the Wiener Werkstätte: Carl Otto Czeschka

Carl Otto Czeschka

Illustrations for Friedrich Hebbel's theatrical piece Die Nibelungen (unrealised)

circa 1920

     Que c'est un coup d'état raffiné! Such an elegant and confident charge against a déluge of arrows is certainly an act of heroism. The horses' legs are rearing in sync, the heraldic spears are being lowered in defence and the soldiers' heads are bent with determination - what controlled force! But what this set of drawings depicts is not reality. It is rather an artificial scene meant for the confinement of a stage, and for the appreciation of an audience enjoying the comforts of the theatre's accommodation. Though does this make the heroic feat any less interesting?

     Whether on paper or on stage, the two organised assemblages of knights, horses, weapons and shields form very pleasing figurative vignettes. Why is this? Because Czeschka knew how to attract attention by using simple but effective elements of graphic design. Consider how the linear treatments of the flagged diagonal spears and of the horses' tensed hind legs connect to create one continuous white formation set against a rich blue background, stretching from the lower right-hand corner to the top left. Not only does this divide each composition into triangular halves, but - with the help of the two contrasting colour planes - it also forms a visual 'barricade' against the army of arrows which pours in from the left at an angry horizontal angle. And with the additional geometric patterns adorning the props and characters this scene comes into perspective as a large grid - one that, if seen live, would remain so for less than a second.

the Wiener Werkstätte: Dagobert Peche

Dagobert Peche

Ivory Handbell (made by [company] Nerold)

circa 1920

     More than a small chime issues from this bell when it is given a shake: from those delicate legs of the horse and the thrashing leaves of the plants, and from the rider's arched, strained back, comes a call of the jungle. The wildlife pours itself into the restricted framework. The horse's tail and ears stand erect with obedience and its dainty hooves prod the ground, cautiously. Human, beast and forest become one - how many legs does the horse have?

     The shape is beautiful. It seems so fragile, almost too fragile, that Peche must not have intended it for daily use. But consider its stencil-carved body like a half-formed bubble: one that was preciously blown bigger and bigger breath by breath, and then magically frozen the moment before it burst. This handbell was at least intended for a lifetime of admiration. The apparent weightiness of its finial bearing down on its bubble-skirt is a work of rare craftsmanship; any moment it seems that it could fall through the canopy like an unwelcomed metiorite, destructing in its course the sound of both bell and jungle forever. This is a work of art that fools the mind, making it a trompe l'œil in its own right.

     So, is this a call from Imperial India? Or has Mowgli simply grown up?

Henri Matisse

Henri Matisse

Intérieur au Rideau égyptien

circa 1948

     How strange that such a strong shadow is cast by the fruit bowl, but that the single Fuyu fruit, or Persimmon, outside of the bowl casts none. Could it be transparent or floating, or just in mid-fall?

     Notice that the fruits' light orange skins match the colour of the table's edge, while the blackness of the back wall is repeated in the bowl's oval shadow. Also notice that the leaves of the palm tree are mirrored in the swollen synthetic petals of the Eygptian fabric, simply because they share the same green pigment; and that the majority of the tree's yellow branches cascade in the direction of the fruit bowl, and then towards the five large yellow dots at the base of the curtain, helping the eye to run a smooth course between the outdoor and the indoor scenes. These details show that colour acts as a strong tie between these animate and inanimate objects, enabling the composition to hold a unity within itself.

     But theory aside, this picture at least illustrates the language of colour. It gives the scene a voice; we sense the interior's warmth from the deep reds, the yellows and the pinks, and we almost taste the orange flesh of the Persimmons, sweet and plump. Outside, the blue sky and the twitching threads of green leaves seem cold and uncomfortable. The foliage is spikey and thin; the sky, clear and empty. Which set of colours sends a better invitation: that from the outside or that from the inside?