After being appointed to the New York City Art Commission, she was invited to the annual dinner at a men’s club in New York. The invitation said “Black Tie,” so she wore a black evening gown with a black bow tie.

Not so unusual today, but harken back nearly 100 years ago, during the first half of the 20th century, when women began to bob their hair, show some leg, and perhaps most importantly of all, had finally gained the right to vote.

This is just one of the many facets of Hildreth Meière, one of the most prominent figures in American mural and decorative art, which graces the interior of the Nebraska State Capitol Building in Lincoln.

“She seemed to be quite witty,” according to Kathleen Murphy Skolnik, who collaborated with Catherine Coleman Brawer, on the 240-page book, “The Art Deco Murals of Hildreth Meière,” during a recent interview.

Born in 1892, Meière was a distinguished American Art Deco muralist, who received more than 100 major commissions from leading architects for projects across the United States, according to the International Hildreth Meière Association, which conducts activities through education and preservation to promote and perpetuate her legacy.

Meière was nationally recognized during her lifetime for her outstanding architectural decoration. Her works, on public display, enhance civic and commercial buildings, houses of worship and schools. Her designs can be seen in prominent museums, as well as cultural institutions, it said.

In the book’s forward, Richard Guy Wilson, an American architectural historian, writes, “Hyperbole comes easy to academics and enthusiasts, but the achievements of Hildreth Meière are overwhelming; she stands at the top of the pyramid.”

By virtue of her talent, Meière was the first woman to receive the Fine Arts Medal of the American Institute of Architects in 1956, among her numerous awards – working at a time when few female artists were recognized by the established art world.

“Her versatility and willingness to experiment with new materials led Meière to design for glazed ceramic tile, glass and marble mosaic, wood-inlay, metal relief, oil on wood panel, terra cotta, raised and gilded gesso and stained glass,” the association said.

Her designs at One Wall Street, Radio City Music Hall, the RKO Building at Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Temple Emanu El, New York City, and the National Academy of Sciences Dome, Washington, D.C., are among her most recognized works of art, according to the book, which serves as a literary travel guide through her many accomplishments.

But the Nebraska Capitol – her largest commission – where her artistry adorns the domes, ceilings, tapestries, doors, glazed ceramic tile, marble mosaic, gold leaf on walnut, painted wood and leather work – is, what some say, launched her career.

“It’s really a triumph,” said Skolnik, who spent extensive time exploring the Nebraska Capitol and searching its archives. 

Back in 1919, the Nebraska Capitol Commission had begun a nationwide search for an architect to design a building to replace the crumbling structure that had housed the Nebraska government for 30 years.

The commission selected Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, a New York architect, who deemed best captured the spirit of Nebraska. Revolutionary in structure and style, it was completed in 1932, at a cost of $9.8 million, according to state archives.

“Bertram Goodhue adopted an entirely new approach to the design of a State Capitol, creating a building that, as he said, was ‘a State Capitol of the Here and Now.’ Capitol buildings are typically Neo-Classical structures, topped with a large dome, but he gave the classical elements a modern interpretation, replacing the large dome with a tall tower topped with a small dome,” she said.

To cast his vision, Goodhue drew upon four people, whom he called his quadrivirate, to collaborate on the building to help tell the story of Nebraska, to be represented through art and design.

Symbolically, the building’s low, broad base reflects the expanse of the prairie, and the tall tower rises as a landmark to be viewed from miles away, the archives state.

“They included Meière who designed the murals, Lee Lawrie, who designed the sculpture, and Hartley Burr Alexander, a University of Nebraska philosophy professor at the time, who developed the decorative program for the Capitol. Meière and Lawrie followed his guidelines in designing the murals and sculpture,” she said.

Yet, today, the majority, including art and architectural historians, don’t even know her name, according to Skolnik, who hopes their book will increase an awareness and appreciation of her prolific work.

“They may be well aware of certain commissions, but not aware that they are Meière’s work or that she had so many commissions. I would want them also to know how versatile she was. She designed murals for office buildings, government centers, churches, theaters, restaurants, cocktails lounges and world’s fair pavilions, and she worked in a wide variety of mediums,” she said.

But it took a lot more than her artistic sensibilities to succeed.

“I’d like them to be aware of her pioneering role as a woman entrepreneur, who was both an artist and a businesswoman,” she said.

 Unbounded by staid rules, she was not one to design – as they say – within the lines.

 “I’d like people to understand Meière’s (and the National Society of Mural Painters’) definition of a mural that went beyond the standard textbook definition of a painting on a wall. 

For her, a mural was more accurately defined as a decoration. It could be on a ceiling, a dome or even the floor, as well as a wall. And, it didn’t have to be painted, but could be executed in a variety of mediums,” she said.

So, who was this woman behind the smock?

“I didn’t know her and can’t speak from personal experience. I’ve described the impression I have of her, primarily from her own words,” Skolnik said, based on their research, correspondence and family input.

But, they did glean this …

“She achieved success in a field dominated by men, and she did it by her professionalism and talent. She never expected to be treated differently or to receive any special consideration because she was a woman,” she said.

However, when confronted by it, she did, as we say in more modern terms, clap back.

“When the Architectural League of New York considered holding an exhibition devoted exclusively to the work of its new women members, Meière was quick to voice her opposition: ‘Why not have an exhibition of the work of all the bald-headed members, and another of all those having red hair? These distinctions are just as valid as those of sex,’” Skolnik had read.

A devout Catholic, Meière reportedly enjoyed her religious commissions, believing that “to try to beautify a church is, to me, not only a professional opportunity, but a labor of faith and love.”

She also wore her colors on her sleeve – she was also very patriotic.

“During World War I she wanted to do ‘some useful thing” to support the war effort. She enlisted in the Navy and served as an architectural draftsman at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. During World War II, she wanted to re-enlist but couldn’t because she was a single mother. Instead as vice president of the Citizens Committee for the Army, Navy and Air Corps, she organized a group of artists, who painted three-paneled altarpieces, or triptychs, for military chaplains. 

“More than 500 were created, and Meière painted over 70 of them. She also taught first aid, decorated dining rooms, mess halls and other facilities used by troops, and was one of several artists who painted “Leaves from a Paris Sketchbook” murals for the Promenade Café in Rockefeller Center to raise funds for the American Field Service in France to purchase an ambulance,” Skolnik had discovered.

Expressive on canvas, she was also very colorful in appearance.

“She loved clothes. When working, she wore a long, blue smock over a skirt. But outside of the studio, she was very fashionable. She bought Galenga gowns in Italy. Her daughter, Louise, donated them to the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She also had clothes made in Paris and suits custom made in New York from material she bought in Scotland and Ireland. She also liked to dress up. She once dressed as Madame X for an event at the Architectural League of New York, and at another League party, she dressed as a circus rider and mounted a horse made up of two other members in costume,” she said.

She also loved travel, further expanding her horizons, no doubt delighting in the various art influences she encountered throughout the world.

“By 1955, she had made 19 round trips to Europe and had also been to Mexico, Central and South America, New Zealand, Australia, Indonesia, Thailand, India, Africa and the Middle East,” she said.

Although worldly, she remained humble in nature.

“She had great respect and admiration for the people she worked with – architects, clients, assistants and craftsmen,” Skolnik learned. 

“Her first priority was to please her client, even if their wishes differed from her opinion. When AT&T officials rejected her proposed mural for the ceiling of the company’s Long Distance Building, she quickly came up with an alternative, even though she felt that her original design ‘would have been more interesting and a more successful piece of work for that building.’”

This is further evidenced by the numerous letters she wrote to her mother, during her early days in New York.

“(They) indicate how tenacious she was, always looking for work. And, how excited she was to receive the commissions from Goodhue. She recognized how fortunate she was, with her limited experience, to be selected for major projects like the National Academy of Sciences and the Nebraska State Capitol,” she said.

Despite her travels, however, perhaps her greatest inspiration came from home.

Her own mother, Marie Hildreth, had studied art in Paris and New York.

 “She gave up her desire of becoming an artist when she married, but instilled a love of art in her daughters. She took her to Florence to study painting soon after her graduation,” Skolnik said.

When Meière returned, she studied at the Art Students League of New York until the family moved to the San Francisco area for her father’s health. There she studied at the California School of Fine Arts, where the prominent, Canadian-born actress, Margaret Anglin, encouraged Meière to move back to New York to design costumes and sets after seeing her sketches. 

“The design competitions were sponsored by the Beaux-Arts Institute of Design. Meière wanted to attend the institute, but couldn’t because women were not admitted, so she enrolled in the School of Applied Design for Women. But she was allowed to participate in the Beaux-Art competitions and consistently won first- and second-place medals,” she said.

As far as artists, Meière was most influenced by “the men of the early Renaissance,” such as Fra Angelico and Botticelli. Other inspirations varied according to the project. 

But her methodology was unique to each commission.

“‘The important thing, she stated, ‘is to make a new approach to each different piece of work.’ For example, when she was designing the decoration for the Great Hall at the National Academy of Sciences, she looked at Greek vase paintings, as well as Egyptian and contemporary art. The vestibule dome at the Nebraska State Capitol shows similarities with the Genesis dome at St. Mark’s in Venice, and the floor of the Sienna Cathedral inspired her design for the floor of the Capitol foyer. She studied Native American beadwork for her ceiling design in the Senate chamber in Nebraska. Her altarpieces show Gothic and Renaissance influences,” Skolnik noted.

Yet, Meière never liked being labeled. 

“She considered herself an artist, who happened to be a woman. She didn’t want to be singled out as a woman, and she didn’t want or expect to be treated differently because she was a woman. She didn’t think that women artists should be thought of as distinct from men, and she didn’t feel that their work should be segregated from the work of male artists.”  

However, Meière understood and sympathized with the struggles and challenges faced by other women artists of her time.

“In her early days as an aspiring artist, she had experienced a number of disappointments related to the fact that she was a woman. She had hoped to attend the Beaux Arts Institute of Design in New York, but couldn’t because the Beaux Arts Institute only admitted male students. In 1920, she applied to the American Academy in Rome for a fellowship in painting, and her application was rejected, not because of any official policy against women or because she wasn’t qualified, but because the American Academy didn’t have housing accommodations for women students in Rome.”

But Meière did believe that women artists were held to a higher standard.  

“As she told a reporter for the New York Sun in 1932, ‘I think that a woman must know her job better than a man to get into this field.’ She believed that women artists had to be more efficient and more dependable than their male counterparts, and if one woman fell down, it made it much harder for other women in the field.”

Yet, as an established artist, Meière did not feel that she was discriminated against because she was a woman. She told the New York Sun reporter, “I am sure the architects with whom I have been working so long have quite forgotten the fact that I am a woman.” 

Skolnik attributes her well-earned success to a combination of artistic talent, bolstered by impressive business skills.

 Knowing not everyone shares the same vision, she was savvy enough to learn the art of compromise – by recognizing the difference between easel and mural painters. 

“Easel painters could paint whatever they liked and hope it would sell. But mural painters had to sell themselves first, they had to get the job. And once they had the job, they had to paint, not necessarily what they wanted to paint, but what their clients wanted. Their first priority is to please their client,” she said.  

She also understood that professionalism was an important calling card.

“This meant living up to her agreements and fulfilling contracts on time, even if it meant working long hours to finish a job. And, she recognized the need to work well with other professionals – architects, clients, assistants and craftsmen. She had great respect for her collaborators, and she was always ready to give them credit for their contributions.” 

In other words, prima donnas need not apply …

She told attendees at a 1935 conference: “Mural painting is a cooperative game. Muralists had to be able to get along well with others, and artistic temperament was a drawback for a muralist.”

In retrospect, Meière, who passed away at age 69, in 1961, later wrote:

 “I consider that I have had an interesting and happy life – working hard as I have at what I like to do has made it so.”

Fact is, nobody painted her into a corner.

“Meière was way ahead of her time as a woman artist and businesswoman,” Skolnik said. “She worked hard and never had doubts that she would succeed.”

To learn more about the artist and her work, please visit the International Hildreth Meière Association web site at: https://www.hildrethmeiere.org/

Also, see “Capitol Views,” story, by Jamison Wyatt, a former tourism aide for the Office of the Nebraska Capitol Commission and Legislative staffer.