Title : Presenting. . . Modigliani and other Painters. . . and my Memory Prompts
link : Presenting. . . Modigliani and other Painters. . . and my Memory Prompts
Presenting. . . Modigliani and other Painters. . . and my Memory Prompts
In the French classes I've been taking, students give a ten-minute presentation on a subject of their choice. Last week, two students presented, and one of those focused on the artist Amadeo Modigliani. Accompanied by photographs she brought up on her laptop, this student's brief survey of Modigliani's work was both informative and engaging, her passion for the artist's paintings, drawings, and sculptures evident throughout. She also expressed regret that he hadn't had the long lifetime of, say, Picasso, and wondered what Modigliani might have accomplished if he'd had another thirty or forty years instead of only 36 (born in Livorno, Italy in 1884, he died in Paris in 1920 -- and throughout his life, was dogged by illness undoubtedly exacerbated by poverty).
My fellow student's excitement about Modigliani, and her musings on the tragedy of his short, but prolific, life sent me home thinking about two exhibitions I've been lucky enough to see in Paris over the years. One, just last November, was a magnificent exhibition of the works of Egon Schiele and of Jean-Michel Basquiat. I'll tell/show you more about that soon, but will just say, for now, that the connection I make between Modigliani, Schiele, and Basquiat is that all three were phenomenally prolific from a relatively young age, but all three artistic lives were sadly truncated (Basquiat and Schiele both died at 28).
The other exhibition which my classmate's talk recalled to me was one I only vaguely remembered when she announced her topic (Ce soir, je voudrais vous présenter. . . .). Gradually, as she spoke, images from my memory coalesced until I knew Paul and I had seen Modigliani's work at the Pinacothèque in Paris in an exhibition of the work of numerous painters, not only Modigliani's.
The day after that class, I worked my way through two stacks of exhibition catalogues/art books piled temptingly next to my favourite reading couch. Yes! There it was! The hardcover copy (weighty -- this would have challenged our carry-on limit that year) of the catalogue for La Collection Jonas Netter: Modigliani, Soutine et l"Aventure de Montparnasse.
Next stop, a concerted rifling-through my box of travel journals to find what I might have noted about this exhibition in general, Modigliani's paintings in particular -- and to determine when it was we'd seen the exhibition. 2012, it turns out. It also turns out that 2012 was still back in the days when I used the pocket-sized lined Moleskine notebooks to record impressions. It was the year, though, that I'd taken that transformative Illustrated Journal class I've often referred to here, and I'd brought along a very simple, light, sketchbook with paper that could tolerate a light wash of watercolour. It's devastatingly clear now how raw I still was to sketching -- and encouragingly clear to see how much I've improved since then.
Where I've also improved since then, I think, is that I tend to take more time writing necessary identifying details. . . .
If I were bothering now, for example, to sketch a composition such as this, taking the time to stand in a busy gallery and (probably furtively, because feeling self-conscious) make a quick rendition of a painting that impressed me, I like to think that I'd write down whose painting it was, what was the title. . . As it is, coming across this quick pencil sketch in one notebook, in sequence that seemed to line up with my notes in the little Moleskine, I first assumed that this painting had been by Modigliani, and I searched through the catalogue and then online trying to find an image of it.
Only after ten or fiften minutes of fruitless searching did I go back to my written notes and read that Modigliani's Jeune Femme Assise au Corsage Bleu
reminded me, in its simplicity of composition and its colours, of the "Picasso portrait with white hat from yesterday."
Okay, so now I had some useful breadcrumbs to follow. I thumbed back a few pages in my Kraft-paper-covered pocket-sized Moleskine and found this note
There we go! That's the non-Modigliani painting that I'd stood in front of and sketched, in an uncomfortably busy Musée de l'Orangerie. I found this photo of it online. Picasso's Femme au Chapeau Blanc, and I stand by my comparison. . .
What to make of all these painters, all this remembering, all these notes and books and sketches? For me, it's that integration of travel experience into my everyday life that I've written about here before. Frustrating as it was, at first, to fossick through that jumbled box of travel notes, to try to remember when and where and what, I was very satisfied at following a thread -- at first tentatively, but then with increasing confidence and, ultimately, fist-pumping validation -- from my classmate's presentation through my own memories and artifacts to synthesize a narrative of these four artists' relation to each other, however idiosyncratic.
And I'm content, also, to be able to travel through my memories without physically leaving that couch, that stack of books. Who knows when that might be the only way I can travel?
One last painting before I go, this one by Moïse Kisling, one of the artists who participated in l'Aventure de Montparnasse with Modigliani and Soutine. As a knitter, I couldn't resist this one
And there we go. . . Happy Monday!
As always, I'll be happy to read your comments. . .
My fellow student's excitement about Modigliani, and her musings on the tragedy of his short, but prolific, life sent me home thinking about two exhibitions I've been lucky enough to see in Paris over the years. One, just last November, was a magnificent exhibition of the works of Egon Schiele and of Jean-Michel Basquiat. I'll tell/show you more about that soon, but will just say, for now, that the connection I make between Modigliani, Schiele, and Basquiat is that all three were phenomenally prolific from a relatively young age, but all three artistic lives were sadly truncated (Basquiat and Schiele both died at 28).
 |
| Self-Portrait of/by Egon Schiele, 1912 |
 |
| Basquiat's self-portrait, 1984 |
The other exhibition which my classmate's talk recalled to me was one I only vaguely remembered when she announced her topic (Ce soir, je voudrais vous présenter. . . .). Gradually, as she spoke, images from my memory coalesced until I knew Paul and I had seen Modigliani's work at the Pinacothèque in Paris in an exhibition of the work of numerous painters, not only Modigliani's.
The day after that class, I worked my way through two stacks of exhibition catalogues/art books piled temptingly next to my favourite reading couch. Yes! There it was! The hardcover copy (weighty -- this would have challenged our carry-on limit that year) of the catalogue for La Collection Jonas Netter: Modigliani, Soutine et l"Aventure de Montparnasse.
Next stop, a concerted rifling-through my box of travel journals to find what I might have noted about this exhibition in general, Modigliani's paintings in particular -- and to determine when it was we'd seen the exhibition. 2012, it turns out. It also turns out that 2012 was still back in the days when I used the pocket-sized lined Moleskine notebooks to record impressions. It was the year, though, that I'd taken that transformative Illustrated Journal class I've often referred to here, and I'd brought along a very simple, light, sketchbook with paper that could tolerate a light wash of watercolour. It's devastatingly clear now how raw I still was to sketching -- and encouragingly clear to see how much I've improved since then.
Where I've also improved since then, I think, is that I tend to take more time writing necessary identifying details. . . .
If I were bothering now, for example, to sketch a composition such as this, taking the time to stand in a busy gallery and (probably furtively, because feeling self-conscious) make a quick rendition of a painting that impressed me, I like to think that I'd write down whose painting it was, what was the title. . . As it is, coming across this quick pencil sketch in one notebook, in sequence that seemed to line up with my notes in the little Moleskine, I first assumed that this painting had been by Modigliani, and I searched through the catalogue and then online trying to find an image of it.
reminded me, in its simplicity of composition and its colours, of the "Picasso portrait with white hat from yesterday."
And I'm content, also, to be able to travel through my memories without physically leaving that couch, that stack of books. Who knows when that might be the only way I can travel?
One last painting before I go, this one by Moïse Kisling, one of the artists who participated in l'Aventure de Montparnasse with Modigliani and Soutine. As a knitter, I couldn't resist this one
As always, I'll be happy to read your comments. . .
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