Simple Embodiment

What is simple?

Not much.

If we define “simple”, what comes to mind?

Plain, without ornament, adornment, development or ingredients?

Maybe it means “less said” .

Or somewhat vacant, just implied, or maybe straightforward?

What about easily understood?

Or the minimalist phrase less is more coined by Mies van der Rohe (earlier by Robert Browning), a German architect and designer, to imply that simplicity, clarity, clear lines, plain surfaces, and bare essentials are or should be the modernist standard.

In yoga we hear “find the quiet”, simply BE.

In meditation the goal is to “be silent”, and without distraction – a simple mind.

In early twentieth century painting, one of the “simple” styles was a form of abstraction (meaning abstracted from reality) that was an abbreviated approach to a figure, a scene, or a still life. Matisse’s The Dance is an example.

Henri Matisse (1869-1954): The Dance, oil on canvas, 102.2×156.6, 1909, Museum of Modern Art, NY

In America, one of the most captivating contemporaries of Matisse was Milton Avery (1885-1965).

In Avery’s 1945 portrait, “Husband and Wife”, we see color become form, describing in its flat, thinly painted layers, a private world turned public. 

Milton Avery (1885-1965) Husband and Wife, oil on canvas, 33 3/4 x 44, 1945, Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, Connecticut

Art always has an intent.

So “read this painting”.

Who is larger? What does this mean? A narcissistic pose?

Look at the postures, the body language. How do you interpret their relationship? untethered or alienated? Or is she just nodding off? bored? dismissive?

Or is this a man with his thoughts enclosed and his wife listening?

They barely have a mouth.

Why is his face red? What does red mean – anger, a bad temper, a sunburn, a skin irritation, danger, importance?

And the limp plant, leaning down, unwatered? not cared for, or a prop for balance? a nod to domesticity?

Perhaps if there is less on the face of a painting, there could be more underneath……

What do you think?

Milton Avery: The Artist’s Wife, 1930

Avery is not dependent on the academic standards of the early nineteenth century or traditional perspective. He is not political. His compositions and his choices of colors are carefully considered, not ordinary. His subjects are from his everyday life.

Milton Avery: Bucolic Landscape, oil on canvas, 32×48, 1945, Albright-Knox Art Museum, Buffalo, NY

Avery’s landscapes are among his most popular works. HIs colors in the landscapes are as carefully considered and unique as those in his portraits.

What surprises you the most about this painting?

When asked to talk about his paintings, he said “Why would you want to talk when you can paint?”

Avery was from a working class family. His first job at age 16 was in a factory. He then studied illustration, attended the Arts Student League in NY, and met his wife Sally Michel in 1924. She supported them with her career as an illustrator. They both painted at home – together.

The Black Mountain School (1933-1957) is not only a North Carolina legend but an American one where artists, dancers, poets, writers, musicians, performers, actors, photographers, architects, weavers, potters, and the fully inspired experimented with a new form of education – and the “Who’s Who” of visiting artists and teachers shared studios and living grounds with students who became explosive names of fame in all of the arts. The motto there was BE FULLY AWAKE.

Marianne Preger-Simon (1929 – ): Merce Cunningham, drawing, Black Mountain College Museum,
Asheville, NC

Marianne Preger-Simon is a dancer and was a founding member of Merce Cunningham’s dance troop in NY before coming to the Black Mountain School in the summer of 1953.

While at the school, she did many “simple” drawings of students and faculty including John Cage, Paul Taylor, Carolyn Brown and others. Her understated style in her portrait of “Merce” raises questions.

Is the drawing finished?

What does it say – or not say – with no mouth?

And what does it say about Merce as it is – how do you read it?

Any clues that this man is a choreographer?

What does the openness mean? Are we to finish it?

Does it need to be completed, or does less inspire us to see more?

Would you describe it as simple or loaded?

Marianne Preger-Simon was also a choreographer, writer and psychotherapist. She is the author of a highly acclaimed book, 2019, Dancing with Merce.

Constantine Brancusi (1876-1957): The Newborn, marble, 5 3/4 x 8 1/4 x 5 7/8, 1915,
Philadelphia Museum of Art, PA

Constantine Brancusi’s Newborn could be described as the simple embodiment of a three-dimensional life form.

What is the first thing you see?

An egg?

Perhaps a metaphor for a cell, a life, a newborn creature?

And what is the moment portrayed here?

We almost hear the squall.

How do you interpret the indentation, or gesture, on the head? Why is it there?

Imagine holding the “newborn”.

He or she or they would be heavy and cold.

Marble inspires polish and perfection. This oval is reduced to a symbol, the moment of origin.

Brancusi was born in Romania. He was from a peasant family, and as a young boy herded sheep. He had a talent for carving and eventually found formal studies in Bucharest before ending at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris. He was a contemporary of Matisse and Avery.

Is this a “more can be done or created with less” message?

(Measurements are in inches.)