Celebration at The Kreeger Museum

The architecture of the modern mansion designed by Philip Johnson and Richard Foster is one of the attractions of The Kreeger Museum nestled in a wealthy residential enclave of Washington DC. Its permanent collection and the temporary exhibitions keep bringing me back for a visit, the latest to view Here, in this little Bay: Celebrating 30 years at The Kreeger. Even though the fourteen artists selected for the show are from the DMV area (DC, Maryland, Virginia), it is a cosmopolitan gathering as ten of them were born abroad, from the Far East to South America. A reflection "on our interactions with the natural environment", the theme of the exhibition is approached through photographs, paintings, drawings and sculptures. 

With a fresh pair of eyes I went downstairs to start the visit, my first encounter with the artists and their works. Initially thought to be industrial furniture, Marshland Elegy, 2024, from Marty Koelsch, a decorative flat piece of sycamore lying on a black metal base, upon closer look revealed the map of a meandering river drawn by gaps in the carefully polished salvaged wood. The exhibition's brochure found upstairs in the library provided cues about the mortuary title of the work, a speculative model of Jones Falls, a pristine stream in Maryland now forever altered by the industrial developments brought by European settlers. Dreams of an untouched Arcadia generate regrets tinged with an aura of romanticism. 

A somber mood pervades the first gallery bathing in greyish, black, muted colors, to deal with themes about catastrophes like Burning Away #1 and #2 (2023), two chemigrams from the Japanese-American photographer Kei Ito. The crude silhouettes of charred human remains are the result of a complex process involving oils, honey, syrup, and refer to the devastating nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, forever part of the artist's history. The two small sculptures on pedestals Volcano (2003), and Peak (2003) from Athena Tacha, born in Greece, are diminutive works from the multimedia artist better known for her sizable environmental public sculptures. Her two shiny black mandala-like works on the wall (silver acrylic ink on black watercolor paper), are spoiled by the reflection of the spotlights. Part of her Singularity series, they are an attempt to unveil mysteries from the universe while Golden Pools, 2015-2016, photographs of volcanic pools in the Danakil Depression bring us to remote Ethiopia. Venice is sinking. Soledad Salamé's black and white photographs, upshots of original aerial views from Google Earth, reveal an hypothetical sight of the magical city, victim of climate change, engulfed in water. Famous for his sculpture Kryptos, located at the CIA headquarters, Jim Sanborn is also an ecologically friendly land artist. Through elaborate techniques, he creates stunning photographs of natural sites on which he imprints geometric designs or magnified fingerprints, underlining the beauty and purity of  natural sites and the brevity of our interaction on them. Three of his photographs from the Analog Projections series are featured with sites from Utah, Oregon and Ireland.  

A short passage filled with a display of African masks leads to a windowless gallery lined up with works on the walls and two sculptures on pedestals. For once, my first impression is deceptive. A  flimsy looking assemblage haphazardly constructed with painted paper towels on wooden frames supported by sandbags, Stervende Overwinning (Dying Victory) (1872-2024) from Monsieur Zohore reveals the depth of its content when looking closer. Made of snippets of more than twelve paintings from Piet Mondrian, divided by a long thick white braid, the work sums up the painter's career from his figurative to his abstract period which made him famous. One can recognize a wilted sunflower alluding to Dying Sunflower, (1907-1908) which belongs to The Kreeger's permanent collection and a fragment of Broadway Boogie-Woogie (1943), his last painting. Zohore implies that 1872, the birthyear of Mondrian, is also the year of conception of "Dying Victory". Monsieur Zohore, pseudonym of the Ivorian-American artist born in Potomac, Maryland, could be a clown's name. The artist uses humor, self-deprecation, absurdism, satires, to tackle serious subjects, here art history and life-cycle. Upstairs in the library, Primitivism (Plinth), 2012-2024, an installation made of plastic birds of paradise, native flowers of South Africa, standing in bottles of Windex brings up reflections about beauty, economic disparities, values, pollution, cultural products, and more, through a visual metaphor. Across, two paintings from David Carlson mingle Western and Eastern art in abstract compositions as Dolores Zinny's miniature color drawings offer small views of the limitless sky from Rosario, Argentina, to Baltimore, Maryland, evoking the migration patterns South to North. With trimmed landscapes in the background, the six portraits from the photographer Chan Chao of soldiers, mother and child, father and child, stay remote, storiless, lost in the past (photographs from 1997 to 2008). Shahla Arbabi's paintings are moody and premonitory while her two sculptures objectify the forces of destruction followed by decay brought by catastrophes. The models of crumbling buildings make us ponder about our fragile present and the concept of impermanence. The next stop is upstairs in the library where we find Monsieur Zohore's installation and the books from the collectors. The sounds from Kristin Putchinski's video enliven the quiet atmosphere as the images of Reaping and Sowing, 2023, her 12 minutes performance, run by. The wrecking and transformation of an upright piano is a violent scene unfolding on a screen divided in two parts. One can extrapolate to personal and universal cycles of destruction and reconstruction. Jae Ko, Linn Meyers and Juan Maidagan are each represented by one work in the third gallery closeby. Jae Ko born in South Korea adopts the traditions of paper folding from Far Eastern countries in her composition JK 2158 Red on Ash Black, 2023. For Linn Meyers the creation of Mirror World, 2022, is a performance in itself as she draws (it seems) an infinity of small black dots on a fine grid. The result is a delicate diptych, a thin black veil leaving an ethereal light filter through translucent folds.  Maidagan is represented by a small wall sculpture in bronze, inaccessible and lonely on the white wall. The modern mansion appears to be built around an interior courtyard filled with palms and small sculptures. In Silence, 2001-2002, the work from Salamé, made of insects caught in resin color of amber, is in harmony with the background of plants which survived since prehistory. On the other side, the site specific curtain-like orange and yellow installation from Dolores Zinny Aliseos (Westerlies, Easterlies), 2024, makes us dream of paradisiac islands, palm trees and idyllic sunsets.

It is a new world since the poem from Coventry Patmore was published. The title of the exhibition 'Here, in this little Bay' is the first verse of 'Magna Est Veritas', a poem published in 1877. I have to confess, I discovered the author and the artists selected for the show on the Internet. I also relied heavily on the brochure which provided detailed information about the sometimes labor intensive processes involved in the creation of the works and when needed, the keys to their concepts in overblown analysis. The goal of the exhibition is reached: a reflection "on our interactions with the natural environment". All the selected works make us face the reality of our harmful impact on the natural environment. Nature which used to provide a peaceful retreat to seek beauty and pursue spiritual endeavors, now generates guilt, anxiety, and a feeling of doom: the rain is acid, the sun is too hot, trees are burning and seas are rising. 

A somber anniversary at The Kreeger Museum.

photographs by the author:

David Carlson "Tree", 2023

Shahla Arbabi "Frozen in Time", 2022

Monsieur Zohore "Primitivism (Plinth)", 2012-2024

Soledad Salamé "In Silence", 2001-2002

More at Hirshhorn

Revolutions: Art from the Hirshhorn Collection 1860-1960, the title of a major survey of the museum's artworks omits part of its content. To celebrate its fiftieth anniversary, the Hirshhorn is not only providing a review of a century of art history through 270 of its masterpieces, it offers also a selection of paintings and photographs from nineteen contemporary artists, strategically spread throughout the seven galleries. Each work is displayed on colored walls to call for attention and is accompanied by a  text introducing the artists, almost half of them women.     

 You cannot miss the sculpture of Nicolas Party at the entrance. The massive, towering bright head of a humanoid possibly born from a computer could be replicated ad infinitum. Emotionless, of garish colors, simply called Head (2018-2022), the sculpture made me long for Party's installation Draw the Curtain (2021) wrapped around the building during its renovations. In keeping with bright colors, Cobalt Blue Dress (2020) from Amoako Boafo, artist-in-residence at the Rubell in 2019, is hung side by side with a portrait Mrs. Kate A. Moore (1884) from John Singer Sargent. The provocative setting allows to compare the fresh simplicity of Boafo's anonymous sitter to the haughty socialite, highlighting the changes in society. 

The next featured artists are photographers, each paired with a painter. The result can be baffling. Per the wall text, an abstract  photographic assemblage from David Alekhuogie about Black Lives Matter connects him to "a long history of Modernist painting" and in particular to a bird's eye view of the Eiffel Tower from Robert Delaunay. In keeping with these questionable associations, we find Barbara Kasten linked to the constructivist movement, Paul Pfeiffer with George Bellows and farther the painter Nathaniel Mary Quinn next to Picasso. Catherine Opie's series about the inauguration of President Obama would suggest that she is a photojournalist. She is best represented by her raw, sometimes difficult to look at intimate photographs of herself or outcasts. Her photographs are matched with a painting from Childe Assam commemorating the first anniversary of US entry into WWI. In gallery 5 labelled "Aftershocks" about post-war artists, Rashid Johnson's monochrome abstract Anxious Red Painting "August 18th" (2020) is deemed "stylistically having much in common with that of Jean Dubuffet". Why not Cy Twombly's red scribbles? 

Size matters. The large multimedia piece from Loie Hollowell overshadows a delicate pastel from Georgia O'Keeffe, less than a quarter of its size. Colors matter. The hues of  Ann Pibal's geometric abstract acrylic on aluminum panel "build on ...Piet Mondrian and other de Stijl artists" are skewed by the orange paint of the wall which transforms a piece of art into a decorative accessory worthy of an interior design magazine. The unfortunate effect of the colored walls is that it undermines the works like the dreamy rococo-inspired scene from Flora Yukhnovich or the moon like landscape from Torkwase Dyson. 

Untitled #12 (The Marsh) (2017), a gelatin silver photograph from Davoud Bey is more than it seems. At first a large (5-foot-wide) reflecting black surface (on an orange wall), the photograph reveals a quiet body of water surrounded by hazy brushes under a moonless sky when coming closer. Immersed in the night landscape, one can imagine the terrifying journey of the enslaved persons travelling the Underground Railroad under the cover of darkness. Stepping back, I saw my own fading shadow and the work turned into a memento mori. Looking at the powerful piece I could not find its "dialogue with Arthur Dove and Marsden Hartley". The only sculpture from contemporary artists in the galleries Selfportrait nude descending a staircase at the Raval (2012) is a conceptual work from the Mexican artist Abraham Cruzvillegas featuring a ladder to nowhere made of discarded material matched with a small collotype reproduction of the famous painting from Marcel Duchamp. Zao Wou-ki, Franz Kline and Torkwase Dyson favor black. Bird and Lava #4 (2021) from the latter is a  view of a lunar landscape crossed by floating strokes of black paint attached to short threadlike white tails and a tiny orange dot at the bottom, like a spark. The rounded canvas (8 feet in diameter) feels like looking through a telescope. The tondo reveals the skills of the artist who can create at once a meditative and narrative piece through her mastering of abstract and conceptual art.

 I may have missed a few artists, but like tasting too many wines, it becomes difficult to stay focused on each one. Curators are supposed to help us go through the maze of the exhibition and the attempt to single out contemporary artists by the colors of the walls is distracting at best. The location of their works, the comments on the wall texts, are constant reminders of the influence of past trailblazers. What makes them successful contemporary artists is that, after digesting centuries of art history, they refresh techniques and themes, own them, and make them relevant to today's world.

Should we be reminded of the influence of prehistoric cave paintings on Picasso each time we look at his bulls? 

photographs by the author:

Torkwase Dyson "Bird and Lava #04" (2021)

David Alekhuogie "34.0113°N, 118.3358°W, Crenshaw and Martin Luther King Drive" (2021)/ Robert Delaunay "Eiffel Tower and Gardens, Champ de Mars" (1922)

Loie Hollowell "Boob Wheel" (2019)/ Georgia O'Keeffe "Goat's Horn with Red (1945)

Flora Yukhnovich "Lipstick, Lip Gloss, Hickeys Too" (2022)

Highlights at Hirshhorn

 

Hirshhorn Museum is celebrating its fiftieth anniversary with a landmark exhibition of works from its permanent collection spanning one hundred years. Revolutions: Art from the Hirshhorn Collection, 1860-1960 assembles two hundred and eight art works selected among the more than thirteen thousand pieces mostly acquired through the bequest from the entrepreneur and avid art collector Joseph H. Hirshhorn, a migrant from Latvia. Of the one hundred and seventeen artists represented, nineteen are contemporary and emerging, underlining the ongoing mission of the museum focused on the acquisition of late-twentieth century and contemporary art while seeking diversity with the inclusion of women and nonbinary artists. The title of the year-long exhibition hints to the rapidly evolving political and cultural landscapes of the period reflected through a selection of pivotal works. The second story of the circular building is a fitting venue for the challenging exhibition organized in seven sections each introduced by a wall text.

Head  (2018-2022), a garish figurative sculpture from the Swiss contemporary artist Nicolas Party is set like a sentinel at the entrance and the show starts on a rousing sight, two portraits side by side. Mrs. Kate A. Moore (1884) from John Singer Sargent, a commission, features the Parisian socialite  while Cobalt Blue Dress (2020) from the Ghanaian artist Amoako Boafo, one of his friends. The purposely provocative display triggers thoughts about the very distinct techniques of the figurative paintings and furthermore about status, power, beauty,... In the glass cabinet across, works from renown artists like Henri Matisse, Auguste Rodin, Pablo Picasso, illustrate the transition from figurative to abstract in sculpture. Well-known pieces from Constantin Brâncuși, "the patriarch of modern sculpture" who famously stated in 1927 "Art- There still hasn't been any art- art is just beginning", are prominently displayed. The show goes on at a dizzying pace with a succession of mostly paintings and a few photographs covering the walls, and cabinets in the center for the sculptures sometimes hanging from the ceiling (i.e. Calder). All the heavyweights are represented in the galleries labelled "Modern Beginnings", "Abstraction and Construction", "Vital Forms": Pablo Picasso, Joan Miró, Gabriele Münter, Winslow Homer, Wassily Kandinsky, Marsden Hartley,... straddling two continents from Europe to America, in mainly chronological order with a futile attempt at arranging them by movements. Futurism with Gino Severini, orphism Robert and Sonia Delaunay, surrealism Max Ernst, figurative, abstract, the visit soon becomes a blurred succession of works of art. 

A visual overload hit me when I reached the fourth gallery introduced by a vague and ambiguous title "Local Visions". Regional artists? Washington color school? Starting with a modestly sized painting from Georgia O'Keeffe, the collection of works gives a glimpse into a prolific time in American art. Thanks to the gallerist and photographer Alfred Stieglitz, Georgia O'Keeffe who later became his wife had her first exhibition at 291, the famous gallery, so did Marsden Hartley. His portrait of a hunky bather and a landscape of Mt. Katahdin in 1941 sum up his later years spent in Maine (a painting of his German years is found in Gallery 2). Of course, Arthur Dove and Milton Avery, the "American Matisse", also promoted by Stieglitz are included in this section which concentrates on American Modernism. Even a Mexican artist, Rufino Tamayo, who was shunned in his country for his political leaning, became acquainted with the group and gained fame in New York City then in Mexico. The sculptor David Smith was a friend of Avery and nine of his sculptures including the rustic monochrome red Agricola I (1951-1952) are shown with two of Dorothy Dehner's, his wife. A quintessential portrait from Alice Neel is almost overlooked among the busy display. 291 became a beacon of avant-gardism for European and American artists, and if all the above names are found in history books, outsiders like Grandma Moses and Horace Pippin are usually discovered at the occasion of a museum's visit. The quint scene from Moses contrasts with Pippin's who did not get to see Paris and depicts a nightmarish episode of the war in the French trenches. Jacob Lawrence is a story teller with four lively tableaux about parks, Harlem, a watch maker or a game of pool. His works animate the walls leading to Lorie Anderson's site specific installation, unavoidable although not part of the exhibition.

On the other side, the art history lesson continues with a significant display of fragile pieces from Jean Dubuffet set in a glass cabinet next to six portraits from Willem de Kooning made in the late fifties and early sixties. This time the featured sculptor is Alberto Giacometti and his sculptures surrounded by paintings from Jackson Pollock and less known Janet Sobel are taking over the room. Abstract expressionism is in full swing in the next gallery with Lee Krasner, Helen Frankenthaler, Joan Mitchell and their male peers, Hans Hofmann, Morris Louis , Barnett Newman, Franz Kline. It is fitting to find paintings from the "post-expressionists" Cy Twombly, Jaspers Jones and Robert Rauschenberg together in the last gallery as their professional and romantic life intertwined.

At the end of the visit, in awe, replete with images, I could not think. However with some hindsight, it seems that the cursory wall texts are barely adequate for an exhibition of this scope and duration. In view of the rich collection, could the works be rotated at least every six months? The statement on the museum's website: "Together, these gifts constitute one of the most important collections of post-war European and American art in the world. Today the Hirshhorn collection comprises more than13,130 artworks.", makes it frustrating to see so little of so much. 

One more thing, it seemed to be a cool idea to embed the works of nineteen emerging and contemporary artists, however it quickly became a source of confusion and distraction in the already busy show.

Anyway, it is another story... (next post)      

                                                     

  

photographs by the author:

-Milton Avery "Sally and Sara", 1947

-Hans Hofmann "Flowering Swamp", 1957

-Amoako Boafo "Cobald Blue Dress", 2020 and John Singer Sargent "Mrs. Kate A. Moore", 1884

Doom and Gloom, German Expressionism and Neos at the NGA

 

German expressionism evokes blue horses, lavish nudes in natural settings, portraits revealing deep emotions- in short, a liberation from the corsets of academic art.  During the period 1900-1930, political turmoil, rumbles of war, crushed dreams of a lower class abandoned by the industrial revolution, threats from infectious diseases, contributed to a state of angst reverberating through the art world. It is also a time of inner self-discovery spearheaded by Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis and Karl Jung, his younger disciple. The Anxious Eye: German Expressionism and Its Legacy at the National Gallery of Art assembles more than one hundred works created from 1908 to 1921, selected from its permanent collection. The display of mainly prints reflects a renewed interest for the cheaper and faster process involved in their production. It also features drawings, two sculptures and illustrated books. The small size of the works allows for a rich show organized by themes, set in four galleries of the West building.

The self-portraits of Heckel and Kirshner introduce two of the founding artists of Die Brücke, an art movement established in 1905 in Dresden, heavily influenced by Munch from Norway and the Belgian Ensor. Their harsh features are barely soften by colors for Heckel or the subtle blurriness of crayon for Kirshner. The intense gaze of Max Beckmann reveals his profound sadness conveyed through deep frowns and drooping corners of the mouth. For Käthe Kollwitz, self-portraits are "psychological milestones" and if she drew more than fifty of them, she is well known for her realistic depiction of the proletariat. She found her inspiration in war, starvation, poverty, and in 1910, she represents herself with a hand on her forehead, lost in mournful inner thoughts. Did she have a premonition of the tragedies to come? She lost a son in WWI and a grandson in WWII as the world fell apart. In two woodcuts made in the twenties she adopts a tragic expression, and in 1933 draws a serene charcoal version in profile where she appears to forget her torments, absorbed by her art. The hellish portrait of Walter Gramatté who volunteered for the front at seventeen years old, could illustrate one of the Grimm's tales. The expression of fright in The Great Anxiety (1918) reflects a blood curling vision most likely due to the horrors he witnessed during the war. Portraiture, the first part of the exhibition assembles twenty five works and goes on with portraits of luminaries or anonymous sitters. Death, violence, depravity, are feeding the artists' inspiration and works from well-known artists like George Grosz (Attack, 1915) or Otto Dix (Dance of Death Anno 17, 1924) are found next to those of the elder Christian Rohlfs (The Prisoner, 1918) or lesser known Paul Gangolf (Prostitute on Cocaine, 1925). Sorrow, 1914, a grayish allegory from Egon Schiele is a fitting conclusion for this chilling first part as a last sweeping glance fails to reveal a smile among the portraits.  

Moving on, Nature and Spirituality might feature soothing landscapes, maybe even a blue sky?  Two Pietàs (Max Oppenheimer and Georg Ehrlich), Christ Bearing the Cross (1916) and The Fall of Man (1919), from Lovis Corinth, and other religious themed prints feature more harrowing scenes of suffering, suggesting a redeeming spiritual value to humanity's misery. Close by the mountains from Kirchner or the fishing steamer from Emil Nolde appear irrelevant in the midst of a tormented world while the sunrise from Heckel is filled with bad omens. Communion with nature implies nudity, and nudes are plentiful in two of the galleries. Set in primal surroundings, forests, beaches, the models are caught in playful or more contemplative activities. Kirchner is well represented so are Mueller, Pechstein and Heckel. Angular, sharp lines, sickly yellowish colors, the portraits-caricatures reflect the technique of the German expressionists, transforming the Arcadian settings into depressing sights. The erotic nude from the Austrian Egon Schiele stands out with its generous shapes and decaying flesh. Against this somber background, a carefree and permissive atmosphere floated in some circles, evoked in two lithographs about dance and cabarets. The scantily clad dancer in Tänzerin (1913) from Nolde refers to black performers favored by a white bourgeois audience looking for a steamy entertainment.

Colors and size of the seventeen works in the last gallery contrast with the mostly black and white display so far. A dozen artists, from various backgrounds and continents have been selected and their works cover about seventy years, from the 1950's until today. They have little in common and never met, but are assembled under the theme: German Expressionism Reimagined. If the works from Georg Baselitz and A. R. Penk both Germans relate to neo-expressionism, a loosely defined international movement born in the 1980s, it is odd to find David Driskell's  self-portrait inspired by "African art but as seen through the lens of ancestral legacy rather than European colonialism" (wall text). On the American side, Leonard Baskin with The Hydrogen Man (1954) belongs to the list of neo-expressionist artists. His self-portrait is hung between Shikō Munakata, a printmaker inspired by Van Gogh, Buddhism and Japanese folk art, and a woodcut from Kerry James Marshall. One can question the inclusion of Sam Francis considered an abstract expressionist painter or the choice of a monochrome red abstract screen print from Rachid Johnson about COVID, BLM and George Floyd, according to the press release. Figurative is one of the hallmark of neo expressionism, in reaction to abstract.  The three women selected for the show, Miriam Beerman, Nicole Eisenman and Orit Hofshi meet the neo expressionism criteria, from technique to subject. All the works reflect angst, a few of them are related to German expressionism. 

The ambitious goal of  the exhibition as stated by Kaywin Feldman, director of the National Gallery of Art is "to invite visitors to consider the striking parallels between the intensity of human emotion and experience conveyed in the work of the German expressionists during a transformational historic period in the early 20th century and current responses to the cultural and political shifts taking place in our world today." The result is a superficial review of German expressionism through prints. The wall texts give little information about the political context or the influence of Die Brücke which is not even mentioned. For decades, the poorly understood movement in France and even America was labelled as "une erreur gothico-teutonique" (a gothico-teutonic mistake). The sweeping statements erode history especially art history and imply that expressionism was invented by German artists. The means of conveying inner emotions in an expressionistic way is independent of time. The wall texts are cursory and offer little information about the artists who might not be well known by some visitors, missing the educational mission of the museum. The exhibition leaves a chilling message: a look at the past does not forebode well for the future. 

                                                

photographs by the author:

Erich Heckel "Portrait of a Man (Self-Portrait)", 1919

Otto Mueller "Two Bathers", c. 1920

Leonard Baskin "The Hydrogen Man", 1954

Emil Nolde "Dancer", 1913 

Beauty and Happiness, Alma Thomas

 

The artist's name is seldom found in history books, if at all. Following her retirement from teaching art, at the age of sixty, Alma Thomas veered from a figurative practice to an abstract style that defies time and classification. A long-time resident of Washington, D.C., she has been associated with the Washington Color School. A Black woman in an art world dominated by Abstract Expressionist white males, she did not seek fame and also stayed away from her peers' activism during the civil rights movement. She was honored when in 1972 at the age of eighty-one she had a solo exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art, a first for an African-American woman. Over the past decades, she has gained recognition  locally in D.C. where her paintings can be seen at The Phillips Collection or the Hirshhorn. They are also included in the permanent collections of institutions like The Art Institute of Chicago, the Museum of Modern Art or the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Composing Color: Paintings by Alma Thomas is the latest exhibition of her work taking place at the Smithsonian American Museum of Art which "holds the largest public collection of Thomas's works in the world". About thirty of her paintings are on display for the show dedicated to her late years, starting in the sixties.

The Patent Office building, oldest public construction in Washington, now holds the Smithsonian American Art Museum and the National Portrait Gallery. The wide corridors leading to the galleries are lined up with paintings and on the second floor, two works from Alma Thomas are an irresistible call to view the show. Resurrection (1966), a rather small sized square painting belongs to the White House's collection and was prominently displayed during the Obama administration. Centered on a pale green orb, an explosion of colors going through the gamut of the color wheel radiates in circles, from a cold blue to a sunny yellow trying to spill beyond the canvas. On the other side, Atmospheric Effects I (1970) is a calming blue field interrupted by small bands of burning red and yellow and a few notes of tranquil green. The paint drips at the bottom as if the work is still in progress, evoking the ever-changing state of nature.

Space, the first theme reflects Thomas's interest in technology, science, and the Apollo mission she watched on television, which provided photographs of the Earth from space inspiring the artist for Snoopy-Early Sun Display on Earth (1970) and Blast Off made the same year, a painting which now belongs to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. Antares (1972), a monochrome rendition of the bright star, shimmers due to the innumerable red thick strokes aligned in vertical stripes on the white canvas. The biggest piece in this room, The Eclipse (1970), is built with the same pattern than Renaissance including the color scheme. The story of the rare and fleeting event is told with an off-centered dark orb, the moon, moving across the canvas.

Upon entering the next room labelled Nature and Earth, I felt overcome by joy. For her series about nature, the artist revisited her childhood's memories or just looked at her backyard through the window of her kitchen-studio. Rows of horizontal lines of colored patches for Light Blue Nursery, 1968, or vertical white lines on a green background for  Snow Reflections on Pond, 1973, Thomas adopts the same technique for the abstract paintings about nature, yet they generate different emotions, one of happiness, the other of melancholy. Fall Begins,1976 or Autumn Leaves Fluttering in the Breeze, 1973, a symphony of reds or oranges, are like a last hurrah before winter. Spring Grass, 1973, a monochrome bright green is all about patterns built with interwoven brisk short strokes of paint on the white canvas. The result is so fresh that we can smell the grass. While surrounded by the paintings, distillate of nature, we can hear melodies, sample perfumes, and feel the warmth or the coolness of the seasons. 

The titles of the five paintings assembled in the third room allude to music, a fundamental component of Thomas's practice. Red Sunset: Old Pond Concerto (1972), is found with late works like Untitled (Music Series) (1978), made the year of her death. The display allows to follow her experimentations, introducing what she called "hieroglyphs" like in Grassy Melodic Songs (1976). Her lively works do not reflect her physical decline in her late years and Red Azaleas Singing and Dancing Rock and Roll Music (1978) found in the modern and contemporary art galleries on the third floor, created for her last solo show, is a testimony of the artist's relentless energy.

An art teacher for decades, Alma Thomas was most likely very well versed in the theories about colors, Bauhaus, synesthesia in art, and more. She grew up with music, nature, and of curious mind, stayed abreast of scientific discoveries. She was not engaged in activism, her mission was a search for beauty and happiness. Lost in the colors and rhythms of the paintings, we connect with her as she generously shares a primitive simple pleasure of being alive and answers to our questions:  What is beauty? What is happiness? 

Alma Thomas's reply makes her work defy time and classification: “Through color, I have sought to concentrate on beauty and happiness, rather than on man’s inhumanity to man.” 

                                                       

photographs by the author:

"The Eclipse", 1970

"Untitled (Music Series), 1978

display Nature and Earth

Rapping on canvas, Alexandre Diop

 

2022 was a big year for Alexandre Diop, the Franco-Senegalese artist now living in Vienna, Austria. Under the mentorship of Kehinde Wiley, his first exhibition in Paris "La prochaine fois, le feu" opened during the art fair Paris+ by Art Basel, in October. Following a four-month-long residency at the Rubell Museum Miami at the beginning of the year, he filled the venue with his work for a solo show in December, just in time for Art Basel Miami Beach. Presently, five of his "roaring monumental canvasses" are on view at the Rubell Museum DC, displayed in the vast luminous foyer at the entrance of the building, a renovated high school, part of a project aimed at revitalizing the neighborhood. 

First impressions are lasting. Surrounded by Diop's works I remember being overwhelmed by the dense imagery filling the vast space. I could not figure out the subject of the works other than it seemed epic, and I got closer  to Mondo Carne (2022). The huge painting (103x191 in.) describes an apocalyptic world through gruesome scenes featuring flailed bodies, skulls, screaming, disfigured faces... a pile of human misery.  One cannot avoid thinking of Basquiat when looking at the painting which also includes barely legible writing in French meaning "stop this masquerade, there is enough to eat for everyone" (according to the wall text). The disturbing picture we are looking at seems from another time or another world, and yet, is inspired by the daily struggle of entire populations to survive, as "you enjoy your $2-dollar extra shot in your venti Starbucks Coffee". Made with traditional oil paint, oil stick, pastel, acrylic, charcoal, gouache on canvas, the raw, visceral composition is a violent, gruesome start to the show. 

L'incroyable Traversée d'Abdoulaye Le Grand, Troisième de la Lignée (The Incredible Crossing of Abdoulaye the Great, Third in Line to the Throne), 2022, tells the mythical story of Abdoulaye, obviously the artist. Initially a scenario for a movie,  the fable relates the journey of the hero who interacts with different characters, some good, others bad. Black and white, good and bad, a crossing between two worlds alludes to the river Styx of the Greek mythology. Cerberus becomes a monster tamed by Abdoulaye riding the beast. The story built with themes embedded in our psyche unfolds from left to right and the white background of the triptych allows the silhouettes of the personages to stand out in lively postures. Looking at the details of the elaborate graffiti-like composition reveals the very personal technique of the artist who arranges refuses found in the streets, dumps and various indescribable places, using hammers and staplers to tack them to the wooden canvas. 

Diop starts gathering material like a sculptor and produces scenes worthy of a painter like the next triptych, a colorful composition titled L'Histoire du Monde-Le Temps et l'Espace (The History of the World-Time and Space), 2022. The ambitious subject is tackled with gusto by the artist who manages to add a dash of  humor. If Eve, the temptress and the cause of our downfall is present, the monkey on the lower right takes over the work about the past. The wise observer has a pensive gaze and a sardonic grin as he scratches his head. This is the miracle of art: how to render such an insightful expression with pieces of colored paper. The word "loco" nearby, like in a cartoon, conveys his thoughts as he looks at the history of mankind. The location for the present is in Miami as per an upside down banner on top of the second panel. The claustrophobic accumulation of images, scribbles, dribbles, snippets of advertisements, with a partly decomposed portrait of Warhol (at least his wig), alludes to a confused, stressful world filled with anxiety. A lost breasted-man occupies most of the third tableau about the  future as thriving monkeys keep watching the world led by cartels and its final apocalypse.

 Following these visionary, mythic, violent works, the two nudes side by side on the facing wall feel out of place. Honi soit qui mal y pense (Shame be (to him) who thinks evil of it), 2022 and Le Mensonge d'État (The Lie of the State), 2021 are replicas (Diop's style) respectively of the famous Grande Odalisque (1814) from Ingres and Olympia (1863-1865) from Édouart Manet. Every detail is carefully reproduced: fan, blue drapery, long spine, elongated arm. The face appears to be a mask with the same detached expression. Idem for Olympia and her erotic posture, the orchid in the hair, the black servant. I could not find the cat, and the bunch of flowers is replaced by a text "Cheikh Anta Diop, Civilisation ou Barbarie". It refers to the Senegalese historian, anthropologist , physicist and politician with the same surname than the artist. Looking carefully to each portrait, there are more scribbled messages. To quote the artist about his works: "there’s really a lot for me to talk about every time I discuss these pieces".  

Not a painting, not a sculpture, not a tapestry, not a graffiti, not a bas-relief, ... Diop has mastered a unique technique, using objects as his palette, hammers and staplers as his brushes. He also sometimes leaves his own blood and spit as he works fast and furiously on his canvasses. The scion of an ancestral Senegalese family, he has a vision of history mixed with an anti-establishment view permeating through his work. Not quite thirty years old, the artist is looking forward to a bright future, and has many projects and ideas: "There are so many things I want to do. For me, this is really just the beginning of my career. I want to develop and not repeat the same things...I think the act of painting or sculpture is to recreate [oneself] as a human... It’s also not always about art, it’s also about life. What I feel. What I see." The future will tell what is next for the multidisciplinary artist full of promises. Hopefully he does not get too close to the fire and burn his wings, like Icarus who melted his getting to close to the sun. 

photographs by the author:

Mondo Carne (2022)

L'Histoire du Monde-Le Temps et l'Espace (The History of the World-Time and Space) detail, 2022

Honi soit qui mal y pense (Shame be (to him) who thinks evil of it), 2022

Rothko, Known and Unknown

 

Two major exhibitions recently opened, ending the year on a high note: Mark Rothko a retrospective at the Fondation Louis Vuitton in Paris and Mark Rothko: Paintings on Paper  at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. Both organized in chronological order gather more than one hundred paintings each, some of them rarely seen, selected from renown institutions like the The Phillips Collection, the National Gallery of Art or the Tate, and from private collections. Since my memorable encounter with the artist's work at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston in 2015, I thought Rothko had no secrets for me. My peregrinations allowed me to visit both shows which left me dazzled by the richness of their content.

It would be overreaching and repetitious for me to discuss Rothko's work, subject of numerous analysis by famous art critics and historians, likewise to write a review of the flawless exhibitions organized by experts and top curators. I prefer to look back at my encounter with the paintings of the famous abstract expressionist artist and to assess what resonates within me. To "see" Rothko, I take advice from Michael Findlay who quotes the poet Wallace Stevens in his book Seeing Slowly: Looking at Modern Art in the chapter "Ignorance Is Knowledge?":

                           You must become an ignorant man again

                           And see the sun with an ignorant eye

                           And see it clearly in the idea of it.    

In preparation for my visit, I adopted some sort of mental vacuity to receive the full impact of the paintings. It is a solitary, personal endeavor. I think that Rothko would agree.  

Starting in Paris, I was struck by a self-portrait made in 1936 near the entrance. The thirty-three-year-old artist, somber and enigmatic, eyes hidden behind dark glasses, appears to scrutinize the viewer. Other than this unsettling painting, Rothko's portraits are forgettable as confirmed a few weeks later looking at his works on paper. The figurative urban scenes of the 30's are followed by the often ignored paintings from the early 40's, foundations of his practice. In search of a universal "new myth" he incorporates motives from Greek mythology, then moves to surrealistic dreamscapes as he slowly veers to abstraction with his "Multiforms" until shapes become simple colored blocks floating on limitless monochrome backgrounds filling vertical canvasses. Rothko's practice reaches its acme in the 50's and the display of such a great number of works from the period is enthralling. Being surrounded by the paintings radiating in the semi-darkness is a unique experience. Each of them stirs deep emotions through a gamut of moody blues, elating yellows, oranges, reds, a symphony of colors mostly joyous until we reach the display of  darker paintings introducing black, wine color, and a room filled with the Seagram Murals travelling from the Tate Modern in London, followed by several "Blackforms". Rothko's attempt to make black glow in the dark to let paintings "generate their own light", a rehearsal for the Rothko Chapel at The Menil Collection, engenders the same feeling of gloom and doom that besets me following my visits at the chapel itself in Houston. Braving a line of visitors, I spent a few minutes in the small gallery in which the Rothko Room from The Phillips Collection is recreated minus one painting. As a frequent visitor of the venue in D.C., I have been able to contemplate the paintings in total serenity time and again. On the highest floor, a unique display assembles iconic sculptures from Giacometti and Rothko's late acrylic paintings (1969-1970) from the Black and Grey series, highlighting the influence of Giacometti's works on the painter. I could not recall seeing these before, but if I had, the uninspired grayish masses under flat black rectangles did not catch my attention. As a final note, three vibrant paintings made in 1967 in the small adjacent gallery remind us that Rothko never renounced the use of colors in his practice. 

Back in Washington, I could not miss the exhibition at the National Gallery even as I thought it might be redundant or worse, disappointing. It was full of surprises. With about a dozen paintings per room, the show unfolds in the same chronological order starting with figurative landscapes, portraits and nudes, providing a glimpse in the nascent artist's career. The wall texts add moving details about Rothko's life and the poor response to his works at the time. The next two rooms are a journey into the artist's surrealist period through a succession of paintings from the mid-40's I had never seen before. Each of them tells a story born from deep connections to mythology, prehistory, a primal world in which the artist searches for a new myth to reach spirituality. I spent some time looking at the biomorphic shapes floating in soft watery colors, savoring their content and the delicate brush strokes. Slowly, the paintings undergo some kind of purification as they become more abstract and the next works mirror those on canvas from the 50's, although smaller in size precluding a total immersion in the landscapes of colors. As we progress, the tones get darker and on the next floor, we reach the Brown and Grays series on paper echoing the Black and Grey series on canvas. Nearby, black paintings slowly appear to glow revealing drips of luminescent paint. The effect is working this time, possibly due to a careful lighting? Close by, in a separate space, a life size photograph of Rothko walking toward a huge easel gives a concrete idea of the painter's physical labor, and a few unfinished paintings on paper reveal Rothko's technique. Moving on, the last room is another delightful surprise, "an ethereal suite of paintings on paper with soft, cloudlike edges surrounded by margins of pale paper". The wall text gives a perfect description of the paintings, evoking the soft colors of the surrealist period. These late works, contemporary to his Brown and Grays series, close the show on a ravishing note.

"Why paint at all?" The answer is found in these two landmark exhibitions giving an in depth look at the path of Rothko's practice, reflection of his inner and most private life. The artist, a master of colors did not want to be called a colorist. Painting for him is not about beautiful hues, but is a catharsis in his search for the spiritual and his interest in "expressing basic human emotions". We can participate to the artist's journey as he arises a primitive angst common to all of us and translates the unspeakable through his art. A quote from Robert Rosenblum about the abstract sublime seems very appropriate: "These infinite, glowing voids carry us beyond reason to the Sublime; we can only submit to them in an act of faith and let ourselves be absorbed into their radiant depths."

Rothko was concerned about his legacy: "A painting lives by companionship, expending and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer. It dies by the same token." The unavoidable crowd of selfie takers somewhat spoils the visit, and the images of Rothko's paintings on the phone screens do not allow to "look and see". Everyone recognizes "a Rothko" and moves on. 

Just a reminder that we are responsible for the artist's legacy as the two exhibitions resonate well beyond the visit. 

                                        

photographs by the author:

1-"Slow Swirl at the Edge of the Sea", 1944 (Fondation Louis Vuitton)

2-"Untitled", 1948 (National Gallery of Art)

3-"Blue, Yellow, Green on Red", 1954 (Fondation Louis Vuitton)

4-"Untitled (Forest Interior)", 1933 (National Gallery of Art)