Sometimes I go to see something and I have no reaction whatsoever. So it doesn't end up on the blog. But that means I don't get to boast about everything I have seen. So I am creating a retroactive note to say yes, I did see the David Smith centennial at the Guggenheim on Sunday. Lots of welded steel and machismo.
David Smith is one of those artists that you cannot appreciate unless you picture America in his heyday, the 1950s and 60s. This reminds me of a photograph I once saw of an exhibition of Picasso's paintings. In the photograph, his familiar paintings were surrounded by people dressed in the clothes of the day (I think the women were even wearing gloves!), with 1930s-era cars passing by outside. Nothing could ever drive home the point more effectively - these artists were seen as lunatics in their time.
Speaking of Picasso (and since this is turning into a stream of consciousness), this reminds me of the time I picked up an art survey book (probably Gardner's) belonging to my grandmother, which must have been published in the 1950s or so. It ended with Picasso, and dismissed him as an upstart whose work would never endure.
No comments:
Post a Comment