Matisse at MoMA

I've always been a huge fan of Henri Matisse's work so I was pleased to find myself today at MoMA to see Matisse: Radical Invention, 1913-1917. Their composition and color are about the sheer joy of experience, and to see some works in person which I had never seen before, was an inspiring way to end the summer this Labor Day. The images, completed during WWI and the cubist era, had a richness that surprised me, especially Interior with Goldfish. The images that struck me most were his interior scenes, with glimpses of Parisian street scenes out the window. The surface of the canvas, with layers of paint peeking out from underneath each other, were darker than his earlier fauvist work and served to bridge one era of his work to the next. The show runs until October 11th.

The Dance

My plan was to do an entry on surreal-- and quite disturbing-- 1930's photographer Hans Bellmer. His images of twisted female mannequins are riveting and prescient, considering how a woman's body has become a grotesque commodity. Once I started the entry, it just didn't feel right-- that it somehow didn't fit with my March mode. Instead, I turn to Matisse and The Dance. One of my favorite paintings at the MoMA, its composition swirls the viewer's eye around the canvas, swinging up a leg, around an arm, sweeping the eye from one end of the image to the other. And don't you just love the dancer in the foreground who seems to lose her balance? The nude figures become less about being the object of desire and more about the joy of the motion. Even the ground dances underneath them in celebration. That image seems much more in line with where I stand, or shall I say dance, tonight.

Matisse and Picasso

There has been much talk of the rivalry between the two artists in art history circles. Which artist had better a sense of color? Who was more skillful with the pen? Of course Picasso's prolific and extensive career brought innumerable innovations, but one cannot forget Matisse's ability to capture the essence of a woman's face, even her whole identity, with a few simple lines. One thing they could agree on was a love of birds. Who can blame them?