Sunday, March 14, 2021

your turn #5

paul burch for die fläche magazine,  


dear arh 346 class: we covered an intense fin de siècle. the movements: arts and crafts, art nouveau, the vienna secession. the stars: dudovich, mucha, pissarro, toorop, van de velde, selwyn image, the beggarstaffs. the architecture: hoffman's stoclet palace, rennie mackintosh's hill house. 

be mindful of your comments. no echo chamber (we did better last week).👏👏👏

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

In our last ARH 346 class we discussed many subjects from the wonderfully mysterious art of Jan Toorop to the simplistic geniuses that made up The Beggarstaff Brothers. I found the partnership between William Nicholson and James Pryde, the collaborate team behind the Beggarstaff’s name to be particularly interesting. Very infrequently in the world of graphic and painted art do individuals work together, and even more infrequently do they work well together. The attitude and work amongst two artists is often difficult to balance as the tendencies and personas of creative individuals tend to clash. In addition to the men successfully working together they were changing the world of graphic art with a simplistic, beautiful style. As a graphic designer myself I appreciate the specificities of their work. Particularly I enjoy Nicholson and Pryde’s use of flat spacing to simplify the pieces while implementing eccentric colors to regather their audiences attention. I would be fascinated to see a recording of how these two men worked together, whether they simply brainstormed concepts or went as far as to work on a canvas simultaneously. All in all, it was an absolutely remarkable partnership in the art world, a world that is often a very lonely place…

-Harry Reid

Anonymous said...

To start, I investigated the works of Paul Bürck and saw that he has a wide range of masterpieces like this one. When I put a little effort to saw his work, I began to remember the different techniques that other masters used and which of them are applied in this one specifically. Firstly the style of these works reminded me of Egon Schiele, in his work succession 49th because of the frequent use of black and the existing margin in these works. Taking the margins at once, I also remembered Henry Van de Velde in his poster for Tropon because of the design and lines that the figures make. In addition to all of this, I can also get an important part of Beggarstaffs by its good use of the color value in the work.
Leaving aside the comparisons or similarities, it seems to be an intriguing work because of the pose and expressions of the figures. The one that mainly attracts me is the woman's, could be the pose and the expression one of the factors, but I'm sure that the one that is hooking me is the hair. The hair has a pronounced profundity by the thickness of the line and the spaces filled with black, but on another side, it seems like a rope that is falling from her head, I just find that beautiful.

-Roman Moscato

Unknown said...

What struck me from the last lecture was Mackintosh's The Hill House. This fine piece of architecture was so incredibly before its time. Built in the early 1900’s, there was almost nothing that looked like this structure. The Hill House resembles something of this day and age rather than what was popular then. What you would find in the 1900s were structures that looked like they could be on West Egg in the Great Gatsby movie, not in a book praising the merits of brutalist architecture. What was popular was ornate details and the arches of years before. Mackintosh's turned these ideas on their head and used sharp angles and modern minimalism in the design of The Hill House. The design was almost stark and cold in its build, and yet also extremely beautiful. Mackintosh's influences are said to be both Scottish and Japanese, perhaps this combination is what gave him the ability to design so beyond his time.

Olivia Ginsberg

Unknown said...

“L’art pour l’art” art for art’s sake. The idea that art is made for the purpose of the art. There is no commissioner, no money, no reward, but the art itself. In someway art loses its purity and connection to the artist when there is a third party intervening. When someone is commissioning a piece of art they ultimately have a say in the stylization, size, and general aspects of what happens in the artwork. When an artist makes art for art’s sake there is purity as something had to spark his interest for the work to be made; it could be something simple as an idea that same form listening to a song, or watching the wind blow upon the grass. The main point that I am trying to get at is the catalyst has to come from within. The idea of art for art’s sake is what gave way to movements such as formalism, modernism, and the avant-garde. When there are no limits to your work you are able to try no forms of expression. When art becomes too much of a “currency” there is a corrupting factor. Art can be a form of propaganda and when the art is touching only narratives dictated by others it becomes compromised. If artists were only making art off of commission it is hard to see that we would have been able to have a romantic period in art. If it was not for the rebellion against the salon then art would not have evolved into impressionism, which then led way to cubism and expressionism. Art only moves and evolves at the whim of the artist not according to a governing body giving orders.

-Sam Zeigler

Anonymous said...

This piece, to me, represents the duality of humans, and maybe even have some feminist undertones with the portrayal of the two genders. It’s almost as if some people are starting to become more aware of their treatment of women, seen here seemingly helpless and naked, being held up by a man. Additionally, the woman is while, symbolizing a sense of purity - on a more macro level, the good that people do and kindness of most. However, she is paired with a man, adorned in blackness, as if to convey a sense of evil or sin. His face more angry - as if he is ready to lash out on someone or the woman he’s propping up. It’s as if he’s a sinister manifestation of the patriarchy - especially with him being the one in power and genitals are hidden, while the woman is naked and looks helpless. On an even larger scale, it can be interpreted as the powerful taking advantage of the “weak” (or more specifically, those that they see as inferior to them). The borders around the piece kinda resemble handcuffs, further emphasizing the toxic culture present in society and us being seemingly trapped to it.

Student: Briera Crockett

Anonymous said...

What really interested me from last week’s lecture was Alphonse Mucha’s style and posters. After his Gismonda poster was posted all over Paris and sent him into popularity, many companies hired him to design their advertisements for a variety of products. He made everything from posters to calendars to even wine labels, and even though the designs were made to sell an eclectic range of products, they were all rendered in the same style that Mucha developed while creating posters like the Gismonda. In addition to pioneering the “Mucha style” of Art Nouveau, these works immensely improved printmaking’s artistic reputation. Prior to Mucha, printmaking mostly existed in the mediums of woodcuts, engravings, and etchings. As a result, the distinction between mass production and fine art became fuzzy, and the Art Nouveau aesthetic quickly became an embedded and accessible aspect of everyday life. Funnily enough, Mucha considered his more traditional work made in his later life to be his most important. Therefore, to understand his practice, it’s vital to not only study his popular prints, but to consider his passion projects as well. After all, Mucha famously stated that “art exists only to communicate a spiritual message.”

Ellie Massaro

Max Speziani said...

last week’s lecture started off with sensual but disturbing images of Aubrey Beardsley. He had a short yet remarkable career, the careful craft of using black ink on white canvas or paper inspired so many artist today. He began with seven different styles which he then narrowed to his iconic style. When visiting Paris, he saw the works of French artist, Toulouse-Lautrec and exhibit of Japanese art. It seems like he combined the whimsy and aesthetic of Lautrec with the craftsmanship and refinery of Japanese art. Though he captured work by two different cultures and art styles he created his own original work that he describes as “grotesque”. During Victorian England, his works were very controversial however he received great recognition when he was hired to illustrate Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’ Arthur. During this extensive work, his style became more refined and he began to create simplicity from artistry. This brought him at the center of art world in London, making him an art director for his most controversial work, the Yellow Book. He explored and illustrated man’s dark side, what hides behind the man’s eyes, the urges and suppressed sexuality. His blatant display of femininity and horror captured a viewer’s attention, the raw subtlety of his creation will live forever in the viewer’s mind. Beardsley was ahead of his time in style and in work. He will soon later regret his work when he converted to Catholicism around the time of his early death of 25. He wrote his publisher Leonard Smithers to destroy his obscene drawings but he Smithers denied his wishes and published his works after his death.
-Max Speziani

Anonymous said...

Moriz Jung was one of my favorite artists I learned about since last class. When looking up his work it was cool to see how all of his illustrations felt like they belonged to the same artist, they were harmonious together, but when I scrolled one by one was interesting to see their individual representations. Some of them have more of a satire to them like the ones about planes or showing what seemed an ordinary scene, and my favorite ones which focused on a specific portrait. The people he drew were characters, they carried energy with their exaggerations and facial expressions, but with a simplicity to his style of drawing, stroke, and color.
I was sad to find out he passed during WWI and how the Wiener Werkstatte (“Vienna Workshop” which he was part of) also faced struggles post the War being forced to close in 1932 (Wikipedia), made me reflect on how many different losses there were with the World Wars.

Julia M Martins

https://www.theviennasecession.com/gallery/jung-moriz/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wiener_Werkstätte

Anonymous said...

The maximalism of the Art Nouveau period in general particularly intrigued me this week. From Modernista in Spain to Jugendstil in Germany, I found it fascinating how architects across Europe simultaneously rebelled against the simplistic geometry of Neoclassicism and began an international movement drawing inspiration from organic forms. The pioneers of "new art" all created work at the intersection of practicality and ornamentation, but I was struck by the similarity in their chaotic beauty. Although Horta's Museum is vastly distinct from Gaudi's Casa Batlló, the natural lines that course through both almost gives the impression that the artists were inspired by the same natural scene, only interpreted it in different ways. Art Nouveau's emergence speaks volumes to the way design and architecture evolves as a whole; it occurs when artists defy the current norm, draw inspiration from their surroundings, balance the tension between creating functional art or art for art's sake, and create a mark that is "new" enough to leave a legacy.

Lauren Maingot

Anonymous said...


Gaudi is an example of an artist who used every medium he worked in to influence the other, much like Klimt used his beginnings in more conventional architectural design to inspire the use of gold foil and intricate backgrounds in his later paintings. Gaudi used glasswork, ceramics, ironwork, and carpentry in his architecture, not strictly as decoration but fully integrated into the use of the structure. He was also completely innovative with his supplies, using "waste" ceramic pieces to create mosaic covered sculptures, a process called "trencadis." However, personal styles like these lend themselves to very individual processes and projects, which is why Klimt made the leap from public commissions into paintings of his own after his commissioned public works were considered controversial or “pornographic.” Once he was working under his own judgement, he created his most successful pieces as part of his “Golden period,” although a great number of his pieces were destroyed and only photographs remain. The genuineness of work done under strictly your own critique is completely discernable from work created for somebody else, even if the difference in the process is entirely subconscious.

Alejandra Moros