It became clear to me then that the main reason I could not decode completely this important work (and most other abstract paintings) because there is almost nothing in the painting looks familiar to me (based on MY knowledge and experience.) That is, if the artist and I do not share similar experience and can’t communicate in some common languages, and if there is no supplemental information or “translation”, how could I possibly hope to understand what the artist is saying through his/her work? Indeed how is this any different from other situations when we are confronted with something foreign and outside of our expertise or experience? With such a realization, I no longer feel intimidated. I realized that I can in fact do better. I can learn a little more the context and the language of the artists to communicate with them through their work.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Inventing Abstraction
When meeting an
abstract painting, my first reaction is usually “What are you saying?!” When I attempted an abstract painting for
the first time, it dawned on me that I did not even know where
to begin; it is so much easier to paint something real. Why is it so hard to appreciate abstract art?
My Aha moment came
when we went to the exhibition Inventing Abstraction, 1910–1925 at the MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) in New
York on Feb 17th on the 100th anniversary of the legendary
1913 Armory
Show in New York City when modern
European art was first introduced to the public in United States.
As one walks into
the gallery of this special exhibit on MoMA’s top floor, you are greeted by a
1910 painting of the master artist Pablo Picasso (see photo below on the left, sourced from Google Image). If you try to search for a clue to figure out
the subject of this painting, you may barely identify an object at the lower
center of the painting that looks like a mandolin. The rest of the painting however looks more
like mumble jumbles no matter how pleasing and appealing to our visual senses. If I tell you the title of this painting is “Woman with a Mandolin”, you may possibly
convince yourself and others, after the fact, that the forms and lines above
and behind the mandolin could be a woman figure (could it be a man?). If I
show you a pre-cursor entitled “Girl with
a Mandolin” that Picasso had done earlier in that Spring of 1910 (see photo
below on the right), does everything make more sense to you now?
It became clear to me then that the main reason I could not decode completely this important work (and most other abstract paintings) because there is almost nothing in the painting looks familiar to me (based on MY knowledge and experience.) That is, if the artist and I do not share similar experience and can’t communicate in some common languages, and if there is no supplemental information or “translation”, how could I possibly hope to understand what the artist is saying through his/her work? Indeed how is this any different from other situations when we are confronted with something foreign and outside of our expertise or experience? With such a realization, I no longer feel intimidated. I realized that I can in fact do better. I can learn a little more the context and the language of the artists to communicate with them through their work.
The painting “Woman with a Mandolin” was fittingly placed
at the entrance of this exhibition because it was a bifurcation point in
Western modern art. It represents the
furthest Picasso had gone in his works in terms of the level of abstraction. While
many artists had continued to pursue abstraction in various ways at the time, Picasso
chose instead to add back more (fragments) of figurative representations (or what
he called “attributes”) to his subsequent
works including those that defined Cubism, the most
influential art movement of 20th century. One of his famous quotes was that “There is no abstract art. You must always
start with something.” Many art
historians had noted that Picasso believed strongly in maintaining the connection
between his work and the things in real world.
Turning to the right
after viewing Picasso’s “Woman with a Mandolin”, one sees another historical
painting - Wassily Kandinsky’s 1911 “Impression
III (Concert)” (see photo on the right, sourced from Google Image). Again, if you
did not know the title nor the context of the work, it would be extremely
difficult to guess what the objects of the painting represent. With the help of the title, most viewers
would probably have guessed correctly the large black form in the painting is a
piano and those smaller slim figures are orchestra and the audience.
But what about the
big yellow patch that takes up almost a third of the canvas? It turns
out this warm bright color depicts Arnold Schoenberg’s music. Kandinsky, being the leading theorist advocating
abstraction at the time, had actually been struggling to create abstract painting. The breakthrough came when he attended the
concert of Schoenberg’s Second
String Quartet Op. 10 in Munich on
Jan.2nd, 1911. What
Schoenberg had achieved and demonstrated was a new type of music that is
atonal. In particular, the last movement
of this string quartet has no key signature and is devoid of diatonic harmonies
found in traditional music (thus again, unfamiliar to most). Inspired by the new style, Kandinsky sketched
out that evening the painting Impression
III (Concert) that demonstrated abstract visual presentation of color, form
and lines can be “ just as abstract,
emotional, and spiritual as Schoenberg's music!” How is this any different from the story
that Steve Chu got the idea of his Nobel Prize work in cooling and trapping
atoms with laser light when he saw snow flakes coming down from his office
window at the Bell Labs?
One might question
what is left if one pushes the process of abstraction to the limit through reduction,
simplification and indirection? Some
artists did exactly that. Not only narratives
can be absent, colors can be removed, forms can be reduced, lines can be dropped,
and title can be “untitled”. In this
exhibit, Russian Suprematist
Kazimir Malevich’s 1918 painting White on White serves a good illustration
of abstract works that show “pure
artistic feeling rather than on visual depiction of objects”. How far is it from the ultimate “nothing
represents nothing”?
Nelson Goodman discussed
the term abstract on Grove Art Online:
“Since an abstract work is one without
representation, or more generally denotation, the question naturally arises
what an abstract verbal or linguistic work may be, a text that says nothing, a
story that does not tell a story, a poem that does not speak of anything. Like
a picture that does not picture, these works are deprived of a normal
denotative function and refer directly by showing rather than saying, as by
exemplifying patterns or expressing feelings…” As a student of art, I certainly feel more
comfortable with Picasso’s ideas on abstraction. If ALL familiar forms are removed and the
links to figurative representation of objects are absent, what are we left
with? What and how could I communicate beyond
the mere raw emotion with others through the work?
Of course, abstract
art in a broader sense is not new and has been in existence since the early
days of the human history. It has been
and continues to be reinvented all the time in many corners of the earth in
varying contexts, media with different tools.
One example is a recent calligraphy work by Dong YangZi 董陽孜in Taiwan (see photo below). Can you tell what the characters are? How critical is it? I was told that Art comes first! Indeed, it
is no different from in music where music
comes first. How critical is the
lyrics when you first hear a song that touches your nerves and evoked your
unknown emotions? Did you enjoy some Italian
operas any less because you did not understand Italian?
What I have also
learned from the exhibit is that the development of abstract art did not happen
as a result of few geniuses dreamed up an approach and style in isolation from their
studios. The opposite was true. The creative process was not unlike today’s races
in bleeding edge applied science and technology. Artists discussed and debated each other in bars,
café and by mail from concept, theory to experiment. They stood on the shoulders of masters like Paul Cézanne and challenged the tradition and the status-quo. They explored and experimented; they competed
and pushed each other to the brink.
Their social networks were not limited to fellow artists as illustrated
in the chart to the right from the exhibit. They included poets, writers, composers
and tool inventors, a true inter-disciplinary venture as what we might call it today.
Whether you feel comfortable with abstract
art, I think you would agree that it was an exciting period in history. I think you will enjoy it more and more as
you spend more time with it.
Talk to you soon!
Labels:
arts and literature,
culture,
travel
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