By Neil Turitz
Above: Liberty Bell: Cover Illustration for “American Artist,” July 1976. Norman Rockwell Museum Collection. Licensed by Norman Rockwell Family Agency. All rights reserved.

The list of great American artists is long and esteemed, but the artist most closely associated with “Americana” is undoubtedly Norman Rockwell. So it makes sense that the artist’s museum in Stockbridge—containing not only the world’s largest collection of his work, but also its greatest collection of illustrations—has big plans for the country’s 250th birthday this summer.

“We always plan at least two or three years in advance, sometimes more if we can manage it,” says the museum’s chief curator, Stephanie Plunkett. “But, obviously, there was a lot of discussion about this anniversary for the country. The way we think about illustration is that it is, in many ways, the people’s art, so we recognize that illustration had a tremendous role in shaping the American identity and American aspirations.”

With that in mind, the museum’s curatorial team put together an enormous exhibit that will take up every one of the facility’s galleries, focusing on numerous works by a myriad of American artists and illustrators. The exhibit, American Stories: From Revolution to Rockwell, will be on view from June 6 through October 26, 2026. Chief of Curatorial Affairs Russell Lord acknowledges it is “one of the biggest shows we’ve done in quite some time.” The common thread throughout the exhibition is that it all relates to Rockwell and his work.

“We wanted to think about how each chapter of the exhibition upholds Rockwell’s place within the history of illustration and within the history of American truth telling, or American myth making,” Lord says. “We did take a look at a lot of Rockwell’s works in the collection and think, ‘Okay, well, what story does this give us the chance to tell?’ So that led us to define the chapters in certain ways.”

The eight chapters of American Stories show how imagery created over hundreds of years helped reflect what it means to be American. Chapter titles include “Representing Origins,” “A Sense of Place,” “Coming to America,” “Service and Sacrifice,” “American Made,” “Social Justice and Equal Rights,” “Down to Earth,” and “American Myths.”

We Can Do It: Illustration for Westinghouse Electric & Manufacturing Company. Photo lithograph on paper; Lady Liberty: 1978 cover for The New Yorker, July 3, 1978. Norman Rockwell Museum Collection, gift of Jeanne Steig.

“Rockwell is actually present in every one of the sections that we will be mounting,” Plunkett says, pointing out that the painter and illustrator anchors each chapter, while also serving as a jumping off point for other artists’ work. In fact, it was the process of thinking about pivotal pieces of Rockwell’s oeuvre that led to some of the choices for the exhibit.

“Looking at specific paintings of his, we realized we should think about how that topic has been addressed by other artists over the years,” Lord explains. “Also, we are an institution that is devoted to an artist who is both local and national. Rockwell meant so much for this community, living in Stockbridge for so long, so we wanted this show to reflect that.”

James Van Der Zee, who is best known as the chronicler of the Harlem Renaissance but was born in Lenox and took his first photographs there, is a perfect example. Another is Rebecca Burr, a Mohican artist and descendant of the tribe that originally occupied Stockbridge, one of several indigenous artists featured in the exhibition. Her painting Paradise Lost depicts the New York skyline as seen through the oral histories of her ancestors.

“The intention is not to be overtly political in one way or another, but to reflect upon the way that artists engage with history.”

“The really fun part of curatorial work is thinking about how you take a set of images and present them physically in space, in a way that can also convey meaning,” Lord says, “because those decisions matter. Putting things right next to each other, they can talk to each other in important ways.”

Case in point: the inclusion of the most famous representation of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, by John Trumbull, as well as spoofs of the iconic portrait, like the one from artist Jonathan Crow, which blacks out all the slave owners. Suddenly, only nine founding fathers remain.

“It’s a really powerful representation of having one meaning for somebody, but another very different one for somebody else,” Lord says. “It’s a great way to think about how these icons become representations of our country. For better or worse.”

The New Tavern Sign: Interior illustration for The Saturday Evening Post, February 22, 1936. Private collection ©1936 SEPS, Curtis Licensing

“The things that people see on a daily basis—we ask ourselves, is what we’re seeing true?” Plunkett adds. “Not just in this exhibition, but anywhere, and we’re dealing with this more and more every day. What does it mean and how do we decipher it? So we think a lot about visual literacy, and asking people to look closely and think about what they see, because we can’t take for granted that what we are seeing is factual.”

One of the chapters detailing the evolution of American symbols features several different representations of the Statue of Liberty. “Which, of course, reflects upon democracy and freedom,” Plunkett says. “But there are all kinds of reflections by illustrators on the statue. The intention is not to be overtly political in one way or another, but to reflect upon the way that artists engage with history.”

In other words, a major goal of the exhibition is to ask the visitor to think about their idea of America, rather than trying to instill any patriotic feelings about what they’re looking at.

“Obviously, we want everybody to come to the museum,” Lord says. “But I think the one twist I would put on that is that we also want to present facts. We want to provide evidence for potential education, for people to learn. The beauty of illustration is that it does give you a lot of opportunity for people to think and to find their own place to stand. We sometimes have the reaction, ‘oh, it’s never been this bad before.’ But I think history shows us that a lot of these things are cyclical, and here’s the pictures to prove it.”

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Rockwell’s studio walked through Stockbridge to its new home at the Norman Rockwell Museum in 1986; Photo courtesy of Norman Rockwell Museum.

Opening the Rockwell Vault

If you were not aware that the Norman Rockwell Museum was home to a “vault” housing approximately 25,000 original illustrations other than Rockwell, you’re not alone. Most people aren’t, and that’s a bit disconcerting to Russell Lord and Stephanie Plunkett.

“That tells us a few things,” Lord says with a laugh. “We clearly need to yell a little bit louder about it, and we need to find new channels to share the information.”

When the museum first opened, the collection was basically made up of work by just Rockwell and some of the artists he himself collected. Over time, that collection has grown extensively. The museum also houses Rockwell’s business correspondence, pictures from photographers he hired, letters from President Eisenhower and other luminaries, plus support material, multiple copies of the Saturday Evening Post and other things he illustrated such as Boy Scout handbooks, his Presidential Medal of Freedom, and even his bifocals and three of his bicycles.

Roughly 25 years ago, however, the curators had a realization.

“We recognized and made the decision to begin collecting the work of other artists, because Rockwell did not exist in a vacuum,” Plunkett says. “His profession had essentially gone on centuries before him, and it continues today. So the concept of placing him within the context of his field became very important.”

The team is constantly considering what the vault is missing, adding things like editorial artwork for magazines; illustrations for book jackets, romance novels, and children’s books; and political cartoons. One of the new targets for addition is graphic novels.

“These illustrations are both a reflection of their times, but also commentary by one particular artist who was working within a system,” Plunkett says. “So what we have tried to do is represent the field broadly. Very fortunately, we have been recognized as the institution that collects this work, preserves it, and shares it.”

And all that is right here in our proverbial backyard.