In identifying individuals with the potential to shape the
trajectory of modern art, one would hardly single out an eccentric
psychologist. Nevertheless, the musings of Sigmund Freud, just such an
individual, hurtled artists like Masson, Breton, and Pollock into a
decades-long frenzy of self-discovery and paradoxically obsessive free
expression.
In
identifying the traces of Freudian psychoanalytic theory on modern art, one
would hardly turn to a source as pedestrian as LIFE magazine. And yet, a strong
case can be made that David Seymour’s 1948 photograph “The Blackboard, Poland” owes
a portion of its intellectual lineage to the work of the surrealists and the
action painters. As commonly interpreted, the image of Tereska is an appeal for
foreign aid to war-scarred Europe. While this reading is virtually undeniable, it
fails to capture the breadth of the piece’s significance. Seymour’s photograph
of Tereska finds its place in a broader tradition of psychoanalytic themes in 20th-Century
art.
Freud stated that the truest human urges, desires, and
identities are shrouded in the subconscious, waiting to be dredged up to the
surface. His psychoanalytic theory
rested largely upon interpretation of images drawn from dreams, fantasies, and
spontaneous expression.[1]
This collection explores the
image as access to the subconscious mind of the artist.
Andre Masson, “Automatic Drawing,” 1924
Automatic drawing, pioneered by Andre Masson and the
surrealists, emerged in response to the philosophy of Sigmund Freud.
Surrealists turned to the technique in hopes of tapping into their own
subconscious. Masson created Automatic
Drawing instinctively, with no forethought or overarching vision. The
resulting composition contains a knot of lines and forms, including partially
formed hands and misshapen hearts. For Masson, the objects and symbols
signified sublimated desires and highlighted the inadequacy of the physical
world.[2]
Ink on Paper
9 ¼ x 8 ½ in.
Museum of Modern Art (MoMA)
873.1978
Andre
Breton, Landscape, 1933
Breton’s juxtaposition of
images and symbols remembered from dreams purportedly forms a window into the
artist’s deeper levels of consciousness. The reclining couch at the bottom of
the composition alludes to a psychotherapy session, while the legs, lips, female
form, and high-heeled shoe suggest sublimated sexual desire. Though Freud’s
influence in surrealist art is widely recognized, Breton and his fellow
Surrealists rejected the notions of “cure” and “normalcy” implicit in Freudian
psychoanalysis. Instead, they embraced subconscious desire as a creative
force—one that could be explored and harnessed.[3]
Colored
pencil on black paper
9
½ x 12 ½ in.
281.1937
Jackson Pollock, “Untitled (Psychoanalytic Drawing,” ca.1939-40
Pollock sketched
“Untitled (Psychoanalytic Drawing)” during a Jungian psychoanalysis session
designed to treat his acute alcoholism. The page does not contain a unified
composition, but rather a variety of small sketches. The simplified figures and
geometric forms echo Pollock’s interest in non-western artistic traditions. As
is the case with most psychoanalytic drawings, interpretation of “Untitled” is
extremely difficult. Even its purpose remains elusive. Some have suggested that
it indicates Pollock suffered from a profound mental disorder, while others
argue that it is nothing more or less that a window into Pollock’s creative
genius.[4]
Colored pencil on paper
14 ¾ x 11 in
Metropolitan Museum of Art
1988.340.1ab
Hans
Namuth, “Jackson Pollock,” 1950
Hans Namuth’s photo series of Jackson
Pollock captures a previously veiled aspect of Pollock’s art. Unlike earlier
painters, whose creative process centered on a vision of the final piece,
Pollock privileged the process of creation over its product, affirming William
de Kooning’s claim that “The canvas is an arena within which to do art.” Like
automatic drawing, de Kooning and Pollock’s action paintings sought to index
the inner state of the artist—to serve as an expression of being.
Gelatin
Silver Print
National
Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution
Accession
Number N/A
David
Seymour, “Pablo Picasso in front of Guernica, Paris,” 1936 (printed 1982)
Like Namuth’s image of Jackson Pollock,
this photograph captures an artist in association with his creation.
“Guernica,” a mural-sized painting, expresses the Picasso’s horror at the
merciless German bombing of the city of the same name. Seymour’s placement of
Picasso in front of the painting integrates the artist with his composition.[5]
Picasso adopts a stern demeanor, his right hand posed in a gesture of
contemplation as shadows obscure half of his face. His defiant gravitas and
Seymour’s choice to integrate him into the composition create a sense that the
painting surrounding the artist is, in some sense, an extension of himself.
Gelatin
Silver Print
12
x 8 in.
National
Gallery of Art
2008.122.38.2
David
Seymour, “The Blackboard, Poland,”1948
“The Blackboard, Poland” depicts a
young girl named Tereska whom Seymour encountered in a home for mentally
disturbed children. The photograph’s original caption states, “Children’s wounds
are not all outward. Those made in the mind by years of sorrow will take years
to heal”[6].
Tereska’s placement within the composition links the photograph to that of
Pollock, who appears in the act of creation, and Picasso, whose figure is
integrated with his composition. The psychoanalytic themes attributed to those
earlier photographs appear equally valid here.
Gelatin
silver print
48
x 35.4 cm
Metropolitan
Museum of Art
59.559.70
[4] Karmel, Pepe. "Endnotes." In Jackson
Pollock: Interviews, Articles, and Reveiws, 258. New York, New York: Museum
of Modern Art, 1999.
[5] "Spanish Civil War." Chim: David Seymour's Humanist
Photography. National Gallery of Art. Accessed April 24, 2015.
[6] "Children of Europe: Christmas Finds Many
of Them Still in Great Need of Help." LIFE, January 27, 1948,
16-17. Accessed via Google Books.
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