The polar extremes of artwork, ranging from realistic, virtually photographic realism to its counterpoint, Abstract Expressionism can be viewed through Oct. 30 at Stockbridge’s Norman Rockwell Museum. The exhibit of some 100 works displays the images of representational artists such as Andrew Wyeth and his son Jamie, and alternate, non-objective paintings and objects created by such innovators as Roy Lichtenstein and Claes Oldenburg.
Following World War II, there was a new wave in modern art, and to the surprise of many, it originated not in Europe, but stateside, in New York. Although many of the pioneering artists were expatriate Europeans, this was the first time a significant art form was born on these shores. Abstract Expressionism came with the force of a tsunami with the intent of devouring the existing standards of art and perception. Artists who painted realistic, identifiable images were caught up in a maelstrom of criticism, and among them was the illustrator Norman Rockwell.
“Rockwell understood that he was, in a lot of ways, at the center of a controversy without ever wanting to be a part of it,” said Stephanie Plunkett, the museum’s deputy director and the exhibit’s curator.
“We know that Rockwell existed simultaneously with this enormous change in art,” she said. “Abstract Expressionism totally affected anyone who was working as a narrative realist painter or as an illustrator. It totally changed the way your work was viewed.”
The narrative work of the lanky pipe-smoker was targeted by critics as a style no longer in vogue and not to be collected.
Elsewhere, there was a lot of metaphorical bomb throwing. The representational artist Andrew Wyeth was dismissed as a provincial reactionary and one critic suggested that his palette was composed of “mud and baby poop.”
Easily understood representational art, Plunkett said, “was part of a dying culture that was less important.”
At a recent museum lecture, Helen Harrison, director of New York’s Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center noted that Abstract Expressionism received a national splash from “Life” magazine in 1949.
The subject was Jackson Pollock, 37, a rugged boozer and chain smoker who had studied under the Mexican muralist David Siqueiros and who was also deeply influenced by American Indian sand “painting.”
Pollock’s canvases were laid out on studio floors and, in what many said was a fugue state, the artist dribbled and poured house paint colors onto the surface, dabbling with sticks, sand and a trowel.
The article asked, “Is he the greatest living painter in the United States?”
The magazine received 500 letters.
“Four hundred and ninety-five said ‘NO,’ the other five were crazy about it,” Harrison said.
Although there was a coterie of expressionist artists — Barnett Newman, Mark Rothko, Willem de Kooning and others — the doomed Pollock became the face of the new movement.
Prior to this breakthrough, American artists were simply obligated to study in Europe before receiving recognition in this country. The Wyoming expatriate, however, was now a national figure without ever having left the States.
“Pollock was the first one to do this,” the director said.
By 1951, Abstract Expressionism had arrived and the wealthy and influential Peggy Guggenheim was exhibiting solo shows for Pollock while also providing him with a stipend.
One year later Pollock was making $11,500 off his paintings at a time when the average wage in this country was $2,900.
“Abstract Expressionism was considered serious,” Plunkett said. “The type of work that was being done by Rockwell and others was considered commercial, saccharine and sentimental. It was basically ‘high art’ versus ‘low art.’”
The art form thrived under a big tent in as far as expressionism was defined as anything from Rothko’s large rectangles of pure color to de Kooning’s grotesque portraits. The new art could often be considered as simply revealing the dynamics of paint, and color, upon a canvas. One dismissive critic, however, described it as “a belch from the unconscious.”
The lightning strikes of this new movement, however, were forcing realistic painters into the shadows.
“It seems to me that the modern painter cannot express this age, the airplane, the atom bomb, the radio, in the old forms of the Renaissance or of any other past culture,” Pollock said.
In 1956 the artist and a passenger in his convertible would lose their lives in an accident less than a half-mile from his home. His Long Island house and studio are now open to the public and Pollock’s work has only risen in value. His canvas “Number 17 A” sold recently for $22.9 million.
For those who consign Rockwell to a sentimental corner of American culture, it should be understood that he had a wealth of understanding in both classical and modern art. Many of his subjects, whether in football uniforms or holding a riveting gun, copy poses from Renaissance paintings. Rockwell enjoyed Picasso’s images and commented that, if he’d been younger, he would have attempted Abstract Expressionism.
His 1961 painting “The Connoisseur” conflates a realistic rendering of a middle-aged man, with the abstraction of a Pollock painting. (It suggests a visual curiosity. Next time you’re near a Pollock, and if there’s no flack from a museum guard, stand inches away from the canvas. The mix of colors will appear to have movement.)
Rockwell invariably went through numerous obsessive studies before committing to a final canvas. For this “Saturday Evening Post” cover, he duplicated the artist’s technique.
When finished, he submitted the abstract images under a different name to art shows, taking first place in Cooperstown and an honorable mention at the Berkshire Museum.
Viewing the magazine cover, de Kooning said, “The painting is better than anything Jackson could do.”
Traveling through the exhibit you’ll come across the highly expressionistic work of metal sculptor George Giusti, an Italian expatriate who’d begun a career in advertising and magazine cover illustration. You may not immediately recognize his minimalist sculptures of one-time Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir or rocker Mick Jagger. His rendering of a figure with a ski-jump nose, however, is unmistakably former President Richard Nixon.
Roy Lichtenstein, known for reproducing single panels of romantic adventure cartoon strips as if they had a sublime meaning, also produced complete abstraction. His “Brushstrokes” magnifies a swirled paintbrush image to the point that a newspaper’s tiny “Ben-Day” dots are made huge. Another work by the artist suggests the barest idea of sunshine.
Nearby are works by Claes Oldenburg, best known for his visual puns of 23-foot tall lipsticks, soft typewriters and four-story high clothespins. Here in a display case and much less cumbersome are life-sized permanent scoops of ice cream with fudge topping cast in aluminum.
For the realists, there are three Wyeth paintings, one of which, by Jamie underlines a mysterious death. The painting “Portrait of Rockwell Kent…” is composed of the controversial artist looking at you from a Monhegan Island winterscape. In the background is a falling figure suggesting the curious circumstances that took the life of New York socialite Sally Moran. The Kents were off-island at the time of her disappearance.
Distant from tragedy is an adjacent, joyful painting of Jamie Wyeth’s wife Phyllis, a champion equestrian and at one time an aide to President Kennedy. “Catching Pollen” is a confluence of representative and abstract painting. The yellow eruptions of color are so luminescent they seem backlit and illuminated like stained glass.
From the abstractions of Jasper Johns and Robert Motherwell to the new realism of Robert Weaver, Eric Forstmann and Anita Kunz, it’s a visually rich exhibit.
In her closing remarks, Harrison noted that the Abstract Expressionist movement was later supplanted by the aggressively low-brow Pop Art movement. This brought us, among other effluvia, Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup can silkscreens and oversized balloon animals.
She also explained that the wide spectrum of art is vast enough that the polar opposites of Rockwell and Pollock images have achieved international recognition in both the museum world and by collectors. Both men would certainly be astounded at the prices their works now command. Two years ago at a Sotheby’s auction, the Rockwell painting “Saying Grace” was purchased for $46 million.
“I think if both Rockwell and Pollock were alive today, they’d be laughing over a beer together,” Harrison said.
“Rockwell and Realism in an Abstract World” continues through Oct. 30. Museum hours through October are daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission: Adults $18; College (with student ID) $10; ages 18 and under, $6; children age 5 and under, free. Directions: The museum is less than 3 miles from downtown Stockbridge. Signs direct motorists to Route 102 west and then Route 183 south. The museum is a half mile on your left.
Don Stewart is a freelance writer who lives in Plainfield. He has written for The Recorder since 1994.