In Retrospect: MoMA After Berger and Barnet

In my pre-MoMA post regarding the Berger and Barnet readings I discussed how the authors were challenging us as individuals to find ourselves within each piece of art we observe. I was obviously not expecting my artistic life–or lack thereof–to be overturned by this seeming “call to arms” presented by Berger and Barnet, but I was disappointed that my actual experience did not quite match up to my expectations. I have always personally felt that I have the ability to develop and cultivate a genuine interest in almost anything regardless of its discipline–art, history, mathematics, science, or otherwise. Yet this ability is in some ways a double-edged sword. To become so wholeheartedly enthusiastic about something previously unknown often requires adopting the view of others with greater experience and knowledge of the subject. Although my hope is that I will in turn use these views as a springboard for developing my own, it is sometimes the case that I never get the chance. These other views become my own before I even have the opportunity to distinguish between my own thoughts and those that have been influenced by others. But, to return to the discussion at hand, the main issue with this lies in the dissonance that can result when established ideas clash with gut feeling.

I wrote in my previous post of how my primary concern when it comes to viewing art is that it is sometimes difficult to reconcile my ideas on a piece with the responses the piece elicits from others. Despite Berger and Barnet’s warnings against this type of thinking and despite the fact that I really did try my best to go to the museum with their words in mind, I couldn’t help but feel that dissonance in my thoughts regarding expectations versus reality. Because I had done previous research on Surrealism (my assigned art movement), my thoughts had been shaped to expect artwork that was blatantly shocking and a clear subversion of convention and tradition. Perhaps it is because Surrealism is in itself such a complex, convoluted art movement that I found myself struggling with so many pieces in the exhibition. Particularly in the sculpture and “object art” sections of the Surrealism gallery, I could see absolutely no semblance of the subconscious release or dream-like psychosexual forces that Surrealists are so well-known for. It seemed to me almost presumptuous that these artists could make pieces like this and expect us as an audience to accept them without second thought.

This train of thought led me back to the Berger and Barnet readings and our discussions in class about what constitutes a work of art. Going to the MoMA and viewing these pieces made me realize that many of these works were rendered either as a social commentary, as a statement against social convention, or just to make the audience think and/or ask questions. Perhaps a work of art can be anything that raises eyebrows and questions, but that is still accepted for its value–whether it is artistic, social, monetary.

All this being said, however, I was pleased to find that Berger and Barnet still had some influence on my viewing of art on a humanistic level. The readings had made me aware that each work of art should be viewed as more than just the physical object taking up space in a museum, but also as a representation of a particular moment in an artist’s life. Each work of art, no matter how large or small, mattered to someone at some point in time when it was being made. This understanding allowed me to approach the artwork from a more anthropological standpoint, viewing each piece as a testament to the power of human dedication and conviction. I noticed brushstrokes and textures, layers of material, the painstaking attention each artist had placed on a detail that most would probably just ignore on a passing glance. I noticed these aspects and I gained an immense respect for the artists who devote their time and their lives to this medium of expression.

The two works I chose to analyze are The Empire of Light, II (1950) by René Magritte and Water Lilies (1914-25) by Claude Monet. Magritte is a Surrealist painter and Monet an Impressionist, but what led me to choose these two pieces is that their initial differences give way to certain striking similarities. The Magritte painting stood out to me among the various Surrealist pieces because of its simplicity. The Surrealism gallery was full of strange, wild, extravagant shapes and colors, but the Magritte made an impression because of its more subtle coloration and the fact that, on the surface, it looked quite normal hanging on a wall next to works by Breton and Miro. It is a fascinating painting, one that takes a moment to fully grasp the significance of. Empire of Light works as a Surrealist painting because it doesn’t make any sense. It pictures a cloud-filled, beautiful blue sky above, but below is a quiet, empty street cloaked in shadows save for a lone streetlamp glowing faintly in the darkness. It almost seems as if Magritte took two halves of completely different paintings and juxtaposed them to make one image. And it is this quality, this impression that the painting makes on the viewer, that made me pick the Monet piece for comparison. As the name of his art movement implies, Monet created Water Lilies for the purpose of making an impression on his audience. I have always been a huge fan of Monet’s work so it was an easy choice for me to pick his piece, but when comparing it to Magritte’s I realized that, in some ways, Monet’s painting also works because it shouldn’t make sense. He overlaid splashes of color, blurred textures and images, and created a gigantic piece that, in all honesty, should look like nothing but a mess. But, like all Impressionists, the piece works because it evokes an overall emotion and imprints an image in our minds–that of a beautiful lily-filled pond. Impressionists and Surrealists were both considered radicals of their times, demonstrating a clear break from artistic tradition, and although Magritte and Monet differ in their methodology and execution, their pieces are both impressionistic and shocking in their own ways. It is for this reason that I chose to compare these two pieces because it is also the reason why I think we discuss art in the first place. Art evokes an emotion in us and thus we respond.

–Norine Chan

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One Response to In Retrospect: MoMA After Berger and Barnet

  1. primamanandharsasaki says:

    I related to Norine’s views regarding the idea that one’s thoughts can be easily shaped by others’ opinions. We are in a highly interconnected world on both a large and small scale. Thus, it would be incredibly difficult to go about our lives independent of any influence that would shape our own views. Often, we are not even aware that our values or ideas have been significantly influenced by society. In terms of viewing art with a preconditioned mindset, I feel that in addition to the opinions of others, the very selection itself that the museum curators chose sends a significant message about what [good] art is.

    Well-renowned museums such as the MOMA are known to house some of the “greatest” works of art, or at the very least some of the most famous. Yet this perception in itself already conditions people to believe what should be considered masterpieces. If in fact art is art if the artist calls it so, then one need not rely on the opinions of a small group of people to espouse their ideas of what great art really is.

    Thus, when confronted with the dilemma of establishing an authentic opinion on art, it is essential to first identify the sources of influence. This was indirectly mentioned in the Berger and Barnet readings. By analyzing works of art through multiple lens, one can also look into the message the piece and its surroundings say about the style of art.

    Using this approach, I came across “Self Portrait with Palette” (1924) by Lovis Corinth. Initially I was drawn to it because it contrasts my own style of portraiture. The brushstrokes are visible and rough, yet the aggregate of all these coarse elements form a convincing piece overall. This seemed to suggest that a self-portrait does not necessarily mean aesthetic similarity. Thus, this was also a fitting piece of German Expressionism in that it reflects not only a theme of portraiture, but also the contempt for tradition.

    After seeing this piece, Pablo Picasso’s “Girl Before a Mirror” (1932) intrigued me in that it presented itself as a portrait through my eyes. Although it is not labeled as a portrait in any way, I found the depiction of a girl and her reflection to be insightful into what self-reflection can be. The juxtaposition of her as depicted by Picasso to her as she sees herself, seemed to suggest the dichotomy between individuals and larger society. Also, it seemed to illustrate that influence from society that can alter one’s own identity with one’s self. Part of the Cubist movement (and thus across genre borders), its similarities to Corinth’s piece seems to suggest a common idea of the purpose of art.

    ~Prima (Blog B)

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