Cloister 03

Cloister 02

Cloister 01

The Passion of Spain

Our Sunday started from a late brunch and then a long walk in the Central Park. Then, tired, we decided to go to Guggenheim Museum for a short break. Then, we encountered this wonderful new exhibition, “Spanish Paining from El Greco to Picasso: Time, Truth and History”. The exhibition occupies the main gallery space of the Guggenheim and becomes a hot show in town in the past two months.

From the introduction of the Museum, “Spanish Painting from El Greco to Picasso: Time, Truth, and History brings together for the first time works by the great Spanish masters of the 16th through the 20th centuries: Francisco de Zurbarán, Diego Velázquez, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Francisco de Goya, Juan Gris, Salvador Dalí, Joan Miró, and many others, as well as El Greco and Pablo Picasso. Unlike other overviews that display paintings in a strictly chronological order, this exhibition is broken into fifteen distinct sections, each based on a theme running through the past five centuries of Spanish culture. These thematic axes highlight affinities between the art of the old masters and that of the modern era, and challenge conventional art histories that would seek to separate them. Accordingly, works from different periods appear side by side within each section, offering often radical juxtapositions that cut across time to reveal the overwhelming coherence of the Spanish tradition.

Until recently art historians bracketed Spanish painting between El Greco and Goya, maintaining that 20th-century avant-garde movements such as Cubism and Surrealism—both of which were pioneered by artists of Spanish origin—broke completely with the traditions that preceded them. Today we have sufficient historical perspective to see that, despite their revolutionary aesthetic leaps, the great artists of the early twentieth century were nourished by traditional models that were, furthermore, local in character. These models found their source in the Spanish School of the late-16th and 17th centuries, an era commonly regarded as the Golden Age of Spanish painting. The aesthetic styles developed during these years—from the visionary opulence of El Greco to the intimate naturalism of Velázquez—dominated artistic production in Spain throughout the following two-and-a-half centuries, as the nation's imperial power declined and Spain became increasingly isolated internationally. Even Goya, arguably the greatest Spanish painter of the 19th century, could break free from his forerunners only by looking them square in the eye; as the French romantic poet Théophile Gautier observed, "In his desire for artistic innovation, Goya found himself confronted by the old Spain."

By the late 19th century, following Goya and the spirit of romanticism, a national critical conscience had awoken in Spain's artists and intellectuals, but the country's antiquated political, social, and economic structures largely thwarted this modernizing impulse. This began a long period of exile or simple emigration, which marked the careers of all the 20th-century masters exhibited here. During this time many stereotypical treatments of recurring subjects that had formed in the wake of Spain's Golden Age were cast in a new light, as Europe rediscovered the art of the Spanish School and began to write its history for the first time. Chief among these characteristics was Spain's resolute anticlassicism, which was reflected in its timeless customs, its culture, and its art, and which came to be seen as a source of resistance to the overwhelming homogeneity associated with an industrialized, modern world. Thus as Spanish artists stigmatized the ideological clichés of traditional Spain, they also realized that formal innovation could only come if these same aesthetic values were brought up to date.

It is this endless return and reappropriation on a formal and iconographic level that binds together the works of Spanish artists, from Picasso, reaching back through Goya, to the masters of the Golden Age. These connections become especially apparent in particular themes of subject matter, whether established genres, such as still life, landscape, or portraiture, or apparently simple depictions of children, nudes, crucifixions, or domestic scenes. Each of these themes originates in the culture of 16th-century Spain, which was especially influenced by the Counter-Reformation, during which the Catholic Church reaffirmed its dogma, structure, and social role in response to the burgeoning threat of Protestantism. Despite this foundation in the past, the themes play out over the ensuing centuries, setting the basic terms for Spanish painting even as historical contexts and stylistic tendencies change dramatically.”

I think the most interesting part of the exhibition is the idea of uninterrupted history of Spanish paining in history and re-make the connection between Spanish masters in the past couple of centuries. This idea of connection gives a new interpretation of the more recent artists, such as Picasso, Miro and Dali, and put them back to the sequential development of Spanish painting. They are not totally unique creators, but rather successful artists who revived their long tradition in paining. In this sense, the line between past and present becomes blurred and redefined. I only feel regret that the exhibition stops at Picasso and does not make effort to introduce more recent artists from Spain. This raises two questions: first, does the connection between the old and new artists only true for artists up to Picasso? Second, nothing important has been created since Picasso by Spanish artists? In this sense, the exhibition opens more questions than it answers.

Cloister

I waited my friend to come at home and found waiting was really a boring thing to do. Thus, I decided to finish my long planned trip to Cloister. It took about 20 minutes for the M4 bus to come and another 1 hour to Fort Bryan Park at the northern end of the island of Manhattan. It was an incredibly warm day in early January and the temperature rose to 56 F (22C). People felt confused and excited by the atypical weather and all came out for some outdoor fun. The streets were full of dogs, people and their kids. Two sides of the Broadway were full of stores with Spanish names which made you think you were traveling in a Latin American small town. Most shops are local groceries, dinners/delis, and many of them had signs such as “Envio Dinero” (transfer money). The immigrants from Spanish speaking countries usually rely on those organizations to send their remittance back to home, because their illegal status in US and failed to open regular bank account in American Banks. “Como Enviar Dinero via Western Union”! Believe me, your life is better of if you speak Spanish here in New York.

According to the introduction at Met’s website, “The Cloisters—described by Germain Bazin, former director of the Musée du Louvre in Paris, as "the crowning achievement of American museology"—is the branch of the Metropolitan Museum devoted to the art and architecture of medieval Europe. Located on four acres overlooking the Hudson River in northern Manhattan's Fort Tryon Park, the building incorporates elements from five medieval French cloisters—quadrangles enclosed by a roofed or vaulted passageway, or arcade—and from other monastic sites in southern France. Three of the cloisters reconstructed at the branch museum feature gardens planted according to horticultural information found in medieval treatises and poetry, garden documents and herbals, and medieval works of art, such as tapestries, stained-glass windows, and column capitals. Approximately five thousand works of art from medieval Europe, dating from about A.D. 800 with particular emphasis on the twelfth through fifteenth century, are exhibited in this unique and sympathetic context. The collection at The Cloisters is complemented by more than six thousand objects exhibited in several galleries on the first floor of the Museum's main building on Fifth Avenue. A single curatorial department oversees medieval holdings at both locations. The collection at the main building displays a somewhat broader geographical and temporal range, while the focus at The Cloisters is on the Romanesque and Gothic periods. Renowned for its architectural sculpture, The Cloisters also rewards visitors with exquisite illuminated manuscripts, stained glass, metalwork, enamels, ivories, and tapestries”.

The building of the Cloister itself has a transcendent power. The five embedded churches take one going through the journey of thousand of miles in a tour of couple hours, meanwhile it pertains the authenticity of religious feeling these architect intended to communicate. I like the way in which the audio tour was put up. The explanation usually starts with a piece of mediaeval music related to the region or specific religious destination of the church, and the music smoothes your mind and prepare you to enter into an rather ancient time. With the rhythm of the time, the narrator (usually the curator of this specific art work or period) outlines the function of the part of this architectural structure, such as a chapel, and then goes to the details about the life of monks and the religious meaning of their particular way of life. The art works we observe today are relics of people living in mediaeval time. In the sense, the audio tour intends to give you a sense of life then to help you to understand the historical and social background of the work.

In my recollection, the “Middle Ages” is a long and dark time period of human being. Nevertheless, a closer observation reveals a cultural cultivation of art and humanity. This period “between ancient and modern times in Western civilization, known as the Middle Ages, extends from the fourth to the early sixteenth century—that is, roughly from the Fall of Rome to the beginning of the Renaissance in Northern Europe”. The time frame includes the pre-Christian antecedents in Western Europe through the early Christian, Byzantine, Romanesque, and Gothic periods. The Cloisters intends to put all its collections into their historical environment and thus help the visitors to perceive and understand the art works as they were presented in history. Usually the developments of the architectural and painting or sculptural styles are intertwined together, rather than standing alone. From the functionalist’s point of view, many of the art works come to serve the needs of the architecture where they were presented. For instance, from the retreat of the Romanesque church to the rise of the Gothic church, the Stained Glass became a favorite form of art expression because the building itself asked for more light into the enormous space.

My favorite works are the famous seven tapestries depicting "The Hunt of the Unicorn” (ca. 1495–1505, South Netherlandish, Wool warp, wool, silk, silver, and gilt wefts; 12 ft. 1 in. x 14 ft. (368 x 251.5 cm), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gift of John D. Rockefeller Jr., 1937 (37.80.3)). Met Museum has dedicated a comprehensive website to this work (http://www.metmuseum.org/explore/Unicorn/unicorn_inside.htm). As early as the seventeenth century, the Unicorn Tapestries were documented as having been displayed as a group. Surely they were collected and exhibited together because together they illustrate the pursuit of the elusive unicorn so completely and in such astonishing detail, despite the likelihood that the seven individual hangings may come from two or more sets of tapestries. In Middle Ages, Unicorn represents charity and innocence and the meaning of this group of work is not totally clear even today. The story starts as the Unicorn uses its corn to purify a poisoned spring in the forest. Then the hunters approach and it runs and jumps across the river. It fights the dogs and hunters with its unicorn, but eventually is defeated and killed. In the last piece, the dead unicorn is presented to a young noble couple. In my eyes, the story tells the falling of the human innocence by the almighty external power. The unavailable fate of ruin only becomes trivial in the celebration of the fools who killed the unicorn.

The garden of the Cloister is unearthly beautiful. Overlooking the Hudson River from above, the garden is a fine collection of flowers and plants which are typically seen in churches of the mediaeval time, as you were visiting southern France back in time. The declining sunshine of the day makes the garden all the more amicable, because the shadows of the cloister begin to draw beautiful lines in the walls. The floating shadows moves in the wall, reminding you the different prayers in the Book of the Hours. I sat in the bench in Cloister for half an hour, just tried to relax, enjoyed watching the clouds and the shadow of the cloister columns. The overwhelming impression of the building and its splendid collections now turn into a sense of happiness, of being at the moment without pain. What do we ask from religion? For me, it is this moment of peace in mind.

Shadow of My Hand

Yesterday, in the famous Stained Glass Hall, I found the color of the light which passed through the stained glass changed into a murky cloud of warm yellow and blue. I captured the shadow of my left hand in the wall.

The picture has a strange feeling of beauty and it reflects the declying time and light of the day. The empty hand, attempting to grasp the non-existent light of being in vain, expressed the pursuite of innocence and charity at the turning point of the day. The murkey background symbolizes the floating world and its unconvinceable promises of youth and happiness. The contrast between the backgrand and the shadow play a perfect duet of being temporary and being eternal, being real and sureal.

Cloud in New York Sky today

This afternoon around 3:00pm. After we stepped out of Guggenheim Museum and walked toward Park Ave, I looked up and saw this unique pattern of clouds hanging in the sky.