ART NOUVEAU: Beyond its Flowering
ART NOUVEAU: Beyond its Flowering
By Cesare A.X. Syjuco
Published in: The Manila Times, June 13, 1987
THE stirrings of a new age shook the world even before the 20th Century had burst forth in a blaze of irrepressible energy. When the German arts journal “Jugend” (Youth) was founded in 1896, the age of aviation, of broadcasting and cinema, of women’s suffrage and global warfare, of Einstein and Freud, of the Curies and Henry Ford, were only scant years away. It was inevitable that art was to prophecy the coming changes in both its unprecedented restlessness and in its determination to transcend classical influences.
It was equally inevitable that the current exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Manila should make prominent mention of the term “Jugendstil” (or Youth Style, derived from the title of the aforementioned journal) — being that the show itself is German in origin, compiled and presented by the Goethe Institut. The more popular term for the genre in focus is “Art Nouveau” (French for New Art), a decorative manner that dominated the end of the last century and the early part of the present one, and which was characterized by dense floral patterning, sinuous lines, and dynamic contours.
The term “New Art” has always struck me as a little odd, particularly when it is used in reference to a once-fashionable genre of decorative embellishment (or design) that covered (or shaped) structural facades, typography, and common household furnishings. While the style did produce a wholesale outpouring of diverse examples in chairs and lamps, crystal and bronze, knick-knacks and edifices, it did not — strictly speaking — leave an indelible mark on the premiere disciplines of painting and sculpture.
This text-heavy exhibition throws some light on that lingering irony. Art Nouveau, it tells us, was born of a period in time when artists throughout the industrialized world had banded together and had determined to lay all classical precepts to rest. The predominant stylistic manifestation that initially evolved from this movement was certainly a radical change in itself, influenced by East Asian motifs and leaning heavily towards functionality via the applied arts. But it was the revolutionary spirit of the movement that was its most enduring legacy — its determination to explore possibilities previously shunned by the classicists.
Our interest in Art Nouveau, therefore, should be focused at least as much on its innovative and humanistic tendencies as on its stylistic manifestations. For while the style that is “Art Nouveau” is of significance only insofar as our abiding nostalgia for recent antiquities is concerned, the spirit of its humanism — delivering art into the active service of mankind — reaches out to touch us in our own daily lives, with Gropius’ “Bauhaus” linking them and now in a continuing commitment to an aesthetic of functionality and purpose.
Although the MET show succeeds in substantiating Art Nouveau’s continuing legacy, it fails, however, to give tangible life to a cultural epoch already obscured by time and conflicting terminology. There is nothing to imbibe or to relish here that a good book on the subject could not better provide. Falling far short of expectation, this is precisely the kind of knock-down show that acquits itself well enough when installed in an embassy pavilion — or in the kindred context of a public literary even. Comprised mostly of large photographic panels that look like enormous xeroxes, the collection appears to have been lifted directly from a college textbook, arbitrarily enlarged and spread out over the surrounding area. Indeed, the only “original” objects on display are four rather unremarkable-looking chairs that are dwarfed by the intended scale of the show. There are also a few large-format color transparencies housed in self-illuminated units; but apart from these, the exhibition is sadly wanting in color and texture, stranded in mid-stream as pale-faced documentary with neither spirit nor flesh and blood.
Again, this is material that would be much more comfortable trapped between the bindings of a book. One has to do so much reading in this case that it would take days to weave through the show at a leisurely pace. And if the eye-strain doesn’t kill you, the oppressive heat at the Metropolitan Museum probably will. (The Museum is now air-conditioned. — Ed.)
On the other hand, the accent-opening display of “Philippine Art Nouveau” centers on a few chairs, picture-frames, wall-hangings and sundry other accessories that line an enclave underneath the stairs. Frankly, I have seen better examples and a great deal more variety in antique shops off A. Mabini. In stark contrast to the German show, the data provided here is sparse and at best peripheral, consisting of a small bi-lingual notation recounting the pioneering efforts of one Isabelo Tampinco, sculptor, who “in 1895, created Philippine Art Nouveau using the Anahaw and Abaca Palms, banana leaf, and lowly sweet potato vine” as his ornamental elements.
The German exhibit of “Art Nouveau/Jugendstil” at the MET, coming as it does after an impressive string of comprehensive shows presented in cooperation with the Goethe Institut Manila, is a generous source of information and insight for both the infinitely patient and the compelled. For the most part, however, it is unfortunate proof that art exhibits are best seen and not read.
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Cesare A.X. Syjuco, “ART NOUVEAU: Beyond its Flowering” (page 1 of 1), The Manila Times, June 13, 1987
