An exhibition of 20th century sculptor Constantin Brancusi has opened at the Pompidou Center

An exhibition of the outstanding 20th century sculptor Constantin Brancusi (1876–1957) “Art is just beginning” opened at the Pompidou Center. The artist, born in Romania, became famous in Paris in the 1930s, becoming a Brancusi-Brancusi and building a real temple-museum around himself during his lifetime. In his workshop, he moved stones with his hand, transformed shapes, played the violin, listened to jazz and received admiring fans and admirers. Kommersant correspondent reports Alexey Tarkhanov.

Constantin Brancusi is compared to Henri Matisse, especially the Matisse of later times, when collage replaced painting for the Frenchman. And for the simplicity of the original technique, and for the accuracy and magnificence of the result. And for the prices – quite Matisse, Brancusi, in the company of Giacometti, is among the most expensive sculptors of the twentieth century. In Paris, the Romanian lived as a hermit in his workshop, without becoming French (the state agreed to give him a passport only five years before his death), without asking to see anyone and accepting only those he liked. His friend, composer Erik Satie, helped the newcomer become known as a gray-bearded sage-master, a legend, a wizard, sitting by the fireplace among his fantastic works, which also moved. Brancusi equipped the podiums with electric motors, and when visiting beauties were not dancing on them, heavy circles, similar to millstones, rotated the sculptures, showing them from all their best sides.

Once born, his works never left the studio in one way or another. As exhibition commissioner Ariane Coulondre told reporters at the opening, Brancusi first made a sculpture from stone, carefully polishing the surface, only then transferred it to bronze, polished to a mirror shine, and then, if the stone and bronze were sold, an exact copy, cast, remained in the workshop from plaster.

Each part of the space of his workshop in the Ronsen cul-de-sac (disappeared in the 1950s during the expansion of the neighboring hospital) was itself created as a sculpture, such as the monumental fireplace, for the opening of which guests gathered as if for a vernissage, or the acoustic reflector speakers made of stone, invented by the owner – Brancusi loved music.

Brancusi’s legend, supported by his friends, was created by himself. His talent as a sculptor and skill as a storyteller. The best example of this is the story of its appearance in France. A graduate of the Romanian Academy of Arts went on foot from Bucharest to Paris, and from story to story the journey turned into a pilgrimage through Austria, Germany and Switzerland, Vienna and Munich, with meetings, natural disasters, illnesses – just like in the Middle Ages. Whether this was true or not can no longer be verified, but, like Lomonosov’s fish train, it has become an irrefutable book fact.

Many people tried to come to his workshop, but only the most famous, beautiful and useful were allowed in. The guests were awakened to a thirst for creativity, and Brancusi transferred their life in the studio to film: photographer and famous beauty Florence Meyer dances on his podium, Ezra Pound, Marcel Duchamp, his friend Mary Reynolds and British pianist Vera Moore are having fun at the common table. The sculptor had an affair with her and even had a son, whom, however, the Romanian did not recognize, since he still gravitated more towards talented men from his circle.

In Paris, he briefly worked in the studio of Auguste Rodin, the sculptor closest to him in spirit at that time, but fled from there, saying: “Nothing will grow in the shade of such large trees.” This was the last year of his “study”, and as a “graduation” project he created the “Kiss” that made him famous, which has since been repeated in many versions. He did exactly this: over the years, improving his sculptures, gradually simplifying them, making them less and less figurative and more and more expressive. Evidence of this is his numerous series of “birds”, which began with a work in which the features of a real bird are still discernible, and came to elongated almost abstract figures, half-birds, half-fish, depicting not so much the body as the feeling of flight, gliding in an environment that could there would be both sky and sea.

At the same time, clearing his works of any literary content, he offered viewers much more complex associations. His “Princess X,” which he created as a bowed female figure and which turned into an erect penis depending on how you look and what you see, was a portrait of Princess Marie Bonaparte, one of the founders of French psychoanalysis, an admirer and researcher of Freud. The sculpture was removed from the exhibition of the Salon of Independents in 1920 because they were afraid of a scandal. Remaining the property of Brancusi, it inspired many followers, such as the Dutchman Herman McKinck with his 1960s Rocking Machine, which was used by Stanley Kubrick in A Clockwork Orange, in which the hero kills a wealthy collector with a sculpted phallus.

Brancusi was much more gentle with his collectors. One of the halls is dedicated to their portraits, in which there is no portrait resemblance whatsoever. They expected something completely different from him. When customers rebelled, he told them: “Now I’ll show you what your portrait really looks like.” He carefully freed their features from all unnecessary things, achieving a purity of impression from polished stone or bronze, reflecting the viewer’s gaze. The reputation of a magician who depicts not the body, but the soul, was deserved by him.

The center of the exhibition is the hero’s workshop, carefully restored by architect Pascal Rodriguez, moved at one time from a building doomed to demolition. This was the museum and archive he created during his lifetime. Brancusi kept thousands of letters addressed to him, photographs that he took himself, not trusting journalists, and even records that he played for guests. In order for the space he created with his own hands to survive, the artist bequeathed it to the state along with his works.

For many years, the faithfully reproduced workshop was housed in a special annex to the Pompidou Center, attracting surprisingly few visitors. Why is clear at the exhibition. It is interesting to look at the space, which, however, looks like a workshop in any museum-reserve; a rural carpenter or stonemason could live in it. But the more obvious is the emptiness left by its author, who was the main exhibit of his lifetime museum. The workshop stands clean and lifeless, and the sculptures from it have scattered throughout the halls of the Pompidou Center. We can only watch videos about how we spent time in this space, when the fire was burning in the fireplace and the owner was at home.