As a student of sculpture, Musée Rodin was an excellent experience. I am not interested in figural sculpture in my own work, but there were many elements of Rodin’s pieces which made me consider essential goals of sculpture. Before this trip, I had never spent much time thinking about the qualities of marble, and experience Rodin first hand has established a great appreciation for the material. The first work which really peaked my interest was in the special exhibit, “The Convalescent.” The work was carved of marble, and upon approach, seemed to simply be boulder, but upon closer inspection, a head and folded hands become visible. The figure seems to be growing from the stone, but is still very much trapped within.
As I previously stated, I have never been very familiar with the material of marble, but I always assumed it to have a clean, milky appearance similar to plaster. But marble has a luminance that could never exist with an opaque material like plaster. “The Convalescent” was a wonderful example of the versatility of marble. According to my memory, traditionally, a marble sculpture, especially a figure, has a highly polished surface with some texture to differentiate between fabric, hair, etc. Rodin’s work, on the other hand, taught me that marble can be ugly, too. “The Convalescent” was not his only marble boulder with figures “growing” from them, there were a few others in the room. In fact, may of the full figures had some sort of “raw” marble present. I really appreciated this material use. “The Convalescent” also seemed to float on the pedestal, due to the presence of a heavy shadow jutting from under. This sense of floating did not make the work appear lighter, however. The work still had a great sense of weight and density.
Something which really struck me in the marble works was the contours and faces created by removal of material. I wish I had been able to take pictures in the space, because some were very complex, and I don’t think my drawings quite did them justice. This removal of material was important to note in may works, as well as the contours of bodies. Rodin really works with weight and movement of bodies, and often defies what we believe to be possible.
In my journal I listed a few things the work seemed to “tell” me :
- “Marble can be ugly, or very rough, too” or
- “Marble can be beautiful even without a perfect surface”
- “Marble can be the subject of a sculpture”
- “Marble can be the subject of a portrait”
- “Gravity can be the subject of a portrait, even when gravity is always a subject in sculpture.”
However, the work I chose to spend a little more time with was in fact two works : a model vs. the final marble.
The work was located in a room in the upstairs of Rodin’s home. I was looking at a few Van Gogh paintings and turned around only to see a startling amalgamation of materials directly across the room.
This work was a model made of terra cotta, plaster, ceramic, and paper-maché. The sculpture was of a “sleeping” woman, but when created through this variety of materials, the sleep seemed more like finite one. The pallor of facial flesh was so opaque, it seemed stiff and dry like an egyptian mummy. It was almost disturbing to look at, the way the materials were pressed together an crudely depicting a figure. It took me several moments to realize the final marble version of this model was located directly next to it. I couldn’t believe the two objects were describing the same figure. The marble object was luminous and angelic, a drastic contrast to the crude model. Both have a sense of mortality, but in completely different ways. The model, a post-mortal figure, and the marble, a heavenly depiction of the figure.
Process is drastically different between the two works. The model was created through a very hands-on process of pressing material together, while the marble was carved and polished using tools. The model suggests aspects of transience, while the marble feels very finite, which is appropriate considering their purposes. As well as the weight suggested by both objects. The massive bottom portion makes the marble work’s placement definite, and does not in anyway suggest movement, but the model appears much lighter, as layers of paper are visible beneath, suggesting a hollow form. The objects are roughly life sized, and are about as tall as the lengthen between the tips of my fingers and my elbows.
The placement of the works, and the objects they sat on were different, which was interesting to me. The model was on a traditional white pedestal, and enclosed in a vitrine. I imagine this is due to the materials used and their temporary quality. The marble, on the other had sat on a wooden stool used for a few other marble works in the room.
The treatment of the surface was integral to the work, as in the model, a great variety of surface textures are created by the different materials and gestural application process, while the marble used more linear mark-making to designate a variety of textures.
While sitting and reflecting on the work, I noticed the paths created by foot traffic in the texture of the floor. My path through the room moved in a circle, clockwise through the room to finally land at the model. My specific movement through the space can be see in the images in my journal.
There is a path heavily tread between the works by Van Gogh and the model. When I realized this, I felt like this placement was a very intentional decision by the curators. The model looked like nothing else in the museum, and was a huge surprise to stumble upon especially after viewing a few Van Gogh paintings. I have a feeling the curator would expect viewers to be attracted to the Van Gogh paintings, and upon turning around, there the model would be.
The pedestal felt intentional in this way to grab the attention of viewers in the room, as if to say "This is interesting! Come see this!"
Comparing these works gave me quite a lot of insight in to Rodin's process, and was extremely surprising to see such gestural marks in terra cotta inform a material like marble.
Journal Pages :
- Amy Trompeter
She beckons you from her corner atop her pedestal; the flirtation curve of her body is hardly longer than a foot. The tilt of her head could be curious or knowing. She is as sprite-like in her demeanor as she is in her stature—certainly not the typical impression one has when one thinks of the Sphinx.
This little model at the Rodin Museum seems typical in his approach—feminine forms titled with names of mythical creatures—the titles are used to suggest and inform the viewer of a possible quality of the figure, rather than depicting the figure as the mythic beast in question so that the form overpowers the read. Rodin played with perceptions of the figure, especially that of the feminine, often imbuing figures, which might as well have functioned as portraits, with symbolic qualities and genderswapping from creature to creature. All things considered it’s hard to say whether he had much of a positive consideration for the feminine form, but her certainly paid it a great deal of attention. 
I was quite taken with the curious depiction of the fabled Sphinx (no parts of her seeming beastly), so it was especially curious when I came across several other surprising depictions of the infamous creature while at the musée d’Orsay in the special exhibit "The Angel of the Odd: Dark Romanticism from Goya to Max Ernst". Another model version of a larger piece, Christian Behrens’s Sphinx sets a whole other tone for the beast in question. Instead of sculpting a lone figure, Behrens’s sculpture depicts a charged scene between Oedipus and the Sphinx locked in a brutal, unforgiving kiss.
.jpg)
.jpg)
