MODERN PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THE THOMAS WALTHER COLLECTION 1909 - 1949
MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
December 13, 2014 - April 19, 2015
MODERN
PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THE THOMAS WALTHER COLLECTION 1909 - 1949
MUSEUM OF
MODERN ART NEW YORK
December 13,
2014 - April 19, 2015
The Edward Steichen
Photography Galleries, third floor
Exhibition
Coincides with the Culmination of the Thomas Walther Collection Project, a
Four-Year Research Collaboration Between MoMA’s Curatorial and Conservation
Staff
Explores
photography between the First and Second World Wars, when creative
possibilities were never richer or more varied, and when photographers
approached figuration, abstraction, and architecture with unmatched imaginative
fervor. This vital moment is dramatically captured in the photographs that
constitute the Thomas Walther Collection, a remarkable group of works presented
together for the first time through nearly 300 photographs. Made on the street
and in the studio, intended for avant-garde exhibitions or the printed page,
these objects provide unique insight into the radical intentions of their
creators. Iconic works by such towering figures as Berenice
Abbott, Karl Blossfeldt, Alvin Langdon Coburn, El Lissitzky, Lucia Moholy,
László Moholy- Nagy, Aleksandr Rodchenko, and Paul Strand are featured
alongside lesser-known treasures by more than 100 other practitioners. The
exhibition is organized by Quentin Bajac, the Joel and Anne Ehrenkranz Chief
Curator of Photography, and Sarah Hermanson Meister, Curator, Department of
Photography, MoMA.
The exhibition
coincides with Object:Photo. Modern Photographs: The Thomas
Walther
Collection 1909–1949, the result of a four-year collaborative project between
the Museum’s departments of Photography and Conservation, with the
participation of over two dozen leading international photography scholars and
conservators, making it the most extensive effort to integrate conservation,
curatorial, and scholarly research efforts on photography to date. That project
is composed of multiple parts including a website that features a suite of
digital visualization research tools that allow visitors to explore the
collection, a hard-bound paper catalogue of the entire Thomas Walther
collection, and an interdisciplinary symposium focusing on ways in which the
digital age is changing our engagement with historic photographs.
Modern
Photographs from the Thomas Walther Collection, 1909–1949, is organized
thematically
into six sections, suggesting networks between artists, regions, and objects,
and highlighting the figures whose work Walther collected in depth, including
André Kertész, Germaine Krull, Franz Roh, Willi Ruge, Maurice Tabard, Umbo, and
Edward Weston. Enriched by key works in other mediums from MoMA's collection,
this exhibition presents the exhilarating story of a landmark chapter in
photography’s history.
http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1496
A BASIS
FOR COMPARISON: THE THOMAS WALTHER COLLECTION AS RESEARCH COLLECTION BY
JIM CODDINGTON
What is it? What is an object, a particular work of
art? This question, which lies at the heart of art-historical inquiry, is
itself comprised of others: who made this object? When? Where? What is it made
of? The study of archival materials that relate to an artwork, such as
provenance, exhibition records, and written accounts by contemporaries and
historians, is vital to such investigation, but initially, how the
arthistorical object is defined by these questions is an empirical problem,
which is derived from observation of the object itself. Once we start to answer
these basic questions, we can begin to place the object in the larger
art-historical narrative and scholarship—a process that is the result of
comparing these answers to those derived from other objects, other artists,
other periods. Indeed, the reflexive use of comparisons seems as fundamental to
art-historical inquiry as the description and analysis of objects, even when it
is not explicitly recognized as such.1 Comparative analysis is thus central
to art-historical inquiry, and it is a core methodological principle as well
for conservation and conservation science, both of which play a significant
role in characterizing the art object itself and in classifying it relative to
its place in the art-historical context, as is evident here in the collective
research conducted as part of the Walther project. These qualitative and
quantitative analyses not only help us to better understand the specific
artworks themselves (in this case, photographs [fig. 1]), they also form a
basis for comparisons with other works by the same artist, other works within
the collection, and works across multiple collections as well.
Conservation and conservation science often bring particular methods and sets
of data to the task of arthistorical investigation. For instance, observation
of works by the same artist reveals patterns of material use as well as
technique in using those materials, while deeper research on the particular
object can include direct analysis of its materials to establish their chemical
composition and physical performance. Knowing what paint Jackson Pollock used
is critical to identifying his works, for example, and also to the
understanding of his development of a distinctive style that placed him well
outside the norms of historical painting practice.2 More subtly, a better
knowledge of the white pigments employed by Piet Mondrian can enhance our
insight into the effects one sees in his paintings by understanding the
fundamental properties of those pigments.3 Such information is derived from
instrumental analysis of microscopic samples taken from the work or,
increasingly, using instruments that collect data directly from the work
without sampling.4 Material comparison can be critically important in the
medium of photography, where original artworks often exist as multiples that
are sometimes created years apart using the same negative but printed with
different materials and artistic intentions, such as is evident in examining
Edward Weston’s switch from platinum to gelatin silver printing, a key
transition in his artistic development. Essential to such analysis is, once again, the use of
comparative data, not only from works by the specific artist but also from
reference collections of materials, which are a fundamental and invaluable
resource. Reference collections of art materials are, by definition, material
samples of known provenance. Often the reference collection, the material
archive, will also contain analytical data of some kind for comparison by other
researchers analyzing similar material samples.
Material
archives have long been a part of conservation research, one of the first being
the Forbes Collection. Begun around 1910 as a collection of historical artists’
materials to support Edward Waldo Forbes’s course on Italian painting at
Harvard’s Fogg Art Museum, today samples from the Forbes pigment collection
reside not only at Harvard but at numerous other institutions; taken as a
whole, the collection represents an essential attribute of all truly valuable
reference collections, which is a provenance of the sources of the samples
themselves.5 Although the Forbes Collection is known principally as a pigment
collection, it is in fact broader than that, comprising samples of artists’
materials such as historic paint media and varnishes as well. In addition, the
collection of pigments has come to serve other research uses beyond its initial
purpose as a reference to study Renaissance Italian painting. Because the
collection was built during the first half of the twentieth century, it can
also be viewed and used as an archive of pigment manufacture during that time.
It thus offers comparative data for the history of pigment making and a
resource for comparing pigment samples from objects made during that period,
demonstrating that material archives can often find applications beyond the
vision of their original creators. Particularly useful have been those
reference collections dedicated to paper, such as the one at the National
Gallery of Art. A prime value of such paper collections is the identification
of watermarks as a means to date the paper as well as the maker. The material
constituents of a paper collection, such as the fiber content of the individual
papers (fig. 2), have become increasingly valuable as analytical equipment and
techniques to aid such characterization have become more commonly available to
the conservation field, as demonstrated here in the work of Hanako Murata and
Lee Ann Daffner.
Indeed, this increased analytical capacity and
sophistication have expanded the idea of the reference collection to include
not only materials of well-documented provenance but data collections of
well-documented provenance as well. The Infrared & Raman Users Group (IRUG)
is one of the oldest and most widely used of such collections, in which the
material sources and analytical protocols for deriving the data are both
clearly detailed.6 The IRUG collection of reference data is not deposited in a
single place but rather is a searchable database from which members can compare
their analytical results to the reference materials and the data in the
database. For instance, if there is an adhesive or coating on a work, a sample
can be analyzed via infrared spectroscopy, and similar spectra are then called
up for comparison to identify the closest match. This would be one of the approaches to identifying the
paint Pollock used in the example above. It is worth noting that such analysis
is not simply a mechanical process or computational result but one that
requires a degree of judgment. Differences in results can be due to an unknown
element in the sample, deterioration or aging of the material of interest, as
well as differing protocols, sampling techniques, or sensitivity of the
detection method itself, all further evidence of the critical role of data
interpretation by experienced scientists in rigorous material studies.
It is
fortunate that reference collections that make use of sophisticated analytical
tools have been incorporated at roughly the same time that the range of artist
materials has started to increase exponentially. Synthetic polymers, singly and
as constituents in complex formulations or as composites, have been present in
the work of artists for much of the twentieth century. The task of
characterizing this huge universe of materials is daunting, and conservators
and conservation scientists routinely turn to industrial literature to acquire
key data and research information. Industrial paint literature has been central
to characterizing the paints used by many modern artists, for example.7 The
photographic film and paper industry, a truly modern phenomenon as well, was
for many decades one of the most extensively researched and recorded, due to
the size of the market for these materials and their general penetration not
just into fine-art collections but into the culture at large. Certainly
when it comes to furthering our materials based understanding of the history
and development of the photograph as an artistic medium, the Messier Collection
of photographic papers is critical, a fact amply illustrated by Paul Messier’s
contribution to this project. Consisting of more than 5,000 paper samples, this
material archive offers researchers the opportunity to probe in numerous ways
the complex medium of photographic papers, from early in its commercial history
to the late twentieth century, thus providing an incomparable resource to
better establish how, when, where, and by whom fine-art photographs were made.8
The Messier Collection has been a fundamental tool for the research conducted
on the Walther Collection, both directly and through the utilization of past
research based on the collection. Protocols from that prior research, as well
as other protocols, have been incorporated into the examination and
instrumental analysis of the photographs in the Walther Collection. These
include elemental analysis of the baryta and emulsion layers using X-ray
fluorescence spectroscopy (XRF; fig. 3), thickness measurements (fig. 4),
Fourier Transform Infrared spectroscopy (FTIR), texture imaging (fig. 5), gloss
assessment, and UV fluorescence of the photos. The Museum of Modern Art’s
film stills archive represents another material collection that has greatly
benefited efforts to better characterize photographs. Consisting of more than 4
million individual stills and promotional materials from the United States,
England, France, Germany, Italy, Russia, and Asia, and from the earliest days
of the film industry to the present, the collection is another example of one
that was originally acquired for historical and documentation purposes (in
this case, surrounding the history of movies) but is now valued for its
material information as well. This collection, with well-documented printing
dates for the photos, has been used to refine a methodology for dating
photographs, and these research methods have also been central to the
characterization of the photographs in the Walther Collection.9 Such deep
characterization of the material constituents of the entire collection thus
brings the Walther Collection, in addition to its art-historical importance,
into the realm of the kinds of material archives and research collections
outlined above. The research methods are clearly detailed and public. The
photos themselves are well documented, with substantial provenance and
historical research supporting them.10 The collected data, both art historical
and scientific, can be a source of comparison for other researchers who have
derived their own data through their study of similar photographs or other
works by the same photographer. More broadly, the methodologies from this
research can be applied to other photographs and photography collections, which
in turn will further extend the field’s global set of data so that new comparisons
leading to new characterizations and classifications of photographs can be
made. And, like other such collections, the research on the Walther Collection,
both material and arthistorical, will be extended and expanded in the future,
offering ever more comprehensive understanding of the collection itself, its
photographers, and the vital period of photography it represents—in sum, what
each of these photographs is.
t
https://www.moma.org/interactives/objectphoto/assets/essays/Coddington.pdf
https://www.moma.org/interactives/objectphoto/the_project.html
You may reach above link to see all the photographs
under fig. with photographs information and notes under numbers related to
essay for your research. You would like to research exhibition web page to read
and find out more essay and photographs to click above link.
1- THE MODERN
WORLD
Even before
the introduction of the handheld Leica camera in 1925, photographers were
avidly exploring fresh perspectives, shaped by the unique experience of
capturing the world through a lens and ideally suited to express the tenor of
modern life in the wake of World War I. Looking up and down, these photographers
found unfamiliar points of view that suggested a new, dynamic visual language
freed from convention. Improvements in the light sensitivity of photographic
films and papers meant that photographers could capture motion as never before.
At the same time, technological advances in printing resulted in an
explosion of opportunities for photographers to present their work to
ever-widening audiences. From inexpensive weekly magazines to extravagantly
produced journals, periodicals exploited the potential of photographs and
imaginative layouts, not text, to tell stories. Among the photographers on view
in this section are Martin Munkácsi (American, born Hungary, 1896–1963), Leni
Riefenstahl (German, 1902–2003), Aleksandr Rodchenko (Russian, 1891–1956), and
Willi Ruge (German, 1882–1961).
WILLI RUGE ( GERMAN 1882–1961 )
WITH MY HEAD
HANGING DOWN BEFORE THE PARACHUTE OPENED… 1931
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions Image: 14
× 20.3 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
ALEKSANDR RODCHENKO ( RUSSIAN 1891–1956 )
DIVE 1934
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions Image: 29.7
x 23.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Shirley C. Burden, by Exchange
WILLI RUGE ( GERMAN 1882 - 1961 )
SECONDS BEFORE LANDING SECONDS BEFORE LANDING
From the Series – I Photograph Myself during a Parachute
Jump 1931
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions Image: 20.4
× 14.1 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
LENI RIEFENSTAHL ( GERMAN 1902–2003 )
UNTITLED 1936
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions Image: 23.4
x 29.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection funds, by Exchange
WANDA WULZ (
ITALIAN 1903 - 1984 )
EXERCISE 1932
Gelatin Silver Print - Print Date 1932- 1939
Dimensions Image: 29.2 × 21.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
© Fratelli Alinari Museum Collections-Studio Wulz Archive,
Florence
ROBERT PETSCHOW (
GERMAN 1888 – 1945 )
LINES OF MODERN INDUSTRY: COOLING TOWER 1920 - 1929
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1920 - 1932
Dimensions Image: 8.5 × 11.5 cm - Sheet: 8.8 × 11.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Gift of Albert Renger-Patzsch, by Exchange
2- PURISM
The question
of whether photography ought to be considered a fine art was hotly contested
from its invention in 1839 into the 20th century. Beginning in the 1890s, in an
attempt to distinguish their efforts from hoards of Kodak-wielding amateurs and
masses of professionals, “artistic” photographers referred to themselves as
Pictorialists. They embraced soft focus and painstakingly wrought prints so as
to emulate contemporary prints and drawings, and chose subjects that
underscored the ethereal effects of their methods. Before long, however, most
avant-garde photographers had come to celebrate precise and distinctly
photographic qualities as virtues. On both sides of the Atlantic, photographers
were making this transition from Pictorialism to modernism, while occasionally
blurring the distinction. Exhibition prints could be made with precious
platinum or palladium, or matte surfaces that mimicked those materials. Perhaps
nowhere is this variety more clearly evidenced than in the work of Edward
Weston, whose suite of prints in this section suggests the range of appearances
achievable with unadulterated contact prints from his large-format negatives.
Other photographers on view include Karl Blossfeldt (German, 1865 - 1932),
Manuel Álvarez Bravo (Mexican, 1902–2002), Jaromír Funke (Czech, 1896 - 1945),
Bernard Shea Horne (American, 1867 - 1933), and Alfred Stieglitz (American,
1864 - 1946).
JAROSLAV ROSSLER (
CZECH 1902 – 1990 )
UNTITLED 1923
- 1925
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1923 - 1935
Dimensions Image: 22.1 × 21.8 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Horace W.
Goldsmith Fund
Through Robert B. Menschel
© 2014 Sylva Vitove-Rösslerova
BERNARD SHEA HORNE (
AMERICAN 1867 – 1933 )
UNTITLED 1916
- 1917
Platinum Print
Print Date 1916 - 1917
Dimensions Image: 20.3 × 15.5 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
EDWARD WESTON ( AMERICAN 1886 – 1958 )
ATTIC 1921
Palladium Print
Dimensions: 18.9
× 23.9 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Grace M. Mayer Fund and gift of Mrs. Mary Donant and Carl
Sandburg, by Exchange
BERNARD SHEA HORNE (
AMERICAN 1867 – 1933 )
UNTITLED 1916
- 1917
Platinum Print
Print Date 1916 - 1917
Dimensions Image: 20.5 × 15.5 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
Grace M. Mayer Fund and gift of Mrs. Mary Donant and Carl
Sandburg, by Exchange
JAROMÍR FUNKE ( CZECH 1896–1945 )
PLATES 1923 -
1924
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions Image: 21.5
× 29.3 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Shirley C. Burden, by Exchange
EDWARD WESTON (
AMERICAN 1886 – 1958 )
STEEL: ARMCO, MIDDLETOWN, OHIO - 1922
Palladium Print - Print Date 1922
Dimensions Image: 23 × 17.4 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© 1981 Center for Creative Photography,
Arizona Board of Regents.
EDWARD WESTON ( AMERICAN 1886 – 1958 )
STEEL: ARMCO, MIDDLETOWN, OHIO - 1922
DESCRIPTION
In Edward
Weston’s journals, which he began on his trip to Ohio and New York in fall
1922, the artist wrote of the exhilaration he felt while photographing the
“great plant and giant stacks of the American Rolling Mill Company” in
Middletown, Ohio. He then went to see the great photographer and
tastemaker Alfred Stieglitz. Were he still publishing the magazine Camera Work, Stieglitz told him, he would have
reproduced some of Weston’s recent images in it, including, in particular, one
of his smokestacks. The photograph’s clarity and the photographer’s frank awe
at the beauty of the brute industrial subject seemed clear signs of advanced
modernist tendencies.
In moving
away from the soft focus and geometric stylization of his recent images, such
as Attic of
1921 (MoMA 1902.2001), Weston was discovering a more straightforward approach,
one of considered confrontation with the facts of the larger world much like
that of his close friend Johan Hagemeyer, who was photographing such modern
subjects as smokestacks, telephone wires, and advertisements. Shortly before
his trip east, Weston had met R. M. Schindler, the Austrian architect, and had
been excited by his unapologetically spare, modern house and its implications
for art and design. Weston was also reading avant-garde European art magazines
full of images and essays extolling machines and construction. Stimulated by
these currents, Weston saw that by the time he got to Ohio he was “ripe to
change, was changing, yes changed.”
The visit to
Armco was the critical pivot, the hinge between Weston’s Pictorialist past and
his modernist future. It marked a clear leave-taking from his bohemian circle
in Los Angeles and the first step toward the cosmopolitan connections he made
in New York and in Mexico City, where he moved a few months later to live with
the Italian actress and artist Tina Modotti. The Armco photographs went with
him and became talismans of the sea change, emblematic works that decorated his
studio in Mexico, along with a Japanese print and a print by Picasso. When he
sent a representation of his best work to the Film und Foto exhibition in Stuttgart in 1929,
one of the smokestacks was included.
In the midst
of such transformation, Weston maintained tried-and-true darkroom procedures.
He had used an enlarger in earlier years but had abandoned the technique
because he felt that too much information was lost in the projection. Instead
he increasingly favored contact printing. To make the smokestack print, Weston
enlarged his 3 ¼ by 4 ¼ inch (8.3 by 10.8 centimeter) original negative onto an
8 by 10 inch (20.3 by 25.4 centimeter) interpositive transparency, which he
contact printed to a second sheet of film in the usual way, creating the final
8 by 10 inch negative. Weston was frugal; he was known to economize by
purchasing platinum and palladium paper by the roll from Willis and Clements in
England and trimming it to size. He exposed a sheet of palladium paper to the
sun through the negative and, after processing the print, finished it by
applying aqueous retouching media to any flaws. The fragile balance of the
photograph’s chemistry, however, is evinced in a bubble-shaped area of cooler
tonality hovering over the central stacks. The print was in Modotti’s
possession at the time of her death in Mexico City, in 1942.
—Lee Ann
Daffner, Maria Morris Hambourg
JAROSLAV RÖSSLER ( CZECH 1902–1990 )
UNTITLED 1924
Pigment Print
Dimensions Image: 23
× 23 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Horace W. Goldsmith Fund Through Robert B. Menschel
3- REINVENTING
PHOTOGRAPHY
In 1925,
László Moholy-Nagy articulated an idea that became central to the New Vision
movement: although photography had been invented 100 years earlier, it was only
now being discovered by
the avant-garde circles for all its aesthetic possibilities. As products of
technological culture, with short histories and no connection to the old
fine-art disciplines—which many contemporary artists considered
discredited—photography and cinema were seen as truly modern instruments that
offered the greatest potential for transforming visual habits. From the
photogram to solarization, from negative prints to double exposures, the New
Vision photographers explored the medium in countless ways, rediscovering
known techniques and inventing new ones. Echoing the cinematic experiments of
the same period, this emerging photographic vocabulary was rapidly adopted by
the advertising industry, which appreciated the visual efficiency of its bold
simplicity. Florence Henri (Swiss, born America, 1893 - 1982), Edward Quigley
(American, 1898 - 1977), Franz Roh (German, 1890 - 1965), Franciszka Themerson
and Stefan Themerson (British, born Poland, 1907 - 1988 and 1910 - 1988), and
František Vobecký (Czech, 1902 - 1991) are among the numerous photographers
represented here.
EDMUND KESTING (
GERMAN 1892 – 1970 )
PHOTOGRAM LIGHTBULB 1927
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1927 - 1939
Dimensions Image: 29.6 × 39.7 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection funds, by Exchange
© 2014/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York/VG Bild-Kunst,
Germany
EL LISSITZKY ( RUSSIAN 1890 – 1941 )
KURT SCHWITTERS 1924
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 10.8
× 9.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Shirley C. Burden, by Exchange
ISTVAN KERNY (
HUNGARIAN 1879 – 1963 )
NEPTUNE 1916
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1916–35
Dimensions Image: 16 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Robert
Capa, by Exchange
FRANCIS BRUGUIERE (
AMERICAN 1879 – 1945 )
VIOLENT INTERVENTION 1925
- 1929
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1925 - 1929
Dimensions Image: 24 x 18.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
© 1991 Kenneth H. Bruguière and Kathleen Bruguière Anderson
ALVIN LANGDON COBURN ( AMERICAN 1882 – 1966 )
VORTOGRAPH 1916 - 1917
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 28.2
x 21.2 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Grace M. Mayer Fund
ADOLF NAVARA (
CZECH, ACTIVE C. 1930S)
UNTITLED C.
1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date c. 1930–35
Dimensions Image: 29.5 x 22.8 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
HANS RICHTER ( AMERICAN, BORN GERMANY 1888 – 1976 )
UNTITLED STILL FROM FILM STUDY ( 1928 ) 1927
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 7.3
x 9.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
UNTITLED - FEBRUARY
1931
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1931–39
Dimensions Image: 33.5 x 23.4 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of James N.
Rosenberg, by Exchange
© 2014 Estate of Margaret Bourke-White/Licensed by
VAGA, New York
HANNES MEYER (
SWISS 1889 – 1954 )
FILM 1926
Two Gelatin Silver Prints Mounted on White Cardboard
Print Date 1926
Dimensions Image: 21.2 × 3.4 cm - Mount: 29.6 × 21 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Bauhaus-Archiv Berlin
OSKAR NERLINGER ( GERMAN 1893 – 1969 )
MOTORCYCLE IN THE RACE 1925
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 22
× 17.4 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
STEFAN THEMERSON (
BRITISH, BORN POLAND 1910 – 1988 )
FRANCISZKA THEMERSON (
BRITISH, BORN POLAND 1907 – 1988 )
UNTITLED, FROM MOMENT MUSICAL 1933
Gelatin Silver Prints on White Cardboard
Print Date 1933 - 1935
Dimensions Mount: 37.8 × 39 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Abbott-Levy
Collection funds, by exchange
© 2014 Themerson Estate
FRANZ ROH (
GERMAN 1890 – 1965 )
UNTITLED 1928
- 1933
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1928 - 1935
Dimensions Image: 10.1 × 23.3 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Estate Franz Roh, Munich
MODERN
PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THE THOMAS WALTHER COLLECTION 1909 - 1949
THE COLLECTION
In the 1920s
and ’30s photography underwent a period of exploration, experimentation,
technical innovation, and graphic discovery so dramatic that it generated
repeated claims that the true age of discovery was not when photography was
invented but when it came of age, in this era, as a dynamic, infinitely
flexible, and easily transmissible medium. The Thomas Walther Collection
concentrates on that second moment of growth. The Walther Collection’s 341
photographs by almost 150 artists, most of them European, together convey a
period of collective innovation that is now celebrated as one of the major
episodes of modern art.
THE PROJECT
Our research
is based on the premise that photographs of this period were not born as
disembodied images; they are physical things—discrete objects made by certain
individuals at particular moments using specific techniques and materials.
Shaped by its origin and creation, the photographic print harbors clues to its
maker and making, to the causes it may have served, and to the treatment it has
received, and these bits of information, gathered through close examination of
the print, offer fresh perspectives on the history of the era.
“Object:Photo”—the title of this study—reflects this approach.
In 2010, the
Andrew W. Mellon Foundation gave the Museum a grant to encourage deep scholarly
study of the Walther Collection and to support publication of the results. Led
by the Museum’s Departments of Photography and Conservation, the project
elicited productive collaborations among scholars, curators, conservators, and
scientists, who investigated all of the factors involved in the making,
appearance, condition, and history of each of the 341 photographs in the
collection. The broadening of narrow specializations and the
cross-fertilization between fields heightened appreciation of the singularity
of each object and of its position within the history of its moment. Creating
new standards for the consideration of photographs as original objects and of
photography as an art form of unusually rich historical dimensions, the project
affords both experts and those less familiar with its history new avenues for
the appreciation of the medium. The results of the project are presented in
multiple parts: on the website, in a hard-bound paper catalogue of the entire
Thomas Walther Collection (also titled Object:Photo),
and through an interdisciplinary symposium focusing on the ways in which the
digital age is changing our engagement with historic photographs.
http://www.moma.org/interactives/objectphoto/the_project.html#intro
THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
Founded in 1929 as an educational institution, The Museum of
Modern Art is dedicated to being the foremost museum of modern art in the world.
Through the leadership of its Trustees and staff, The Museum
of Modern Art manifests this commitment by establishing, preserving, and
documenting a collection of the highest order that reflects the vitality,
complexity and unfolding patterns of modern and contemporary art; by presenting
exhibitions and educational programs of unparalleled significance; by
sustaining a library, archives, and conservation laboratory that are recognized
as international centers of research; and by supporting scholarship and
publications of preeminent intellectual merit.
Central to The Museum of Modern Art’s mission is the
encouragement of an ever-deeper understanding and enjoyment of modern and
contemporary art by the diverse local, national, and international audiences
that it serves. You may read more about MoMA’s entire information to click
below link.
http://press.moma.org/about/
THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
DIRECTOR DR. GLENN D. LOWRY
THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
DIRECTOR DR. GLENN D. LOWRY
THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
MODERN
PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THE THOMAS WALTHER COLLECTION 1909 - 1949
HISTORICAL
CONTEXT
The Walther
Collection is particularly suited to such a study because its photographs are
so various in technique, geography, genre, and materials as to make it a mine
of diverse data. The revolutions in technology that made the photography of
this period so flexible and responsive to the impulse of the operator threw
open the field to all comers. The introduction of the handheld Leica
in 1925 (a small camera using strips of 35mm motion-picture
film), of enlargers to make positive prints from the Leica’s little negatives,
and of easy-to-use photographic papers—each of these was respectively a
watershed event. Immediately sensing the potential of these tools, artists
began to explore the medium; without any specialized training, painters such as
László Moholy-Nagy and Aleksandr Rodchenko could become photographers and
teachers almost overnight. Excitedly and with an open sense of possibility,
they freely experimented in the darkroom and in the studio, producing negative
prints, collages and photomontages, photograms, solarizations, and combinations
of these. Legions of serious amateurs also began to photograph, and
manufacturers produced more types of cameras with different dimensions and
capacities: besides the Leica, there was the Ermanox, which could function in
low light, motion-picture cameras that could follow and stop action, and many
varieties of medium- and larger-format cameras that could be adapted for easy
transport. The industry responded to the expanding range of users and equipment
with a bonanza of photographic papers in an assortment of textures, colors, and
sizes. Multiple purposes also generated many kinds of prints: best for
reproduction in books or newspapers were slick, ferrotyped glossies, unmounted
and small enough to mail, while photographs for exhibition were generally
larger and mounted to stiff boards. Made by practitioners ranging from amateurs
to professional portraitists, journalists, illustrators, designers, critics,
and artists of all stripes, the pictures in the Walther Collection are a true
representation of the kaleidoscopic multiplicity of photography in this period
of diversification.
CONSERVATION
SCIENCE
The
conservation objectives were manifold: to determine the manner of the
photographs’ construction—the material constituents of both the image and its
paper— and to test a new methodology, previously applied only to smaller sets
of pictures. To this end the conservation team gathered literature, magazines,
advertisements, and broadsides of the period—tracking the appearance and
history of once familiar products and techniques, so many now given up to
history—and launched into a suite of technical analyses for each photograph in
the collection. Chris McGlinchey, the Museum’s Sally and Michael Gordon
Conservation Scientist, who had pioneered the use of handheld X-ray
fluorescence (XRF) devices on photographs in 2001, set to work, and Ana
Martins, Associate Conservation Scientist, statistically evaluated the immense
data sets that the research had produced. Surface texture, a special line of
investigation for Paul Messier, independent conservator, and Jim Coddington,
the Museum’s Chief Conservator, drew on a body of research in imaging systems
built up by, among others, the Cultural Heritage Imaging group in San
Francisco, using techniques of polynomial mapping and reflectance
transformation imaging. Messier’s modifications of these methods enabled the
study, documentation, and sharing of the surfaces of photographs by the same
artists in other museum collections. The success of documenting photographs
from different collections with these kinds of reproducible results not only
raised the bar for standards of collaboration but made possible future
comparisons that adhere to these published methods and procedures. MoMA was
thus positioned not only to synthesize and mine the largest body of raw data on
a group of photographs ever gathered, but to extend that effort beyond its own
walls.
http://www.moma.org/interactives/objectphoto/the_project.html#intro
You may visit
a comprehensive web page that prepare for the exhibition of Modern Photographs
From the Thomas Walther Collection at Moma to read all the essays, artist’s
information and to see all the photographs with there knowledge to click below
special link.
http://www.moma.org/interactives/objectphoto/#home
THE ARTIST’S
LIFE
Photography
is particularly well suited to capturing the distinctive nuances of the human
face, and photographers delighted in and pushed the boundaries of portraiture
throughout the 20th century. The Thomas Walther Collection features a great
number of portraits of artists and self-portraits as varied as the individuals
portrayed. Additionally, the collection conveys a free-spirited sense of
community and daily life, highlighted here with photographs made by André
Kertész and by students and faculty at the Bauhaus. When the
Hungarian-born Kertész moved to Paris in 1925, he couldn’t afford to purchase
photographic paper, so he would print on less expensive postcard stock. These
prints, whose small scale requires that the viewer engage with them intimately,
function as miniature windows into the lives of Kertész’s bohemian circle of
friends. The group of photographs made at the Bauhaus in the mid-1920s, before
the medium was formally integrated into the school’s curriculum, similarly
expresses friendships and everyday life captured and printed
in an informal manner. Portraits by Claude Cahun (French,
1894 - 1954), Lotte Jacobi (American, born Germany, 1896 - 1990), Lucia Moholy
(British, born Czechoslovakia, 1894 - 1989), Man Ray (American, 1890 - 1976),
August Sander (German, 1876 - 1964) and Edward Steichen (American, born
Luxembourg, 1879 - 1973) are among the highlights of this gallery.
ANDRE KERTESZ ( AMERICAN, BORN HUNGARY 1894 –
1985 )
MONDRIAN'S GLASSES AND PIPE 1926
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1926–c. 1928
Dimensions Image: 7.9 × 9.3 cm - Sheet: 8.5 × 13.6 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Grace M. Mayer
Fund
© Estate of André Kertész
GEORG MUCHE (
GERMAN 1895 – 1987 )
REFLECTION: THE WEAVING WORKSHOP IN THE BALL 1921
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1921–25
Dimensions Image: 15.9 × 11.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Bauhaus-Archiv Berlin
EL LISSITZKY (
RUSSIAN 1890 – 1941 )
SELF-PORTRAIT - 1924
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1924
Dimensions Image: 13.9 × 8.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Shirley
C. Burden, by exchange
© 2014 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York/VG Bild-Kunst,
Bonn
GERMAINE KRULL ( DUTCH, BORN GERMANY 1897 – 1985 )
JEAN COCTEAU 1929
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 22.3
× 16.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
GUSTAV KLUTSIS ( LATVIAN 1895 – 1938 )
UNTITLED 1926
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 8.9
× 6.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
IWAO YAMAWAKI ( JAPANESE 1898 – 1987 )
UNTITLED 1931
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 22
x 16.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
WALTER A. PETERHANS (
AMERICAN, BORN GERMANY 1897 – 1960 )
ANDOR WEININGER, BERLIN 1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1955–86
Dimensions Image: 21.7 × 15.6 cm - Sheet: 22.5 × 16.4 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Estate Walter Peterhans, Museum Folkwang, Essen
GERTRUD ARNDT ( GERMAN 1903 – 2000 )
AT THE MASTERS’ HOUSES 1929 - 1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 22.6
x 15.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
LORE FEININGER ( GERMAN 1901 – 1991 )
ERICH SALOMON 1929
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 23.2
x 16.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
ANDRE KERTESZ ( AMERICAN, BORN HUNGARY 1894 –
1985 )
LÉGER STUDIO - 1927
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1927 - 1929
Dimensions Image: 10.3 × 7.9 cm - Sheet: 10.5 × 8.1 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Estate of André Kertész
ANDRE KERTESZ ( AMERICAN, BORN HUNGARY 1894 –
1985 )
GÉZA BLATTNER 1925
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1925–35
Dimensions Image: 7.7 × 8.2 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Estate of André Kertész
5- BETWEEN
SURREALISM & MAGIC REALISM
In the
mid-1920s, European artistic movements ranging from Surrealism to New
Objectivity moved away from a realist approach by highlighting the strange in
the familiar or trying to reconcile dreams and reality. Echoes of these
concerns, centered on the human figure, can be found in this gallery. Some
photographers used anti-naturalistic methods—capturing hyperreal, close-up
details; playing with scale; and rendering the body as landscape—to challenge
the viewer’s perception. Others, in line with Sigmund Freud’s definition of
“the uncanny” as an effect that results from the blurring of distinctions between
the real and the fantastic, offered visual plays on life and the lifeless,
the animate and the inanimate, confronting the human body with surrogates in
the form of dolls, mannequins, and masks. Photographers influenced by
Surrealism, such as Maurice Tabard, subjected the human figure to distortions
and transformations by experimenting with photographic techniques either while
capturing the image or while developing it in the darkroom. Additional
photographers on view include Aenne Biermann (German, 1898 - 1933),
Jacques-André Boiffard (French, 1902 - 1961), Max Burchartz (German, 1887 -
1961), Helmar Lerski (Swiss, 1871 - 1956), and Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz
(Polish, 1885 - 1939).
ANDRE KERTESZ ( AMERICAN, BORN HUNGARY 1894 –
1985 )
DISTORTION #126 - 1933
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1933 - 1939
Dimensions Image: 20.3 × 34 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Estate of André Kertész
HERBERT BAYER ( AMERICAN, BORN AUSTRIA 1900 - 1985)
HUMANLY IMPOSSIBLE 1932
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 38.9
× 29.3 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Acquired Through the Generosity of Howard Stein
MAX BURCHARTZ ( GERMAN 1887 – 1961 )
EYE 1928
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 30.2
x 40 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Acquired Through the Generosity of Peter Norton
MAURICE TABARD ( FRENCH 1897 – 1984 )
SOLARIZED FILM 1936
Gelatin Silver Print - Print Date 1936 - 1955
Dimensions Image: 24.1 x 12 cm - Mount: 24 × 18 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Gift of Robert Shapazian, by Exchange
MAURICE TABARD ( FRENCH 1897 – 1984 )
UNTITLED 1928
( HAND ON WALL WITH SHADOW )
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 17.7
x 22.9 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
RAOUL HAUSMANN
UNTITLED - FEBRUARY
1931
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1931-1933
Dimensions Image: 13.7 × 11.3 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© 2014 Raoul Hausmann/Artists Rights Society (ARS),
New York/ADAGP, Paris
RAOUL HAUSMANN
UNTITLED - FEBRUARY 1931
DESCRIPTION
As a key
member of the Berlin-based Dadaists, between 1918 and 1922 Raoul Hausmann
exhibited assemblage sculptures, collages, and photomontages made with
magazines and newspaper clippings. Being a Dadaist, he dissociated himself from
photography— considered a positivist medium—in a 1921 unpublished manifesto
titled “Wir sind nicht die Photographen” (We are not the photographers), but by
the late twenties he had taken up photography in earnest, making
straightforward images of landscapes and plants before turning to more
experimental works on light and optics.
Hausmann made
this untitled image in February 1931, during his intensive years of
experimental photography and prior to his departure from Berlin in 1933. The
model is his second wife, Hedwig Mankiewitz-Hausmann, who is pictured in other
of his photographs from early that year. This print is among Hausmann’s more
modest small formats from the early 1930s. He enlarged the image onto double
weight paper with a semireflective surface and later trimmed the print;
Hausmann printed on a range of paper types but favored German Agfa-Brovira
papers. On the verso, the presence of adhesive residues along the top and
a faint dark spot at the top center, possibly due to adhesive
residue, indicates that this print was previously attached to a support,
perhaps as part of a photomontage or other presentation.
Hausmann took
at least two other images of this model and mirror, most likely at the same
time. He used one in an untitled photomontage exhibited
in Fotomontage,a show organized by his friend César
Domela-Nieuwenhuis and mounted in April–May 1931 at the Staatliche
Kunstbibliothek in Berlin. Hausmann published this image in the Cologne-based
review A bis Z, in May 1931. In 1946 he included another version in
two other photomontages: L’Acteur (now in the collection
of Institut Valencià d’Art Modern) and an untitled work
in which he kept only a part of the enlarged eye. In all the images, the
reflection in the shaving mirror magnifies the organ of vision, the eye, in
line with many avant-garde photographic works of that period. The round mirror
becomes a metaphor for the camera’s mechanical lens, which enables the operator
to see the world literally larger than life. In another untitled work (MoMA
1689.2001), Hausmann used a lens instead of a mirror to achieve a similar
magnification.
—Quentin
Bajac, Hanako Murata
JOHAN NIEGEMAN (DUTCH 1902 – 1977 )
UNTITLED 1926
- 1929
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 7.5
× 10.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
UMBO ( OTTO UMBEHR ) (
GERMAN 1902 – 1980 )
WARRIORLIKE FACE 1926
- 1927
Gelatin Silver Print - Print Date 1926–27
Dimensions Image: 17.3 × 12.2 cm - Sheet: 17.7 × 12.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© 2014 Umbo/Gallery Kicken Berlin/Phyllis Umbehr/VG
Bild-Kunst, Bonn
HARRY LACHMAN ( AMERICAN 1886 – 1975 )
UNTITLED STILL FROM THE MAGICIAN ( 1926 ) 1925
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 22.7
x 28.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
6- DYNAMICS
OF THE CITY
In his 1928
manifesto “The Paths of Contemporary Photography,” Aleksandr Rodchenko
advocated for a new photographic vocabulary that would be more in step with the
pace of modern urban life and the changes in perception it implied. Rodchenko
was not alone in this quest: most of the avant-garde photographers of the 1920s
and 1930s were city dwellers, striving to translate the novel and shocking
experience of everyday life into photographic images. Equipped with newly
invented handheld cameras, they used unusual vantage points and took photos as
they moved, struggling to re-create the constant flux of images that
confronted the pedestrian. Reflections in windows and vitrines, blurry images
of quick motions, double exposures, and fragmentary views portray the visual
cacophony of the metropolis. The work of Berenice Abbott (American, 1898
- 1991), Alvin Langdon Coburn (American, 1882 - 1966), Germanie Krull
(Dutch, born Germany, 1897 - 1985), Alexander Hackenschmied (Czech, 1907 -
2004), Umbo (German, 1902 - 1980), and
Imre Kinszki
(Hungarian, 1901 - 1945) is featured in this final gallery.
http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1496
ANDRE KERTESZ ( AMERICAN, BORN HUNGARY 1894 –
1985 )
GRANDS BOULEVARDS 1926
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1926 - 1935
Dimensions Image: 7.8 x 10.9 cm - Sheet: 8.4 × 12.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© Estate of André Kertész
ANTON BRUEHL (
AMERICAN, BORN AUSTRALIA 1900 – 1982 )
UNTITLED 1929
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1929–55
Dimensions Image: 25.3 × 20.2 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© 2014 Anton Bruehl Estate
CHARLES SHEELER( AMERICAN 1883 – 1965 )
FORD PLANT, RIVER ROUGE, BLAST FURNACE AND DUST CATCHER 1927
Gelatin Silver Print - Print
Date 1927 - 1944
Dimensions Image: 24.1 × 19.2 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Horace W.
Goldsmith Fund through Robert B. Menschel and gift of Lincoln Kirstein, by
Exchange
© 2014 The Lane Collection
CESAR DOMELA –
NIEUWENHUIS ( DUTCH 1900 – 1992 )
HAMBURG, GERMANY'S GATEWAY TO THE WORLD 1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1930–32
Dimensions Image: 40.3 × 41.9 cm - Mount: 48.5 × 49.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection funds, by exchange
© 2014 César Domela/ Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
/ ADAGP, Paris.
WALKER EVANS ( AMERICAN 1903 – 1975 )
VOTIVE CANDLES, NEW YORK CITY 1929 - 1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 21.6
x 17.7 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection. Gift of Willard Van Dyke and Mr. and Mrs. Alfred H. Barr, Jr., by
Exchange
FLORENCE HENRI ( SWISS, BORN AMERICA 1893 – 1982 )
UNTITLED 1928 - 1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 9.1
× 12 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Eulabee Dix, by Exchange
J. JAY HIRZ ( AMERICAN )
BROOKLYN BRIDGE IN RAINY WEATHER 1927
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 24.2
× 19.5 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
LEE MILLER ( AMERICAN 1907 – 1977 )
UNTITLED 1929
- 1932
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1929–39
Dimensions Image: 21.3 × 24.8 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. The Family of
Man Fund
© 2014 Lee Miller Archives, England
MARJORIE CONTENT (
AMERICAN 1895 – 1984 )
STEAMSHIP PIPES, PARIS
Winter 1931
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1931–65
Dimensions Image: 9.7 × 6.8 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Andreas
Feininger, by exchange
© Estate of Marjorie Content
JAROSLAV ROSSLER (
CZECH 1902 – 1990 )
UNTITLED 1924
Gelatin Silver Print With Pencil and Black Ink
Dimensions Image: 24.1
x 22.8 cm
Medium Gelatin Silver Print With Pencil and Black Ink
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Robert B.
Menschel Fund, by exchange
© 2014 Sylva Vitove-Rösslerova
UMBO ( OTTO UMBEHR ) (
GERMAN 1902 – 1980 )
MYSTERY OF THE STREET 1928
Gelatin Silver Print - Print Date 1928- 1932
Dimensions Image: 29 x 23.5 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Gift of Shirley C. Burden, by Exchange
© 2014 Sylva Vitove-Rösslerova
UMBO ( OTTO UMBEHR ) ( GERMAN 1902 – 1980 )
MYSTERY OF THE STREET 1928
DESCRIPTION
Trained at
the Bauhaus under Johannes Itten, a master of expressivity, Berlin-based
photographer Umbo (born Otto Umbehr) believed that intuition was the source of
creativity. To this belief, he added Constructivist structural strategies
absorbed from Theo Van Doesburg, El Lissitzky, and others in Berlin in the
early twenties. Their influence is evident in this picture’s diagonal, abstract
construction and its spatial disorientation. It is also classic Umbo,
encapsulating his intuitive vision of the world as a resource of poetic, often
funny, ironic, or dark bulletins from the social unconscious.
After he left
the Bauhaus, Umbo worked as assistant to Walther Ruttmann on his film Berlin, Symphony of a Great
City 1926. In 1928, photographing from his window
either very early or very late in the day and either waiting for his “actors”
to achieve a balanced composition or, perhaps, positioning them as a movie
director would, Umbo exposed three negatives. He had an old 5 by 7 inch (12.7
by 17.8 centimeter) stand camera and a 9 by 12 centimeter (3 9/16 by 4 ¾ inch)
Deckrullo Contessa-Nettle camera, but which he used for these overhead views is
not known, as he lost all his prints and most negatives in the 1943 bombing of
Berlin. The resulting images present a world in which the shadows take the
active role. Umbo made the insubstantial rule the corporeal and the dark
dominate the light through a simple but inspired inversion: he mounted the
pictures upside down (note the signature in ink in the lower right).
In 1928–29,
Umbo was a founding photographer at Dephot (Deutscher Photodienst), a seminal
photography agency in Berlin dedicated to creating socially relevant and
visually fascinating photoessays, an idea originated by Erich Solomon. Simon
Guttmann, who directed the business, hired creative nonconformists, foremost
among them the bohemian Umbo, who slept in the darkroom; Umbo in turn drew the
brothers Lore Feininger and Lyonel Feininger to the agency, which soon also
boasted Robert Capa and Felix H. Man. Dephot hired Dott, the best printer in Berlin,
and it was he who made the large exhibition prints, such as this one, ordered
by New York gallerist Julien Levy when he visited the agency in 1931. Umbo showed thirty-nine works, perhaps also printed by
Dott, in the 1929 exhibition Film und Foto, and
he put Guttmann in touch with the Berlin organizer of the show; accordingly,
Dephot was the source for some images in the accompanying book, Es
kommt der neue Fotograf! (Here comes the new photographer!).
Levy introduced Umbo’s photographs to New York in Surréalisme (January
1932) and showcased them again at the Julien Levy Gallery, together with images
by Herbert Bayer, Jacques-André Boiffard, Roger Parry, and Maurice Tabard, in
his 1932 exhibition Modern European Photography.
—Maria Morris
Hambourg, Hanako Murata
RAOUL HAUSMANN (
GERMAN, BORN AUSTRIA 1886 – 1971 )
UNTITLED C.
1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1960 - 70
Dimensions Image: 18.2 × 22.6 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Horace W.
Goldsmith Fund through Robert B.
© 2014 Raoul Hausmann/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New
York/ADAGP, Paris
PAUL CITROEN ( DUTCH, BORN GERMANY 1896 – 1983 )
METROPOLIS 1923
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 20.3
× 15.3 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
© 2014 Paul Citroen/Artist Rights Society (ARS), New
York/Pictoright, Amsterdam
IMRE KINSZKI ( HUNGARIAN 1901 – 1945 )
UNTITLED C. 1930
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 8.5
x 11.6 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Thomas Walther
ALEKSANDR RODCHENKO ( RUSSIAN 1891 – 1956 )
DEMONSTRATION 1932
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 29.6
× 22.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Shirley C. Burden, by Exchange
FRED KORTH (AMERICAN, BORN GERMANY 1902 – 1983 )
UNTITLED C. 1928
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 5.5
× 7.8 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of Robert and Joyce Menschel, by Exchange
DZIGA VERTOV (
RUSSIAN, 1895 – 1954 )
UNTITLED 1927
- 1928
Gelatin Silver Print - Print Date 1927 - 1932
Dimensions Image: 13.4 × 8.9 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
LASZLO MOHOLY - NAGY (
AMERICAN, BORN HUNGARY. 1895 – 1946 )
BERLIN, RADIO TOWER 1928
Gelatin Silver Print
Print Date 1928–36
Dimensions Image: 38.1 × 27.8 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection. Gift of Thomas
Walther
© 2014 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York/VG Bild-Kunst,
Bonn
SASHA STONE (
AMERICAN, BORN RUSSIA 1895 – 1940 )
THE EINSTEIN TOWER IN POTSDAM (THE COELOSTAT IN THE UPPER
DOME
THAT CATCHES AND PROJECTS THE LIGHT OF THE STARS INTO THE LABORATORY) 1928
Gelatin Silver Print - Print
Date 1928 - 1935
Dimensions Image: 23.1 × 17.4 cm
Credit Line Thomas Walther Collection.
Abbott-Levy Collection Funds, by Exchange
GERMAINE KRULL ( DUTCH, BORN GERMANY 1897–1985)
UNTITLED 1926 - 1928
Gelatin Silver Print
Dimensions: 16.9
x 22.9 cm
The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Thomas Walther
Collection.
Gift of David H. McAlpin, by Exchange
FACE
TIME BY MATTHEW S. WITKOVSKY
LOOKING FOR WORK
Photography came into circulation
around 1840, in the grand age of the bourgeoisie, and before it could be
accepted as art, it had to be shown to be honorable work. According to literary
historian Franco Moretti, “The creation of a culture of work has been,
arguably, the greatest symbolic achievement of the bourgeoisie as a class.”1
In his compactly sweeping study The Bourgeois (2013), Moretti traces the
rise and fall of this class, which he asserts has lately disappeared from
discourse, though its standards and aspirations remain everywhere embedded in
popular consciousness. Near the start of his chronology Moretti places Daniel
Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe (1719), whose protagonist, Moretti points out, puts in
far more hours tending to his abundantly wellprovisioned castaway’s
domain than the average English wage laborer did in the factory — even in
Defoe’s time of capitalism without fetters.2 Although the novel’s plot is
predicated on the total otherness of its solitary, uncivilized setting, Crusoe
demonstrates his continuing social value through over-compensation,
presumably to avoid the appearance that he is enjoying an endless island vacation.
Such a dilemma would confront photographers repeatedly across photography’s
first century, for their traffic in “instantaneously” completed likenesses
could seem unearned.3 The enduring Pictorialist movement, which began in
Victorian England in the 1880s and soon spread internationally among the middle
classes, explained the art value of photography largely in terms of expen
diture (of time and money), whether on complex printing processes or on
matting, calligraphic adornment, and other presentational devices. To be art,
it had to be serious effort: Camera Work, as Alfred Stieglitz called his
leading Pictorialist journal. The Pictorialists declared they were
striving for imagination, and in their love of soft focus and vague contours
they may have in fact unwittingly provided one of the more imaginative
analyses of their artistic inheritance: “many perspicuous details, adding up to
a hazy whole,” as Moretti terms the work of prose in Defoe’s great
novel.4 Pictorialism performed a cultural service by putting the haze on view.
Photographic modernism of the 1910s and ’20s overturned Pictorialist
compositional habits, to be sure, but its American contingent, in a sad cliché,
perpetuated the absolute insistence on effort as an index of artistic achievement.
The Europeans, by contrast, struck a remarkable balance between work and its
denial. At the Bauhaus, entire careers were made in photography taken during
“off hours,” such as group portraits of students perched on the dormitory
balcony or relaxing on the sand. These portraits emanate a lightness and
portability that applies as much to the personal relationships memorialized as
to the handheld cameras that memorialized them. Leisure scenes abound: the
repertory of Bauhaus professor László Moholy-Nagy’s photographic subjects, for
example, stretches from dolls, children, and house pets to foreign towns,
activities like bathing and sailing, and viewing platforms at tourist sites
such as the Berlin Radio Tower (MoMA 1793.2001) and the
Rothenburg cathedral. Modernist photographic portraiture in Europe — at the
Bauhaus and elsewhere — brought playfulness into the art world at an
unprecedented scale. Whether capturing the mock seriousness of Claude Cahun and
Gertrud Arndt costumed as mash-ups of respectable citizens with outcasts — the
soldier meets the vamp for Cahun; the mademoiselle meets the madam for Arndt
(fig. 1) — or the outright laughter of Czech surrealist Václav Zykmund holding
a light bulb with his teeth (fig. 2), (self-) portrait photography in Europe in
the 1920s and ’30s became an expression of the irrepressible.
“Irrepressibility” stands opposite to the bourgeois keywords that Moretti so
brilliantly analyzes, including “utility,” “seriousness,” “comfort,” and
“precision.” The opposition is so perfect that one could argue for European
modernist photography as a mere safety valve in an otherwise thoroughly
repressive civilization. “Containing one’s immediate desires is not just
repression: it is culture,” Moretti observes, offering as example an analysis
of Crusoe’s contorted narration as he reluctantly kills a mother goat and
her kid to ease his hunger.5 Not denial, but containment. In an analogous
fashion, leisure and even sleep — another great occasion for Moholy-Nagy and
many others to make portraits (e.g., MoMA 1688.2001) — have long been
understood as necessary but limited escapes from the otherwise all encompassing
world of work.
In that sense, no amount of fooling around could
seriously challenge the work a day life of the bourgeoisie. Only photography as
redolent of labor as labor itself might perform this analysis — and not
by imitating high art, which was itself conventionally understood as a
refuge or escape. August Sander’s life project, People of the Twentieth Century
(Menschen des 20. Jahrhunderts), gives such an analysis in exemplary
form. The very model of a bourgeois professional, Sander also turned his
thousands of sitters into citizens of an upstanding, thoroughly bourgeois
nation. Yet the signal feature of his great project was its necessary
incompleteness, a thoroughly sober form of irrepressibility. There could and
must always be more types of citizens to portray and add to the
infinitely expanding archive. This challenge to containment lay in the
very structure of Sander’s project. In addition, his encyclopedic undertaking
nuanced the terms by which the bourgeoisie typically made creativity into
labor, through close management and control. Products of an unstoppable
tradesman, Sander’s photographs hyperbolize the terms of Moretti’s analysis and
thus induce a reflection on those terms akin to Moretti’s own.
Sander gradually formulated his proposal to “map” the German character in portrait photographs, beginning at the start of the 1920s, some two decades into his career. The exceedingly ambitious plan to group all his existing and future portraits according to heteronomous portfolios of “types,” such as farmers, intellectuals, and women, depended on the outright incompatibility of its constituent subjects. This project would take shape as “a mosaic picture,” as the photographer later characterized it to fellow artist Peter Abelen.6 Sander pointedly displayed his photographs two per frame, and in
two rows, at the first public showing of his work-in-progress, in a Cologne group exhibition in 1927. Each portrait could be seen only alongside others. In the foreword to Sander’s 1929 book, Antlitz der Zeit (The face of our time), subtitled 60 Fotos deutscher Menschen (60 photos of German people), novelist Alfred Döblin pointed up the value of this approach, calling it “comparative photography.”7
One can
argue the other side, too: a mosaic is made of differently colored
pieces, but it does typically form a unified picture. Sander may be said to
have contained, not heightened, conflicting social truths in his portraiture by
assimilating his multicolored subjects to a graying bourgeois nation. To return
to Moretti’s keywords, one sees that it is work above all that unites the many
citizens portrayed by Sander, just as it is a bourgeois ideal of work that
defines Sander’s project, and arguably the general ethos of Neue Sachlichkeit
(New Objectivity), the movement to which his photographs are generally assigned
by art historians.
It is a constitutive fact of Sander’s photographs that
everyone, even intellectuals and the unemployed, has a job to do. Furthermore,
Sander shows service professions but no servants — each sitter appears in his
portraits as master of his or her occupation. Sander did not exempt himself
from these bourgeois values. Why should he? Photography was a respected part of
industrial labor and had been since the later nineteenth century. Portrait
photography was a trade, not a form of fine art, and Sander, like so many
others looking to be modern, explicitly distanced himself from colleagues who
strove for the qualities of fine art: “Nothing is more hateful to me than
sugarcoated photography with tricks, poses, and special effects.”8 Contempt for
Kunstphotographie was widely shared among progressive photographers as well as
avantgarde artists. What is surprising, in retrospect, is not that these
modernists disliked banalizing a potentially useful profession (photography)
with the trappings of fine art, but that, in Neue Sachlichkeit, not just photographers
but also so many modern artists — inheritors of a great tradition of
anti- bourgeois, anti-careerist bohemianism — depicted themselves
demonstratively as professionals. Painter Georg Scholz, in his selfportrait of
1926 “in front of an advertising column” (fig. 3), might be mistaken for a
banker, protectively overcoated as he fronts for a small universe of consumer
goods and advertisements that he could as well have financed or purchased as
painted. Scholz the creator carries no association with bohemians in this
canvas; he could even be an ad man or a product or graphic designer, a
maker of useful images, pictures that serve a purpose for capital.
Painting and photography of the Neue Sachlichkeit are aligned, beyond any
question of form or facture, in their shared assimilation to the bourgeoisie.
To this point, Sander’s chosen settings unprecedentedly conflate working and
living space. Although his subjects are identified by occupation, the spaces of
Sander’s portraiture emanate a comfort and intimacy typically associated with
the domestic interior, the single most vaunted bourgeois location. White-collar
professionals pose in their studies; painters sit
in chairs or stand in their studios; women of leisure
sway or relax in living rooms. Sander rarely photographed in a larger
work environment, such as a factory, a street, or an office building. Most
sitters are pictured against a warmly neutral background that suggests a
spatial refuge. Coming close for his exposure, and softening the focus around
their bodies, Sander made all his subjects look at home. Even a setting clearly
associated with gatherings away from home, such as the restaurant kitchen in
which the famous pastry chef greets the photographer (as one professional
to another), appears as a home away from home (fig. 4). The chef fills this
workspace with his bulk and solidly takes possession of it. His surroundings
dissolve from focus, as in a painting by Vermeer, so that the workplace becomes
a space of comfort. Comfort — cum plus forte, or “with strength” — is a word
that once meant succor but came to mean well-being: a state finely balanced
between necessaries and luxuries. Moretti observes that comfort is a key term
of desire for that class of humanity that need not worry over basic survival
but does fret at ostentation. “Comfort is no longer what returns us to a
‘normal’ state from adverse circumstances,” he writes, “but what takes
normality as its starting point and pursues well-being as an end in
itself.”9
What in Sander’s photographic project could disturb that
well-being? Only its state of perpetual incompletion. Scholar Susanne Lange has
asserted that Sander was aware from the start that his project must remain
forever partial, or what one could call, following Marcel Duchamp,
“definitively unfinished.” She cites as evidence his earliest written
announcement of People of the Twentieth Century, made in a letter to
photography historian and collector Erich Stenger in 1925: “As soon as my work
is completed, if one can even speak of completion in this context, I am
thinking to publish the entire oeuvre in an exhibition tour through various
cities.”10 The quixotic nature of Sander’s oft-expressed hope of publishing the
full series is of a piece with the inherent infinitude of his chosen task. He
persevered after the Nazis destroyed the printing plates for Antlitz der Zeit;
and he continued to make some new photographs as well as to promote his older
ones even after losing twenty-five to thirty thousand glass negatives in a fire
that consumed the basement of his Cologne studio in January 1946.11 (This after
the photographer had spent years secreting his life’s work around the
Westerwald countryside, to avoid its destruction by Allied bombs.) Nothing
would stop him — nor could the project ever find an end.
Sander repeatedly expanded an original list of seven portfolio headings that he had typed up in the mid-1920s, adding categories that addressed, for example, National Socialism. A true encyclopedist, he also wished to update and extend those subjects that had formed his earliest interest, creating subgroupings like “Farmers in the Second Half of the Twentieth Century.”12 The point of origin is clear, while the end point cannot even be imagined. It is only fitting that Sander’s son, grandson, and great-grandson have all continued to tend to his life project.13 The creator of a colossal monument to work creates more work even from beyond the grave.
At the same time, there can be no new photographs by Sander himself; his descendants are handling a mosaic to which further tesserae will not be added. Its incompleteness remains, perversely, its greatest promise, that of society as a montage without end. “Description as a form was not neutral at all,” Moretti writes, referring to the advent of realism in nineteenth-century literature and art: “Its effect was to inscribe the present so deeply into the past that alternatives became simply unimaginable.”14 Not so when the picture was conceived as a necessarily incomplete inscription. In that case there must always be more to write.
MACHINE
WORK
Sander was far from the only artistically ambitious
photographer attracted to portraiture in the 1920s and ’30s. To work in
photography and consider oneself an artist took a strong degree of
self-consciousness, which manifested itself most directly in portraits or
self-portraits in which the sitters are depicted alongside cameras. Such images
proliferated in the 1920s and ’30s; photographers, historically the
greatest advocates for their profession in print, now seemed delighted to
recommend it through pictures as well. Following in the lineage of mid-
nineteenth-century views of photographers standing surrounded by
assistants, chemistry vials, or other signs of mastery and knowledge, such
pictures would traditionally have been classed in the genre of the occupational
portrait. A self-portrait by Edward Steichen from around 1917 (fig. 5) is one
such modern example. Steichen, a protean character whose one life constant was
an unflagging hold on power, projects a confi- dence in his ability to connect
that was indispensable to a career spent taking portraits of the rich and
famous, from Auguste Rodin or J. P. Morgan to actresses such as Gertrude
Lawrence (MoMA 1869.2001). In his self-portrait (one of a few that he composed
just prior to joining the United States military as Commander of Aerial
Photography), the camera itself, shrouded in marginal shadow, is notably
insignificant compared to its artificially illumined operator.
It is the
machine that dominates its operator, by contrast, in many of the most
progressive portraits or selfportraits with cameras made in the early twentieth
century — again, principally in Europe. For one, the deference of the typical
occupational portrait toward its subject, which equates (as in the Steichen) to
a sense of distance, is replaced in these more progressive works by a
sense of proximity that can seem either intimate or claustrophobic. In
addition, the proud ego feci of artistic selfportraiture, which has a grand
lineage in painting traceable to Velázquez and Dürer, falters when the brush is
replaced by an imaging device that has its own, impersonal stare. As Paul
Citroen looked into a mirror to make his self-portrait in 1930, the camera on
its tripod looked with him (MoMA 1653.2001); and though he clearly pressed the
button, the third eye of the lens projected its own, monocular force of
capture, seemingly unbidden by the artist. Is this independence of the
apparatus the reason why Citroen’s fingers seem only tentatively posed
atop the camera body, and why his look —
lips apart, eyes raised slightly, head inclined
toward the machine as his body crouches unsteadily behind a far more
stable tripod — registers expectant uncertainty? The camera knew what it could
deliver. Citroen’s own sense of himself, by contrast, seems to have been as
unformed at the moment of exposure as the abstract background that rises
softly behind him.
Citroen had taken up photography suddenly in December 1926,
together with his close friend Otto Umbehr (Umbo), in a two-week
portrait-making binge at the Bauhaus that proved decisive for Umbo’s career.15
Unlike Umbo, who continued thereafter in photojournalism and other camera
ventures, Citroen made photographs only sporadically, although he did earn his living
in the early 1930s as a portrait photographer in Berlin and Amsterdam. Citroen
was also among the first to try to sell photographs as collectible art; exactly
at the moment of his experimental portrait sessions with Umbo, he wrote to
curator and dealer Hildebrand Gurlitt (in the news again recently,
via his hoarder son Cornelius Gurlitt, for the energetically selfserving
and exploitative career he led during the Nazi era) to propose that he
sell gelatin silver prints the artist made of his own photomontages, including
an already iconic work, Metropolis (City of My Birth) (Weltstadt [Meine
Geburtsstadt]) (1923; MoMA 1651.2001). Gurlitt, as Maria Hambourg recounts
elsewhere in this project, would in turn become an adviser to the
artphotography collection of Dresden manufacturer Kurt Kirchbach, likely the
earliest European private collection of vanguard contemporary photography,
which included at least three of Citroen’s photographs of his own
photomontages.16
That artists from a premier modern art school and a
leading art dealer were involved with photography suggests how high the stakes
for the medium as modern art had become — which makes the doubt portrayed in
Citroen’s self-portrait the more interesting to observe. While one would expect
to see Steichen’s look of selfassurance, or the outright heroism and virility
common to portraits of Edward Weston (MoMA 1908.2001), the tentativeness shown
by Citroen next to his apparatus is surprising and compelling. One sees
comparable expressions of submission to the camera in portraits of Citroen
taken by Marianne Breslauer and Umbo in the late 1920s. In the portrait by
Breslauer (fig. 6), Citroen seems to be halfheartedly shielding his blankly
gazing eyes from the glare of a light bulb (or perhaps an early flash). The
camera is intrusive and was welcomed as such in the ’20s — a bizarre
invitation to the invasion of privacy that has flagrantly become the norm
today, and that makes these nearly hundred-year-old portraits newly relevant to
our era of web cams and “selfies.” When Umbo depicts Citroen in “warriorlike”
paint (fig. 7), the makeup is stunningly out of step with the demeanor of the
man wearing it. Only half of Citroen’s face is painted, whereas all of him
seems riven by doubt: raised eyebrows, furrowed brow, slack lips and chin. Lit
and photographed from below, he should be preparing to deal a conquering blow
yet instead looks worried that he may be the captured prey. Portraits in and by
the Bauhaus circle were famously clownish (see MoMA 1808.2001 and 1916.2001),
but this one
shows a hurt that, while undoubtedly intended as
comic, appears all too serious in its woundedness.
Loss
and lack are common features of interwar portraiture in Europe, and they give
the camera more power than should logically be held by a mere instrument of
human interests. Looking at the portraits in the Thomas Walther Collection, at
least, one imagines the camera not as an auxiliary weapon but as a force of
command that enervates and even debilitates its bearers or subjects. James Joyce
sports an eye patch (fig. 8). Jean Cocteau covers his face — he hides and
cannot see (MoMA 1753.2001). František Vobecký, in the act of taking a picture,
converts himself into a shadow (MoMA 1896.2001). El Lissitzky is blinded and
overcome by his own drafting equipment (MoMA 1764.2001).17 On a lighter note,
Herbert Bayer regards with mock astonishment his arm turned to wood and
sectioned off (fig. 9) — a (perhaps vulgar) comedic recollection of World
War I, when wounded veterans in Austria and Germany were judged fit for
continued military action according to percentages of serviceability.
Many memorable photographic portraits from the interwar period involve a degree
of amputation. Often, such photographs bear clear signs that the wounding
is constructed, giving the camera machine an even more active role. Bayer
achieved his effect through montage — cutting and pasting — which he then “made
whole” through retouching and rephotography. In a 1927 portrait of Ruth
Landshoff (MoMA 1885.2001), Umbo scrubbed her nose off through overexposure,
either in the negative or in darkroom enlargement. The following year, graphic
designer Max Burchartz redefined cropping as vivisection in creating Lotte
(Eye) (Lotte [Auge]) (1928; MoMA 1646.2001), his one masterpiece in
photography. Burchartz took pains to preserve the sense of a living eyeball,
glinting with moisture, and he inpainted the eyelashes and eyebrow as well. But
he also registered Lotte’s shock, in what remains of her nose and lips, at
having her face halved vertically and sliced at the top and bottom by the
apparatus. The innocent girl has a bit of the cyborg in her stare. Her
remaining eye no longer connotes human binocularity, but rather the implacable
single eye of the camera.
In Lissitzky’s magnificent 1924 portrait of
Kurt Schwitters (fig. 10), the artist and poet from Hannover is likewise split
in two — but also doubled — as he recites his now classic concrete poetry
piece, the Ursonate (Primeval sonata, 1922–32). Schwitters has two faces here,
and the one with both eyes visible seems overcome by the other, in which
Schwitters’s right eye and open mouth assault the viewer: binocularity outdone
once more by a monocular stare. The basic principle of ego formation is cast
into question here, for the work must be understood as a shared creation.
Schwitters’s doubling is a metaphor for a collaborative effort — one in which
the camera operates as an equal partner with the two artists.
One could
deny the force of that partnership with the machine only at one’s peril. A
1916–17 portrait of Ezra Pound by Alvin Langdon Coburn (MoMA 1657.2001) depicts
the poet concentrating, with a show of mastery that suggests the photographer
is not
collaborating with his subject but rendering homage to
him. This portrait ostensibly transmits Coburn’s fealty to Pound, consistent
with Coburn’s decision to take the name and guiding concept of his Vortographs
(this portrait among them) from a movement declared by Pound just a few years
earlier: “The image is not an idea. It is a radiant node or cluster; it is what
I can, and must perforce, call a VORTEX, from which, and through which,
and into which, ideas are constantly rushing.”18 Yet the portrait,
deliberately left to chance, obeys not the will of the photographer but the
operations of his equipment, and it fails to flatter its model. Deploying
a setup of multiple mirrors and possibly multiple exposures,19 Coburn showed
Pound simply and wonderfully as a human vortex — that is to say, a chaotic mass
at whose center lies no all-commanding power but an unpredictably moving
void. Coburn suggested randomness, rather than mastery, as the guiding force in
his Vortographs; this approach in turn caused Pound to appear a prisoner of
swirling shards.
WORKER PORTRAITS
Important types of interwar
portraiture are missing from the Walther Collection, or figure in it only
marginally.
Lisette Model’s endearing yet unsentimental picture of
a middle-aged lady on the Lower East Side (MoMA 1788.2001), from 1942, is
nearly the only photograph to admit working- class subjects into a collection
otherwise populated by cultural and popular elites. Paul Strand had shown with
his famous 1916 photograph Blind that it was possible to depict individuals
from circumstances vastly different from one’s own with dignity and
personality. (Blind also gives an early example of the association of camera
work with wounding or disability.) But the most significant possibilities for
portraiture of working subjects were developed later, within the Worker
Photography movement, an internationally widespread tendency in photography of
the later 1920s and ’30s.20 Worker Photography generated far more sustained
bodies of portraiture, and also more innovations in portraiture, than could be
addressed through the making of single pictures.
One
such example is Kata Kálmán’s great book Tiborc (1937). Like Sander’s Antlitz
der Zeit, Kálmán’s is a book of portraits, but her subjects are all
agricultural or urban workers (figs. 11, 12). Kálmán, unlike Sander, was
looking for individuals rather than types; she brought her camera quite close
to most sitters, and named them all in her titles, giving in addition a general
job description (e.g., “factory worker”), age, and, most unusually, a brief
biographical sketch. Kálmán chose specificity over completeness. Her ambition
could not be nearly as grand as Sander’s, but it achieved, in word and
image, the ascription of subjectivity to working people — a rare accomplishment
for that time and one that deserves the term “portraiture” in the fullest
sense.
The Worker Photography movement boasted other class-based
innovations, principally in the areas of serial and collective portraiture,
text-image combinations, and photography in print. As an example,
composite portraits, pioneered in disparate ways by Stieglitz, Aleksandr Rodchenko, and Josef Albers in
the decade 1918–28, took an explicitly proletarian turn with “A Day in the Life
of a Moscow Working-Class Family.” Commissioned by the Agitation and
Propaganda Sector of the Comintern for a traveling Soviet exhibition in
1931, the story chronicled the joys and hardships of a family named Filippov.
Over twenty-eight pages and the cover of the Berlin weekly Arbeiter
Illustrierte Zeitung, the Filippovs were shown studying, working at the factory,
eating, playing chess, and even preparing for a game of tennis, in a mixture of
dramatized and deliberately undramatic images that the editors parsed in
lengthy captions. Extensive commentary accompanied its publication and its
reissue, in a strikingly different layout, in the Soviet magazine
Proletarskoe Foto later the same year. As historian Erika Wolf describes it,
the Filippov story, and especially the authenticity imputed to it by interested
political organizations, was “an elaborate media stunt,” but it did truly
change the terms for the portrayal of working people. Single and singular
pictures were forsaken in favor of cumulative, at times banal exposure to the
camera, and to a phototext narrative that constructed portraiture through
literary means.21
A radical destabilization of the individual ego was
achieved, meanwhile, in photographic “mass portraits,” such as views of
demonstrations taken by Rodchenko (MoMA 1825.2001), which were intended in fact
to discredit the genre of portraiture as a bourgeois inheritance insufficient
to the needs or the will of a revolutionary collective. Rodchenko found the
greatest expression of collective identity not in political rallies but in
sports, and his photographs of the Spartakiada competitions (fig. 13) remain
touchstones in the representation of countless bodies working as one. The
oxymoronic nature of the phrase “mass portrait” comes across with a real sense
of peril, meanwhile, in posters by Gustav Klutsis. In one of them (fig. 14), he
achieved a seductive yet frightening fusion between the man and machine
by replicating a view of a single hand — his own — numerous times to symbolize
unity among the working masses. (A 1926 self-portrait with a view camera [MoMA
1741.2001] likewise projects Klutsis’s confidence in the symbiosis of man and
machine.) In posthumanist politics, the single individual has no meaning
apart from the collective cause. The camera apparatus stands triumphant
behind Klutsis’s poster as a tireless laborer. Many of the brilliant portraits
gathered in the Walther Collection show people wounded, at play, and in other
states of unfitness for work; some of the images point by contrast to a
potentially limitless expenditure of effort. It is in Klutsis’s awesome poster
composition, however, that the latent insights contained in interwar
portraiture become fully manifest. Like a virus — an entity neither living nor
dead — the apparatus will follow its program of division and replication to
infinity. Awareness of such ceaseless invasiveness is the heritage of
photographic modernism. The monocular lens never stops working, nor, in
our own age, does it seem likely ever to become unemployed. It has become
the endless, faceless face of our time.
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MODERN PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THE THOMAS WALTHER COLLECTION 1909 - 1949
MUSEUM OF MODERN ART NEW YORK
December 13, 2014 - April 19, 2015