For those of us who came of age in the second half of the 20th Century, it was dogma that the greatest artist of the 20th Century was Pablo Picasso – he was everywhere, at the forefront of transformative artistic movements such as Cubism and he worked in almost every possible medium, in some cases revealing never-before-realized artistic potential in painting, collage, sculpture, and ceramics. He was constantly creative and prodigiously prolific, leaving footprints on the art scene that most thought would be difficult to matched or fill but certainly would remain relevant far into the future.
Cover of Robert Rauschenberg, published by The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2017useum of Modern Art
Cover of Robert Rauschenberg, published by The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2017
However, by 21st Century reckoning, it is Andy Warhol who is the most important artist of the 20th Century. Not only did Warhol also work in every medium but his appropriation of images, use of silk screens, his series of multiples and use of a “factory” model to produce his work, resonates strongly as an influence for artists today who see themselves more in Warhol, whose work is itself easier to appropriate than the singular artistry of Picasso.
Yet Warhol’s coronation may prove short-lived. The current Rauschenberg retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art, “Robert Rauschenberg: Among Friends” (through September 17) makes a convincing case for Rauschenberg as the master of bricolage and father of the collaborative, inventive, artistic practice that so dominates and inspires contemporary art and artists. The Rauschenberg exhibit is a paen to creativity and art-making which as the exhibit amply demonstrates can be fashioned from found object and images and the detritus of our lives.
“Rauschenberg: Among Friends” presents over 250 works in a variety of mediums (there is even a work made of bubbling mud!), that span Rauschenberg’s six decades of work. There are drawings, prints, photographs and sound and video recordings, all of which give testament to Rauschenberg’s inclusive and collaborative spirit. They are paired with works by Japser Johns, Cy Twombly, Jean Tinguely and others.
Peter Moore. Performance view of Robert Rauschenberg’s Pelican (1963), 1965. © Barbara Moore/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY. Courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York © Barbara Moore/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY. Courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York
Peter Moore. Performance view of Robert Rauschenberg’s Pelican (1963), 1965. © Barbara Moore/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY. Courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York
Among Rauschenberg’s earliest collaborations was with the painter Susan Weil whom he followed to Black Mountain College, an art school that stressed artistic collaboration and where Merce Cunningham and John Cage were also, at times, in residence. With Weil, whom Rauschenberg married in 1950 and with whom he had a son before divorcing in 1952, Rasuchenberg created artworks and dances (Rauschenberg even performed as a rollerskater).
In the show, we learn that it was Andy Warhol himself who showed Rauschenberg how to silk screens images onto canvas incorporating the detritus of personal life – photos, newspapers, postcards, drawings and use color and grids to organize the elements, yielding some of Rauschenberg’s iconic works over the decades. However, afraid to ever rest on his laurels, Rauschenberg had the screens destroyed so he wouldn’t repeat himself.
Robert Rauschenberg. Retroactive I. 1964. Oil and silk-screen-ink print on canvas. Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, Connecticut. Gift of Susan Morse Hilles. Photo: Allen Phillips/Wadsworth Atheneum © 2017 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation © 2017 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation
Robert Rauschenberg. Retroactive I. 1964. Oil and silk-screen-ink print on canvas. Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, Connecticut. Gift of Susan Morse Hilles. Photo: Allen Phillips/Wadsworth Atheneum © 2017 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation
Rasuchenberg expanded of notions of what art could be. As opposed to the great man theory of Picasso, and the leaders of Abstract Expressionism Jackson Pollock or Mark Rothko, Rasuchenberg was a scruffier magpie. He took a bed, stapled the pillow and covers to it, placed it upright and painted on the quilt. His “Combines,” three-dimensional collages, included a tire and a taxidermied goat.
Robert Rauschenberg. Monogram. 1955–59. Oil, paper, fabric, printed reproductions, metal, wood, rubber shoe-heel, and tennis ball on two conjoined canvases with oil on taxidermied Angora goat with brass plaque and rubber tire on wood platform mounted on four casters, 42 × 53 1/4 × 64 1/2 in. (106.7 × 135.2 × 163.8 cm). Moderna Museet, Stockholm. Purchase with contribution from Moderna Museets Vänner/The Friends of Moderna Museet. © 2017 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation© 2017 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation
Robert Rauschenberg. Monogram. 1955–59. Oil, paper, fabric, printed reproductions, metal, wood, rubber shoe-heel, and tennis ball on two conjoined canvases with oil on taxidermied Angora goat with brass plaque and rubber tire on wood platform mounted on four casters, 42 × 53 1/4 × 64 1/2 in. (106.7 × 135.2 × 163.8 cm). Moderna Museet, Stockholm. Purchase with contribution from Moderna Museets Vänner/The Friends of Moderna Museet. © 2017 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation
What comes through so strongly in the work, which is not always “pretty”, “finished” or even coherent, is the importance of the creative impulse itself. Rauschenberg’s work tells us that anything can be the material of art – found objects, discarded items (a tire, a taxidermied goat) Rasuchenberg even made an artwork of bubbling mud.
In this way, the artist himself is at the center of the work – it is his conception, his eye, his combinations and his execution that make the work art. At the same time, the importance of collaboration in Rauschenberg makes plain the message that all art is, in essence, a collaboration – and the notion of Picasso’s singularity is demolished.
