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Secessionist Symbolism and Femmes Fatales
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Gustav Klimt
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Nothing survives from this deliberately conducted campaign except
the tangible evidence of photographs and one partial reproduction of
the vanished masterpieces - and the bitter recognition of the
impotence of the artist pilloried by censorship. Klimt was never to
become professor at the Academy; but before those who mocked him he
held up the mirror of "naked truth" - Nuda Veritas.
"To art its liberty", wrote Hevesi on the pediment of the Secession
House. Klimt wanted to be completely free, wanted to think and paint
without being dependent on official commissions, and in this he
received the support of several loyal patrons. Before the Vienna
University scandal he had met Nikolaus Dumba, the son of a Greek
businessman from Macedonia with contacts in the Orient, who had made
a fortune in banking and the textile industry. The interior
decoration of his office had been done by Hans Makart. After
Makart's death, Klimt became Dumba's most favoured artist. It was to
him that the furnishing, accessories and decoration of the music
salon in the Nikolaus Dumba Palais were entrusted. This included two
supraportal pictures, the first of which shows Schubert at the Piano, while the second,
Music II, is of a Greek priestess
with Apolline cithara. The first harks back nostalgically to the
lost paradise of a well-placed, carefree society that enjoyed the
diversions of music in the home. The second is quite different in
style and points the way to a world of symbols expressed by the
Dionysian power of music. "In these two pictures", wrote Carl E. Schorske,
"bourgeois serenity and Dionysian unrest confronted one another in a
single room. The Schubert picture shows music-making in the home,
with music as the artistic high point of a secure and well-ordered
way of life. The scene glows in a warm candlelight that softens the
outlines of the figures, so that they melt into convivial harmony...
Klimt makes use of Impressionist techniques in order to replace
historical reconstruction by nostalgic evocation. He presents us
with a lovely dream, glowing but incorporeal - the dream of
innocent, pleasure-giving art in the service of an untroubled
society."
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Schubert at the Piano
1899
Klimt in the unthreatening guise admired in Vienna, with the
sentimental bourgeoisie's
favourite composer, to round off their
delight.
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Gertha Felsovanyi
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This was the Klimt whom Vienna loved, an unthreatening Klimt who
enchanted even the most conservative public, rewarding their
applause by giving them even more than they had expected - the
composer Schubert, hallowed object of their sentimental veneration.
Klimt reserved his most flattering style for his patrons in Viennese
society. This was evident in his Portrait of Sonja Knips, and is evident also in the gentleness of the subsequent "wives"
portraits, of Gertha Felsovanyi or Serena Lederer, and in
Emilie Floge. Yet the women in these
portraits always have the same serene air of reverie: they look at
the world, and at man, with a sense of melancholy but also of
detachment. Klimt's "horror vacui" is intensely concentrated in
their monumental presence. His eclecticism allows him to draw now on
Velasquez, now on Fernand Khnopff. From the one he takes the manner
of painting the bouffant hair-style and the contours of the chin;
from the other, certain characteristics of the femme fatale. There
is invariably something crushing in the apparent passivity of his
subjects.
Whenever Klimt was not working for a patron, he seemed to throw off
all restraint and paint as he truly willed. A quite different type
of woman entered the picture, dangerous and instinctual, as in
Pallas Athene and Nuda Veritas. Appearing first in the design for "Ver
Sacrum", she therefore became known as the "daemon of the
Secession". The second version, an oilpainting 2.6 metres high, marked the breakthrough of Klimt's new "naturalistic" style.
The public was shocked and confused by the provocative red-headed
nude with red-haired pubis, no Venus but a larger-than-life Nini, a
creature of flesh and blood severing the links with the traditional
idealisation of female nudity in art. The pubic hair alone was a
declaration of war on the classical ideal. The Schiller quotation
served as commentary, reinforcing the provocation and pre-empting
the ensuing public rejection: "Though you cannot please all men with
your deeds and with your art, yet seek to please a few. To please
the multitude is not good." The first version, published in "Ver
Sacrum", was headed by an equally elitist quotation, from L.
Scheffer: "True art is created by a few, to be appreciated by a
few."
Judith I and, eight years later, Judith II
are further realisations
of Klimt's archetypal femme fatale. His Judith is no biblical
heroine, but rather a typical Viennese of his own epoch, as
demonstrated by her fashionable if costly dog-collar necklace.
According to Bertha Zuckerkandl, Klimt was creating a type of woman
comparable to Greta Garbo or Marlene Dietrich, long before these
women came to tame (and before the term "vamp" achieved common
currency). Proud and dismissive, yet at the same time mysterious and bewitching, the femme fatale
casts her spell over the - male - observer.
The pictures cannot be viewed independently of the gilded frames
that give them an iconic quality. The frame of the first version was
made, incidentally, by Klimt's brother Georg, a goldsmith. The
ornamentation of the painting is carried over into the frame in a
manner very popular at the time which had been developed by the
Pre-Raphaelites. The pictures also show the influence of the
Byzantine art which Klimt had seen on a journey to Ravenna. The
deliberate contrast between the plasticity of the finely modelled
and coloured face and the two-dimensional surface of the
ornamentation is a distinctive feature of these pictures; it creates
an effect almost of photomontage, and contributes greatly to their
charm. The figures on the van Eyck brothers' Ghent altar are often
cited as formal precursors.
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Portrait of Serena Lederer
1899
Klimt knew how to appeal to the
prosperous Jewish citizens of Vienna, who supported the Secession;
he painted their wives with a full measure of charm, and with a
trace of haughtiness.
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Emilie Floge, 1902
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Portrait of Emilie Floge
1902
Emilie Floge was Klimt's great love, his companion to the end of his
life. She ran a fashion house, and he designed materials and dresses
for her. His patterns looked as if they had been cut from the
background of his landscape paintings.
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Without doubt, Klimt found in Judith a compelling symbol for justice
wrought by woman on man, whose atonement is in death. In order to
save her city, Judith seduced Holofernes, the enemy general, and
then cut off his head. The Old Testament heroine is the perfect
example of courage and decisiveness serving an ideal, the castrating
woman... In this biblical figure, Eros and death are united in the
familiar conjunction which the fin de siecle found so intriguing,
another example of the castrating woman, with shameless power to
confirm the most perverse fantasies, being Richard Strauss's
"Mycenaean ruler", bloodthirsty Clytemnestra.
Klimt's Judith was bound to antagonise a section of Viennese
society which was otherwise willing to accept his infringements of
taboos, namely the Jewish bourgeoisie. This time he was breaking a
religious taboo, and the viewers could not believe their eyes.
Commentators opined that Klimt must have been mistaken in his claim
that this ecstatic, indeed orgasmic, woman with her half-closed eyes
and lightly parted lips was the devout Jewish widow and courageous
heroine, who with never a trace of pleasure had executed the
terrible mission assigned her by heaven and beheaded the dastardly
Holofernes, leader of the Assyrian army. Surely, people said, Klimt
must have been thinking of Salome, the typical femme fatale of the
fin de siecle, who had already fascinated so many contemporary
artists and intellectuals, from Gustave Moreau to Oscar Wilde,
Aubrey Beardsley, Franz von Stuck and Max Klinger. Well-meaning
souls repeatedly listed the "Judith" pictures under the title
"Salome'" in catalogues and journals. Whether or not Klimt did
actually assign to his Judith the characteristics of Salome remains
uncertain; whatever his intentions, the result was the most eloquent
representative of Eros and of the fantasies of a modern femme
fatale.
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Anna Bahr-Mildenberg as Clytemnestra in
"Electra" by Richard
Strauss, 1909
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Judith I
1901
The association of sexuality and death, Eros and Thanatos,
fascinated not only Klimt and Freud but also the whole of Europe at
the time; a shuddering public was gripped by the spectacle of
Clytemnestra's blood lust in the opera by Richard Strauss.
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Yet Klimt was not only familiar with the femme fatale. While his
compositions for the Great Hall of the University were still causing
a stir, he, cultivating his garden like a latter-day Candide, turned
his attention to landscape painting, taking as his starting-point
the Impressionist and Post-Impressionist landscapes. There could be
good grounds for seeing Monet as the model for some of Klimt's early
landscape paintings, such as The Marsh (1900) or
Tall Poplars II
(1903). As a landscape painter, however, Klimt offers a bold
synthesis of Impressionism and Symbolism. The brush strokes of the
dissolving forms are reminiscent of the Impressionists, but the
schematisation of surfaces, often displaying the influence of the
Orient, is typical of Art Nouveau. Unlike the Impressionists, Klimt
shows little interest in weather, in the play of light and shadow.
As in his portraits, he constructs enamelled mosaics, combining
naturalism with schematism. This is evident when one compares such
pictures as After the Rain, Nymphs or the
Portrait of Emilie Floge with
Beech Forest:
in his landscape paintings, as in his portraits and allegories,
figures and shapes appear as it were in relief against a setting of
planar ornamentation.
The forest scenes, such as Beech Forest or Beech Forest
I, resemble a tapestry in which Klimt invokes a kind of
eurhyth-mic spirit, creating recurrent patterns with grouped
vertical and horizontal lines. Van Gogh assisted the breakthrough of
modern painting with all the power of despair, whereas Klimt was
more a silent harvester, the sensuous shimmer of his landscapes
enhancing their floral ornamentation and symbolic signification. The
diverse mosaics that swallow up the horizon and negate space offered
relief from the "horror vacui" that tormented him.
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After the Rain (Garden with Chickens in St Agatha)
1899
Klimt's landscape paintings are equally important and informative.
The chickens stand out in quasi-relief from the surface of the
painting; as symbols of nature's fertility, they correspond to the
erotic syntax of his portraits.
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Beech Forest
1902
Klimt brings to his landscape paintings the same sensuousness that one finds in his portraits. He
applies to the rich tapestry effect an element of eurhythmic spirituality, with recurrent
vertical and horizontal groupings.
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Beech Forest
I
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The fact that his landscapes show no sign of people helps us to
understand that Klimt actually treats them as living beings, and
since woman is the chief protagonist in his work, we may conclude
that he treats his landscapes as women. Does not the gown worn by
Emilie Floge in the first 1902 portrait look as
if the material has been cut from one of these forests, to cling to her like a second skin? Klimt
chose this gown so that her slender silhouette might appear to full
advantage; small wonder then that it almost gave rise to another
scandal in Vienna. Even his mother protested at the newfangled dress
that was so very out of line with the frills and flounces currently
in vogue.
In Klimt's portraits, the dress is no less important than the model.
In a subtle way it serves to unveil the woman's personality,
heightening the effect of face, neck and hands. Ingres may be seen
as a classical precedent; his portraits likewise give full
expression to sensuousness. For both artists, clothes have the same
essential function as bodily organs, or rather, they become organs.
Gaetan Picon's comment on Ingres could be applied equally well to
Klimt: "Nothing is more sharply, more subtly Ingres than the harmony
of neck and necklace, of velvet and flesh, of shawl and coiffure; or
the line in which breast encounters low-cut gown, arm encounters
elbow-length glove. If these portraits of women have an especial
glow, it is because they emanate from the radiance of desire; they
come to us in covert nakedness..."
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