, and the second set is not—being copies of the first. Buongiorno told them this was the conventional way to identify the “originals” as being different from the “copies.” (I assume this was a “rule” of the academic painting system, but I have never seen it documented. If anyone knows, please inform me.) This story was handed down to the family members who inherited the four paintings.

Who else might have painted this painting?
Buongiorno also taught, which may have included taking private students into his studio to apprentice one-to-one. It was common to have the student learn by copying paintings, including the master’s. It’s possible this “fifth” painting is a copy of one of Buongiorno’s four versions of it, and, for whatever reason, the student didn’t sign it.

What do you think? Is this painting by Donatus Buongiorno?

Postscript: The owner would part with this painting at a very reasonable price to a member of our family. If you are interested, contact me.

FOOTNOTES
1. Charles Schreyvogel.
2. Compo is short for “composition,” the plaster and glue material used to make the decorative floral sculptures on the fronts of those frames.
3. This was a trend among some late 19th century artists, apparently. I’ve never found an explanation for it. The most prominent example I know of is French painter Carolus-Duran, who was born Charles Auguste Émile Durand.

I found a painting by Donatus Buongiorno that I’ve been looking for for 10 years! See it here.

Does anyone want to help me with this fun family project? My next task is to find the help-wanted ad Domenic Troisi answered to get his job in Williamsport. Who wants in?!

Does anyone have easy, perhaps free, access to ProQuest or other paid-service online databases of scanned newspapers? (There’s another one called “Historic Newspapers,” or something obvious like that.)

I’ve checked all the freebies I can find online, and I have to go (all the way) into Manhattan to use ProQuest (and other databases) for free at the New York Public Library. (No complaints, at least they have the subscriptions at this library I adore, but there is that subway ride, and then I’m not on my own computer to save files and make screen grabs easily.)

Hint to academics and registered college students: you can often log on to your libraries’ accounts from home. Check it out and let me know….

What clues do we have?
As always, I start with Domenic’s memoir. He wrote:

Again I was out looking for a job when I read an ad in the “Help Wanted” pages of the New York World. This job was for a man to run a uniform factory in Williamsport, Pa. My experience with the shop in Jamestown qualified me for this new job. The ad specified the interview was to take place that day at 3 p.m. I pressed my suit, polished my shoes, had a shave and haircut and was ready to go. The address was a walk-up office building on Fifth Avenue not far from the New York Library (my second home). At 10:30 a.m. I thought, “Should I wait until 3 p.m. or should I go and see?” I became impatient (you guessed it, I went to see), had my interview with Mr. A. N. Bloom. He seemed to like me but he would not hire me. He said it wasn’t fair to the other applicants. I said I would be back at 3 p.m.

I left the office, bought a sandwich and a cup of coffee at a lunch wagon and retired to my second home—the Technical Room of the New York Public Library, studied a number of books on cutting and designing uniforms for Mail Carriers, and took notes on specifications and ratings for these government carriers. By three o’clock I went back to the office building I had been in the morning, but this time the staircase was full of applicants for the job. Some of the men in line appeared to be better qualified than I, big men older and wiser. I must have been about the 20th in line and the smallest in stature. When my turn came, Mr. Bloom said, “Young man you were here this morning!”

I said “Yes, Sir! However, I have something more to add. I will come to Williamsport only if you pay my fare, and after four weeks, if you find my work does not please you, I will pay my own fare back to New York City. But if I fill the bill to your satisfaction, you will give me a ten dollar weekly raise and keep me. I will do my very best for you.”

He said I would hear from him. Three days later I received a letter with a railroad ticket to Williamsport.

(An aside: Does Domenic’s proposition sound like “Heads you lose, tails I win” to anyone else but me?)

Photograph of Fifth Avenue between 40th and 41st streets looking north to 42nd on March 23, 1913, the time period Domenic interviewed for his Williamsport job perhaps in one of the office buildings on the right, then ate lunch at a street cart and visited the The New York Public Library which is on the left. He reports that he was dressed well for his interview, perhaps as well as these people who were promenading on Easter Sunday! Photograph courtesy of the Library of Congress Bain Collection, used with permission.

The hunt:
At the turn of the century, there were hundreds of daily newspapers in New York (not all in English.) They merged or went out of business as the decades progressed. The New York World, was infamous during its Pulitzer ownership, but even this substantial essay doesn’t say where its archives ended up or if it was ever digitized.

It’s possible Penn Garment also advertised the job in other papers: New York City dailies, trade or union newspapers, “immigrant language” newspapers that would have been read by garment workers—Italian and Yiddish, most likely.

And, of course, it’s worth checking the Grit (or whatever the local Williamsport papers were in the 1900s—cousin D.T., I’m looking at you) to see if they advertised the job in Williamsport.

What are we looking for?
Probably a display ad, probably small, with the following key words: Penn Garment Co. or Company, Williamsport, Pa., uniforms, maybe “mail carrier uniforms,” maybe Penn Garment’s address at the time, which was in the Weightman Block building, 754-770 West 4th Street, Williamsport; maybe Mr. A. N. Bloom’s name; maybe the name of the factory owner, Frank Plankenhorn, who was a big shot of Williamsport; probably the job title of a man who would “run a uniform factory”—manager? director? foreman? The ad might also say “cutter” or “pattern maker,” which were the advanced skills Domenic learned at the trade school.

What date?
Domenic doesn’t say, and I’ve never been able to nail down exactly when he moved to Williamsport. (Does anyone know for sure?) It was after he graduated from the trade school (February 1913) and after a stint in Jamestown, New York (perhaps the rest of 1913?), but before he volunteered for WWI service (1917, from Williamsport). So I guess 1914 or 1915.

Side project:
Domenic names two places he boarded in Williamsport during his first year there. Are there local censuses, or a city directory, that might list him in 1914 or 1915 (or even late-1913?), helping us nail down which year he arrived? Is there a local Williamsporter among my relatives who would be willing to take on this side task?

What about the address of the interview—wouldn’t that be in the ad?
You bet. Domenic describes it as “a walk-up office building on Fifth Avenue not far from the New York Library.” There were many such small (five stories or shorter) office buildings along this stretch of Fifth Avenue during this period. Assuming “not far” is the two blocks north or south of the library and includes the two blocks the library itself takes up on the west side of the avenue (across from office buildings on the east side), we should look for an address between 38th and 44th streets: lot numbers 424–529.

So…volunteers? Anybody? Anybody?

Postal carrier uniform by Penn Garment Company, in use by United States Postal Service 1906–1956. Read more information about it here. Photograph courtesy Smithsonian Institute, National Postal Museum, used with permission.