My appreciation of art spans many centuries. I’ve marvelled at the Greco-Romano art of the classical world; contemplated frescoes adorning Byzantine monasteries and churches in Turkey, Armenia and Cyprus; spent hours in galleries musing over paintings from the Medieval and Renaissance periods, through the eras of Baroque, Neoclassicism and Romanticism to late nineteenth-century Impressionism and on to…well to be honest, when we hit the twentieth century, my enthusiasm starts to wane. Sure, Art Deco was a bona fide, aesthetically pleasing and innovative art movement, and Cubism had its place, but when I start to consider Surrealism, Minimalism and Abstract Expressionism, I’m less impressed.
Sure, sure: it’s eminently possible to sit and enjoy a monumental and vibrant Jackson Pollock canvas in New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art — and I have done — and there will always be exceptional and intriguing art to be found throughout the twentieth century. But my contention is that overall these tend to be outliers, and that in amongst the gems there is a broad seam of distinctly uncaptivating art. You can enjoy a Mark Rothko but can you really be captivated by it? I can’t. And don’t get me started on the truly modern “art” of the last four decades, the likes of Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin, the Chapman Brothers, Martin Creed et al…please!
Having said that, I’m going to give a free pass to one of the head honchos of Abstract Expressionism, the Russian painter and art theorist Wassily Kandinsky (1866–1944). With Kandinsky I can embrace the new century vibe and be inspired by all that art theory behind colour and form. Kandinsky wrote voluminously about art theory: his writing in The Blue Rider Almanac and the 1910 treatise On the Spiritual in Art were bold affirmations that all forms of art can reach a level of spirituality. He founded the short-lived but influential Blue Rider group (Der Blaue Reiter) with like-minded artists such as August Macke, Franz Marc, and Albert Bloch, who experimented boldly with colour, lines and form, and gave priority to spontaneity and improvisation.
Kandinsky’s paintings are expressive explosions of colours, lines and shapes that have an extraordinary force and musical quality about them. Kandinsky recognised that there were important connections between music and abstract art: music is abstract by nature and does not try to represent the exterior world but instead expresses the immediate inner feelings of the soul. That is why Kandinsky referred to his works as “compositions”. I get it. I seem to remember having this composition — 1925’s Yellow-Red-Blue (Gelb-Rot-Blau) — on my kitchen wall in the nineties, and, to extend the musical metaphor, I find it rather jazzy!
Kandinsky and Miro 2 of my favourites. (Along with Lempika). I have tried to imitate them with some digital art. But once when I was volunteering at the art gallery I got into discussion with a family about how long it takes to sit and appreciate a work of art. I recounted an art critics story of how he had sat in front of a Rothko at the MMA every day for an hour for a month before truly ‘getting’ it. The teenager said “sounds good to me, I think I’ll start here’. He sat down and fixated a work in front of him (to the slight annoyance of his mother!)
I can’t imagine that scenario of suddenly “getting” a Rothko after hours of contemplation — kind of reminds me of the old Zen discipline of contemplating on the “sound of one hand clapping”!
Funny you mention Tamara Lempicka as one of your favourites: I concur, I wrote about her here: https://www.occasionalglimpses.com/tamara-de-lempickas-young-lady-with-gloves-1930/