Oh my. This is one of my favorite things, and it’s hard to put them together in my mind.
China: 7,000 Years of Discovery, a massive exhibit that toured the U.S. in the mid-80s as one of the first big cultural exchanges with the PRC. Its first stop was at the Pacific Science Center in Seattle, where my family was living at the time. Took over pretty much the entire PSC, as I recall, which impressed the hell out of me because it’s a several-building complex. (And the city repainted the monorails to look like dragons. ) But the susbstance still lingers: the ornate, early seismometer, shaped something like a huge samovar. At each compass point, a dragon held a ball in its mouth; upon the occurrence of an earthquake, the ball would drop into the open frog’s mouth below. It was credited with saving many lives by allowing imperial rescuers to know what line to travel in. Also huge, ornate, detailed maps, with sophisticated surveying instruments; enormously elaborate medical tools; advanced astronomical surveys. It was overwhelming.
Mondrian, at MOMA (New York), mid-90s. Mondrian is so easy to parody and even easier to misunderstand. The key is to have a lot of his work in one place at one time, arranged chronologically so you see how he distilled his art further and further, and then built it up again until his riotous last work, Broadway Boogie-Woogie. One brilliant stroke was the curators’ decision to play jazz throughout, since so much of what Mondrian was doing in his later years amounted to syncopating his art - playing intuitively with where the lines and boxes would appear, in variations similar to the contemporary jazz he listened to. The result, for me, was an AHA! in which I finally “got” him.
I actually returned at least twice - the second time, because MOMA had arranged to overlap briefly the Mondrian exhibit with a small, well-chosen Brancusi show. Viewing the two together made for an incredible experience, since it showed how each artist sought to express similar ideas through different media. Stunning.
Andreas Gursky, also at MOMA. Massive, meticulously composed, supersaturated phographs. Made me tingle. For a sample, take a look at this, only be sure to blow it up - and then imagine it at 11 feet wide by almost 7 feet tall. Jaw-droppingly intense.
Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence, now touring. (It’s now at the Detroit Institute of Arts, and will move on to the High Museum-Atlanta in June and the MOFA-Houston in October.) I missed it in DC but managed to catch the last weekend at the Whitney in New York - what an amazing thing. Lawrence, who died about two years ago, was recognized early on as a prodigious talent. His most famous early work, 60 paintings on wood collectively entitled “The Migration of the Negro,” so enthralled the world that Fortune Magazine ran 26 of them in one issue, and two collectors fought over it, finally coming to a resolution in which one purchased the even-numbered paintings and the other the odd. The even-numbered immediately went to MOMA and the odd to the Phillips Collection, Washington. This show is the first time the entire series has toured, in addition to about 150 other works.
New Yorkers can also see Lawrence’s last public commission: “New York in Transit,” a 36-foot-wide glass mosaic recently dedicated at the Times Square subway station. It’s above the staircase leading down to the the N/R track from the Grand Central shuttle.