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Lot Essay
Annette: Venise is an important early cast of one of Alberto Giacometti's watershed sculptures. The conception - the original modelling in clay - of this large bust of the artist's wife is usually ascribed to 1960 in the literature on Giacometti; this cast had already been acquired by the family of the present owners in September 1963, meaning that it was cast early and in the artist's own lifetime. The undulating surface of the bronze reveals Giacometti's working methods, with the substance of the sculpture appearing pinched here, built-up there, with incised detailing. Giacometti has emphasised the different textures of the clothes and hair from the neck and face of his model, which are dominated by the fixed stare of the eyes and which recall so many of the pictures that he had made of Annette Arm.
Annette, the subject of this celebrated composition, had already been Giacometti's model and muse for almost a decade and a half by the time of its conception. The pair had met in Geneva during the Second World War; she had joined him in Paris in 1946 and they had married in 1949. Giacometti, long considered a perpetual bachelor by those around him, had been fascinated by Annette, and her presence was vital in the organisation of his life and of his legacy. Annette was one of the main models and inspirations for Giacometti, featuring in many of his works, be it in portraits on canvas and on paper, or as a template for the universal woman in his sculptures. However, apart from a small early sculpture he had made in 1946, Annette: Venise was the first portrait bust that he made of her. This would be an important precedent, as he would return to the subject again and again over the following years, creating a series of ten sculptures of her which culminated in Annette X of 1965, a cast of which is now in the Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris.
1960, when Annette: Venise was most probably conceived, was a year of upheaval for Giacometti, and this was reflected in his output. As well as creating his first portrait bust of Annette, he also made his first sculpture of his friend, the Japanese philosopher Isaku Yanaihara, whom he had first met a few years earlier and whose features had brought about a form of crisis in his portraiture. Year after year, Yanaihara had been invited back to Giacometti's studio for sittings - from 1953 onwards, the artist had worked primarily from live models, heightening the visceral undertow of his expressive portraits. Until 1960, Giacometti had focussed on painting and drawing Yanaihara, yet now attempted to render him in three dimensions, a change that may reflect the turbulent events of this period. For it was only a year previously that Giacometti had met a young prostitute called Caroline who had soon become his mistress and, after spending some of 1960 incarcerated, an important part of his life and a muse in his art. By contrast, the affair that had blossomed a few years earlier between Annette and Yanaihara, which Giacometti had himself endorsed, had foundered, meaning that there was some awkwardness within this complex ménage à quatre. While Annette remained a vital crutch in his life and continued to visit the studio every day, there appears to have been some strain. Perhaps this led to a reappraisal, to the artist viewing Annette afresh during this period and during the subsequent half decade until shortly before his death, immortalising her, or his relationship with her, in his busts.
Giacometti's sculptures contain a profound sense of psychology. In part, this is evident in the sense of scale that they embrace: Giacometti crystallises the psychological or emotional distance between artist and subject, and by extension viewer and subject, through the size of his works. He seldom created sculptures that were larger than 'life size' in part for this reason: seeing a person in the distance as smaller than life size, Giacometti created his images smaller than life size. This brings about a sense of isolation, as it underscores the extent to which every man is an island, hence the interest of the existentialists such as Jean-Paul Sartre in his post-war work. However, Giacometti did not see himself as 'an artist of solitude,' instead explaining that 'as a citizen and a thinking being I believe that all life is the opposite of solitude, for life consists of a fabric of relations with others'. He distanced himself from 'talk about the malaise throughout the world' (Giacometti, quoted in J. Lord, Giacometti: A Biography, New York, 1985, pp. 309-310). For Giacometti, the distance between his figures and his viewers, or himself, emphasised the existence of the relationships between them. It was doubtless in part for this reason that, during the post-war years, he increasingly used his immediate circle as models, not least his brother Diego and Annette.
In the case of Annette: Venise, the establishment of that link is clear: it is the relatively large scale of the head compared to many of his other portraits that brings about a sense of intimacy through its implied sense of proximity. Perhaps this is accentuated by the naturalism of the depiction, in stark contrast to the blade-like busts of his brother Diego. At the same time, Giacometti felt that, working from life from Annette, it was precisely his intimacy with this person, the cornerstone of his life, that brought about his sense of her unfamiliarity when he placed her under the intense scrutiny of a modelling session. Annette: Venise thus encapsulates his belief that, with women, 'The nearer one gets, the more distant they are' (Giacometti, quoted in D. Sylvester, Looking at Giacometti, London, 1994, p. 30).
In Annette: Venise, that sense of distance is accentuated by Giacometti's intense focus on his subject's eyes, which completely dominate the bust, fixing the viewer with their unblinking gaze. It has been said that it was Annette's unwavering eye contact that had in part intrigued Giacometti when they had initially met. In terms that reveal to what extent Giacometti has captured facets of her presence in this exquisitely-modelled bust, Jean Starobinski would recall, 'When Annette appeared at his side in Geneva, I said to myself that she was expected: a young woman who faces one directly, who looks and speaks and behaves directly, infinitely frank and infinitely reserved, with wonderful straightforwardness' (J. Starobinski in Y. Bonnefoy, Alberto Giacometti: A Biography of His Work, trans. J. Stewart, Paris, 1991, p. 356).
Annette, the subject of this celebrated composition, had already been Giacometti's model and muse for almost a decade and a half by the time of its conception. The pair had met in Geneva during the Second World War; she had joined him in Paris in 1946 and they had married in 1949. Giacometti, long considered a perpetual bachelor by those around him, had been fascinated by Annette, and her presence was vital in the organisation of his life and of his legacy. Annette was one of the main models and inspirations for Giacometti, featuring in many of his works, be it in portraits on canvas and on paper, or as a template for the universal woman in his sculptures. However, apart from a small early sculpture he had made in 1946, Annette: Venise was the first portrait bust that he made of her. This would be an important precedent, as he would return to the subject again and again over the following years, creating a series of ten sculptures of her which culminated in Annette X of 1965, a cast of which is now in the Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris.
1960, when Annette: Venise was most probably conceived, was a year of upheaval for Giacometti, and this was reflected in his output. As well as creating his first portrait bust of Annette, he also made his first sculpture of his friend, the Japanese philosopher Isaku Yanaihara, whom he had first met a few years earlier and whose features had brought about a form of crisis in his portraiture. Year after year, Yanaihara had been invited back to Giacometti's studio for sittings - from 1953 onwards, the artist had worked primarily from live models, heightening the visceral undertow of his expressive portraits. Until 1960, Giacometti had focussed on painting and drawing Yanaihara, yet now attempted to render him in three dimensions, a change that may reflect the turbulent events of this period. For it was only a year previously that Giacometti had met a young prostitute called Caroline who had soon become his mistress and, after spending some of 1960 incarcerated, an important part of his life and a muse in his art. By contrast, the affair that had blossomed a few years earlier between Annette and Yanaihara, which Giacometti had himself endorsed, had foundered, meaning that there was some awkwardness within this complex ménage à quatre. While Annette remained a vital crutch in his life and continued to visit the studio every day, there appears to have been some strain. Perhaps this led to a reappraisal, to the artist viewing Annette afresh during this period and during the subsequent half decade until shortly before his death, immortalising her, or his relationship with her, in his busts.
Giacometti's sculptures contain a profound sense of psychology. In part, this is evident in the sense of scale that they embrace: Giacometti crystallises the psychological or emotional distance between artist and subject, and by extension viewer and subject, through the size of his works. He seldom created sculptures that were larger than 'life size' in part for this reason: seeing a person in the distance as smaller than life size, Giacometti created his images smaller than life size. This brings about a sense of isolation, as it underscores the extent to which every man is an island, hence the interest of the existentialists such as Jean-Paul Sartre in his post-war work. However, Giacometti did not see himself as 'an artist of solitude,' instead explaining that 'as a citizen and a thinking being I believe that all life is the opposite of solitude, for life consists of a fabric of relations with others'. He distanced himself from 'talk about the malaise throughout the world' (Giacometti, quoted in J. Lord, Giacometti: A Biography, New York, 1985, pp. 309-310). For Giacometti, the distance between his figures and his viewers, or himself, emphasised the existence of the relationships between them. It was doubtless in part for this reason that, during the post-war years, he increasingly used his immediate circle as models, not least his brother Diego and Annette.
In the case of Annette: Venise, the establishment of that link is clear: it is the relatively large scale of the head compared to many of his other portraits that brings about a sense of intimacy through its implied sense of proximity. Perhaps this is accentuated by the naturalism of the depiction, in stark contrast to the blade-like busts of his brother Diego. At the same time, Giacometti felt that, working from life from Annette, it was precisely his intimacy with this person, the cornerstone of his life, that brought about his sense of her unfamiliarity when he placed her under the intense scrutiny of a modelling session. Annette: Venise thus encapsulates his belief that, with women, 'The nearer one gets, the more distant they are' (Giacometti, quoted in D. Sylvester, Looking at Giacometti, London, 1994, p. 30).
In Annette: Venise, that sense of distance is accentuated by Giacometti's intense focus on his subject's eyes, which completely dominate the bust, fixing the viewer with their unblinking gaze. It has been said that it was Annette's unwavering eye contact that had in part intrigued Giacometti when they had initially met. In terms that reveal to what extent Giacometti has captured facets of her presence in this exquisitely-modelled bust, Jean Starobinski would recall, 'When Annette appeared at his side in Geneva, I said to myself that she was expected: a young woman who faces one directly, who looks and speaks and behaves directly, infinitely frank and infinitely reserved, with wonderful straightforwardness' (J. Starobinski in Y. Bonnefoy, Alberto Giacometti: A Biography of His Work, trans. J. Stewart, Paris, 1991, p. 356).