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Anonymous (20th Century) by Leonardo Ricci; Elisabeth Mann BorgeseReview by: George B. TatumArt Journal, Vol. 22, No. 4 (Summer, 1963), p. 266Published by: College Art AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/774555 .
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become "art collectors" is too broad a gen- eralization. Also her statement that "they won't make what they don't like," does not exactly represent the facts, since by demand they do make billikens and paperknives, not of their own choice.
From the individual study of personalities made by the writer some check list of artists with distinguishing characteristics would have been expected for the specialized collector and it would have done much to have enhanced the stature of the artists who have given us this fine craft work.
Besides the wealth of detail Mrs. Ray has given in context throughout the many chap- ters, she has provided a stimulating and pro- vocative interpretation of the motives, ideas, and etiology behind the actual objects created.
A good series of photographic illustrations adds much to the meaning of the text, and a good index and bibliography are provided.
ROBERT A. ELDER, JR. United States National Museum
Leonardo Ricci Anonymous (20th Century), tr. Elisabeth Mann Borgese, 254 pp. New York: George Braziller, 1962. $5.00.
Sometime visiting lecturer at M.I.T. (1959- 1960) and currently professor at the Uni- versity of Florence, the author of this small volume with the provocative title describes himself as an architect who "must write," if for no other reason than because "his own means of expression-those of an architect, of a painter-are insufficient for him at this particular moment in history."
However debatable the practice of artists abandoning their customary visual media in favor of a literary one, those who understand- ably admire such architectural achievements as the Flower Market at Pescia (Casabella, Jan.-Feb., 1956) or the group of houses to the north of Florence on the slope of Mon- terinaldi (l'architecture d'aujourd'hui, No. 86, 1959), will doubtless consider that any thoughts of their designer, however random, are worthy of publication. Others, however, may wish to ask if Ricci the philosopher con- tributes new concepts or offers old ones in perhaps a new light. With some reservation for a number of passages that are sufficiently disconnected or ambiguous that they could mean much or nothing, the answer to this question would appear to be that he does not.
One reviewer, quoted at some length by the publisher, refers to Ricci's views as "an apolitical vision designed to inspire the reader." That the author finds life "logical" may no doubt be regarded as encouraging. Less reassuring is the fact that this optimistic view seems based on little besides a sense of ordered well being, inspired in large part by a variety of healthy physical sensations: the warmth of the sun (p. 38), coffee in bed (p. 32), sleeping with a woman (pp. 17, 18, 19, 27), to name a few. Most of his readers will almost certainly agree with Ricci concern- ing the attractiveness of these pleasures and a variety of others like them, but it may be doubted if, in themselves, they provide an
become "art collectors" is too broad a gen- eralization. Also her statement that "they won't make what they don't like," does not exactly represent the facts, since by demand they do make billikens and paperknives, not of their own choice.
From the individual study of personalities made by the writer some check list of artists with distinguishing characteristics would have been expected for the specialized collector and it would have done much to have enhanced the stature of the artists who have given us this fine craft work.
Besides the wealth of detail Mrs. Ray has given in context throughout the many chap- ters, she has provided a stimulating and pro- vocative interpretation of the motives, ideas, and etiology behind the actual objects created.
A good series of photographic illustrations adds much to the meaning of the text, and a good index and bibliography are provided.
ROBERT A. ELDER, JR. United States National Museum
Leonardo Ricci Anonymous (20th Century), tr. Elisabeth Mann Borgese, 254 pp. New York: George Braziller, 1962. $5.00.
Sometime visiting lecturer at M.I.T. (1959- 1960) and currently professor at the Uni- versity of Florence, the author of this small volume with the provocative title describes himself as an architect who "must write," if for no other reason than because "his own means of expression-those of an architect, of a painter-are insufficient for him at this particular moment in history."
However debatable the practice of artists abandoning their customary visual media in favor of a literary one, those who understand- ably admire such architectural achievements as the Flower Market at Pescia (Casabella, Jan.-Feb., 1956) or the group of houses to the north of Florence on the slope of Mon- terinaldi (l'architecture d'aujourd'hui, No. 86, 1959), will doubtless consider that any thoughts of their designer, however random, are worthy of publication. Others, however, may wish to ask if Ricci the philosopher con- tributes new concepts or offers old ones in perhaps a new light. With some reservation for a number of passages that are sufficiently disconnected or ambiguous that they could mean much or nothing, the answer to this question would appear to be that he does not.
One reviewer, quoted at some length by the publisher, refers to Ricci's views as "an apolitical vision designed to inspire the reader." That the author finds life "logical" may no doubt be regarded as encouraging. Less reassuring is the fact that this optimistic view seems based on little besides a sense of ordered well being, inspired in large part by a variety of healthy physical sensations: the warmth of the sun (p. 38), coffee in bed (p. 32), sleeping with a woman (pp. 17, 18, 19, 27), to name a few. Most of his readers will almost certainly agree with Ricci concern- ing the attractiveness of these pleasures and a variety of others like them, but it may be doubted if, in themselves, they provide an
become "art collectors" is too broad a gen- eralization. Also her statement that "they won't make what they don't like," does not exactly represent the facts, since by demand they do make billikens and paperknives, not of their own choice.
From the individual study of personalities made by the writer some check list of artists with distinguishing characteristics would have been expected for the specialized collector and it would have done much to have enhanced the stature of the artists who have given us this fine craft work.
Besides the wealth of detail Mrs. Ray has given in context throughout the many chap- ters, she has provided a stimulating and pro- vocative interpretation of the motives, ideas, and etiology behind the actual objects created.
A good series of photographic illustrations adds much to the meaning of the text, and a good index and bibliography are provided.
ROBERT A. ELDER, JR. United States National Museum
Leonardo Ricci Anonymous (20th Century), tr. Elisabeth Mann Borgese, 254 pp. New York: George Braziller, 1962. $5.00.
Sometime visiting lecturer at M.I.T. (1959- 1960) and currently professor at the Uni- versity of Florence, the author of this small volume with the provocative title describes himself as an architect who "must write," if for no other reason than because "his own means of expression-those of an architect, of a painter-are insufficient for him at this particular moment in history."
However debatable the practice of artists abandoning their customary visual media in favor of a literary one, those who understand- ably admire such architectural achievements as the Flower Market at Pescia (Casabella, Jan.-Feb., 1956) or the group of houses to the north of Florence on the slope of Mon- terinaldi (l'architecture d'aujourd'hui, No. 86, 1959), will doubtless consider that any thoughts of their designer, however random, are worthy of publication. Others, however, may wish to ask if Ricci the philosopher con- tributes new concepts or offers old ones in perhaps a new light. With some reservation for a number of passages that are sufficiently disconnected or ambiguous that they could mean much or nothing, the answer to this question would appear to be that he does not.
One reviewer, quoted at some length by the publisher, refers to Ricci's views as "an apolitical vision designed to inspire the reader." That the author finds life "logical" may no doubt be regarded as encouraging. Less reassuring is the fact that this optimistic view seems based on little besides a sense of ordered well being, inspired in large part by a variety of healthy physical sensations: the warmth of the sun (p. 38), coffee in bed (p. 32), sleeping with a woman (pp. 17, 18, 19, 27), to name a few. Most of his readers will almost certainly agree with Ricci concern- ing the attractiveness of these pleasures and a variety of others like them, but it may be doubted if, in themselves, they provide an adequate basis for a comprehensive philosophy adequate basis for a comprehensive philosophy adequate basis for a comprehensive philosophy
of life. Be that as it may, their merit has been praised in poem and story for centuries, and not infrequently with somewhat greater elo- quence and perception.
Concerning the enigmatic title of his book, author Ricci has this to say: "It's really a beautiful title. I'm crazy about it. But what does it mean? It means that, at this particular moment of history, man is in a fix. In a bad fix. And if he goes on this way, he is going to get clobbered. The only way out of this blind alley is to become 'Anonymous (20th Century)'." Although he never describes in detail this "fix" in which modern man is be- lieved to find himself, Ricci nevertheless con- siders that he has "a certain key which will open a new way out" (p. 31). And a few pages further (p. 40) he obligingly sums up his conclusions on this point: "Man's problems are not metaphysical. They are simple, ele- mentary, natural. What it comes down to is that you have to make good use of yourself after having got well integrated in this world." Sounds easy, once you get the hang of it.
As a practicing architect, Ricci has appar- ently had his troubles with "paper regulatory plans" and the "urbanism of the bureaucrats" (p. 175). Since he is not alone in this, his plea for a more humanistic and less technical approach to urban planning will surely strike a responsive note in many readers. And even those of us who are not connected directly with the professions involved can easily agree with the author that the prevailing concept of schools, hospitals, and communities leaves am- ple room for improvement. But it is one thing to criticize the present order and quite an- other to devise a better one. As if to recognize this fact, Ricci is careful not to permit him- self to become too specific. He includes no drawings of his "Earth-City"; had he done so, one suspects from a consideration of his few concrete proposals (e.g. mobile operating rooms to be taken to the patient's house) that his solutions would find no more acceptance with his contemporaries than theirs have with him.
The author of Anonymous (20th Century) gives every evidence of being well and widely read, and it is therefore the more amazing that his study of the past has provided him with so little historical perspective. Does he really suppose that ours is the first generation to ask questions concerning the meaning of life, or that the plight of mankind today is necessarily more desperate than on many other occasions in the past? Throughout his book Ricci has some hard words for "the obsolete values of [our] slave society" and especially for those who still find solace in their belief in "myths." Yet after reading with some care what he has written on this subject, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that (to para- phrase Muratoff) the author has himself been blinded to the reality of myth by his own ac- ceptance of the myth of reality. Although not without occasional perceptive insights, this highly personal record of one man's dissatis- faction with his profession and his time does little to disprove the belief that architects are well advised to make their contribution to society through the medium of their buildings, leaving wordy disquisitions on art and life
of life. Be that as it may, their merit has been praised in poem and story for centuries, and not infrequently with somewhat greater elo- quence and perception.
Concerning the enigmatic title of his book, author Ricci has this to say: "It's really a beautiful title. I'm crazy about it. But what does it mean? It means that, at this particular moment of history, man is in a fix. In a bad fix. And if he goes on this way, he is going to get clobbered. The only way out of this blind alley is to become 'Anonymous (20th Century)'." Although he never describes in detail this "fix" in which modern man is be- lieved to find himself, Ricci nevertheless con- siders that he has "a certain key which will open a new way out" (p. 31). And a few pages further (p. 40) he obligingly sums up his conclusions on this point: "Man's problems are not metaphysical. They are simple, ele- mentary, natural. What it comes down to is that you have to make good use of yourself after having got well integrated in this world." Sounds easy, once you get the hang of it.
As a practicing architect, Ricci has appar- ently had his troubles with "paper regulatory plans" and the "urbanism of the bureaucrats" (p. 175). Since he is not alone in this, his plea for a more humanistic and less technical approach to urban planning will surely strike a responsive note in many readers. And even those of us who are not connected directly with the professions involved can easily agree with the author that the prevailing concept of schools, hospitals, and communities leaves am- ple room for improvement. But it is one thing to criticize the present order and quite an- other to devise a better one. As if to recognize this fact, Ricci is careful not to permit him- self to become too specific. He includes no drawings of his "Earth-City"; had he done so, one suspects from a consideration of his few concrete proposals (e.g. mobile operating rooms to be taken to the patient's house) that his solutions would find no more acceptance with his contemporaries than theirs have with him.
The author of Anonymous (20th Century) gives every evidence of being well and widely read, and it is therefore the more amazing that his study of the past has provided him with so little historical perspective. Does he really suppose that ours is the first generation to ask questions concerning the meaning of life, or that the plight of mankind today is necessarily more desperate than on many other occasions in the past? Throughout his book Ricci has some hard words for "the obsolete values of [our] slave society" and especially for those who still find solace in their belief in "myths." Yet after reading with some care what he has written on this subject, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that (to para- phrase Muratoff) the author has himself been blinded to the reality of myth by his own ac- ceptance of the myth of reality. Although not without occasional perceptive insights, this highly personal record of one man's dissatis- faction with his profession and his time does little to disprove the belief that architects are well advised to make their contribution to society through the medium of their buildings, leaving wordy disquisitions on art and life
of life. Be that as it may, their merit has been praised in poem and story for centuries, and not infrequently with somewhat greater elo- quence and perception.
Concerning the enigmatic title of his book, author Ricci has this to say: "It's really a beautiful title. I'm crazy about it. But what does it mean? It means that, at this particular moment of history, man is in a fix. In a bad fix. And if he goes on this way, he is going to get clobbered. The only way out of this blind alley is to become 'Anonymous (20th Century)'." Although he never describes in detail this "fix" in which modern man is be- lieved to find himself, Ricci nevertheless con- siders that he has "a certain key which will open a new way out" (p. 31). And a few pages further (p. 40) he obligingly sums up his conclusions on this point: "Man's problems are not metaphysical. They are simple, ele- mentary, natural. What it comes down to is that you have to make good use of yourself after having got well integrated in this world." Sounds easy, once you get the hang of it.
As a practicing architect, Ricci has appar- ently had his troubles with "paper regulatory plans" and the "urbanism of the bureaucrats" (p. 175). Since he is not alone in this, his plea for a more humanistic and less technical approach to urban planning will surely strike a responsive note in many readers. And even those of us who are not connected directly with the professions involved can easily agree with the author that the prevailing concept of schools, hospitals, and communities leaves am- ple room for improvement. But it is one thing to criticize the present order and quite an- other to devise a better one. As if to recognize this fact, Ricci is careful not to permit him- self to become too specific. He includes no drawings of his "Earth-City"; had he done so, one suspects from a consideration of his few concrete proposals (e.g. mobile operating rooms to be taken to the patient's house) that his solutions would find no more acceptance with his contemporaries than theirs have with him.
The author of Anonymous (20th Century) gives every evidence of being well and widely read, and it is therefore the more amazing that his study of the past has provided him with so little historical perspective. Does he really suppose that ours is the first generation to ask questions concerning the meaning of life, or that the plight of mankind today is necessarily more desperate than on many other occasions in the past? Throughout his book Ricci has some hard words for "the obsolete values of [our] slave society" and especially for those who still find solace in their belief in "myths." Yet after reading with some care what he has written on this subject, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that (to para- phrase Muratoff) the author has himself been blinded to the reality of myth by his own ac- ceptance of the myth of reality. Although not without occasional perceptive insights, this highly personal record of one man's dissatis- faction with his profession and his time does little to disprove the belief that architects are well advised to make their contribution to society through the medium of their buildings, leaving wordy disquisitions on art and life to philosophers and the kind of tiresome critic to philosophers and the kind of tiresome critic to philosophers and the kind of tiresome critic
and historian who writes reviews for profes- sional journals.
GEORGE B. TATUM
University of Pennsylvania
Peter Selz
The Work of Jean Dubuffet, 187 pp., 125 ill. (21 in color).
New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1962. $3.75 paper, $7.50 hardbound.
Peter Selz's handsomely illustrated book and exhibition catalogue includes an admirably lucid, succinct account of the artist's work and life, lengthy statements by Dubuffet himself, and the authoritative compilation of biblio- graphical material which we have come to expect, and rely upon, in Museum of Modern Art publications. Summary and stripped though it is, Mr. Selz's essay leaves an impression of richness and completeness. He places the artist in the modern tradition of primitivism, but makes clear how unstereotyped and meaning- ful to contemporary sensibility Dubuffet's ap- parently artless and non-professional attitudes can be. The direct relationship of his work to art brut, both to the inspired freedom and compulsions of psychotic and untutored art, which the artist collects assiduously, sets Du- buffet apart from the more literary world of Paul Klee, to whom his poetic debt is acknowl- edged. Although Selz makes less of this point, Dubuffet's formalism-the way his aggregate images coalesce in a unified whole, expand laterally and put the picture rectangle under pressure-contributes equally to his contem- porary authenticity.
In his best-known statement, Dubuffet in- vites the spectator to view his work as "an enterprise for the rehabilitation of scorned values," thus giving moral sanction to the widespread practice today of incorporating ac- tual fragments or facsimiles of discarded arti- facts and foreign materials in the work of art. In his own case, this leads, at various periods in his career, to invoking the technique of as- semblage, but it also refers to the redemption by art of the crude, vital and often obscene visual language of the lavatory wall and side- walk. Such shocking and aggressive reminders of the collective id in Dubuffet's work are a logical extension of the romantic impulse that opposes art and acquired culture, and identi- fies authentic feeling with the savage, the mystic, the child and the unsophisticated adult. Dubuffet's primitivism stakes everything on the concrete, on immediate sensation. His mat- ter-of-factness-which means letting disagree- able textures and crude grafitti stand-sepa- rates him from the pantheistic yearning and abstract sublimations of Klee and Kandinsky with whom he shares another romantic char- acteristic, "the sense and taste for the infinite." In the period of his "topographies" and "tex- turologies," Dubuffet's decentralized composi- tions of uniformly accented fields which look like relief maps, invested gross matter with magically expansive powers, creating a strangely compelling supra- or sub-human world. Yet he remained, and continues to be, a hard-headed materialist. The poetic bond of solidarity he feels with organic and inorganic
and historian who writes reviews for profes- sional journals.
GEORGE B. TATUM
University of Pennsylvania
Peter Selz
The Work of Jean Dubuffet, 187 pp., 125 ill. (21 in color).
New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1962. $3.75 paper, $7.50 hardbound.
Peter Selz's handsomely illustrated book and exhibition catalogue includes an admirably lucid, succinct account of the artist's work and life, lengthy statements by Dubuffet himself, and the authoritative compilation of biblio- graphical material which we have come to expect, and rely upon, in Museum of Modern Art publications. Summary and stripped though it is, Mr. Selz's essay leaves an impression of richness and completeness. He places the artist in the modern tradition of primitivism, but makes clear how unstereotyped and meaning- ful to contemporary sensibility Dubuffet's ap- parently artless and non-professional attitudes can be. The direct relationship of his work to art brut, both to the inspired freedom and compulsions of psychotic and untutored art, which the artist collects assiduously, sets Du- buffet apart from the more literary world of Paul Klee, to whom his poetic debt is acknowl- edged. Although Selz makes less of this point, Dubuffet's formalism-the way his aggregate images coalesce in a unified whole, expand laterally and put the picture rectangle under pressure-contributes equally to his contem- porary authenticity.
In his best-known statement, Dubuffet in- vites the spectator to view his work as "an enterprise for the rehabilitation of scorned values," thus giving moral sanction to the widespread practice today of incorporating ac- tual fragments or facsimiles of discarded arti- facts and foreign materials in the work of art. In his own case, this leads, at various periods in his career, to invoking the technique of as- semblage, but it also refers to the redemption by art of the crude, vital and often obscene visual language of the lavatory wall and side- walk. Such shocking and aggressive reminders of the collective id in Dubuffet's work are a logical extension of the romantic impulse that opposes art and acquired culture, and identi- fies authentic feeling with the savage, the mystic, the child and the unsophisticated adult. Dubuffet's primitivism stakes everything on the concrete, on immediate sensation. His mat- ter-of-factness-which means letting disagree- able textures and crude grafitti stand-sepa- rates him from the pantheistic yearning and abstract sublimations of Klee and Kandinsky with whom he shares another romantic char- acteristic, "the sense and taste for the infinite." In the period of his "topographies" and "tex- turologies," Dubuffet's decentralized composi- tions of uniformly accented fields which look like relief maps, invested gross matter with magically expansive powers, creating a strangely compelling supra- or sub-human world. Yet he remained, and continues to be, a hard-headed materialist. The poetic bond of solidarity he feels with organic and inorganic
and historian who writes reviews for profes- sional journals.
GEORGE B. TATUM
University of Pennsylvania
Peter Selz
The Work of Jean Dubuffet, 187 pp., 125 ill. (21 in color).
New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1962. $3.75 paper, $7.50 hardbound.
Peter Selz's handsomely illustrated book and exhibition catalogue includes an admirably lucid, succinct account of the artist's work and life, lengthy statements by Dubuffet himself, and the authoritative compilation of biblio- graphical material which we have come to expect, and rely upon, in Museum of Modern Art publications. Summary and stripped though it is, Mr. Selz's essay leaves an impression of richness and completeness. He places the artist in the modern tradition of primitivism, but makes clear how unstereotyped and meaning- ful to contemporary sensibility Dubuffet's ap- parently artless and non-professional attitudes can be. The direct relationship of his work to art brut, both to the inspired freedom and compulsions of psychotic and untutored art, which the artist collects assiduously, sets Du- buffet apart from the more literary world of Paul Klee, to whom his poetic debt is acknowl- edged. Although Selz makes less of this point, Dubuffet's formalism-the way his aggregate images coalesce in a unified whole, expand laterally and put the picture rectangle under pressure-contributes equally to his contem- porary authenticity.
In his best-known statement, Dubuffet in- vites the spectator to view his work as "an enterprise for the rehabilitation of scorned values," thus giving moral sanction to the widespread practice today of incorporating ac- tual fragments or facsimiles of discarded arti- facts and foreign materials in the work of art. In his own case, this leads, at various periods in his career, to invoking the technique of as- semblage, but it also refers to the redemption by art of the crude, vital and often obscene visual language of the lavatory wall and side- walk. Such shocking and aggressive reminders of the collective id in Dubuffet's work are a logical extension of the romantic impulse that opposes art and acquired culture, and identi- fies authentic feeling with the savage, the mystic, the child and the unsophisticated adult. Dubuffet's primitivism stakes everything on the concrete, on immediate sensation. His mat- ter-of-factness-which means letting disagree- able textures and crude grafitti stand-sepa- rates him from the pantheistic yearning and abstract sublimations of Klee and Kandinsky with whom he shares another romantic char- acteristic, "the sense and taste for the infinite." In the period of his "topographies" and "tex- turologies," Dubuffet's decentralized composi- tions of uniformly accented fields which look like relief maps, invested gross matter with magically expansive powers, creating a strangely compelling supra- or sub-human world. Yet he remained, and continues to be, a hard-headed materialist. The poetic bond of solidarity he feels with organic and inorganic nature never violates his cooly realistic, micro- nature never violates his cooly realistic, micro- nature never violates his cooly realistic, micro-
ART JOURNAL XXII 4 266 ART JOURNAL XXII 4 266 ART JOURNAL XXII 4 266
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