.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
“The mobile has actual movement in itself, while the stabile is back at the old painting idea of implied movement.” - Alexander Calder
Alexander Calder’s Gypsophilia on Black Chair exemplifies the artist’s unique ability to combine contrasting elements into highly accomplished and sophisticated compositions. Here, movement and stability, robustness and delicacy, and the opposing black and white are forged together in the service of the artist’s imagination. His skillful evocations of the delicate white Babies Breath with that of a highly stylized chair result in a surrealist-inspired combination of natural and man-made forms. Like Magritte’s enigmatic scenes, with sculptures such as this, Calder reminds the viewer that there is both magic and mystery in his sculptures for those who seek to find it.
Divided visually into two sections, the present work marries the stoicism of the stabiles with the graceful dynamism of Calder’s mobiles. The lower portion, the eponymous “Black Chair”, is a tripartite gesture formed from three pieces of black sheet metal. Curving voluptuously to a peak, the larger of these forms an upward slope that tapers as it reaches its crowning point. The smaller sheets are triangular and act as buttresses to this main portion, their points only barely touching the ground so as to enhance the airy quality of Calder’s construction. Perched atop the broad side of the larger sheet, a delicate spray of wire and small metal circles pushes tentatively into the air. Gypsophila is the scientific name for the flower commonly known as Baby’s Breath and like its namesake, this miniature construction exhibits tiny white circles that sway and dance with any passing movement. Out of cantilevered lengths of wire, seven sheet metal discs rotate and spin from their central axes, adding a breath of life to the stationary base. Calder’s standing mobiles have been described as his “most spectacular creations from this period” (M. Prather, Alexander Calder, exh. cat, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., 1998, p. 141). When they were first exhibited at the Pierre Matisse Gallery in New York in 1941, a critic waxed poetic, noting, “What niceties of balance and mechanical adjustment all this indicates leave the layman lost in wonder. For these mobiles have no motive power of their own. Yet the mere passing of a person through the room sets them in motion and weaves his slow or brusque movement into visible harmonies and suggestive as the strains of music” (Ibid., p. 141). Taking their power from the world around them works like Gypsophila On Black Chair exist as artworks and as objects within the human realm.
In most sculptural cases, a base is a utilitarian object. It acts as a pedestal upon which the more active portion of the composition rests. Connecting visually to the floor, the artist endeavors to essentially delete it from the equation so that we might focus on other elements above. In Gypsophila On Black Chair and other instances of his much-lauded stabiles, Calder accentuates rather than negates this interaction between object and ground. There is no go-between as the thin pieces of metal rest directly upon the table or floor. The three points at which the current example touch are at the apexes of downward arcs; their delicate points barely coming into contact with the flat plane. “The sense of 'potential energy,' of energy barely contained, endows them [Calder’s stabiles] with a powerful presence” (M. Glimcher, “Alexander Calder: Toward Monumentalism,” Alexander Calder: The 50s, New York, 1995, pp. 16-17). Following the lines of the cut sheet metal as it becomes a sinuous mass, one can feel the surge of activity held within its body. Siphoning a force from the very surroundings it rests upon, the sculpture hums. The mobile element draws from this but also serves as a means for allowing some steam to escape the bubbling black mountain form. A gentle breeze sets the petals tinkling upon their wires and softens the hard shapes with an easy movement.
Gypsophila On Black Chair was given to Calder’s longtime friend Robert Osborn as a gift from the artist in 1950. Osborn was a cartoonist, satirist, and writer who had taken up residence in Connecticut with his family near where the sculptor and his own family lived. Both were known for their sardonic senses of humor and became fast friends, often corresponding with illustrated letters and spending time sharing stories among fellow creatives in the small artistic enclave they both inhabited. Osborn often poked fun at the bloated elite in publications like Harper’s, Life, Esquire, and Time, and by the time the two met Calder had made a name for himself the world over with his mobiles. When Osborn moved into a larger house, he commissioned the stunning Sumac (1955) to be at the center of his daily life, a mark of how deeply he held the artist’s friendship. Similarly, the present work lived within Osborn’s abode and became a part of the cartoonist’s personal sphere.
Alexander Calder’s Gypsophilia on Black Chair exemplifies the artist’s unique ability to combine contrasting elements into highly accomplished and sophisticated compositions. Here, movement and stability, robustness and delicacy, and the opposing black and white are forged together in the service of the artist’s imagination. His skillful evocations of the delicate white Babies Breath with that of a highly stylized chair result in a surrealist-inspired combination of natural and man-made forms. Like Magritte’s enigmatic scenes, with sculptures such as this, Calder reminds the viewer that there is both magic and mystery in his sculptures for those who seek to find it.
Divided visually into two sections, the present work marries the stoicism of the stabiles with the graceful dynamism of Calder’s mobiles. The lower portion, the eponymous “Black Chair”, is a tripartite gesture formed from three pieces of black sheet metal. Curving voluptuously to a peak, the larger of these forms an upward slope that tapers as it reaches its crowning point. The smaller sheets are triangular and act as buttresses to this main portion, their points only barely touching the ground so as to enhance the airy quality of Calder’s construction. Perched atop the broad side of the larger sheet, a delicate spray of wire and small metal circles pushes tentatively into the air. Gypsophila is the scientific name for the flower commonly known as Baby’s Breath and like its namesake, this miniature construction exhibits tiny white circles that sway and dance with any passing movement. Out of cantilevered lengths of wire, seven sheet metal discs rotate and spin from their central axes, adding a breath of life to the stationary base. Calder’s standing mobiles have been described as his “most spectacular creations from this period” (M. Prather, Alexander Calder, exh. cat, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., 1998, p. 141). When they were first exhibited at the Pierre Matisse Gallery in New York in 1941, a critic waxed poetic, noting, “What niceties of balance and mechanical adjustment all this indicates leave the layman lost in wonder. For these mobiles have no motive power of their own. Yet the mere passing of a person through the room sets them in motion and weaves his slow or brusque movement into visible harmonies and suggestive as the strains of music” (Ibid., p. 141). Taking their power from the world around them works like Gypsophila On Black Chair exist as artworks and as objects within the human realm.
In most sculptural cases, a base is a utilitarian object. It acts as a pedestal upon which the more active portion of the composition rests. Connecting visually to the floor, the artist endeavors to essentially delete it from the equation so that we might focus on other elements above. In Gypsophila On Black Chair and other instances of his much-lauded stabiles, Calder accentuates rather than negates this interaction between object and ground. There is no go-between as the thin pieces of metal rest directly upon the table or floor. The three points at which the current example touch are at the apexes of downward arcs; their delicate points barely coming into contact with the flat plane. “The sense of 'potential energy,' of energy barely contained, endows them [Calder’s stabiles] with a powerful presence” (M. Glimcher, “Alexander Calder: Toward Monumentalism,” Alexander Calder: The 50s, New York, 1995, pp. 16-17). Following the lines of the cut sheet metal as it becomes a sinuous mass, one can feel the surge of activity held within its body. Siphoning a force from the very surroundings it rests upon, the sculpture hums. The mobile element draws from this but also serves as a means for allowing some steam to escape the bubbling black mountain form. A gentle breeze sets the petals tinkling upon their wires and softens the hard shapes with an easy movement.
Gypsophila On Black Chair was given to Calder’s longtime friend Robert Osborn as a gift from the artist in 1950. Osborn was a cartoonist, satirist, and writer who had taken up residence in Connecticut with his family near where the sculptor and his own family lived. Both were known for their sardonic senses of humor and became fast friends, often corresponding with illustrated letters and spending time sharing stories among fellow creatives in the small artistic enclave they both inhabited. Osborn often poked fun at the bloated elite in publications like Harper’s, Life, Esquire, and Time, and by the time the two met Calder had made a name for himself the world over with his mobiles. When Osborn moved into a larger house, he commissioned the stunning Sumac (1955) to be at the center of his daily life, a mark of how deeply he held the artist’s friendship. Similarly, the present work lived within Osborn’s abode and became a part of the cartoonist’s personal sphere.