inevitable

inevitable. looking back across the 20th century, it seems that every movement in art history peels smoothly off the one before, uncurling itself as though new. but it's not; it's an inevitable step on the road, given that, expect this.

modern abstract art is inevitable, given the stripped-down shape-for-shape-sake of the bauhaus years. art had been making the dive into abstraction for decades, to the point where meaning and reference become moot: sheer existence. ("just dance! don't think!"1)

art deco into bauhaus is obviously inevitable: abstraction of shape into outline lent itself to form over fantasy. clearing out, clearing away to make way for the modern age in which everyone was too busy to think a wasted thought, or waste a single movement. the line was important then, which was inevitable.

and yes, i am simplifying, but i wouldn't want to fall behind the times! also bold were the times leading into the art deco moment. art nouveau was about that line, that curve, that color, that biological reference...

and art nouveau... that was not inevitable. yes, one could say it was preceded by impressionism, well, it was preceded by impressionism, but impressionism was more about an entire field whereas art nouveau and all of its inevitable followers were about one thing: the line.

to my eyes nothing whatsoever in anything that preceded the arrival of the east predicted what was to follow. the beginning of the line which was not to end. nothing in the tiny and drab patterns of western textiles hinted of the explosion that was to come. (nor predicted was the inspiration by a zionist art nouveau designer from galicia of a british-turned-american designer named louis rhead!)

it wasn't always a linear progression; some of the textiles of the deco stylists more resembled the japanese textiles than did their earlier counterparts. but was this exuberant jump to boldness predictable? i think not!

was the festoonization of clothing with flora and fauna an expected result of incoming culture? why should it be? not a chance! or was it to be expected that practically overnight color broke the color barrier? i pale just thinking of it.

that upper-crust drawing rooms might be thrilled to adorn their walls with spiders might have raised some eyebrows, but other than little miss muffet, everyone would have it no other way. for it was nature and color bursting from their wraps in the holds of the black ships arriving from japan.

and while japan likely viewed their latest fashions as being inevitable, given the season before, not a soul, i would bet, would have ever guessed that in the west they would inspire a series of inevitable progressions for decades and decades to come.

(check out MODA's new blog.)

the music of wallpaper

while actually reading the text in my copy of 'hidden impressions,' the catalogue for the exhibition of the same name at the MAK in vienna, of instances where the japanese influenced the austrian arts. we'll get back to that catalogue in a future post, but for now, let's follow this little adventure.

i was wildly taken with the two images of japanese endpapers, the cranes on the salmon background and the puppies. sure i had seen a western equivilent, i searched for days to no avail. all of the western endpapers, even those from childrens' books, were, to my eyes anyway, far more rigid by design.

refusing to give up, i started perusing some others of my books. i double-checked the catalogue and all of my other books about design in vienna at that time: nothing. why, i asked myself, and still do, have japanese endpapers in the catalogue with no japonisme version for comparison?

i started on my other books about paper, wallpaper, and had myself an aha moment. i recalled having noticed so many times how actually un-equivalent these matches-up usually are. rarely does a japanese design form get re-interpreted in some into something comparable back and forth. usually, it, like some inherited traits, skips a generation.

but once i found these, not only didn't they surprise me, but they gave me deeper understanding in both sides of the equation. first, we've discussed the lesson that the west learned that caused them to question the validity of any differences between art, decoration, and craft.

no one embraced this concept more strongly than the nabis, for whom there was no less a creative act in creating wallpaper than in painting a painting. much of what we know as paintings are actually bits of a wall-hanging or a screen (see here), but even when the item was a painting itself, it was covered with wallpaper, and, or, the sort of design that hangs in an invisible balance between subject and surround.

in fact, the more one looks at the work of the nabis (here represented by maurice denis, pierre bonnard, and vuillard), the more one sees rhythm, pulse. these pieces do not make a statement, they make a song.

and the songs have continued out in ever widening circles. whistler sued over it; the right to see a surface as something other than flat, the right to name a painting a symphony, a rhapsody, a song.

connect the dots

how do you choose what to wear? are garments always costumes, assuring that you will be taken by others as the role you wish to fill? there are those who suggest that every single item of clothing is a choice communicated, down to the last nuance, and a statement made, down to the last whisper.

me, i am driven by color. and cotton. and though i believe i have no consciousness of what is fashionable whatsoever, there remains something of great importance about it all.

i can remember the white empire-waisted sheath that i wore for high- school graduation. it had a black cummerbund with white polka dots. i was, and still am, quite delighted that i could find an enameled bracelet that was white with black polka dots to match.

several times here we've discussed the volumes of identity revealed in various cultures by hairdo, or costume, detail, or grand gesture. if it was true then, it must be true now. something as 'simple' as a woman's fingernails might immediately brand her as 'one of us' or not.

do you want it to be true for you? do you communicate through appearances consciously? might you be kidding yourself, telling a different story entirely than the one you believe you're telling? how is your identity spelled out by your clothes?

i have come to believe that identity, appearance, opinion are, for most of us, invisibly malleable -- we think what we think, wear what we wear, even know ourselves to be who we think we are... to fit into the group of our life. it could be dangerous not to.

to be born 'outside the box' changes the perception of this, but does not wholly negate its pull. we like to think we create ourselves out of free will, but if that were true best friends wouldn't dress alike, nobody would call to ask what to wear to the party.

that old song, 'you've got to be taught how to hate,' well, you've got to be taught everything else too. how can something so unimportant be the most important thing of all?

fly like an eagle

Music is most sovereign
because more than anything else,
rhythm and harmony find
their way to the inmost
soul and take strongest hold
upon it, bringing with
them and imparting grace.
—Plato, The Republic

The cranes are flying ...
—Chekhov

And here it comes: around the world,
In Chicago, Petersburg, Tokyo,
the dancers
Hit the floor running
(the communal dancefloor

Here, there, at intervals,
sometimes paved,
Sometimes rotted linoleum
awash in beer,
Sometimes a field across which
the dancers streak

Like violets across grass, sometimes packed dirt
In a township of corrugated metal roofs)
And what was once prescribed ritual, the profuse

Strains of premeditated art,
is now improvisation,
The desperately new, where to the sine-curved
Yelps and spasms of police sirens outside

The club, a spasmodic feedback ululates
The death and cremation of history,
Until a boy whose hair is purple spikes,

And a girl wearing a skull
That wants to say I’m cool but I’m in pain,
Get up and dance together, sort of,
age thirteen.

Young allegorists, they’ll mime motions
Of shootouts,
of tortured ones in basements,
Of cold insinuations before sex

Between enemies,
the jubilance of the criminal.
The girl tosses her head and dances
The shoplifter’s meanness and self-betrayal

For a pair of stockings, a scarf,
a perfume,
The boy dances stealing the truck,
Shooting his father.

The point is to become
a flying viper,
A diving vulva, the great point
Is experiment, like pollen flinging itself

Into far other habitats, or seed
That travels a migrant bird’s gut
To be shit overseas.

The creatures gamble
on the whirl of life
And every adolescent body hot
Enough to sweat it out on the dance floor

Is a laboratory: maybe this lipstick, these boots,
These jeans, these earrings, maybe if I flip
My hair and vibrate my pelvis

Exactly synched to the band’s wildfire noise
That imitates history’s catastrophe
Nuke for nuke, maybe I’ll survive,

Maybe we’ll all survive. . . .

At the intersection of poverty
and plague
The planet's children—brave, uncontrollable, juiced
Out of their gourds—invent the sacred dance.

Alicia Ostriker

“Saturday Night” from The Little Space:
Poems Selected and New, 1968-1998.
Copyright © 1998 by Alicia Ostriker.

more cranes

bright dust

POPPIES

The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin

and lacy leaves.
There isn't a place
in this world that doesn't

sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage

shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade
from hooking forward—
of course
loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,

when it's done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
Inside the bright fields,

touched by their rough and spongy gold,
I am washed and washed
in the river
of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do—
what can you do
about it—
deep, blue night?

Mary Oliver

the travels of inspiration

one of the things morse brought back with him when he returned from japan was a notebook of kimono pattern designs from 1734.

it had been created by Ôoka Shunboku, who "was one of the first artists to expand painting techniques to a broader audience through publishing monochromatic block-printed books, painting manuals, and other handbooks." 1

the designs in this collection were ostensibly created for wood-carving, but they were charming enough that they were chosen for fabric design, metalwork, room-divider screens, and much else.

interestingly, it would appear that this volume's reach, both geographically and chronologically, was certainly broader than he'd likely ever imagined. enter arthur silver and the silver studio.

from photographs we have of his home, we see that
silver collected and displayed treasures from japan.
his company, the silver studio, produced thousands
of designs for everything from textiles
and wallpaper to silver and jewelry.

the silver studio was on retainer to arthur lazenby liberty's department store, liberty. they provided many of the items they produced to liberty's solely. both men were instrumental in introducing japanese goods, and styles, to the growing middle class. liberty was to england as bing was to france.

we know this book was brought to the west early in the days of japan's trade with the west. is it such a reach that a collector such as silver might have gotten his hands on a copy?

of course, since it was one of the first multi-copy publications coming out of japan, it's also possible that that many others saw it as well. seemingly inspired textile designs came out of northern england, france, and the wiener werkstatte as well.




fortunately, you don't have to take my word for it:

Japan and British Art Nouveau, 1880-1900
July 2009 - Feb 2010, Middlesex

An exhibition exploring the influence of Japanese motifs and techniques on British Art Nouveau, with particular reference to the design output of the Silver Studio. The West London-based Silver Studio was founded by Arthur Silver, who during the 1880s and 90s was heavily interested in and influenced by the art of Japan. The exhibition will feature many Japanese and Japanese-inspired objects from the Silver Studios collection, and explore ideas around cross-fertilisation and the way in which design influences were shared between two very different cultures. 2