Wright on Exhibit: Frank Lloyd Wright’s Architectural Exhibitions

More than one hundred exhibitions of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work were mounted between 1894 and his death in 1959. Wright organized the majority of these exhibitions himself and viewed them as important to his self-presentation as his extensive writings. He used them to introduce his new work, appeal to a wide audience, and persuade his detractors. Wright on Exhibit presents the first history of this neglected aspect of the architect’s influential career.

Drawing extensively from Wright’s unpublished correspondence, Kathryn Smith challenges the preconceived notion of Wright as a self-promoter who displayed his work in search of money, clients, and fame. She shows how he was an artist-architect projecting an avant-garde program, an innovator who expanded the palette of installation design as technology evolved, and a social activist driven to revolutionize society through design. While Wright’s earliest exhibitions were largely for other architects, by the 1930s he was creating public installations intended to inspire debate and change public perceptions about architecture. The nature of his exhibitions expanded with the times beyond models, drawings, and photographs to include more immersive tools such as slides, film, and even a full-scale structure built especially for his 1953 retrospective at the Guggenheim Museum. Placing Wright’s exhibitions side by side with his writings, Smith shows how integral these exhibitions were to his vision.

Photograph by Pedro E. Guerrero

Q: What is different about Wright on Exhibit than other books you have written about Wright?

Kathryn Smith: I chose his architectural exhibitions during his lifetime because it was a finite subject that had real clarity and purpose. It provided a great framework to view how Wright favored his own work, how he prepared it in drawings and models, and how he dealt with the press, museums, the public, and contemporary architects. I live in Los Angeles, the location of the Getty Research Library, where Wright’s correspondence of 103,000 letters and documents are on deposit on microfiche. By 2016, I would say that I had read about 15,000 pieces of this correspondence. I knew his voice and his moods. I wanted that to come through to the reader by quoting the correspondence. It was one of my main purposes: to put the reader as much as possible into the moment.

Q: How many exhibitions are in your final count?

KS: My total is 124 exhibitions. There is a gap between 1915 and 1929. But from 1930 forward, there were at least one or more exhibitions–one man shows or surveys–every year until his death where my book stops.
I created two appendices: the list of all of the exhibitions and an illustrated catalogue raisonné of all known models, extant or lost. Even the list of models is staggering. There are 57.

Q: The excerpts from letters are vivid, but how did you illustrate the book?

KS: I was lucky because Wright clearly wanted to document his career. Beginning in 1907, he hired professionals to photograph his installations. I accumulated a good representation of black and white images of all the major exhibitions. But I learned that the shows themselves were rich in color. It was imperative to communicate this richness to the reader. The book has 57 color illustrations, primarily of drawings, and 188 half tones.

Q: Did you make any discoveries that surprised you?

KS: Yes, quite a few. I would say that there is a very vague outline in the mind of many people who have heard of the major exhibitions. They conjure up basically either positive or negative impressions. But that changes dramatically when the factual history is traced. For instance, “Sixty Years of Living Architecture” was conceived in Florence, Italy in 1948 and went through the most torturous three-year period of failed international diplomatic planning. Wright was completely ignorant of this activity. Yet, it finally opened due to the determination, the effort, and the financial support of a few individuals, American and Italian. It is a very compelling story, complete with cliffhangers. Almost all the major exhibitions I wrote about were dramatic with Wright threatening to pull out at the last minute.

 

Sixty Years of Living Architecture, poster, 1952 (Private collection)

Broadacre City exhibition, New York, 1935 (Scott Architectural Archive)

Q: What was the most memorable thing you learned about Wright?

KS: After the openings came the reviews. In some years, especially, before 1948, when there were a number of mixed or negative assessments, he felt downhearted and baffled. In truth, he had a rather thin skin. His most characteristic response was to turn to writing: he lashed out in anger at the critics. What I was struck by was Wright’s vulnerability. There were quite a few instances of negative criticism when he seemed to stand aside, like an outsider, not comprehending why the American people did not embrace him as their champion as he intended. It is true, he became a “starchitect,” in the parlance of our day; but he was looking for recognition of greater depth.

 

A peek inside The Art of Philosophy by Susanna Berger

Delving into the intersections between artistic images and philosophical knowledge in Europe from the late sixteenth to the early eighteenth centuries, The Art of Philosophy shows that the making and study of visual art functioned as important methods of philosophical thinking and instruction. Featuring previously unpublished prints and drawings from the early modern period and lavish gatefolds, The Art of Philosophy reveals the essential connections between visual commentary and philosophical thought. Watch the trailer to learn more:

The Art of Philosophy: Visual Thinking in Europe from the Late Renaissance to the Early Enlightenment by Susanna Berger from Princeton University Press on Vimeo.

Susanna Berger is assistant professor of art history at the University of Southern California.

A peek inside The Art of Philosophy

Delving into the intersections between artistic images and philosophical knowledge in Europe from the late sixteenth to the early eighteenth centuries, The Art of Philosophy shows that the making and study of visual art functioned as important methods of philosophical thinking and instruction. From frontispieces of books to monumental prints created by philosophers in collaboration with renowned artists, Susanna Berger examines visual representations of philosophy and overturns prevailing assumptions about the limited function of the visual in European intellectual history. Take a peek inside:

Craig Clunas on Chinese Painting and its Audiences

ClunasWhat is Chinese painting? When did it begin? And what are the different associations of this term in China and the West? In Chinese Painting and Its Audiences, which is based on the A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts given at the National Gallery of Art, leading art historian Craig Clunas draws from a wealth of artistic masterpieces and lesser-known pictures to show how Chinese painting has been understood by a range of audiences over five centuries, from the Ming Dynasty to today. Recently, Clunas took the time to answer some questions about the book.

There are lots of books about Chinese art, what’s the particular scope of this one?

CC: This book isn’t about the whole of Chinese art, but it looks at the important art of painting in China over the last five hundred years or so, from the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) to the very recent past. It does it not from the point of view of the creation of Chinese painting but through a history of looking at it, and a history of the types of viewers who have formed the very diverse audiences for it over those centuries.

If I don’t know much about Chinese culture, will I be able to understand this book?

CC: I hope anybody interested in art can get something from this book. It has its origins in a lecture series, the A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts, held regularly at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, since 1953. In 2012 I gave these lectures (with the same title as the book); that’s only the second time in over sixty years that art from China has been the focus of a Mellon Lecture series. So I was very conscious of addressing a non-specialist audience, of people with an interest in the visual arts generally but without any specific expertise, and I’ve tried to keep the technicalities to a minimum in the main text, while still providing the evidence for other scholars to judge the strength of my arguments. When people say, ‘I don’t know anything about Chinese art,’ they often in fact already have a strong set of preconceptions, and I want to dispel some of these by showing the actual variety of painting being produced over a long time span, including work made in China in the past which tends to get left out of the category called ‘Chinese painting’ today.

How would you break down the main argument? 

CC: Obviously, back in the sixteenth century people in China who viewed a work by a famous painter of the day, or an old master from the past, didn’t think of what they were looking at as ‘Chinese painting.’ To them, it was just ‘painting.’ Today, whether in the Chinese-speaking world or outside it, the category ‘Chinese painting’ is the meaningful one we use to describe both historic painting and contemporary work of certain kinds. The book looks at how this came about, and shows how it was through the actions of viewers that this cultural category was formed, concentrating on certain kinds of pictures and marginalizing others. I’m claiming that the understanding of Chinese painting in some ways ran before it could walk, making big generalizations about the subject before much of the detailed work was done. These generalizations then fed into art history as a whole, where ‘Chinese painting’ stands as probably the major counter-example to the western tradition of art. I’m arguing here that the category ‘Chinese painting’ isn’t a timeless essence of Chinese culture, or an imposition on China from outside, but the result of a complex set of historical processes involving different types of audiences.

How does the book do this? 

CC: Firstly, by showing a fresh and broad set of images, you can’t write about pictures without showing them! The book is very heavily illustrated; it includes some familiar paintings which everybody already interested in the topic might recognize (though I hope they are talked about in a new way), but it also has lots of unfamiliar images, pictures which haven’t been widely reproduced before. I hope every reader will see something surprising and something beautiful. At the book’s heart are a sequence of what to me are really interesting paintings of different types of people – men and women, emperors and merchants, scholars and gallery-goers – looking at paintings. These pictures which take viewing as their subject can tell us a lot. They are at the core of a sequence of chapters which roughly speaking takes the topic from the fifteenth century to our own time, looking at a number of ideal audiences for Chinese painting; I’ve called these: the gentleman, the emperor, the merchant, the nation, the people. I’ve tried to balance analysis of the images themselves with the context in which they were produced, and to look at audiences both inside and outside China, which go back a lot longer than people might imagine. I’m obviously dependent on the specialist scholarship of other writers, and I’ve tried to pull together some of this work to give readers who might be interested in knowing more about a particular topic a sense of some of the great work being done now on Chinese painting. You can now read extensively in English about Chinese painting theory and criticism, and the lives of individual artists, over a broad time span. I’d be pleased if this book made people just a bit more aware of that great body of knowledge, and of the sheer scale of China’s artistic production.

How do you think this book might be received in China? 

CC: I’ve written other books on Chinese art, mostly of the Ming period, which have been translated into Chinese, and what I find interesting (and a bit surprising) is how some Chinese readers find contemporary resonances in books which I thought of when I wrote them as being ‘just’ about history. So I’ve come to accept that the history we write is never ‘just’ about the past. I’ve also learned (and this would be one of the main arguments of the book) that it’s wrong to imagine some homogeneous ‘Chinese view’ of painting or anything else, as if everybody in that huge country thought the same way. I hope some readers there might find it intriguing, and that even if they don’t like its way of arguing they would recognise the respect I feel for one of the world’s great bodies of art and human creativity.

How do you see the story of Chinese painting and its audiences developing in the future? 

CC: Painting, whether in brush and ink or oil on canvas, is only one of the practices of the visual arts in China today, but it remains an extremely important one. This is not least because the boom in the art market in China makes works of both past and present hugely valuable commodities. It seems pretty unlikely to me that the significant collections of Chinese painting outside China (whether in museums or in private hands) will grow very much in the future, the gravitational pull of the Chinese market is now just too strong. But the digital reproduction of artworks, which is proceeding now at a terrific pace, may mean that the physical location of paintings will matter less and less, their audiences will become more global and the composition of these audiences will get more and more diverse. That’s perhaps going to make it harder and harder for a restrictive definition of ‘Chinese painting’ to sustain itself, and maybe in time it will just be part of something called ‘painting’ again, or – who knows – even the dominant strand within it.

Craig Clunas is the Professor of History of Art of Oxford University in England. His books include Screen of Kings: Royal Art and Power in Ming China, Empire of Great Brightness: Visual and Material Culture and Social Status in Early Modern China, and Art in China.

Asia Week New York: March 9–18

Asia Week New York is an annual event in which top-tier Asian art specialists, major auction houses, museums, and Asian cultural institutions collaborate to honor and promote Asian art in New York City. Since 2009, the Asia Week New York Association has focused its efforts on putting together an event-filled week that draws collectors and curators from across the globe. If you’re going to be in the area, be sure to make time for some of the exciting special sales, lectures, receptions, and tours taking place in NYC. Here at PUP, we’re thrilled to be publishing two books that celebrate Asian art this season—Chinese Painting and Its Audiences by Craig Clunas and Kanban by Alan Scott Pate—and to revisit a favorite backlist title—Preserving the Dharma by John M. Rosenfield. If you can’t attend the events, you can always join the conversation on social media using the hashtag #AsiaWeekNY.

Exploring the complex relationships between works of art and those who look at them, Chinese Painting and Its Audiences sheds new light on how the concept of Chinese painting has been formed and reformed over hundreds of years.

Clunas

Providing a look into a unique, handmade world, Alan Scott Pate offers new insights into Japan’s commercial and artistic roots, the evolution of trade, the links between commerce and entertainment, and the emergence of mass consumer culture in Kanban: Traditional Shop Signs of Japan.

Kanban

In Preserving the Dharma: Hōzan Tankai and Japanese Buddhist Art of the Early Modern Era, eminent art historian John Rosenfield explores the life and art of the Japanese Buddhist monk Hozan Tankai (1629–1716).

Dharma

Featured image: The Art of Japan (Medina, WA) Torii Kotondo Beauty Combing her Hair 1933

12 Facts from Red: The History of a Color

RedOver the years, the color red has represented many things, from the life force and the divine to love, lust, and anger. Throughout the Middle Ages, this vibrant color held a place of privilege in the Western world. For many cultures, red was not just one color, but rather the only color worthy enough to be used for social purposes. In this beautifully illustrated book, Michel Pastoureau, the acclaimed author of Blue, Black, and Green, illuminates red’s evolution through a diverse selection of images that include the cave paintings of Lascaux, Renaissance masters, and the modern paintings and stained glass of Mark Rothko and Josef Albers. How much do you know about the history and symbolism of red?

In many languages, the same word can mean “red,” “beautiful,” and “colorful” all at once. Coloratus in classical Latin and colorado in modern Castilian can both mean “red,” or simply “colored.”

In Russian, the word for “red” shares a common root with the word for “beautiful.” Krasnyy and krasivy respectively.

The image of a white, somber Greece, inherited from historians and theoreticians of neoclassicism, is false. The Greeks made use of vivid, contrasting colors.

Vases with red figures appeared in Athens abut 530-520 BCE, presenting a background painted uniformly black with figures worked in relief that took the red color of the clay upon firing. The drawings were more precise than what had come before, the realism greater, and the subjects more varied.

In ancient Rome, cinnabar was a popular medium for making red despite its high price and dangerous nature—it is a powerful poison. For example, it was present throughout Pompeii in wall painting.

Dyeing, like painting, was first achieved in ranges of red.

Henna is a bush that grows in warm regions whose leaves when dried and reduced to a powder provide a colorant for dyeing in red or in reddish brown.

Throughout their history, Roman dyers seem to have been most skilled in the range of reds, purples, oranges, and yellows. Celtic and German dyers were most successful with greens and blues.

The flag of the Crusades was white with a red cross, symbolically representing the blood of Christ and representing the blood that the soldiers were willing to spill to free the Holy Lands.

In the Middle Ages, judges were most often dressed in red, the color of their delegated power and their function: to state the law and render judgments in the place king, prince, city or state. The angel who expelled Adam and Even from Paradise was depicted in red clothing: an angelic dispenser of justice.

In the medieval period, red was both feminine and masculine—virile and full of grace. On the feminine side, it represented love, radiance, and beauty. For men, it was the color of courage and power.

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For more on the history and symbolism of this vibrant color, read Red: The History of a Color. You can also enter our giveaway for a chance to win a copy, and be sure to share your red photos with us on Twitter and Instagram using the hashtag #PUPRed.

Michel Pastoureau is a historian and director of studies at the École Pratique des Hautes Études de la Sorbonne in Paris. A specialist in the history of colors, symbols, and heraldry, he is the author of many books, including Red: The History of a Color.

Happy Valentine’s Day from PUP

Valentine’s Day is the day we all show the people we care about how special they are to us. This year, we’re celebrating with the publication of Michel Pastoureau’s Red: The History of a Color, because red is the color of love! Enter for a chance to win a copy of your own on Goodreads or by submitting your own red pictures using the hashtag #PUPRed on Twitter and Instagram.

Red: The History of a Color Valentine’s Giveaways

Got red? We’re excited to announce two
new giveaways!

Throughout the centuries, the color red has symbolized many different things, from masculine power, strength, and courage to the immorality of the Catholic Church. On Valentine’s Day, red is a universal symbol of romantic love. During the month of February we’re hosting a Goodreads giveaway of Red: The History of a Color, Michel Pastoureau’s beautifully illustrated tour of centuries of red symbolism. Enter for a chance to win yours on Goodreads. We’ll select three random winners on March 1.

And for another chance to win, show us your red! Just share your red photos with us on Twitter and Instagram using the hashtag #PUPRed, and we’ll be randomly selecting a winner among those participants on Valentine’s Day.

Red

Announcing Red: The History of a Color

In Red: The History of a Color, Michel Pastoureau writes that to speak of the “color red” is almost a redundancy. The “archetypal color”—and the first that humans mastered and reproduced for painting and dyeing—red has conjured courtly love, danger, beauty, power, politics, and hell. From the paleolithic age through Greco-Roman antiquity to the present, red has represented many things, so many, in fact, that in several languages, the word means “beautiful” and “colorful” at once.

In this gorgeously illustrated book, Pastoureau, the acclaimed author of Blue, Black, and Green, now masterfully navigates centuries of symbolism and complex meanings to present the fascinating and sometimes controversial history of the color red. Take a tour of Red: The History of a Color, and read on about two upcoming giveaways.

For a chance to win one of three copies up for grabs, enter our Goodreads Valentine’s giveaway, which will be running from February 1 to February 28. And for a second chance to win, share your own creative red photos with us on Twitter and Instagram using the hashtag #PUPRed—we’ll be giving another book away to a random participant on Valentine’s day.

Happy birthday, John Singer Sargent

Over on Instagram we’re giving a shout out to John Singer Sargent, born 161 years ago today. Kilmurray & Ormond’s lavish book on his work has been in print for 18 years, and remains a perennial favorite. Here it is perched on our courtyard steps, enjoying the unseasonably warm breeze:

 

The remarkable portraits for which John Singer Sargent is most famous are only one aspect of a career that included landscapes, watercolors, figure subjects, and murals. Even within portraiture, his style ranged from bold experiments to studied formality. And the subjects of his paintings were as varied as his styles, including the leaders of fashionable society, rural laborers, city streets, remote mountains, and the front lines of World War I. John Singer Sargent, edited by Elaine Kilmurray and Richard Ormond surveys and evaluates the extraordinary range of Sargent’s work, and reproduces 150 of his paintings in color.

Happy birthday to a man widely considered to be the leading portrait painter of his generation.

 

Happy birthday, Jean-Michel Basquiat

On this day in 1960, the renowned visual artist Jean-Michel Basquiat was born in Brooklyn, where he would go on to become one of the most fascinating figures in the New York art scene. Princeton University Press proud to have published The Notebooks, a facsimile edition that reproduces the pages of eight of Basquiat’s rarely seen working notebooks for the first time.

Basquiat was known early on for his involvement with 1970s New York street art, including the SAMO tag created with Al Diaz, before he developed a successful studio practice indebted to a range of influences, from Neo-Expressionism to African art to jazz. Basquiat’s work explored the interplay between words and images, often touching on culture, race, and class. Of his extraordinary gifts, The New York Times Magazine, which profiled him in a 1985 cover story, wrote, “Not only does he possess a bold sense of color and composition, but, in his best paintings, unlike many of his contemporaries, he maintains a fine balance between seemingly contradictory forces: control and spontaneity, menace and wit, urban imagery and primitivism.”

From 1980 to 1987, Basquiat filled numerous working notebooks with drawings and pictograms of crowns, teepees, and hatch-marked hearts alongside notes, observations, and fragments of poems that reflect his deep interests in comics, street and pop art, and politics. Many of these images and words found their way into his drawings and paintings. Take a peek at some of the pages in this trailer.

Basquiat Notebooks jacketThe Notebooks
Jean-Michel Basquiat

Edited by Larry Warsh

 

An interview with Pamela Schnitter, member of the Book, Jacket & Journal Committee

The Book, Jacket, and Journal Show is a juried design competition, open only to AAUP member publishers. Every fall the call-for-entries is distributed, and in January, the jurors gather in AAUP’s New York offices to examine hundreds of submissions and select the very best examples of book, journal, and cover designs. The Book, Jacket & Journal Committee comprises seven members who are charged with selecting judges for the AAUP Book, Jacket, and Journal Show, soliciting donations of paper and printing for the call for entries, as well as the catalog and the award certificates. The committee members are also responsible for designing the call for entries, the web theme, the catalog, the signage, and the awards certificate itself. Chris Lapinski, Design Coordinator at PUP, interviewed Pamela Schnitter, a designer and member of the Book, Jacket & Journal Committee.

Pam Schnitter

Judges discussing submissions. From left to right: Kimberly Glyder, Henk van Assen, Daphne Geismar, Benjamin Shaykin

 

What inspired you to join the Committee?

I was determined to keep the show vibrant and current, especially in terms of publishing e-books and thinking of additional award categories, such as marketing and web design. It might be too early to implement a straight e-book design category — that seems to be out of our hands currently — but maybe in the future. As the publishing world evolves, I strongly believe there are other categories we need to think about in order to remain relevant and vibrant.

What was your most challenging responsibility?

The most challenging responsibility was also the most rewarding, and that was selecting the jurors. They had to be from outside the AAUP community, though they didn’t necessarily have to be designers. So I had to do a lot of research. I reviewed portfolios and websites, read letters of recommendation. It was very tricky because of the pressure to get the right people.

Did you have any preferences?

I felt that some of the jurors should be teachers because of their experience in assessing other designers’ work and giving good feedback. I also wanted individuals with a cutting edge and inspirational style. As it turned out, all except one were teachers. We tried to select a broad range of individuals from the East Coast and the West Coast, though we ended up with a significant number of jurors from RISD [Rhode Island School of Design]. Most had a background in trade publishing.

Did you notice that trade designers had a different outlook than university press designers?

No, I think the two worlds have really come together.

What was the most gratifying part of your experience?

Working with others in the AAUP community, and particularly with other designers, both within AAUP and outside. Learning from them, sharing new ideas about design — that was especially rewarding. And then seeing how it all came together — it was fun watching the jurors get along so well.

Were there any interesting lessons you learned?

When designers become judges, I realized how important it is to give them space to form their own opinions. I felt they should be unhindered in making the best and most honest assessment of other people’s work.

Do you recommend that others consider joining the committee?

Absolutely. It’s great to have contact with other designers and to share our experiences. It’s also a commitment: the committee requests that you stay on for a few years to learn the responsibilities of being a member and to make the transition easier. That’s something to take into consideration, but it’s worthwhile.

Snapping photos at dinner after panel discussion. From left to right: Daphne Geismar, Benjamin Shaykin, Kimberly Glyder, Henk van Assen