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Review
A supplementary point about the Moreau exhibit
By David Walsh
14 July 1999
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When I mentioned my interest in Gustave Moreau to a political
colleague, he indicated to me, more or less, that he was
not in the habit of appreciating Symbolists. I took
this mild rebuke to mean that socialists ought to prefer the company
of Realists, Naturalists, Impressionists and the like to that
of mystics and decadents, which is what
I suspected he meant by his use of the word Symbolists.
Is there some truth to this? I don't see why, in any event, it
should be accepted without undergoing historical and theoretical
analysis.
To simplify the issue somewhat, there are two possible meanings
to the argument under consideration. Firstconfining oneself
to the art of the late nineteenth centurythere is the implication
that contemporary opponents of the existing order should find
Realism or Impressionism more congenial as artistic styles, because
the latter explored the then existing reality, including social
reality, instead of wandering off into more obscure territory.
Or, second, the case might be made that the Realist or Impressionist
painters themselves were en bloc as a result perhaps
of tendencies inherent in their approach to art and the worldmore
sympathetic to the ideals of social change than their symbolist
counterparts and thus a healthier crowd. I am not rejecting these
points out of hand, but I don't take them for granted either.
In his Nature of Abstract Art (1937), Meyer Schapiro
noted that in the 1880s there were several aspects of Impressionism
which could be the starting points of new tendencies ...
After describing the criticisms of the classicist painters and
the neo-Impressionists, he observed: For still others, Impressionism
was too photographic, too impersonal; these, the symbolists and
their followers, required an emphatic sentiment and aesthetic
activism in the work.
In his essay Schapiro considered the symbolist response historically,
in the context of the growth of modern capitalism in France, with
its inevitable disruption of previously existing relations and
values. He wrote: The French artists of the 1880's and 1890's
who attacked Impressionism for its lack of structure often expressed
demands for salvation, for order and fixed objects of belief,
foreign to the Impressionists as a group.... But since the artists
did not know the underlying economic and social causes of their
own disorder and moral insecurity, they could envisage new stabilizing
forms only as quasi-religious beliefs or as a revival of some
primitive or highly ordered traditional society with organs for
a collective spiritual life....
The reactions against Impressionism ... issued from the
responses that artists as artists made to the broader situation
in which they found themselves, but which they themselves had
not produced.
Moreau is said to have been searching for a higher reality.
Obviously, this is a phrase with multiple meanings. It can simply
denote mysticism, God-chasing and the rest. It most often does.
But is that all it must mean? Aren't we as Marxists also concerned
with getting beyond the surface of life and probing its latent
content? Was there not something potentially valuable in the rejection
of positivism, as well as the unthinking (and worse) application
of Darwinism to social life?
Huysmans revolted against Zola's Naturalist group when it became
clear that their future artistic plans amounted to little more
than writing fictional accounts of all the professions and trades
in France. I think he was right to reject that project. One either
takes art truly seriously or one doesn't. How could someone
like Moreau, steeped in the art of the Renaissance and the ancient
world, possibly have been satisfied with such aesthetic small
change?
It was a weakness of the socialist movement in the latter part
of the nineteenth century that it refused, in general, to validate
any art except social realism. It would not be difficult to establish
that this was more than simply an occupational hazard peculiar
to socialists, that it was bound up with deeper ideological problems
of the movement. Writing about the leading American socialists
in the first decade of this century, Schapiro notes that, with
the exception of individuals like John Reed, they were most
often conservative in art. Their minds fixed upon politics alone
and expecting from artists works directly useful to their movementeasily
legible images of misery, class struggle and the radiant Socialist
future, or relaxing pictures of nature's beautythey were
repelled, like any conservative bourgeois, by what struck them
as the nihilism' of the new art ( The Armory Show.)
I take Trotsky's comment in Literature and Revolution
that art accomplishes its work quite independently of whether
it appears in a given case under the flag of a pure' art
or of a frankly tendentious art at face value. I am not
convinced that there is a style of choice that goes along with
being an opponent of capitalism. This is not to say that Marxists
are indifferent to the need to examine social reality or history,
and at certain moments, like the present, the hostility to treating
such matters can reflect a general decline in the cultural level
and becomes a genuine aesthetic, as well as a social problem.
But there was hardly a shortage of social realism in Moreau's
day. In part, he was suggesting through his work that much of
this realism was shallow and did not address itself
to deeper human issues, and he was quite right, whether or not
one agrees with his solution to the problem.
Without descending into eclecticism or spreading oneself too
thin, is it not possible to suggest that there are different artistic
means at getting to the truth about life? The issue always is
the truthfulness of the work, the depths which it explores, its
incandescence, the seriousness of its attitude to life and art,
and its ability to evoke new thoughts and feelings in the viewer.
To establish as an a priori principle that one has nothing
to learn from a symbolist seems to me, to put it politely, limiting
in the extreme.
As to the political sympathies of the members of various artistic
tendencies, the argument against the symbolists and the like is
even more shaky. It might have seemed self-evident to socialists
a century ago that Realists and Naturalists would be their more
obvious natural allies, but from our vantage point we can see
that the truth has proven far more complex.
Eric Hobsbawm, in The Age of Empire, makes the following
point about the 1890s:
Nor did it seem strange that artists should express their
passionate commitment to suffering humanity in ways which went
beyond the realism' whose model was a dispassionate scientific
recording: Van Gogh, then still quite unknown; the Norwegian Munch,
a socialist; the Belgian James Ensor, whose Entry of Jesus
Christ into Brussels in 1889' included a banner for the Social
Revolution; or the German proto-expressionist Kathe Kollwitz,
commemorating the revolt of the hand-loom weavers. Yet militant
aesthetes and believers in art for art's sake, champions of decadence'
and schools designed to be difficult of mass access such as symbolism',
also declared sympathy for socialism, like Oscar Wilde and Maeterlinck,
or at least an interest in anarchism. Huysmans, Leconte de Lisle
and Mallarmé were among the subscribers to La Revolte
(1894) [a leading anarchist publication]. In short, until the
new century there was no general rift between political and artistic
modernity'.
Eugenia Herbert in The Artist and Social Reform writes
about the situation in France:
Contemporary articles and subsequent memoirs comment
abundantly on the importance of the social ferment among symbolists.
Vielé-Griffin could write in 1895: Our vision has
become enlarged, and the cult of life has led many a young poet
to the study of the extreme solutions of anarchism and socialism.'
And she quotes a contemporary who noted this conversion
of the majority of the young poets to doctrines of revolt, whether
those of Bakunin or of Karl Marx.'
Herbert continues: Jean Maitron in his history of anarchism
pointed to the anarchist sympathies among artists and writers,
dating roughly from the early 1890's: One was a symbolist
in literature and an anarchist in politics.' And Guy Michaud concurred
that in this decade literary revolution and social revolution
seemed more and more to follow convergent paths.'
One has to remember as well that the greatest contribution
to a dialectical approach to aesthetics in the latter part of
the nineteenth century was made by the Symbolist and socialist,
Oscar Wilde, whose value as a thinker far exceeds anything his
reputation as a wit would suggest. And one could certainly
argue that those artists who played the most principled political
role in the present century were Breton and the group of Surrealists,
who consciously based themselves on certain relatively exotic
figures and tendencies in the Romantic and symbolist movements.
Not to mention the fact that the artists who first gravitated
to the side of the Bolsheviks after October 1917 were Futurists
and Cubists and Suprematists.
Where does this leave us? I am not arguing that socialists
must now swing their allegiance fully behind anti-realistic artistic
schools. That would be just as limiting as its opposite, and would
also miss the point: there is nothing to be gained by backing
any particular artistic factory. But isn't it high
time that certain assumptions be placed under the microscope and
seen for what they are, largely the products of inertia and habit,
the uncritical acceptance of certain traditions?
See Also:
Gustave Moreau: Between Epic and Dream
An exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City
(June 1-August 22)
[14 July 1999]
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