The Metamorphasis

No, literature heads, this is not about Kafka (sorry) – but another K, de Kooning. I attended a lecture last week given by a MOMA curator promoting the museum's exhibit, de Kooning: A Retrospective. While previously unfamiliar with de Kooning’s work, I found the lecture quite fascinating for two reasons: first, that without context I would have disliked de Kooning's work, and secondly, that his work is the result of a constant evolution. Keeping first things first:

1.  1.  Context

De Kooning is one of those (I borrow the art term) “abstract expressionists” whose work usually translates to confused head scratches from the public. Like Picasso, it evokes a sort of visceral confusion, with some viewers loving the obtuseness and other complaining, “What IS this?”  This is a famous question that art enthusiasts usually refuse to answer - evasively responding that art is whatever you see within it. But de Kooning did give a bit of color on one of his works, titled "Attic" (below).

In this piece, I initially just saw squiggly lines - but our instructor explained that de Kooning called the work "Attic" because it mirrored the attic in a house, where you throw together pieces from your past and present into a big jumble. De Kooning believed in giving "glimpses" in his artwork, where you think for a moment you see shapes, but then rapidly loose the image. So too our attics are full of individual items that blend into many memories, and a single memento can have different meanings for different family members.

With the context of explanation, I had a new appreciation for the work - seeing it less as squiggly lines a child could produce, and more as a thought-provoking composition of items. What do you see in the "Attic"?

2. Evolution

The second key is evolution – understanding how de Kooning's final product was really a subtle metamorphosis of experiences over time.

Take a look at the below string of artwork. The beginning is a pencil sketch done by de Kooning in art class, followed by "Seated Woman" (who scholars think is probably de Kooning's wife), which shows some abstractness in the shape of her arms but which is largely identifiable. From here, de Kooning follows with the women theme but gets more and more abstract (see "Pink Lady," then "Pink Angels," and "Woman 1"). Let's just say that on it's own I would find "Woman 1" to be quite scary - but taken in context of de Kooning's growing shift into abstract-ism, it makes a bit more sense.

           "Still Life"                                       "Seated Woman"                 "Pink Lady"

"Pink Angels"                                                            "Woman 1"

The bottom line? Context and evolution matter - and they apply to our lives as well. While we usually think of ourselves as unbiased, in reality our evolving sense of purpose is constantly shaped by our own current and past experiences, and a single event may not make sense without information from other events. What in our life would confuse a stranger but makes sense to someone who has grown up with us? How would a different past alter the shape of our current selves?

It is important to reflect not only on our own context, but others' as well.  We cannot understand where our peers/friends/family are and where they are going unless we understand where they are coming from. A great example of necessary context is a politician: in order to understand their proposals we must dissect their motivations, and in order to know their motivations we must examine their past. Why are they in politics? What are their past affiliations? When are they next up for re-election?

Everyone has a motivation, a reason and past that affects their choices. Our challenge is to understand their context, like de Kooning's, and allow that to illuminate our understanding of their lives.