Kaiho Yuchiku (1654-1728), “The Tale of Drunken Demon (Shuten Doji Emaki),” Edo period (1615-1868), late 17th century. Scroll II from a set of three handscrolls, ink, color, and gold on paper, 12 3/4 x 797 in. Spencer Collection, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations.
The advent and subsequent triumph of modernism did much to diminish the role of narrative in the visual arts, insisting, as it did, that the exigencies of craft should take precedence over anything smacking of literature. But modernism is an historical blip—a significant blip, mind you, but a blip all the same. Narratives have dominated world art. To ignore (or downplay) as much is to mistake The Annunciation for a flat surface covered with colors assembled in a certain order.
That last line is from the post-impressionist painter Maurice Denis, and it iterates the feet-on-the-ground essence of picture making. But it also throws out the allusive and, yes, the literary baby with the bathwater. Thoughts about narrative—about temporal flow, cultural myths and the human imagination’s range, influence and probity—came to mind while viewing Storytelling in Japanese Art, an exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Which isn’t to suggest that the colors and flat surfaces assembled by the painters and sculptors featured in Storytelling don’t merit attention. A story is captivating to the extent to which it is told well, and the artisans responsible for this panel painting, that devotional carving or emaki, a form of illuminated handscroll, tell them well indeed.
In the work, elaborate stylization coexists with acute observation, generalization with specificity, charm with gravity. Hell is rendered in burnt copper tonalities and whiplash rhythms; the seasons with lucid economy. Shibata Zeshin’s “The Ibaraki Demon” (ca. 1839–40), the closest Storytelling comes to a showstopper, is a miraculous confluence of line, gesture, character and motion.
Motion as a string of events unfolding in time presides, even if it’s inhibited by curatorial prudence. Were “Illustrated Legends of the Kitano Tenjin Shrine” or other emaki “read” as originally intended—unrolled by hand—they wouldn’t be long on this earth.
Still and all, Storytelling is a rich, engrossing and provocative brew. If only for the simultaneously occurring narratives in Kano Jinnojo’s kaleidoscopic “The Battles of Ichinotani and Yashima” (c. early 17th century), the show would be worth a trip. But it contains infinitely more than that.
The more Sarah Sze accumulates and organizes detritus—the more impressive her meticulous arrangements of this, that and the other thing become—the more you have to wonder what it is she’s concealing or, for that matter, running from.
Sarah Sze: Infinite Line, a mid-career exhibition at Asia Society, does everything and goes nowhere simultaneously. Give the artist this much: She imagines what might have happened if Robert Rauschenberg had been a neatnik beholden to Alexander Calder and not the New York School—and if he had been a victim of information overload rather than its messenger.
Immaculate confusion is the result, painfully choreographed and scrupulously inert, though the work hints at pictorial invention. The trouble is, Sze is a sculptor—or an installation artist, whatever. Where to begin detailing her materials? Among them are a rolodex, a tape measure, pocket change, rocks, an upturned driver’s license, rolled-up photographs of natural phenomena, a desk fan plugged in and working, exquisitely ordered confetti, a take-out coffee cup from “Bread Corrado Pastry” and string, lots of string. What Sze gleans from Calder is his gift for rendering line as a three-dimensional entity and the theatrical contingencies of his “Circus.”
The site-specific works are deftly configured within the soaring galleries at Asia Society. Sze does have a way with the juxtaposition of the minute and the encompassing, the architectural and the ephemeral. What she doesn’t bring to the work is any sense of particularity. One Sze is indistinguishable from the other.
In the end, all those finicky agglomerations of stuff don’t coalesce into anything with much vitality, personality or staying power. An ambitious blur of expertise—we should ask more from our artists.
Sarah Sze: Infinite Line
Through March 25, Asia Society, 725 Park Ave., 212-288-6400, www.asiasociety.org.
Storytelling in Japanese Art
Through May 6, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1000 5th Ave., 212-535-7710, www.metmuseum.org.
CRITICS PICKS
ART
Thaddeus Radell: “The Will to Remember: Drawings, Paintings and Reliefs,” Next Gallery, Metropolitan College of New York, 75 Varick St., 12th Fl., ends Mar. 9. [John Goodrich]
Kim Sloane: “Paintings,” M55 Art, 44-02 23rd St., Long Island City, ends Mar. 3. [JG]
CLASSICAL
A Stylish Wizard: Simon Trpceski, a pianist from Macedonia, is an old-fashioned virtuoso, stylish and wizardly. He gives a recital of Schubert and Liszt at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall, Feb. 27, 7:30 p.m., 881 7th Ave. [Jay Nordlinger]
Maazel and the Vienna Phil: Lorin Maazel conducts the Vienna Philharmonic in a program that includes his orchestral treatment of Wagner’s Ring. Sounds should be glorious. Carnegie Hall, 881 7th Ave., Mar. 3, 8 p.m. [JN]
Masur and the Missa Solemnis: Kurt Masur leads the Boston Symphony Orchestra and other forces in Beethoven’s Missa solemnis. A profound conductor working with one of the profoundest of works. Carnegie Hall, 881 7th Ave., Mar. 6, 8 p.m. [JN]
Global Melodies: Folk and classical music meet as Carnegie Hall partners with the World Music Institute for “The Routes and Roots of Bartók.” Zankel Hall, 881 7th Ave., Feb. 22, 7:30 p.m. [Judy Gelman Myers]
DANCE
Flamenco Fling: Manuela Carrasco, the “Empress of Flamenco” comes to town. City Center, 130 W. 56th St., Mar. 2, 8 p.m. [JGM]
JAZZ
Blue Tuesdays on Wednesday: Singers Sheila Jordan, an NEA Jazz Master, and Jay Clayton, adept with Cage as well as standards, in a rare joint intimate appearance with favorite guitar and bass accompanists. Feb. 29, 8:30 p.m., Cornelia Street Café, 29 Cornelia St. [Howard Mandel]
New Music Observatory: Master of “Conduction” Butch Morris leads an open rehearsal then batons a spontaneous orchestra performance every Monday in March at 7:30 p.m. and 10:30 p.m. at The Stone—another reason anyone seriously interested in experimentation beyond genres should visit John Zorn’s recital room. Corner of Avenue C and 2nd Street. [HM]
Urbanity at Birdland: Guitarist John Pizzarelli’s Quartet’s sing-and-swing take on the American Songbook, 8:30 and 11 p.m., Feb. 28–Mar. 3, Birdland, 315 W. 44th St. [HM]
FILM
Vocal Styling on View: Documentary “Por el Flamenco” reveals the healing power of cante jondo, revered by Federico García Lorca. Free admission, Q&A with director after the film. Bar open one hour in advance. This event is held with the support of the Cultural Affairs Department, Israeli Consulate. Centro Español, 239 W.14th St., Mar. 4, 10 p.m. [JGM]
