Sunday, April 11, 2010

Constantin Brancusi: The Elemental Studio Gallery



Constantin Brancusi was regarded as a major figure of the early twentieth century avant-garde artistic movement. He mixed and mingled with Parisian trend-setters the likes of Guillaume Apollinaire, Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, Marcel Duchamp, and Ezra Pound. A bit of an enigma, with no clearly defined artistic style, he has frequently been described as an abstract sculptor even though he “cloaked his pure abstractions in symbolic meaning.” [i]

Brancusi was born in a small village in Romania in February 1876. One of eight children born to peasant parents, he bristled under the repression of his abusive father and brothers, running away several times as a youth. By the age of thirteen, he escaped his oppressive home life and moved to Craiova, a neighboring city, in Romania. While working as a grocery clerk, his random hand carvings came to the attention of the store’s owner and several customers and, together they raised enough money to send Brancusi to the Craiova School of Crafts.[ii]

After graduating from the Craiova School of Crafts in 1989 with honors, he enrolled at the Bucharest School of Fine Arts to study sculpture. Upon his 1902 graduation, he held a series of menial jobs until moving first to Munich and then Paris where he settled and would spend the remainder of his life.[iii]

In 1904, he enrolled at the prestigious Ecole Nationale des Beaux-Arts. Three years later, in 1907, Auguste Rodin tapped Brancusi as a student-assistant for his Meudon studio, located outside of Paris. After only two months with Rodin, Brancusi left Rodin’s atelier because he felt that, “Nothing can grow under big trees.” In breaking from Rodin, Brancusi set upon his lifelong path: “the simplification of form to its Platonic essence”. Unlike his friend and U. S. agent, Marcel Duchamp, Brancusi was not seduced by the machine age. Instead he remained true to his Romanian craftsman traditions.[iv] Immediately following his departure from Rodin’s studio, he began to participate in exhibitions and salons, showing first at the Salon de Beaux-Arts in the summer of 1907.

Brancusi preferred his work to be seen and discovered in the context of his studio, surrounded by metal tools, salvaged wood, panes of glass, unfinished pieces, marble dust, wood shavings, and his hand-made furnishings. He constantly adjusted and staged his finished sculptures and works-in-progress, often grouping and regrouping them to ensure their best possible position. He documented the interiors of his studios in a plethora of photographs, acting as his own art director and stylist. [v]

In keeping with Brancusi’s belief that his sculptures should be viewed in his studio, we have reconstructed his studio for our exhibit: The Elemental Studio Gallery. With works on loan from New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and the George Pompidou Centre of Paris, we have reconstructed a replica of his 34,000 cubic foot #9 Impass Ronsin atelier[vi]. In this reconstructed Paris studio, we look to affect the harmonies Brancusi achieved by working with elemental materials in spaces he designed and remodeled, with tools, workbenches and pulley systems he devised with his very hands. On display here you’ll find singular pieces worked in wood, metal, ceramic, marble and glass.[vii] The bases for many of his sculptures originated as work tables or stools and we’ve included these in the reconstruction as well.[viii]

Among the blocks of virgin marble, recycled Parisian lumber, bronze pellets, onyx, polished steel, and glass, you’ll behold six of Brancusi’s most celebrated sculptures. Upon entering the exhibit is Brancusi’s The Prayer, a bronze female nude intended as a grave marker. Her saddened and sullen figure, bent in grief, does not repel but draws you into the sculptor’s inner sanctum. Next you’ll find The Kiss, which balances the severity of The Prayer with greetings of romance and fulfillment. Further along, placed strategically upon purpose-built, hand hewn marble, limestone, and sandstone bases are two sculptures in black and white marble known as Bird in Space. These later period sculptures represent what was “spiritually, aesthetically, and formally fundamental” to Brancusi. Of his birds he said, “My birds are a series of different objects in a central research that remains the same.”[ix]

As you move beyond the ropes and pulleys, saws and cleavers, you come upon what many consider his seminal marble, metal, and stone sculpture, The Beginning of the World. It is believed Brancusi sat for hours with this sculpture upon his lap, touching it with his hands, while he sat with his eyes closed. He said of [his] sculpture that it must be “lovely to touch, friendly to live with, not only well made.” When you look upon this piece, try to imagine yourself as he would have been…surrounded with his works, in his over-sized studio, allowing his sensitivity to materials, his tactile and visual values, and his ideals for perfecting forms to guide his life. [x]

We close the Elemental Studio Gallery exhibit with the Torso of a Young Man. Produced in maple, Brancusi looked to match the content of the sculpture to the material at hand. Here we see a male form modeled in hard wood, the trunk of the form builds upon established cultural associations, “calling to mind countless classical torsos in museums around the world.”[xi]

In all of Brancusi’s elemental works, we see an essential simplicity of forms. Many would argue that he was not an abstract artist because his sculptures retained a strong appeal to ideas. While his works may defy categorization, with each of his enigmatic sculptures Brancusi transforms the sculpture’s materiality, from an inanimate block arises pure energy, and thus, signals an “entirely unique perspective on sculpture”.[xii]

Bibliography

Ayers, Andrew. "Brancusi, Constantin." In The Oxford Companion to Western Art, edited by Hugh Brigstocke. Oxford Art Online, http://0-www.oxfordartonline.com.library.pcc.edu:80/subscriber/article/opr/t118/e364 (accessed February 20, 2010).

Faerna, Jose Maria. Brancusi. Edited by Nola Butler. Translated by Alberto Curotto. New York, NY: Harry N. Abrams, Inc, 1997.

Miller, Sandra. "Brancusi, Constantin." In Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online, http://0-www.oxfordartonline.com.library.pcc.edu:80/subscriber/article/grove/art/T010887 (accessed February 20, 2010).

Shanes, Eric. Constantin Brancusi. Edited by Nancy Grubb. New York, NY: Abbeville Press, Inc, 1989.

Tacha, Athena C. "Legend, Reality and Impact." Art Journal (College Art Association) 22, no. 4 (Summer 1963): 240-241.


[i] Eric Shanes, Constantin Brancusi, (New York: Abbeville Press, Inc, 1989), 7.

[ii] Eric Shanes, Constantin, 11. Up until this stage he was only attending the art school part time.

[iii] Ibid., 12

[iv] Sandra Miller. "Brancusi, Constantin." In Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online, (accessed February 20, 2010)

[v] Sandra Miller. “Brancusi, Constatin.”

[vi] Eric Shanes, Constantin, 109.

[vii] Jose Maria Faerna, Brancusi. (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc, 1997), 58.

[viii] Athena C. Tacha, 240.

[ix] Eric Shanes, Constantin, 40.

[x] Athena C. Tacha, "Legend, Reality and Impact." Art Journal (College Art Association) 22, no. 4 (Summer 1963), 241.

[xi] Eric Shanes, Constantin, 56.

[xii] Jose Maria Faerna, Brancusi, 7.

Walking into the Sublime

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s Street, Dresden demonstrates his fondness for dynamic brushwork similar to that of Neo-Impressionists Van Gogh and Gauguin, while his unique use of space and form hearkens back to Cezanne. Despite these references to the past, his singular use of color, employed to express emotion, sets him apart from his predecessors and establishes him as the leading Expressionist of the 20th Century.

In Street, Dresden, Kirchner depicts a busy, contemporary street scene completely filling the picture plane, save several spots of shocking pink. The massive oil on canvas painting measures 4’ 11¼” x 6’ 67/8” and features several women walking briskly toward the viewer, a mob of women in the background, and a lone man in the lower right corner of the canvas. The painting is utterly devoid of any architecture or landscaping features. The elongated figures in the foreground look directly into the eyes of the viewer/artist, and each is dressed in stylish outerwear befitting the turn of the century cosmopolitan Dresden. Their faces and figures are slightly abstracted, with pupil-less eyes and orange and green faces. Despite their abstract forms, the foreground figures are more stylized than those in background, which appear as abstracted blue forms with splashes of green, ochre and orange. There is no horizon line or vanishing point in this panting. In fact, Kirchner, like Matisse before him, introduces an unnatural tilt to render perspective, distance and depth.

Kirchner uses unblended, long feathered brushstrokes to create his elongated and narrow figures. Heavy curvilinear contour lines of dark blue and green create the outlines of the overlapping figures. In the background, there is a feeling of compression; a feeling of density created by the mass of abstract bodies.

Kichner’s skills as a Expressionist colorist are at their best in this painting. He uses deeply saturated blues and greens to depict his forms with accents of bright orange, lime green, and ochre and off white used as highlights. Like Van Gogh, he applies paint in vigorous, thick layers, allowing previous layers to bleed through the top colors here and there, adding energy. Like Henri Matisse’s Blue Nude, Kichner did not blend his paint colors but allowed them to co-exist side-by-side creating further intensity of feeling. This rough and unfinished look gives the painting a feeling of movement and tension befitting the busyness of this turn of the century street scene. His figures move in a dream-like fashion perhaps alluding to Dresden’s carefree, contemporary lifestyle. Swirls of dark blue and green heighten the action and purpose of the image. In the foreground, a large area of pink, in shocking contrast to the blues, greens and oranges, adds further momentum and tension to the bustling street scene.

The cool-colored, fast-paced city scene lacks the modeling and chiaroscuro of classical paintings, because like Gauguin and Matisse, Kirchner’s world was flat and not idealized or naturalized. Kirchner relies upon his color expertise to express the dignity and character of Dresden city life. His dark palate, with splashes of pink, orange and cream, creates an atmosphere of progression and action, of moving forward, of accomplishment. Simple as this image may seem, Kirchner demonstrated with great aplomb his freedom from academic oppression and his ability to express the excitement, emotion and narrative of the epoch in which he found himself to be the leading German Expressionist of the early 20th Century.


Image Credit:

Kirchner, Ernst Ludwig. Street, Dresden. 1908. The Museum of Modern Art, New York. ARTstor. Web. 09 January 2010.


Saturday, September 19, 2009

An 800 Kilometer Walk, but Why?

So for my 50th birthday, 5 years from this November the 6th, I plan on walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela from the Pyrenees Mountains in the South of France to the West Coast of Northern Spain. Why would millions of somewhat sane people undertake this arduous journey? For many it's a religious trek upon which they either want to deepen their faith, repent and gain forgiveness, or rediscover their religious groundings. For me it's a test of will. Competing against myself. Driving myself forward. Going when my body says stop. For me, it's a way to experience history to walk in the footsteps of millions of pilgrims before me. For me its a way to see the marvelous Gothic architecture I've been studying in my Art History classes. So between my Master's and PhD, I'll load up my ultra lightweight backpack with all the wicking clothes I can fit, my first aid kit, and set off for a month of pleasure and hell all in one. Come, join me!

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Museums and Sex


"According to a study by Rome's Institute of Psychology and Psychoanalysts, museums are aphrodisiacs. Apparently something in the dust, the smell of old canvas, and the artwork itself stimulates Eros. The institute polled 2000 Italians, and 20% of them admitted to having an "erotic" experience inside a museum. The phenomenon has been dubbed the "Rubens Syndrome". A junior Italian culture minister, who admitted to making love inside a museum, explains, "People who like to go to museums feel love. Love for art and love for eroticism are, therefore, completely compatible and transferable." The institute ranked Italy's sexiest museums, and the Uffizi came in fourth, after Genova's Palazzo del Principe Doria, Milan's Pinacotec di Brera, and Turin's Galleria d'Arte Moderna." -- In Love in Italy, Monica Larner

For more information on the Uffizi - www.uffizi.firenze.it

Romanesque: The beginning of a Revivial

During Romanesque times, 1050-1200, we see a slow transition from Ottonian architects, who built basic basilican churches with towering spires and imposing westworks (based upon Carolingian models) to the alternate-support system and galleries of the interior naves. Gone virtually overnight, are the timber roofs, replaced for both fireproofing and acoustic sensibilities by barrel and then elaborate groin vaulting.

Norman and English Romanesque architects introduced new features to church design: rib groin vaults over three-story naves (arcade-tribune-clerestory) and the experimentation with quadrant arches in the tribune to buttress the nave vaults; all precursors to the French Gothic architecture to come.

Church campaniles and baptisteries were usually freestanding and independent of the facing churches.

Cathedrals, based on the Latin ‘chathedr’ or seat of holy power, became the building of choice.

Because of the introduction of Pilgrimages, numerous churches (basilicas and cathedrals) sprang up along the pilgrimage roads leading to major shrines and houses of worship. Saint James at Santiago de Compostela was large enough to accommodate crowds of pilgrims who came to view the relics displayed in a new architectural feature, the radiating chapels.

I was at Westminster Abbey, in London, April of 2008. Originally built in 1100s, but then rebuilt in the Gothic style in the 1200s, this was my first exposure to radiating chapels. Of course, I didn’t know then what I know now (funny how that is the way it always is), so I’m on a quest to find us images of Romanesque radiating chapels from the inside so we can see first hand what’s inside…

http://web.kyoto-inet.or.jp/org/orion/eng/hst/gothic/sandeni5.html

http://www.westminster-abbey.org/visit-us/highlights

Each of Westminster-abbey’s radiating chapels holds the sarcophagi (many the size of full size American pickup trucks) of famous religious and political figures:

http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=45166

http://www.westminster-abbey.org/visit-us/highlights/the-north-transept

Yum! Architectural Sculpture…

Almost non existent during the Early Medieval times according to our text save the wooden portal of the stave church at Urnes, Norway, and the doors at Hildesheim, Germany. Architectural sculpture seemed to rear its expressive and artistic head again in the Romanesque period. A precursor for what’s to come with the great Gothic Cathedrals (e.g., Reims Cathedral, Cologne Cathedral, and of course, my favorite so far: Notre Dame in Paris).

From plain and austere interiors, designed to encourage contemplation and worship, sprouted the reintroduction of marble friezes, such as at the Modena Cathedral, in Modena, Italy. Both interiors and exteriors seemly sprouted artistic expression ala the interior of San Miniato al Monte in Florence with its elaborate marble incrustations and the niche statue of Kind David at the Fidenza Cathedral.

http://www.buffaloah.com/a/virtual/italy/flor/min/source/14.html

http://www.jstor.org/pss/2856519

Facades became the focal points with their high relief tympanum, trumeau, jambs and lintels. Whether depicting the Last Judgment, the Pentecost and their accompanying bestiaries, the message was clear: “Christ is the door to salvation.”

Our video viewing changed this week from Faith and Reason to a Matter of Fact. But I was left wanting more!!! What follows are the important things that I learned…

In the middle ages, art was a tool to help keep facts in head. Since writing and reading were reserved for the monks, the spoken word was king. People employed mnemonics like rhyming to keep facts straight. And, those who could read, read aloud, this is where we get the term “audit”. Writing was considered mystical and it was devised to keep knowledge, most importantly holy knowledge alive. As we learned, monks, living in monasteries spent their scholarly time reading and copying of books. This devotion was considered a type of worship.

Even the tools the monks used had religious meaning. For example, the split nib represented the love of god and your neighbor, the ruler, a straight line to god, the blank paper on which the monk’s would write equaled a clear conscious to fill with goodness, and to hold them in check, the pen knife was related to the a sharp fear of god.

While the movie goes on to talk about the advent of the first moveable type and the Guttenberg printing press, accounting, capitalism, Indulgences, and ultimately the invention of the computer. It is the books that I found most intriguing.

Books began as sacred objects of veneration. And the ability to print, in mass production the same book over and over again, meant that no longer were books reserved for the educated and rich. Now the tillers of the land, could have books. They may not have been able to read initially, but like the video pointed out, pamphlets, the precursors of full on books, were written in colorful cartoons for the plebeians, German for the locals, and Latin for the Churchmen. This tri-translation made it possible even for the most uneducated to, through the use of imagery, understand the message being broadcasted.

The publication of biblical text meant that the standardization of worship and approved texts throughout Christendom. And with publication came expression. If you could write it, get it printed, and distribute it, you too could be read around the world. Now the people, not just royalty or the religious scholars had access to propaganda.

For the first time since Classical time, armed with knowledge itself – people could check the facts for the first time and the church could be called into question.

http://libraries.slu.edu/archives/digcoll/mssexhibit07/manuscripts/eadwine.html

Some historical goodies:

The first book ever printed.

If woodblock printing, which requires laboriously hand carving a wood block for every page of the book, is considered a contender, then the Diamond Sutra is the oldest surviving example of a printed book. A copy in the British Library dates to 868 CE. There's a catch, however: other block printed books are probably older, but are undated, making the Diamond Sutra the first printed book with a verifiable date, not the oldest printed book and most certainly not the first.

http://www.wisegeek.com/what-was-the-first-printed-book.htm

http://www.bl.uk/onlinegallery/sacredtexts/diamondsutra.html

Romanesque: Roman-Like

Interior of Saint-Sernin, Toulouse, France, ca 1070-1120, Romanesque Europe

Saint-Sernin, predated Saint-Denis by only 70 years. But, during that time, we see an explosion of architectural, cultural, and religious change.

Built during the Romanesque era, to honor the city’s first bishop, the term denotes the “Roman-like” art of the Middle Ages. As such, Saint-Sernin, represents one of the earliest examples of stone vaulting. During the Romanesque times, pilgrimage was the most conspicuous feature of public devotion. Many of the churches, like Saint-Sernin in Touluse, France, were built along major pilgrimage routes to provide breaks in journeys and housed meaningful relics too; Saint Foy’s remains were at Saint-Sernin. To accommodate these throngs of worshippers churches expanded up and out; meaning longer and wider naves and aisles, transepts and ambulatories with additional chapels and second storey galleries. Radiating chapels were an original feature of Saint-Etienne at Vignory, France. But here, the chapels were only attached to the apse area, as there was no transept in the plan of this church. The first hint of radiating chapels comes form the abbey church at Saint Michael’s at Hildesheim, Germany.

Romanesque building was influenced by regional styling as was the Gothic. While churches in Italy retained their wooden roofs, northern churches either did away with wooden roofs or built in a combination style.

At Saint-Sernin, groin-vaulting, invented by the classical Romans, encloses the tribune galleries, (which housed the overflow of pilgrims), as well as the ground floor aisles, and buttressed the barrel vaulting over the nave. These groin vaults transferred the main thrust to the thick exterior walls. Compound piers supported the heavy interior. Nine radiating chapels housed the relics. And, for the first time, we see chapels extending from the transept as well as the apse.

The exterior of Saint-Sernin had buttresses framing each bay. We would see this building support method expanded upon, first with the interior buttresses of Durham Cathedral, and a little more than seventy years later with the soaring external buttresses of Notre-Dame de Paris, and Chatres Cathedrals.

About the same time Saint-Sernin was being built, a lighter, more “Gothic-looking” church was being built in Caen, France. Again, built over three centuries (as was the norm with most building projects due to delays, fire, war, etc), Saint-Etienne, lays the foundation for Gothic building with its sexpartite vaults, alternating half-columns and pilasters (giving more room for parishioners) and its efficient clerestory. The resulting three-story elevation, with its large arched opening, admits more light to the interior.

It’s worth noting too that monastic life still held the center of the religious core. While it’s true that building of churches outside the monasteries began to increase, the laity still looked to the monks for intellectual as well as spiritual guidance. But, religion became political during this time. In 1095, Pope Urban II’s sermon to the Council of Clermont spawned The Crusades. These Christian warrior pilgrims’ sole purpose was to protect the Holy Lands from the heathens who threatened her, namely the Muslims. This “assault” upon Christianity garnered a frenzy of support from the laity and resulted in three Crusades, each costing the church dearly in money and lives. Back home though, the crusades succeeded in increasing the power and prestige of the towns. Towns purchased their charters from the barons who owned them; the middle class merchants and artisans arose to rival the power of the feudal lords and the great monasteries. Thus, the hold the monasteries had began to wane.

Along the Camino Trail: A Religious Stop of Note

Ambulatory and radiating chapels, abbey church, Saint-Denis, France, 1140-1144, Early French Gothic, Gothic Europe

The Gothic style cathedral with its ribbed groin vaulting, lancet and rose windows, soaring towers, and enormous mass, replaced the barrel-vaulted basilica as the Christian’s building of choice. The new plans with their expansive height, super wide aisles, ambulatories and radiating chapels were better suited to accommodate the throngs of pilgrims who made their far-reaching treks from across Europe to visit the holy relics stored in various cathedrals. These larger, grander cathedrals holding sway over medieval villages and towns were not “distortions of the classical style but images of the City of God.”

In Saint-Denis, rebuilt under the guidance of the abbot Suger, we see the realization that this church should not only accommodate the growing number of pilgrims, but it should serve as the official church to the French kings. As such, Suger felt in its 1122 state, it lacked the grandeur and opulence due the kings. A massive undertaking, managed by Suger, was begun to alter the church for these purposes. In 1135, Suger had a new west façade with sculptured portals installed. And, in 1140 work began on the east end. Unfortunately, Suger passed away before the dedication of the new nave, but did live to see the dedication of the new choir, ambulatory, and radiating chapels.

In his quest to rebuild a grand cathedral worthy of a King, he pioneered the innovative rib vaults, which rested on pointed arches (also known as ogival arches), which enclosed the ambulatory and chapels. These new vaults were lighter than previous groin vaults and enabled the builders to eliminate various supporting walls opening the radiating chapels up within and made possible thinner outer walls by adding windows. Here is Saint-Denis, we see the use of lancet stained glass which as Suger said, allowed light to pour into the chapels. He dubbed this wondrous light, “lux nova” or new light. Suddenly, churches transformed from dark basilicas, lit only by what light filtered through clerestory windows high above the nave, to illuminated centers of religious worship. Saint-Denis shares a circular ambulatory with several churches from previous eras. For example, while certainly not Gothic in design, you can see from the interior of the Palatine Chapel, the seat of Charlemagne’s power, the same type of division of space. Also, too, note how the Palatine chapel was the first vaulted structure of the middle ages north of the Alps. Architects were experimenting with known building methodologies; looking for ways to make churches even grander. Even earlier than the Palatine Chapel, is the Ravenna, Italy, church of San Vitale. Built almost 700 years before Saint-Denis, we see a centrally planned church, which served as the seat of Byzantine dominion in Italy. Again, built in honor of the current ruler, Theodoric, again, by a man of the cloth, Bishop Eccleisus. Built in an octagon with ample clerestory lighting, this completed building features a dome, versus the vaulted ceilings to come. The interiors of both the Palatine and San Vitale are heavy, with thick columns and piers. Space is consumed by architectural support leaving less room for the faithful. In contrast, Saint-Denis, is open and airy; a rather inviting space.

During the Gothic building era, intellectual and religious life would migrate from the countryside situated monasteries to the urban centers. Merchants and guilds brought wealth and growth to these centers following the population depleting Black Plaque. A new age of prosperity was fostered by the combination of new money and fewer people to provide for. While the church was still extremely powerful, and worship was still at the center of most inhabitants’ lives, for the first time the life of the laity took on a more scholastic bent. The first universities were established. Writing and reading were no longer instruments solely of the monks. Merchants began to use writing to record their profits and losses. And, with their new money, pen books as well too. Religion began to be patronized by the wealthy. And, monuments, books, and sculpture were erected honoring their contributions to the church.

Throughout the Gothic period, cathedral building transformed from low, squat basilica-like structures, to soaring representations of God. Elaborate tracery became the norm. Architectural sculpture expanding from presentations of the Old Testament and life of Christ, to include the Virgin Mother as well too. Kings and queens, as well as other people of note, were immortalized in portal sculpture. First as columnar figures, which later took on the look and feel of classical sculpture with the reintroduction of contrapossto and model figuring.

French Gothic cathedrals soared. From the smallest Loan (nave vaults 80 feet) to the tallest, Amiens (at 144 feet). To support this growth toward the heavens, buildings employed external buttressing, different from the internal buttresses we saw earlier in the building of the Durham Cathedral, begun in 1093. As French Gothic expanded across Europe, it took on more regional nuances, as in the Cologne Cathedral in Germany with its elaborate exterior tracery. And, in the churches of England we see the introduction of the Perpendicular style, which included fan vaults with lacelike tracery and hanging pendants. Nowhere else is this more evident than Westminster Abbey in London.