Sunday, January 15, 2017

The Blues

I've had my eyes opened recently to modern art. I've never thought of myself as someone who would look at a modern piece of art and decry "But that's not art!", but neither had I actively engaged with it. Lazy rather than a philistine. However, a group trip to Tate Liverpool as part of my doctorate course forced me to engage with a range of modern art forms. I looked at felt suits, piles of clothes, lines round rooms, neon signs and an unmade bed. Some were OK, some were a bit "whatever" (Tracey Emin's 'My Bed' was one of these - I was moved neither to joy, laughter, confusion, anger, or anything at all), and some made a real connection with me.

The ones that connected most with me did it in a range of ways. Colour is, perhaps, the most obvious. Yves Klein's work really spoke to me. Yes, I'm sure the critics will explain that his use of one colour in most of his work was a joke on us all as consumers of art (or something like that). Indeed, a colleague and I stood in a room full of his IKB (International Klein Blue) paintings, having never heard of it or him, and tried to discern infinitesimally small differences in the colour blue, not knowing that they were all exactly the same. But, what a glorious colour!  A garden incorporating this in some way would be a garden incorporating delight. A quick internet search shows that Yves Saint Laurent's garden in Marrakesh made beautiful use of the colour; perhaps it looks better in the stark light of a warmer country that in the dreary north west of England. If I were brave enough, perhaps I would dare to paint a corner like this.

Form also connected with me. There were works by Barbara Hepworth and Henry Moore, the forms of which connect through their tactile nature (not that you can touch them!) but also those with a more fluid form - 'Untitled' by Robert Morris was a black tangle of flowing, falling felt. Colour notwithstanding, the form of this artwork shows the importance of connecting verticals with the horizontal. In the garden, this can be done in a range of ways with plants. At one extreme we have the formal upright of a columnar conifer, piercing the sky. But this artwork suggests a more fluid way to link ground to sky, perhaps with the use of wall-mounted containers and opulent trailing plants. A hanging basket with attitude.

There is so much more I want to think about; for example, Krasinski's use of a simple blue line to provide unity through his art works and to draw the viewer to become part of the exhibition is an idea which could transfer so well and easily into a garden scheme. Not necessarily as a line painted through the garden, but through use of a repeated, almost continuous plant or colour through a bed or beds, picked up with ornaments or furniture, and continued through the garden.

So many thoughts. Probably so many more blog posts. I need to visit again.


VP said...

And what sounds like a massive project pending for the garden HM :)

Debbie said...

I've been to Yves Saint Laurents garden, its mostly shady has huge bamboo's everywhere so maybe it would work in this country. It is a beautiful garden

HappyMouffetard said...

Ha ha, VP. I'm tempted but perhaps not *all* of the artists I was taken by.

Hi Debbie. That sounds interesting - I'll have a longer look at some of the information on it. Thanks for the comment!