“Wiederentdeckung eines
grossen zeichners.”
Not
the first time I have bought an art book in another language. I’ve several, in
fact, unless I learn Italian, German, French and Chinese have very little
chance of ever interpreting in full. I have made some effort, “Wiederentdeckung
eines grossen zeichners” translates as ‘rediscovery of a great draughtsman’
which I could not have put more succinctly as a way of describing the art of
Austrian born artist, Kelmens Brosch, the ‘draughtsman’ in question and worthy
protagonist of this week’s blog post.
'Meadow enters the forest' 1913 |
Whilst
I would love to be able to read more about Brosch’s life and work, I cannot read Austrian-German so am having to rely solely on my own
interpretations and limited findings from the visuals of the work itself! Sometimes
not a bad thing and this should prove an interesting exercise. I really wanted to write a post
about Klemens Brosch. After seeing his work, in particular his drawings, for
the first time in an exhibition at the Belvedere in Vienna, I am convinced that
(as the title of the book suggests) more people need to not only rediscover,
but perhaps like myself discover his work for the first time!
'The Hermit in a deep snow hut' 1919 * |
I
think I enjoy writing about drawing as much as doing it and remain something of
a cheerleader for the joys that come from the meditative, immersive, emotive,
expressive and intense practice of connecting hand/body to eye and lived
experience of putting pencil/pen/silverpoint/charcoal to paper or surface. If I
am really intrigued or obsessed by something then one of the best ways to
really and truly capture what it is (in every sense of the word), in my opinion, is with a drawing. Though I am no
way near as committed to this as what Brosch obviously was. In his few sixteen
years working as an artist Brosch created 1000 drawings, watercolours, prints
and paintings! Born in Linz in 1894 he was only thirty-two years old when he
died in 1926 and leaving a copious legacy of drawings on themes of landscape,
nature, fantasy and the first world war. What makes them so special is that
they are incredibly, almost painstakingly detailed. Tone in each drawing made
of hundreds upon thousands of lines, almost like an etching-rendered so
carefully they are almost invisible unless looked at closely (and I mean
magnifying glass closely!). None of the images (scans) from the catalogue here
will quite do them justice, but in works such as ‘Meadow enters the forest’
every blade of grass, flora and fauna is meticulously and exquisitely captured
as it fades off into the distance of, what is an almost eerie looking horizon
of the forest. There are dozens of works of forests in general, all of which
are suspenseful in their quietness and have that almost Brothers Grimm,
fairy-tale or children’s illustration-like quality of narrating a scene in
which some creature or threat is about to take place whilst being almost
melancholic at the same time. I did read somewhere (in English) that many of
his images were inspired by German literature which seems to fit my assumptions
here.
There
is a feeling of nostalgia too present in Brosch’s drawings, ‘Hermit in a deep
snow hut’, even though I think I have never seen it before, feels so
reminiscent to me of something from a children’s book that it is almost
uncanny. ‘The Crocodile on the Moon-disc’ depicting exactly what it says is
another example of the varied and sometimes fantasy or surreal places that
Brosch's drawings went. These figures in trapped in the snow or fantastical
creatures on the moon are reoccurring themes of isolation in Brosch's drawings
that one could read a lot into about him as a person, but without knowing,
would be purely guess-work.
What
little I know of Brosch includes that he served in the First World War and
after the death of his brother was discharged on grounds of being a malingerer.
Brosch’s drawings from combat scenes during the war are harrowing and for me
reminiscent in many ways of Goya’s ‘The Disasters of War’ due to their
nightmarish, uncensored brutality. I can only speculate that the increase in
the amount of work produced during this time came from the need to process what
he had seen and experienced mixed with, what I do know, to be an addiction to
morphine as a result of respiratory illness he had since birth. Many of these
drawings are almost realer than real, so detailed they become almost
photographic but are always pulled back into the subjective and human qualities
of drawing that make them more accountable through the sheer time and
commitment it must take to depict the image by hand rather than with the click
of a button. Unlike photography (of the time) however, they can be edited and composed to heighten and emphasise in ways that make them all the more troubling in what they depict.
For me, it is Brosch’s
pencil studies of what are on face-value, arbitrary objects that really
excites. In ‘Detailed study if a coat and hat’ that’s exactly what we get and
alludes to the classic art school discipline of drawing drapery but on a much
more everyday level. In terms of looking at form, shape, texture and tone,
there is a lot going on in this drawing which at the same time is essentially
of nothing of any consequence. Similarly, there are drawings of empty gloves,
hands and bizarrely dead frogs which may all be drawing exercises but are
beautifully observed nonetheless. Why I like drawing in the same way that
others may like photography, is that it is that both are about being obsessed
with looking. The noticing of something you may have never seen had you not
been attempting to draw it. Technically speaking, I am never going to be like
Brosch but I can relate to the desire to capture a variety of subjects through
drawing and want to try drawing new things.
And if you never want to see a more beautiful set of drawings of old pairs of shoes then look away now!
'Thank the Invalids' 1915 (also below*) |
In the exhibition there was a wall of what must have been
at least forty drawings of old, extremely worn-out shoes drawn from a variety
of different and very technically challenging angles that boggles my mind at
the skilfulness involved in their making. The absence of the human form to
these shoes, as with the coat, always tells a lot more about the use and
character of them and their relationship with their wearer than had they been
drawn with someone wearing them. If that makes sense to you as it does me! The
collective title of these works translated as ‘Thank the invalids’ only raises
more questions that unfortunately I do not have answers to but again conjures
more associations these shoes had with their owners and just why Brosch chose
to draw so many may remain a mystery to me...at least until I learn German!
I
hope you can forgive that much of what I could know about Brosch is lost in
translation but there is hopefully, what this post goes some way to prove is
that there is as much to be gained from visually reading the work, that I could
never get from reading about it anyway. They make me want to draw! If you ever get a chance to see these
works up-close in person then I thoroughly recommend a visit!
Klemens Brosch was on at the Belvedere in Vienna from 9th
March - 3rd June 2018