Today I saw one of the most famous paintings in the entire world. Picasso's Guernica, his commissioned painting for the industrial Exhibition in Paris of 1937, depicts the carnage of a unprevoked bombing of the civilians of a town in the Basque region of Spain by the combined forces of Germany and Italy. The painting is huge; I doubt I have any uninterrupted wall space which could house this painting. It dominates the gallery of the Reina Sofia Museum in Madrid where it is displayed.
I am not really a student of art nor an artist myself. I can only tell you what I experience when I see a particular piece of art. I do not know anything about the tools every artist uses in order to elicit the emotion for which they are striving with their work. But I can tell you that Guernica makes me angry at those who would give reason for such art to be painted. Images have power and this image not only made me angry but it prompted me to want to know the circumstances behind its commissioning.
The painting was completed at a time Hitler was tightening his noose around 'undesireables' and the Spanish Civil War was in full swing. In order to shore up Franco's war efforts in Spain, Germany and Italy bombed the Basque town of Guerneca, beaking the previous rules of war. The civilian deaths were not collateral damage from the bombing but its intended mission. Picasso use of powerful images and symbols elicited horrow at such an event and drew attention to Spain's struggles.
As I reflected on this painting trying to put it into my own perspective, the closest thing to this image I could remember in my lifetime were the stark black and white photos coming back from the cameras of the photojournalists from New York Times and Life Magazine in the 1960s in the United States. These images of our boys dead and dying on the battlefield turned the tide of support against the Vietnam War. Images have power.
Yesterday, I spent several hours at the Prado, viewing paintings not only from Picasso but from such Spanish painters as Goya, Valeques, Murillo and El Greco. The Prado collection of Spanish masters is massive. It holds (and displays) so many Goya and Valeques, I was able to trace the evolution of their art. I could sense there was a profound shift in the type of art being commissioned - from religious subjects and portraits of the monarchs and cardinals to more secular subjects. I wondered just how historical events influenced art and of course, whether art had returned history's favor.
Frankly, I don't know if the Prado's collection contains much more than the paintings on the second floor as I took so much time here, it was time to close by the time I was ready to begin the first floor. But the floor I covered most thoroughly had already given me a glimpse into the history of Spain which I was eager to pursue at the Reina Sofia Museum today.
The Reina Sofie holds Spain's collection of 'Modern" art, including the core works of Picasso and of surrealist Dali. Like the Prado, its collection of Spainish artists' work was comprehensive. Even with my limited knowledge of art, I could see the progression of Picasso's styles fromThe Seated Harlequin to Guernica. I could see the growing confidence of Dali's work including the giant surrealist dream self-portrait 'The Great Masturbator'. I was also pleased to see artwork of non-Spaniards whose work I admire, like Diego Rivera, Alexander Calder and Mark Rothko.
I like surrealism and modern art so I particularly enjoyed the Reina Sofia, even though many of the films shown to explain how modern culture informs art and vice versa, were difficult for me to understand with my limited Spanish. But over all, the museum attempts to encompass more than painting and sculpture media for modern art to expand one's understanding of what exactly art might be were thought-provoking and interesting. My limited perusal of the Prado and my more thorough visit to Reina Sofia left me with a lot of questions about how the art in these two immensely popular museums (the line for tickets was still very long at 7pm, only 2 hours before Reina Sofia's closing) informed the culture of Spain and, of course, how Spain's culture informed the art.
Particularly in the Reina Sofia, I was very conscious of how my lack of knowledge of the history of Spain impeded my ability to fully appreciate the art within its galleries. Did subtle differences between decades even in the prodigious portraits of those in power indicate certain historical trends - such as the waning influence of the church and the increased acceptability of socialist ideals? I wnted to know more and walked away with a book on the History of Spain in the late 19th and 20th Centuries.
My biggest disappointment was the almost complete lack of female artists. Not even in the Reina Sofia would I see the work of female Spanish painters although Dora Marr's photography was represented. I find that deeply unsettling but don't know enough about Spanish culture to interpret the conditions under which this lack came about. I sincerely hope this does not represent an invisibility of female participation in all aspects of Spanish culture. Perhaps the book I am reading will help fill in these gaps.
I actually have one more day in Madrid on my way home and, armed with newly informed understandings of Spain in the last century, perhaps my trip to the last of the museums in Madrid's 'art triangle' will help me see the last pieces a little more clearly. I'll certainly be back to Madrid because after art there is also Madrid's music, architecture and history to explore!
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