I made it to Musée Rodin!

http://www.musee-rodin.fr/en/exhibition/capturing-model

After wanting to go for months, I finally found the time to visit the Rodin Museum and the extraordinary current exhibition- Capturing The Model, Rodin 300 Drawings 1890-1917. The drawing work Rodin completed of a live model was quite independent from his sculpture. In 1896 drawing became a serious carer for him and drawing nudes a daily practice. He was always eager to appraise drawing and in 1910 said "my drawings are the key to my work".

Within the exhibition, the drawings are divided, grouped into specific themes such as cutting out and assembling (collage style) and Dessin Instantané (Instantaneous Drawing) which involved drawing from a live model without letting his eyes look at his sheet of paper. In total, there are 15 groups shown which really demonstrates the diversity in his drawing a skill, which despite having mastered, still remains a relatively unknown talent of his. I am particularly fond of his earlier sketches which are heavily layered. Ink, washes, gouache, hachured pen lines and smudges. The combination of all this medium help build up an image, adding depth and tone to the model's skin and creating a body form. His continuous re-inventing of different techniques show his avid interest in pushing his practice further and experimenting.

The exhibition gave me a real feeling of wanting to start my life drawing classes in London again. But this time leaving my charcoal at home and instead taking inks and pens.

Aside from the exhibition, within the museum and in the beautiful gardens you can see some of Rodin's most celebrated sculptures such as The Thinker. It is a very relaxed atmosphere in which to view the work, almost like wondering around an elegant town house but nonetheless the work is undoubtedly incredible.

Contemporary Art Class

After last week's rather disappointing exhibitions I thoroughly enjoyed this week's class and was pleasantly surprised with the high quality of both the work shown and the galleries themselves.

The first gallery was Plateau in the 19th Arrondissement. We were here to see the exhibition Alien Theory with collaborative video work by the Portuguese artists Joao Maria Gusmao and Pedro Paiva. On doing a bit of preliminary research on these artists I was able to find an interesting Guardian review of an exhibition of their's held in Birmingham. Although the work shown in this exhibition was new work, reading the article again after visiting Plateau, I was able to recognize the consistency in their working practice and chosen themes.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2010/feb/03/joao-maria-gusmao-pedro-paiva



The unassuming exterior of the gallery.


The exhibition featured around 30 of their silent, short films projected by clattering old film projectors. Though some people found the noise irritating and distracting, I was comforted by their nostalgic rattling in the same way that I appreciate the banging of an old loom when I am weaving. As well as the short films, the exhibition also featured 2 entrancing camera obscuras- that of turning bicycle wheels and the delicate flapping of ornate Japanese fans.

The films themselves are dream like scenarios often wavering between the boundary of reality and fiction, wit and poetry. The artists draw influence form science fiction, myths and proverbs, ethnography and paranormal phenomena. Some focus in minute detail on simple events and occurrences such as the splash of a stone into a lake or the movement of a bird in front of a painted background. They give us a real sense of anticipation, of the imminent arrival of action which ultimately never comes. Timothy said that the artist like to play on the idea of boredom. But not once during the whole exhibition was I bored. I was truly captivated.

Other films told a narrative and gave me the impression they were concealing a hidden meaning. For example the pained expression of the blind man eating the watermelon or the chimpanzees who were fishing potatoes out of a pot which at first sight appeared to be full of boiling water. Though we the viewer interpret the water to be boiling and therefore dangerous to touch, the chimpanzees are evidently clever enough to realize actually an artificial trick and the water is merely bubbling by the presence of an air pipe but is totally cold to the touch. Are the artists trying to point out the ignorance of humans? Many questions remain unanswered and the guide informed us that the artists refused to give an explanation of their work. They prefer people to draw their own conclusions.

I was particularly drawn by the magical ambience of some of the films which showed a process. Such as the footprints which are used like casts and filled with liquid metal to create replica metal feet, or the slow spaghetti making process which was more like a hypnotic exercise. Not to mention the fruit which appear to be hovering and dancing as if acting out a balletic scene. It is by no accident that the artists have allowed their strings and other low-budget, low-tech special effects to be visible. They deliberately want to reveal to us the mainsprings of their making, which I believe adds to their innocent and naive appeal. In addition, the old method chosen means that the appearance of the films will become increasingly grainy and their quality will deteriorate with use. Many of the industrial design students struggled to comprehend this desire to age their work but I found it gave the films a softer more endearing appearance which added to their mystery and intrigue. The slow pace of the films also created a rather sombre and melancholic atmosphere which really gave one time to ponder the subject.










Within the Guardian review, I found these two quotes particularly relevant and poignant in relation to the exhibition-

"Inexplicably beautiful, arresting and incomprehensible"

"like some kind of old scientific demonstration film- except one is never exactly sure what is being demonstrated, or why".

The second exhibition continued the theme of surreal experience but in a completely contrasting way. The exhibition at Bugada & Cargnel Cosmicgalerie was the Works of Julio Le Parc from 1959-1971 entitled The Eye of the Cyclops. Much of the work was very interactive and reminded me a little of the Science Museum in London.

The work was very futuristic, innovative and rather surreal. It also possessed a dream like quality but of a totally different genre to that of the previous exhibition. The contrast between the two exhibitions, of nostalgia and silence versus technology and energy worked well. And despite their differences, I enjoyed each as much as the other.










We finished the evening once again in a tiny Parisian bar which was so stereotypically local, it felt as though we were entering a film set. I suppose this aptly carried on the dreamlike nature of the evening. With old, dusty Moroccan carpets on the table tops and a weathered old man in a suit serving behind the bar I felt like Alice in Wonderland. What a fabulous end to an enjoyable evening.

Yayoi Kusama at the Pompidou

"My life is symbolized by one polka dot or one particle among millions of them" Kusama, 1975.


In a similar manner to my experience of the Edvard Munch exhibition at the Pompidou I could not help feeling a resoundingly melancholic atmosphere seeping from the works of Kusama. It was not till after seeing two thirds of the exhibition that I realized I was completely just in my thinking. At that point I felt strange. I felt as though what I was actually looking at wasn't paintings, sculptures, videos and collages by the artist but instead a deep psychological report of her inner self.

The exhibition is a retrospective dedicated to Kusama, one of the most famous contemporary Japanese artists and shows works produced between 1949 and 2011. Through tracing her life story alongside her pictures it is fascinating to observe the evolution of her subjects and medium.


Lingering Dream, 1949

Her first paintings show clearly her training at the Kyoto School of Art. However, many also bear certain motifs that would become characteristic to her future work. I believe these first works hold a great aura of mystery and intrigue. While some are quite dark and deep, others capture the simplicity of an abstract pattern. What is definitely evident to me is the effectiveness of a repetition of marks, be it graphic, organic or dreamlike. It was interesting to learn that following the annihilation of Hiroshima, exploration of Dada and surrealism became a cult for the Japanese avant-garde of the 1950s.

At this point I should explain, or try to, the founding element of her artistic practice- the Dot pattern as this first appeared, as a subsitute for her Self-Portrait in 1950. Basically, in a nutshell, Kusama and her Dot legacy was born from an early childhood memory of a hallutionation she experienced at 10 years of age. Whilst sitting at her kitchen table, the red flower pattern of the tablecloth multiplied itself covering ceiling, walls, the floor and even Yayoi herself. She describes the event as the beginning of her Self-Obliteration and feeling like a soul without a body. From this, her work developed with the idea of reinhabiting her body.

In 1958, the artist moved to New York feeling that she had no future as a female artist in post-Hiroshima Japan. Here her work changed dramatically.



Kusama in front of her 33 foot white Infinity Nets painting in New York, 1961



From a simple brushstroke technique a texture has grown to give the canvas a tactile, wrinkled effect. Her obsession with the repetition of a simple mark on a large scale is highly impacting and spectacular.




Infinity Nets Yellow, 1960

I was particularly struck by her yellow and brown version as it reminded me of the beautiful hues of the sunflowers I bought in the market yesterday. A flower that is so symbolic of the French summertime.

After this period of experimenting with simple techniques during the 1960s Kusama's work took on a very different direction as she turned to the creation of collages using found and accumulated objects. She became particularly intrigued by the discards of consumer society and worked closely with the artist Donald Judd. Her work became a bit conceptual for my liking as she gradually descended into a bizzare world of obliterating dots. At this point, amongst the bizzare video performances of Kusama, horses, trees and lakes all covered in dots I read something which confirmed my suspicions.

Her return to Japan in 1973 was an extremely challenging and painful experience. Her feelings of displacement combined with the death of a friend, her father and her own suicide attempt led her to decide to live in a psychiatric institution where she continues to rest today.

Despite this tragic turn in her life, she continued to work and in 1993 she even represented Japan at the Venice Biennial. It was now that she decided to focus her energies on designing new environments which give the spectator the experience of sensory immersion. They cause you to become completely absorbed and lose all point of reference as a cause of the reflections and light. She wants us to "question the place of man in the cosmos". Two 'environment' rooms are in this exhibition. Although I'm pretty sure they didn't cause the majority of people to do some profound reflecting, it was true that they caused one to get totally lost and immersed in an unknown location which could in fact be interpreted as quite unsettling.




Looking at Kusama's most recent paintings which sit near the beginning of the exhibition and her earliest works continue to surprise with yet another style. I personally think that her choice of colour and the simplicity of her repetition of abstracted shapes give her most recent images a Mexican vibe.



What a varied exhibition which is bound to get people talking. The interactive rooms are definitely going to appeal to many, however the melancholic thread that runs throughout the evolution of her work is, in my opinion something that has come to define her as an artist.

Svenskt Tenn exhibition at the Swedish Institute

The Swedish Institute of Paris is housed in a beautiful old building with a courtyard and walled garden tucked up a side street in the heart of the Marais. They currently have an exhibition of work by the classic swedish interior design company Svenskt Tenn. Founded in 1924 by Estrid Ericson, the austrian architect Josef Frank was recruited 10 years later and left a profound mark on the brand that still defines its iconic look today. In his own (all be it rather self-confident) words Frank claimed-


" Je travaille à partir d'une tradition riche et cultivée, j'ai sauvé la décoration Suédoise et creé le style Scandinave. Avant moi, la seule source d'inspiration était le Bauhaus"

When the pair began what was to become one of the most successful collaborations in Swedish design in the 1930s they decided to adopt a style contrary to the aesthetics of the century. The style they created is characterized by its rich colours and motifs. Frank designed more than 160 textile motifs for Svenskt Tenn. Most of which are botanical creations full of fantasy and imagination. I suppose he can loosely be called Sweden's answer to William Morris. In a similar way I also believe Franks' designs are timeless. Though their busyness and eccentricity may not be to everyone's taste, their vivacity and memorable presence are sure to make them stick around. They have a style which can transcend all ages and genders and bring a smile to your face even on the most dreary of days!





"Il n'y a rien de plus beau que des murs blancs, c'est aux différents textiles qu'ils revient de donner de la couleur à un pièce"

Estrid Ericson.

Topographies De La Guerre- LE BAL

This evening for our contemporary arts class we took a visit to Le Bal situated in the 18th arrondissement near to Place de Clichy. Not really the sort of area in which one would expect to find an edgy, highly contemporary space as there are probably more kebab shops than people. The centre (and I refer to it as a centre because it is neither a gallery selling work or a museum with a collection) is tucked up a tiny passageway called La Défénce which our teacher informed us used to be a hang out for prostitutes and drug dealers until a few years ago. Lovely. Back in the 20s the building was a vast dance hall, hence the name Le Bal but it underwent numerous changes through the years, e.g. into a underhand betting shop etc but 2 years ago, with the gradual gentrification of the area the centre opened. Although it has the clean cut, white walled appearance of many contemporary art galleries, the centre is somewhat different in that it only shows documentary work. The shows, often film, photography and photojournalism inform and educate as well as inciting though and debate. Although not always their deliberate intention, they are often interpreted to be extremely political and controversial. This thread reminded me a little of Melik Ohanian's film I saw at the weekend. When we are shown a slice of reality which does exist but which we chose not to acknowledge it can often conjure negative reactions or total dismissal. I suppose if I had visited the current show, Topographies De La Guerre on my own and without a helpful guide I too would have perhaps been quick to pass through the works reading them as a bleak and depressing reflection of the current state of the world.

Reading into it a little further it was actually fascinating to see such an alternative presentation of the war, focusing on the sites, the positions, the geological terrain or built spaces instead of the human action. With the blood, fire, explosion,action and bodies usually so closely entwined with the image of war, one was able to step back and have a more broad, philosophical view which allowed you to ponder the dynamic between war and space.

Some works which have stuck in my mind are Paolo de Pietri's "To Face" collection of landscape photographs capturing demure signs from WW1 such as stonewalls, bunkers, graves and trenches in dramatic locations such as the Alps. What's most interesting is how these once crucial, solid infrastructures have in time, been eroded and overrun by vegetation. It is almost as though nature had wanted to assimilate these entities to make them it's own.



The Lebanese artist, Walid Raad's work was also memorable from a visual point of view as beautiful patterns had been created despite the reason behind there placement being a rather morbid one. The work is based on the civil war in 70s Beirut. The artist spent several yaers removing bullets and shrapnel from the walls, cars and trees of the city. He kept a note of where he found every single bullet and photographed the sites of his findings. He then placed coloured dots over the photographs which corresponded to the bullet's diameter and the mesmerizing hues found on the bullets' tips. It was not until 10 years later that he realized that ammunitions manufactures follow distinct colour codes to mark and identify their cartridges and shells and their origin.




The artist is interested in archiving the war through fragments of memory. The works consist of sketches, photographs and dots all overlapping and covering each other to represent the dissorganisation of memory. It is only after listening to the guide that we are all informed that the work is actually totally fictitious, an imaginary narrative made to create a memory. During times of war, the artist believes we have no time to form memories as everyday action dominate our lives. It is after that one must construct an artificial memory to archive the event. This struck me as somewhat unexpected as I had totally believed the work and apart from the words of the guide, their was nothing to lead us to believe otherwise. The artist has taken a similar angle on his work on numerous occasions and it is presented under the project title- The Atlas Group. The website sheds a bit more information on his contemporary form of documentation-

http://www.theatlasgroup.org/

Donovan Wylie's "Outposts" was also more complex than first met the eye. His dramatic photographs capture military watchtowers in the beige, barren landscape of Afghanistan. These small buildings possess great power in that they can control war through vision. What interested this Irish photographer specifically about these watchtowers was that they were in fact British watchtowers built by the British military on the hilltops along the border between Northern and Southern Ireland. Following the Saint-Andrews Agreement, the watchtowers were dissmantled, moved and reassembled in another theater of operation in Afghanistan.It is interesting to think how the placing of such simple structures can transform the territory of any nation into a "war territory". Apparently, the watchtowers have since been dissmantled and moved to the arctic to survey its ecological decline. Thinking of the three locations, the rolling, lush, green Irish hills, the barren, dry Afghanistan landscape and now the crisp, watery, white arctic landscape is particularly thought-provoking. Our only questions were whether the towers were painted to be better camouflaged within the different areas and also the cost of moving the towers. This was surely considerably more that the cost of the towers themselves?



Other exhibits included maps created by inhabitants of a refugee camp. It was interesting to think about how a map can be a military and an artistic tool to place you in a space. All maps are primarily just a reinterpretation of space and "every border depends on where you are". Another set of photographs which appeared to be shot in Iraq were in fact of a californian military base created with identical conditions to the combat zone in the Middle East and with the purpose of training the soldiers before being sent to fight. With the help of top Hollywood film directors, the core purpose was to reproduce a setting in order to better master the original.

I am definitely no fan of war, and struggle to see its benefits amid all the problems it causes. I would probably even go so far as to call myself a pacifist. Despite this, I found this show thoroughly thought provoking and captivating. Avoiding the obvious cliches of war allowed one to delve further into the other array of complexities left in its wake.

Échos- Musée Nissim de Camondo

This Museum, situated in North Western Paris is a fine example of an 19th century Parisian townhouse full to the brim with a remarkable collection of French decorative arts of the eighteenth century. The mansion was owned by the Camondo family who originally came from Spain. Moïse de Camondo, the father had only one son who was killed during the First World War. He himself also died in 1935 and wrote his will his wish to bequeath his town house and its collections to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs and to be named Nissim de Camondo (the name of his son to whom the house and its collections had been destined). He was particularly passionate that the town house should be seen by the public -

"This reconstitution is intended, in my mind, to preserve in France, gathered in particularly appropriate surroundings, the finest examples I have been able to assemble of this decorative art which was one of the glories of France, during the period that I have loved above all others."

Sadly, Moïse de Camondo's daughter, her husband and her children died tragigally at Auschwitz. Hence all the family disappeared.

With this history in mind it was therefore a bit difficult at first to comprehend why this setting would be an appropriate space to host an exhibition of contemporary art titled Échos. the contemporary exhibits were scattered around the house, mixed within the antiques and sometimes highly visible but occasionally very difficult to spot. To prevent any further waffle I would like to summarize my thoughts and findings in two points.

1. The choice of the mansion as an exhibition space. The town house was a very unusual choice and this was the first exhibition of this kind to be held here. I have seen other exhibitions of contemporary art placed within old surroundings in London (I distinctly remember one at the PM gallery). It seems as though this is becoming quite a trendy, popular choice nowadays. It is certainly not to everyones taste, especially traditionalists. Personally I am not really fond of the clash caused between the antique and the modern. However I believe that this exhibition was curated by students as part of their final diploma so I suppose to use such a controversial and 'a la mode' choice of space can be expected.

2. What on earth is the connection between the choice of space and the exhibits?! At first the choice to place a sound recording by Louise Bourgeois recalling fading childhood memories in close vicinity to vases from Queen Marie-Antoinette's collection seemed nonsensical. Ok well it took me a while to figure this one out and with a little help from Timothy the link became apparent. All the contemporary works in fact dealt with the theme of loss and disappearance. This echoed the history of the Camondo family who were all exterminated and therefore the choice to located the exhibition within their home was deemed appropriate.

A glimpse at the contemporary exhibits....