From Chaos to Crèche

Inside the Guggenheim Museum

Culture is often best represented through art. New York City houses some of the greatest museums and Italian institutes devoted to an unending range of famous to little known masters who capture the important traditions and time periods in Southern Italian history unbeknownst to mainstream Italian Americana. A lifelong Brooklyn native, I recently set aside time from my day job for what I like to call "A Day of High Culture," to explore some of these hidden gems.

My day began with a visit to the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum to see the highly touted Chaos and Classicism: Art in France, Italy, and Germany, 1918-1936. Billed as "the first major exhibition in the United States to explore the classicizing aesthetic that followed the immense destruction of World War I," this collection spans the interwar period when European artists were rejecting the various pre-war avant-garde styles of art (Cubism, Futurism, etc.) for more traditional, classical forms of expression. I couldn't miss this golden opportunity to see so many works I've only read about online and in books and journals. Unfortunately, no photographs were allowed.

The exhibit begins with a selection of prints from Otto Dix's Der Krieg (The War), a gruesome portfolio of the horrors he experienced as a soldier during the Great War. His graphic images of mutilated bodies obviously represent the chaos of post-war Europe. In stark contrast to Dix's illustrations stand several life-sized, idealized bronze figures, including the allegorical Ile-de-France by Aristide Maillol and a sublime representation of the Sicilian Nereid, Galatea, by Neapolitan sculptor, Amleto Cataldi. These statues, of course, exemplify the classicism that emerged from the chaos.

Stormtroops Advancing Under Gas by Otto Dix

On a personal note, Dix's Stormtroops Advancing Under Gas was inspiration for an art project I had in high school and was a thrill (if one can say that about such a dreadful subject) to finally see in person.

Detail from my high school assignment inspired by Dix's suite, Der Krie

As you continue to ascend the circular ramp, which winds its way to the museum's various galleries, one is treated to an eclectic array of paintings and sculptures from the period. There are roughly 150 works by more than 80 artists on display. Among them are familiar names like Pablo Picasso (Woman in White and The Source) and Henri Matisse (Large Seated Nude), but more interestingly (to me) are the pieces by lesser-known artists like Georg Scholz (Female Nude with Plaster Bust), Leon-Ernest Driver (Bust of Madame X), and Leo Breuer (The Coal Man).

Highlights include Renato Bertelli's Continuous Profile of Mussolini, Antonio Donghi's Circus, and Arturo Martini's The Stars, a beautiful bronze sculpture depicting a man and woman standing next to a truncated tree staring upwards.

In addition to the many paintings, sculptures and photographs, the exhibit also includes avant-garde director Jean Cocteau's bizarre film Le sang d'un poète or The Blood of a Poet. Loaded with surreal imagery, the movie was the first installment of Cocteau's "Orphic Trilogy," loosely based on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.

The exposition concludes with the so-called "Dark Side of Classicism," showing how art in Italy and Germany became heavily propagandized with the advent of Fascism. The gallery displays the "collusionist" work of Italian artists Mario Sironi (Soldier and Leader on Horseback), Arturo Martini (Athena) and Giorgio de Chirico (Gladiators). Also on view are Georg Kolbe's Young Warrior and Adolf Ziegler's triptych, The Four Elements. Ziegler, it should be remembered, was instrumental in the Third Reich's crusade against "degenerate" art. His attempt to denigrate the confiscated work backfired when the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art) spectacle became one of the most popular modern art shows ever. This portion of the exhibit culminates with Leni Riefenstahl's Olympia, a documentary film about the 1936 Berlin Olympics. Fittingly, Franz Würbel's Berlin Olympics poster stands adjacent to the mini theater.

The exhibit will be running until January 9, 2011.

Two Women by Isabella Dionisio

Afterward, I made my way from the Guggenheim to the Italian Cultural Institute on 686 Park Avenue (next to the Italian Consul General's office) to attend Nativity in the World / from Naples to New York, a celebration of the presepio—a Neapolitan Christmas tradition. Several dignitaries and artists (Luciano Testa and Gino Baia) from Naples were on hand to help kick-off the festivities.

The presepio, or crèche, is a model Christmas crib displayed in homes or public places. The figures are typically made with polychromed wood or terracotta and clothed with fabric. In Naples this ancient custom (credited to St. Francis of Assisi) has been wholeheartedly embraced and developed into a legitimate art form.

A Herdsman
by Gianluca Buonocore

Originally the diorama just included the Holy Family (Mistero), but over time additional characters were added—first the Magi, Angels and shepherds then later more exotic figures, like Orientals and Saracens. In fact, the presentations can be so elaborate that sometimes the actual birth of Christ appears incidental. It should also be noted that often times the Nativity is set in a ruined temple instead of a manger, representing Christianity's triumph over paganism.

Technically, as "popular art" the Neapolitan presepio doesn't exactly meet the definition of "high culture," however, the pieces presented at the institute represent some of the more extraordinary examples of the genre and, in my humble opinion, can easily be classified as high art.

Figure by Giovanni Sinno

Traditionally Naples’ leading artists, including the great Baroque sculptors Salvatore di Franco and Giuseppe Sanmartino, made the figures. Although not on display here, examples of their exquisite work can be seen at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's annual Christmas Tree and Neapolitan Baroque Crèche.

Under the patronage of the Bourbons, the custom spread among the Neapolitan nobility and grew ever more elaborate and dramatic. During Christmas time the aristocracy would welcome the populace into their palaces to showcase the tableau. According to Goethe it was a "hobby for people in high places." Luckily, an 18th century cart from the Bourbon collection from Reggia di Caserta is included in the show.

Cart with riders from the Reggia di Caserta

The presepio exhibit at the Italian Cultural Institute will be running until January 21, 2011.

Also, one of the Institute's pieces will be on loan to the Italian American Museum in Little Italy. It will accompany Anita Sanseverino’s photographs from the Via San Gregorio Armeno—Naples' Mecca of presepio shops and stalls—currently on view. Ms. Sanseverino recently held an informative lecture and presentation at the museum entitled Presepio Napoletano and her pictures detail the intricate building process as well as capture the charm and beauty of these miniature masterpieces.

Anita Sanseverino and her photos at the Italian American Museum

In spite of their obvious differences, the installations at the Guggenheim Museum and Italian Cultural Institute honor the history and traditions of Southern Italian culture encapsulated through vast mediums of art. It is a fortunate thing to be living in New York City, where such exhibits can exist in relatively close range. If you have access to the city, I urge you to visit these events while they are still in session. Some things should not be missed.

By Giovanni di Napoli

Further reading:

• Chaos and Classicism: Art in France, Italy, and Germany, 1918-1936 by Kenneth E. Silver, Guggenheim Museum, 2010

• New York—The Art of the Neapolitan Crèche/Nativity in the World at i-Italy.org

• The Angel Tree: A Christmas Celebration by Linn Howard and Mary Jane Pool, Abrams, 1993

• A Neapolitan Christmas Crib by Olga Raggio, The Metroploitan Museum of Art Bulletin, December 1965