This time students at Columbia University have gotten it right. More than 1,200 of them have signed a petition protesting the proposed installation of Henry Moore’s modernist sculpture Reclining Figure (1969-70) in front of the university’s elegantly neo-classical Butler Library.
According to Roberto Ferrari—the curator at Columbia’s art and architecture library, who announced the forthcoming installation—the piece was “meant to suggest the form of a woman with her legs outstretched before her, propping herself up with her forearm.” But who would guess that without (or even with) the work’s title? A more apt reading is the one offered in a Columbia Spectator op-ed by three undergraduates and a recent Columbia College alumnus. They likened the work to “a dying mantis or a poorly formed pterodactyl,” further noting that it is “so repulsive that when thieves stole Moore’s original cast, valued at £3 million, they literally chopped it up and sold it for scrap” (as reported in The Guardian).
None of the op-ed writers, I might add, are art students—which may help to explain their frankly irreverent response to a work by “one of the most influential and celebrated British artists of the 20th century,” to quote the New York Times. Art students, no doubt, would have been cowed by Moore’s exalted reputation.
As further noted by the Times, Moore’s sculptures are “on public display in parks and plazas around the world” and “reside in major museums.” Indeed. As I note in Who Says That’s Art?, however, I have never once observed a passerby actually looking at the Reclining Figure by Moore that is prominently installed in Lincoln Center Plaza, for example.
So perhaps it’s high time to reassess Moore’s exalted reputation.
The Real Person!
The Real Person!
I have not argued that Moore was either a charlatan or a fool. But I would argue that, seduced by the misguided mystique of abstraction, he created work that was at best failed art, and therefore does not merit our attention.
Applying robust criticism to his work, I would say that a piece intended as a reclining human figure but compared by reasonable people to a praying mantis or a pterodactyl suggests that the abstract “language” Moore employed is the visual equivalent of gibberish. Understanding art should not require technical or abstract knowledge comparable to math. As the esteemed cultural historian Jacques Barzun once advised: “Talk and thought about art must conform to the canons of common sense.”
The Real Person!
The Real Person!
My thanks to Karen and Kim for your astute comments, and for Kim’s kind remark about the blog.
In answer to his question, aesthetic values and criteria are no longer at play in today’s artworld, which tends to disparage the very term “aesthetic.” With respect to the Moore piece at Columbia, for example, all that matters is the name recognition—the mere fact that he is “one of the most influential and celebrated British artists of the 20th century,” widely cited in art history texts. No one in charge really looks at the work or responds honestly (as the protesting students did) to what they actually see.
Regarding con-men as artists, I wouldn’t put Moore in that category. I think he was instead among the sincerely deluded who actually believed he was creating something of value.
It is human not to like what you do not understand. I hated Math classes because I never learned how to understand the language. . . . It seems equally immature to condemn the entire field of abstract sculpture, assuming that practitioners are charlatans or fools.
I agree that the artwork selected is not similar to the classical architecture of the stately building. Perhaps the choice calls attention to the vast difference between ancient Greece and New York City’s Broadway in 2016.
A respected art critic, Roger Kimball, said it better than I can: ‘. . . the real issue is not whether a given object or behavior qualifies as art but rather whether it should be regarded as good art. In other words, what we need is not definitional ostracism but informed and robust criticism.”
This is a typical example of how an installation of art is going to be placed out of context with its surroundings. And here I mean both the architectural context to the surrounding buildings and the so-called “usage context” itself, the location being a University setting where students need motivational and inspiring input in their daily work and thinking.
What could be the aesthetic criteria and aesthetic values behind this placement? I have no clue whatsoever.
I’ll be glad to hear your elaboration on this!
Finally: This is a great blog. Keep the blog posts coming!
Good for them! I remember when the Picasso sculpture was installed in Chicago in 1967… there was a general public outrage! Everyone was debating it and I recall most folks thought it was a monstrosity and did not consider it art… we have come a long way from the common sense of the general public to the blindly accepting masses that say nothing when some twisted piece of rusted metal is installed in front of their public buildings for colossal sums…
How about a new book: “When Con-Men Pose as Artists”. :)