Monday, July 27, 2009

Frank Lloyd Wright. From Within Outward. The Guggenheim Museum, NYC.

Architecture is often considered the highest of the fine art forms. It is the only fine art we are allowed and encouraged to touch: it is the only fine art form designed and built specifically for our living, working and playing in. Of all the many museums devoted to the various art forms it is only recently that museums have been opened devoted exclusively to architecture. The only one I’ve seen is that at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia which is also the repository for the work of Louis Kahn.

The concept of an architectural museum has inherent problems. Other than touring the actual architecture, there is very limited material that can illustrate architecture: there are plans, elevations, renderings (sketches), models, and photographs of built works. The drawings are in a somewhat universal language: most plans and elevations follow a specific discipline and can be read by engineers throughout the world. Each architectural office selects a specific style for the renderings that represent that office. Thus there is the Cesar Pelli and Associates sketch, the Louis Kahn and Associates sketch, and the Frank Lloyd Wright and Associates sketch. These are almost always the same regardless of which architect in the firm designed the project or which staff artist executed the sketch.

While that material might have a very strong appeal to those in the field, for the average museumgoer, those who cannot read plans, and most people cannot, and who might be perplexed by renderings, and most clients need them explained, most laymen will find little of sustainable interest in architectural museums.

The Frank Lloyd Wright exhibition at the Guggenheim is a good illustration of those problems not addressed. It is an exhibition with a wealth of material rarely seen by either the lay public or the professionals in the industry. I would think that this is an extraordinary experience for the professions and I am certain, having walked amongst them, that it is utterly perplexing to the general public. Despite the rarity of the material presented, the museum has done little to make it more understandable or interesting. The full range of Wright’s career is at hand …from his own home in Oak Park and the houses he designed there up to and including the Guggenheim museum. It is a vast record of over sixty years work. But the presentation, due to the limited variation of the professional work, is unrelieved. There are hundreds of plans, elevations, sections, isometric drawings and sketches. There are some photographs. There are six or seven models built specifically for this exhibition. But it is repeated seemingly ad infinitum up and down the spiraling ramp and in one long side gallery and without naming the more important works.

No mention is made that UNESCO has ten of these buildings under consideration for designation as World Heritage Sites for their architectural importance. No mention is made that many of these buildings have Interior Department Landmark Status. No mention is made that the American Association of Architects has declared a number of these buildings irreplaceable national treasures for their architectural excellence.

As presented this sameness all becomes exceedingly tedious. That tedium is the fault of the curators. It is almost as if the exhibition had been designed to insure that the well meaning but unenlightened visitors would drift by the art works at a pace sufficiently rapid to insure that the maximum number of visitors could be accommodated. Little about the work is explained in detail or from Wright’s aesthetic perspective. Much comment is made regarding the fact that Wright reconceptualized architectural space, but absolutely nothing has been done to “show” how he went about that. When I considered how many examples could have been used here, I was saddened to think that this first great retrospective of the work of America’s greatest artist is so woefully inadequate.


The most obvious example at hand is the museum building itself. Wright understood architecture as the perimeter between the external world and the space defined through the use of scale, proportion and geometry. From the outside that perimeter should inform viewers what they are likely to find on the inside. On the inside there must be an integral unity as foreshadowed by the exterior appearance. Wright called this organic architecture; it was American in that it was democratic. Wright understood the desire for democracy as originating in the heart and expressing itself in an outward flow. So he reconceptualized architectural space through the process of allowing the function of the structure to dictate the design and look of the whole. This museum is a brilliant articulation of that concept: no one seeing this form from the street would expect to find standard rectangular museum galleries on the inside.

Once the building function was determined and the plan created for the flow within the structure, Wright then determined the inherent organic design. For instance the Robie House in Chicago is composed, in plan, of two offset rectangles. An interplay of those two forms became the motif for the design elements throughout the house in the stained glass windows, the covers over the radiators, and in the light soffits. A contrasting form, the sliced section of a sphere, appears on the outside as urns for flowers on the low parapets and on the inside as lighting fixtures. In the Guggenheim Museum the circle of the plan of the building was repeated in the circles made in the terrazzo floors and on the sidewalks outside. Wright’s buildings always began outside the buildings with elements that formed a transition from the outside to the inside. (This exhibition does not tell us that either.)

Nor did the museum explain, although it did mention, his concept of compression and expansion whereby an entry space leads one into the building where one encounters that initial small space repeated on a greater scale. With the circles in the sidewalk, the canopy leading to the entry door, a revolving door, and a few steps veering to the right, one then enters into the open rotunda: a perfect example of this concept. I did not see any mention of this at all in the exhibition literature.

Most architects are known now not only for designing buildings but various of the components within the buildings. Sullivan, Wright’s “meister”, is as well known now for the ornamental pieces he designed for his buildings as he is for the buildings themselves. It is a rare architect in this day and age who is not known for also having designed a chair… the Eames chair, the Breuer chair, the Meis chair, and the Gehry chair. Had the dining table and chairs Wright designed for the Robie House been included (they are in the Smart Museum in Chicago), the public would have had the opportunity to see and study a Wright design first hand and they would have better understood the claim that he reconceptualized architectural space by pointing out that the high backs of the chairs created the sense of a living space within a living space in an otherwise open floor plan. (He created an intimate, small space within an open large space.) None of his furniture is presented nor was the space concept in any way elaborated.

Lacking that table and chairs, or any others of his chairs or furniture, or cast cement blocks used in his California houses, examples of his stained glass windows, or perhaps full scale models of his various architectural pieces…doors, windows, etc, etc, etc….Wright’s architecture is presented here in full two dimensional flatness. How odd that a museum would mount an exhibition of architecture, the most three dimensional and sculptural of the fine arts, and present it only as a repetition in flatness …and unrelievedly on tracing paper.

Other than the models the only three dimensional object is the curtain Wright designed for the theatre at the Wright Fellowship Theatre. Yet no mention is made that this abstract design referencing the Jones Valley farm country is very similar to the art produced at Germany’s Bauhaus; it almost seems Mondrian inspired whereas the reverse is true. (An early book of Wright’s work published in Germany in 1911 influenced Walter Gropius and lead to the creation of the Bauhaus.) In fact, no mention is made regarding Wright’s influence on subsequent world architecture at all…and it was and continues to be tremendous.

But what intrigued me more than anything else is that very little was said about Frank Lloyd Wright the person. Here it is all work and little about the man behind the work. I was curious if this was an effort to create a new perspective for the study of his work. There is a great literature of fact and fiction about him and it is believed that most of that fiction was a fiction, a legend, a mythology that he himself created. It is so sad to see his work and to find him missing: it is as if someone had chopped him off with an axe. I felt his absence very strongly.

Just inside the entry door to the museum there is a medallion placed in the floor which states that this building designed by Frank Lloyd Wright is a gift from Solomon Guggenheim. There is a motto on the circumference and at the bottom Greek letters that when pronounced reveal the author as Aristophanes. That medallion, giving top billing to Mr. Wright, symbolizes the character of this venue: it is known primarily as Wright’s great, last masterpiece. It is a fine art museum but little of the art here is very interesting on its own and certainly not as interesting as the building, one of the greatest artistic achievements of the twentieth century.

This 50th anniversary Wright exhibition is a first and has been mounted perhaps under the assumption that it might have been a very long wait but that very, very late is better than never at all. As I have said earlier, there is a wealth of material here but I walked away from it thinking that something better could have been done: we have been given recipes but not the banquet. Over and over again I was sorry they had not asked me to curate it. I have never thought of myself as a museum curator but this left me with the confidence that I could have done better. Certainly Mr. Wright deserves better.

The link below will access the Guggenheim web site. There is a brief video about the making of the models for the exhibition. The model of the Jacobs House is excellent: it is made in layers, hanging on wires, representing the order in which the building was erected. Otherwise note in the voice-over commentary that many of the Wright buzz words are uttered: reconceptualized space, landscape and the relationship of architecture to landscape, form follows functions, etc. The astute listener will notice that while these buzz words are voiced, no effort is made to explain them. I would think the layman would walk away from this exhibition having learned nothing more about this work than he knew coming in. This exhibition could have been the impetus for a revival of interest in Wright’s work and a source for greater understanding on the part of the layman as to why Wright is held in such high esteem by his professional peers. Instead, for the layman, and for our cultural enlightenment in general, it is a real missed opportunity.

http://www.guggenheim.org/new-york/exhibitions/on-view-now/frank-lloyd-wright

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Avedon Fashion 1944-2000. International Center for Photography, NYC

Of all the photographers whose work I’ve seen in the last year or so, and I have made a concerted effort to see as many of the classic exemplars as I could, Richard Avedon is the only one I have actually met. For many years I worked in the film industry with a man who had been Richard’s assistant in the fifties and into the sixties. When Richard went to Paris to act as the advisor on the film Funny Face, with Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn, my friend Frank accompanied him. He also had many stories to tell about the classic Marilyn Monroe shoot featured in Life Magazine in which she portrayed the legends of early Hollywood. When two of Avedon’s books were printed in Switzerland, Frank went over to supervise the printing. Thus one day, circa 1986, as we were working he told me that Richard was shooting a commercial in the studio next to ours and he asked if I would like to go over with him to say hello. Usually I am shy but I thought: “What the hell. Why not”.

Working in the film industry as I did for some thirty years, one meets his share of prima donna directors and hot shot here today and gone tomorrow photographers. I am happy to report that Richard Avedon was neither of the above. The man I met was encountering his old and dear friend; his social/professional persona was minimized. I was able to observe a man who was brimming with delight, energetic, somewhat humble, and emotionally honest. In this retrospective exhibition I can sense the same man behind these works.

What is remarkable in these photographs is that each of them was made on assignment …photograph this dress, these shoes, that hairdo, this scarf…and each of them bristles with a life far more energetic than that of the slaves to fashion for whom they were made. In every one of them Avedon has been creative, intelligent, and playful and has produced a result that is unique.

It appears that he often worked with the same models for periods of time ...Dovima, Dorian, Suzy Parker, Sonny Hanett, Elise Daniels. Rather than use them as soulless mannequins he has allowed the personality of each of them to contribute to and color the work. As a result these photographs are not so much about a specific article of apparel but of a way of life. The women who read those fashion magazines, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, etc. no doubt wanted not so much the clothing but to live that way of life, those rapturous moments he created. However; they are so imbued with the personality of the photographer I wondered if perhaps the designers whose work was the raison d’ĂȘtre for the photographs might not have been just a little taken aback by his strong presence. But if the photographs sold dresses and promoted fame I suppose they remained silent and swallowed their objections.

There is a very strong sense in this work that for Avedon “the usual” would not do. He did not do what other photographers did and he rarely repeated himself, at least not as shown in the two hundred photographs in this exhibition. To realize that he was able to do that for 60 years is astonishing. It is evident that he conceptualized and directed each session. His appears to have been an endlessly flowing creativity.

Clearly he was a master of lighting. But that does not mean that the lighting is flawless. Often it is theatrical and it is glaringly obvious …but that is in keeping within the character of his work on the whole: he had a theatrical, dramatic side that he allowed to inspire spirited and humorous works. The settings were often location settings and there was no effort to hide the bizarre quality of the choices and the juxtaposition of the various elements or the artifice employed to complete the concept. I wondered many times while going through this exhibition if he had inspired Fellini or if Fellini had inspired him.

Having worked on many, many, many film locations I could see in these photograph that many hours of work went into making them: there is evidence of large arc lights, rain making machines, and fans, as well as all the props brought onto the set. I could see as well that there were many hours spent making the photographs in the darkroom …the dodging and burning and cropping; these are not Ansel Adams’ “found” photographs or Bresson’s decisive moments but created experiences. Perhaps what is most astounding is that they read as visual experiences: often I forgot that I was looking at photographs!

It is a remarkable creativity and vision…

Dovima, in Paris, dressed to kill, standing between two elephants.

A beautiful socialite, from the waist up, looking quietly into the camera, her hair, by Kenneth, in wild abandon. She is nude.

A curve of a woman’s calf, her ankle, the extension of her foot, and a magnificent shoe.

In a very decrepit old house, the paint blistered and peeling, the plaster in chunks on the floor, the model communes with “A person unknown”, a skeleton who wears the dress. (These are among the few color photographs in this exhibit and the limited palette of very greyed colors is wonderful.) Rather than macabre these are extremely whimsical.

Also in color a young couple, both nude. He kneels on the floor resting on his calves; she kneels in the same pose, facing him, resting on his thighs. They embrace. Both their heads are covered by a really beautiful Italian silk scarf that a large fan has blown into a maelstrom like an escaped sail on a sail boat.

A very thin woman stands in profile to the camera in a very tight dress. You suddenly realize that her leg nearest the camera has the foot turned toe-on to the camera. I tried to recreate that pose as I stood there. I could not do it!

Often a photograph is animated by the splayed fingers of a hand, or an extended arm or leg, or a head tipped askew.

I do not recall seeing that credit was given to whoever had made these mostly large prints. They are, of course, flawless. There are some 8 by 10 prints each stamped as being the approved print to be used for the lithographs that were to be printed in the magazines. Each of those is signed by Richard Avedon; I believe indicating his approval rather than his having made the print.

There are also copies of the various magazines showing the work as the public first saw it. Considering how they are placed on the pages, that the cropping is sometimes very different, one cannot see the art in these photographs except in these gallery prints.

The Center is a surprisingly small space for a New York City arts venue. There are two moderately sized and one small gallery on the street level and galleries in the same square footage area one floor down. The lighting is excellent: pin spots from high overhead on a very oblique angle illuminate each photograph. Shutters mask the light off the walls. There are no distracting reflections. It is possible to stand twelve inches from the works before your head casts shadows on them. That alone prompts you to step back: the ideal aesthetic distance is established by the lighting. One of the rooms on the main floor has dark walls. On first entering that space the photographs appear to be back-lit transparencies. The black and white contrasts are extremely crisp. Excellent.

I can think of some museums that would be well advised to study the lighting in this installation. I won’t mention names but you will come across them if you scroll down though some of my earlier entries.

In the New York advertising business and in the fashion world the word “Great” is greatly overused. I try to use it only when appropriate. Richard Avedon. A+. Good show! In fact, Great!

http://www.icp.org/

http://www.richardavedon.com/