|
There are differences, nonetheless, in the ways and degrees to which a fragment mobilizes associations from its original context, from its own content (in the case of words), or from our knowledge base, and these differences may be laid out on a scale of semantic density vs. purely visual abstraction. Stamps, for example—those very popular collage items—can be little gems of pattern and color, or they can evoke the culture that chose to represent itself with them (hints of the exotic, other people's heroes, and so forth), or, especially if cancelled, they mark an event of passage through the mails and the time, date, and place of sending can sometimes be made out. They may suggest separation, or reaching out—in short, the whole act of letter writing and what it might entail. We thus arrive at the most semantic end of the scale, where what the stamp looks like is not nearly as important as that it is a postage stamp. I will explore this scale in four areas, those of:
|
Figure 3.26 |
When Picasso started making collages in 1912, he cut many fragments from newspapers— columns, headlines, advertisements, whatever. Christine Poggi sees this as an anti-salon art move, since newspapers are extremely consumable and were regarded as "common" in his time by many refined spirits. The fragments were large and legible enough to engage viewers as a readers, teasing them to complete the cut off words and bearing various glancing or ironic relations to the other themes of the painting ( the work of scholars is summarized by Poggi, p. 148). Braque and Gris also used newspaper, though less of it than Picasso. Occasionally, the newspaper becomes the texture surface of an object, as it does for example in the Braque work "Violin and Pipe: Le Quotidien" instanced earlier, where it is the surface of a pipe. The text, as it were, runs beyond the flat planes of newspaper and onto objects as if they were paper mache. Hans Haacke saw the possibility of imitating the early collages but with the newspaper text making a direct, topical point. "Violin and Cigarette: Picasso and Braque" refers to a Picasso and Braque exhibit at MOMA sponsored by Philip Morris. Braque's pipe is replaced by a cigarette (also with text on it) and the newspaper strip, upside down in Braque, is rightside up for better reading. And the reading is about using trade sanctions to open up other countries to American tobacco products during the Bush administration. Haacke will not let Philip Morris (and numerous other companies, elsewhere) wash away its deadly machinations and wrap itself in the mantle of patron of the arts—the very art itself doth cry out against it. Here the newspaper becomes a vehicle for bringing economic and political facts to light. Which is to say it is a newspaper column functioning like a newspaper. An unsympathetic critic might say that what Haacke has done is travesty Braque's collage in order to execute one of his tedious anti-corporate exposes, and this message has nothing whatever to do with art or Braque or cubism. The refutation of this foolishness is left to the reader as an exercise. The list of artists who have included readable pieces of newspaper (more than just title words) reads like a roll call of Cubists (Picasso, Braque, Gris), Futurists (Boccioni, Severini, Carre), Dadists (Schwitters, Baader), and other notable members of the avantgarde (Man Ray, Joseph Cornell, Claes Oldenberg). |
Figure 3.27 |
By way of contrast, it is worth taking a look at another contemporary artist who uses newspaper but much more as a material and texture. Gary Wortzel is a Seattle artist who has a small site of smallish images, which is not so good when you are trying to read newspaper, but I assume the originals are large enough to see. He composes with torn strips of photographs and newspaper, and he has carried the technology of newspaper collage into the digital age with the invention of transparent newspaper. Actually, it appears to vary in opacity and to displace edges as if by refraction. Wortzel uses this "material" elsewhere as well, where light seems to project through it casting the print shadows on the nude torso. At times the effect is rather like strips of paper mache or transparent tape waiting to be applied. One becomes so entangled in figuring out what is going on that the paper ceases to be readable (also, the strip "columns" are too narrow and too much is missing). Elsewhere, Wortzel uses fragments of newspaper for plane areas in faces. All of these effects move newspaper well back along the scale to purely formal texture. |
|
A very common source of images for many collages is magazines: these can be cut up and reworked and nobody complains. And the most common source within magazines are the advertisements. Adverts can be appropriated in diverse ways. One way is that of Bernie Stephanus, whose work we have looked at in the preceding section. Stephanus raids the magazines for their images of women, clips away the logos, slogans, and text, and pushes the image so that it cracks and slips out of its seamless slickness. It is, as we say, about "images of women" in contemporary French magazines. The text and the incessant tying of image to product name and corporate logo is simply bracketed away. |
Figure 3.28 |
Pierre Robin is a young medical intern in Lyon who also clips French magazines and collects postcards, candy wrappers, perfume packaging and other useful bits of debris. He has also put together a sizeable body of collage which he presents online for free. Figure 3.28 illustrates his characteristic fondness for bright, highly saturated primary colors--itself a sharp break with the tradition of subdued color that goes all the way back to the earliest days of Picasso, Braque, and Gris. (Of course, our printing technology has greatly extended the range of printable, relatively permanent color.) The piece, Perfumes, makes extensive use of perfume boxes and a few adverts with brand names prominent, if sometimes disrupted. The fragments are carefully cut and shaped, not torn, and he uses triangles here and even more elsewhere to produce dynamic movement not seen in collage since the futurists and constructivists. In his piece "12 Hands" he even produces the nearly unheard-of effect of recession into the picture plane! In "Perfumes," one feels a celebration of focussed visual intensity rather than a critique of the arousing of spurious desires and false promises of glamour, elegance, and sex appeal. I do not see the pointy olive-colored things around the eye as threatening or sadistic but as echoes of the eyelashes; echoing is favorite compositional device for Piro, as can be seen in the next image. Here the eye with flare staring straight at you counterbalances the shaded and downcast gaze. "But this is pure structuralism," you say, "where is the critique of ideology? What does the eye on which all the diagonals converge, the eye that stares straight at you, mean?" |