A glimpse of Klimt

1892 was a heck of a bad year for Gustav Klimt.  For starters, his father died of a stroke.  Then his brother and artistic partner Ernst died. On a personal level, there he is, still a relatively young man at 30, having to look after his mother and sister, as well as his sister-in-law and niece.  And on a professional level, it is perhaps even harder. Despite the fact that he had won a Golden Order of Merit award for his contribution to art from the hand of Emperor Franz Josef himself, he was just about to be denied a Professorship at the Academy of Art.

No wonder he joined the Secessionists and became their president.  I would have done the same thing.

Well, no, I would not have done the same thing becuase I have nowhere near the talent that Gustav had, nor half his artistic vision. 

Vienna is all about Klimt.  We spent the afternoon gazing at his Beethoven Ode to Joy freize in the marvelous Secession building, itself a revolution to architecture at the time.  It really is a unique work, and it's wonderful to see it taken in hand and saved from its crumbling state, brought back to this building to be gazed upon by such as us.

His works seem to have been divided into three parcels, with the second parcel at the Vienna Museum, but the most iconic and famous one we saved for last, tucked in a darkened room on the first floor of the Belvedere Palace. 

The Kiss.

Is there anyone who has not seen this image somewhere?  Klimt used gold like no one else, and here is at his best.  He is able to make two bodies out of different patterns but otherwise are indistinguishable from each other, making them incredibly sensuous.  Which of course thumbed his proverbial nose at the conservative officials and society of the day who censored too much leg or back in paintings. 

What I didn't know and found fascinating was the male model he used was himself, and the female model was Emelie Floge, the sister of his deceased brother's wife!  Hmmm.

Actually he never shows much of any man (although the warrior in the Beethoven Frieze is resplendant).  I suppose living with sisters and mothers and daughters made him especially sensitive to the female figure, and he certainly seemed to be appreciative of female beauty in general.  That is, if the legendary large number of affairs he had are to be believed!

But who cares about all that?  Dust to dust, etc. etc. Societies change and what is outrageous in one is casual in another.  What lasts is the art.  And I feel lucky to be here and looking at this, right now.