Art Eyewitness Review: Tree & Serpent: Early Buddhist Art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

 

Tree & Serpent: Early Buddhist Art in India, 200 BCE-400 CE

Metropolitan Museum of Art 

July 21 - November 13, 2023

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

There is often a very thin line dividing an art museum gallery from a place of religious worship. One might almost describe it as an "open border" between the realm of the spirit and the secular world of scholarship and art appreciation.

On a number of occasions, I have felt something akin to a religious experience while visiting an art museum. This has occurred several times at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, notably in the spring of 2014 when I attended the press preview of Lost Kingdoms: Hindu-Buddhist Sculpture of Early Southeast Asia. I had such a powerful sense of being on "holy ground" that I forgot, for a brief moment or two, that I was at The Met.

When I saw the announcement that John Guy, the Met's internationally-renowned curator of Asian art who organized Lost Kingdoms, was working on a new exhibition, I was thrilled at the news. Perhaps anticipating more than was reasonable to expect, I wondered if I would have a similar epiphany.

At the July 17, 2023 preview of Tree & Serpent: Early Buddhist Art in India, 200 BCE-400 CE, I received a "yes and no" answer. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

     Gallery view of Tree & Serpent, showing a Dharmachakra, ca. 200

                                        

Yes, Tree & Serpent matches Lost Kingdoms in the number of stunning works of art on view. Many of these have never been presented outside of India and several are recent discoveries from the ongoing effort to uncover India's ancient past.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Drum Panel with Veneration of Relics,        

from the Dupadu Great Stūpa, ca. 1st century

Yes, John Guy and the curatorial team of The Met have created a striking display setting for the exhibition, based on the dome-shaped Buddhist structure known as the stūpa. As noted in the excellent catalog of Tree & Serpent, the majority of "the works of art presented here once formed an integral part of the adornment of this pivotal Buddhist monument that emerged - lotus like - from the earthen funerary mound that was the stūpa's genesis." 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Gallery view of Tree & Serpent, showing a model of a stūpa built by the Irwin S. Chanin School of Architecture, Cooper Union 

I had to pinch myself a couple of time to recall that this same gallery at The Met, only a few months ago, was the site for the equally astonishing exhibition, Lives of the Gods: Divinity in Maya Art. An entirely new realm, the world of Buddhism in its earliest years in southern India, is now on view in Gallery 999 at The Met.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Prayer service at the press preview of Tree & Serpent, 

conducted by monks from the New York Buddhist Vihara 

Also of note, The Met sponsored a prayer ceremony at the press preview, led by Buddhist monks from the New York Buddhist Vihara Foundation. These devout monks, who reside in a monastery in Queens, New York City, chanted sutras, the spoken words of the Buddha as recorded in Sri Lankan Buddhist tradition. It was a moving and unforgettable experience.

It was not an an epiphany, however. I did not have a moment of revelation or a deep personal sense of the sacred during my attendance at the press preview of Tree & Serpent. No offense intended to the great folks at The Met, especially the monks of the New York Buddhist Vihara!

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Buddha Offering Protection, 5th century, (left) and

Buddha Granting Boons, 5th-6th century; both from Andhra Pradesh

One of the reasons why I did not experience a soul-stirring encounter with the Divine might have been due to the fact that the serene statues of the Buddha are grouped together in the final display area of Tree & Serpent, as shown above. By the time, I reached this impressive array of statuary, I was dealing with a case of sensory overload.

Images of the contemplative Buddha are what most non-specialist art lovers, like myself, associate with Buddhist art. However, many of the works on view in Tree & Serpent are narrative bas-reliefs, teeming with figures or drama. These were affixed to the pillars, railings and walls of the stūpa shrines, providing visual accounts of the life and teachings of the Buddha, much as stained glass windows in the Gothic Cathedrals of medieval Europe recounted the Gospel stories about Jesus.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Drum Slab with Five Buddha Life Narratives (detail), 3rd century

Other statues on view depict deities only marginally related to the Buddha. These are nature spirits known as yakshas or yakshis or the goddess of abundance, Sri Lakshmi.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Gallery view of Tree & Serpent, showing a red sandstone statue 

of the Goddess of Abundance, Sri Lakshmi, 2nd century  

And then there is one of my favorite works of art in the exhibition, shown below. It may not have promoted a moment of revelation, but Elephants Venerating the Ramagrama Stupa certainly brought a smile to my face.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Pillar Abacus from Amaravati Great Stupa, showing

 Elephants Venerating the Ramagrama Stupa, 1st century

To be fair, museum exhibitions are not intended to create a spiritual state of mind or heart, though sometimes "spirit" does makes its presence felt. Instead, the task of curators is to reach back into time to present new insights about art, frequently with artifacts recently unearthed from archaeological sites, as is the case with Tree & Serpent. These are often unfamiliar to the general public, even unsettling on occasion. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Gallery view of Tree & Serpent, showing a railing coping fragment with lotus bloom carving from the Barhut Great Stupa, 150-100 BCE

In such instances, it takes a considerable amount of effort to evaluate and  appreciate these ancient, yet newly discovered, works of art.

The past does not always give up its secrets easily. There are certainly a number of exhibition objects in Tree & Serpent which require intensive study to comprehend. Even then, with the guidance of brilliant scholars like John Guy, the meanings or significance of some of these may still be difficult to determine. 

By way of example, let us look at the railing cover or coping from the Great Stūpa at Madhya Pradesh. It was carved from sandstone, dating to 150 to 100 BCE, and shows two men scaling a mountain. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Railing Coping from Bharhut Great Stupa, showing

 Forest Dwellers Scaling or Quarrying a Rock Face (detail), 150-100 BCE

The two men are forest dwellers. They carry wicker baskets on their backs and are grasping pegs which have been inserted into a mountain side. Behind the pair and beneath their feet is a sacred plant, a wish-fulfilling lotus vine. 

Clearly, something of import is happening, but the exact meaning still eludes a definitive solution. Are the men scaling a mountain in search of treasure to bring back to deposit in honor of the Buddha in a stūpa? Or are they quarrying rock to construct a stūpa, durable stone being reserved for building sacred shrines?

This scene almost certainly illustrates a jataka tale, one of a vast corpus of stories and fables related to the Buddha. Many carved bas-relief narratives like this cannot be matched with texts of jataka tales. Other images brilliantly correspond to written jataka texts.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

  Pillar Medallion from Bharhut Great Stupa, showing

 The Mugapakkha-jataka, 150-100 BCE

The Mugapakkha-jataka, depicted in the railing pillar medallion shown above, tells the story of a prince (the Buddha in disguise) who takes a vow of silence, due to his previous life transgressions. The prince's father, fearing disaster, orders the prince to be slain. But the royal chariot driver recognizes the prince as the future Buddha and spares his life. The prince's parents come to realize his divinity too and venerate him. 

This jataka scene, which dates to the same period as the mysterious tableau of the forest dwellers, is a masterpiece of story-telling, concise, coherent and beautifully carved. If it requires a bit of effort to comprehend, this version of the Mugapakkha-jataka is a tremendously appealing work of art and a treasure of spiritual awareness

The religious art of one culture often includes imagery which people of a different faith experience may find difficult to accept. Western people, raised in the Judeo-Christian tradition, and Buddhists view snakes from very different perspectives. The snake, seen as a treacherous deceiver in the Holy Bible's Book of Genesis, is viewed much more positively in Buddhism.

When we see the multi-headed cobra rearing-up on the carved railing pillar (below), we are witnessing a caring, nurturing deed rather than a dangerous reptile about to strike. The hooded-head of the snake acts like an umbrella shielding the Buddha from a dangerous storm.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Railing Pillar with Naga Mucalinda protecting the Buddha

 (detail), 2nd-1st century, BC 

The protective cobra is known as the Naga Mucalinda. In these scenes, the Buddha often is not physically present, but is represented by a pair of footprints or by an empty throne, as shown above, encircled by the coils of the snake's body.

This Naga Mucalnda scene is one of the most ancient works of Buddhist art on view in Tree and Serpent. The early date is significant. So is the geographic locale of its creation: southern India, in the region known as the Deccan.

What we see on the walls and display cases of the Met's Gallery 999 is nothing less than the visual representation of the birth of Buddhism. In many of the works on view, we glimpse elements of earlier nature-based religious cults, including the worship of snake deities, which were incorporated into Buddhism as it developed in the Deccan, remote from cultural contact with outside civilizations. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Gallery views of Tree & Serpent. The bottom photo shows Torana architraves, a lion in front, with an elephant behind, 3rd-4th century 

Later, as the exhibition shows, there was significant mercantile contact with the Roman Empire. But Tree & Serpent is essentially an epic exhibit about India. The generous participation of the Indian government and Indian museums in organizing Tree & Serpent deserves the highest praise and appreciation. 

Tree & Serpent is also the story of the birth or rebirth of art in India, since very few works of art survived the long centuries before the rise of Buddhism. As the devout disciples of the Buddha built stūpa shrines across vast stretches of the Deccan, they encircled these sacred buildings with carved depictions of the Buddha's life which have endured the test of time and - some of them - now hang on the walls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

   Drum Panel with Stupa Veneration and Seminal Buddh-life events        

from the Dupadu Great Stūpa, ca. 1st century

I intend to follow this review with a second essay focusing on the statues of the Buddha in the exhibition's concluding display. But for now, I want to reflect and meditate on all the wonderful treasures of art and spirituality I saw in Tree & Serpent. 

I have the feeling that I may experience an epiphany, after all. 

***

Text copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved.

Images copyright of Anne Lloyd, all rights reserved.

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Railing Pillar with Naga Mucalinda Pillar Protecting the Buddhapada (detail), ca. 150-100 BCE. Sandstone: H. 64 15/16 in. (165 cm), W. 12 5/8 in. (32 cm), D. 15 3/4 in. (23 cm) Lent by Allahabad Museum, Prayagraj, Uttar Pradesh

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery view of the Tree & Serpent exhibition, with Dharmachakra, ca. 200. copper-alloy:  H. 12 3/4 in. (32.4 cm.) W. 7 3/4 in. (19.7 cm.) Diam. 8 in. (20.3 cm). Lent by Bihar Museum, Patna, India

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Drum Panel with Veneration of Relics, ca. 1^st century. Limestone: H. 67 5/16 in. (171 cm). W. 40 5/16 in. (104 cm). D. 6 11/16 in. (17 cm). Lent by Amaravati Heritage Center and Museum, Andhra  Pradesh.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery view of Tree & Serpent, showing a model of a stūpa built by the Irwin S. Chanin School of Architecture, Cooper Union

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Prayer ceremony at the press preview of Tree & Serpent, conducted by the monks from New York Buddhist Vihara Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Buddha Offering Protection, 5th century, (left) Copper alloy: H. 16 in. (40.6 cm) W. 5 ¼ in. (13.3 cm) d. 4 ½ in. (11.4 cm) Metropolitan Museum collection; and Buddha Granting Boons, 5th-6th century. Copper alloy: H. 12 1/2 in. (41.7 cm) W. 3 15/16 in. (10 cm) d. 3 1/8 in. (8 cm) British Museum collection.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Drum slab with Five Buddha-life Narratives (detail), 3^rd century. Limestone: H. 78 3/8 in. (199 cm). W. 39 3/8 in. (100 cm). D. 8 1/4 in. (21 cm). Lent by Archaeological Museum, ASI, Nagarjunakonda, Andra Pradesh.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery view of Tree and Serpent, showing showing a red sandstone statue of the Goddess of Abundance, Sri Lakshmi, 2nd century.  Lent by the National Museum, New Delhi.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Elephants Venerating the Ramagrama Stupa, late 1st  century. Limestone: H. 12 13/16 in. (32.5 cm) W. 25 3/4 in. (68 cm) d. 16 9/16 in. (42 cm) British Museum collection.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery view of Tree and Serpent, showing a railing coping fragment with lotus bloom carving from the Barhut Great Stupa, 150-100 BCE.  

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Railing Coping from Bharhut Great Stupa, showing Forest Dwellers Scaling or Quarrying a Rock Face (detail), 150-100 BCE. Sandstone: H. 13 3/4 in. (35 cm), W. 61 13/16 in. (157 cm), D. 10 1/4 in. (26 cm) Lent by National Museum, New Delhi.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Railing Pillar Medallion with Mugapakkha-jataka, c. 150-100 BCE. Sandstone: H. 24 13/16 in. (63 cm). W. 22 1/16 in. (56 cm). D. 6 5/16 in. (16 cm). Lent by India Museum, Kolkata.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Railing Pillar with Naga Mucalinda, 2^nd-1^st century, BC. Sandstone: : H. 43 5/16 in. (110 cm). W. 21 5/8 in. (55 cm). D. 19 1/2 in. (53 cm). Lent by National Museum, Delhi.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery views of Tree and Serpent. The bottom photo shows Torana Architraves, a lion in front, with an elephant behind, 3rd-4th century.  Lent by Department of Heritage, Telangana.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Drum Panel with Stupa Veneration and Seminal Buddha-life events, 1^st century. Limestone: H. 64 9/16 in. (164 cm). W. 45 ¼ in. (115 cm). D. 6 in. (22 cm). Lent by Amaravati Heritage Center & Museum, Andhra Pradesh.

Art Eyewitness Review: Van Gogh's Cypresses at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

 

Van Gogh's Cypresses

Metropolitan Museum of Art

thru August 27, 2023

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

The ingenuity of museum curators in conceiving and mounting exhibitions is one of the most remarkable aspects of today's art scene. Exhaustive research, savvy display techniques and a sensitive awareness of the relevance of yesterday's art to the concerns of today - these are essential attributes in a curator's toolkit.

Occasionally, though, even the most inventive and perceptive curators can miss the mark. A topic for an important exhibition somehow evades their consideration, leaving this subject "hiding in plain sight." Such was the case of Van Gogh's Cypresses - until recently.

Now in the final days of a hugely popular exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, Van Gogh's Cypresses was certainly worth the wait.

Once Van Gogh reached the south of France in the late winter of 1888, cypress trees appear again and again in his paintings. He recorded their presence in sketches and paintings, initially as an "everyday" feature of life, as in his lovely depiction of the Langlois Drawbridge.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Vincent van Gogh's Drawbridge, 1888

Following his emotional breakdown in December 1888, Van Gogh entered the St. Paul Asylum in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, staying there from May 1889 to May 1890. One might have thought that his seclusion in the asylum would have deprived him from viewing the stately cypresses. Instead, from the window of a workroom fitted out for him as a studio, Van Gogh caught sight of the tall, austere, dark green trees and painted them with unforgettable effect.  

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Vincent van Gogh's A Wheatfield with Cypresses, 1889

Vincent van Gogh, Illustrated Letter to Theo van Gogh, June 25, 1889

In a June 1889 letter to his brother, Theo, from Saint-Rémy, Van Gogh commented:

"The cypresses still preoccupy me, I’d like to do something with them like the canvases of the sunflowers because it astonishes me that no one has yet done them as I see them. It’s beautiful as regards lines and proportions, like an Egyptian obelisk. And the green has such a distinguished quality."

Van Gogh was as good as his word. He did treat cypresses as he had previously immortalized sunflowers. And he was right to to be astonished that "no one has yet done them as I see them."

Given the intensive study devoted to Van Gogh's oeuvre - with an eye to a hosting special exhibitions - one can only wonder why it has taken so long to place Van Gogh's depictions of cypress trees on the center stage. Yet, let's give credit where it is due. The curators at the Met saw the potential for a Van Gogh blockbuster and seized the opportunity. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Gallery view of Van Gogh's Cypresses at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Visually, Van Gogh's Cypresses is a delight to behold. Much of the appeal of this exhibition comes from enjoying a spectacular array of Van Gogh's most beloved paintings, side-by-side. Many of these works have not appeared together since Van Gogh dispatched his finished canvases to be stored in the apartment of his brother, Theo, in Paris.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Gallery view of Van Gogh's Cypresses, appearing at right is

 Farmhouse among Olive Trees, 1889

Yet, Van Gogh's Cypresses, is much more than a beautiful exhibition or an interesting side-bar to the major themes of the Dutch painter's art. Van Gogh's "preoccupation" with cypress trees relates directly to his problematic relationship with nature - and with God. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Van Gogh's Still Life with Oranges and Lemons with Blue Gloves, 1889

Van Gogh was well aware of the growing interest in finding and expressing symbolical meaning in nature. But, despite the influence of Paul Gauguin and Emile Bernard, Van Gogh held back from joining the Symbolists. He was  apprehensive about heeding "the language of painters." Instead, as he commented to Theo, it is the "language of nature which one should listen to, the feeling for the things themselves, for reality is more important than the feeling for pictures."

Cypress trees complicated the issue because, since time immemorial, they had figured as a symbol of death and mourning. In the literature of Greece and Rome, the cypress tree was associated with Hades, god of the Underworld, and the three Fates. 

The Hebrew Bible was more upbeat in regarding the cypress tree, which, along with the myrtle, was regarded as a sign of God's favor. 

"Cypress trees will grow where now there are briers; myrtle trees will come up in place of thorns," proclaimed the prophet Isaiah (55:13). "This will be a sign that will last forever, a reminder of what I, the Lord, have done."

Van Gogh had turned against organized religion by the time he journeyed to Provence. But his early exposure to Bible-based culture continued to resonate in his work. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Vincent van Gogh's Orchard Bordered by Cypresses, 1888

Just as the tall cypress trees loomed over the blossoming orchards in several of his works on view in the Met exhibit, so the cypress served as a "reminder of I, the Lord" in Van Gogh's inner-struggle as he sought meaning in the depiction of nature.

Even as Van Gogh dedicated himself to transcribe "the language of nature", a palpable sense of the numinous, the voice of God, asserted its presence. To a varying degree, this spark of divinity radiates from almost every painting in the Met's exhibition. And no work on view, not even Starry Night, expresses this more powerfully than County Road in Provence by Night.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Vincent van Gogh's County Road in Provence by Night, 1890

Van Gogh painted this tall, roadside cypress as he prepared to leave Saint-Rémy in May 1890. He had wanted to record its image since coming to Provence and it is easy to see why. Its color, stately shape and position next to a well-traveled country lane make for an image pulsating with life.

That's my interpretation of this key painting of the Van Gogh Cypresses exhibit. However, several scholars have taken a completely opposite approach to this work. They maintain that there are numerous signs in Country Road in Provence by Night that Van Gogh, still emotionally brittle despite a year of care and therapy, was passing under the shadow of death.

Van Gogh certainly was experiencing depression when he left Saint-Rémy. But it needs to be emphasized that his mental and spiritual state cannot be definitively deduced from one or another of his paintings. 

If there are premonitions of death in County Road in Provence by Night, then it should be noted that one of Van Gogh's most life-affirming paintings had been created only a few weeks before. This was Almond Blossom, painted for his infant nephew and namesake who was born in January 1890. 

Despite a serious emotional lapse shortly after finishing Almond Blossom, Van Gogh continued to wrestle with his need, "to believe in God, for me is to feel that there is a God, not a dead one, or a stuffed one but a living one, who with irresistible force, urges us toward aimer encore...."

Aimer encore. To love again. Van Gogh wrote those words to Theo in 1881. Nearly a decade later, he was still striving, despite great personal travail, to aimer encore.

In a letter to Theo and his wife, Jo, written less than a month before his death in Jury 1890, Van Gogh affirmed that "I still love art and life very much."

 So, what are we to make of Van Gogh's preoccupation with cypress trees?

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Vincent van Gogh's The Little Stream, 1889

Ironically, the fact that the cypress tree was ubiquitous in Provence gave the tree a mundane, "everyday" aspect. Other artists might ignore them, concentrating on mountain views and other romantic vistas. Not so for Van Gogh.  

On November 26, 1889, while still undergoing treatment in Saint-Rémy, Van Gogh wrote to Theo, comparing cypresses to the familiar willow tree back home in the Netherlands:  

You know that willows are very picturesque, despite the fact that it appears monotonous, it's the tree typical of the country.  Now what the willow is in our native country, the olive tree and the cypress have exactly the same importance here.

Van Gogh gained these insights into the nature of the cypress, observing these trees "typical" of  the countryside of Provence from the windows of the asylum. He painted a series of views of an enclosed wheat field with a nearby grove of cypresses. This was visible from his bedroom. 

I am familiar with the painting in the series, from the collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, showing the scene during an autumn 1889 rain shower. The Met's exhibit shows one from the Ny Glyoptek in Denmark. It shows the ears of wheat caressed by the wind with the cypress trees off in the distance.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Van Gogh's Landscape from Saint-Rémy, 1889

It is a fairly lackluster scene in all weather. Likewise, the appearance of the cypress trees -"the tree typical of the country" - is hardly worthy of note.  In fact, this view from Van Gogh's room is distinctly unspectacular, routine, mundane, commonplace...

 But for Van Gogh, struggling to regain his sanity and to express his faith in God and nature, this small patch of the universe, was his sole remaining window onto the world.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

 Van Gogh's Trees in the Garden of the Asylum (detail), 1889

The same list of negative descriptors could be applied to the cypress. As we saw earlier, Van Gogh himself described the cypress as monotonous in appearance. Yet there was the cypress at every turn, pushing its roots down into the soil of Provence. Deeply anchored, it could resist the tumultuous Mistrel winds and then find moisture to survive the sun-parched months of summer.

A symbol of resilience in nature, the cypress became the visual testament to Vincent van Gogh's courageous efforts to find redemption as an artist and as a man. Art lovers may prefer Van Gogh's golden sunflowers but it is the images of Van Gogh's Cypresses which come to mind when we reflect on the poignant, almost valedictory words which he wrote to Theo and Jo,  "I still love art and life very much."

***.

Text copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved.

Images copyright of Anne Lloyd, all rights reserved.

Introductory image: Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh’s County Road in Provence by Night (detail), 1890. Artwork details, see below.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh's Drawbridge, 1888. Oil on canvas: 19 ½ x 25 ¼ in. (49.5 x 64 cm) Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne, Germany.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh's A Wheatfield with Cypresses, 1889. Oil on canvas: 28 3/8 x 35 7/8 in. (72.1 x 90.9 cm) National Gallery, London.

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) Illustrated Letter to Theo van Gogh, June 25, 1889. Pen and ink on paper: 8 ¼ x 10 5/8 in. (21 x 27 cm) Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery view of Van Gogh's Cypresses at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Gallery view of Van Gogh's Cypresses, appearing at right is Vincent van Gogh’s Farmhouse among Olive Trees, 1889. Oil on canvas: 27 5/8 x 23 5/8 in. (70 x 60 cm) Private Collection, Larry Ellison.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh’s Still Life with Oranges and Lemons with Blue Gloves, 1889. Oil on canvas: 18 7/8 x 24 ½ in. (48 x 62 cm) National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh’s Orchard Bordered by Cypresses, 1888. Oil on canvas: 25 5/8 x 32 in. (64.9 x 81.2 cm) Kroller-Muller Museum, Otterlo, The Netherlands.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh’s County Road in Provence by Night, 1890. Oil on canvas: 35 3/8 x 28 3/8 in. (90.6 x 72 cm) Kroller-Muller Museum, Otterlo, The Netherlands.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh’s The Little Stream, 1889. Oil on canvas: 10 x 13 ¼ in. (25.4 x 33.7 cm) Starr Insurance Companies.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh’s Landscape from Saint-Rémy, 1889. Oil on canvas: 27 ¾ x 34 7/8 in. (70.5 x 88.5 cm) Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023) Vincent van Gogh's Trees in the Garden of the Asylum (detail), 1889. Oil on canvas: 26 3/8 x 20 ¼ in. (67 x 51.4 cm) Private collection.

Living Art: Art Eyewitness Tenth Anniversary

Living Art

Art Eyewitness Tenth Anniversary
2013-2023

By Ed Voves

Photos by Anne Lloyd

Ten years, by most standards of reckoning, is not a long time. In terms of recorded history, a decade represents less than a blink of the eye. Much less.

Yet, for most people, as they plant their footsteps on the path of life, ten years is a significant stretch of time. For art movements or literary journals, which often have remarkably brief life spans, to celebrate a tenth anniversary is a big deal.

All of this rumination is by way of announcing that Art Eyewitness is now ten years old. 

To find an appropriate "signature" picture to introduce our anniversary presented a bit of a quandary. How do you represent the progression of time by means of a single image? 

Classic Hollywood movies used to denote the passing years on film by showing short sequences of ocean waves washing ashore, autumn leaves whirling in the wind or grains of sand in an hour glass. A single still photo or illustration of this sort would not work at all in an anniversary "think" piece for Art Eyewitness.

Fortunately, my wife Anne provided a pair of pictures that suits the occasion perfectly. With her trusty "point and shoot" camera, Anne brilliantly evokes art's ability to freely traverse the corridors of time.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2022)

View of Leo Villereal's Multiverse, 2008, at the National Gallery of Art

 

During a recent trip to the National Gallery in Washington D.C., Anne snapped a couple of quick pictures of Multiverse. Installed in 2008, Leo Villereal's light "sculpture" uses 41,000 LED lights to transform the moving walkway in the concourse of the National Gallery into a portal to the Cosmos. Like stepping into Heraclitus' river, each venture through the Multiverse leads to unique experiences of art at the National Gallery. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2022)

Gallery view of Sargent and Spain at the National Gallery of Art,

 showing John Singer Sargent's La Carmencita Dancing

The journey of Art Eyewitness over the past ten years has endeavored to explore the visual arts in a similar "moving" fashion. Art Eyewitness is a venture into a creative realm which is both ageless and ever-changing. The images and insights which fill our eyes and minds, Anne and I share with like-minded souls.

The images which we share are not entirely derived from visits to art museums and reviewing special exhibitions. Occasionally, we have included some exceptional examples of Anne's street photography and we plan to investigate this fascinating genre in the future.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2021)

Butterfly and Zinnia, 2021 

Originally, Art Eyewitness aimed to include classic films in its repertoire. Copyright fees, even for still photos from vintage movies, are way beyond the means of a "mom and pop" non-profit blog like ours. The same is true for pictures of works of modern and  contemporary art. 

Two factors have saved Art Eyewitness from being "stuck" in the past.

The greatly appreciated support of publishers, especially Thames and Hudson, has provided a stream of books for review and selected images on topics which, otherwise, we could never have addressed.

Modern Art in Detail, by Susie Hodge (Thames & Hudson, 2017)  

The second factor involves the person closest to my heart. It was my wife, Anne, who encouraged me to start Art Eyewitness. The wonderful internet journal I was writing for, the California Literary Review, ceased publication in the spring of 2013. Anne was immediate and inspiring in her response to the sad tidings.

"Start your own art blog!"

Rather hesitantly, I agreed. But what really got "the ball rolling" were the sensational gallery photos that Anne began to take in the summer of 2015. It is Anne's photos which put the "eyewitness" in Art Eyewitness! 

This was never more true than at the Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman and Designer exhibition and the press preview of the David Hockney retrospective, both from 2017 at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2017)

   Gallery view of the Michelangelo exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2017)

David Hockney at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Nov. 20, 2017

Anne has certainly not rested on her photographic laurels since 2017. Almost every Art Eyewitness review includes "you are there" photos, placing you, the reader, in the exhibition gallery with us.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Gallery view of the Of God and Country exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, showing S.L Jones' Preacher and His Wife

It is vital to note that the Art Eyewitness "journey" has been facilitated by the incredible generosity of curators and public relations staff at the museums which Anne and I visit. 

The list is long - the National Gallery, the Metropolitan Museum, the Morgan Library & Museum, the Neue Gallerie, MOMA, the Jewish Museum of NY, the Phillips Collection, the Barnes Foundation, the Philadelphia Museum of Art and many more. 

To all of the wonderful people on the museum staffs who make Art Eyewitness possible, our gratitude is lasting and profound. 

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2018)

From left: Nichole R. Myers, Dallas Museum of Art, Sylvie Patry, Musee d'Orsay and Cindy Kang of the Barnes Foundation 

I wish that I could include a survey of the photos which Anne has taken, over the years, of art curators and conservators at work. As that is impossible, I have chosen the above photo to illustrate this theme. The charm, intelligence and dedication of the curators of the 2018 Berthe Morisot exhibition at the Barnes Foundation stands for all.

Art Eyewitness launched its journey in July 2013. Our first essay was a review of Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes, 1909-1929, at the National Gallery. Before orchestrating the great dance series which exerted such a profound influence on modern art, Sergei Diaghilev had edited a journal dedicated to art history, Mir iskusstva, meaning "World of Art." 

The title was well-chosen. Diaghilev sincerely believed that art could affect society-at-large in new and inspiring ways. Working like a man possessed, Diaghilev devoted himself to translating vision into reality.

Jean Cocteau's Poster for the Ballets Russes, 1913

After several years of sensational success with the Ballets Russes, Diaghilev's hopes for a "world of art" were dashed by the outbreak of World War I. The Bolshevik Revolution and the Influenza Epidemic of 1918 followed in a chain of disaster which eventually led to even more, unspeakable, horrors. 

Today, as the world continues to grapple with the effects of the Covid-19 Pandemic and the outbreak of a major war in Europe, we seem to be reliving the experience of Diaghilev and his generation. Hopefully my fears are exaggerated, but there are many well-informed commentators writing in this vein, too.

Art and adversity are certainly no strangers. One needs to remember that - constantly.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2020)

The Rainbow Portrait of Queen Elizabeth I 

 Attributed to Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, ca. 1602

Reflecting on my visits to the 2022 exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Tudors: Art and Majesty, I am reminded of the contrast between courtly splendor and actual living conditions. The final years of the reign of Elizabeth I, ca.1600, were a positively wretched time for many in England and throughout Europe. Yet Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Twelfth Night and Hamlet, Caravaggio's greatest paintings including The Calling of St. Matthew (1599-1600) and Supper at Emmaus (1601) and Cervantes' Don Quixote, Part I (published in 1605) all date to this tormented period.

The spring and summer months of 2020 brought a comparable time of suffering to our doorsteps. It is too early to dispassionately judge works of art or books created during the three years of the Covid-19 crisis and contrast them with those mentioned above from the turn of the seventeenth century. Spring Cannot be Cancelled by David Hockney and Martin Gayford is certainly a worthy response to the Covid crisis which deserves to be so considered. 

Time, the stern and capricious arbitrator of merit, will tell. But I believe that one judgment can be made - without hesitation. The art museum community rendered invaluable service as Covid-19 threatened the norms of cultural life and emotional well-being.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2020)

Empty gallery, Spring 2020, at the National Gallery of Art,

 showing paintings by Edgar Degas

As art institutions closed in mid-March 2020, a widespread network of museum staff members - museum directors, curators, IT and public relations specialists - responded to the crisis by providing "virtual" access to great works of art, historical archives, digital tours of museum galleries and much more. 

An Art Eyewitness essay I wrote at the time, focusing on the efforts of the Metropolitan Museum, gives a brief survey of the initiatives which shared a wide array of art resources with the public. This devotion to art lovers, everywhere, was undertaken when museum staff members had to deal with anxiety, sickness and privation in their own lives, too. 

The human toll of Covid-19 was "brought home" to me at the press preview of New York: 1962-1964. On a scorching day in July 2022, Anne and I traveled to the Jewish Museum of New York for the opening of this major exhibit. I was primed for a superb display of mid-century American art, but the unforgettable moment of the press event came during remarks by the director of the Jewish Museum, Claudia Gould.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2022)

Claudia Gould, Director of the Jewish Museum, July 20, 2022 

Ms. Gould seemed "out-or-sorts" as she came to the podium. During her remarks, her voice bespoke of sorrow and emotional distress. Ms. Gould described how the New York: 1962-1964 exhibition had been planned and organized by one of the great art scholars and curators of our contemporary era, Germano Celant.

Germano Celant, born in Italy in 1940, was a significant figure in the art world since the late 1960's. He was a major proponent of the Arte Povera movement and had been a curator for several years at the Guggenheim Museum in New York. His abundant talents and experience made Celant the perfect choice to lead the design of an exhibition devoted to the Manhattan art scene in the "Sixties."

As he worked on the New York: 1962-1964 exhibit, Celant contracted the Corona virus and died, aged 79. Celant's shocking death could well have derailed the entire project, but Gould and the curators at the Jewish Museum rose to the challenge. New York: 1962-1964 was truly an outstanding exhibition, an example of triumph arising from tragedy.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2022)

        Gallery view of New York: 1962-1964 at the Jewish Museum, showing Kenneth Noland's Tropical Zone, 1964.

As the Covid crisis abated and museums reopened, exhibitions which devoted curators had worked on during the "lockdown" began to go on display. One of the earliest and most significant was Winslow Homer: Crosscurrents. This exhibit appeared at the Met during the spring and summer of 2022, later travelling to the National Gallery in London.

Ed Voves, (Photo 2022)

        Gallery view of Winslow Homer: Crosscurrents at the Metropolitan Museum, showing Homer's The Gulf Stream, 1899.

The key painting of Winslow Homer: Crosscurrents was The Gulf Stream. This stunning work shows an African-American sailor in a battered schooner, menaced by sharks and an approaching storm. Will the crew of a ship in the distance see him and come to his rescue? However the viewer answers that question, there is no doubt that The Gulf Stream is a relevant painting for the travail of our time, as it was for Homer's.

Winslow Homer (1836-1910) first gained renown as an illustrator for Harper's Weekly. His experience recording the American Civil War led Homer to take  unexpected paths in his art. Many of his post-war paintings record the lives of melancholy young women who may have lost husbands or lovers in the Civil War, courageous seamen and their families, menaced by deadly storms, and African-Americans grappling with racial oppression. 

Homer's empathy for people confronting adversity is being carried on by the efforts of curators and art historians. A concerted effort is underway to present exhibitions of the work of artists - African-Americans, women, immigrants, "working-class" people - previously denied opportunity and fair treatment. 

Ed Voves, (Photo 2019)

    Gallery view of Augusta Savage: Renaissance Women at the New York Historical Society. Boy on a Stump, ca. 1930, in the foreground. 

Art Eyewitness has been pleased to review a number of these, including the much-needed reappraisal of Augusta Savage, whose brilliant sculptures are among the greatest works of art created during the Harlem Renaissance. This exhibition appeared at the New York Historical Society (NYHS) during 2019. 

The NYHS later mounted an exhibit devoted the German immigrant, Winold Reiss, an amazingly versatile artist whose sensitive portraits of the leaders and community figures of the Harlem Renaissance complemented Savage's sculptures to perfection. Both were superbly designed shows, worthy additions to the long list of outstanding exhibitions at the NYHS.

The Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia deserves special recognition for its exhibitions devoted to self-taught artists - and a happy 100th birthday salute from Art Eyewitness.

Ed Voves, (Photo 2020)

        Elijah Pierce's Your Life is a Book, ca. 1940's, displayed at 

the Barnes Foundation's 2020 exhibition, Elijah Pierce's America

Among its recent, stellar exhibitions, the Barnes has documented the achievements of Elijah Pierce and William Edmundson. These African-American sculptors, working during the early decades of the twentieth century, not only blazed a trail for later generations but powerfully demonstrated the importance of religious beliefs and community values in the creation of meaningful art.

Trying to strike a balance in an appraisal of ten years of art exhibitions - and nearly three hundred reviews and essays - is not the easiest of endeavors. There is always the temptation to try and comment on this or that exhibit to make sure that the early years or a favorite artist receive their due. 

I am going to resist adding to the length of an already long anniversary essay. Instead, I will mention one more exhibit and call it a "wrap."

During the autumn of 2018, the Neue Gallerie in New York devoted a special exhibition to the German Expressionists, Franz Marc and August Macke. I had hoped for years that these artists, both killed in World War I, would be the subject of a thorough examination, especially one that enabled viewers to grasp the spiritual, almost mystical, elements of their art. The Neue Gallerie exhibition lived up to my hopes and then some.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2018)

Franz Marc's Deer in the Forest II, 1914

Franz Marc is famous for valuing animals as spiritual beings. His inseparable companion was a Siberian Shepherd dog named "Russi" whom he painted several times, including a "metaphysical" portrait entitled Hund vor der Welte or How a Dog Sees the World. 

Human beings see the world, partly through the prism of art. But animals and art museums are not a good fit. Or so I thought.

Recently, Anne and I were paying a return visit to Whistler's Mother now on special loan to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. To our very great surprise, we watched as a fellow patron calmly walk down the grand staircase, with a Golden Retriever in hand.

   Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2023)

Gallery views of Philadelphia Museum of Art, June 26, 2023

We were incredulous, but nobody else seemed to mind, including the several guards in the vicinity.  My guess is that the fellow with the dog trains service animals. It was all I could do to keep from asking, but I making it a rule never to intrude on someone else's art "moment."

Then the guy with the Golden Retriever ambled into the gallery to spend some quality time with Whistler's Mother. 

 

It was all so natural, so unscripted. They came. They saw. And, after a few moments of art appreciation, they went. 

Franz Marc would have loved this art moment. Russi would have loved it too. Anne and I certainly did.

I have the zany thought that Franz Marc would have painted a picture of the scene and called it Hund vor der Kunst! 

So how would a dog see "art"?

If this gentle, well behaved Golden is any indication, art would be regarded as a part of life, a daily ritual that is both a necessity and something to be enjoyed. See it, embrace the moment and move on.

So, instead of a quote from Kenneth Clark or Andre Malroux to bring this essay to a close, I'm serving-up these images of art as an element of everyday life. Anne and I have been doing this for ten years and aim to keep on for as long as we can make it up the art museum steps.

From Art Eyewitness, thanks for ten great years.

 ***

Text copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                           

Images copyright of Anne Lloyd, all rights reserved

Introductory image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) View of Leo Villereal's Multiverse, 2008, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of the Sargent and Spain at the National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C., showing John Singer Sargent's La Carmencita Dancing, 1890.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2021) Butterfly and Zinnia, 2021.

Modern Art in Detail: 75 Masterpieces by Susie Hodge, 2017 (cover) Image credit: Thames & Hudson

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2017) Gallery view of Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman and Designer, 2017, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2017) David Hockney at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, November 20, 2017.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2023) Gallery view of the Of God and Country exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, showing S.L. Jones' Preacher and Wife, date unknown.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Nichole R. Myers, Dallas Museum of Art, Sylvie Patry, Musee d'Orsay, and Cindy Kang of the Barnes Foundation, curators of the Berthe Morisot exhibition at the Barnes Foundation.

Jean Cocteau (French, 1889-1963) Poster advertising Nijinsky with the Ballet Russes, Theatre des Champs Elysees, Paris 1913. Printed poster: 189 cm x 129 cm. Collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) The Rainbow Portrait of Queen Elizabeth I. Attributed to Marcus Gheerearts the Younger, Ca. 1602.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) Empty Gallery, Spring 2020, at the National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C., showing paintings by Edgar Degas.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Claudia Gould, Director of the Jewish Museum, New York, July 20, 2022.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of New York: 1962-1964, at the Jewish Museum, New York, showing Kenneth Noland's Tropical Zone, 1964.

Ed Voves, Photo (2022) Gallery view of Winslow Homer: Crosscurrents at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing Homer's The Gulf Stream, 1899.

Ed Voves, Photo (2019) Gallery view of Augusta Savage: Renaissance Woman at the New York Historical Society, showing Boy on a Stump, ca. 1930. 

Ed Voves, Photo (2020) Elijah Pierce's Your Life is a Book, ca. 1940's, displayed at the Barnes Foundation's 2020 exhibition, Elijah Pierce's America.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Franz Marc's Deer in the Forest II, 1914, on view at the Neue Gallerie exhibition, Franz Marc and Auguste Macke, 1909-1914.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery views of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, June 26, 2023. Sequence of four photos.