The Art
Books of Henri Matisse
15th October 2011 – 15th April 2012
Reviewed by
This gentle exhibition is what is sometimes needed: not so extensive
as to be overwhelming, yet demanding enough in its intensity of purpose,
focusing as it does on the aspect of his art Matisse was most proud of:
his art book illustrations.
The book began its life as a treasured artefact, as a beautiful object
per se. In those hand-written Bibles, jewel-like
in their illustration, the medium and the message were part of the same
act of faith. The invention of the printing press switched the emphasis
from individuality to standardisation, from elite scarcity to accessible
quantity but the desire to preserve the idea of content and medium complementing
one another has endured, especially in an age when the book as artefact
is under threat from screened words. Reflecting the sustained interest
in the book as a vital part of the message, this exhibition also offers
books by Ed Ruscha, Derek Boshier and Gilbert & George from the Walker
permanent exhibition.
The Matisse exhibition contains 63 framed original illustrations with
text from four books: Poesies de Stephane Mallarme
(1932), Pasiphae Chant de Minos (Les Cretois)
by Henri de Montherlant (1944), Jazz (1947)
and Poemes de Charles d’Orleans (1950).
It covers Matisse’s prowess as a linear artist as well as his skill
as a colourist; his compositional certainty as well as and his innovative
venture into the cut-out technique.
Regarding linear beauty the mind focuses on Poesies
de Stephane Mallarme and on Pasiphae Chant
de Minos (Les Cretois) by Henri de Montherlant. In illustrating
these works Matisse perceived of the double page with text and illustration
as a whole, seeking to achieve a harmonious balance of the blank areas
of the page, the lines of text on it and the drawn illustrations at its
side. To Matisse it was just like painting: “I do not distinguish
between the construction of a book and that of a painting and I always
proceed from the simple to the complex.” (1946) “I can compare
my two pages to two objects taken up by a juggler…the light one
and the dark one…the art of the juggler makes a harmonious whole
in the eyes of the spectator,” (1946).
In terms of being a supreme colourist Matisse developed a method of working
hitherto unseen, using pre-coloured gouache cut-outs. He was ill and found
difficulty in working conventionally but invention is the necessity of
creativity and the technique, far from being a compromise, it took him
to the resolution he sought:
“I
am currently focusing on material more matt and more immediate, and this
leads me to seek a new means of expression. Paper cut-outs allow me to
draw in colour. For me it is a question of simplification. Instead of
drawing the outline and establishing colour within it, I draw directly
in the colour, which is more exact for not being transposed. This simplification
guarantees precision; as I reconcile, two means now become one…It
is not a beginning, it is an endpoint.”
What Matisse had been looking for: a synthesis of his drawing, painting,
writing and sculpture was now achieved. With reference to Jazz, which
contains images taken from the circus, from cabaret and from his travels,
Matisse spoke of the directness of the technique: “cutting directly
into colour reminds me of a sculptor’s carving into stone. This
book was conceived in that spirit” (1947). The textual content,
written in Matisse’s own hand, is there in a “purely visual”
role, an idea that was to influence later artists such as Cy Twombley.
The Jazz works are breathtaking in their colourist joy and linear sureness;
in their direct imagery and in compositional balance, yet this is not
the whole story. The content of Jazz is not
divorced from the troubled times that produced it. Black recurs throughout
as does the jagged motif of explosion or flame as seen in The
Clown (1943 - above right) and there are some uncomfortable images
such as the white wolf’s head with its disturbing red eye and predatory
jaw in The Wolf (1944) or Icarus
(1943 - top) who flew too close to the sun and came to a bad end, or the
disturbing black figures in The Cowboy (1943-46)
which evoke the idea of confinement – torture even. The
Knife-Thrower (1943) at first glance almost abstract in its decorative
emphasis becomes more disturbing when further examined. The blue-grey
figure on the right, its arms up as if in surrender, is completely open
to the diagonal knife shape in the purple figure on the left.
It is worth noting here that Matisse’s daughter was arrested and
tortured by the Germans.
This is an important exhibition for obvious reasons. With Picasso, Matisse
is the giant of twentieth century art whose influence still reverberates.
We are all familiar with these exquisitely executed linear drawings and
iconic cut-outs popularised in art books, posters, T-shirts and even crockery
but seeing his revolutionary technical advances, seeing the artworks in
their actuality of colour and size is a privilege and an opportunity not
to be missed.
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