I decided to go to MOMA to
see the Matisse show and then wandered over to what I consider one of the most
beautiful and poetic exhibitions of the year - not Matisse - but Robert Gober's
gut wrenching paintings, objects and installations entitled THE HEART IS NOT A
METAPHOR. His works transported me to tears, as I contemplated the tensile
fragility of an artist who juxtaposes everyday objects into worlds of extreme
delicacy and frailty – chronicling personal history tied to memory and a
narrative of pain and injustice, so lovingly crafted that I could feel his
touch on everything that I saw. Distance is bridged and we are confronted with
an acute sensitivity, evident in the caress of his brushwork in an early
painting that we first encounter upon entering the exhibition, when he was
still a young man. Robert Gober is an artist whose work reveals his innermost
self; his being is nakedly divulged and that rare authenticity is what so moves
us.
Matisse made me smile; I
really enjoyed watching a short film of the great man cutting shapes out of
paper - a certain vocabulary of forms kept repeating over and over - with VERY
large scissors. For ten years I did cutouts - totally different of course, with
none of Henri Matisse's lightness of being but using small scissors and razor
blades, so I was fascinated watching the “master” at work. He constructs a world in his apartment
that is sunny and bright -
colorful contours floating on the walls, doors, cutout remnants piled up on the
floor; having been pared down to their essence – flat and simplified with the
external beauty of gorgeous design and dare I say celebrating the
"bourgeois" spirit. I also giggled to myself watching his assistant,
a lovely young woman with bright red lipstick dressed in a gown, in high heels
helping the elderly artist cut and snip away - delicately holding the paper for
him - her fingers long and thin a replica of the slivers of paper curling onto
the floor. Many of the pieces seen in the movie were on the walls of the Museum
– a rich trove of Matisse’s work – including models for major commissions,
studies, etc. I was also intrigued that some of his commissions were from
collectors living in California often arranged by his son Pierre – a valuable
ally.
I felt fortunate to see two
artists – Matisse who died in 1954, and Robert Gober who was born that same
year - exhibiting together at the Museum of Modern Art; one disbursing the
cloudless luminosity of daylight, and the other the tender mysteries of the
night complete with stars and the infinite range of human experience.
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