by Claudia Oliveira

The Guido Molinari and Piet Mondrian Musical Duet

“Every artist worthy of the name is in permanent revolt against his own style. The most exalting part of his effort, but also the most thankless consists in preventing the codification, even by himself of his own style.”i And so began James Sweeney’s 1951 article on Piet Mondrian (fig. 1), featured in the magazine Art News. The author was quoting a French art critic, Charles Estienne, who wrote about abstract art. Sweeney’s writings were based on an interview and letter correspondence between himself and Mondrian, which took place shortly before the artist’s death. That same year, a young Guido Molinari (fig. 2) was aspiring to a career in art. When he came by Sweeney’s article about Mondrian, the effect it had on his life can only be described as life-altering. In referring to his discovery of this article, Molinari compared it to “discovering the Gospel.”ii He was fascinated by Mondrian’s willingness to reinvent himself and his desire to break free from any particular art movement. Throughout his career, Molinari would continue to build on the principles of art explored by Mondrian. Interestingly, though Molinari refused to be associated with any particular art movement, he never denied Mondrian’s influence on his work. In order to better understand the true effect that Mondrian’s art and theory had on Molinari, I will present an analysis and comparison of both artists. More importantly, in the light of the exhibition Ensemble, an Exhibition of Art and Jazz, both artists’ work must be viewed in relation to jazz music.

Images


fig. 1

Piet Mondrian, photograph by Arnold Newman, 1942.

fig. 2

Guido Molinari, photograph by Alain Depocas.

fig. 3

Piet Mondrian, 1929 Composition, 1920. Oil on canvas, 20 ½" x 20 ½".

fig. 4

Piet Mondrian, Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow, 1930. Oil on canvas, 20 1/8" x 20 1/8".

fig. 5

Piet Mondrian, New York City I, 1942. Oil on canvas, 47 ¼" x 56 ¾".

fig. 6

Pablo Picasso, Portrait of Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler, 1910. Oil on canvas, 39 5/8" x 25 5/8".

fig. 7

Guido Molinari, Quadruple Mutation, 1966. Acrylic on canvas, 71.9" x 61".

fig. 8

Piet Mondrian, Broadway Boogie Woogie, 1942-43. Oil on canvas, 50" x 50". The Museum of Modern Art (MOMA).

fig. 9

Piet Mondrian, Victory Boogie Woogie, 1943-44. Oil and paper on canvas, 50" x 50". Gemeentemuseum Den Haag.

fig. 10

Piet Mondrian, Composition No. 1; Composition with Red, 1938-1939. Oil on canvas, 41 7/16" x 40 5/16". Guggenheim Museum.

fig. 11

Guido Molinari (right) with the Molinari Quartet. Clockwise from top: Jonathan Crow, David Quinn, Sylvie Lambert and Olga Razenhofer. Photograph, 1998.

Let us first consider the principles of art explored by Mondrian, which considerably influenced Molinari. The first was reinvention. Mondrian was strongly opposed to static art; art that did not evolve, a style that remained the same. Instead, he appreciated what he called “the destructive element in art.”iii He believed in destroying to rebuild, by breaking free from tradition and self-imposed formulas. Notice for example the evolution of these three pieces. The first entitled 1929 Composition uses only one primary colour; red (fig. 3). He divides each individual plane by a thick black line, which encourages the viewer to consider each plane, perhaps even count them. The second work is Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow, painted in 1930 (fig. 4). Here we can see the artist’s focus on simplicity. He has expanded the red box and included other boxes with the primary colours blue and yellow, which add brightness to the work. Let us note as well the variation in the thickness of the black lines. Mondrian is attempting to create a much different contrast and balance between the planes, than in the first work. Then a great shift occurs; in 1940, the artist moved from Europe to New York, and he produced works such as this one: New York City I from 1942 (fig. 5). Here, Mondrian has gone from simplicity to complexity. He has abandoned the black lines. Instead he has merged color and line to create a single form. Though evolution in art and artistic style is common, Mondrian showed a great distaste for his works produced between 1918 and 1938, including the first two pieces shown here. He was frustrated to find that he was often praised for this earlier period in his career; he felt that it was a time when he had produced art through the incapacity to express what he wanted. What was produced was a static balance, instead of his desired dynamic equilibrium.iv

This so-called dynamic equilibrium sought by Mondrian, is what first drew Guido Molinari to his work. He was fascinated by the idea that the essence of abstraction should lie in rhythm, as seen in Mondrian’s later works. Like Mondrian, Molinari wanted to find a way around Cubist abstraction, made famous of course by Pablo Picasso (fig. 6). He too felt that Cubism, though considered abstract, could not achieve true abstraction because it still existed in a three-dimensional space. Throughout his career, Molinari would strive towards this dynamic equilibrium described by Mondrian, constantly reinventing himself and analyzing his past efforts, perhaps even going beyond what Mondrian had achieved. To better understand his efforts at reinvention, we have various examples of his works. The first is his initial response to Mondrian and his will to break free of tradition. He experimented with painting in the dark or even blindfolded, in an effort to paint spontaneously. The result was a work such as Untitled from 1951. He also experimented in a dripping-method, made famous by artist Jackson Pollock. An example would be another Untitled painting from 1955, clearly a dramatic contrast from the first work. But Molinari would soon re-consider his approach. In the spirit of reinvention, and after his 1954 visit to the Museum of Modern Art in New York to finally see the Mondrian works he had read so much about, Molinari began to explore spatial principles. Using a palette knife to cover the canvas with paint, Molinari produced works such as Untitled from 1954. His work evolved from bold and geometrical shapes, to vertical colour stripes which became his trademark (fig. 7).

Clearly, in viewing the progression of his artistic practice, it becomes apparent that Molinari was approaching his desired destructive element in art. Piet Mondrian once wrote that in order to destroy volume, an element very much present in Cubism, one had to introduce the plane. The plane could then be destroyed with the insertion of lines, which were subsequently destroyed with the use of colour.vMolinari followed this example, yet he felt that Mondrian had not succeeded in completely destroying the linear, pictorial energy of the line. Thus, he reinvented his art continuously in an effort to reach true abstraction. Dissatisfied with some of his earlier paintings, Molinari even destroyed fifty works executed between 1951 and 1953, a decision he later regretted.

Theoretically, Molinari drew a great deal from Mondrian’s example. Both artists strived to reach true abstraction, reinventing their art, varying their styles and methods and destroying as many of the elements as possible. But could there possibly be yet another principle of influence that could tie these two artists together? The answer is surely yes, for we have yet to introduce one of the great influences on Piet Mondrian’s work, which in turn affected Molinari and his artistic practice; that of jazz music.

Jazz music has long been associated with modern art. In 1921, the critic Clive Bell referred to modernists such as Pablo Picasso in painting, Stravinsky in music and T.S. Elliott in poetry, as members of the jazz movement.vi Surging at around the same time in the early to mid-twentieth century, both jazz music and modern art depend a great deal on improvisation. Contrary to European classical music, where a performer strives to play a composition as it is written, a jazz performer will never play a tune the same way twice. Many factors may influence the manner by which a performer interprets a song. The interpretation may depend on the performer’s mood or experience. It may even depend on the interaction with other musicians or audience members. Similarly, some forms of modern art are often developed around the idea of spontaneity or randomness, as was the case of Dadaism, Surrealism or other artistic movements.

But can we safely assume that jazz played a role in the artistic production of Mondrian and Molinari? The answer is undoubtedly yes. Returning once again to the article in Art News that so strongly influenced Molinari, one can clearly see how both artists developed a relationship with jazz. The two paintings most prominently featured in the 1951 article, were Broadway Boogie Woogie (1942-43) (fig. 8) and the unfinished Victory Boogie Woogie (1944) (fig. 9). One can simply take the titles of these two pieces and deduce that Mondrian was clearly affected by the jazz scene in New York. How did this form of jazz come to influence Mondrian? When Mondrian arrived in New York from Europe in October 1940, he hadn’t completed a work in two years. Once he arrived in America, he was thrilled with the fast-paced and energetic popular culture he found. Yet even before immigrating to the United States, Mondrian praised jazz music in print, as early as 1927.vii After his arrival, he became a regular at jazz clubs, and began working on his art again while listening to his favourite records. Among his collection of records, was the album Boogie Woogie from 1942, the inspiration behind two of his most famous works. Mondrian also owned many other jazz albums, among them a 1941 album by boogie-woogie pianists Albert Ammons and Pete Johnson. This album, titled 8 to the Bar; two Piano Boogie Woogie for Dancing may even have been the artist’s favourite for he owned two copies of it.viii It seems that Mondrian’s move to America and his immersion in the New York jazz scene, allowed the artist to come to life again. Perhaps this could explain why the artist seemed so unsatisfied with his works produced prior to his departure from Europe. To better understand the change in his work, let us consider this example from his days in London; Composition with Red (fig. 10). It is 1939. German bombs have fallen near Mondrian’s studio. The windows are shattered and he stands before his easel painting this work, which is almost completely drained of colour.ix Next, only a year later in 1941, Mondrian produces this work New York City I (fig. 5). The following year, in 1942, Mondrian begins to work on his famous Broadway Boogie Woogie (fig. 8). The contrast is immense. His newer works are busier, full of life, colour and rhythm. The lines, running one edge of the canvas to other, without interruption can be compared to the “hammering manner of boogie-woogie performance.”x His final work, Victory Boogie Woogie (1943-1944) (fig. 9) clearly shows that the artist had decided to quicken the tempo and raise the volume of the piece. Even the titles of these pieces make the pictures irrefutably musical in nature.

But what of Molinari? Would it be safe to assume that because Molinari took up Mondrian’s philosophy of art, he too would have a relationship with jazz? The answer is yes. One must remember that of all the Mondrian pieces in existence, it was Broadway Boogie Woogie and Victory Boogie Woogie that first caught Molinari’s attention. These were the two works featured in the 1951 Art News that Molinari once compared to the Gospel. Thus, by extension, one could say that Molinari had a relationship with jazz because he was enthused by Mondrian’s jazz-inspired paintings. What of Molinari’s own works? In a 2002 exhibition titled Molinari and Mondrian: The Spirit of Destruction at the Art Gallery of Hamilton, curator Joan Murray explains that the red stripes in this 1959 untitled work are “playfully interacting with black and white (...) and fill the painting with a cool jazzy energy.”xi Clearly, the rhythm and tempo found in this painting and the choice of colour relate to jazz music. One may question, however, whether the artist himself viewed his own art in quite the same way. What is certain is that Molinari is known to have had a deep appreciation for music. In 1997, Molinari helped to form a quartet of musicians who later took on his name – The Molinari Quartet (fig. 11). The musicians practiced in the artist’s studio, often performing with Molinari’s canvases behind them. This fusion of music and art produced a syneasthetic experience, drawing from both visual and audio senses. Olga Ranzenhofer, the founder of the group once made a very interesting remark about the manner in which Molinari spoke of his works. When they first met, Ranzenhofer explained that Molinari “began talking about his canvases in musical terms. He spoke of rhythm, harmony, timbre and melodic lines, while I found myself talking of music in terms of colour, texture, and effects.”xii This clearly shows that Guido Molinari knew that there was a clear dialogue between music and his paintings.

In conclusion, we have seen that a strong link between the work of Piet Mondrian and Guido Molinari exists. One may even say that their work performs well together, forming a musical duet of sorts. Though both Mondrian and Molinari are individual artists of their own merit, the similarities between their works are unquestionable. Molinari never produced a single work that resembled any of Mondrian’s pieces, but both artists shared many of their views and philosophies. Their desire to obtain true abstraction by means of destruction was a refreshing approach. The progression of their work was captivating. Yet in the spirit of destruction used by both Mondrian and Molinari, one quality remains; the musical overtones contained in their work. For, neither Mondrian nor Molinari could conceal or destroy the musical and by extension the jazz-like aspect of their work.

i James Johnson Sweeney, "Mondrian, the Dutch and De Stijl," Art News 50 (Summer, 1951): 63.

ii Joan Murray, Molinari and Mondrian, the Spirit of Destruction (Hamilton: Art Gallery of Hamilton, 2002): 6.

iii Sweeney 25.

iv Sweeney 63.

v Sweeney 62.

vi Terry Teachout, “Jazz as Modern art,” Commentary 115/1 (January 2003): 49.

vii Alfred Appel, Jazz Modernism. From Ellington and Armstrong to Matisse and Joyce. (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2002): 69.

viiiAppel 69.

ixAppel 70.

x Appel 70.

xi Murray 6.

xii Lucie Renaud, “Molinari the Quartet: a palette of sound,” La Scena Musicale 6/7(April 1, 2001).

http://www.scena.org/lsm/sm6-7/palette-en.html (accessed November 13, 2007).