Up Close with Van Gogh

Van Gogh is not everyone's favorite artist, though, from the long lines to see the 'Van Gogh Up Close' show at the Philadelphia Museum, you might think so. The wait (even with my member's ticket) gave me a chance to think about several things. First - the idea of 'favorite.' I certainly understand 'not favorite' - in fact, to be honest, I think the choice of Van Gogh as a favorite artist is a bit naive. But I've also heard 'I don't like Van Gogh.' That's harder to understand. What don't you like? His impeccable sense of color harmonies? His astounding inventiveness with line and composition? And, of course, there's his dramatic, heart-wrenching life story. I can't imagine not 'liking' Van Gogh - he's too earnest and eager to please, like a child, albeit one who was supremely gifted and very brave. The PMA exhibit is titled 'Up Close' because it focuses on his attention to nature, including still lifes and studies of flowers and plants. The title is a bit misleading. There are plenty of broader landscapes as well, just not much in the way of portraits or people. Like many exhibits the organization is by date, earlier to late, but with Van Gogh that isn't terribly significant because almost all of his great works erupted from him in the last three to five years of his life. Even so, the progression is interesting - a few floral studies, startlingly conventional, begin the journey. You can see him struggling to square the set images in his mind - traditional Dutch still life paintings of big bouquets in vases, centered in a darkened space - with new ideas from the Impressionists he'd just met in Paris. If he'd stopped with the ones on view no one would know his name. Within a year or two he'd burst through and reinvented the idiom - the glowing golden 'Twelve Sunflowers in a Vase' is a stunning testament. Also at the beginning is the small canvas with a pair of used boots he bought at a flea market (and wore), included as an example of his 'study' approach and also for his particular way of putting animas into inanimate objects, turning everything into a self-portrait. And for Van Gogh everything really is a self-portrait; his tender-hearted, vulnerable life trails across canvases and boards in streaks of color. I have a particular love of Van Gogh's vocabulary of line, one of the most extraordinary, extensive expressions of mark-making of any artist or period. In paintings like Vineyards at Auvers and Tree Trunks in the Grass, you see him stroking, slashing, dotting, dragging, squiggling, chopping and wisping his color onto the surface, weaving an endlessly inventive visual fabric. One of the most moving paintings in the show is Landscape with Plowed Field, a serene scene of man and nature working together to produce a world of order; a huge sun, a close cousin to the moon in Starry Night, hovers like a benevolent god over neatly plowed fields, a tidy stone fence, and a pleasing range of moderate hills. But, cutting across the lower third, a rough messy diagonal upsets the calm - it turns out to be the path trod by Van Gogh's fellow inmates in the asylum at St. Remy - the view is out through the bars of his room. Another thought as I waited in line - Van Gogh would have loved this show, the crowds, the gift shop with all the sunflower tchotchkes - if you read his letters (very recommended, especially if you think he was just a looney as some people seem to - he was a lucid, intelligent, articulate writer with a deep knowledge of art) you find that his mission in life was to do something good for people, something that would make a difference in their lives. He may not have seen much success or money while he was alive, but he sure accomplished that.

http://www.philamuseum.org/exhibitions/743.html

In Tribute: The Philadelphia Orchestra

This post is in tribute to the extraordinary Philadelphia Orchestra, after yet another wondrous concert. The Philadelphia Orchestra, 112 years old and among the very finest in the world, has been treated very shabbily lately by its administration - shameful for a city with such a rich past and present in the performing arts. I know I speak for many when I offer applause for all the brilliant, hard-working musicians in the Orchestra and gratitude for their music. Last night's concert featured Emanuel Ax as soloist - he was charming and amazing but so were the regulars, many of whom are more than solo capable. Solo performers have always gotten the glory, but while it's great to have stars, without a good back up team they don't go far. Edgar Degas was, to my knowledge, the first to honor the 'back-up teams' in art. Influenced by the recent development of photography and by the asymmetrical, informal compositions of Japanese print makers, Degas created scene after scene of dancers and musicians before, after and during performances, and never from the viewpoint of audience to direct center stage. The spotlight is never on the star performer; in Degas's musical world, we are with the dancers backstage, in endless classes and with the musicians, fresh from countless hours of practice, in the pit. We lean over their shoulders reading the music on the stand, we hear the bassoonist huffing gently as the music emerges, feel the strength of the arm running the bow so

Photo by Chris Lee

skillfully and lightly on the strings. The dancers, delicate from a distance in their pastel tufted costumes, throw off sweat as they spin past, or sit next to us stretching their weary muscled backs and legs before the next demanding call. Please leave a comment in support of the Philadelphia Orchestra and as thanks for all highly skilled, hard-working, under-praised performers everywhere.

Modern Spirit: Henry Ossawa Tanner

Sometimes it takes a while to catch up with the obvious. When there are obstacles like race and gender it usually takes even longer. Henry Ossawa Tanner, (African) American artist, is having one of those catch-up moments at his alma mater, The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, with the retrospective Henry Ossawa Tanner: Modern Spirit. PAFA, founded in 1802 and located in the heart of Tanner's home town of Philadelphia, is this country's first art school. The school is still going strong, with a vigorous program much abetted by the Academy's important collection, housed in a landmark building by visionary architect Frank Furness. (PAFA made the news recently when the latest of Claes Oldenbug's public sculptures, Paint Torch, was installed there.) There's a lot to say about Tanner's back story - born to a former slave, forced to spend his productive mature years abroad to escape the toxic racism that plagued - still plagues - this country - but out of respect to an artist who deserves to be seen for his work alone, I want to concentrate on the art. A little background: Tanner entered PAFA in 1879 and quickly distinguished himself. A precocious, diligent student with a gift for drawing, he enjoyed the special patronage of Thomas Eakins, the legendary teacher/artist and director during Tanner's years there. Once out in the world he tried to make a living as an artist, with some success, but as for so many other African-American intellectuals and artists other countries offered better opportunities; Tanner moved to Paris in 1891. He made a successful, clearly satisfying life in France, establishing himself as a 'modern' painter known for religious subjects. Religion must have been a natural direction for him - his father was a bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) church. In fact, his best work, whether intentionally religious or not, glows with an ethereal light that conveys a transcendent spiritual aura. The Thankful Poor and The Banjo Lesson, two of Tanner's best known works (neither of them in the PAFA show) have that quicksilver kind of light that transforms the ordinary into something holy. I was surprised to realize, on seeing the show, that Tanner was in many respects a Symbolist. The late 19th century movement is a further explanation for his unearthly approach, but Tanner's work demonstrates a more grounded, sincere reason for his visions. (Picasso had a brief flirtation with Symbolism - a better known proponent was Edward Munch.) The Arch is a beautiful example of his transforming of solid reality, through light and color, into a metaphoric journey - another is But The Boat Was Now in The Middle of The Sea, a particularly fine sample of Tanner's accomplished brushwork and composition. His personal retellings of Bible stories can explain the 'modern' to contemporary audiences who might not recognize such an academic style as revolutionary in any way, but works like The Annunciation and The Sabot Maker put a whole new spin on old subjects. The Sabot Maker, in fact, may or may not be seen as religious, but a son working with his father in a wood-worker's shop.....? It seems too obvious not to be meant as a young Christ with St. Joseph. Financed by one of the Philadelphia Wanamakers, Tanner took a very important trip to Palestine, to the source of much of his inspiration. The paintings from there are supreme illustrations of an artist at the top of his form. His long experience and consummate skill with light make him an immediate master of the strong, hot sunlight on the ancient walls, and the ensuing paintings of Bible subjects seem even richer and more evocative. Back at home - in France - Tanner survived WWI - there are some sketches and small paintings from that clearly painful time in the show. One, of soldiers lined up in a mess tent, is quickly drawn but even that has an aura of something at once real and out of time. Tanner is certainly one of PAFA's most distinguished alumni - it's odd that they include David Lynch on their roster of 'famous graduates' but not Henry Ossawa Tanner. I hope they correct that.