Nicholas Fox Weber's Blog, page 29

The Sacred Modernist

The Sacred Modernist: Josef Albers as a Catholic Artist

To dis­trib­ute mate­r­ial pos­ses­sions is to divide them.

To dis­trib­ute spir­i­tual pos­ses­sions is to mul­ti­ply them.

Easy to know that dia­monds are pre­cious.

Good to know that rubies have depth.

But more to see that peb­bles are miraculous.

Josef Albers wrote these apho­risms, and then rewrote them fre­quently.

Some­times he scribed them by long­hand; on other occa­sions he pecked

them out with the man­ual type­writer he used to imprint texts on the thin

white tis­sue paper he pre­ferred heav­ier stock. That translu­cent, feather–weight paper, like the

flow­ing strokes of his foun­tain pen, had some of the same charm and ethe­re­al­ity as his art and

words: for all of his adamant prac­ti­cal­ity, Albers lived in a mys­ti­cal realm. He was rev­er­en­tial

about the mys­ter­ies and won­ders of exis­tence, the holi­ness he found in earthly life.

Words like “spir­i­tual” and “mirac­u­lous” were vital to him. The great Bauhaus-trained mod­ernist

was the quin­tes­sen­tial crafts­man, devoted to tech­ni­cal capability, rigorous in his stan­dards

con­cern­ing mate­ri­als and the way one worked, but he also was pro­foundly inter­ested in the

other-worldly. For his was a deeply reli­gious sensibility.

Albers was born and raised a Catholic. (His native West­phalia was then, as it remains, one of the

strongly Catholic regions of Germany, even if the coun­try had a Protes­tant major­ity.) At the end

of his life, when I knew him, he reg­u­larly attended Sun­day Mass, and went to con­fes­sion. Yet the

role of Chris­t­ian belief, the strong con­nec­tion to liturgy, the vital func­tion of the Trin­ity in his art,

has never before been explored.

The Sacred Mod­ernist: Josef Albers as a Catholic Artist presents this abstract artist’s work in a new

way. Hav­ing directed the Albers Foun­da­tion for nearly thirty-five years, and curated the major

ret­ro­spec­tive of Albers’s work held on the hun­dredth anniver­sary of his birth in 1988 at the

Guggen­heim Museum in New York and other venues, this show at the Glucks­man Gallery is a

project of great per­sonal impor­tance to me. For it presents the ambi­ent spir­i­tu­al­ism of his life’s work

in a way that has never before been con­sid­ered in any depth.

It empha­sizes in par­tic­u­lar the strong basis which Josef’s art has in Chris­t­ian tradition—not unlike the

under­pin­nings of work by artists like Giotto and Durer (two of Josef’s pre­ferred painters). It is also a

delib­er­ate way of link­ing Josef Albers’s art to Ireland, a place he and I often dis­cussed, even though

he had never been there.

The exhi­bi­tion will begin with Josef’s early draw­ings of coun­try churches as well as great cathe­drals,

rang­ing from bold lith­o­graphs of naves seen from within to vibrant sketches of steeples. It will also

include an early draw­ing of a Chris­t­ian grave­yard; Josef said that at the age of twelve he “painted

and let­tered crosses for grave mark­ers,” so the sub­ject was one he knew well. For the Glucks­man

exhi­bi­tion, the Josef and Anni Albers Foun­da­tion is repro­duc­ing the stained glass win­dow, Rosa

Mys­tica, which Josef made for St. Michael’s church, in his home­town; the orig­i­nal was destroyed

dur­ing World War II, but we have suf­fi­cient records of it, includ­ing Josef’s notes on col­ors, to make

an effec­tive fac­sim­ile, which we will do with a stained-glass spe­cial­ist in Ger­many. There will be an

ample amount of Josef’s splen­did glass assem­blages and flashed glass con­struc­tions, some with spe­cific

reli­gious imagery (the cru­ci­form shape), oth­ers with the more sub­tle sug­ges­tion, going back to Flem­ish art

and in par­tic­u­lar the paint­ings of Jan Van Eyck, that light pass­ing through glass is the per­fect metaphor

for the Immac­u­late Conception.

In his years at Black Moun­tain Col­lege, in the US, Albers did var­i­ous paint­ings with spe­cific reli­gious

themes, includ­ing abstrac­tions of crosses and other images that encap­su­late the essen­tial ele­ments of

tra­di­tional rep­re­sen­ta­tions of Annuni­ca­tions. He also made prints of Mex­i­can gods, and geo­met­ric

abstrac­tions with names like “Sanctuary”. At the same time, he took remark­able pho­tographs of angels

made from folded paper, church facades, and other clearly reli­gious sub­ject mat­ter. And he designed

fan­tas­ti­cally imag­i­na­tive Christ­mas cards. All will be fea­tured in this exhibition.

Finally, there will be a judi­cious selec­tion of Homage to the Square paint­ings. The choice will be made

with an eye to those with the most dis­tinctly cos­mic, alchem­i­cal attributes.

 

 

 

press release

Josef Albers: Spirituality and Rigor

Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria, Perugia

20 March -  20 June 2013

Press view: 19 March, 12am

Further information and pictures: www.studioesseci.net

Press release

From 20 March to 20 June the Monuments and Fine Arts Office of Umbria, in conjunction with the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation,

presents the first monographic exhibition on the sacred art of Josef Albers.

The exhibition, curated by Nicholas Fox Weber, Executive Director of the Albers Foundation, and Fabio De Chirico, Head of the

Monuments and Fine Arts Office and Director of the Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria, celebrates the 125th anniversary of the birth

of the great German-born American artist (Bottrop, 19 March 1888).

For the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation the exhibition is also a homage to Josef Ratzinger, Emeritus Pope of the Catholic Church,

a figure who embodies the values of “Spirituality and Rigor” referred to in the title of the exhibition.

Albers always lived in a powerfully mystical realm. Words like “spiritual” and “miraculous” were vital to him.

The great Bauhaus-trained artist was the quintessential craftsman, devoted to technical capacity, rigorous in his standards with

regard to materials and their use. At the same time he was also profoundly interested in the other-worldly, deeply immersed in

the transcendental and intensely religious. Which explains the title of the present exhibition: Spirituality and Rigor.

Born and brought up in Westphalia, one of the most strongly Catholic regions of Germany, Albers remained a devout Catholic

throughout his life.

This is the first exhibition to explore fully his sacred art, influenced both by his religious education and by his admiration for the

great masters of Christian art and architecture, especially Giotto and Dὓrer.

It brings together works from all the phases of his career, beginning with his first sketches of country churches and cathedrals,

his bold lithographs of naves and his vibrant sketches of steeples. It also includes one of his first drawings, depicting a Christian

graveyard, a subject he knew well, since at the age of twelve he was already painting crosses for grave markers in his hometown.

It ends with a selection of his later geometrical and abstract works.

The Perugia exhibition also features a reconstruction of the stained-glass window, Rosa Mystica, which Albers designed for the

St. Michael’s Church in Bottrop, and which was destroyed during the Second World War. Thanks to a careful study of archive

materials at the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation, in this exhibition the Lewis Glucksman Gallery presents for the first time a

full-scale reconstruction of Albers’ design.

Albers worked extensively with glass assemblages and constructions, used to explore the traditional themes of religious iconography,

such as the Cross, strongly influenced by Flemish art, and in particular by Jan van Eyck, as the works in the exhibition clearly show.

In his years at Black Mountain College, in the United States, Albers did various paintings with religious themes: abstractions of crosses

and other images that encapsulate the essential elements of traditional representations of the Annunciation.

His interest in the religious sphere also led him to make prints of Mexican gods, to create graphic abstractions with names like

Sanctuary, to take photographs of angels made from folded paper, churches or other places of worship, and to design extremely

original Christmas cards.

Finally, the exhibition presents the famous Homage to the Square series, drawings and paintings with a distinctly cosmic, alchemical

character from the final phase of his career as an artist.

The exhibition is accompanied by an illustrated catalogue, in Italian and English, curated by Nicholas Fox Weber and Fabio De Chirico,

with contributions by Julie Agoos, Oliver Barker, Leland del la Durantaye, Mark Patrick Hederman, Fiona  Kearney and Colm Toibin.

The catalogue is distributed by the Glucksman Gallery.

The exhibition and catalogue have been made possible by the generous support of the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation.

Perugia, Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria

Opening hours: from 10.30 to 19.30

Telephone: + 39 075 58668415

www.gallerianazionaledellumbria.it

www.artiumbria.beniculturali.it

Press Office:

Studio ESSECI – Sergio Campagnolo. Telephone. +39 049 663499; info@studioesseci.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

letter from nfw

 

Letter From NFW to the Organizers of MATISSE, LA COULEUR DÉCOUPÉE,

Musée Matisse, le Cateau-Cambrésis

 

 

March 10, 2013

 

Dear Carrie, Patrice, and Dominique,

Please feel free to pass this email on to anyone you would like. And I would be grateful if you would forward it to

both Jacqueline and George, since I do not have their email addresses.

I cannot emphasize it enough: the exhibition you have put together and which opened yesterday is one of the

greatest artistic events of all time.

I think it is safe to say that I have gone to every major Matisse exhibition to which I had access since I first obtained

my driving license in 1964. (It must have been shortly thereafter that I drove from West Hartford, Connecticut to Boston

for a show at the MFA, having invited a girl I was trying to impress to join me for the day’s outing; alas, her main reaction

was to say that she considered “Woman with a Hat” to be “most unattractive looking”.) I have visited the chapel in

Vence on multiple occasions, always utterly wonderful. I have spent many fantastic hours in the galleries of your

permanent collection, always thrilled. But never have I seen anything like your current show.

I walked through it time and again; especially after lunch, it was relatively quiet in the galleries, and just a splendid

chance to take it all in. Today I cannot stop seeing in my mind’s eye those incredible forms dancing all over the place.

The generosity of the Matisse family is of course utterly exemplary for an artist’s estate. They have succeeded, thanks in

large part to your amazing museum, in making the work of one of the greatest artists of all time available to the larger

public. And what you have done with those cut-outs, and in bringing together the other work that is in the current

exhibition, contributes immeasurably to human pleasure.

The show is simply unlike anything else I have ever seen (including the amazing galleries of cut-outs with which various

Matisse shows, notably at MoMA and Tate, have concluded.) It has an intimacy. It takes one to a place one has never

been before. Even to someone who since the age of four had the shapes of the “Mimosa” rug in his lifeblood, this is new,

the vibrancy off the charts, although part of what makes it so wonderful for me (as it would for my sister, if I can get her

to the show) is the way that everywhere I felt the echoes of a particular form of joy I have known ever since my parents

spent $100 for that object they hung in their front hall to the bemusement of most people who entered the house.

Every collage has such force. And there were single cut-outs that made me gasp and talk out loud.

And the point you made about Matisse’s use of color as a means of articulation is something I feel Josef Albers would

have understood in spades. It comes alive in new ways in this material.

I am eager for so many people to get to the exhibition. Gill talked about Nick Serota seeing it (he would love it); I hope

he will. And John Elderfield. And every possible critic, and everyone who likes great, energetic, imaginative, courageous

art. I assume you have notified the various people who should be there, but please let me know if I might help in any way.

I woke up this morning thinking about the exhibition and also remembering going inside Le Corbusier’s amazing Assembly

building in Chandigarh. There, too, I felt as if I had been injected with a magic potion, and as if I were inside a human

heart, and witnessing a stretch of imagination without precedent or equal. Then I thought about what le Corbusier wrote

Matisse in August of 1951, after he made the 45-minute drive to Vence from his summer retreat, a bare-bones cabin in

Roquebrune-Cap-Martin. Corbu clearly did not know that after Pere Couturier has proposed that Corbu be the architect

of the chapel. Matisse had refused; he chose Auguste Perret instead, claiming, “He’ll do as I say”– which Matisse clearly

knew would not have been the case with Corbu.)

Corbu wrote Matisse,

“I visited the chapel at Vence. Everything there is joy, limpidity, youth… Your work has given me an impulse of courage–

not that I am lacking in that department, but at Vence I renewed my supply. That little chapel is a great testimonial–

of truth. Because of you, once again, life is beautiful. Thank you.”

Your show has, in a similar yet entirely different way, those same qualities of joy, youth, truth, and beauty. And, by the

way, the day you organized yesterday, and the people were there, had the qualities of warmth and pleasantness and

openness and generosity, all so rarecin life, that suited the exhibition to a “t”. Like Corbu to Matisse, I am signing off by

saying, “Because of you, once again, life is beautiful. Thank you.”

In admiration –

Nicholas

LETTER FROM NFW

 

Letter From NFW to the Organizers of MATISSE, LA COULEUR DÉCOUPÉE,

Musée Matisse, le Cateau-Cambrésis
 

 

March 10, 2013

 

Dear Carrie, Patrice, and Dominique,

Please feel free to pass this email on to anyone you would like. And I would be grateful if you would forward it to

both Jacqueline and George, since I do not have their email addresses.

I cannot emphasize it enough: the exhibition you have put together and which opened yesterday is one of the

greatest artistic events of all time.

I think it is safe to say that I have gone to every major Matisse exhibition to which I had access since I first obtained

my driving license in 1964. (It must have been shortly thereafter that I drove from West Hartford, Connecticut to Boston

for a show at the MFA, having invited a girl I was trying to impress to join me for the day’s outing; alas, her main reaction

was to say that she considered “Woman with a Hat” to be “most unattractive looking”.) I have visited the chapel in

Vence on multiple occasions, always utterly wonderful. I have spent many fantastic hours in the galleries of your

permanent collection, always thrilled. But never have I seen anything like your current show.

I walked through it time and again; especially after lunch, it was relatively quiet in the galleries, and just a splendid

chance to take it all in. Today I cannot stop seeing in my mind’s eye those incredible forms dancing all over the place.

The generosity of the Matisse family is of course utterly exemplary for an artist’s estate. They have succeeded, thanks in

large part to your amazing museum, in making the work of one of the greatest artists of all time available to the larger

public. And what you have done with those cut-outs, and in bringing together the other work that is in the current

exhibition, contributes immeasurably to human pleasure.

The show is simply unlike anything else I have ever seen (including the amazing galleries of cut-outs with which various

Matisse shows, notably at MoMA and Tate, have concluded.) It has an intimacy. It takes one to a place one has never

been before. Even to someone who since the age of four had the shapes of the “Mimosa” rug in his lifeblood, this is new,

the vibrancy off the charts, although part of what makes it so wonderful for me (as it would for my sister, if I can get her

to the show) is the way that everywhere I felt the echoes of a particular form of joy I have known ever since my parents

spent $100 for that object they hung in their front hall to the bemusement of most people who entered the house.

Every collage has such force. And there were single cut-outs that made me gasp and talk out loud.

And the point you made about Matisse’s use of color as a means of articulation is something I feel Josef Albers would

have understood in spades. It comes alive in new ways in this material.

I am eager for so many people to get to the exhibition. Gill talked about Nick Serota seeing it (he would love it); I hope

he will. And John Elderfield. And every possible critic, and everyone who likes great, energetic, imaginative, courageous

art. I assume you have notified the various people who should be there, but please let me know if I might help in any way.

I woke up this morning thinking about the exhibition and also remembering going inside Le Corbusier’s amazing Assembly

building in Chandigarh. There, too, I felt as if I had been injected with a magic potion, and as if I were inside a human

heart, and witnessing a stretch of imagination without precedent or equal. Then I thought about what le Corbusier wrote

Matisse in August of 1951, after he made the 45-minute drive to Vence from his summer retreat, a bare-bones cabin in

Roquebrune-Cap-Martin. Corbu clearly did not know that after Pere Couturier has proposed that Corbu be the architect

of the chapel. Matisse had refused; he chose Auguste Perret instead, claiming, “He’ll do as I say”– which Matisse clearly

knew would not have been the case with Corbu.)

Corbu wrote Matisse,

“I visited the chapel at Vence. Everything there is joy, limpidity, youth… Your work has given me an impulse of courage–

not that I am lacking in that department, but at Vence I renewed my supply. That little chapel is a great testimonial–

of truth. Because of you, once again, life is beautiful. Thank you.”

Your show has, in a similar yet entirely different way, those same qualities of joy, youth, truth, and beauty. And, by the

way, the day you organized yesterday, and the people were there, had the qualities of warmth and pleasantness and

openness and generosity, all so rarecin life, that suited the exhibition to a “t”. Like Corbu to Matisse, I am signing off by

saying, “Because of you, once again, life is beautiful. Thank you.”

In admiration –

Nicholas

Josef Albers Spirituality and Rigor

Josef Albers Spirituality and Rigor

The Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria and the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation present a

new exhibition - Josef Albers Spirituality and Rigor — opening Tuesday 19 March 2013 at

6PM (the 125th anniversary of Josef Albers birth) Perugia, Italy

info@albersfoundation.org

Klee and Kandinsky posing as Goethe and Schiller

Klee and Kandinsky took no little pleasure in the great

legacy of “the German Athens”

The Bauhaus Group Six Masters of Modernism

Franz Marc

Franz Marc, 1880 –1916 

Der Blaue Reiter (The Blue Rider)

With Franz Marc and Alexy Jawlensky,

two other highly competent artists who

painted bold forms in vibrant colors, Klee

and Kandinsky created Der Blau Reiter

(The Blue Rider Group)

 

THE BALTHUS ENIGMA — The New Yorker

  From the New Yorker

INVESTIGATIONS about the painter Balthus, Balthasar Klossowski… He was

born February 29, 1908… Writer tells about calling Balthus in Switzerland in

1990, and fixed a date for a visit… Three weeks later, he arrived at

Le Grand Chalet, which was built between 1752 and 1756, and contains

forty-five rooms… Balthus and his wife Setsuko bought it in the late seventies…

Describes the opulent setting… His art, he maintained, had been misunderstood:

it was neither graphic nor mysterious. Above all, it was not autobiographical…

Balthus is one of the great loners of twentieth-century art; he belongs to no school, no “ism,” but his own.

Read more: http://www.newyorker.com/archive/1999/09/06/1999_09_06_034_TNY_LIBRY_000018986#ixzz2MuDSHPSR

Kandinsky Paintings

Kandinsky’s paintings of the period have elements of the marvelous Italian cornmeal. The word “synaesthetic” was key; the Russian

invented it to describe the commingling of the various senses that was one of his artistic goals. The soft explosions of polenta cooking,

the repetitive popping noise, conjured a realm that increasingly obsessed him: the sonic effects of visual experience. Beyond that,

the abstract forms that appear to be in continuous motion — growing, bursting, and condensing — are like polenta when it is being

cooked, with the delicate grains absorbing water and air and transmogrifying. Inevitably, too, Kandinsky’s oils and watercolors have

a sphere of the same vibrant yellow that the painter admired in the cornmeal, which evokes a spiritual force.

Improvisation XIV, 1910

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