Category: art

As I was thinking of ephemerality, handmade paper, and Japan, and artists who should have been asked to make an Art Kite for Lufthansa in the 1980s, who should drift into view but James Lee Byars.

And as I was looking to see if Byars ever made a kite, I stumbled upon this sculpture of lacquered bronze. It’s melon-sized, 10 x 9 inches, but only half that high, flattened, like a giant Junior Mint. In a sculptural oeuvre full of marble, gold leaf, handblown glass and giant spheres, it is not the most remarkable object.

But what a history. It has been around. It was in the collection of Robert Mapplethorpe. Then in 1989, while the AIDS crisis and rightwing attacks on the arts—and on Mapplethorpe—raged, it was sold at Christie’s by the artist’s estate. And it was acquired by the American Medical Association. What its existence was like at the AMA is a mystery. Was it in the president’s office? On a pedestal? In a nook? In a closet? What we can know, presumably, is that after a couple of decades, someone looked at this giant, bronze Junior Mint and decided the organization would rather have $10,000. So they sold it at Wright, the local auction house in Chicago—where it actually brought in $31,250. Which probably left them feeling pretty good about their decision. No word on it since.

I guess I’ve never actually asked, but all this time I assumed that the books Jacob Kassay inserted his prisms into were all on an undisclosed reading list of some kind. An esoteric phenomenology syllabus, ex libris Alain Robbe Grillet, whatever, some kind of over-arching epistemology that may have been invisible on the scale of a lone volume, but that cohered in some way of the artist’s devising.

And that the glass prism was then crafted to fit precisely in a certain spot in the book—or at least in a certain volume—that, when you looked in, distorted and perhaps simultaneously revealed one piece of a larger informational puzzle.

And now I wonder if I have it exactly backwards, and it’s the wedges that are the drivers. Kassay has donated a glass & library book sculpture to the upcoming Printed Matter benefit auction [less than four days left to bid!], and the winning bidder will receive, “a dummy book and wooden dummy wedge to be used only to procure the correct format of library book.” So maybe there are instructions of genre or title, but it sounds like the determining factor is “correct format”? Which you test with a dummy wedge and dummy book?

Indeed, it’s right there, in the artist packet from Galerie Art Concept in Paris, which characterizes the wedges as glass sculptures, and the books as support:

“The positions of the glass wedges inside the library books are necessarily temporary. The wedges don’t belong to any particular book but rather shift from book to book like a hermit crab, finding the other book that precisely fits it. This is why I chose to house them in library books – as a kind of format logic which focuses on their qualities as objects, rather than as texts with specific content.”

And now the image of distorted texts is replaced by roaming wedges, ever in search of a new book—or at least ready to trade up if the fit is right.

Also, I found this comment from Kassay’s glass fabricator, that the wedges are “inspired by the façade of the Beinecke Library at Yale.” which, I assume is a reference, not to the translucent marble, but to the beveled granite lattice that holds it. Maybe I should just ask.

Speaking of pioneering 17th century Dutch naturalist and pineapple cultivator Agneta Block, this extraordinary watercolor with Block’s family crest and her medallion portrait was a painted for her by Albert van Spiers.

Based on the inscription, it’s thought to be the frontispiece for a collection of botanical illustrations Block commissioned from Johanna Helena Heroldt, who was the daughter of another botanical illustrator Block supported, Maria Sibylla Merian. At least 126 illustrations by Heroldt in three groups could be connected to the project for Block, who had one of the largest collections of exotic and rare flowers and plants in Europe.

Albert van Spiers, called Pirameid, design for floral frontispiece for Agneta Block, Arader Galleries [aradergalleries.com via Cynthia Kok/JHI Blog]

In 1733 Jean-Baptiste Oudry, 47, had been a painter to Louis XV for several years. He had a studio in the Tuileries and an apartment in the Louvre. He kept very busy being on call, painting whatever the king wanted painted. He painted the king’s hunt, both the action and his dogs and daily catch; he painted the exotic animals in the king’s menagerie. While cranking out paintings on demand for the king, he was also named chief designer for the king’s tapestry manufactory at Beauvais, and for the factory at Gobelins. And some time probably toward the end of the year, he painted a portrait of the first pineapple grown in Europe France*. [whoo boy updates below]

Continue reading “The Pineapple of Versailles [And Surrey] [And Vijverhof]”