NYC

Dana Schutz- Painting in an Earthquake

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

Dana Schutz, right, at her opening on January 10th.

When I last saw work by Dana Schutz it was in the 2017 Whitney Biennial, where her Painting, Open Casket, was met with controversy, a boycott, and calls that the work a) be taken down, even b) destroyed.

Painting in an Earthquake, 2019, 94 x 88 inches, seen in the Atrium gallery visible from 18th Street. It sets the stage while standing apart from the rest of the show. Though it’s seen 10 days into the New Year, it’s dated 2019. Every other work is dated 2018. (I thought I could detect the smell of drying paint in the galleries.)

Neither happened, and after the show ended, the Artist found refuge from the controversy by returning to Painting.

Installation view of the Sculpture in the first gallery.

On January 10th, 2019, she opened Dana Schutz: Imagine Me and You, at Petzel Gallery, 456 West 18th Street, her first NYC solo show since the ’17 Biennial, and surprised me by including 5 Sculptures for the first time. While I immediately thought of the late, great Jack Whitten and his “second career” as a Sculptor that almost no one knew about during his lifetime, these are all dated 2018, and there was no indication if she had made any before. The Sculptures, which were molded in clay and then cast in bronze (per the press release), are shown in the first gallery, which means they are definitely not an “afterthought.”

Washing Monsters, 2018, All Paintings are Oil on canvas, 94 x 87 inches.

With the 2019 Whitney Biennial scheduled to open on May 17th, the show provides an opportunity  to see what an alumnus has been up to since 2017.

Mountain Group, 2018, Oil on canvas, 120 x 156 inches.

On the one hand, there’s much in her new Paintings that would seem to come right out of late Philip Guston, but overall, it seems to me, in the end, she moves past it to achieve a fresh daring of her own, particularly in Washing Monsters, shown above, Beat Out The Sun and Treadmill, shown further on.

Strangers, 2018, 88×84. Almost everything about this screams “late Philip Guston,” though the longer I looked at it, I moved past it.

Almost nothing feels still. Everything’s in motion.

Treadmill, 2018, 90 x 96 inches One thing I particularly like about these Paintings is her palette.

Even the Sculpture.

Head in the Wind, 2018, Bronze, 22x14x22 inches.

The paint is often applied thickly,

Here, the paint even casts its own shadows on the lower part. Touched, 2018, 30 x 26 inches.

which makes the inclusion of Sculpture in the show even more appropriate.

The Visible World, 2018, 108 x 140 inches.

The Sculpture both compliments and echoes the Paintings and the two combine for a show that is not overly large, in terms of the number of works, but feels unified.

Presenter, 2018, 88 x 88 inches

It’s hard not to look at this work for signs of the effect of the controversy on it, and there are a number of passages that would seem to lend themselves to such an interpretation. But, overall, these works reward extended, and repeat, looking. In the brand new day of 2019, Dana Schutz’ Art is alive and well.

Beat Out the Sun, 2018, 94 x 87 inches

While this show runs through February 23rd, I’ll be curious to hear who has been chosen to be in this year’s Biennial– particularly among Painters and Photographers. Stay tuned.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Brand New Day,” by Van Morrison from Moondance, 1970.

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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Charles White’s Final Mural

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*unless otherwise credited)

Charles White at work on the mural, Mary McLeod Bethune, in 1978, the year before his passing. *Photo by Frank J. Thomas. Click any photo for full size.

A pendant to the Charles White Retrospective recently at MoMA, David Zwirner mounted Charles White: Monumental Practice and Charles White: Selected Works, both on the 2nd floor of 537 West 20th Street. The former featured studies for Charles White’s Mary McLeod Bethune Mural, the last mural and major work the Artist would complete in his lifetime, honoring a great teacher who believed in “uplifting people through learning1.” The Presentation Study, and 4 monumental ink and chalk Drawings that range between 87 and 96 inches (8 feet!) tall, each, were accompanied by other preparatory Drawings and ephemera. Together, they reveal the course of Charles White’s final major work, and add more pieces to the picture of Charles White’s extraordinary accomplishment.

The Presentation Study, 1977-8, without the text, squared up for transfer, shows a child with an open book.

Taking a closer look at his final major work offers a rare look at his working method. Each of the Studies is lined with a grid and diagonals to help transfer the composition to the mural. The Presentation Study offers a  rare chance to see Charles White’s late style in full color. (Most of the late works in the MoMA Retrospective were monochrome.)

Study for Mary McLeod Bethune’s portrait

The mural shares the same grid pattern background overlaid with text seen in Charles White’s Wanted Poster series from 1969 through the early 1970s, and a strong woman as the central figure. The text, in this case, being Mary McLeod Bethune’s Last Will and Testament.

Studies for Mary McLeod Bethune Mural (Guitar Player, Seated Child with Book, and Seated Woman), 1977, Ink on charcoal on paper in 3 parts. The Seated Child is particularly interesting as the figure is off-center. Perhaps the rest of the sheet wss lost, but when seen close up, it still contains the grid and the diagonals to allow it to be properly placed in the larger composition.

In fact these huge Drawings need to be seen close up. Only then can you get a full appreciation of, and marvel at,  Charles White’s mastery of Drawing and Draftsmanship, and the amount of work each of these contains.

Detail of Study for Mary McLeod Behune showing Charles White’s mastery of the age old technique of cross-hatching. Particularly noteworthy for me in this are the hands. Notoriously difficult to render, I always pay attention to how an Artist renders hands. Charles White’s hands changed dramatically over his career, as I pointed out in my Post on the Retrospective, before he settled on this realistic style. Her hands are rendered here with particular strength and beauty. They are a focal point for the entire mural.

The second gallery contains additional studies and ephemera including Photos of the work in progress and documents regarding the project reveling the road Charles White had to traverse to do this project.

Installation view of the second gallery with ephemera in the vitrines.

It concludes with this picture of the finished Mural installed in the Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune Regional Library, Exposition Park, Los Angeles. Charles White was paid just $3,000.00 for it2!

The mural which measures approximately 5 by 7 feet, installed in the Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune Regional Libray as it looks today.

In the third gallery, where Charles White: Selected Works was on view, showing a variety of works from the 1930s through the 1950s, two works stood out to me. First, is the fascinating Landscape, ca. 1957-9. It was hard for me to look at this and not be reminded of Cezanne’s planar style in the mountains, with a more flattened geometric landscape in the foreground, and a sky that has as many colors as some bodies of water. It’s a fascinating look at a rare landscape done while Charles White was exploring some of the many styles he had at his fingertips.

Landscape, c.1957-59, Oil on board, 36 x 24 inches.

Directly across from it is the powerfully haunting Homage to Attica, one of the few watercolors by Charles White I’ve seen. Unlike the mysterious figure in his masterpiece, Black Pope, who’s eyes are hidden by sunglaasses, here, we get to the shrouded subject’s eyes, and only his eyes.

Homage to Attica, 1972, Watercolor on paper, 11 x 54 inches.

While the Retrospective closed at MoMA on January 13th, and now moves to LACMA in Charles White’s last home town, L.A., where it will open on February 17th and run through June 9th, the David Zwirner shows are up until February 16th.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Ol’ Man River,” by Jerome Kern & Oscar Hammerstein from Showboat as sung by Paul Robeson, one of Charles White’s frequent subjects, in 1937-

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 6 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. If you’ve found it worthwhile, you can donate to keep it going & ad-free below. Thank you!

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here.
Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them.
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  1. Charles White: A Retrospective Exhibition Catalog, P.136 ↩
  2. http://www.publicartinla.com/LA_murals/USC/charles_white_mural.html ↩

Charles White- Now

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

“Drawing is [a] particularly exciting medium for me. I just like the feel of it. My whole body is into it when I draw and I think black and white is as effective a medium [as any].” Charles White1

Charles White, Detail of Study for Nat Turner, Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, 1968, Charcoal and oil wash over pencil on board. Click any Photo for full size.

Ah…the majesty of excellent draftsmanship… Just when you thought it was dead as a doornail, with Photography destroying all previous Artforms in its world dominating wake, along comes a Retrospective of one of the Masters of the craft of Drawing in the 20th Century, the late Charles White (1918-1979), who’s centenary is celebrated in the first major museum survey devoted to his Art in over 30 years. Charles White: A Retrospective, made its second stop at MoMA after debuting at the Art Institute of Chicago and now heads to LACMA beginning February 16th, thus tracing the 3 cities Mr. White lived in- in order. Its magisterial, full of wonders, and long overdue. The only possible caveat could be- MORE!…even bigger, please.

The entrance, divided by a sliding glass door, of one of the great shows of recent years.

By no means a small show, clocking in at 114 items (many of them quite large), over 13 section, the takeaway is that, henceforth, it will be impossible to deny Charles White his place in the pantheon of great Artists of the century. Again.

Charles White was a very successful Artist during his lifetime. He had gallery representation in each city he lived in and his work was collected by museums, nationally and internationally. He was also sought out as a teacher, particularly at Otis College of Art & Design in Los Angeles, from 1965 until his passing in 1979 at only 61. After his death, he fell into something of an eclipse. But, his influence has lived on through the work of his students including Richard Wyatt, Jr, Kent Twitchell (both muralists), and most prominently, Kerry James Marshall (a “representational” Painter) and David Hammons (who has worked in a wide range of media). Mr. Marshall never seems to miss an opportunity to laud Charles White- as a teacher and as an Artist, frequently speaking of him in the highest terms, as he has, again, writing the preface for the excellent Exhibition Catalog. He led me to take a deeper look at Charles White a few years ago. Mr. Hammons paid tribute to Charles White in October, 2017 when he curated the remarkable Leonardo da Vinci-Charles White show at MoMA, that I wrote about here. Judging by the crowds that attended this show, as the MoMA stop of the Charles White Retrospective “tour” ends and Los Angeles prepares to welcome it, I think it’s already safe to say, the Charles White “eclipse” is over.  The other take away, for me, is that Charles White’s influence deserves to be even greater than it already is. With all due respect to his students, Charles White’s Art more than speaks for itself.

Study for Nat Turner, Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, 1968, Charcoal and oil wash over pencil on board.

When I was a kid, everyone drew. Some, eventually, took lessons and studied Drawing seriously, which is something you can devote your life to and learn something new each and every day. Even for those that didn’t study it, Drawing became a part of many of their lives, whether making doodles, notes, caricatures, or, what have you. That seems to be changing and I think it’s tragic. Drawing is another language, one that is every bit as effective at communicating as writing. I think it’s an essential life skill. Unfortunately, it’s one that I don’t see as many doing as they were 15 or 20 years ago. One look at the work of Charles White will show you what’s possible with Drawing. 

The final Drawing.Nat Turner, Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, 1968, Drybrush and ink on board, 51 x 78 inches.

As beautiful and technically masterful as it is, Charles White’s work is about expressing ideas. “An artist must bear a social responsibility. He must be accountable for the content of his work. And that work should reflect a deep, abiding concern for humanity. He has that responsibility whether he wants it or not because he’s dealing with ideas. And ideas are power. They must be used one way or the other,” Charles White2. He was speaking in 1978. He could have been speaking yesterday.

Back cover of the Exhibition Catalog.

Those ideas revolved, largely, around his efforts to set the record straight on black history in America in response to the way it was taught when he was growing up. He did this through depicting both the famous and those not so famous in powerful and unique ways that seen over the course of my 4 visits seemed to resonate with visitors in ways I don’t often see. Time and again, I encountered whole families moving slowly from work to work, with the parents patiently explaining fine details of a subject’s life, or very little known cultural details Mr. White had depicted, from what I could gather when they were next to me.

Charles White hit the ground running. He received a scholarship to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago at 13. He drew this at 17-

Self-Portrait, 1935, Black crayon on cardboard.

He then began exploring a wide range of styles over the next few decades, some showing the influence of abstraction, cubism and mannerism, but, remarkably, always remaining his. I found it interesting to trace them in his early murals, for which only studies remain. The first one, Five Great American Negroes was done 4 years after the Self-Portrait, when Charles White was 21.

Charles White, Five Great Americans Negroes, 1939, Oil on canvas. From left to right- Sojourner Truth, Booker T. Washington, Frederick Douglass, George Washington Carver, and Marian Anderson

Here we see Charles White depicting famous figures- living and dead (these were selected by the readers of the newspaper who sponsored the mural), something he would do for much of the rest of his career. The enlarged arms and hands that begin to be seen here remind me of passages in Michelangelo and the Mannerists, like Hendrick Goltzius.  The Mexican Muralists- Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco and David Alfaro Siqueiros, who he met on a later trip to Mexico, were an obvious big influence. Artistically and philosophically.

Study for Struggle for Liberation (Chaotic Stage of the Negro, Past and Present), 1940, Tempera on illustration board.

One year later, his Struggle for Liberation (Chaotic Stage of the Negro, Past and Present), a 1940 project for a Chicago Library that was never completed, is known today only through this study and some Photographs taken by Gordon Parks. In this incredibly complex composition, the left side speaks to the past, the right to the present. Both scenes appear to be filled with everyday people, except for John Brown, apparently holding a gun,  in the lower left. According to curator Sarah Kelly Oehler in the Exhibition Catalog, this work can be seen as indication that his ideas were leaning left and towards putting more faith in everyday people to bring change. In the right side, “He depicted capitalism, politics, institutional power, and violence as responsible for the ongoing injustices faced by African Americans as they demanded their rights3.” The work was deemed “inappropriate” for a library, even one that served a black community. Charles White, apparently, finished the left side of it, then moved to New York.

Study for The Contribution of the Negro to Democracy in America, 1943. Tempera on board. Note the row of Civil War soldiers, near the center. Painted during World War II, these were possibly included in support of a campaign to gain equal rights at home and abroad for African American soldiers as a reminder of their contributions during the Civil War.

In the last of Charles White’s three early murals, The Contribution of the Negro to Democracy in America, 1943, the Artist includes at least 14 identified historical figures, in a circular composition. His style, again, is unique and fascinating. Note the hands of the guitar player, possibly Lead Belly (playing a guitar with no strings), in the lower right and the planar nature of the portraits. Again, there seems to be the influence of Diego Rivera, with the machinery in the center echoing his Detroit Industry Murals.

Five portraits, in five styles. Clockwise from top left- Worker, 1944, John Brown, 1949, Gideon, 1951, Untitled (Bearded Man), c. 1949, and Frederick Douglas, 1950.

This wall shows 5 portraits, each in a different style, that includes at least one study for a mural portrait.

 

Worker, 1944, Linocut on paper. From the Exhibition Catalog. .

When I look at these, and in particular the portraits of the Worker, John Brown, Untitled (Bearded Man) and Frederick Douglas, I’m reminded of the prints of the German Expressionist, Kathe Kollwitz (1967-1945), an Artist who was, also, passionately involved in social causes, increasingly after losing her son, Peter, in World War 1 in 1914. Kathe Kollwitz was influenced by Expressionist Ernst Barlach’s prints, but further stripped them down to their essentials, in stark works like this Frontal Self-Portrait, 1922-23.

Kathe Kollwitz, Frontal Self-Portrait, 1922-23, Woodcut. MoMA Photograph.

Charles White was both an avid Photographer and a collector of Photographs in books and in the media (like Francis Bacon). Charles White’s own Photography is only touched on in the show with this case of 17 Photographs. It’s a subject that warrants closer study.

A selection of Photographs taken by Charles White range from portraits to street scenes to shots of a protest in NYC.

Both his Photos and his collection of media provided him with reference material that he created many of his works from (also like Mr. Bacon). I find this interesting since Charles White was a master of life drawing which he also taught.

As his career went on, and his mature style appeared, particularly in his work after his move to California to help with the lingering side effects of the tuberculosis he got in the Army in 1944, his images are more and more open to interpretation.

Birmingham Totem, 1964, Ink and charcoal on paper, 71 x 40 inches.

Birmingham Totem, 1964, is an amazing work on many levels. First, it stands one inch shy of 6 feet tall, unheard of for a Drawing, except in this show. Second, it’s an “elegy” (per the wall card) to the four girls (one, aged 11, three age 14) that were killed in a KKK bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama on September 15, 1963. In it, a young man sits atop of pile of rubble, rendered in incredible detail. Even more remarkable, the young man holds a plumb line in his right hand, the weight of which is seen about half way down. He would appear to symbolize rebuilding.

J’Accuse #1, 1965, Charcoal and Wolff crayon on illustration board. This series marks the debut of Charles White’s mature style, based in realism. The hands and arms are no longer exaggerated. While the style is more direct, the composition is more open to interpretation, and so, more abstract, which would continue for the rest of his career. According to Ilene Susan Fort in the Exhibition Catalog, the 12 powerful and stunning works in the J’Accuse series “constitute a thematic indictment of the systemic, ongoing disenfranchisement of African Americans4.”

Charles White, master of Drawing, master of depicting the black form (per Kerry James Marshall- “Nobody else has drawn the black body with more elegance and authority.” Exhibition Catalog P.15), is someone who had a strong agenda he manifested in his work. He championed the struggle of African Americans, women (witness his 1951 solo show, Negro Women, where all 15 works on view included a woman), and workers, in Artworks that included both historical figures and every day people. Along the way, he created a body of work that adds another powerful voice telling another side of African American history with unique compositions featuring exquisite execution. Charles White’s compositions were always complex. From the earliest work shown, Kitchenette Debutantes, 1939,

General Moses (Harriet Tubman), 1965, Ink on paper.

Among the women that reappear in Charles White’s work, none is his subject more often than the activist and abolitionist Harriet Tubman (1822-1913). This later work, General Moses (Harriet Tubman), is a striking portrait of her. Then, so is this-

Harriet, 1972, Oil on board.

In what is, perhaps, his finest series, in my eyes, the late Wanted Poster Series, Charles White reimagines “Wanted” posters issued for runaway slaves.

Wanted Poster Series #17, 1971, Oil and pencil on poster board.

A series of 14 works he began in 1969, the images are powerfully direct, yet still retain a fascinating mystery as one ponders the details. The background textures and the stenciled text remind me of Contemporary Art techniques found in the work of, say, Jasper Johns.

Banner for Willie J., 1976, Oil on canvas, memorializes Charles White’s cousin, Willie J., an innocent bystander who was killed in a bar robbery.

Black Pope is the already classic example of late Charles White. Featured in the 2 piece MoMA show in 2017 opposite a Drawing by Leonardo da Vinci, it was also the subject of a fine MoMA book released at the time. It perfectly sums up the experience of looking at it, and late Charles White when it concludes on its final page, “If we today find the work difficult to define, the drawing demands that we try5.” It is this enigmatic approach to realism that may be of lasting influence to those who have come after Charles White, particularly Kerry James Marshall, though it seems to me it may be there in the work of Abstract Artists Jack Whitten and Mark Bradford as well.

Black Pope (Sandwich Board Man), 1973, Oil wash on board.

” I find, in tracing the course of the portrayal  of the Negro subject in art, a plague of distortions, stereotyped and superficial caricatures of ‘uncles’ ‘mammies,’ , and pickaninnies’,” he said6. Charles White is an important Artist because his work accomplished exactly what he set out to do. It does so most artfully, it seems to me. It’s full of life, depth and mystery. Yet, his work has an immediate directness that speaks to everyone as soon as they see it.

Now. And forever. Detail of just one part of the enigma of this endlessly fascinating work.

When I look at that “NOW” in Black Pope, I, too, wonder what the Artist was trying to tell us. Then, I quickly begin wondering what his reaction would be to living in this “NOW” and finding so little has changed. It’s terribly sad on one hand. On the other? It makes Charles White’s Art as relevant as its ever been.

UPDATE- My look at the two satellite Charles White shows concurrently at David Zwirner is here. One show is centered on the mural for Mary McLeod Bethune, Charles White’s last major work.

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Charles White, A Retrospective, 2018

Charles White: A Retrospective, by Sarah Kelly Oehler, Esther Adler and with a preface by Kerry James Marshall, published in 2018 by the Art Institute of Chicago, is the finest book yet published on Charles White and easily the best one in print. It’s a terrific introduction to the Artist that will also serve as a go-to reference for years to come thanks to the depth it goes into on such little-known areas like Charles White’s Photography as well as the inclusion of a full and detailed chronology and exhibition history. The reproductions are gorgeous. Easily recommended.

Fun fact- The inside of the dust jacket folds out to reveal this beautiful detail from Wanted Poster #12, 1970, suitable for hanging.

Charles White: Black Pope by Esther Adler and published by MoMA in 2017, is the other recommended, in print, Charles White book. MoMA curator Esther Adler does a very good job of analyzing Black Pope and relating it’s history, in the process looking at a number of other works from Mr. White’s career. While A Retrospective is the first choice for an introduction, for those looking to go deeper into one of Charles White’s greatest and most mysterious works, this book has the most information we are likely to get anytime soon.

Charles White, Black Pope, MoMA, 2018

* -Soundtrack for this Post is this video of Lead Belly, frequent subject of Charles White, performing. Purportedly the only film ever made of him-

My thanks to Stephanie Katsias of MoMA. 

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 6 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. If you’ve found it worthwhile, you can donate to keep it going & ad-free below. Thank you!

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here.
Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them.
For “short takes” and additional pictures, follow @nighthawk_nyc on Instagram.

Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

 

  1. Exhibition Catalog, P.39 ↩
  2. Black Pope Exhibition Catalog P.8 ↩
  3. Sarah Kelly Oehler, Exhibition Catalog, P. 32 ↩
  4. Exhibition Catalog, P. 131 ↩
  5. P.51 ↩
  6. Exhibition Catalog P.24 ↩

2018: The Year In Art Seen, And Met

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

Will Art ever be more popular than it is now? On January 4th, 2019,  The Met announced another attendance record was set in 2018 when almost 7.4 million visited The Met Fifth Avenue, The Met Breuer or The Cloisters1.

On this late summer day, I’ll be lucky if I can figure out a way to get up the stairs to get in! Click any Photo for full size.

Simply put, when I think back on 2018, I’ll remember the extraordinary number of truly great shows I saw at The Met and The Met Breuer this past year, among those 7.4 million. While I certainly spent quality time at the other Museums and saw wonderful shows at each of them (not to mention countless galleries and a few Art & Book fairs), it’s almost impossible to top the list of shows The Met, collectively, mounted this year- especially when you consider that I didn’t even see the biggest show of them all- biggest by attendance that is, the show that drew 1,659,647 visitors- Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination (I saw the parts of it that were installed outside of the show proper).

Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination– A view of part of the show installed to the south of the Great Staircase.

I chose to skip it. My friend, the fashion Blogger extraordinaire, Magda, saw it and did a terrific piece on it, here.  As for the Art I saw in 2018? I’ll remember most standing on this spot near the south west corner of the 2nd floor of The Met, and marveling at the sight in front of me in a 270 degree range.

I’ve never seen the likes of this before. A 270 degree panorama from “the spot.” 2nd Floor, Metropolitan Museum.

Before my eyes, there were no less that 4 major and/or historic shows going on within yards of each other AT THE SAME TIME!

A fortnight of heaven. From right to left- 1- Rodin At The Met, 2- Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman & Designer, 3- David Hockney 80th Birthday Retrospective, 4- Birds of a Feather: Joseph Cornell’s Homage to Juan Gris. This photo was taken on February 4th, 2018. The last day all four of these shows were open at the same time.

Behind me, to the far right in the panorama, above, was Rodin At The Met (1, above), which I had just walked through to get to this spot.

Rodin, The Tempest, before 1910, Marble, seen in Rodin In The Met.

Just to my right was the once in a lifetime Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman & Designer (2), containing 133 of the Master’s Drawings and 3 Sculptures. Just to the left of that was the David Hockney 80th Birthday Retrospective (3). Down the hall to the left, Birds of a Feather: Joseph Cornell’s Homage to Juan Gris (4) recently opened. The run of all four overlapped from January 23rd to February 4th, when I took the above, just 13 days.

Had enough? C’mon. This is NYC!

Thomas Cole, The Course of Empire, Oil on canvas, 1833-36, on loan from the New York Historical Society. Installation view of Thomas Cole’s Journey: Atlantic Crossings. 170 years later, they would inspire Ed Ruscha to create a contemporary version that was shown in conjunction with the National Gallery, London, incarnation of this show.

ALSO going on at that very moment down in the American Wing, Thomas Cole’s Journey: Atlantic Crossings was a quite pleasant surprise, AND, over at The Met Breuer, the revelatory Edvard Munch: Between The Clock And The Bed was closing that very day! The Met, typically, has up to 25 shows up at any one given time. But, SIX MAJOR Shows up at the same time is extraordinary. WHERE else in the world does that happen?

Edvard Munch, Self-Portrait: Between the Clock and the Bed, 1940-43, Oil on canvas. His last significant “self-scrutiny” as he referred to his self-portraits, he stands before the faceless clock and bed, in front of his Paintings.

Thus far, I’ve written about 3 of them-

Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman & Designer

Thomas Cole’s Journey: Atlantic Crossings

Edvard Munch: Between The Clock And The Bed

Given all of this, even before January, 2018 was over, I knew nothing was going to top The Met in Art in NYC this year. But? Keep an open mind, right? Let em try! Well, now that the year is over, and I take stock at all that happened, nothing changed my mind. In fact, there were more great shows at The Met as the year unfolded. So much happened that in spite of all of my coverage, there are other shows and Artists I feel the need to show and talk about. I’ve decided to focus on 3 Artists here I encountered or discovered in Met shows in 2018- one, very famous, another, who recently passed without receiving as much acclaim as I feel he deserves, and a third who, I feel, is one of the most important Artists of our time.

First, a spot quiz- Before you read the caption, who is this by?

Tyger Painting No 2, by David Hockney, 1960, when the Artist was about 22, Oil and mixed media on board.

When I saw that David Hockney was installed right next door to all the treasures by no less than Michelangelo, the Artist called “Il Divno,” I couldn’t help but wonder what that initial phone call was like…a Met executive reaching out to Mr. Hockney by phone, saying something like, “David, this is _______ from The Met. We have some good news for you, and, maybe, some not as good news for you. The good news is The Metropolitan is giving you an 80th Birthday Retrospective! Congratulations! The not as good news is it’s being mounted right next to a once in a lifetime Michelangelo show containing 133 of the master’s Drawings and 3 of his Sculptures…” And you say you want to be a famous Artist? Stay humble. Fame is relative, possibly fleeting.

The Met reported 702,516 people visited the Michelangelo show, and 363,877 attended David Hockney.

I haven’t spent much time looking at the Art of David Hockney, but I have with his exceptional books, particularly the now classic, Secret Knowledge, and the fascinating History of Pictures: From the Cave to the Computer Screen. Secret Knowledge, which has made a real contribution to Art History, was nothing less than a bombshell when it was released in 2001. His, and physicist Charles Falco’s, theory that the Old Masters (including Jan van Eyck, my first personal God of Painting) used optics, recently developed in Van Eyck’s time, to get the incredible realism they achieved was deemed heresy. Until you looked at the “evidence” they presented, including a huge wall Hockney created of postcards of Paintings created before 1400 and up to modern times that showed a sudden sharpening of their realism occurring about the beginning of the fifteenth century.

Upon closer look, their theory made perfect sense. I wished it had come years earlier when I was struggling to learn how to draw by “eyeballing” my subjects, which, of course, continues to have its place. Secret Knowledge became a superb BBC TV Documentary, and then a television series, and its impact is being felt to this day. The 2016 Film Tim’s Vermeer shows inventor Tim Jenison using these techniques to “re-create” how Vermeer might have done his Paintings. Of course, Secret Knowledge is a theory, not history, though as I said, it’s one that makes sense. Perusing it and A History of Pictures, released in late 2016, I was led to Cameraworks and his interviews on Photography, which I’ve found equally compelling. So, the David Hockney Retrospective gave me a long-delayed chance to consider his long, prolific and restless Art career. Afterall, since the passing of Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon, he is oft referred to as “England’s foremost living Painter.” 

Arizona, 1964, left, Portrait Surrounded by Artistic Devices, 1965, right.

Though his popularity would be a while coming, requiring a move half way around the world to California, David Hockney showed a remarkable tenacity early on, Painting in styles that were, well, “different” from that of any other Painter of the time. He moved from abstraction to works that were somewhere between abstract and figurative, generally including a figure, before landing on a style that retained his use of color while becoming even more representational.

A Bigger Splash, 1967, Acrylic on canvas. Without the unseen swimmer, the splash becomes a passage out of Abstract Expressionism, jarring the all too peaceful scene.

Moving to LA, his style exploded into color, a sudden taste for representationalism in a style that came to epitomize upper class California living to the point that its now sparked something of a “response,” from Ramiro Gomez, who focuses on the workers maintaining these places-

Ramiro Gomez, No Splash, 2013, 96 x 96 inches, after David Hockney’s A Bigger Splash, 1967, focuses on the pool workers instead of the residents. Photo: Osceola Refetoff for Charlie James Gallery

David Hockney could have continued to paint these ad infinitum and, no doubt, sell every single one he produced. But, he’s far too restless, and curious, to stand in any one spot for too long.

The Twenty-Sixth Very New Painting, 1992. Picasso and Cubism have never been very far from David Hockney’s mind- to this day.

He then revealed his own take on portraiture in single subjects and couples before exploring, and breaking the boundaries of, Photographic perception with his “joiners,” which explored his belief that we don’t see the way the camera sees- with a fixed, single, viewpoint.

In Pearblossom Highway, 11-18th April, 1986, #1, 47 x 64 inches, a “joiner” composed of hundreds of Photographs, David Hockney explores his belief that a camera has a fixed viewpoint and a single vanishing point. So, putting hundreds of Photos together creates many. He’s said he considers this work “a panoramic assault on Renaissance one-point perspective2.”

All along he drew, and he drew and he drew. There were times when I admit looking at his work and wondering how well he could draw but being well acquainted with the difficulties involved in mastering the line, as the show moved through his Drawings, its seminal and central place in his practice becomes clear as he relentlessly forged ahead. As the Drawing section ended, he seemed to me to have finally made peace with Drawing, having taken it from graphite on paper to the use of the Camera Lucida and more recently, to the iPhone and the iPad.

Three iPad Drawings, shown in-progress side by side in the final room.

His painting, too, continually evolved over the years and decades.

A Closer Winter Tunnel, February-March, 2006.

He left LA to return to the home his late mother had lived in and turned his attention to a little known area called the Yorkshire Wolds and created a remarkable series of landscapes, including some multi-panel monumental works, along with multi-channel videos that show this area that no Artist had previously “discovered” to be full of picturesque wonders.

Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy, 1971. The “coolness” here can be partially explained by the fact that this was a rare commission the Artist accepted and so, he didn’t have a personal relationship with them.

Mr and Mrs Ossie Clark, 1970, Photograph. Not mentioned anywhere in the show, and not very well known, is that David Hockney used Photographs, usually his own, as source material for years. Later, he finally created Photographs as stand-alone works. It’s fascinating to see what’s changed in the finished Painting. (From David Hockney on Art, Conversations with Paul Joyce, P.14, hence the curve.)

Personally, I find a cool distance in most of David Hockney’s work (felt most clearly in his double portraits, but present in everything from his landscapes to his single portraits) that the bright colors and the often undeniable beauty do not hide. This works to his advantage during the period he spent immortalizing the Yorkshire Wolds, beginning in 2005, until about 2013, near where he grew up, seen before. It’s hard for me to look at these beautiful works without being a little bit reminded of the work of another of his long time influences, Vincent van Gogh. Particularly because Mr. Hockney chose to largely create these works on the spot, en plein air, during all four seasons, late winter seen above. The passage of time looms large in this series of works, as it has in the intervening years since Mr. Hockney worked in these fields as a  young man. Yet, in them we see everything change- the seasons, the weather, individual trees, everything except the Artist. That we can only see through surveying his work through the years.

Ordinary versus Reverse Perspective.

David Hockney revealed an Artist who doesn’t get enough credit for his progressiveness, the resistance of his work to current fads, and its individuality. From the beginning he turned a deaf ear to trends and norms, rejecting both Abstract Expressionism and Pop while somewhat brazenly, and frankly, featuring homosexuality (which was illegal in England until 1967). After the tragic death of an assistant, Mr. Hockney sold the Yorkshire house in 2015 and returned to L.A. “Reverse perspective,” as he refers to it, has taken full hold in his most recent work, as seen in the final gallery at The Met, and at Pace on West 25th Street in David Hockney: Something New in Painting (and Photography) (and even Printing), in April and May.

Here, in David Hockney: Something New in Painting (and Photography) (and even Printing) at Pace, spring, 2018, Mr. Hockney cleverly manages to include all the works on the surrounding walls in the Pace show in this Photographic Drawing, as he calls it, which forces the eye to move around the work, each stop becoming a new perspective.

Taken to another level, I think, he’s also comparing Photography to Painting. In addition to his fascinating thoughts on perspective and how cameras see versus how humans see, I found he had already put down in print quite a few things I was feeling about Painting versus Photography a year and a half into my deep dive into “post-The Americans” Photography. I’ll save those for another piece.

Mr. Hockney has been first a number of times, so far, in a rage of realms, including Photography. Being first is not something history often rewards. David Hockney’s popularity seems to know no bounds, and his influence is there to be seen in the work of any number of Artists. Yet, as with every other Artist, posterity will decide where David Hockney’s Art belongs, and time will tell if it will be as popular in hundreds of years as it is now, or not. In the meantime? I’m interested to see what this Artist who lives to create does next.

Coincidentally, and fortuitously, 10 days after I took that panorama from “the spot,” The Met’s William Eggleston: Los Alamos opened, giving me a chance to revisit the work of the Artist who’s show at David Zwirner in December, 2016 led to my deep dive into the world of Contemporary Photography. I wrote about Los Alamos here.

Exit/Entrance installation view of History Refused to Die, showing the recto of the titular work, the recto  is seen below, center.

After the six major shows ended, I returned to The Met to see History Refused to Die, a sleeper of a show publicity-wise, that honored the recent gift to The Museum by the Souls Grown Deep Foundation by featuring a selection of 30 Paintings, Sculptures, Drawings and Quilts from it by self-taught contemporary African American Artists, highlighted by a number of truly amazing works by the late Thornton Dial (1928-2016).

Thonton Dial, History Refused to Die, 2004, Okra stalks and roots, clothing, collaged drawings, tin, wire, steel, Masonite, steel chain, enamel and spray paint, front, center. Verso of the work seen above.

Mr. Dial created a body of work after having watched the events of 9/11 on television. It, and the subsequent war were the subjects of a few works seen here, among others.

Thornton Dial, 9/11: Interrupting the Morning News, 2002, Graphite, charcoal, and watercolor on paper.

Thornton Dial, Victory in Iraq, 2004, Mannequin head, barbed wire, steel, clothing, tin, electrical wire, wheels, stuffed animals, toy cars and figurines, plastic spoons, wood, basket, oil, enamel, spray paint and two-part epoxy putty on canvas and wood.

Thonton Dial, The End of November: The Birds That Didn’t Learn How to Fly, 2007, Quilt, wire, fabric, and enamel on canvas on wood.

While I returned a few times to see Mr. Dial’s work again, I was also impressed with that of Ronald Lockett (1965-1995), a cousin of Thornton Dial.

Ronald Lockett, The Enemy Amongst Us, 1995, Commercial paint, pine needles, metal and nails on plywood.

One of the great things about this show was the complete freedom the Artists worked with. It’s hard for me not to believe that that was one of the benefits of being self-taught in their case. Yes, even today, you can be a self-taught Artist and still get in to The Met’s Permanent Collection.

Over my 1,500+ visits to The Met, I’ve spent countless hours sitting there in front of Jackson Pollock’s Autumn Rhythm (Number 30), 1950, Enamel on canvas, 105 x 207 inches, dating back to before I started counting my visits. Seen here on August 31st, at the entrance to what was then the Abstract Expressionist galleries.

Just to the left of one of the two entrances/exits to History Refused to Die, I paused to revisit an old friend.  Almost 30 years ago, I sat on those benches for hours on end staring at and contemplating one of the most remarkable and revolutionary Paintings in Western Art, Jackson Pollock’s Autumn Rhythm (Number 30), 1950, at the time my favorite Painting in The Met (“favorite” does not mean “the best.” I don’t believe in that), and, perhaps, the crown jewel of The Met’s Abstract Expressionism collection. In my opinion, this is a key wall in The Met. Its the entrance to the Abstract Expressionist galleries behind it, and it looks out to visitors passing the “corridor” I’m standing in going to the stairs. Over all these intervening decades, its never been moved from this spot. Little did I know when I took this Photograph on August 31st, it would be the last time I would see it here.

Fall brought the revelation that was Odyssey: Jack Whitten Sculpture 1963-2017, which opened at The Met Breuer just before History Refused to Die closed. Finally, and currently, back at 1000 Fifth Avenue, while the very good Delacroix show was going on down the hall, Epic Abstraction, opened on December 17th, a show I also find somewhat remarkable. It’s an “ongoing” show, meaning it has no end date at this point, largely because it and Reimagining Modernism, downstairs on the first floor, are reinstallations of works from The Met’s Permanent Collection, along with a few loans (in the case of Epic Abstraction).

Immediately adjacent to the sign, mere steps into the show, lookie here! It’s my old friend Autumn Rhythm! 

When I walked in the first time, I was startled to see that the show begins with Autumn Rhythm! Wow. They moved it! While I admired it at the beginning of this “epic” show, questions immediately flooded into my mind. An Abstraction show that BEGINS with Autumn Rhythm? That’s incredibly bold. Talk about throwing down a gauntlet for all that’s come after. Well, the subtitle of the show is Pollock to Herrera, so, chronologically, this is the beginning. That Sheena Wagstaff, Randall Griffey (credited with organizing Epic Abstraction & Reimagining Modernism- kudos) and the Modern & Contemporary Staff chose to move Autumn Rhythm and give it pride of place in this show I take as a “sign” they may agree with me about its importance. While I wondered what is going to maintain this level in the rest of the show to come, my mind then turned to the inevitable question- WHAT did they choose to hang in that prime spot where Autumn Rhythm hung for the past few decades?

Epic. Jackson Pollock, 3 Drawings, each, Untitled, 1938-41, Colored pencils and graphite on paper.

The first room is entirely devoted to the work of Jackson Pollock, except for one work- Kazuo Shiraga’s Untitled, 1958! Highlights, besides the reinstalled Autumn Rhythm include 3 spectacular colored pencil Drawings that should permanently quiet anyone who thinks that Jackson Pollock couldn’t draw. As remarkable as this start was, the second gallery is entirely devoted to Mark Rothko, save for a central sculpture by Isamu Noguchi! This is sure to stagger any long time Met goer. For decades, only 2 or 3 Rothkos have been on view at any given time. What museum on earth, besides the National Gallery in Washington, has enough Mark Rothkos sitting in storage to fill an entire gallery? Talk about an embarrassment of riches. I couldn’t believe it. Instantly, my fears about how they were going to keep the pace of this show going disappeared. Of course. They topped themselves.

Finally, making it through the first two galleries, still in shock, I turned the corner to finally see what was now in the spot Autumn Rhythm occupied. A sharp right turn, and my eyes alighted on this-

Mark Bradford, Duck Walk, 2016, Mixed media on canvas. Taking its title from Chuck Berry’s strut across the stage strumming his guitar, now hangs where Jackson Pollock’s Autumn Rhythm (Number 30) hung for decades.

If you don’t think a lot of thought went into this, Untitled, 1950, by Clyfford Still, one of Mark Bradford’s influences, hangs directly adjacent to it on the wall to the right, with the Sculpture, Raw Attraction, 2001, by Chakaia Booker, Rubber tire, steel, and wood, between them, behind the lady in red, and Tanktotem II by David Smith, barely seen at the far left.

Mark Bradford’s Duck Walk, 2016, a Mixed media on canvas diptych floored me the minute I saw it. It’s every bit as daring as Autumn Rhythm, in my opinion, done in a completely unique way, as Pollock’s was 66 years earlier in 1950. Mark Bradford uses layers of colored paper that he cuts through using a very wide range of techniques. Of course, Mr. Bradford didn’t do it in a vacuum. He’s had influences, including David Joseph Martinez and Clyfford Still, who’s been somewhat overlooked it seems to me among Abstract Expressionists. But not by Mark Bradford.

Detail of the center where the two canvases meet. Interestingly, the two pieces are shown in the opposite configuration on The Met’s website.

“Abstraction for me, I get it-you go internal, you turn off the world, you’re hermetic, you channel something. No. I’m not interested in that type of abstraction. I’m interested in the type of abstraction where you look out at the world, see the horror-sometimes it is horror-and you drag that horror kicking and screaming into your studio and you wrestle with it and you find something beautiful in it. That’s what I was always determined to do. I have never turned away.” Mark Bradford3.

Mrs. N’s Palace, 1964-77, by Louise Nevelson. Notice the black line on the floor going off to the left. That was left by a wall The Met took down to install this monumental work, the back of which is to the left. I’ve never seen this space, the room behind the Mark Bradfordls Duck Walk open like this before.

Now? Four visits in to Epic Abstraction, I can think of no other work in the show that deserves to be hung in this spot more. It not only holds its own with anything else in the show, which is a who’s who of Modern & Contemporary Abstractionists that includes de Kooning, Motherwell, Louise Nevelson, Franz Kline, Carmen Herrera, Cy Twombly, Dan Flavin, Alexander Calder, Joan Mitchell (including some pieces I’ve never seen on view), along with Pollock, Rothko and Noguchi. I was also very pleased to see that The Met managed to get a great work by a great contemporary Artist before the Artist’s prices made it possible only by donation. (Recently, tennis star John McEnroe sold a Painting by Mr. Bradford for over 12 million dollars at auction-to the Eli Broad Museum, in LA). It now joins single Paintings by Kerry James Marshall4 and Jack Whitten in The Met’s Modern & Contemporary Art collection, a collection that, unfortunately, can’t compare with the collections of museums in Chicago, L.A. or San Francisco in works by these Artists, at this point, due to…? I don’t know why. The Met owns 2 Paintings and a set of 6 prints, which are currently on display in the Drawings & Print Gallery, by Mark Bradford, seen below, with the accompanying card-

On the heels of Tomorrow is Another Day (named for the last spoken lines in Gone With The Wind), the show he mounted at the 2017 Venice Biennale after being chosen to represent the USA5, and his current installation, Pickett’s Charge, his largest work to date, currently on view at the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington (well, if and when the government re-opens, through 2021), I believe Mark Bradford is one of the world’s most important living Artists. He is an Artist who has been speaking truth about the reality of the world and the issues it faces from early on in his career and doing so in his own ways, developing unique techniques in a variety of medium. “The world is on fire,” he said in a 2017 interview in the catalog accompanying Pickett’s Charge, “whether we like it or not.” “I do feel there are moments in history when the intensity of the world in which you live comes to your door. We are at that moment now. There’s no way around it. Politically and socially we are at the edge of another precipice. I’m standing in the middle of a question about where we are as a nation6.”

Anselm Kiefer, Bohemia Lies By The Sea, 1996, 75 1/4 inches x 18 feet 5 inches, left, Kerry James Marshall, Untitled (Studio), 2014, Acrylic on PVC panels, 85 5/16 x 119 1/4 inches, right.

It’s also hard for me to not look at the choice of installing Duck Walk in this spot as a statement. Has the baton been passed to the next generation? Mark Bradford was born in 1961, 5 years after Jackson Pollock’s tragic early death. This baton passing might have also be happening downstairs in the Modern & Contemporary Mezzanine, Gallery 915, The Met’s large Anselm Kiefer, Bohemia Lies by the Sea, which for many, many years has occupied an end wall, has been moved to a side wall, and its former spot is now occupied by Kerry James Marshall’s Untitled (Studio). (Note- Anselm Kiefer was the subject of Provocations: Anselm Kiefer at The Met Breuer in early 2018).

If you continue further down the stairs to the first floor, you’ll discover the early Modern Art galleries have, also, been completely reinstalled, as Reimagining Modernism 1900-1950. It’s endlessly fascinating to me to see which pieces have come on display and which have gone into storage, (or loan?)

The signs they are a-changin’

Times are changing at The Met, in the Modern & Contemporary Galleries, and in the rest of the Museum, as new Director Max Hollein now takes charge (though I imagine Epic Abstraction & Reimagining Modernism were being planned prior). Along with The Met as a whole, the Modern & Contempoaray Department had another remarkable year. The list of memorable and/or important shows that have already appeared at The Met Breuer continues to grow. This is the second time in three years I’ve singled out Sheena Wagstaff and her Modern & Contemporary Department for having great years in NYC Art. Yes, the New Museum, who I singled out last year, continue to impress and grow, and yes MoMA had a number of memorable shows this year, including Stephen Shore  and two featuring the work of Charles White, the Guggenheim impressed with Danh Vo and Hilma af Klint, but none of them had the year The Met had, in my view, particularly in Modern & Contemporary Art.

They started from so far behind compared to the other Museums. I wonder how many others are now noticing.

BookMarks- I only list items in BookMarks that I strongly believe in and personally recommend. If you like what you see here, you can make a donation to help keep NHNYC.com ad-free through PayPal by clicking on the box to the right of the banner at the top of the page that will take you to the Donation button. Your support is VERY much appreciated. Thank you!

David Hockney’s Secret Knowledge (New and Expanded Edition): Rediscovering the Lost Techniques of the Old Masters is one of the most revelatory Art History books of the century thus far and is recommended to the Art History buff and the Art student. The Expanded Edition is only available in paperback, but it is the version I recommend. Keep an eye out for the excellent 2 part BBC Documentary, too.

His A History of Pictures: From the Cave to the Computer Screen, is a wider look at Art History, seen from an Artist’s perspective, which makes it somewhat unique, and is recommended for the general Art History student and buff. There is also a version for children.

Hockney’s Cameraworks is a remarkable book, unlike any other Photography monograph I know of. It includes a look at his Photography through 1984, along side a fascinating interview. Currently out of print, it’s highly recommended to Photographers, Hockney fans, and those interested in this sticky debate about perspective in Art, and definitely worth looking for. Copies in very good condition (minimal wear to the book or dust jacket, without marks of any kind or writing) may still be found for less than 100.00.

The best overview of Thornton Dial’s work, currently, is Thornton Dial in the 21st Century published by Tinwood Books in 2006. The time has come for a complete, comprehensive monograph on his life and work, and this, the best we currently have, is recommended until it arrives.

Mark Bradford (Phaidon Contemporary Artist Series) is the best and most current introduction to Mr. Bradford career. After that, it’s a toss up between 2010’s Mark Bradford published by Yale U. Press or Tomorrow Is Another Day, one of Michelle Obama’s “personal favorites.”  The Yale book is the most comprehensive book on his work to 2010, with the best images of his work to that date, while Tomorrow is an in-depth look at the work Mr. Bradford created for the US Pavillion at the 2017 Venice Biennale.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Coming Up” by Paul McCartney fromMcCartney II, 1980, seen here performing it with Wings, and Linda McCartney, Live in Kampuchea, 1979-

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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  1. Met attendance numbers quoted in this piece are from this press release. ↩
  2. //www.getty.edu/art/collection/objects/106006/david-hockney-pearblossom-hwy-11-18th-april-1986-1-british-1986/ ↩
  3. Mark Bradford: Phaidon Contemporary Artists Series, Interview with Anita Hill, P.18 ↩
  4. The Met also owns a woodcut (a print) by Mr. Marshall ↩
  5. Containing work that is now on view at the Baltimore Museum, under its Director, Christopher Bedford, long one of the leading Mark Bradford champions ↩
  6.  //hirshhorn.si.edu/exhibitions/mark-bradford-picketts-charge/ ↩

Burt Glinn: Meet The Beats

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*unless otherwise credited)

It’s impossible to walk around NYC and not be walking on history. More often than not? You’re walking on a spot where something historic happened. Usually, time and “progress” have left no reminder. You have to be an historian to know, or a long time resident to remember. Unless someone pulls your coat. Just this happened to me this past May 5th as I was walking down Cooper Square between East 4th and 5th Streets in the Lower East Side. When someone did…

Once upon a time…On THIS spot stood The Five Spot Cafe, Cooper Square at East 5th Street, Lower East Side, (LES), NYC, May 5, 2018. Well? It’s gone now. But, is it? Chalk Editor’s Note- Add “This” in front of “was once…” Click any Photo for full size.

This story begins with chalk on the pavement, and a box.

From everything I’ve heard about it, as a lifelong Jazz fan, and in preparing this piece, considering the Musicians who performed there, the Artists, Writers and Poets who frequented it? In the late 1950’s, the Five Spot was THE hippest place on earth. A temporary sign seen on the fence where it stood, above the sidewalk shot, May, 2018, shows Billie Holiday (who made some of her final performances here), Ornette Coleman, who changed the course of Jazz History, and a very rare Photo of Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane performing here, top, by unknown Photographers.

Shortly after the very moment I felt that tug on my coat, a discovery long hidden in the estate of a Magnum Photographer who passed away in 2008 would bring history back to life in the form of a PhotoBook and 2 shows. Before I get too far ahead of myself…

Magnum Photos has been around as the world’s leading Photo Agency, documenting what is history now for 71 years, since being founded by legends Robert Capa and Henri Cartier-Bresson along with David “Chim” Seymour, George Rodger, William & Rita Vendivert and Maria Eisner in 1947. Along the way many of the greatest Photographers of our time have been members at one point or another. Today, it’s going as strong as ever, with as well-rounded a roster as its possibly ever had, including Harry Gruyaert, who I recently interviewed, and other living legends, including Bruce Davidson, Elliott Erwitt and Susan Meiselas, as well as a veritable “all-star team” of younger Artists counting Alec Soth, Alessandra Sanguinetti, Cristina de Middel and, in 2018, Gregory Halpern among them.

Those who come now are standing on the shoulders of giants of Photography.

With so many luminaries in its already storied history, it’s easy for one to slip into a bit of a lack of attention from time to time. Take Burt Glinn for example. Born in Pittsburgh in 1925, he joined Magnum in 1951, one of the first group of Americans in the member owned organization. He became president of it in the 1970s and again in the 1980s. He achieved fame for his international work, including beautiful Portraits of Russia and Japan in color, as well as for his coverage of the Cuban Revolution, which saw him somehow gain access to Fidel Castro and his inner circle. Back at home, he profiled Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, and Katherine Hepburn, while also shooting Queen Elizabeth II’s visit to NYC. Burt Glinn is one of those Photographers who might illicit a “who?” from some today, but as soon as you start looking at his work, that’s quickly replaced by, “Oh, that’s his. So is that. So is that…” Like this one, perhaps the most famous image of Andy Warhol with Edie Sedgewick-

Andy Warhol with Edie Sedgwick and Chuck Wein, 1965, New York City. Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos.

Or, this unbelievable moment-

Nikita Khrushchev in front of the Lincoln Memorial, 1959, Washington, D.C. “Without a doubt,” the image of his that he most closely identifies with1. Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos.

But, there are many sides to the work of Burt Glinn. In fact, so many sides, some are still coming to light 10 years after his passing in 2008. While working on an upcoming Burt Glinn Retrospective, Michael Shulman of Magnum Photos, Elena Glinn, the Artist’s widow, and Tony Nourmand of Reel Art Press discovered a box labelled “nonconformists.” Inside were never before seen Photos of those legendary “nonconformists,” the Beats, along with his notes and an original Jack Kerouac manuscript! The Retrospective was immediately put on hold while Reel Art Press published the beautiful PhotoBook, Burt Glinn: the beat scene, in July, that includes the first color Photographs of the Beats ever published. Some of these images were then shown at the Beat Museum, San Francisco, in July, and now others, including many not published in the book, were exhibited at Burt Glinn: Photographs of the New York Beat Scene at New York’s renowned Jason McCoy Gallery, a 40 year fixture in the famous NYC Art Mecca, the Fuller Building, on West 57th Street, from September 12th through October 12th.

Installation view of the entrance to, Burt Glinn: Photographs of the New York Beat Scene, at Jason McCoy Gallery.

The NYC Art world is a mysterious place to most people on the outside, so having the rare chance to walk through a show in a famous gallery with its curator, particularly this show’s curator, Samantha McCoy, who works regularly with the Photographs of this Artist and his estate, at Magnum Photos, was a special privilege. It turned out that Samantha was also curating a show by Artist Carla Gimbatti at ChaShaMa– at the same time! “He’s a chameleon,” she warned me before we began. As we turned the corner into the first gallery, I saw what she meant.

Jack Kerouac holds forth to an enraptured audience, Seven Arts Coffee Gallery, 1959. This is how it started- with a poet or writer reading his work aloud in coffee shops, bars, or wherever they could.  I’d love to know if that woman laughing in the back was laughing at something Jack said, or not. Everyone else looks very serious. The beret became a Beat trademark. Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos courtesy Jason McCoy Gallery.

As we looked, it immediately became apparent that these aren’t just any Photos of the Beats (Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, LeRoi Jones, who was later change his name to Amiri Baraka, and Gregory Corso). They’re a fascinating window into their daily lives, an invitation to hang out with them in moments public and private, and, in a revelation, they also offer an unprecedented chance to see the Beats in the company of a number of Painters and Sculptors, including Helen Frankenthaler, Willem de Kooning, David Smith, Franz Kline, Joan Mitchell, Larry Rivers, and Musicians, including David Amram and Lee Bostic. These images fire the imagination as they draw you in to ponder just what was being discussed. In addition to being beautiful Photographs that add another dimension to Burt Glinn’s achievement, like so many of his other works, these are vitally important historical and cultural documents. To top it all off, the book and the shows mark the first time color Photographs of the Beats in their early days have been seen!

Young Helen Frankenthal her in her studio working on an abstract expressionist painting. I always look at her work and wonder how she Painted it. Now, I have an idea. Helen Frankenthaler at about age 28, rarely seen at work in this period, shown in the act of creation in her NYC studio in 1957, in color! Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos courtesy Jason McCoy Gallery.

Given her experience working with Burt Glinn’s Photographs at Magnum, I asked Samantha what surprised her about this newly discovered body of work. “Before learning about the release of the beat scene by Reel Art Press, I was actually not at all familiar with this particular body of work,” she said. “It was a surprising and exciting discovery. I found it particularly impressive to learn that Burt had followed the Beats on his own accord2. As Elena Glinn informed me, ‘It was Burt’s roommate, Clay Felker, who had said to Burt, ‘We have to do something with these nonconformists who are all over the place. Go after those guys. Go to openings.’ Burt just did it, and he went to everything. He went to the poetry readings, to the gallery openings, to artist’s studios.'”

3 years younger than Jack Kerouac, a year older than Allen Ginsberg and 3 years older than Helen Frankenthaler, Burt fit right in with the Beats and the Artists.

” I love how Burt is able to transport you to this pivotal time in New York; he had this uncanny ability to really capture the atmosphere in such a way that you feel you are there,” Ms. McCoy added. “He was a true chameleon in that sense. And then, of course, to put this series into the context of everything else he was shooting at that time is all the more riveting. He was an immensely gifted storyteller.”

Speaking of telling stories, Samantha McCoy was, also, doing just that in the way she installed the show. As we see in this particularly interesting grouping she chose. Upper left, Dancer Anita Huffington and Willem de Kooning, 1957 NYC, Painter Barnett Newman at a gallery opening, 1957, NYC, right. Lower left and lower right- 2 Photos from the series Jack Kerouac holds forth to an enraptured audience, Seven Arts Coffee Gallery, 1959. As she says, Burt Glinn seemed to be everywhere.

I asked Samantha about the her groupings that seem to tell “short stories” within the larger body, and about her approach to installing this show. She said, “This is a very keen observation, and was definitely on my mind while curating, though I must say Burt’s work lends itself to this type of curation.”

Four from the series, Things get rough. John Rapinic restraints Corso who hurls insults at reporter: “But you don’t understand Kangaroonian weep! For sake thy trade! Flee to Enchenedian Islands”
And foreground, wizened Kerouac plays it cooler, 1959, NYC. That is Burt Glinn’s title for this series!

She continued, “There were so many anecdotes that spoke to me when I was making the edit, so I suppose I was hoping to give each of them life. The Beat life in New York was full of small stories, in different landscapes and pockets of New York. I wanted the viewer to have a feeling of all of them, as well as the scope of this movement.”

This wall, in particular, is full of unexpected intimacies. It starts with LeRoi Jones at home, Newark, New Jersey, USA, 1959, seen, apparently unawares, sitting in the window of his Jersey City home, right, and includes Photos of Helen Frankenthaler hugging David Smith, far left and below, as well as the group of four seen just earlier.

Particularly interesting to me is that these Photos were taken at the exact moment when the first generation Abstract Expressionists were seeing their hold on the cult of culture in NYC begin to gravitate to the Beats3, which would continue well into the Rock ‘n Roll era of the 1960s and beyond. NYC, and indeed, the world, would never be the same.

HOW was Burt Glinn able to get this shot? Painter Helen Frankenthaler and Sculptor David Smith in Frankenthaler’s studio, New York City, 1957. My favorite image in the show. David Smith is a very under-appreciated Artist, today, in my view, but not, apparently, by Ms. Frankenthaler.

Installation view of the excellent David Smith: Origins & Inventions, Hauser & Wirth, NYC, December 21, 2017.

No less than half of the Photos included in the show (22) were taken in 1957, the year On The Road was published, the very moment the Beats rose to cultural and literary prominence. That same summer, on stage at the Five Spot, the great Thelonious Monk was joined by the equally great John Coltrane, recordings of which were discovered and released in 1993. A further 14 of these Photos were taken in 1959, the year that Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, Larry Rivers, and David Amram, featured here, also appeared in Robert Frank’s legendary film, Pull My Daisy. And, 1959 was also the year that Burt Glinn received the Matthew Brady Award for Magazine Photographer of the Year from the University of Missouri. Heady times, indeed.

Burt Glinn’s startling color Photos of the Beats are the first ever published. Here- A Chess interlude during a break in the revelry at the Blackhawk, a night spot on the corner of Turk and Hyde Street where eminent jazz performers are often to be found in action. The player making the move here is Earl Bostic virtuoso of the loud  tone alto, 1960, San Francisco.

Although he later went to San Francisco to Photograph the Beat scene there, only one of those shots is on view here. “I really wanted to stay focused on the New York work,” Samantha said.

The crowd outside the Five Spot. I love that the sign scream THIS is the place! Unknown date. Unknown Photographer.

In New York, along with the famous Cedar Tavern, perhaps no where was more the place to be in the day than the Five Spot. There aren’t many Photos of the club, or what was going on inside of it, so Burt Glinn’s are an invaluable addition to those we have, taking us right into the midst of it.

Live from the Five Spot. This looks like Burt Glinn was actually right onstage! David Amran entertains at the Five Spot Cafe, 1957. Then, as now, a French Horn is still unusual to see in a Jazz club. Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos courtesy Jason McCoy Gallery.

Then, there are the recollections of those who were there4. I asked gallery owner Jason McCoy what he thought of the show, he said, “The photographs and the New York light brought back a nostalgia and sense of smell I associate with tenement hallways in Chinatown and in the Bowery, all places frequented by artists in those days!”

A back table at the Five Spot. left to right are sculptor David Smith, Art guru frank O’Hara, 
a poet; Larry rivers and grace Harriman, both artists; an economist, Sydney Rolfe, dancer Anita Huffington, and Bill Hunter a neurosurgeon. The lady with her back to the camera is painter Helen Frankenthaler. Peak crowd is about midnight. In quieter moments a poet will sometimes read his verse to the music. Bar jumps till 4 AM, NYC, 1957. A wonderful composition. My guess is that this is the corner seen in the top, right of center in the preceding Photo. Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos courtesy Jason McCoy Gallery.

During this time, Burt Glinn was not only busy documenting the activities of the famous and the rising stars, he was also, everywhere else. He showed up at parties where none of the “big names” were. He haunted side streets as well as the bars, all of this enabled him to capture the full flavor of the scene, catching its atmosphere as he strove to find its essence. He’s even in Washington Square as the sun rises on a new day catching a lone minstrel with an acoustic guitar putting the night to bed with a song.

It’s a new day rising. A streak of loneliness runs through these Gordy evenings on the town. Today, a lone guitarist plays the last music of the night, NYC, 1959. Photo by Burt Glinn/Magnum Photos courtesy Jason McCoy Gallery.

No matter where he is, in his photos you’re right there- sitting at a crowded table, having drinks, and discussing literature, poetry, Art, life. You’re hunched in a corner of the Five Spot listening to the band, though you can’t even see all the musicians. Or, you’re listening to the Beat poets recite or test drive their latest creation at 2 a.m. You’re in the studio with Helen Frankenthaler, Willem de Kooning, and others. You’re going over to visit LeRoi Jones…

For the Beats, it was the best of times. Soon, millions of young people (including four lads from Liverpool, England, who would borrow the name) would aspire to be part of what was happening right in front of Burt Glinn’s lens. Back when very few knew.

Walking into history. Samantha McCoy told me chose this work to close the show as a “fitting farewell.” From left to right: Gregory Corso, Allen Ginsberg, and an unidentified woman. New York City, USA, 1957.

Jack Kerouac knew. He wrote a piece to accompany Burt’s Photographs called “and this is the beat nightlife of new york,” which reminded me why I went through a “Kerouac period.” Fittingly, the original was found with them. Where it belongs. Like in a time capsule. A parchment testament of the times.

But not the New York Times, these are the On The Road times. The Dharma Bums times. The Howl times. The Subterraneans times. The ‘Round Midnight times. The Pull My Daisy times.

The times they were a-changin.

5 Cooper Square, NYC, October, 2018.

BookMarks–

As seen at The Strand Bookstore.

the beat scene: Photographs by Burt Glinn– Includes that terrific essay by Jack Kerouac, “and this is the beat nightlife of new york,” 170 Photographs, including the first 70 color Photos of the Beats in their early days ever published, and many Photos that show more of the public, and private, life of the Beats, the Artists, Musicians and others. It’s a unique PhotoBook because it shows seminal figures in 20th century Art, Music and Literature in close proximity as they live their lives at what was a key moment in each of their lives, and the culture of the world, along with other folks the world either never knew or has already forgotten, who, as Samantha McCoy said, “were more friends and drinking buddies.” Recommended.

Allen Ginsberg Photographs, 1990- is the other classic book of Photographs of the Beats. Ginsberg is a Poet whose work seems every bit as relevant today as it was when he wrote it, and his Photographs came to public attention, and acclaim, late in his life. They deserve the acclaim, in my opinion. Andrew Roth agreed and he included Allen Ginsberg: Photographs in his The Book of 101 Books: Seminal PhotoBooks of the Twentieth Century, one of the standard references on the subject for many. To date, I have only seen 1991 second edition copies and I found the reproductions lacking, though they are printed in a nice size. Perhaps the paper hasn’t aged well, I’m not sure. Perhaps they’re better in the out of print first edition, or perhaps this important part of Mr. Ginsberg’s oeuvre needs a new edition. In that case, unlike Allen Ginsberg: Photographs, he will no longer be able to oversee it, unfortunately. Recommended, if you can find a copy who’s reproductions do justice to the work.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is The Thelonious Monk Quartet: Live at the Five Spot: Discovery!, a very rare meeting of two Musical giants of the 20th century, Monk & John Coltrane, (let alone whoever may  have been in the audience that night), part of which you can hear, here-

My thanks to Samantha McCoy of Magnum Photos, and to Jason McCoy and Amanda Konishi of Jason McCoy Gallery.

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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  1.  https://web.archive.org/web/20091229204516/http://www.nppa.org:80/news_and_events/news/2008/04/glinn.html ↩
  2. Later, he was given an assignment to Photograph the San Francisco Beats for Holiday Magazine. Some of these images were last, and only, seen there, and in a few other magazines of the time. The rest have not been seen previously. ↩
  3. Partially due to the tragic death of Jackson Pollock, Jason McCoy’s uncle, on August 11, 1956 at 44 ↩
  4. You can read the recollections of some of the Musicians who played there, here. ↩

Behind Closed Doors With Saul Leiter

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*unless otherwise credited)

One of the few good things about being out on a rainy day is that I use the opportunity to look around and see if I can see a “Saul Leiter.” Maybe the rain is being reflected off the pavement glistening in some unusual shade of neon, or a bright red umbrella will slice through the grey air unexpectedly, or I’ll see shapes abstracted through a misty cab window and try to figure out what they are…the possibilities are seemingly endless…

Outside the galleries…July, 2018.

Given how popular Saul Leiter has become, I doubt I’m the only one who does this.

Street Scene, 1959, by Saul Leiter, seen at the Howard Greenberg Gallery Viewing Room. Saul Leiter started out to be a Painter. To my eyes, works like these brilliantly walk the line between abstraction and realism, showing how abstraction is all around us in the “real world,” in ways, perhaps, only Ernst Haas was doing at the time, among Photographers. Meanwhile the “New York School” of Abstract Expressionists, including his friend, Richard Pousette-Dart, was revolutionizing Painting.

Of course, Saul Leiter (1923-2013) was able to make great Photos in any light, and included among them, he struck me as having a unique way with inclemency. It’s just one way that he’s impacted the way I see the world. For those who love Saul Leiter’s work, too much of it is never enough. So, the chance to see more is an event. Recently, two such chances appeared- a show at Howard Greenberg Gallery, which was accompanied by the release of a new Steidl book, both titled In My Room.

Self-Portrait with Inez. The first Photo in the book and the only time the Artist appears in it. *Photo courtesy the Saul Leiter Foundation and Steidl.

They center around a body of work that almost no one saw during the Artist’s lifetime, a collection of “intimate” Photographs taken of his female friends, often in various stages of dressing/undress. The show adds a second body of seldom seen work, Saul Leiter’s “Painted Nudes,” works that consist of black & white prints from the “intimate” series that he then hand Painted. First shown in the U.S. in 2014, to date they are the only body of Saul Leiter’s Paintings we’ve gotten to see. Having only seen them in the book “Saul Leiter: Painted Nudes,” which was released in 2015, this was my first time seeing some of them in person.

Inez, c.1947. One of the earlier works in this show.

Saul Leiter took thousands of nude Photographs of his friends and lovers between about 1947 through the early 1970s. Perhaps the first thing that’s interesting about them is they’re in black & white, though he worked exclusively in color during most of that period. Why are these then in black & white? The best theory I’ve heard is that he was able to develop and print them in his home darkroom, and could, therefore, keep them private. As a result, almost no one saw them. One of the few who did was his former art director at Harper’s Bazaar, Henry Wolf, who wanted to publish a selection of them as a book in the 1970’s. It didn’t come to pass then. By this point, Saul Leiter had fallen into eclipse. A total eclipse that had him completely out of the view of the public.

“I spent a great deal of my life being ignored. I was always very happy that way. Being ignored is a great privilege. That is how I think I learned to see what others do not see and to react to situations differently. I simply looked at the world, not really prepared for anything1.”

He got his wish, but It wasn’t always so.

The great Photographer Edward Steichen, then Director of Photography at MoMA2, included 5 works by Saul Leiter in his 1953 group show, Always the Young Stranger, the title a line borrowed from Carl Sandburg, who the show was intended as a 75th Birthday tribute to. He subsequently went on to a long career in fashion working for some of the most renowned publications of the time, until one day, he walked away, fed up with the micro-management that had crept into his shoots. He was rarely seen again until Steidl released the instant classic, Saul Leiter: Early Color, in 2006, launching the Saul Leiter renaissance. Now in its 8th edition, Early Color was followed by Early Black & White, in 2014, a year after Saul Leiter passed away, a week short of his 90th birthday. Now, In My Room brings Henry Wolf’s idea full circle. It’s dedicated to him.

Saul Leiter: In My Room, just published by Steidl. 148 pages, 81 images.

Saul Leiter is often referred to as “a pioneer of color Photography.” What, exactly, do they mean? Apparently he, too, was puzzled. “I’m supposed to be a pioneer in color. I didn’t know I was a pioneer….,” he told Time Magazine, in 2013. Fascinated by the history of color in Photography, I’ve spent most of this year researching it, which may help me understand what they mean. The story of color in Fine Art Photography is one that has only gradually, and relatively recently, been coming more to light. So entrenched has black & white Photography been in the Art world, that it seems that many Photographers kept their color work to themselves, when it wasn’t commissioned for magazines. It makes me wonder- if color film had been invented first, would black & white still have dominated? Maybe in media where color printing/reproducing technology hadn’t yet been invented, but in the world of Art? I wonder. In the world of Painting, even going back to ancient times, the Artist was working in color. Interestingly, Drawings (which are most often in pencil, and hence, in black & white) are often seen and still treated as “preliminary works” to something more “finished,” even when they ARE the final work. A preference for black & white imagery exists nowhere else in the world of Art besides the place it held in Photography until the 1970s.

New York City, USA, 1953. It’s got to be by Saul Leiter…right?

Meanwhile, Steichen in Color Portraits, Fashion & Experiments by Edward Steichen shows the aforementioned Edward Steichen’s color images from 1908!, on. Jacques-Henri Lartigue began making color images in 1912. Ansel Adams was making color images in the 1940’s, as was Keld Helmer-Petersen, who’s book Keld Helmer-Petersen: 122 Colour Photographs: Books on Books No. 14, released in 1948, will astound lovers of William Eggleston and Stephen Shore. Eliot Porter was making them in the 1950’s…And then there is Ernst Haas. It was Ernst Haas, and NOT William Eggleston who was given the FIRST show of color Photographs ever at MoMA in 1962, a full 14 years before Photographs by William Eggleston!, and its classic accompanying catalog William Eggleston’s Guide, finally marked the beginning of the acceptance of color Photography into the world of Fine Art Photography. Haas’ abstract works of the 1950’s on were seen in the terrific Steidl book, Ernst Haas: Color Correction: 1952–1986, that reveals another side of the Artist, one who loved abstraction, that stands in contrast to the somewhat staid image many had, and still have, of Ernst Haas. In fact, the image just above is not by Saul Leiter. It’s New York City, USA, 1953, by Ernst Haas, from Color Correction! There are, no doubt, others who will still come to light, as Fred Herzog, who also took color Photos of Vancouver in the 1950’s, has more recently (Mr. Herzog is an admirer of Saul Leiter’s). Helen Levitt Photographed NYC in color in 1958-9, but, unfortunately, most of those images were lost in a fire. She later went back out and shot the images included in the terrific book, Slide Show: The Color Photographs of Helen Levitt.” So? Saul Leiter was one of the first Photographers to take color Photographs on the streets in NYC, and so, he is a pioneer, though he is not a “street Photographer” like Robert Frank or Garry Winogrand3. His was an Artist’s eye, and that’s on view in all of his work, inside and outside of his Apartment, in Photography and in Painting, and, in my view, has a difference effect than street Photography does.

“They’re people who are driven by the notion…they sacrifice everything for success. I didn’t feel that way. I attached more importance to the idea that there might be someone who might love me and who I might love4.”

Both works are titled Soames, c.1960 featuring his long time lover and partner, the Artist Soames Bantry. Perhaps as close as Saul Leiter got to finding that person. A number of these images take advantage of furnishings, windows, or items in the apartment. Here both shots feature the same mirror.

I had those words in my mind as I walked through “In My Room” at Howard Greenberg. I’m not sure there’s really any other way to look at these images. Yes, we see them as “Fine Art” now, but back then they were among the most personal images Saul Leiter ever created, and his statement, above, speaks as much to what may have been one his mind in creating them as anything else I’ve read does. In the new Steidl book, the images are not captioned or dated, and the subject is not identified. And so, the book becomes a sort of scrapbook of intimate moments Saul Leiter shared with these women- lovers, and friends who felt comfortable being nude with him.

Installation view of In My Room.

As such, they’re intimate beyond the nudity. The women, obviously, feel free to be themselves while the Artist approaches taking their pictures in ways that will look familiar to those who know his color work, where it often feels like he is almost eavesdropping on his subject. Here, and in the book, it feels as if he is always watching them. But, it’s not mutual. by my count of the images in the book, out of 81, only in 14 do the women make eye contact with him, in 18 they appear to be asleep, and in a further 11 they’re awake but lying down. In 44 they are nude or topless. Abstraction plays a lesser role here compared with his more familiar color work, but it’s here in the unusual camera angles he uses, and in seeing his subject through doors, furniture, or in mirrors. But posing is never going on here. The natural postures are striking, completely unlike anything you’d find in texts about Drawing or Painting from live models. This is particularly fascinating given that Saul Leiter was, also, a Painter who revered Vermeer5.

Pierre Bonnard, Mirror on the Wash Stand, 1908, Oil on canvas. Early on, Bonnard was a founding member of the avant-garde group Les Nabis. *Unknown Photographer.

Roger Szmulewicz, Director of Gallery Fifty-One, Antwerp, who have represented Saul Leiter, and now his Foundation, since at least 2008 (Howard Greenberg Gallery, who have been showing Saul Leiter since at least 2006, is the other representative of the Saul Leiter Foundation), said, “The influence of his Painting on his Photographs is made apparent when the two are present side by side6.” As they are in this show, though the Paintings are not his “pure” Paintings, but created on existing Photographs. When I look at these works side by side (the Photos and the “Painted Nudes”), it is possible to see the influence of another of his favorite Painters, Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947). Saul Leiter was 24 when Bonnard passed away. There was a posthumous exhibition of Bonnard’s work at MoMA in 1948 with over 150 items, 2 years after Saul Leiter moved to NYC from Pittsburgh to become a Painter, so it’s possible he saw it. Interestingly, these “intimate works” seem to begin around 1947, shortly after he began taking Photographs.

Snow Scene, 1960

Saul Leiter’s color work is renowned for the astonishing way he uses color, but it seems to me that it’s equally impressive for his breaking of the “rules of composition.” His subject will be seen off center, or not complying with the “rule of thirds,” or be in shadows (even partially obscured as above), behind or visible through an object, window or mirror in the foreground. Sometimes, these foreground hindrances act as “curtains,” perhaps, a distant echo of Vermeer’s use of curtains.

Kathy, 1952.. Inscribed on the back- “In the collection of the Museum of Modern Art.”

Most intriguingly for me, Saul Leiter, like William Eggleston, Henri-Cartier Bresson and others, is another great Photographer who was also a Painter. My opinion is that being a Painter played an important role in the impact of their Photography, and is very possibly a reason why their work “looks different” from many other Photographers. When I see a Leiter or an Eggleston, it often feels to me that they are doing things they don’t do with Paint. Focusing on a detail that would seem to be too slight or unimportant for a whole Painting, or capturing a fleeting moment when light, setting and people are aligned for a split second. Or, in his “intimate” indoor work, capturing postures that are rarely seen in Paintings, perhaps, because they can’t be held long enough.

Barbara, 1950, left, Soames, c. 1960, top right, Untitled, 1950s, bottom right.

Saul Leiter is not often thought of as a portraitist, but he did them over his long career7. The portraits included here are beautiful, typically different but wonderfully evocative.

Inez, c.1947.

The lighting in these works is the natural light coming in through the large windows or the electrical lights in his apartment. No flash or extra lights.

All in all, the “intimate” series presents a remarkable tour de force of possibilities, of living in the moment, and of working creatively with whatever that moment presents to you, which is, of course, exactly what we see him capturing outside on the street in Early Color, but minus the personal element, which is entirely absent there. Those subjects are not connected, either to each other or to the Photographer. Here they are.

Barbara and Bettina, c.1950.

We’re told going in that these women are lovers and friends of Saul Leiter, though it might be hard to see that in these works. The Artist appears with one of the women in only two Photos (one in the show, and one in the book). There is no interaction beyond an occasional glance. There is comfort, obviously, but nothing is being done together. There is affection, but no romance or anything more. And so, when all is said and done, the overriding feeling I come away with is a sense of isolation on the part of the subject and the Photographer.

Inez, c.1947, left. Inez c.1947 above, right, and Self Portrait with Inez, c.1947, bottom right.

To outsiders, these Photos show the relaxed, natural beauty of his friends, in studies and portraits of them in the moment, and moment to moment.  Though they are “intimate,” no love or physical intimacy is taking place in them. Maybe it already has, or is about to, and what we’re seeing in a number of these works is the moments after, or before. A number of the Photos in the show are not in the book. Whatever the case may be, since he knew these women, they are momentos of intimacy, and possibly, momentos of moments where that search for “someone who could love me” was close at hand, proof that it WAS possible to find.

Then, there were the “Painted Nudes.”

A selection of works from the “Painted Nudes” group. All of these works are gouache, casein and watercolor on silver gelatin paper.

The “Painted Nudes” are often revelations. They look like nothing else I’ve seen. Here and there one might spot a passage reminiscent of Degas, but the brushwork, and the choice of color, is daring…free and exciting, at times reminiscent of his beloved Pierre Bonnard (particularly his lateSelf Portrait, 1939-42), but always wholly in his own style. The paint bursts with energy…motion…even when the woman is lying at rest. Seeing some of them for the first time, I wondered why the great Richard Pousette-Dart steered Saul Leiter to Photography. Not that I’m questioning the judgement of the most overlooked Abstract Expressionist, not enough of Saul Leiter’s Painting has been placed before the public to form any full sense of his talent and the scope of his achievement.

Untitled, 1970s-90s

Of Painting, Saul Leiter said, “I sometimes thought that maybe I would have been a better photographer if I were not a painter. And then sometimes I thought that maybe if I were not wasting my time doing photography maybe I’d be a better painter. But, in the end, I did both. I enjoy taking a brush and making a mark. Then making another mark. It’s a little bit almost like jazz, you know? You don’t know what you’re going to do8.”

Untitled, 1987. Unprecedented. About as abstract as anything the Abstract Expressionists were doing, but with a Photo added.

Of the group on view at Howard Greenberg, I find the best of these works to be terrific and they left me longing to see Saul Leiter’s “other” Paintings that are not done on top of Photographs. They may well be yet another body of Saul Leiter’s work that has gone under-appreciated for too long. Wouldn’t that be something if Saul Leiter turned out to be a great Photographer AND a great Painter?

Untitled, 1970s-90s.

At the moment, Saul Leiter has rapidly been ascending to his rightful place as one of the Master Photographers of the 20th Century. Having been forgotten for decades of his life, it now seems highly unlikely the world will forget Saul Leiter again.

BookMarks-

Steidl’s series of books share the same book design as Early Color, which was done by Martin Harrison. If it ain’t broke…

“Saul Leiter: Early Color” is the place to start exploring the work of Saul Leiter. Just reissued in its 8th edition, in my view, it is one of the “must have” PhotoBooks released thus far this century. For a wider view of his work, pairing “Early Color,” with Steidl’s “Saul Leiter: Early Black and White” provides a good overview of his non-commercial Photography- at least as far as his large body of his work has been reintroduced to us thus far, especially while the latter is still in print. To supplement these, “Saul Leiter – All About Saul Leiter (Japanese and English Edition),” the catalog for a Retrospective in Japan last year, is a gorgeous, small, 300 page volume. Rumor has it that it is to be released in the USA later this year, but the original edition was named one of the 3 best PhotoBooks of the year by no less than Photographer Todd Hido. Two other retrospectives of note are much harder to find, especially at cheaper prices- Saul Leiter (Retrospektive/Retrospective published in 2012 by Kehrer Verlag is a 300 page volume that’s a full 9 by 10 inches. Second, there is the catalog for the show at the Henri Cartier-Bresson Foundation they co-published with Steidl in 2008, simply titled Saul Leiter. At 150 pages it’s a smaller retrospective, but benefits from a beautiful Steidl production. Finally, Saul Leiter: In My Room offers the best look we’re likely to get at Saul Leiter’s “intimate” work and nudes. Just published by Steidl, it includes 81 Photos, with only a few previously seen in Early Black & White. It’s far and away the most intimate and personal collection of Saul Leiter’s work. For the rest of us, who didn’t know these women, it’s something of a classic of the unguarded moment, filled with marvelously unconventional poses and compositions. It fills out our picture of Saul Leiter’s accomplishment, adding a very personal group of works that held a very special place in his life to those, largely impersonal work seen previously. It is another book that will surprise and enthrall his growing number of fans. Finally, Painted Nudes, published by Sylph Editions in 2015 is something of a sleeper. To date, it is the only book length collection of his Painting thus far released. Consisting of  black & white prints of nudes from the “intimate” series the Artist then hand Painted, as I said above, it leaves me yearning to see more of his Painting.

Regarding Ernst Haas, Color Correction is out of print and fine copies are trading for hundreds of dollars on the secondary market. However, if you look hard, there’s a little known French edition that’s still in print and available for about $60. I’ve compared them and they contain the same images, the same number of pages, but the introduction and the essay are in French. Steidl is about to release a new book, Ernst Haas: Abstrakt, which will include 118 of his abstract images and so is certainly a book anyone interested in Mr. Haas should check out.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “In My Room,” by the Beach Boys, which they wrote during the time Saul Leiter was taking his “intimate” Photos, as performed by the amazing Jacob Collier -an Artist who created this entire recording in his room!

My thanks to Monika Condrea and Steidl.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 6 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. If you’ve found it worthwhile, you can donate to keep it going & ad-free below. Thank you!

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here.
Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them.
For “short takes” and additional pictures, follow @nighthawk_nyc on Instagram.

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  1. “Saul Leiter,” 2008 Co-published by Steidl and the Foundation Henri-Cartier Bresson ↩
  2. from 1947-61, when he was succeeded by John Szarkowski, who went on to be a major shaper of the world of modern Fine Art Photography, and who he selected for the post. ↩
  3. Saul Leiter is barely mentioned in Joel Meyerowitz & Colin Westerbeck’s Bystander: A History of Street Photography,” Joel Meyerowitz is, also, a Photographer who worked with color early on, beginning in 1962. ↩
  4. Saul Leiter quoted in the introductory video on saulleiterfoundation.org ↩
  5. “My favorite Painter is Vermeer,” Saul Leiter: I just want to be left alone, Published 2015, Interview with Sebastian Piras in 2009 ↩
  6. “Saul Leiter Photographs and Works on Paper, Gallery Fifty-One, P.3 ↩
  7. Including a fascinating series of Diane Arbus in 1970, in her own space, that (not nude) have an intimacy akin to that seen in these works. ↩
  8. School of Visual Arts interview, 2013 ↩

Three Years of NighthawkNYC!

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

July 15th, 2018 marks the third Anniversary of NighthawkNYC.com. Almost 200 pieces in (24 full length pieces thus far in 2018 alone!), I feel like a largely different person today- wholly as a result of this site. I’m not talking about the full time job it became early on, one that swallowed my “life” such as it was whole, in one gulp. I’m talking about all the learning that’s happened from assimilating all I’ve seen, read, and heard. It’s time to pause and reflect.

Art Heaven. “Hey, man. Question- How do you get all of those empty gallery shots?” The answer? Patience. That’s right. I pick my spot and wait until I get it. Just go when it’s not likely to be packed! This one of the Grand Staircase at The Met in February might be my favorite. It makes it feel like it’s open just for me.

First, and foremost, my thanks to all of you who take the time to read these pages. Over three years, I’ve heard from many of you, and I appreciate your taking the time to write, offer feedback, comments and support.

Two generations of Magnum Photos. The legendary Susan Meiselas, left, a former Magnum Photos President, and the creating-her-own-legend-as-we-speak, Bieke Depoorter, right, one of Magnum’s newer members, at Aperture, June 15, 2018.

Thanks to the Artists who have taken their valuable time to speak with me as I work on these pieces, and then after to give me their feedback. 

The great Sanle Sory, all the way from Burkina Faso, graciously poses for me at the opening of the terrific show of his studio portraits from the 1960s to the 80s at Yossi Milo Gallery on April 26. He’s every bit as nice as he is talented. And that’s saying something.

After long thought and discussions, I recently added a Paypal Donation button, accessible by clicking the white box at the upper right of the screen to help defray expenses and keep this site ad-free and independent. I want NighthawkNYC to be about Art, Music and Life, and having written for a national Music magazine for 4 years, I relish the independence I now have. Being independent means I get to write about shows that speak to me, and hopefully others, shows that I feel are important.

Yayoi Kusama, Infinity Mirror Room, at David Zwirner, December, 2017. I waited over 2 hours on a frigid day to spend the 60 seconds visitors were permitted in this space. Hmmm…

It also comes with responsibility. As you may have noticed, I don’t write about shows I don’t like, or that don’t speak to me. Why? I don’t believe in being negative. It’s very hard to survive as an Artist or Musician in 2018. I prefer to revisit things that don’t speak to me now in the future and reassess. I’ve discovered a lot of great Artists that way. Part of my goal with this site is to give those who don’t have a chance to see these shows a sense of what they were like. Of course, given the sheer volume of shows going on in Manhattan (let alone the rest of the City and now New Jersey), there’s just no way I can cover all of them. I have to be selective. While I have included Artists who are not “big names” yet but are doing great and/or important work that I feel deserve to be better known, I’d like to ramp this up going forward. I’m always looking for “candidates.”

Photography has taught me to open my eyes and look more carefully at the world around me.

Looking back over these 3 years, it’s obvious that the amount of coverage I’ve given to Painting has been on the decline, while Photography has, almost, taken over. Two years running, I have had the most extensive coverage of The Photography Show/AIPAD anywhere. (2017, here. 2018, here). What can I say? It’s a symptom of my seeing fewer and fewer Painting shows in the galleries that speak to me. Painting remains my favorite Artform, so this pains me very much. On the other hand, given that there are more cameras in the world than people, that people are living and working longer, that Photographic technology has been growing and evolving as never before in this century, it’s all combined to create an almost perfect storm, putting us, it seems to me, in a “golden age” of Photography. A big part of what’s created this moment is that Photography is (often) best seen in PhotoBooks and not on gallery or museum walls.

Dashwood Books in SoHo carries nothing but PhotoBooks.

This has led to an unprecedented explosion of PhotoBooks from famous and unknown Photographers and PhotoBook publishers big, small and D.I.Y. Somewhat remarkably, this is a movement that has almost entirely resisted electronic books (eBooks) in favor of good ole physical books. In fact, the publishers I spoke to at AIPAD this year UNANIMOUSLY told me they have NO intention of going to eBooks! This has brought an unprecedented number of Photographers into the consciousness of the world at large, whereas in the past, great Photographers (like Saul Leiter, Fred Herzog and many others) worked for much of their lives completely ignored. It is now possible to see more Photographs by more Photographers in a visit to a good bookstore than it is to ANY museum or gallery in the world. This is more than a publishing revolution. It’s an indication that the way Artists reach their public is changing, something that could have huge ramifications for the Art World as a whole. Buckle up! It’s going to be utterly fascinating to see how this plays out.

10:26pm at the world famous Strand Bookstore’s Art Book Department. 4 minutes before closing. The last one out, again. I’m here an average of 4 times a week. Some weeks more.

And so, as you may have also noticed, books have come more and more to the fore. I’ve always mentioned them. In response to requests I’ve gotten for recommendations of places to start delving into an Artist, I decided to devote a section at the end of the piece I call “BookMarks” to recommended books. Of course, many Artists have extensive bibliographies (and then there’s Picasso…or Daido Moriyama), so it’s often hard to decide where to start. I decided to share my thoughts since I generally look at as many books as I can find on an Artist I’m writing about, and I wind up living with a good many of them (cough). As far as I know, I was the first one to bring to public attention that Chris Ware’e superb book Monograph comes in a limited, signed, edition. Even the publisher, Rizzoli, made no mention of it. I heard from a number of you who were subsequently able to get a copy. Though “BookMarks” is new, I want to thank Monika Condrea and Steidl, the world’s premier PhotoBook publisher, for their support, and the Guggenheim Museum for their support of my Chinese Contemporary Art & Danh Vo pieces.

Amerika the Stoker, 1993-94, by my late friend, Tim Rollins & K.O.S. seen in American Landscape at Lehmann Maupin in May, 2018.

Three years later, in addition to being fortunate enough to have seen so many amazing shows, meeting so many Artists and speaking to so many art lovers, gallerists and scholars, as it was when I started NHNYC, the main joy for me remains learning- discovering someone new and great I didn’t previously know and/or discovering a new great work by, enlightening fact about, or gaining a new insight into an Artist I do know.

Her shirt reads “Something good is worth finding.” It could be my mantra.

In mulling it all over? If there’s one thing I have learned it’s that there’s A LOT to learn, see, explore and even enjoy. Three years in? As the song, “The Rhythm Changes” says, I’m still here, but I’ve only scratched the surface. 

“Are we there yet?”

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “The Rhythm Changes,” by Kamasi Washington & Patrice Quinn from The Epic. genius.com commenter, Crown_of_the_Barren-Synod said of this track, “While our opinions, beliefs, physical characteristics and even our personality can change with time there is still some being- our self- which transcends all of these characteristics and their transience.”

Special Thanks to Kitty for research assistance.
Special Thanks to Sv for pushing me to begin, and since, for her support.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 6 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. If you’ve found it worthwhile, you can donate to keep it going & ad-free below. Thank you!

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here.
Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them.
For “short takes” and additional pictures, follow @nighthawk_nyc on Instagram.

Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

 

Thomas Cole- Ahead of His Time. And Ours

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*unless otherwise credited)

And then? There is beauty… 

The entrance. Not seen to the right, an intro video narrated by none other than Sting. Click any Photo for full size.

With all the recent talk about the Art world loving “ugly” Art, including Painting1, along came The Met’s Thomas Cole’s Journey: Atlantic Crossings. It’s an homage to “beautiful” Painting- to American Landscape Painting, to the birth of the Hudson River School that Mr. Cole is often credited with being a co-founder of (the first Art movement to form in America), and, it’s a testament to some very great Painters who expressed their passionate love of nature and it’s beauty on canvas and paper. Tucked away in galleries in the back of the first floor of the renovated American Wing, it was fitting that it was installed as close to the (man-made) natural glory of Central Park as is possible in American Wing. After closing at The Met on May 13th, it’s now been reinstalled, and added to, at London’s National Gallery, where it’s called Thomas Cole: Eden to Empire.

A hard act to follow. This is how the show begins- with a text intro accompanied by TWO amazing works by no less than JMW Turner.

The beauty it contains is (at least) three fold. First, there is the beauty of Thomas Cole’s Painting. We get to watch the Artist develop over time and travels, from his native England (where he was born in 1801), to America after his family emigrates here in 1818, to return trips to England and on to Italy, until he finds his voice, a voice that resonates as powerfully today as it ever has. Proof of that can be seen in expected and unexpected places, ranging from his direct disciples to contemporary masters, like Ed Ruscha and Rod Penner. Since influence is a continuum, we also get to see work by other Artists who influenced Thomas Cole, and who he learned from. This second kind of beauty, in the form of beautiful works by these influences and contemporaries, who’s presence caught me completely by surprise in the show. In fact, as soon as I entered, I was immediately bowled over by not one but two masterpieces by no less than the man many consider to be THE supreme landscapist, JMW Turner. And? There would be more!

Talk about setting the bar high.

J.M.W. Turner, Leeds, 1816, Watercolor, scraping out, pen and ink on paper. “One of the earliest and most sophisticated depictions of an industrial city, ‘Leeds’ was painted when Cole was 15 years old and living 60 miles away in Chorley, another center of textile production. Turner…chronicles the pollution and chaos of the growing city,” paraphrasing the wall card.

J.M.W. Turner, Dudley, Worcestershire, 1832, Watercolor and body color on paper. “Dudley lies in ‘the Black Country,’ an area characterized by smoke and soot from hundreds of forges, furnaces and hearths. Topographical features present a sharp contrast of ancient and modern: on top of the hill, the ruins of Dudley Castle, echoed by the recently rebuilt neo-Gothic tower of Saint Thomas’s Church, allude to the town’s history, while industrial mills vent dark smoke into the air in the foreground. The scene offered Turner the opportunity for a meditation on change over time, and for a solemn commentary on the industrial sublime.” Per the wall card, paraphrased.

Staggered, but not felled, by these bodyblows, my head cleared long enough to think about how Turner brilliantly uses two different styles sixteen years apart to convey similar messages. Whereas his later works strike us now as almost “impressionistic,” here he’s showing us real scenes. Already a lot to take in, I was ready to go home. Ah, but fear not. The “star” of our show would not be eclipsed. Thomas Cole hit the ground running.

View of Round-Top in the Catskill Mountains, 1827, Oil on panel. Cole discovered the Catskills in 1825, and he was about 26 when he Painted this masterful mix of landscape, realism and the sublime, as it was called at the time, in an American setting. This breathtaking vista was  one of his favorite spots.

The third kind of beauty on view is the beauty of nature that all of the works on view- by Cole, Turner, John Trumbull, Claude Lorrain, John Constable, John Martin, and the others included depict. The works included focus on natural beauty, what man has done with and to that natural beauty, and the possible ramifications of that.

The Garden of Eden, 1828, Oil on Canvas. Thomas Cole, the “romantic” is on view here, though in the service of the “message,” or “warning,” of paradise about to be lost. A theme that will recur.

The Hudson River School spent decades in eclipse in the 20th century as abstraction took center stage, but they’ve never failed to influence Artists, and their “popularity” has seemed to be on the upturn over the past 20 years. Upstairs in the American Wing, The Met’s Hudson River School permanent galleries are one of the lesser known glories of The Museum, judging by the fact that I’ve yet to see them crowded. While Art history has moved on, giving us countless styles, schools and movements since, no where else can the glories of original America be seen (pre-landscape Photography). Though the names of many of the places they Painted are familiar we longer can largely not recognize them. Beyond that, the Hudson River School includes some of the great Artists in 19th Century Painting. While they have enjoyed a “cult” following lo these many years, it’s high time they gain the wider acceptance and appreciation their work deserves. There’s no better place to start that than with a closer look at Thomas Cole.

View on the Catskill- Early Autumn, 1836-37, Oil on canvas.

Thomas Cole, who was born in England and emigrated to the U.S. in 1818, was 28 when he met JMW Turner on a return visit to London after a decade here. He visited Turner’s Gallery2. There, he saw, and was deeply impressed by, Turner’s Snow Storm: Hannibal and His Army Crossing the Alps. The Met’s wall card tells us Thomas Cole was not taken with Turner’s later work.

JMW Turner, Snow Storm: Hannibal and His Army Crossing the Alps, 1812, Oil on canvas.

At London’s newly opened National Gallery, he discovered Claude Lorrain and John Constable’s Hadleigh Castle, which haunted him for the rest of his life. He and Constable became friends.

John Constable, Hadleigh Castle, The Mouth of the Thames-Morning after a Stormy Night, 1829, Oil on canvas

In 1831, he went to Italy, where he painted this-

Aqueduct near Rome, 1832, Oil on canvas. Intriguingly, both of these work show ruins, in this case, that left by a great empire.

In Aqueduct near Rome, 1832, we see the ruins of a once great civilization, seen by Cole during his Italian trip and Painted from sketches he made of it. Among the ruins, we see a shepherd and his flock, a human skull, reminders of the passing of time and life going on. Looking at it in hindsight, it’s hard not to see it as something of a precursor for his masterwork, the 5 Painting series, The Course of Empire, 1934-36, the inclusion of which, on loan from the New York Historical Society, is one of the highlights of the show. Originally intended to hang over and around a fireplace by the gent who commissioned them, they seem much better hung as they are here, in a semi circular row where the endless detail in each can be better considered and appreciated. Interestingly, the largest of the five, designed to go in the center directly over the fireplace surrounded by the other four in vertical rows of 2 on each side, may well be the least “important.” At least, that’s a Met curator who spoke about the show in the galleries said.

Course of Empire, 1834-36, The rise and fall of civilization as seen from the same place. Notice the same distinctive mountain peak appearing in each Painting.

From The Course of Empire – The Savage State, 1834

From The Course of Empire – The Arcadian or Pastoral State, 1934.

Detail. In the center foreground, the Artist has included a Self-Portrait as a young man, Drawing, also showing the place of Art in this “ideal” world.

From The Course of Empire – The Consumation of Empire, 1836.

From The Course of Empire – Destruction, 1836.

From The Course of Empire – Desolation, 1836.

After Thomas Cole died in 1848, he was remembered by a number of Artists, including Frederic Church and Asher Durand, but his influence is ongoing. The London reinstallation of this show, at the National Gallery, is accompanied by a show of the work of the American Artist, Ed Ruscha, one of the most influential Artists of our time, who personally installed his own renowned Course of Empire series in a dialogue with one of his great influences. Mr. Ruscha traveled to NYC to speak about Thomas Cole at The Met on April 8th, and that fascinating conversation may be seen and heard here. In it, he speaks about visiting the New York Historical Society (“and not MoMA”) during his visits to the City because he wanted to see Cole’s The Course of Empire, who own the series, repeatedly.

Ed Ruscha, Jet Baby, 2011, lithograph. *Photo by Hamilton Press.

Many of Mr. Ruscha’s recent Paintings and prints have featured a mountain peak, often in snow, a constant reminder of the beauty and wonder of nature that was so close to Thomas Cole’s heart, and possibly a reference to the peak that recurs in each work of Cole’s The Course of Empire series. At The Met, Mr. Ruscha spoke about his love of nature in terms reminiscent of Thomas Cole. It speaks volumes that Mr. Ruscha would go to such lengths to bring Thomas Cole to a wider audience. But, he’s not alone. The string of Artists who’s work would seem to bear at least some debt to Thomas Cole is a very long one. Then there’s the line of Artist’s who’s work contrasts with Thomas Cole’s as they show us what man has done to the landscape in the years since, as he saw this beginning to happen in View from Mount Holyoke, 1836, below.

View from Mount Holyoke, Northampton, Massachusetts, after a Thunderstorm- The Oxbow, 1836, Oil on canvas.

Landscape Painting was joined by Landscape Photography, from about the 1850’s culminating in the work of Ansel Adams and Edward Weston in the first half of the 20th century. They were followed by Stephen Shore3, Lewis Baltz, Robert Adams, Joe Deal and others who were given a landmark show in 1975-76 at the George Eastman House, Rochester, called New Topographics: Photographs of a Man-Altered Landscape. The show’s theme was that the American landscape was no longer what it once was in the days of Ansel Adams,  Weston and Cole, that industrialization, commercialization and development had changed the landscape, and so, this new generation of Artists were bent on depicting the American Landscape they saw all around them.

Sketch for View from Mount Holyoke, Northampton, Massachusetts, after a Thunderstorm (The Oxbow), 1936. Thomas Cole masterfully lays out his conception of the composition with a remarkable sparseness of brushstrokes, which only seems to lack the self portrait he included in the final masterpiece seen above. Instead, there is what appears to be a female figure to the lower right. Though in it’s permanent collection, I’ve never seen this remarkable 5 1/2 by 9 1 /2 inch Sketch on display in The Met before.

Painters, too, were hard at work doing the same thing- Painting the world they saw around them. Thomas Eakins painted the encroachment of the industrial world in The Champion Single Sculls (Max Schmitt in a Single Scull, 1871. In the 20th Century, the Regionalists, including Thomas Hart Benton and Grant Wood did their best to focus on the beauty of nature and the American Landscape, but even in their work, the modern world is encroaching. This was all presaged in Thomas Cole’s View from Mount Holyoke, Northampton, Massachusetts, after a Thunderstorm- The Oxbow, 1836, in which the Artist shows us undeveloped land, left, developed land to the right, as he, himself, looks back at the viewer from a crevice right in the lower center, a man caught between the past, the present and the future. In this work he gives us at least the first two installments of The Course of Empire, and, with his turned look at the viewer seems to be directly asking us “Whither to from here?”

“Nature has spread for us a rich and delightful banquet.
Shall we turn from it?
We are still in Eden;
the wall that shuts us out of the garden is our own ignorance and folly.”
(Quotes by Thomas Cole from the introductory video.)

Thomas Cole’s Sketch Box, with added Italianate landscape, perhaps used for the Sketch, above.

The “Ash Can” School painted the harsh reality of American urban life as it rapidly expanded. Meanwhile, Georgia O’Keefe and Charles Sheeler were two Artists who walked the line between the traditionalists and the modern world, with the former gradually disappearing in Sheeler’s work (as both a Photographer and a Painter) as time went on, while Ms. O’Keefe added abstraction to her images of the natural world, while also Painting the city. Edward Hopper lived in both worlds for most of his life, splitting time between Manhattan and Maine. Hopper has been followed by Richard Estes, who also splits his time between Manhattan and Maine, and like Hopper, paints works that show the beauty of nature, in one thread, and the extremes of human development in his Paintings and “Urban Landscape” print series. 

John Salt, Red Mailbox #2, 2015, Casein on linen, seen at Meisel Gallery, 2018.

Along with Mr. Estes, other Painters, including John Salt and Rod Penner, like Thomas Cole, were born elsewhere, yet give us landscape Paintings of contemporary American scenes, as do many Photographers, including Catherine Opie, below, while others, including Emmet Gowin, Edward Burtynsky and David Maisel, have taken to the air to create works based on some of the most extreme uses man has made of the earth…so far.

Catherine Opie, Untitled #7 (1999), 1999, C-print, seen at Lehmann Maupin, 2018.

David Maisel, Termiinal Mirage 2, 2003, seen at Yancey Richardson Gallery. An aerial shot taken at the Great Salt Lake. The Artist calls the appeal of works like this “the apocalyptic sublime.”

Whether they have been influenced by Thomas Cole, or their work stands in contrast to his, somewhere in all of it lies a message (intentional or not) that is not all that dissimilar to that of Thomas Cole in one of the stages of The Course of Empire. The overriding question becomes- Which stage are we in?

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Message in a Bottle,” by Sting and the Police.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded and ad-free for over 6 years, during which over 250 full length pieces have been published. If you’ve found it worthwhile, you can donate to keep it going & ad-free below. Thank you!

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here.
Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them.
For “short takes” and additional pictures, follow @nighthawk_nyc on Instagram.

Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

 

  1. Like this piece in the New York Times ↩
  2. George Jones Interior of Turner’s Gallery: The Artist Showing His Works, 1852, Oil on millboard, is here in this show on loan from the Ashmolean. My Photo of it appears in my Post on Ellen Harvey’s recent shows since her wonderful work, Arcadia is somewhat based on it. It may be seen here. ↩
  3. The only one to show color work. ↩

William Eggleston’s Secret Lab

Set the Way Back Machine to December, 2016, when William Eggleston: The Democratic Forest was at David Zwirner Gallery, 537 West 20th Street, where all the trouble began. I had one of those “Dubliners” moments, where James Joyce’s Stephen Dedalus has an epiphany and his life (and the story) is forever altered.

My life hasn’t been the same since.

A signed copy of the catalog for the 2016 show, William Eggleston: The Democratic Forest: Selected Works, with William Eggleston’s characteristically vibrant signature, is all that remains to remind me…

As I walked through that show, revisiting the classic images on view (a total of 40, many in a larger size that I still haven’t gotten used to), I left with an overpowering realization that I needed to do a deep dive into the world of contemporary Photography, to catch up on it, Post-Robert Frank’s “The Americans,” 1958 (though Mr. Frank is still with us, of course, and still releasing great books with Steidl. Long may he wave!), and see what’s been going on. I also wanted to do this to gain some perspective on William Eggleston’s place in Photography and his accomplishment to date.

Henri Cartier-Bresson has his cryptic “decisive moment.” Robert Capa has “If your pictures aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.” Eggleston has his own quote that will keep us guessing indefinitely.

Yes, I knew that famous quote, and William Eggleston’s work, but not in depth. Steidl’s 10 volume set of “William Eggleston: The Democratic Forest,” containing 1,010 images from this body of work, released concurrently with the show, was a sizable step towards addressing that. Never before (or since) had such a large body of color work been published in one set. Add to it the unrelenting quality of the images, and Mr. Eggleston’s extraordinary eye, and you’re face to face with a landmark body of work. From there, I went back to his prior Steidl sets, William Eggleston: Chromes, 2011, and Los Alamos Revisited, 2012, both of which contain his earliest color work (the former his early slides, the latter his early prints). At this point, there was no denying William Eggleston’s exceptional importance in the world of Photography, being one of the few to bring a new way of seeing to the world.

The question became- “Who else is important?” I’ve explored some of the others I’ve discovered in these pages since Mr. Eggleston’s David Zwirner show, this past year and a half, including 4 article looks at The Photography Shows, AIPAD, in 2017 and 2018. How times have changed here at NHNYC. William Eggleston: The Democratic Forest didn’t even get a full article to itself! The spark that started a bonfire. The journey continues.

On the road, again. William Eggleston’s Los Alamos was shot on the road, over trips he took across the country between 1966 and 1974. When he, and his friend the curator Walter Hopps hit Los Alamos, NM, scene of the Atomic Bomb development in WW II, the Photographer commented about wanting “his own secret lab.” Click and photo for full size.

So, after literally hundreds of Photo shows seen, countless PhotoBooks perused and too many bought in the interim, here I was, once again, on the precipice of another William Eggleston show. This one at no less than The Metropolitan Museum of Art, featuring the recently promised gift of one of the seven Portfolios of “Los Alamos,” never previously seen as a set in NYC, containing the Artist’s earliest color print work. A sense of trepidation filled me- What new havoc would Mr. Eggleston wreck upon me now?

Untitled, 1967-74, Gelatin silver print. Perhaps a touch of the lingering influence of Henri Cartier-Bresson here?

I didn’t have to wait long to find out. As I approached the show’s entrance, I realized The Met had decided to give us more. This monumental show of one of the landmark bodies of color Photography begins with two walls of William Eggleston’s comparatively little known black & white work(!), flanking each side of the show’s entrance  containing a total of 11 black & white Photographs created between 1959 and 1974 mounted on mustard walls! 11 Photographs might not sound like many but their subjects and styles are so varied they present a fascinating capsule look at where his work was before he turned to color film.

I’ve seen some of his black & white work in the two Steidl books centered on it1, to feel they are an overlooked realm of his work that deserves a closer look. But, such is the all-encompassing power of his color work that it has garnered only occasional attention.

William Eggleston fell asleep reading Cartier-Bresson’s Les Europeans, Paris, 1964, shown here in this Photo by his wife, Rosa, as seen in William Eggleston: From Black and White to Color, P. 176. (Not in the exhibition. )

Early on, William Eggleston was captivated by the work of Henri Cartier-Bresson. He so worried about copying him that during a trip to Paris in 1964, where the French master lived and worked for many years, he didn’t take a single Photograph. Returning home, he realized that “foreign land” surrounded him right there in Memphis (including the new shopping malls and strip malls that were sprouting like weeds) and he set about Photographing it. That is what we see in these 11 black & white shots- a great Artist stepping beyond influences and beginning to trust his own vision. In the shots with human subjects, the influence of Cartier-Bresson’s infamous “Decisive Moment” would seem to be there, but he’s putting his own stamp on it. By the early 1970’s he was on his way.

Untitled, 1967-74, Gelatin silver print. Light & dark…day & night…this is one of the most “different” images by William Eggleston I’ve seen.

Moving beyond the images with people, some others show a fascination with a wider view, courtesy of a wide-angle lens, in landscapes where it’s hard to discern details of the scene (above). In these people-less works, compositionally, they’re still fascinating and still “democratic,” the term he used recurringly connoting nothing being more important than anything else in the frame. But, overall, they lack the laser focus that permeates Los Alamos, and much of what has followed.

Untitled, 1967-74, Gelatin silver print. This begins to call to mind any number of William Eggleston’s later color Photos, like Los Alamos.

The revelation from these earlier black & white Photos, for me, is they emphasize the Artist’s gift for composition (including a penchant for Photographing from unusual angles). But this really shouldn’t be a surprise. Like Cartier-Bresson and that other great master of early color Photography, Saul Leiter, William Eggleston is also a Painter. Turning to color film, however, he would also have to find his way. “I’d assumed that I could do in color what I could do in black and white, and I got a swift harsh lesson. All bones bared. But it had to be,” he’s quoted on a wall. The stage having been set, the main event beckoned.

Only SEVEN sets of this large 5 volume set were released in 2002, along with 3 Artist’s Proofs. This extraordinarily rare complete set, in, apparently, pristine condition, is a promised gift to The Met, who is showing the 75 Dye-transfer prints it contains, (15 per box) complete, for the first time ever, in NYC, along with 13 others from the extended series.

Walter Hopps’ Introduction to Los Alamos as it appears in the Steidl set. Photo courtesy of Steidl.

The first selection was shown at Museum Ludwig, Cologne in 20022, when this Portfolio was released, along with a catalog for the show, also titled, Los Alamos. The Portfolio consists of 75 dye transfer prints, in 5 boxes of 15, perhaps the most revered type of color print, as they possess a larger color gamut and tonal scale than any other process. Since Kodak stopped making the materials  for this process, they are rarely created today3 These images were known to me to now through Steidl’s three volume set,  Los Alamos Revisited, where they are supplemented by other images from the series. In the “Editorial Note” at the end of Volume 3, Gerhard Steidl says “Los Alamos is presented in its entirety in this three volume set,” though there are far fewer than the 2,200 images Mr. Hopps says was created, above. As good as Steidl’s books are, no book can match seeing a dye transfer print in person.

The first wall of William Eggleston: Los Alamos.

Along the show’s first wall, the second print is the image Mr. Hopps refers to as being William Eggleston’s first color Photograph.

Untitled, 1965, Dye-Transfer print, as are all the Photos that follow.

This man in this incredibly odd image, that would seem to be as far away from “Art” as one could imagine, is not pushing a shopping cart into a row of them. He’s pushing color Photography into the world of Fine Art Photography. Interestingly, 53 years later, for such a famous Photograph, seeing it in person in a dye-transfer print, it’s not a shot that screams with color, as so many others in Los Alamos do. It’s subtle relative to many of the others in the Portfolio. The colors emerge from shadows. Glimpses of light in a grey world. What strikes me are the subtle shades of silver in the carts- some of which are in the light, some are in shade. Then there’s the shadows. They echo the two figures we see, but the woman in the sunglasses isn’t one of them. They are the Photographer and the shopping cart man. The shadows are, almost, black and white images, something I’ve yet to see someone point out. As part of the “grey world” they wonderfully echo the black & white world he’s left behind in the “new world” of color Photography William Eggleston had embarked upon.

It almost looks like a black & white Photo. Detail of the left center showing William Eggleston, left shadow, taking the photo of the cart worker, on the right.

He would never go back.

Memphis, 1971-74

Memphis, 1965-68

William Eggleston began his career working in isolation “that was almost inconceivable.” “Photography wasn’t even born yet,” he said later. He even had no knowledge of the controversy the appearance of The Americans caused4. Going back before The Americans, it must be said that it seems to me that it’s hard to speak about ANY American Photographer of the 20th (or 21st) centuries without mentioning Walker Evans, though he did very little color work, and late in his career. It’s hard NOT to see the influence of Walker Evans everywhere in work created after his FSA works of the 1930’s. That includes the work of William Eggleston. I say that not to diminish his accomplishment by any means. I say it because almost every Artist in the western world has been influenced by someone who came before him or her. William Eggleston’s work has a rawness to it, akin to extremely proficient snapshots that I also see in some of Walker Evans’ work. William Eggleston knew the work of Walker Evans before he embarked on the work shown at The Met, but he proves himself over and over to be among the few who’s own vision is strong enough to overcome “echoes” of any influence. This was first seen in his controversial at the time, now landmark 1976 MoMA show Photographs by William Eggleston5,” and in much of what he’s shown us since.

Greenwood, 1971-74

Memphis, 1971-74

Santa Monica, 1974

Speaking of the continuum of influence, it’s hard to walk around this show and not see each image as a jumping off point for the work of so many others. Yet, the big mystery in them- “What do they mean?”- is only answered until you look at them again.

Mississippi, upper right and upper left, Memphis, lower left and lower right, all 1971-74

Part of their “charm” is how the cars, furniture, objects, and places look dated to us now. That’s inevitable with Photography as time goes on. Then, of course, there’s the power of his colors to seduce the eye like few others can.

Louisiana, 1971-74

While I’m eternally pondering the “What is he saying?” question myself, I always come back to studying, and admiring, his compositions. Their balance, or their off kilterness…in both cases, manage to retain interest.

Mississippi, 1971-74. Balance. Well? Almost. But, that’s life, right?

Greenwood, upper left,  Memphis, upper right, both 1971-74, Untitled (Bottle on Cement Porch), lower left, and Untitled (White Phone and Vacuum Cleaner, lower right, both 1965-74.

Images like the group of four above spawn countless “I could do that” comments. While I don’t deny the possibility someone could, what’s overlooked is the time and the context. These were taken over 45 years ago, when no one was “doing that.” When seen in the context of the history of Photography, they were, therefore, unprecedented, particularly in color. And yes, today? Countless people, and Photographers, are trying to “do that,” though we’re still waiting for the “next William Eggleston” to reveal him or herself, and so am I.

Louisiana, 1971-74

What to make of this image, with its carefully considered composition, shot from a low angle? I don’t know and my efforts at gaining insights reached a dead end. Ostensibly it’s here because it’s part of the complete portfolio, and as such, it’s now in The Met’s Permanent Collection. Though taken over a generation ago, it remains disturbing and offensive, and puzzling. In a 2004 interview in The Guardian, Sean O’Hagan quoted William Eggleston saying, “A picture is what it is, and I’ve never noticed that it helps to talk about them, or answer specific questions about them, much less volunteer information in words. It wouldn’t make any sense to explain them. Kind of diminishes them. People always want to know when something was taken, where it was taken, and, God knows, why it was taken. I mean, they’re right there, whatever they are.” As a result, I can’t help but think it calls into question the whole sense of “detachment” that exists in all of these works. At this point, it seems these questions are going to remain indefinitely.

The last wall at The Met includes the image taken during the plane trip home, far right, as if to put a “bow” on the project.

My current feeling about Louisiana, 1971-74, and the series as a whole, is that these are glimpses of America, moments that passed in front of the Photographer and his camera, that may, or may not, be gone forever, but will remain frozen in time. Taken as a whole, it’s as compelling a portrait of America as Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, (perhaps an inspiration for Mr. Eggleston), is, in my view, albeit in a completely different way. While Jack Kerouac inspired a generation of “Beatniks,” and countless others, Mr. Eggleston has inspired two generations of Photographers, and counting. In Los Alamos we see the mundane, the beautiful, the ugly, and the never noticed before, all seen by a man possessing one of the most singular eyes in Contemporary Art. If not in Art. Period.

Yes, William Eggleston went to “war with the obvious.” And he imposed his will upon it.

————————————

BookMarks- (A new feature regarding Art and/or PhotoBooks related to this Post). If you want to begin to explore the work of William Eggleston, William Eggleston’s Guide, published by MoMA is the place to start. After that, you really can’t go wrong with any Eggleston book published by Steidl or Twin Palms Publishers, though I would recommend considering William Eggleston: Los Alamos Revisited, next.

If you find yourself taken by Los Alamos, I highly recommend Steidl’s 3 volume box set.” Produced by William Eggleston, The Eggleston Artistic Trust and Gerhard Steidl, given the involvement of the Artist, it’s highly unlikely to be surpassed as a definitive document of this landmark series. The production is first rate in all respects. At Steidl’s booth at The Photography Show/AIPAD this year there was some question around how much longer copies of Los Alamos Revisited would be available. Released in 2012, I wouldn’t wait long to get one. Steidl’s previous William Eggleston Box set, Chromes, released the year before, is now out of print. The asking price for the cheapest USED copy known to me at the moment is $1,500.00.

*- Soundtrack for this Post are “Inventions & Sinfonias” by Johann Sebastian Bach as performed by Glenn Gould. Mr. Eggleston is, also, a Pianist, who recently released his first CD, William Eggleston: Musik (Vinyl). He lists J.S. Bach as his favorite composer. Something we agree on.

Update 5/22/18- Rewatching the fascinating documentary, The Colorful Mr. Eggleston, I saw what sure looks like one of the other sets of “Los Alamos.” At the 7 minute mark, Mr. Eggleston is speaking at what looks to be the Eggleston Artistic Trust, and behind him to the right, there are five similarly color boxes sitting on a shelf next to a “Coke” sign.

William Eggleston speaking in The Colorful Mr. Eggleston, with what looks to be a set of Los Alamos on the shelf behind him. Walker Evans, also, Photographed, and collected, Coke signs.

My thanks to Monika Condrea and Steidl for their assistance.

My previous Posts on Photography are here. 
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  1. William Eggleston: From Black and White to Color, and William Eggleston: Black and White the latter to be expanded in a reissue later this year. At that time it will serve as the best resource on his black & white work. ↩
  2. The show then traveled through Europe before making 3 stops in the USA until it finally closed in January, 2005. ↩
  3. More recently, the Eggleston Artistic Trust has begun producing larger (often 45 x 65 inch) pigment prints, which were shown in that 2016 David Zwirner show. Personally, I greatly prefer the original sizes in almost every case. ↩
  4. William Eggleston: From Black and White To Color, P.183 ↩
  5. Immortalized by the show’s catalog, William Eggleston’s Guide,” 1976, one of the first essential books of color Photography, still in print. ↩

Danh Vo: Awakening From The Nightmare

“‘History,’ Stephen said, ‘is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.’”
James Joyce, Ulysses, Episode 2.

Museum Mile, late winter, 2018. Guggenheim Museum ahead on the right. Click any Photo for full size.

A typewriter sits almost alone on the floor of a gallery on the Guggenheim Museum’s 5th floor.

I stood opposite it for a few minutes over multiple visits, considering the installation of this gallery and watching other visitors pass by.

Only a few stopped to read the wall card, above it to the right. For those that didn’t, I couldn’t help wonder what they were thinking. “A typewriter? What? Why? Is this “Art?”

The wall card.

A few days later, about 50 blocks south, I saw another typewriter sitting alone on display.

Tennessee Williams’ Olivetti Typewriter seen at Tennessee Williams: No Refuge but Writing, at The Morgan Library, April, 2018.

This one was one of the great Tennessee Willams’ two most cherished possessions, along with a copy of Hart Crane’s Poems. A typewriter can be a weapon of murder, of Art, and now in both cases, an “Art object,” with completely opposite impacts. At the Guggenheim, Danh Vo’s placing of the Unabomber’s typewriter, (with it’s keyboard turned towards the side, and so, not an invitation to the viewer to use it, but to look at it as an object), is rife with irony, and very subtle power. Seeing both machines reminded me that a typewriter is a typewriter is a typewriter- it’s the person using it that makes it a tool for timeless beauty, or for catastrophic destruction. 

Therein lies the crux of Danh Vo: Take My Breath Away, which fills Frank Lloyd Wright’s iconic rotunda. Along with Art that he (or his calligrapher father) makes by hand, to a large extent Danh Vo’s Art relies on carefully selected actual historical items who’s significance fit the three primary threads that run through his Art- the history of Vietnam (dating back to it’s colonial past), American history, and his personal & family history. The Artist chooses objects for their ongoing power to speak to us through the history they witnessed or participated in. They are now mute witnesses, but like possessions in one’s home, their sum a portrait of where the Artist “lives,” so to speak. Combined, and seen over a large show, these three histories (Vietnamese, American and personal) interweave and dialogue with each other. The national and global becomes personal. For viewers, they are pieces of histories that speak to us still, like events that happened before our birth are “pieces” that have real and lasting effects on our lives many years after.

Then, I moved to the right, and saw what was installed along the intervening gallery wall in the next gallery.

On the wall behind the Unablomber’s Typewriter, left, is part of We The People, 2011-16, Copper, right. Installed (ironically, or coincidentally) so they mirror each other.

It’s a work called We The People,. Well, it’s part of the work called We The People, which totals over 300 pieces in all, each one part of a full size replica of the Statue of Liberty!

Every American “knows” the Statue of Liberty. How many would recognize one of her hands if seen by itself? The front of her left hand, minus her thumb (which is lying on the floor just behind me).

Vo’s parents idolized the U.S. as a land of political freedom and economic power, values their son couldn’t help but pick up, though later he suffered from disenchantment. Danh Vo was inspired after finally visiting the Statue in person to have it painstakingly replicated in copper. Press two pennies together between your fingers. That’s how thick the skin is on both sculptures! He and his team used the same techniques used to craft the original (though in China, instead of France), each of it’s 300 body fragment parts serving as both a reminder of the whole and an autonomous sculpture on it’s own. “In taking the Statue of Liberty as subject, Vo appropriated the definitive symbol of not just America but of the abstract notion of freedom itself. The metaphoric fracturing of the American body politic in the literal body of Liberty not only suggests the fragility of the philosophy she enshrines, it also enacts a profound violence on the fabric of the national consciousness1.”  In the catalog for the show, curator Katherine Brinson speaks of the damage to the American psyche that would be done seeing the actual Statue in pieces, referring to nerve the 1986 campaign to restore the Statue struck in the American public. Showing a replica of it is brings none of that trauma and instead allows the viewer to see it anew.

“I thought it would be interesting to make something that people felt so familiar with, in all the different ways that people project on the sculpture, and try to destabilize your own thinking of it,” the Artist said in 2013.

From the start, Danh Vo never intended to assemble the pieces he made, but rather to distribute them around the world, so it’s effect would be international, allowing no single person or entity to own more than 8 pieces of it. While about 50 parts of We The People, were previously seen locally in a 2014 Public Art Fund show in Brooklyn Bridge Park and City Hall Park, having seen only 6 pieces of it I still found it utterly remarkable- A remarkable concept. Remarkable that someone could do it and do it so well. Remarkable that he or she would choose to recreate all of it and not assemble it. Remarkable that this Artist, Danh Vo, is not now and has never been, an American2.

Two pieces from We The People,, another view of the works seen adjacent to the gallery with Kaczyinski’s Typewriter.

Danh Vo (pronounced yon voh) was born in Ba Rja, Vietnam, 4 months after the Vietnam War ended. Nonetheless, as it does with countless others in innumerable ways, the War casts it’s long shadow over Danh Vo’s life and Art, directly and indirectly. As seen in Danh Vo: Take My Breath Away, the War, which ended 43 years ago this April 30th, occupies the center, a defining event in his life though he wasn’t even alive during it. After he was born, his family was among 20,000 resettled to Phu Quoc in far southwest Vietnam, and then to Ho Chi Minh City, as part of a government “reeducation” program. In 1979, when Vo was 4, his family fled Vietnam in a homemade boat with 117 others, and were rescued at sea by a Danish freighter.

After escaping Vietnam in a homemade boat and being rescued at sea, Vo, age 4, left, and his family were taken to a refugee camp in Singapore. Having left everything behind, they were gifted the items seen in this Photo by Christian missionaries, which the Artist has turned into a “Christmas card” long after the fact. “Untitled,” 2007, Photogravure.

After a winter in a camp in Singapore, the family was eventually resettled in Denmark, where Vo was raised. Today he lives in Berlin and Mexico City. “I don’t really believe in my own story, not as a singular thing, anyway. It weaves in and out of other people’s private stories of local history and geopolitical history. I see myself, like any other person, as a container that has inherited these infinite traces of history without inheriting any direction. I try to compensate for this, I’m trying to make sense of it and give it a direction for myself,” the Artist has said3.

Two pieces of “We The People-

In 2012, he won the Hugo Boss Prize, which resulted in his first show at the Guggenheim Museum, the remarkable I.M.U.U.R.2, (I am you and you are too), which consisted of about 4,000 Artworks and items that belonged to the late Painter, Martin Wong. It says quite a bit that Danh Vo would take his first opportunity of a show in one of NYC’s “Big Five” Museums and devote it to the work of another Artist. Martin Wong is someone who’s work Danh Vo has championed, as he owns at least one his Paintings. In that sense, it’s part of the thread of his personal history that his work continues to explore. It was also  a unique opportunity to walk around in the mind and life of the late Artist while it created an effect not unlike one of Martin Wong’s Paintings.  It also served to expose visitors (including myself) to the work of a terrific Painter, who died in 1999 at age 53. (For further information, I recommend “Martin Wong: Human Instamatic,” which was produced for a 2016 Bronx Museum of Arts show.)

Another piece of We The People, one of the last pieces fabricated. The hand that holds the tablet.

The exhibition catalog for Danh Vo: Take My Breath Away, surprisingly lacks any direct information about it. Instead, it provides excellent background and analysis of the individual Art works, with the bulk of the book consisting of an extensive, complete catalog of Danh Vo’s exhibition history prior to Take My Breath Away, with numerous, fascinating installation views of each show that allows the viewer to this show to consider most of the Art on view here in different combinations and in different installations. This served to heighten my respect for his gift of installation. At almost 350 pages, it’s the first full-length monograph on Danh Vo, and now stands as the go-to reference on the Artist and his work over the first part of his career.

Untitled, 2018. Adds “Fabulous Muscles” to the show’s title, Take My Breath Away, yes, the theme from the 1980’s film “Top Gun,” was etched on the glass window in the Museum’s rotunda floor by the Artist’s father, Phung Vo. It was almost impossible to get a full shot of it. This was as close as I got over innumerable attempts.

As for Take My Breath Away, it’s rare (and wonderful, I find) to walk into a large show and almost all of it feels “different,” unlike almost anything I’ve seen before. A classic case of this was Matthew Barney’s The Cremaster Cycle, in 2003, also, at the Guggenheim, where almost every single object felt like it had been created by beings from another world. Danh Vo uses, mostly, recognizable objects, but he often deconstructs them or combines them in new and totally unexpected ways and then displays them brilliantly in ways that are Zen-like, daringly unexpected, and fresh.

In another gallery, a different “statue” is seen. “Oma Totem,” 2009, consists of items that belonged to the Artist’s grandmother. After deciding to emigrate to Germany in 1980, upon her arrival, she was gifted a washing machine, a television and a refrigerator, by an immigrant relief program, along with a crucifix, gifted by the Catholic Church. Vo has turned them into his work, “Oma Totem.” At the Guggenheim, it/they also sit virtually alone in a gallery, turned sideways. They’re a monument to being a refugee, of leaving one culture behind, while another now stands before you. As the wall card says, “…the sculpture reduces its subject’s harrowing experience of war and exile to the set of archetypes- refugee, convert, and consumer- that were assigned to Vo’s grandmother by her new society.”

Oma Totem, 2009, Philips television set, Gorenje washing machine, Bomann refrigerator, wooden crucifix, and personal casino entrance card, with “Uro,” 2009, Keys on a chain, behind on the wall.

Partially hidden on the wall behind them, is Uro, 2009, which consists of keys left over from a past relationship. The chain that connects them is all that remains of the connection they once shared. 

“If you were to climb the Himalayas tomorrow,” 2006, Rolex watch, Dupont lighter, American military class ring. Three items his father, Phung Vo, cherished as signs of his “success” in his new country. The Artist hd to negotiate with him to get him to give these to him for this work. Displayed in a lit vitrine behind glass, like they would be in a fine jewelry store, the work’s title was taken from a Rolex ad campagin.

 

Beyond the image of America his parents had while he was growing up, it’s interesting how much American history is in his work. As with the typewriter seen earlier, not all of it pertains to Vietnam.

“She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene,” 2009, Brass bugle, felt cap with velvet, bayonet sheath, field radio with wood and leather case, sashes, wooden drumsticks, fife, leather sword belt with gold and silver details, and 13-star American flag. The Artist purchased this at auction, exactly as it appears now, adding only the title. It was created to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. It would seem to also stand for America in it’s ascendency to the country Vo’s parents idolized.

Taking his place in the now long line of Artists working with found objects, (primarily, though Danh Vo also makes Art by hand), with Marcel Duchamp appearing to be particularly inspiring for him, he brings new dimensions to this now 100 year old (at least) genre through the use of historic and personal items, his choice to disassemble them or leave them, and in the breathtaking way, in my opinion, that he installs them. .

A chandelier from the Grand Ballroom of the Hotel Majestic, Paris, where the Paris Peace Accords were signed, ending the Vietnam War.

Photo from the Exhibition Catalog, P.XXXIII

Even when these items are literally in pieces their parts are shown in surprising ways.

Untitled, 2009, Carry-on bag, fruitwood St. Joseph (Germany, late 16th century). Danh Vo acquired a wooden sculpture that was too big to transport by plane. So? He cut it into sections and put each into a bag so he could carry them on. At the Guggenheim, they were distributed, in their bags, with at least one also on a handcart.

At other times, the pieces are recombined in extraordinary new ways, as in these sculptures.

(Unpronounceable title uttered by the demon in The Exorcist), Poplar Virgin of the Annunciation, 2nd century, with Greek marble sarcophagus, ca 1350, left. Throughout the show, Vo displays sculpture that has either been broken up into parts (by the Artist or found that way), and displayed them either alone or with parts of a totally different sculpture, as seen here on the left, the lower half of which shows a lion devouring an antelope, “juxtaposing the sacred and the profane4,” though it’s also visually striking and unprecedented to my eyes, the effect only enhanced by it’s installation.

Untitled, 2018, Marble Eros (Western Europe, 2nd century CE) and sandstone eagle (Germany late 19th century). Notice the wooden shims left unpainted underneath it. Museum staff told me that the Artist stopped them from Painting them, something they would always do.

At the Guggenheim, the staff regaled me with stories of how the Artist laid out this show with almost Zen-like techniques. He left shims unpainted, chandeliers uncrated, and left other pieces where the handlers left them. I was told it was “unprecedented.”

16:32, 26.05  Late 19th-century chandelier. “Leave it just like that,” the Artist must have said to the Art handlers. Because they did. Open shipping crate on unpainted blocks and all.

I found the installation completely captivating, a model of taste and restraint, a breath of fresh air. Looking through the catalog (where those responsible for the display of the work in prior shows are not credited), I see a similar brilliance in the design of each show. Whatever one thinks of Danh Vo’s Art, he has a mastery of display that borders on showmanship.

Lady Gaga, live at Radio City Music Hall, January 20, 2010, her first major NYC Concert, in a show designed by the brilliant stage designer, Es Devlin. The stage was set inside a “frame” that goes all the way around it, with a screen in front of it that was never removed. Many of the designs for songs reminded me of Art works. It became obvious to me that either Ms. Devlin, Lady G, or both, were channeling Art history. This one, with the singer’s hair fastened to rings threaded through the pole the dancers hold on each side of her, and then moved around the stage, reminded me of Joseph Cornell.

I said “showmanship,” meant with respect, because the only other instance I can think of where I saw such amazing, beautiful display was at Lady Gaga’s first “big” NYC concert at Radio City Music Hall in January, 2010, in a show designed by the brilliant stage designer, Es Devlin5. At the time, I was completely floored by what I saw, though I immediately knew that whoever was responsible for it had gone to school on Art history. There were elements of Dali, Magritte, and especially Joseph Cornell throughout. Danh Vo, is adding display to the accomplishments of Duchamp, and Rauschenberg, making it an inherent and critical part of his Art.

Lot 20, Two Kennedy Administration Cabinet Room Chairs, 2013, right, and 08:43, 26.05, 2009, Late-19th century chandelier, left, behind Painted screen. At the Guggenheim, Danh Vo turned the museum’s “bays” into stage sets of a sort, some, like this one, behind transparent screens. Vo acquired 2 chairs from John F. Kennedy’s Administration that he proceeded to dismantle. The parts, and the fabric, are shown on their own elsewhere in the show. Here the frame of one chair is juxtaposed with parts of a chandelier, from the room the Vietnam War Paris Peace Accords were signed in a beautiful, haunting display. Like a memory, it’s both there and not there. In front of both is a thin curtain on which a beast, possibly a lion, is shown with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. A reference to Kennedy being short down in 1963?

Frank Lloyd Wright designed the Guggenheim Museum to be seen from the top, down. He intended for viewers to take the elevator to the top and walk down the gently sloping ramp, something I always do. Yet, I have never seen a show laid out this way. Instead, each one insists visitors walk up the 6 ramps. Well, it is a small elevator. So, this gallery, above and below, was among the first I saw in this show, and created a powerful effect.

Detail showing part of the JFK Administration chair and the transparent screen in front of it.

Danh Vo is an Artist who’s also something of a cultural anthropologist, someone who’s attuned to the deeper significance of historic objects as part of history and histories. Like Ai Weiwei, he’s not bashful about deconstructing them to mine even deeper significance. It helps that he’s also blessed with a terrific sense of reconfiguring these objects and pieces of objects in stunning and fascinating installations that he varies greatly from show to show, creating unique experiences each time. Seen in pieces, they are often completely new experiences which cause the viewer to see them in new ways. From looking at the catalog’s compilation of these past shows, Danh Vo: Take My Breath Away is both a high watermark in the young Artist’s career and a “beacon” of a calling card that he is an Artist to watch. The Guggenheim took a chance with this show, and then took another chance in giving Danh Vo so much leeway in it’s installation. They, and he, have succeeded in creating a show that is rich in layers of meaning and relevance for the moment. The Guggenheim’s commitment to Danh Vo’s Art, going back to I.M.U.U.R.2, is something I believe NYC’s Big Museums should be doing, and doing more of.

At a time when the Vietnam War seems prime to slip from the consciousness of America and the world as it’s survivors age, pass on, and the world moves on, Danh Vo serves to show that the legacy of Vietnam is multi-generational in it’s effect and impact on the world. Something that is not news to anyone who was involved in it.

It also shows us that even Art can come from something so horrific. Art that has much to tell us now, lest we find our selves in another “nightmare of history” one day.

An unexpected Postscript-

It turns out that Danh Vo and I have someone in common. Or, we had.

Danh Vo speaks about his experiences with Tim Rollins at the Tim Rollins Memorial Celebration, SVA Theater, NYC, April 30, 2018, which also happened to be the 43rd Anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War, on April 30, 1975.

On April 30th, I went to the Memorial Celebration at the SVA Theater on West 23rd Street for my late friend, the Artist and educator Tim Rollins. Much to my surprise, Danh Vo was there, and was one of a number of well-known Artists, and friends, who spoke about Tim Rollins during the service! He also generously donated the flowers. Sitting way in the back, in the jam packed auditorium, I was taken by a group of them to the left of the stage.

One group of flowers donated by Danh Vo at the Tim Rollins Memorial Celebration, April 30th, 2018, at the SVA Theater.

The way they were half in the light, and half in shadow perfectly summed up the experience of the evening for me. Was Danh Vo responsible for the lighting? I tend to doubt it because the lights were for what was going on onstage. Such is my respect for his installations, he had me wondering.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “I Want To Come Home For Christmas,” by Marvin Gaye and Forest Hairston in 1972.

My thanks to Kristina Parker and May of the Guggenheim Museum.

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  1. Exhibition Catalog, P. XLII ↩
  2. As far as I know. He has lived here, though he does not now. ↩
  3. Exhibition Catalog, P. XXIII ↩
  4. Ibid P.39 ↩
  5. Seen in concert 6 months later, at MSG, all of the avant garde stage design had been replaced by a more traditional, over the top, arena extravaganza documented in an HBO Special. Unfortunately, as far as I know, the Es Devlin production, one of the most amazing concert productions I have ever seen, has not appeared on video. ↩