De Kooning’s panoramic MoMA retrospective

By - Dec 15th, 2011 12:46 pm
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Willem de Kooning (American, born the Netherlands. 1904-1997) Woman, I, 1950-52 Oil, enamel and charcoal on canvas 6′ 3 7/8″ x 58″ (192.7 x 147.3 cm) The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Purchase. © 2011 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

To understand the revolutionary quality of Willem de Kooning’s figural paintings, consider the emphasis on purity and abstraction that mid-century Modernism demanded. “Advanced” painters needed to pare away illusion to arrive at line, color and form on a flat, rectangular picture plane.

“Purity in art,” according to influential critic Clement Greenberg, “consists in the acceptance . . . of the limitations of the medium of the specific art.” Greenberg claimed that artists could ignore the demands of their moment in time at the peril of artistic enervation and obsolescence. “The imperative,” he writes in Towards a Newer Laocoon (1940), “comes from history, from the age in conjunction with a particular moment reached in a particular tradition of art. This conjunction holds the artist in a vise from which at the present moment he can escape only by surrendering his ambition and returning to a stale past.”

A lack of clear direction in today’s art-world makes it difficult to fully appreciate the inflexibility of 1950s aesthetics. We can longer visualize, without irony, a straight line of progression from the first human scribblings to the height of representation in the Renaissance, and onward to the apex of advanced art: abstraction. When de Kooning first stopped disguising the figurative elements in his work, it was the art world equivalent of insisting that a round Earth orbited the Sun. He strained against the tyranny of the mainstream avant-garde with its proscriptions against subject matter.

“You could not paint a house or a tree or a mountain,” he complained, and the “pure form of comfort became the comfort of pure form,” which they “generalized, with their book-keeping minds, into circles and squares.” Although, or perhaps because he struggled with the dogma of his time, his work still appears fresh and timeless today.

Portrait of Elaine, the woman he married in 1943, is one of the most interesting drawings from the early 1940s. The background is barely suggested, her oversized garments are lightly outlined, and her head and hands emerge as the only modeled forms. She is seated, but not at rest despite the relaxed pose. Her head is too large for her body and her eyes are bigger still, staring with an intensity that prefigures the famous Woman paintings.

In 1947-48, de Kooning launched a series of combined male and female figures. In Untitled (Man and Woman), keeping with traditional Western ideas, the man is self-contained, upright, separated from the environment, and looks heavenward. The woman seems to be leaking or exploding into a landscape. Gradually, in de Kooning’s work, a second female replaces the male form, which de Kooning based on a self-portrait. He never reappears. A duality continues in a few paintings of female figures: one upright, the other an agitated collection of human parts and strained boundaries, more or less seated in a chair. Soon, though, he lost interest in the proper figure and began to focus on the earthly mess of motion and flesh represented by the other. In the late 1940s, he discovered that by painting an isolated figure he was able to eliminate “composition, arrangement, relationships, light” and decided that he “might as well stick with the idea that “it’s got two eyes, a nose and mouth and neck.”

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Willem de Kooning (American, born the Netherlands, 1904–1997) Excavation, 1950 Oil and enamel on canvas 81 x 100 1/4 in. (205.7 x 254.6 cm) The Art Institute of Chicago. Mr. and Mrs. Frank G. Logan Purchase Prize Fund; restricted gifts of Edgar J. Kaufmann, Jr., and Mr. and Mrs. Noah Goldowsky, Jr. © 2011 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

De Kooning continued working in both abstract and figurative veins. He pared down the abstractions into first white on black and then black on white calligraphic compositions of line and form compressed into rectangular canvasses. Concurrently, he developed a second Woman series of abstracted figures composited or dissected onto a shifting ground of positive and negative space. Such titles as Black Friday and Judgment Day refer to traditional Christian symbolism. The women sit frontally with breasts exposed; a nod to ubiquitous Madonnas in Renaissance pyramid compositions. The women also recall medieval depictions of sin and corruption. Like the depictions of Luxuria (Lust) at St-Pierre de Moissac, they are decayed, deformed, leaking, and integrated with the corruption of nature.

De Kooning completed his most celebrated paintings in just five years, 1948 to 1953. The period began with a summer residency at Black Mountain College. Other faculty members included John Cage, Merce Cunningham, and Buckminster Fuller, and the de Koonings worked with them on the design of a theatrical production. De Kooning focused on a single painting, Asheville, during most of the residency. Here, he integrates figural fragments and what appear to be buildings and avenues in a compressed rectangle of line, color and motion. As in his black and white work, he built the composition by cutting up figural drawings and reassembling the fragments into abstractions, and now bringing jewel-like color back to the mix. Returning to his studio in fall, it suddenly all came together. De Kooning began working on the Woman paintings, continued the black and white abstractions, and soon began one of the largest and most powerful easel paintings of his career.

Excavation is a crucible in which the collaged figural elements seem to melt under intense pressure. There are fragments of Guernica, a ladder, a grin, roofline and skylight and other bits of recognizable imagery, but the elements melt into a seemingly abstract composition. The structure recalls the apocalyptic vision of Pieter Bruegel in The Triumph of Death. According to Elaine de Kooning, when she commented on the similarity, the artist brought out a reproduction of the painting from his work table. De Kooning, in 1951: “I’m not interested in ‘abstracting’ or taking things out or reducing painting to design, form, line and color. I paint this way because I can keep putting more and more things in—drama, anger, pain, love, a figure, a horse, my ideas about space.” This painting contains an entire compressed universe.

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Willem de Kooning (American, born the Netherlands. 1904-1997) Easter Monday 1955-56 Oil and newspaper transfer on canvas 96 x 74″ (243.8 x 188 cm) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Rogers Fund © 2011 The Willem de Kooning Foundation/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

De Kooning struggled to emerge from under the shadow of Picasso, and then gradually became the oedipal figure for the next generation of artists to admire and slay. In 1953, Rauschenberg asked de Kooning for a drawing to erase, an important drawing that was already Art. Understanding, but not approving of the project, de Kooning gave him a drawing that he (and history) would miss, and that would not easily yield. Over the course of a month and many erasers, the younger artist transformed de Kooning’s drawing into his own Erased de Kooning Drawing.

De Kooning, unvanquished, continued to change and to grow. In fact, many of his works from the mid and late 1950s prefigure Rauschenberg’s flatbed collage and self-conscious dripping paint. In Easter Monday, he used a newspaper transfer as a major compositional element. Although de Kooning denies that the selections have symbolic importance, he carefully applied brushstrokes to preserve the images and text.

In the 1960s de Kooning began to spend more and more time on the coast. He finally moved to the rural East End of Long Island in 1963. His work became more connected to land and sea, calmer, and prettier. Figure, landscape and abstraction merged into pastoral luminosity, with earth tones juxtaposed against garish greens and fleshy pinks.

In a sudden change of direction, in 1969, de Kooning began working in two entirely new mediums: printmaking and sculpture. Never afraid of anachronism, he applied himself to a new body of figurative work using the unfashionable medium of bronze. Shaped from wet clay, the forms retain the marks of their making, recording the squishiness of a malleable and slippery substance. Figural and yet organic, like twisted branches or liquid figures reflected by water, they stand, sit, and straddle the white gallery pedestals. The museum chose to show them frontally, probably due to a lack of space – an entire floor of MoMA was barely enough to hold this life.

The Museum of Modern Art has published a 500-page catalog with essays and reproductions of the entire retrospective exhibition. That catalog is the source of most of the quotations in this review. The de Kooning show runs through Jan. 9 at MoMA. More images and information are available at this page on the MoMA website.

Categories: A/C Feature 2, Art

0 thoughts on “De Kooning’s panoramic MoMA retrospective”

  1. Anonymous says:

    This author is guilty of writing without thinking. So many canards, so much laziness of thought lies behind these misconceptions.

    Aesthetics was no more “inflexible” in the 1950s than it has ever been at any time in history, before or since. Some artists took risks, some didn’t. Some painted a certain way because they thought they’d be successful with it… this is no different today. Uninspired artists made bad abstractions in the 50s, and uninspired artists make banal installations today. Is the idea of a ‘trend’ in art so strange? The history of art is full of such instances (indeed, the history of art IS the history of such trends).

    Critics like Greenberg did not “proscribe” how they thought painters should paint: they described how painters WERE ACTUALLY painting, and tried to figure out why. How people like the author above fail to grasp this most simple of facts about art criticism is beyond me… it seems like wilful ignorance, really. It was the painters that would talk to Greenberg of “purity”, and it was Greenberg’s job, as a writer, to try to communicate what they meant by the term. Duh.

    Greenberg never suggested that art history was a “straight line” of “progress” (another straw-man argument, spun out of whole cloth).

    “Mainstream avant-garde” is an oxymoron. The writer evidently does not understand the meanings of these words. This is pathetic.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Ryan, certainly art and criticism have influenced one another throughout the ages, but Greenberg held particular sway in his moment and, in contrast with our own time when there is no single prevailing trend, the concept of “purity” (as expounded by Greenberg) saturated mid-century modernism. The most influential art critics of today are generally more careful to describe rather than proscribe. Hal Foster, for instance, curates a panel of historians, artists and critics to articulate current trends in the international art world and is very careful not to summarize the findings (http://www.e-flux.com/journal/contemporary-extracts/). Thames & Hudson publications take a similar approach: listing dozens of contemporary artists and using their work to identify and chronicle small and diverse trends. Greenberg did cross the line, especially in his writings about purity of medium, beginning in his 1940 essay “Towards a Newer Laocoon” (http://www.lost-painters.nl/towards-a-newer-laocoon/2010/04/27/). Yes, art was tending toward abstraction, and Greenberg tried to explain that tendency, but his writings also helped lead to an academization of the avant-garde, which I am well aware is oxymoronic.

    In the mid-1900s, history was generally considered a linear progression, and abstract art was the pinnacle, referred to as “advanced art.” Quoting Kurt Vanedoe, “Greenberg argued that Pollock had advanced the line of abstraction’s logical progress toward its supposedly destined goal of expressing the essential visual qualities of painting without any extraneous literary content.” Alfred Barr’s 1936 diagram charts “The Evolution of Abstract Art,” and mirrors diagrams of biological evolution. In many ways, the art that followed Pollock’s abstraction and Greenberg’s corresponding theory, Minimalism and Pop in particular, were direct reactions against the doctrine of purity, taking it to the ridiculous extreme or rejecting it outright. Rauschenberg is often credited with creating a completely “impure” art in reaction to his predecessors, but deKooning led the way. In the 1940s and ’50s, deKooning’s figural paintings were a radical transgression of prevailing theory and trends.

    Another interesting irony is that the critic Harold Rosenberg held up deKooning as an example of Action Painting, when his work method involved careful compositions based on tracings, preliminary drawings, and obsessive re-working.

  3. Anonymous says:

    This is what I’m talking about: Greenberg “held particular sway”… What does this mean? “Held sway” is a lazy cliché, that means whatever the reader thinks it means. It is loaded with innuendo.

    And this: “most influential art critics of today are generally more careful to describe rather than proscribe”… more careful than WHOM? Than Greenberg? But, I just finished telling you that description, not proscription, was emphatically what Greenberg was on about in his writing. You fail to come to terms with this fact, again.

    And this: “Greenberg did cross the line…” What line? A moral line? An unwritten code? When? How? You don’t back up this assertion… Didn’t Greenberg simply do what critics are supposed to do: report on their perceptions?

    And this: “Yes, art was tending toward abstraction…” This is laziness. What art? All art? Obviously not, so what are you talking about, when you say, “Art was tending toward…”? Do you mean the best art? American art? Popular art? Mainstream art? You fail to supply any specifics, because you aren’t looking with any depth.

    And this: “his writings also helped lead to an academization of the avant-garde…” This is meaningless. Demonstrate the causality you claim. Show me what specific writings you mean, and demonstrate how those words, arranged in that order, caused the “academization of the avant-garde”, whatever that (admitted oxymoron) means.

    And this: “In the mid-1900s, history was generally considered a linear progression, and abstract art was the pinnacle, referred to as “advanced art.” Says who? Not Greenberg… some guy named Varnedoe, maybe? “Advanced art” merely refers to the best art of the moment, not abstract art, as you believe. In the renaissance, advanced art would have used convincing perspective, which was a “progression” beyond the less-convincing space of gothic imagery….

    By the beginnings of modernism, with Manet, with Cezanne, the trend towards flatter, less illusionism, more clear presentation of paint as paint, was a fact. This can be seen and identified when you look at the “progression” of historic styles. This is just how the world of painting was going, and Greenberg pointed to these facts, and said, look: painting is getting flatter, less illusionistic, more about paint.

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