The Beyeler Foundation: Vienna 1900 - Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele and Their Time



Beyler Foundation (photo: Bijan Sayfour)

 The Beyeler Foundation’s is a magnificent collection of modern, mostly French, art. The collection is exhibited in a building just outside Basel, Switzerland, designed by Renzo Piano, of Centre Pompidou fame. Unlike the iconic building that dominates Paris’ Right Bank, the Beyeler Foundation Museum is characterized by restraint and tranquility. A long, low pavilion, the walls of glazed glass allow the filtered rays of the sun to embrace every room in natural light. A roof canopy of glass extends over a pond, supported by steel pillars encased in red stone. At strategic points from within the museum, clear glass permits a view of the peaceful garden or the surrounding countryside, with woods and hills rolling into Germany. The floors are of polished oak and heating is provided though discrete grills in the floor.

Some years ago one of my daughters, aged eight, dropped a colouring pencil into one of the air vents. She was drawing her interpretation of a Matisse at the time. A guard saw it happen and quickly came over. I thought that perhaps we were in trouble, but the guard was only concerned that my daughter could retrieve her pencil. The guard called on her walkie-talkie, alas, no engineer was available to remove the grill. But ten minutes later the guard reappeared with a new pack of colouring pencils, compliments of the museum. My daughter, in turn, gave the guard her interpretation of the Matisse, duly signed. It was a nice, warm moment.

The guards on duty yesterday seemed less relaxed. Perhaps it was because the exhibition “Vienna: Klimt, Schiele and their Time” contains so many objects of great value, loaned from museums worldwide. After all, a Gustav Klimt painting sold in 2006 for 135 million dollars - a world record. We had only stepped into the first room of the exhibition when a guard asked two of my daughters (now aged 13 and 11), to ‘take it easy’. I enjoyed seeing them so excited, but the guard seemed apprehensive when he saw their fingers a couple of inches from a photograph of the first Viennese Secession Exhibition in 1898. I then stepped into the second room, with the glorious, large canvasses of Klimt. Alas, I stepped too close to one and an alarm rang, which earned me a warning from a guard. I wish they had told me before I paid the 25 dollars entrance fee that I would have to stand so far (I guess it was about a metre) from the paintings. And then, just to add to my disappointment, the reconstructed Viennese Fin-de Siècle café was closed for a special event.

But I am being fascicous. The guards were never anything but friendly and the art, well, what can one say. I know that Klimt is not everyone’s cup of tea, or cup of coffee. His work has grown in popularity, but some will say that this is because of its decorative quality – it makes for nice postcards and posters. I admit, I am a fan. Klimt’s career was a wonderful journey, from acclaimed and respected painter of historical tableaus in the accepted style to an avant-gardist with a style that blended post-impressionism, cubism, Japonism, fauvism and a very personal form of Byzantine revivalism. As he got older he continued to soak up influences that came to him from younger artists, and yet, a Klimt is unmistakably a Klimt.


Gustav Klimt: The Dancer

 A highlight of my visit yesterday was “The Dancer”, painted in the last few months of his life in 1918. The image above doesn't do the original justice. As with most of his portraits, she is looking to the right. She is stiff, like in an ancient Egyptian or Minoan relief. The tyranny of perspective that had dominated western art since the Renaissance has been defied and the surface is flattened. To her right, at shoulder level, we can see a number of oriental figures, Korean or Chinese. Her right hand is raised in a symbolic gesture and flowers burst across the upper corner of the painting in an explosion of colour. The round table with flowers to her lower right and the rug with the zig-zag design have just wandered in from a Matisse painting. Her dress is heavy, like a kimono, and decorated with colourful, geometric forms. Aren’t her shoes simply wonderful?

Gustav Klimt: The Park

“The Park” is entirely different. A word of warning – if you travel to Basel for the exhibition, don’t step too close to “The Park” – you might find set off the alarm and find yourself in trouble. Obviously influenced by post-impressionism here, Klimt has avoided the temptation of using illusionist techniques in order to create perspective. Instead, splashes of paint are piled on splashes of paint rising to the top of the painting (and beyond) to create a real density. Amazingly, the canopy of trees cover almost the entire canvas, with just a tiny sliver in the bottom left which provides the vital open space. It is one of the most unusual pictures I know.



Gustav Klimt: Attersee

“Attersee” is a mesmerizing painting. Again, the surface is knowingly flat, your eyes are led to gradually look upward to meet a vague silhouette of mountains on the left while on the right an out of focus island comes into view – has Klimt been influenced by photography here? (I only ask because most of my photos appear out of focus.) But it is the water that holds one’s attention, and the play of light on its surface. It dominates the bulk of the canvas, becoming almost an entirely abstract painting.
The exhibition runs until January 16th 2011. There is a lot more to enjoy besides the paintings I have discussed. These are simply three of my favourite things.

To watch a documentary on this exhibition, including an interview with the chief curator,click here.