Atelier Brancusi
Constantin Brancusi (b. 1876-1957) has long been a revered Parisian artist whose entire studio was bequeathed to the state of France. The breadth of the collection consists of 137 sculptures, 87 bases, 41 drawings, 2 paintings and over a thousand glass-plate negatives & original prints. The continuation of the artwork’s soul, the artist’s mind, all within these walls, live on.
“For Brancusi, the space created as the surrounding for sculpture is as important as the work itself, and it was in his studio that he was best able to do this. The studio became an entity into which he gradually incorporated the ‘doubles’ of his original works, whereby he was more perfectly able to preserve their memory.”
I arrived to the Atelier as the staff dusted off their chairs and repositioned a fresh stack of pamphlets, braced to wade through crowds of people curiously exploring the studio through their iPhones. I knew Paris to be a location of galleries and museums with no shortage of crowds, however I didn’t find myself any more comfortable with it despite the grandiose caliber of each institution. I didn’t even visit the Louvre for this reason. Admittedly, I fantasized about a lonesome experience like the cake I knew I couldn’t bake but wanted anyway. This day was different. To any tourist’s amazement, and for this one time, my fears of anxiously pushing my way to the front were dismissed. I had the glassed-off, windex-polished corridor to myself for several minutes. Even to share that detail doesn’t seem all that impressive, but the several minutes I shared half-past two in the heat of the afternoon were the most calming minutes of my entire time spent in Paris.
“They assume their place quite naturally, under the peak of the roof meeting the skylight, squeezed against one another like lofty trees in a tropical forest, facing the entrance. ‘This studio is my garden: here I am alone and happy!’ Said Brancusi.”
At the end of his life, Brancusi became enveloped by the spatial relationships of the sculptures within his studio. In fact, if a piece had been sold, Brancusi would replace the void with a plaster copy. The dialog between works and the studio walls became fundamental enough for him to stop creating artworks and to focus on the presentation as a whole.
Why I take to Brancusi is fairly simple: We consider the essence apex. The calm curves and hues of ecru are inviting, but deeply spiritual in the context of the space. As a spatial photographer, my eye is geared to assess a space, react viscerally, and create. Our practice is not quite different, in essence. The abstraction of things, the mere appearance of things, is insufficient. It is the connection between what is at play that reigns. The idea will live on forever, yet luckily for us we have the tangibility of Brancusi to relish in.
centrepompidou.fr
“For Brancusi, the space created as the surrounding for sculpture is as important as the work itself, and it was in his studio that he was best able to do this. The studio became an entity into which he gradually incorporated the ‘doubles’ of his original works, whereby he was more perfectly able to preserve their memory.”
I arrived to the Atelier as the staff dusted off their chairs and repositioned a fresh stack of pamphlets, braced to wade through crowds of people curiously exploring the studio through their iPhones. I knew Paris to be a location of galleries and museums with no shortage of crowds, however I didn’t find myself any more comfortable with it despite the grandiose caliber of each institution. I didn’t even visit the Louvre for this reason. Admittedly, I fantasized about a lonesome experience like the cake I knew I couldn’t bake but wanted anyway. This day was different. To any tourist’s amazement, and for this one time, my fears of anxiously pushing my way to the front were dismissed. I had the glassed-off, windex-polished corridor to myself for several minutes. Even to share that detail doesn’t seem all that impressive, but the several minutes I shared half-past two in the heat of the afternoon were the most calming minutes of my entire time spent in Paris.
“They assume their place quite naturally, under the peak of the roof meeting the skylight, squeezed against one another like lofty trees in a tropical forest, facing the entrance. ‘This studio is my garden: here I am alone and happy!’ Said Brancusi.”
At the end of his life, Brancusi became enveloped by the spatial relationships of the sculptures within his studio. In fact, if a piece had been sold, Brancusi would replace the void with a plaster copy. The dialog between works and the studio walls became fundamental enough for him to stop creating artworks and to focus on the presentation as a whole.
Why I take to Brancusi is fairly simple: We consider the essence apex. The calm curves and hues of ecru are inviting, but deeply spiritual in the context of the space. As a spatial photographer, my eye is geared to assess a space, react viscerally, and create. Our practice is not quite different, in essence. The abstraction of things, the mere appearance of things, is insufficient. It is the connection between what is at play that reigns. The idea will live on forever, yet luckily for us we have the tangibility of Brancusi to relish in.
centrepompidou.fr