Skip to main content

Anselm Kiefer, 'Myrtis', 2002

 


A collection of monolithic, monochromatic and freestanding dresses construct Anselm Kiefer's Women of Antiquity series, begun at the turn of the twenty-first century and revitalised by the artist in 2018. Exhibited most notably in his so-called 'studio' La Ribaute, these luxuriously tactile gowns have subsequently travelled across both exhibition venues and the art market. Mytris, who is weighed down by the book which constructs the head of the figure, is one such example.

Kiefer, today, is one of the most talked about artists. A slow rise to fame has now blossomed into exhibitions that have drawn on literary references (Finnegan's Wake at the White Cube in 2023), expositions detailing his earlier working life (at the Ashmolean in early 2025), or his connections to canonical artists (Van Gogh/Kiefer at the RA which recently concluded). His colossal canvases suck a viewer in, his colours are captivating, as the artist draws on themes of violence, spiritualism, desolation and human nature, ideas which clearly resonate with a modern day audience. However, the Women of Antiquity series is less typical of Kiefer - these are not 20 meter canvases and they are not overburdened with colour. As Mytris proves, colour is secondary to texture, in a dress which is conceived of clear layers. There is a heaviness to the material and its folds, almost clinging to one another in a linearity that is reminiscent of the classical 'wet look' one finds on the Parthenon frieze, for instance. In Kiefer's work, there is a clash between the modern art historical language of forceful materiality, and the classical origins of subject matter. This combines with the fact that his sculptures are designed to be viewed in the round, a particularly important feature of Renaissance and Baroque works. The coming together of history and tradition gives Kiefer's pieces a timelessness, which is perhaps why they continue to appeal.

The heavy book that flops down on the shoulders of the figure links back to the title of the work and the identifying feature as Mytris of Anthedon, likely an unknown name for today's viewer - information only comes from a short summation by the Greek philosopher Plutarch, who describes her as a poet. Allegedly, a bronze statue was made of Mytris, however, details are vague. Weighed down by her knowledge in Kiefer's portrayal, she is no femme fatale but a woman of strength who celebrates her occupation. The huge array of figures covered by the Women of Antiquity series not only suggests the impressiveness of Kiefer's own classical knowledge, but highlights the potential of art in the modern age to revitalise figures from the past that might otherwise have been lost to history. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

John Everett Millais, 'Peace Concluded', 1856

  My eye is drawn to the copy of The Times clutched in the hands of the officer. The white of the figurine on the man's knee and the white of his wife's sleeves all serve to make the white paper stand out even more on the canvas. As the title of the painting suggests, this is about the end of the Crimean War, seemingly depicting a soldier who has just returned home, surrounded by his family, but the mood is perhaps less euphoric than you might expect. The soldier seems somber and weary, and his wife has a look of concern. Although on the surface it seems to be quite a harmonious composition representing a close knit and traditional family, the positioning of the man is odd. It is his wife who takes her place at the apex of the triangular composition, the soldier is reduced to an emasculated role, perhaps an invalid, as suggested by the blanket over his legs. Her face is passive, but not exactly positive. With her arms draped around her husband, she looks posed, dutiful but not...
Post a Comment
Read more

Ernst Barlach, 'The Avenger', 1914

  On the advent of both the First World War and the artistic movement known as Futurism, Ersnt Barlach cast this work in bronze. The eye picks out an angular, horizontal form, a sense of hurried pace and strong facial features to this work by the German Expressionist artist. This piece is highly interesting when discussed in terms of the artist's oeuvre - Barlach entered the First World War with a clear attitude of patriotism. The sculpture reflects that, as the figure seemingly thrusts forward wielding a sizeable weapon above his head, leading the charge head on. Describing the sculpture as his 'raging Barbarian' it is clear that Barlach wanted to present an emotionally charged figure. Perhaps it is even a self portrait, with Barlach picturing himself as the hero. The artist did in fact serve briefly as an infantry officer. However realisation soon dawned and patriotism quickly dwindled. All of Barlach's sculptures from this point onward are influenced by the horror an...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egon Schiele, 'Dead Mother', 1910

  My eye is drawn to the hand. Those long, bony fingers are so characteristic of Schiele but here they are particularly skeletal and deathly – the veins seem to have been injected with poison. And they are a warning right in the foreground of the painting that keeps the viewer at bay as an outsider to this incredibly intimate relationship between mother and child, and sets the tone of death and mortality which hangs over the whole image. The mother cradles her child in a womb-like shroud, alluding to childbirth and the death of the mother explained in the title. She seems desperate to feel that bodily connection with her child, highlighted by the emphasis on her craned neck as she tries to connect to the baby. There is a clear link between the mother’s bent neck and the child’s bent neck, again emphasising their longing to be with each other. However, the darkness around the child is almost like ropes, with flecks of white in the painting making it look as though the darkness is wo...
Post a Comment
Read more