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M.K. Ciurlionis, 'Funeral Symphony VII', 1903

 


There are many who have been left out of the art historical canon and Lithuanian artist and composer Mikalojus Ciurlionis is one of them. Producing over 200 musical works and 300 paintings, his career was extensive, prolific and multifaceted. Yet, he was a 'genius cursed by fate' according to artist and critic Alexandre Benois, dying from exhaustion in 1911. Praised within his lifetime, Ciurlionis is virtually invisible today, especially to a Western viewer. Describing one artwork by Ciurlionis is not enough to appreciate his diversity and synthesis of artforms - pastels, as this work shows, vignettes, oils, designs for stained glass, even abandoning the easel for cardboard. More importantly, he was indebted to the Lithuanian landscape. Ichiro Kato refers to him as 'Lithuanian in nature and national feeling...a genius from the Baltic lands', reflected in works including Serenity depicting idyllic, peaceful settings of mountains and lakes, devoid of humanity. Like many artists of the time, Ciurlionis was creating his own collection of symbols and the Lithuanian landscape was one he would return to repeatedly, whilst also percolating into his musical compositions, just as fantastical and mystical as his artworks. 

Yet the only way for Ciurlionis to be accepted during his lifetime was to be labelled as a 'Russian' artist - he was going to get no appreciation for celebrating his Lithuanian roots. It must be mentioned that in 1909 he did indeed travel to St Petersburg to exhibit his work Rex at the 'Salon' there, set up by critic and aesthete Makovsky. Subsequently, Rex has been the only work that has interested Western critics, because of its connection to the Russian artistic milieu. Again, this approach highlights how little can be gleaned about this eclectic artist from just one work alone. In fact, Ciurlionis was not just striving for symbolism and an escape from reality, he was working towards a synthesis in his art. He combined music and art, he combined style and form. As Vladimir Lerner has noted, he is closely related to the Gesamtkunstwerk of Baudelaire and Wagner. 

The pastel painting from his Funeral Symphony is a silent, contemplative scene. A lone, unidentifiable figure stands cloaked and invisible within a dark palette, whilst a sense of emptiness and loneliness is perpetuated. There is a certain spirituality to this piece from the cloaked, mystical figure, which writers have often identified in Ciurlionis' work. Roman Rolland describes this as an 'exploration of a new spiritual continent, the Christopher Columbus of which was Ciurlionis'. But in reality, the artist was less like Columbus and more like the William Morris of Lithuania in his synthesis of style, form and media. He was a spiritualist, a symbolist, a surrealist, as well as a performer and musician. His works are often dissonant, as Funeral Symphony implies. He is a man, like this work suggests, who has been knocking on the door of the artistic canon, waiting patiently outside for many generations, but will not be let in because of his versatility. Art historians have difficulty dealing with multifaceted artists that do not conform to traditions of categorisation. Clothed here in the dark robe of forgetfulness, he remains outside our knowledge of art history, barred from entry. Research in the Western world is undoubtedly needed to tear away that grey shroud so that Ciurlionis can claim his rightful place in the history of art.

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