The art world is fickle as a pickle in a nickel (to misquote and re-fashion Gertrude Stein). Always was always will be. There’s a far far far too small a show of Charles Pollock’s work at Jason McCoy’s gallery following on from a yes yes yes bigger show at the Guggenheim, Venice. If Pollock’s name sounds familiar then yes: Charles was Jackson’s older brother and just (if not more so) talented. What is fascinating about Pollock (Charles) ‘black’ paintings done in Rome is their total un-American, un-abstract expressionist character. Rather than the paint reaching outwards it reaches inwards into the canvas in a very Japanese way. When I asked his daughter Francesca about this and whether Charles was influenced by that aesthetic she replied: “these were painted in Rome…he’d only just got to grips with canvas…: it was a beautiful fluke”. In a sense they are light-years away from say Franz Kline’s black intersections. They are so so quiet and tender- much like Charles’ personality. Even the ‘color’ paintings whisper rather than shout abstractly.
What will Alberto Burri be like at the Guggenheim?
Opening tomorrow at the Guggenheim NY is unarguably one of the must see art shows of the year if not…. Alberto Burri: The Trauma of Painting travels to Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen, Dusseldorf (March 5 to July 3, 2016). And while Burri’s art (as any great art) can stand alone and speak in and of itself, there is something monumentally moving about the Guggenheim show that just can’t be replicated in Dusseldorf. Curatorally it is not in an obvious sense in any way ground breaking. It journeys upwards and upwards upon Frank Lloyd Wright’s curvature chronologically. And yet that Wright architecture is a match made in heaven for Burri’s work. Spectators/the curious/believers become in and of the art/architecture. Like Wright Burri was elemental but unlike some contemporaries he was fascinated with the visceral often processed materiality of mankind’s chutzpah. Richard Serra eat your steel;) !
He morphed synthetics to resemble metal. Synthetics transmogrifying their elements back into wood. Nothing is quite what it seems. How could it ever be. Alberto Burri is often praised, commodified, about lectured way out of context. He was one of the C20’s greatest artists. Rarely were interviews granted. A private man coping with life through his art. One longs to know what he thought about his work exhibited back in 1978 at the Guggenheim. Nearing (only near) the summit one passes the rectangular miniatures Burri sent every Christmas to the Guggenheim’s then director James Johnson Sweeney. One could never speak for Frank Lloyd Wright but one can’t imagine he would not have a brimming smile upon his face with this exhibition. One nears the summit with the Cretti and Celotex (Italiano- Cellotex) – huge black rectangles that would seem an imposition to Wright’s curves but no doubt he would agree make one go higher.
Then there is the Gibellina film remembering Burri's response to the earthquake. The world stops turning. And then and then the drawings Burri drew during/after the war (never before seen from a private collection). They are saturated with monumentality. The human form agin nature’s destiny. Perhaps. We are full circle. I joked to a perfectly breasted/white knitted chemise/braless blonde hovering the Lavazza coffee counter that one needed a café after that ascent/descent. Interestingly/disturblingly she implied something about one having too much ambition. No great artist nor true believer is interested truly in ambition. There are mountains everywhere big and small. The Guggenheim has its own mountains to climb. Always has, always will. Art of belief, however, will always survive. Rudolf Bauer
Great art heals wounds not re-opens them.
Interview: Bruno Corà (Presidente- La Fondazione Palazzo Albizzini Collezione Burri)
Events program for the exhibition
mi dispiace- learn Italian for the videos- it's not that bad....;) or invent a bot for instantaneous subtitles. But the bot may may make you into a bot alla Burri:) Ciao....
Wir holen sie ein auf jenen Höh’n Im Sonnenschein! Der Tag is schön auf jenen Höh’n!
