Czech Avant-Garde | Gitterman Gallery
František Drtikol. Composition, 1931.
Written by Max Wiener
The mainstream media machine can sometimes distract us from the beauty that lies below the surface. In this capitalistic world, it’s always “what we should have based on what others think,” leaving little room to form our own conscious opinions. Who knows what we could be missing? What lies below the horizon of the one-size-fits-all society we live in? These same questions can be asked about art, and at the Gitterman Gallery, we are presented with quite a selection that makes us question the true depth and ability of the photographic lens.
František Drtikol, Untitled, c. 1923–29
František Drtikol and Josef Sudek, two Czech avant-garde photographers, have their works paired together for this stunning exhibition, aptly entitled Czech Avant-Garde. Here, the lights and glamor of fame and fortune are replaced for true authenticity, showcasing talent and artisanry like few photography exhibitions do. Drtikol and Sudek are to be studied as true pioneers, and this series proves that their work belongs in the pantheon of the twentieth century’s photography palette. Czech Avant-Garde opened on November 14th and has a scheduled closing date of December 22nd.
František Drtikol, Soul, 1930
The first glance at Czech Avant-Garde shows not just a lack of color, but a lack of light; both figures exist in the darkness. Their works take place in dystopian futures, almost as if their images were penned in Lois Lowry or George Orwell’s novels. Their beiges pop like pinks and purples, grabbing our attention instantly. Was this natural light that was obscured? Drtikol’s work in particular depicts light as a living, breathing entity, a soul escaping from the shadows of its mortal self. Soul is a particularly stunning image that correlates with this theory; it is one of the series’ most captivating works. The shadowy figure represents a living being, while the light escaping from it acts as the soul of both the figure and the piece itself. Its contortion begs us to question its ability to escape and suggests that the lack of light is an intentional decision made by Drtikol.
Josef Sudek, On the Windowsill of My Studio, 1944
Sudek’s work is brighter by some degree, but his work has more elements of realism than the former. There is more of a real-world feel throughout his work: windowsills, fruits, raindrops, etc. With his camera, he places us directly within his world; nothing is staged. Sudek’s work, however, keeps us physically inside, and like Drtikol we feel slightly trapped throughout. We want to explore more and find the answers to our questions, and each image has us coming up with our own conclusions. This does not take anything away from the artists or their work, in fact it enhances the feel of the entire series. Their ability to reveal small pieces of information only adds to their mastery, and each photograph is a masterclass. Because of them, we question the realities of other perhaps more well-known artists, and the very perceptions of art and photography as we know it are thwarted. How’s that for avant-garde?
