Category: Exhibitions
Celebrating in Stijl
David Giles | March 15, 2010 | 00:04 | Exhibitions | No comments

VAN DOESBERG & THE INTERNATIONAL AVANT-GARDE: CONSTRUCTING A NEW WORLD, Tate Modern, London

Theo van Doesberg has never been given quite as much credit as he deserves in the history of modern art. Piet Mondrian is really the star of the De Stijl era – largely, I suspect, because he moved to America during the war – but it was van D that edited the magazine, and whose uncompromising principles characterised the movement. And it was van D who took abstract art out of the gallery into the everyday social world, in the form of architectural design and printing typeface, and who also dabbled in other arts such as poetry.

All these extensions of De Stijl are captured in this excellent exhibition, one of the best in London in recent years. Over ten galleries take us through the various stages of van D’s artistic career, from his early Kandinsky-inspired paintings to his Art Concret phase shortly before his death in 1931. On the way it takes in his surprising collaborations with the Dada group, the Bauhaus school, and creative figures working in other media such as film and furniture design.

Naturally, the bulk of the exhibits on display are paintings; plenty of van Doesberg’s own compositions (No. 11 on the left), a few Mondrians and Huszárs, and, most interesting of all, van der Leck’s Leaving The Factory, a model example of the De Stijl principle of reducing a scene to its basic elements. It’s not obviously a painting of workers leaving a factory (don’t even begin to think Lowry here), but given the concept, the ostensibly abstract shapes start making sense. It was precisely this type of representation that van Doesberg broke away from eventually, arguing for a rigidly geometric approach, in which the shapes stood only for themselves. He made a lifelong habit of forging fruitful collaborations and then breaking them through his refusal to compromise. But, rather than just ploughing a solitary furrow, he just moved on, and found someone else to work with, however unlikely.

Indeed, it’s in the unlikely collaborations that the exhibition’s most striking exhibits emanate. The original typefaces, cover art and letterheads from De Stijl are on display, in which the geometric principles of lettering are taken to such extremes as to render them virtually unreadable. Along with original prints in Dutch and French of some of the 70-odd issues published between 1917 and 1928, there are original prints of Mécano, the Dadaist magazine that van D founded in the early 1920s, and various posters and other prints produced using the same graphic designs (on the right, the cover of a public housing portfolio by Huszár, Wils and Berlage fom the Hague Arts Circle, 1919).

And then there’s the furniture: the classic Red-Blue chair, painted in the De Stijl primary colours after the architect and furniture designer Gerrit Rietveld joined the group in 1918. How many of these are knocking around is hard to say, but this seems to be the original, on loan from the Utrecht Centraal Museum. Also on show is a copy of Rietveld’s classic buffet, or sideboard, which van D compared to a Mondrian painting, and one of his famous hanging lamps.

There are also some short films of van D’s collaborations with architects – his crossword-puzzle tiles for the Noordwijkerhout (a holiday home for poor children by the North Sea), and doors and windows for a terrace of houses in Friesland – and various designs for public buildings, including a striking shopping arcade in the Hague. Unfortunately many of van D’s colour schemes were short-lived, painted over within a year by disgruntled residents, but lately, more sympathetic owners have since restored some of them to their original state.

Perhaps most surprising of all is van Doesburg’s association with the Dada group. Several Dada pieces on display lack obvious reference to van D’s work, but there is a reconstruction of Huszár’s Mechanical Dancing Figure (1920), a hinged puppet that performed at Dada soirées given by van D and others in Dutch cities, often accompanied by Mrs.Van D, a professional musician, on piano. Light projected from behind was filtered through red and green transparent slides to create what van D referred to as ‘a kind of kinetic painting’. We can see something similar in a film by Werner Graeff, in which geometric shapes flash across the screen like a Mondrian canvas come to life.

And the rest is history: it’s from here that modern art, and contemporary art, take their cues. Not only did van Doesberg and his collaborators change the course of art history, but they changed the way the world appears. On my way back to Waterloo station, I pass a row of houses with red and blue doors, fiercely geometric windows, not a curve in sight.

Infantas on the run
David Giles | February 26, 2010 | 13:11 | Exhibitions, statues | No comments

STATUE OF THE WEEK

Las Meninas, La Rambla, Barcelona

 This isn’t really a statue as such, because it’s gone…these bronze ladies-in-waiting, modelled on the Infantas Margarita and Maria Teresa from Velázquez’s famous canvas of the same name, gave one final curtsy and left La Rambla shortly after the picture was taken back in May 2008. Part of an exhibition by US-based Spanish artist Manolo Valdés to bring art to the street, they seem to be making their way slowly around Europe: the most recent sighting of them is in a park in The Hague…

Drip, drip, splat!
David Giles | February 15, 2010 | 15:16 | Exhibitions | No comments

Howard Hodgkin: AS TIME GOES BY

SOUTHAMPTON ART GALLERY

4 December 2009 14 February 2010

What’s got into Howard? Described by the Guardian recently as Britain’s greatest painter and by Valdemar Januszczak as the Walt Disney of British abstraction, you never really know what you’re going to get. But after years of being lambasted as a poor man’s Matisse, he’s suddenly gone all Jackson Pollock on us: instead of dabs and daubs, we’ve got splats and streaks, on a vast scale. Each of these two canvasses clocks in at over 20 feet wide. Separated only by the ‘As Time Goes By’ lyric from Casablanca, the impact of being in the small gallery is to be overwhelmed with colour. On one side, the reds sizzle beneath their fiery curtain; on the other, the blues ice over as you watch- even the few red blotches here are in danger of hypothermia. In between, the odd green and yellow splash remind us of the past summer. But this is no Pollock spray fest, it’s a painstaking process of painting on hand-torn sheets of paper overlaid with embossed paint on a metal plate. The final product is as deliberate as an Old Master. Apparently Hodgkin was suffering from hydrocephalus – fluid on the brain – as he executed them, which might well explain the change in texture. You only have to pop next door to see some (marginally) earlier work to appreciate the transformation. Here, Venice is represented in blobs – lovely orange blobs, it must be admitted – but blobs all the same. It seems like the vessels needed to be opened in order for us to appreciate Hodgkin’s imagination in all its glory.

Beach boy
David Giles | February 6, 2010 | 23:45 | Exhibitions | No comments

VINCENT CORPET: A LA PLAGE ET EN VILLE
MUSÉE D’ART MODERNE ET D’ART CONTEMPORAIN and GALERIE DES PONCHETTES, NICE

 
What to expect from a man whose last exhibition was entitled Fuck Maîtres (Fuck Masters)? Whose artworks are never titled, just assigned random numbers? Who paints on cardboard? Something jaw-droppingly radical, perhaps? You might be disappointed. Corpet, enfant terrible de Paris, isn’t quite as outrageous as his image promises.
Much of the work on display at the MAMAC sets out to be thoroughly iconoclastic, taking classic artworks and decorating them postmodern-style, which is effectively what his hero Picasso did fifty or so years ago. So here we have Goya’s Maja cut and pasted on top of another female torso, a streak of graffiti and some yellow gouache découpées; there we have Manet’s Olympia rendered in black and white and surrounded by Picasso-style heads and animalistic doodles.
Some of the works seem be straight Picasso reproductions – detached chunks of Guernica. Nothing too extreme. A video accompanies the paintings, in which the creative process unravels as we watch him producing one of the works, but it’s not very interesting to the non-artist, like a passenger looking under the bonnet of a car to find out how the driver got from A to B. In an interview Corpet says that, if there are four different ways of looking at a work of art, you need to go back four times to see it.
But the next day, instead of returning to MAMAC for a second helping, I went to the ‘a la plage’ wing of the exhibition, where the remaining exhibits are housed in a small gallery on the sea front. And for the first time I began to see what he’s getting at.
Corpet has talked about wanting to recapture the experience of small children, pre-speech, watching as the parent flicks through pages of exotic animals, where all these wordless phenomena parade in front of its eyes. And here on the floor at the Ponchettes we have just that: a giant menagerie of animals and other objects that turn into other animals as you move around the painting: a goose’s neck becomes a bird’s head, a bird’s beak becomes a pair of scissors. Here, you really do have to come back for a second look. And maybe a fourth.
Admission: Free
Open: Daily except Monday, 1000-1800 hrs

6 February-16 May 2010

David Giles | January 29, 2010 | 16:51 | Exhibitions | No comments

MOSTRA RADIO D’EPOCA (Exhibition of Antique Radios), CENTRO LE CIMINIERE, CATANIA, SICILY
One of the more unusual exhibitions I’ve stumbled across, in an out-of-the-way complex on Viale Africa, was this collection of antique radios put together by amateur enthusiast Francesco Romeo. I had an hour to kill, having missed the one bus of the day to the foothills of Mount Etna, largely due to a complete absence of information, printed or oral, at the bus station, and so I checked out Le Ciminiere, a former industrial complex converted into a cultural centre. An empty gallery full of old radio sets wasn’t the most inviting show in town, but on politely enquiring, I was warmly greeted by a man who turned out to be the curator himself and he gave me a personal guided tour. He had been collecting them since 12, he explained, saving up his pocket money and acquiring sets from all over Europe from the valve radios of the early 20th century through to 1950s transistors. And there’s no doubt about it: some of these contraptions are indeed things of beauty, constructed with all the elegance of the finest pieces of furniture, many of them stunning examples of art deco style. After all, they used up a lot of your living room. It seems that the exhibition is permanent, so, give the bus station a miss (even when I caught the thing it didn’t go where I wanted it to) and check this out, along with the Museo del Cinema next door.
Admission: Free
Open: Each morning except Monday, some afternoons