Last Trip to a Museum in 2012 - The William S. Paley Collection: A Taste for Modernism at De Young Museum in San Francisco

My museum visits in this year (2012) have been greatly augmented by my trips to China, Austria and Italy in May and October, especially the one to Europe, which I have sporadically discussed in my previous blog entries. 

Yesterday, 30 December 2012, I returned to De Young Museum in San Francisco for The William S. Paley Collection: A Taste for Modernism, on the very last day of the exhibit, of which The De Young Museum website informed us was "A selection of major works from the William S. Paley Collection at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.. A pioneering figure in the modern entertainment, communication and news industries, Mr. Paley (1901–1990) was a founder of the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS), and a dedicated philanthropist and patron of the arts. The Paley Collection, which includes paintings, sculpture and drawings, ranges in date from the late 19th century through the early 1970s. Particularly strong in French Post-Impressionism and Modernism, the collection includes multiple works by Paul Cezanne, Henri Matisse and Pablo Picasso, as well as significant works by Edgar Degas, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, Paul Gauguin, Andre Derain, Georges Rouault and artists of the Nabis School such as Pierre Bonnard and Edouard Vuillard."

It was an astonishingly rich collection and one highlight succeeded another.  Though I've seen most of them in New York's MOMA, it was wonderful to see them again, in our home museum.  Amongst those wonderful works, I particularly love these below:


The Seed of the Areoi, 1892, Paul Gauguin


Strawberries, c 1905, Pierre-Auguste Renoir


Milk Can and Apples (1879-80), Paul Cezanne


Reclining Nude, 1897, Pierre Bonnard


Two Dancers, 1905, Edgar Degas


Mme Lili Grenier, 1888, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec


Woman with a Veil, c 1907, Henri Matisse


Seated Woman with a Vase of Amaryllis, 1941, Henri Matisse


Odalisque with a Tambourine, Henri Matisse


Boy Leading a Horse, 1905-06, Pablo Picasso


Still Life with Guitar, 1920, Pablo Picasso


Portrait of Ambroise Vollard, 1925, Georges Rouault


Oasis (Mirage), 1944, Georges Rouault

I also stopped by to see another special exhibit: Rudolf Nureyev: A Life in Dance, which featured photos, video clips and costumes of the great dancer, overwhelming in its opulence and extravagance with a tint of vulgarity, redeemed by his unapologetic conviction.

Colorblindness and Congested Nose

Recently, I read an article online on a Chinese newspaper, Global Times, speculating that the great Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh's unique vision might be due to his possible colorblindness.  The theory was hypothesized by a Japanese medical scientist, Kazunori Asada.  It published several photos of Van Gogh's original painting and filtered version of them, simulating what colorblind people would see, and several scenery photos as well, both "normal" and "colorblind" versions.

Further search online yielded a more comprehensive article, Was Vincent van Gogh Colorblind?, which gives a fuller account of Asada's research:

Kazunori Asada, a Japanese medical scientist, has hypothesized that Vincent van Gogh was colorblind — a theory that would explain the artist’s use of clashing, often discordant colors.
Asada was incited to explore the theory after visiting a “Color Vision Experience Room” in Hokkaido, which provides visitors with the opportunity to experience vision as a colorblind person does.

To test his theory, Asada used a piece of software that filters light to simulate various degrees of colorblindness. Asada settled on a midrange spectrum deficiency to apply to several of van Gogh’s paintings, a process which subtly  but significantly changed the overall color effect of each work: the reds became softer, the blues less notable, and the yellows muted to the point of drab.

Kyle Chayka at BLOUIN Artinfo challenges the theory, reminding Asada that one of the commonalities among Post-Impressionist artists, including Paul Gauguin and André Derain, was an “unorthodox” pairing of colors. 

Furthermore, I found a Tumblr blog by Kazunori Asada, The Day I Saw Van Gogh’s Genius in a New Light, where the scientist pointed out that the simulated view of Van Gogh's paintings were actually closer to "normal" vision:

Left: Original / Right: Protanomal simulation (60%)
 

Left: Original / Right: Protanomal simulation (60%)
 

Below are those scenery photos from Global Times as mentioned in the beginning of this blog post.  Again, the right column images are of the simulated colorblind vision:

 

 

 

These are very interesting images.  For those scenery pictures, I actually prefer the "colorblind version" for their otherworldly poetic atmosphere.

However, I cannot deny that those pictures are only shadows of the real thing and miss a huge dimension.  This realization in turn reminded me of an intense experience I had recently regarding olfactory sense.

One day, despite struggling with a cold, I made a chicken stew, with a large array of spices.  Through my congested nose, I was satisfied with the lovely smell emitted from the stove top.  A nice stew of intense flavor and smell.  Satisfied.

Yet, not until midnight that I realized what I had smelled earlier was only a shadow of the reality.

In the middle of night, my nose suddenly got cleared up and an ever more intense smell of delicious cooking crashed into my bedroom and every cell of my body was stirred by the fortissimo olfactory symphony.  The flavors danced and clashed in the air and I was both amazed and irritated, thinking that one of my neighbors must be cooking in the ungodly hour.  Slowly, with my head got clearer, I realized that it was the remaining smell of my own chicken stew, prepared several hours earlier, from my very own kitchen.

It was a very strange experience.  Yes, while cooking, I knew my stew smelled great.  Only later that I realized I was only smelling the shadow of it.  What glory the reality was, comparing to some filtered ones!  By extension, our little understanding of the universe we live in is only the shadow of shadow of shadow, perhaps.  And that's very optimistic.

Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele in Wien (Vienna)

Though I have always been drawn to Northern and Central European artists, such as those from Germany and Netherlands, before my recent trip to Vienna, Austrian artists, beside Oska Kokoschka, hadn't made much impression on me, though I was not aware of other leading figures, such as Gustav Klimt (1862-1918) and Egon Schiele (1890-1918).

Of these two, I was more familiar with Klimt, largely due to the broadly-reported lawsuit over his painting, Adele Bloch-Bauer I, which eventually was transferred from Belvedere, Austria to the heir to its original Jewish owner, then was sold to Neue Galerie, New York, and there I saw the painting in 2010, along with Klimt's Bildnes Baronin Elisabeth Bachofen-Echt (Portrait of Baroness Elisabeth Bachofen-Echt).  During the same trip, in New York MOMA, I also saw Klimt's Hope, II.  Egon Schiele was fuzzier to me.


Adele Bloch-Bauer I, Gustav Klimt, 1907, Neue Galerie New York


Bildnes Baronin Elisabeth Bachofen-Echt (Portrait of Baroness Elisabeth Bachofen-Echt), Gustav Klimt, c. 1914, Neue Galerie New York


Hope, II, 1907-08, Gustav Klimt, Museum of Modern Art (MOMA), New York City

In October, I re-visited Vienna, Austria, where the 150th anniversary of Gustav Klimt was being celebrated by practically every important art museum, therefore my survey of his oeuvre became more comprehensive and I had much better understanding of Klimt.

In the meanwhile, the new museums I visited during that second trip to Vienna, mostly concentrating on Austrian art, brought me to the presence of another great Austrian artist, Egon Schiele and he instantaneously became one of my favorite artists.

Both Klimt and Schiele represented perfectly their time and place, with the older Klimt, the epitome of eroticism and decadence, the excess of fin de siècle, thoroughly bourgeois, and the younger Schiele, the comprehensive fear of the end of the century and the clear and present doom to come, despite his occasional Tiffany lamp styled, innocent enough landscapes and townscapes.

Since Klimt was the of the founding members and president of the Wiener Sezession (Vienna Secession) in 1897, it is fitting to start my discussion from a trip to Secession Building (Wiener Secessionsgebäude). 


Secession (Wiener Secessionsgebäude), Wien

The center piece of Klimt celebration in this rather modest museum was the Beethoven Frieze, loaned from Upper Belvedere, after Richard Wagner's interpretation of Ludwig van Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, with an overall length of 34.14 m (long walls 13.92 m each, front wall 6.30 m), and height of 2.15 - 2.00 m.  There was a fascinating video of the restoration process of this rather delicate, and "temporary" work.  There was a replica of a section of it for viewers to exam very closely.  For the real thing, one could see it in reasonably close range, on raised platform, mounted on top of a specially built room to its specific dimensions, covering all four sides of the wall.  The dominant theme was love or lust and the overwhelming color was gold.  This series was heavy with symbols yet I felt it was a bit underwhelmed, despite its visual dazzle.


Beethoven Frieze restoration video, Secession, Wien


Beethoven Frieze restoration video, Secession, Wien


Beethoven Frieze copy, Secession, Wien

For more permanent murals by Klimt, one should go to Burgtheater and Kunsthistorisches Museum.  I did spent a night at Burgtheater for a play by Herinch von Kleist - Der Prinz von Homburg, but we missed the entrance to the grand staircase adored with Klimt's murals before the show and it was closed afterward.  No intermission to exploit.  We were able, however, to see some of his drawings on the wall, just outside the auditorium.  Without the glittery colors he loved to employ, one could appreciate more of his draftsmanship but they didn't have the hallmarks of a Klimt and definitely was not as satisfying.


Burgtheater, Wien


Klimt Drawing, Burgtheater, Wien

The great art museum Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna celebrated Klimt with another raised platform, granting viewers a close look to Klimt murals dressed in their most splendid colors.  The theme was aptly called "Face to Face with Gustav Klimt".  His figures, confined in the niches, were quite like late medieval to early Renaissance paintings, stylized, otherworldly and absolutely enchanting.  They bore less obvious hallmark of Klimt we generally attributed to him - free-flowing sumptuousness.  Here, they were tightly controlled.  Very classical. 


Kunsthistorisches Museum, Wien


Face to Face with Gustav Klimt, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Wien


Face to Face with Gustav Klimt, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Wien

Klimt's more signature paintings could be seen in two museums specializing in Austrian arts: Oberes Belvedere (Upper Belvedere) and Leopold Museum.  These two museums, particularly Leopold, also boasted a stunning collection of Egon Schiele.


Oberes Belvedere and Fountain, Wien


Oberes Belvedere and Fountain, Wien

Klimt's paintings in Oberes Belvedere bore all the familiar traits of his; even his landscape had an unfettered sensuality, which was the hallmark of its epoch of self-expression and self-indulgence, of Freud.


Allee im Park vor Schloß Kammer, Gustav Klimt, um 1902, Oberes Belvedere, Wien

His figure, particularly those female nudes, such as Eve (Eva) and Judith below, seemed live in the time and space utterly outside the domain implied by their respective titles.  They were confident, seductive and overtly sensual.  The juxtaposition of endless arrays of colors and patterns were dazzling.  However, the overwhelming compote induced a sensation verging at nauseating.


Adam und Eve, Gustav Klimt, 1917-18, Oberes Belvedere, Wien


Braut, Gustav Klimt, 1918, Oberes Belvedere, Wien

Judith, Gustav Klimt, 1901, Oberes Belvedere, Wien		Wasserschlangen, Gustav Klimt, 1904-07, Oberes Belvedere, Wien (public domain)

Kuss, Gustav Klimt, 1907-08, Oberes Belvedere, Wien

After Klimt, the symbol of sumptuousness and sensuality of Fin de siècle and Viennese Secession, Egon Schiele's paintings of expressionism school, collected by the same Oberes Belvedere, Wien, were nitty-gritty reality, viewed through a personal lens, with a man whose creative height coincided with the brutal World War I.  Even his quite becalming landscapes and townscapes had an unsettled feeling, and later in years, such as his 1917 Vier Bäume, a color scheme reminding viewers of bloodshed, despite and because of its undeniably beauty and certain nauseatingly sweetness.


Fensterwand (Hauswand), Egon Schiele, 1914, Oberes Belvedere, Wien


Vier Bäume, Egon Schiele, 1917, Oberes Belvedere, Wien

Move on to his figure paintings, one was flooded by the survey of resigned hopelessness, yearning desire for life and love in adversary, and utter despair.  Here were the manifests of tragedy of human race.


Mutter mit zwei Kindern III (Mutter III), Egon Schiele, 1915-17, Oberes Belvedere, Wien


Familie (Kauerndes Menschenpaar), Egon Schiele, 1918, Oberes Belvedere, Wien


Tod und Mädchen, Egon Schiele, 1915, Oberes Belvedere, Wien


Umarmung (Liebespaar II, Mann und Frau), Egon Schiele, 1917, Oberes Belvedere, Wien

Astonishingly, Leopold Museum provided even more comprehensive survey of Egon Schiele, along with a few canvases of Gustav Klimt.


Leopold Museu, Wien


Leopold Museu, Wien

The Klimt paintings in Leopold were early works, in the realism tradition, though not without the keen psychological observation in its portraits. 


Gustav Klimt, Leopold Museum, Wien


Gustav Klimt, Leopold Museum, Wien

Leopold Museum did have one of his later works, a masterpiece, Tod und Leben (Death and Life), which seemed combined the outlandish surface beauty of his own, and the depressing pessimism from his younger peer, Egon Schiele.


Tod und Leben, 1910, Gustav Klimt, Leopold Museum, Wien

However, no one could outdo Egon Schiele in the province of unmitigable sadness and despair, demonstrated by his seemingly innocent landscapes and townscapes, seductive femme fatales, and the most wrenching group portraits.  He became my new hero, who had an unflinching look at misery and death.

Speaking of death, a sad note was that both Klimt and Schiele died in 1918, of the great influenza after World War I. Death had never been far away from frivolity.


Leopold Museum, Wien


Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum, Wien


Der Häuserbogen II (,,Inselstadt''), 1915, Schiele, Leopold Museum


Kalvarienberg, 1912, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Versinkende Sonne, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


,,Rabenlandschaft'', 1911, Schiele, Wien 1900, Leopold Museum


Die Kleine Stadt II, 1912-13, Schiele, Wien 1900, Leopold Museum


Bildnis Wally Neuzil, 1912, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum, Wien


Bildnis Wally Neuzil, 1912, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum, Wien


Trauernde Frau, 1912, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Sitzender Männerakt (Selbstdarstellung), 1910, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum, Wien


,,Die Eremiten'', 1912, Egon Schiele, Leopold Mueum, Wien


Rückenansicht eines weiblichen Halbaktes mit Tuch (Fragment), 1913, Schiele


Rückenansicht eines weiblichen Halbaktes mit Tuch (Fragment) (details), 1913, Schiele


Blinde Mutter, 1914, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Mutter mit zwei Kindern II, 1915, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Drei stehende Frauen (Fragment), 1918, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Kardinal und Nonne, Egon Schiele, Leopold Museum


Liebssatt,  1915, Egon Schiele, Wien 1900, Leopold Museum


Related posts on Art · 文化 · Kunst: 
- Magnificent Churches in Vienna
- Naked Audience for Naked Men Exhibit at Leopold Museum, Vienna
- Angelic and Evil - Bunkerei and Palais Augarten in Augarten, Vienna

Label: Austria, Austria and Italy Trip 2012