The Wise Women of Valdés

Monumentales Egeries, Avenue George V

Monumentales Egeries, Manalo Valdés, Avenue George V, Paris

Art is a language. The study of art history begins (and continues) by amassing a visual vocabulary so that you are increasingly conversant in that language. A common parlor game for art historians is ‘name that source.’ That is, determine what figure in what painting by what artist, can be linked to a figure or figures in a painting by an earlier artist. Two very rich sources of inspiration for artists were the sketches of battles by Leonardo (1503) (Figure 1) and Michelangelo (1504) (Figure 2) on the same wall of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence. Neither cartoon (sketch) became the fresco it was intended to become, but sketches and drawings and paintings by artists who made the pilgrimage to Florence to see them, for the 60 years they remained in situ, in their unfinished state, meant that for centuries (no exaggeration), artists both famous and forgotten, found ways to incorporate the figures of one or the other or both into their work.

Riff. I looked up the word to make sure that the way I am going to use it here, is the commonly acknowledged definition of the word. And to my surprise, I saw that it wasn’t, except in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary online (maybe offline, too. I don’t know) So, I am going to use the word, but I will tell you what I mean by it. To me, a RIFF is a variation on a theme, an interpretation. Obviously for me that something is usually art, nearly always art, but it can also be a film or a book, sometimes even a television show. The creators of The Simpson’s and Seinfeld were masters of the genre, one episode of the Simpsons that I remember fondly referenced The Graduate, an episode of Seinfeld referenced A Streetcar Named Desire and of course the 1995 film Clueless was a riff on Jane Austen’s 1815 Emma.

Riffs on the work of earlier artists might be called quotations. The artist whose paintings incorporated references to earlier works did so because the earlier artist’s work offered solutions to their own compositional conundrums. They weren’t exactly stealing but they didn’t necessarily want the viewer to know that the figures in their work had a source other than their own genius. Fellow artists would have known and connoisseurs would have, too. A friend of mine, for her Ph.D. orals exam had to identify the source of figures in paintings by unknown artists. Parlor game, easy exam. Bernard Berenson, who we discussed a few weeks ago, had an acute eye and mastered the visual language of art to a level seldom, if ever, attained by anyone else, before or since. He was a master of that parlor game.

Figure 3. Omar Victor Diop, Diaspora Series

There are other kinds of riffs, too. For example, Omar Victor Diop, who we talked about last week, found inspiration in paintings that he turned into photographs, giving them a sports spin in his Diaspora series (Figure 3). He was not the first one to mix stuff up, give an old image a new meaning. There is the well-known engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi of the Judgement of Paris, the right hand corner of which Manet copied for his Dejeuner sur l’herbe, which is a verbatim copy in a totally different context. (Figure 4, Figure 5)

Figure 6. Standing Guard, Opera Gallery, Mark Sijan, 2018

Today we are going to talk about yet another sort of riff as we look at the work an artist who, with both paintings and sculpture, found inspiration in the paintings of an earlier master. I came upon this artist’s work a few years ago when I was staying on rue Boetie, in the 8ème. On the nearby rue Faubourg St Honore, there are a fair number of art galleries. As I walked along this elegant rue, I would, of course, casually glance in the windows. Of course my glance was casual at the time, because at the time, all the museums were open and interesting exhibitions abounded. But one art gallery grabbed my attention, because of a very startling sculpture in the doorway by Marc Sijan. (Figure 6) I decided to go in and it was then that I noticed a huge sculpture that I recognized immediately as a reference to a painting I know and love. The painting is Las Meninas, by the 17th c Spanish master Diego Velázquez. (Figure 7) What it depicts is not completely clear, even though the people depicted have, for the most part, been identified. In the center foreground is the Infanta Margaret, the daughter of Philip IV and his wife, Queen Mariana. With the Infanta are two ladies in waiting or meninas (hence the painting’s title) To the child’s right are two dwarfs and a dog. A mirror on the back wall reflects the upper bodies and heads of the little girl’s parents. Velázquez has included himself in the scene, on the left, palette and paint brushes in hand, looking out at us, at a canvas in front of him, at the king and queen whose reflection we see behind him.

Figure 7. Las Meninas, Diego Velazquez, 1656

It was the larger than life size sculpture of a Menina (Figure 8) in the gallery which I recognized. I admired it because it was an homage to a painting I love and also, and of course I suppose as importantly, it was gorgeous. And I continued to admire it each time I walked by during the month I stayed in that apartment on rue Boetie.

Figure 8. Las Meninas, Manolo Valdéz, Opera Gallery, Avenue George V

As it turned out, this year, on March 19, hours before the new rules and regulations of our third, and counting, confinement were set to begin here in Paris and all the art galleries, boutiques and ‘non-essential’ stores were closed (except for hair salons which you may argue are essential, but I won’t) Erin asked me if I wanted to go to Sotheby’s and see the Van Gogh that was going up for auction a week later. We met at the Maire in the 9ème and wandered along the Place de la Madeleine where we visited one of my favorite chocolatiers, Patrick Roger who is also a sculptor about whom I will write sooner than later if this confinement continues. Just before Sotheby’s, I tricked Erin into one last stop and that was at the aforementioned gallery. I told her to ask the guard something (I can’t remember what) and when we walked in, she was as startled as I had been to realize that the guard was a statue. Then I showed her the huge sculpture after the Velázquez painting. When a gallery employee asked if he could help, both Erin and I told him that we had seen the same sculpture on Avenue George V. And he said yes, that the gallery in conjunction with the George V Committee had organized an exhibition, comprised of 10 statues by the same sculptor, many of which, but not all, were after Les Meninas. Before we left, we went upstairs to admire another huge Menina, in wood, many different woods, with their various colors and grains going in their own interesting and companionable directions. I didn’t touch it of course, but it was gorgeously tactile. (Figure 9)

Figure 9. Las Meninas, Manolo Valdéz, Opera Gallery

Erin and I were at that gallery, the Opera Gallery on Friday. On Sunday I decided to check out the sculptures on Avenue George V again. It was a short metro ride but I could have driven, I mean if I had a car because with all the restaurants and bars and bistros closed, and most everybody at their maisons secondaire, it was so empty I could have walked in the middle of the street, so I did. I had exited the metro in front of the Louis Vuitton mega-store which usually has a line of eager shoppers/bloggers/influencers, whatever, waiting to get in, but it was so blissfully quiet, I could examine the fabulous windows in peace. I’ll tell you about them another time. But now I want to concentrate on the 10 sculptures that are the open air art gallery along both sides of Avenue George V, from Louis Vuitton on the Champs Élysées until just beyond the American Cathedral of Paris, a little before the Seine and Pistacherie, the tiny boutique that sells pistachios, which is open, even on Sundays. Pistachios, essential? Sure, chocolate, too. There are five sculptures on either side, large enough to make an impact on an avenue of grand and gracious batiments, like the Prince de Galles Hotel and Hotel George V.

Have you noticed that I haven’t told you the name of the sculptor yet? It is Manolo Valdés. And because his name may be new to you, herewith a very brief biography. Valdés is Spanish, he left school at 15 to become a full time artist. Five years later, he had his first solo exhibition. Good career move. That was 1962, almost 60 years ago. At first, his work was infused with political content. That is until Franco died. (Do you remember the first season of SNL [1975] when every week Chevy Chase announced that Franco was still dead?)

Initially Valdes’ work incorporated Pop Art and Figurative Art which, after all the abstract art of the previous decades, was experiencing a revival in the 1960s. (Figure 10) Valdés experiments with different types of paint and different kinds of surfaces. His sculptures are of natural materials, like wood, bronze and stone; and man-made ones, like aluminum and resins. Since the beginning, he has looked to the work of great artists of the past, for inspiration.

Figure 10. Las Meninas, after Diego Velázquez, Manolo Valdéz, 1960s

Valdes explains it this way, “I take an image from another artist and reread or reinterpret it.” Valdes works simultaneously on both a painting and a sculpture, because “the reading and interpretation of the original image will become deeper and more complex. I never know (which) I’m going to be more interested in…, so I work on both simultaneously. What amuses me the most is to repeat the same image while transforming it. A single creation is not enough to tell everything”.

As I have already noted, one of the masters to whom Valdés has been drawn since forever is Velazquez. Another is Picasso. Two Spanish artists separated by 300 years. Picasso was, like Valdés still is, fascinated by Velazquez. And Picasso would be the first to agree with Valdes that “(a) single creation is not enough to tell everything”. Picasso’s interpretations of Velazquez’s Las Meninas are at the Picasso Museum in Barcelona. All forty five versions. (Figure 11) Picasso explained it this way, “If someone wants to copy Las Meninas, entirely in good faith…and if that (some)one was me, I would say…I'll try to do it my way, forgetting about Velázquez. So, little by little, that would be … my Meninas”. What to call what Picasso did - assimilation, appropriation, interpretation?

Figure 11. Las Meninas, after Diego Veláquez, Pablo Picasso, 1957

Valdes describes his process differently, calling himself ‘…a narrator who comments on the history of painting in various ways, using new materials: it is like a game that consists of changing the code and the key to the artwork… Many of my colors, materials and textures are the product of relived experiences of other masters. My painting involves much reflection.’

Picasso’s riff on Las Meninas involved the entire canvas as did the first of Valdes’ experiments. But very early on, Valdes changed. He takes an element, distills it, removes it from its context and presents it as something new, fresh. (Figure 12) One art historian describes it this way, “His magic consists of manipulating the icons of (of western art) by de-contextualizing them, (and) reactivating them.”

Figure 13. Las Meninas, Jardin, Palais Royal, Paris, Manolo Valdés 2005

Figure 14. Columns of Buren, Palais-Royal, Paris, Daniel Buren, 1985

Figure 15. Female Heads, Place Vendome, Manolo Valdés, 2016

The 10 statues displayed on Avenue George V is the third time that Valdes’ work has been publicly displayed in Paris. In 2005, twenty one bronze sculptures of Las Meninas were set up in the garden of the Palais-Royal, (Figure 13) the graciousness of their female roundness riffing off the nearby perfectly circular Columns of Buren. (Figure 14) This exhibition was the beginning of Valdes’ interest in the avenues, roundabouts, squares and parks of the built environment. The city became the focus for his experiments and inspiration. In 2016, he returned to Paris, to the Place Vendôme, for which he created a series of six monumental sculptures, each in the shape of a woman's face, of iron, of marble and of aluminum. (Figure 15) Valdes has exhibited elsewhere, of course. including the New York Botanical Garden where the verticals of the trees and the lush roundness of the vegetation provided as appropriate a context for Valdes’ sculptures as the urban environments of his Parisian venues.

Figure 16. Las Meninas, Avenue George V, Manolo Valdéz, 2020-21

Figure 17. Female Head, Avenue George V, Manolo Valdéz, 2020-21

The series along Avenue George V includes both Velazquez’s Las Meninas (Figure 16) that Valdes presented at the Palais Royale and Female Heads (Figure 17), like the ones he exhibited in the Place Vendome. We know the source of the Meninas, what about the Female Heads? Well, one female head is a reference to Clio, the Greek Muse of History. Valdes’ head is oval with either geometric flowers or converging lines resting on it. The lines look more like sticks, like a game of pick up sticks on somebody’s head. Another Female Head finds it source in Botticelli, It is Flora, (Figure 18) the Roman goddess of Spring and one of the central figures in Botticelli’s Primavera (1482). In that fabulous painting, she stands to the right of Venus, sprinkling the ground with flower petals. The Female Head with Butterflies. (Figure 19) has a source in lived experience rather than art history. Valdes explained his inspiration to the director of Opera Gallery this way. He was walking in Central Park one afternoon. And saw a lady seated on a bench, her head was surrounded by a swirl of butterflies. Et voila !

Figure 18. Primavera, Sandro Botticelli, 1478

Figure 19. Female Head with Butterflies, Valdés, Avenue George V

The brochure published by Opera Gallery in conjunction with this open air exhibition offers an analysis of Valdes public sculpture that is timely and pertinent. Throughout history, the brochure reminds us, the role of the monument has been to publicly memorialize and celebrate a god, a saint, a battle, a victory, a political leader.(Figure 20, Figure 21) But Valdés’ monuments do not serve either a political or religious agenda. Valdes’ works don’t reference a higher authority. Growing up in Franco’s Spain probably explains that. Instead, Valdes’ sculptures pay homage to the works of the great masters of western art from Botticelli and Velázquez to Brancusi and Matisse.

Statues are traditionally on pedestals so high and so monumental that they serve to diminish the spectator as they glorify the subject. Of course Valdés’ sculptures are on pedestals but those pedestals are not scaled to make the spectator feel small and insignificant. Instead, Valdes’ sculptures establish a collegial relationship with the squares they inhabit and the people who populate those squares.

I am sure you have already noticed, that not only are Valdés’ statues not looking down at you, they are not men, the typical subject of monumental sculpture. And not only are Valdés’ sculptures almost exclusively women, they break with tradition by being neither saints nor martyrs nor political allegories. And there are no references to race, or age or social class in his statues, either.

What else are Valdés’ female heads not? Significantly, they are not Muses. They are Advisors. How can you tell the difference between a statue of a muse and a statue of an advisor? The name of the exhibition, for a start. Which is? Which is Monumentales Egeries. Which means? Egeria, according to Roman myth, was a nymph who became the divine consort and counselor to the second king of Rome. Egeria’s influence on the king was private, too embarrassing for a king to publicly seek counsel from a nymph. But now her name means female advisor or counselor. Manolo Valdés subverts the idea that a woman’s influence has to be concealed, that behind every great man is a great woman. For him, women no longer hide behind the monument, they are the monument. I was initially attracted to these statues because they are gorgeous and because I love quotations, riffs, on art of the past and I love Velazquez. Learning more about their meaning in Valdes’ work has further enhanced their appeal for me and I hope for you, too.

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