Paint It Black

Dark Romanticism - From Goya to Max Ernst

The Städel Museum, Frankfurt Main:  until 20 January 2013
Musée d’Orsay, Paris:  04 March until 09 June 2013

The exhibition 'Dark Romanticism' is a treasure trove of ghoulish art which is sure to leave even the most well-heeled gallery goer slightly unhinged.

If you are familiar with Gothic literature, such as Mary Shelley's ‘Frankenstein’ or the tales of Edgar Allen Poe, then you will be in a good position to appreciate the major themes of the exhibition: the supernatural, death and horror.

As scientific and social progress faltered with the descent of the French Revolution into unadulterated violence, artists began exploring irrational elements of human nature. Therefore the major part of the exhibition is rooted in 19th century European art.

It begins with Johann Heinrich Fuseli’s painting ‘The Nightmare’ (1802). A woman is hounded by a demon and a vacant-eyed horse in her sleep. This evolves into Franz Stuck’s ‘The Sin’ (1893). A dark-haired nude stares from the picture, as an evil green viper hisses at us from her shoulder.

Spanish artist Goya features strongly. Despite sketches of dismemberment and rape, there remains a dreamlike quality in all his work which renders it immediately accessible and intriguing. Another highlight is the set of little black pen-and-ink wash pieces by none other than French writer Victor Hugo. His impressionistic doodles are a delight to behold and it is amazing that he considered his artwork to be a mere hobby.

Clips from early black and white horror films embellish the overall gothic mood. Nosferatu, Frankenstein and Dracula are all there along with some more esoteric footage. Not to be missed.

Arguably the curators have tried too hard to extrapolate dark romanticism into the later 20th century. Instead of showing Dali and Hitchcock, a room exploring the massive influence of gothic literature would have added an important dimension to the otherwise comprehensive show.

'The Nightmare' (1802)

Little Mole's Legacy

In November last year, Zdeněk Miler the creator of Czech cartoon character Krtek (Little Mole) passed away at the age of 90. His little red-nosed creation with the easy smile charmed television audiences across much of Europe and Asia. Now Miler's 21-year-old granddaughter plans to market the mole for tablets and smartphones. Why bother?

Little Mole is hardly in the same vein as the crazily popular Angry Birds game. In fact in over 40 episodes Little Mole never loses his temper or has a bad word for anyone. (True, he doesn't speak, but instead makes do with shrill bursts of laughter and friendly mutterings.)

Little Mole on an Ipad may introduce him to a new generation, but won't some of his original innocence be lost? After all, he never caught on in the USA where the show's unashamed celebration of nature was totally lost on an audience more used to Disney's cheap gags and slapstick set ups like in Donald Duck and Tom and Jerry (merely a milder version of Itchy and Scratchy).

Any traveller who has passed through Vaclav Havel Airport will know that there is already an amazing amount of Krtek merchandise from stuffed toys of various sizes, bags, stationary and even books (do people still read on paper?!). So launching various mole apps and ebooks merely continues the trend. But very soon the original artistic idea is totally buried under a pile of digital detritus.

From the very first episode 'How the Mole Got His Trousers' (1957) creativity and flights of fancy offered viewers relief from a life governed by perpetual bureaucracy. Little Mole gets help from his friends: a frog soaks the material, spiders spin the yarn, ants weave the cloth and a crayfish cuts the fabric to measure.

Miler said he got the idea for the character when he stumbled over a mole hill whilst walking in the woods. The most likely thing a young man of today will stumble into, as he is reading his Ipad, is a lamp post. Sadly, the Little Lamp Post is an unlikely candidate for a world famous cartoon character. But considering the state of pop culture these days, you never know...

Links:

The Wall Street Journal, 'Czech Cartoon Goes Digital Through iPad Apps, E-Books'

The New York Times, 'Zdenek Miler, Creator of Krtek the Mole, Dies at 90'

Krtek ve Městě (The Mole in the City) 1982 on youtube - a heartrending tale of deforestation

‘Entropa’: EU Art Controversy

‘Entropa’ made a great news story this week.

The sculpture was commissioned by the Czech government to mark the start of their European Union presidency and illustrate their slogan: ‘A Europe without Barriers’.

Instead, Czech artist David Černý created a work lampooning crude national stereotypes.

With Bulgaria shown as a Turkish toilet the Czech ambassador was summoned to Sofia to explain himself. Germany is presented as a patchwork of motorways vaguely resembling a swastika. Britain is missing altogether.

Most government art is unobtrusive and bland. This piece is challenging and interesting.

Art?

Is Kate Moss an artist? Of course she is, all the tabloids and free rags shout. She is 'it' - the golden girl that everyone wants to feel connected to.

Oh, isn't it scandalous that that picture she drew only sold for £33,600 at auction last Saturday? I mean, come on, it was a self-portrait with her own lipstick and... Pete Doherty's blood! Expected to fetch £40,000 - peanuts! I would have bought it for half a million! (If I was made of money, at least).

The title of Kate's masterpiece alone is a piece of art 'Who Needs Blood When You've Got Lipstick'. Yeah, what if we all had lipstick in our veins - no one would ever bleed to death again. And everyone's lips would be lovely and red the whole time. Wow! Or maybe she's talking about Pete's blood. Like: 'Pete, you're a wanker! I've got the best lipstick in the world!' Look, I can draw with it. 'Wow, Kate, that's wicked!'

But you gotta feel for Kate, dontchya? She must have been looking at Hirst's auction and thinking - I don't need a dead cow, I've got Pete's blood and my lipstick. Up your's Hirst! I should be the most expensive living artist in the world, not you!

But at least, Banksy's work took a bashing at the auction too. Really, though, what could he expect? He refused to authenticate the authenticity of his authorship. 'Yeah, bollocks, art world I don't care if you poncy pricks don't buy my work? It's not mine.' How cool and postmodern. No worries that his mural on the side of a van 'Fungle Junk' only went for half the expected £150,000?

So Hirst sold some of his work for £111 million on 15 September. Not bad. All those animals and formaldehyde must cost a bit anyway.

It is surely a step forward for civilisation that top artist's these days don't have to die in poverty and disgrace before they achieve fame and certain players start selling their works for heaps of cash. If only Van Gogh had pickled his own ear in a jar and set up his own auction instead of descending into madness and eating his own paint. But then the art world, now, would be light years ahead of its time. Hirst would be a drunken farmer and Kate would be a checkout assistant. And today's artists would be conducting the world economy!

Henry Moore and the Countryside Exhibition

'Henry Moore und die Landschaft' at Opelvillen in Rüsselsheim from 7.11.07 to 30.3.08
Entrance: €6, €4 concs

On Saturday 16 February I visited the Henry Moore exhibition at the Opel Villa in Ruesselsheim about 30 minutes by train outside Frankfurt am Main. It was not what I had expected or secretly hoped for. Not for the first time, I was taken in by the advertising posters. These showed sheep grazing under a huge undulating organic metal form created by the Yorkshire lad. Forever the optimist, I looked forward to ambling about a huge green field dotted with such swirling forms and even the odd baaing sheep. Although pessimists enjoy immunity from disappointment, I still prefer revelling in my optimism while it lasts. At the exhibition my expectations gradually merged into the reality and, all in all, it was great to see some of Moore's works 'in the flesh' for the first time. So let's just focus on what was on view...

Around eight reclining figures were on display over the Villa's two floors, all of them so much smaller than the one with the sheep - indeed; they were actually smaller than a single adult sheep. And the numerous maquettes, small bone-like forms waiting to hatch like eggs into bigger things, were quite a bit smaller than lambs. Apart from that, I was mildly surprised to find the walls hung with dozens of two-dimensional artworks by the master sculptor. These were very abstract, for me, not as interesting as what they must ultimately have inspired; the three-dimensional forms themselves.

Moore explained that there are three basic positions for the human body: standing, sitting and lying. He saw that the reclining position afforded the sculptor the most freedom of form. Standing positions are limited and seated positions always require some sort of seat, whereas lying offers a countless number of possibilities - just try and count the times you readjust your body as you lie tossing and turning in bed one night and you’ll get what he means. I gleaned this information from one of the information posters – be warned that these were only in German!

You were allowed to touch the metal sculptures - run your hand along the smooth surfaces and explore the nooks and crannies. However, the two stone sculptures were off-limits. Now, I cannot recall the exact forms I saw in my head, they are not easily remembered like flat images, nor for that matter classical statues. The beauty of Moore's scluptures are that they change form and meaning as you circle around them. Wave upon twirl of raw lava flicker and cast shadows here and then there. You think you see a human resemblance and then you move on and you see the sheer face of a cliff.

The most interesting sketches for me were a series of details of an elephant skull. Taken as a whole an elephant skull is a complex feat of nature, but focusing on individual sections, as Moore does, only increases the wonder. A single curve on the cranium could be an old bent tree trunk. Moore was certainly dealing with the forces of nature and what more mighty and symbolic than an elephant.

Finally, there was a twenty minute film in which Moore discusses his work. Opel Villa does not seem too concerned about catering for non-German speaking visitors: the film was overdubbed in German. Even so, there were breaks in which Moore's Yorkshire accent could be heard uninterrupted. He came across as a very amiable and wise old gentleman. It was from 1981 when Moore was 83, so a little dated, but it was interesting to hear from the sculptor himself (he died in 1986). You saw him driving around his field of sculptures in Perry Green! And in his workshop surrounded by old bits of wood, stones and boney parts.

But where did Moore really learn how to sculpt such curves, oh! such curves? Well, his mother suffered from rheumatism and she gave her seventh child, young Henry, the privilage of rubbing oil onto her back. Ten-year-old Henry was a little embarassed, but he sure did learn from the top. What is more curvaceous than a woman's shoulder blades and the long sweep down to her round buttocks?

The exhibition certainly whetted my appetite for Moore. I look forward to seeing some of his really huge works. Of course, Sheep Piece at Perry Green, Hertfordshire, England, is the top of my list.