"Is there any art focused on Union military leaders and their softer side? If so, what? If not, why? Is there anything really wrong with creating military art that shows scenes that feature things other than combat? Would art showing Union leaders in similar situations actually sell?"
Well that is interesting. There do appear to be disproportionately more Confederate reenactors taking part in living history than those depicting Union soldiers. The sight of the US flag of 1861 leaves no impression on a modern viewer whatsoever, but the Confederate battle flag is among the most recognized, controversial, and marketable symbols of that, or indeed any era in American history.
But during the war itself, and for a number of decades afterward, there was quite an appetite (in the North, at any rate) for patriotic art steeped in Victorian sentimentality and featuring the northern soldier. Consider this Kurz and Alison lithograph of a very stylized battle of Antietam, published in Chicago in 1888. Kurz and Allison churned out reams of this stuff, covering a wide range of events and including those that were fought by colored troops (with their gallant white officers) or were notable Union losses (though depicting the action before the boys in blue had broken). Little attempt was made at realism - after all, no one wanted to hang one of Alexander Gardner's photographs of battlefield corpses in the front parlour. The public clearly had an interest in the romantizied artwork, however, and it made Kurz and Allison boththe Currier & Ives and the Mort Künstler of their era.
In the early 20th century, the Brandywine School of American illustrators tackled Civil War subjects from time to time. Howard Pyle created the artwork for many stories in Harper's Weekly set during the Civil War. They featured dramatic clashes of arms of the "brother against brother" variety, as well as some iconic Lost Cause portraits that would be very recognizable in today's Civil War art market. His protege N.C. Wyeth created illustrations with a signature, dreamlike quality, though the image of Billy Sherman, at right, is more the stuff of nighmare.
In popular imagination, images of the North are steeped in mechanization, modernity, and, as embodied by Grant, Sherman and their ilk, a ruthless determinination to pay any price to crush the rebellion. They play the Roundheads to J.E.B. Stuart's Cavaliers. They are the descendants of the Federalists bringing the fractious parts of the country into line. It is a decidedly unromantic view of government and unity, and one that is clearly out of synch with the independant streak in the American character. Unless you like Yankee pinstripes, most of us root for the underdog over the over powerful juggernaut (though as a Red Sox fan in these heady times of successful championships, I may no longer be in that category).
You see the same thing, incidently, in French and Indian war reenactments, with every 2nd unit, it seems, depicting independant companies of rangers rather than the powdered regulars of the Crown. We like to think of ourselves as rebels, rather than just working for the Man. Even, I daresay, when the idols of our affection are slave holding aristocrats. A classic image that juxtoposes lost cause gentility with something that looks very much like northern deference is the 1920 painting "Let Us Have Peace" by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris. One unfamiliar with the historical event of Appomatox might be forgiven after viewing this work if he or she remained uncertain as to just who was surrendering to whom. The image of Washington on the wall is particularly striking, bookending the shabby Grant with the two most famous Virginians.
We do not venerate Northern leaders, aside from Lincoln, as so many do the vanguished Sons of the South. Lincoln stands alone, and for all. He takes on the sins of a guilty nation in martyrdom so that "that nation might live." N.C. Wyeth manages to capture both extremes of the northern character in popular imagination in his portrait of Lincoln the westerner, with the storm clouds roiling above him, and the three carpetbackers at right.
Among the military artists working today, there is a cadre that prizes historical accuracy in minute detail. Formost of these are Don Troiani and Keith Rocco, who go to great lengths to place their subjects in scrupulously researched and rendered settings, with kepis creased just so and every uniform button and acoutrement true to the unit in question. Both artists also have a flair for the dramatic, and at their best manage to capture some of the swirling chaos of 19th century combat. They do not steep their battlefields in gore, which would not serve their artisitic purposes. Kevin Levin at Civil War Memory has taken up this subject on a number of occassions, and notes:
"In the end I think these prints are more about us than they are about the subjects they depict. The intention is to engender in us a certain emotion, which may or may not have any connection with history...Our primary interest is to be entertained by the war; in this regard I include myself. The art minimizes the horror of war, including the battlefield scenes painted by Troiani which hang on my office walls. We don’t really want to be reminded of the extent of the suffering that took place on and off the battlefield or the carnage that was left in its wake."
The idea that southern soldiers were somehow more pious and christian than their northern counterparts is a another popular misconception reenforced by some Confederate themed military art. The 1860s were a time of fervent religious revival, and the North because of its diversity of national origins represented many faiths and denominations. National days of prayer and Thanksgiving reflected a religious tradition with origins in the fast days of Puritan New England, but this theme of Yankee godliness is seldom expressed in today's Civil War art, with the notable exception of Don Troiani's painting of an Irish Brigade chaplain blessing the advancing Sons of Erin before the Sunken Road at Antietam. The "Wild Geese", though, are themselves archetypical underdogs and rebels, and Irish nationalism, as Hollywood knows full well, is popular with American audiences.
There are many reasons why someone might wish to purchase and display modern renditions of Civil War subjects. I collect toy soldiers from this period, for goodness sake, and am in no position to tell collectors what to like. I do find it interesting, however, that "Confederate stuff sells", and am in agreement with Kevin here that such artwork, produced for modern consumers, has more to say about us and what shapes our memories of the past than about the subjects they depict.