Showing posts with label classical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classical. Show all posts

Laocoön contained

Eva Hesse - Laocoön, 1966
Plastic tubing, rope, wire, papier-mâché, cloth, paint
130 x 23 1/4 x 23 1/4 in. (330.2 x 59 x 59 cm)

I really enjoyed reading Vaughan's last post about the Hellenistic Laocoön. I loved the brilliant description of its formal properties and it occurred to me that the work is a superb example of an artist (or artists and restorers, in this case) struggling with the contradiction between static mass and dynamic movement that is a feature of much sculpture.

This particular sculpture had a profound influence on Michelangelo, for example. The discovery in the early 16th century of this marble version of what may have been a bronze original prompted an archaeological as well as artistic response. Arms were missing and a debate raged about the correct position of the "restored" limbs. Eventually Michelangelo's interpretation proved to be the most sensible but it was not until the 20th century that the current composition was finally achieved. Rather than being carved from a single block of marble, it appears that the work is made of eight separate sections pieced together like a giant 3D jigsaw.

I was intrigued to discover a more recent response to Laocoön in the form of the sculpture illustrated above by Eva Hesse. It seems that some of the contradictions in the 'original' are further explored by Hesse in this work. A grid-like armature appears to support a tangle of looping forms that weave in and out like limp spaghetti. There is none of the multi-directional energy of the marble sculpture. Gravity causes the drooping forms to sag and bend. Even the tower has been softened by the addition of papier-mâché to the plastic tubing. What is the artist saying about her attitude to the famous tragic priest from antiquity in choosing Laocoön as the title of her sculpture?

The answer may lie in Hesse's attitude to materials:
"I was always aware that I would take order versus chaos, stringy versus mass, huge versus small, and I would try to find the most absurd opposites or extreme opposites. And I was always aware of their absurdity, and also their contradiction formally. And it was always more interesting than making something average, normal, right size, right proportion." -- Eva Hesse
Is Hesse interested in a different kind of tragedy? Why has she chosen such delicate and impermanent materials for this work? What similarities can you see in both sculptures? What kind of language do we need to be able to discuss both works of art? What is it helpful to know beyond what we can see?

A Timeline


"The history of art is the history of revivals" -- Samuel Butler

To what extent is this true? The time period for this course begins in Classical Greece at about 500BC and ends with Post-Modernism at the end of the 20th century. In that period, how many revivals of the language of classical art have emerged in western culture? Why were the Romans so fascinated by Greek art and culture? What do we mean by the Dark Ages? How do you account for the resurgence of interest in classical art (Greek and Roman) in fifteenth century Italy? What does the phrase "Neo-Classical" mean? Thinking like this about revivals of interest in historical styles is one way of conceptualising the story of art. Obviously this approach has huge limitations, the main one being a tendency to marginalise anything that doesn't appear to fit into the grand narrative or canon. We can return to some of these criticisms later when we take a look at some of the ideological standpoints that have helped to shape and deconstruct art history. For now, I think it's a good idea to develop an understanding of a narrative so that we can visualise a map of possible connections between works of art, architecture and design across a fairly large expanse of time.

In order to get a grip on the basic chronology of the course, I'd like you this week to focus on creating a timeline of the major shifts in style since 500BC focusing specifically on the recurring interest in classical culture. Don't worry too much about over-populating your timeline with hundreds of "isms". I'm looking for a broad brush approach for now in order to develop a rough sense of the ebb and flow of cultural interests. The most useful timeline will allow you to continue to edit it over the following weeks, adding and subtracting useful information as you find it.

Why not begin by reviewing some of the works of art we have discussed so far on this blog and placing them on the timeline? Will your timeline be a physical or virtual object? Will it, like the enormous version on the Tate Modern landings, stretch around your bedroom walls or are you more comfortable with it existing on a computer screen?

The Classical in Art and Architecture - Grappling with beauty, nature and the ‘undefinable'.


When we look at classical art and architecture, we can sometimes be confused. We see what appears to be a perfection – a consummate marriage of science and art, expressed in a language of control that mystifies us. We know that these are things are beautiful, but we’re not sure why and how.

And so the process of analysis begins…

Architects have forever wondered of the origins of classical form. And this is usually presented as a story of transformation, of development from ‘primitive hut’ to Doric Temple. This gives us a means of interpreting what appear to be highly or purely decorative forms as previously having had ‘use’ - and of seeing the classical language of architecture as a stylisation of functional elements (the exposed end of roof beams become triglyphs for example).


Illustration on the origins of the Doric Order from Bannister Fletcher’s ‘A history of Architecture’ the seminal work of Architectural History still used today.



Modern architects sometimes use the ‘deconstruction’ of the origins of classical language in modern buildings – this view of the rear of the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden shows the ‘doric’ language of the collanade ‘disintegrating into the language of the primitive hut for the ‘loggia’ at high level.

Once we have understood, or ‘interpreted’, the nature of the shapes that make up classical architecture, we can measure them - to learn of the specific relationships between the individual parts and the whole. And many have, from Vitruvius, through Leonardo, Palladio, et al.



Illustration from Le Corbusier’s ‘Towards A New Architecture”


Illustration from Palladio’s Four books on Architecture


Through this process of measuring and comparing, we discover that there really is a very sophisticated set of relationships, of proportions, which govern the language of classical architecture. And this is where it gets interesting. Because we discover that one of the fundamental ratios used in classical art and architecture is that of the Golden Section (golden ratio). It can be found throughout the buildings, from the proportions of the plan of a room, to the shape of windows, distances between columns etc. etc.


The golden section is a line segment sectioned into two according to the golden ratio. The total length a + b is to the longer segment a as a is to the shorter segment b. See more about this at http://www.mlahanas.de/Greeks/GoldenSection.htm http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_ratio

It turns out that the Golden Section is a very special ratio. It can be defined easily graphically, but not so easily mathematically as a whole number. It has an infinite set of results – small and big (the Fibonacci series is one expression of golden ratio proportions), and this means it can be used to generate relationships between things of entirely different scales: from the size of a sculpted icanthus leaf to the size of a city for example, or to put it another way: from the human to the urban.



Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man

And this is where Architects and Artists can get waylayed. Because all of a sudden, we believe we can almost see it – a system of measurement, of understanding, that encompasses everything – Art that consumes Science!


Le Corbusier’s “The Modular”


Dom. Hans Van Den Laan’s “The Plastic Number”


Fractal image

But this is a problem. This is science - not art or architecture. This is using a system of rules to try and proscribe (not describe) beauty. And Art and Architecture, like nature and society, do not operate on a pure system of rules and regulations. It is often the mistake, the error, the quirk against the system, the lack of perfection, which makes buildings / paintings / sculptures beautiful. Because in the end, we live in a world which is not describable empirically, a world in which we don’t have exactly 365 days a year, a world in which there isn’t exactly 8 notes in a natural musical octave, a world which is way out of the reach of our understanding through an all encompassing theory (unless you're Steven Hawking).

And this is why, although it worthwhile understanding the principles of a classical language, we also need, in the end, just to trust our own judgement.

This is beautiful.

That is ugly.

Etc. etc.

Architecture as Theatre

1868 Lawrence Alma-Tadema - Phidias Showing the Frieze of the Parthenon to his Friends

The Parthenon is considered to have been one of the best examples of Greek Doric architecture. We will return to the idea of Orders in Greek architecture in a future post so, for now, I'd like to focus on what it might have been like to visit the building in all its glory. This is rather like the difference between reading a play on the page and imagining a staged performance. The building today is a shadow of its former self so let's try to imagine what it might have been like in the 5th century BCE. Fortunately, several websites can help us in this quest.

The following text does a pretty good job of describing what it might have been like to visit The Parthenon just after it was completed:

"All temples in Greece were designed to be seen only from the outside. The viewers never entered a temple and could only glimpse the interior statues through the open doors. The Parthenon was conceived in a way that the aesthetic elements allow for a smooth transition between the exterior and the interior that housed the chryselephantine statue of Athena. A visitor to the Acropolis would be confronted by the majestic proportion of the Parthenon in three quarters view. As the viewer moved closer, the details of the sculptures would become decipherable, and when in proximity to the base of the columns, parts of the frieze would become evident in tantalizing colorful glimpses peering from the spaces between the columns. Moving towards the east and looking up, a visitor would be mesmerized with the depiction of the Panathenaic procession as it appeared in cinematic fashion on the frieze. A visitor moving east would eventually turn the corner to face the entrance of the Parthenon, and there he would be confronted with the birth of Athena high above on the east pediment. Then, through the immense open doors, any visitor would be enchanted by the glistening gold and ivory hues of the monumental statue of Athena standing at the back of the dim cella. The statue of Athena Pallas reflected its immense stature on the tranquil surface of the water-pool floor, and was framed by yet more Doric columns, this time smaller, in a double-decked arrangement that made the interior space seem as if it were even larger and taller than the exterior. It seems certain that the master planners of the Parthenon conceived it as a theatrical event. The temple was constructed with the movements of the viewer in mind, and by the arrangement of the temple, the monumental sculptures of the pediment, and the detailed frieze, the emotions of the visitors were choreographed to prepare them for the ultimate glimpse of the majestic Athena Parthenos and to maximize the effect of an awe inspiring visit."

Part of the building's beauty might lie in the control of geometrical relationships. The balance and harmony of the various elements of the building are the result of mathematical calculations. We will return to some of these ideas in future posts but one of the most important concepts is the use of optical effects which work to counteract some of the distortions caused by viewing three dimensional objects in space. Check out this slightly cheesy but interesting video which explores some of the optical tricks employed by the builders of The Parthenon:


Watch NOVA | Optical Tricks of the Parthenon | PBS in Entertainment Videos | View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

Chronology


A key concept in the study of art history is chronology. Having an understanding of the relationships between historical events, political, social and economic contexts and the art produced in a given period is pretty crucial. Many History of Art text books are structured chronologically, enabling the authors to tell a story about changes and developments over time. Of course, there are recent examples of galleries and museums re-structuring their collections thematically, rather than chronologically and we will certainly be whizzing around in history on this blog to keep things interesting. Nevertheless, the internet contains lots of useful resources for students trying to get a grip on some basic chronology. One really good example is the Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History on the Metropolitan Museum of Art website. Here is a brief description of the resource:
The Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History is a chronological, geographical, and thematic exploration of the history of art from around the world, as illustrated especially by the Metropolitan Museum of Art's collection. The Museum's curatorial, conservation, and education staff—the largest team of art experts anywhere in the world—research and write the Timeline, which is an invaluable reference and research tool for students, educators, scholars, and anyone interested in the study of art history and related subjects. First launched in 2000, the Timeline now extends from prehistory to the present day. It will continue to expand in scope and depth, and also reflect the most up-to-date scholarship.
Given that the AS course begins with classical Greek art from approximately 500 BCE, it might make sense for us to check out this period on the timeline and the associated resources that include examples of works of art and thematic essays. If you are planning a trip to a gallery this weekend, may I suggest a quick trip to see Poussin's Adoration at the National Gallery, followed by the Parthenon Marbles at the British Museum.

Here are a couple of questions for you to consider:
  • What does the word "classical" mean in the context of art history?
  • Why do you think the exam board have selected 500 BCE as the historical starting point of the course?
  • What do you already know about the ancient Greek civilisation?
  • What evidence can you see around you that the language of "classical" art and architecture is still very important?
You may wish to post some responses to these questions as comments so that we can have a discussion.