Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Swedish mystic Hilma Af Klint (1862-1944) was a painter of bold, ethereal forms, whose work remained largely in obscurity until 70 years after her death. Dutch modernist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a giant of abstract art, renowned for his use of geometrical lines and primary colours. Despite living and working during the same time, the two artists never crossed paths. Now, they find their works in conversation for the first time at Tate Modern’s latest exhibition Forms of Life.
Forms of Life aims to uncover the artists’ lesser-known parallels, moving more or less sequentially from their origins in landscape painting, to their preoccupation with the natural world, to their immersion in esoteric belief systems. Featuring over 250 drawings and paintings, the exhibition alternates between rooms devoted to both shared and individual themes.
The enjoining of Af Klint and Mondrian is perhaps best understood in terms of their relationship with spiritualism. Both artists were followers of the Theosophy movement, with a fundamental belief of its founder Helena Blavatsky being the existence of invisible forces beyond superficial appearances - a belief bolstered by emerging scientific discoveries at the time such as atoms, electromagnetic waves and X-rays, all hidden from the human eye but very much real. This is represented assiduously in Af Klint’s Evolution, No. 15, The Seven-Pointed Stars (1908), which she notoriously claimed to be part of a series of works commissioned by her spiritual guide Amaliel. An observation of humanity’s journey to a higher spiritual plain, the painting is replete with colourful symbolism including her trademark spiral motif to indicate the cyclical nature of life. Similarly, in Mondrian’s largely unsung Evolution (1911) we encounter an otherworldly triptych of blue angular figures ascending from the corporeal towards the spiritual.
This engagement with spiritualism can be further extrapolated through Af Klint’s and Mondrian’s close studies of nature. In the opening room of the exhibition, a collection of early landscape paintings line the walls, all glistening sunsets and plaintive stillness. At this point, it is difficult to distinguish whose work is whose, both clearly traversing art through nature and neither having established their fully-fledged styles that we recognise them by today. But then we get to the plants and flowers, where we begin to see a split. Af Klint’s botanical watercolours are delicate as they are detailed, each one painstakingly documented as if she thought she might forget what they looked if she turned away for even a moment. On the other hand, Mondrian’s paintings of single flowers effuse a far more emotive character, his Lily (1909-1910) not just unfurling but coaxing, his Metamorphosis (1908) not just withering but whimpering. So, even where their point of inception may have been the same, the distinctions in their execution were writ large.
Indeed, from then on, the parallels between the two artists grow increasingly tenuous. Much of the work comprising Af Klint’s extensive The Paintings for the Temple (1906-1915) are intense explorations of the oneness of existence, characterised by psychedelic swirls and cryptic symbols. In her words, “The pictures were painted directly through me, without any preliminary drawings and with great force. I had no idea what the paintings were supposed to depict.”. It was evident that spiritualism for her ran far deeper than aesthetics, into her very psyche as a woman and an artist. Meanwhile, Mondrian was fascinated with nature insofar as he “might better express its plastic structure”. This line of thought would go on to inform his theory of neo-plasticism, which focused on the relationship of pure forms- that is, how space could be given life through painting. He strived to reduce nature to its embryonic state, subjugating the individual to bring forth the universal, with Composition with Red, Black, Yellow, Blue and Gray (1921) standing as a radiant culmination of this theory. In this sense, nature and spiritualism simply acted as visual stimuli for him, useful to reference and even to follow but not to dictate his work. Unlike Af Klint’s, Mondrian’s approach to art was of a pragmatic ilk, fundamentally grounded in reality - albeit an abstract one.
The longer we spend in this exhibition, the more we find ourselves wondering what exactly the linchpin between these two artists is. At best, Forms of Life reads as an ambitious attempt to propose an alternative narrative that unravels the canonised belief that abstract art is void of content and meaning. Instead, it emphasises just how entangled the pioneers of abstraction were with spiritualism, drawing upon its teachings to imbue their works with a true profundity and complexity. For Af Klint, this exhibition certainly goes some way in attributing to her the formal institutional recognition that eluded her during her lifetime. For Mondrian, the unique recontextualization of his early work may prove the antidote to his arguably waning reputation (it’s been over 25 years since a major Mondrian exhibition in the UK). At worst, Forms of Life comes across as a confused two-birds-one-stone attempt at wedging artists together whose works do share some commonalities but not quite enough to make it make sense, in turn hindering us from simply revelling in Af Klint’s mesmeric spirals and marvelling at Mondrian’s gridded masterpieces.
Ultimately, Forms of Life features some genuinely ground-breaking works from both artists, and it is a thrill to see so many of their rarer pieces up-close, together with their big hits. The indubitable stand-out is the final room of the exhibition, occupied by Af Klint’s colossal The Ten Largest (1907) paintings charting the four stages of human life from childhood to old age. The trouble endures, though, as we are offered no satisfying response to our nagging suspicion that this should have just been two separate solo exhibitions. After all, haven’t both artists done enough to warrant that?
Hilma af Klint & Piet Mondrian: Forms of Life is showing at Tate Modern until 3rd September
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
