"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"*

Have you seen the four straps hanging over Vance Kirkland's work table? Have you heard that he spent many hours a day suspended in those straps? Have you tried to imagine what that must have been like for him to float above a work in progress, sliding the canvas back and forth below on four rustic skateboards?

Kirkland saw musical explosions and vibrations, mysteries and forces, rhythmic and discordant, in his imagined galaxies and had the artist's drive to capture these visions in pigment on canvas. He mixed the unmixables—oil and water. Zealous in his conviction that the responsibility of an artist is to show people something they had never seen, he tried to send the colors "where no man had gone before", into brilliant spaces beyond the visible sky.




The techniques he developed required his canvas to be laid flat on a table top so that he, and not gravity, could control the flow of the paint. He poured and spooned the mixtures from baby-food jars and moved them with rags, mopping up the water when it had deposited the paint just where he wanted it. He placed each peaked dot with a wooden dowel, dipped once in color and dabbed two, maybe three times before it required a refill.



Once he made the first small paintings, the first small worlds, it was only a matter of time before he cut the replaceable notch in his studio doorway to accommodate ever larger canvases, ever larger creations. The 5'2" visionary adventurer wanted to make paintings larger than himself, paintings that demanded a heroic reach.



His arms were too short, his aging back too vulnerable. So he and a friend devised a system of four straps to suspend him above his work. They bought the 3-inch green cotton webbing at an army surplus store. Imagine how long it took them to work out the details, the number of straps, the length of each, and the distance between them. There must have been a lot of trial and error to get them positioned so that he could climb in and then forget them. In these straps, he could defy gravity. He could lose himself in the weightless work of bringing a universe into being.



Sadly for us, Kirkland was never photographed at work in his straps. His assistants staged and photographed a recreation of the scene using fresher and narrower nylon slings to help us imagine the artist at work. Everyone who sees those now-empty straps must wonder, if just for a second, what it feels like to fly with a paint-loaded brush or dowel in their hand.

I never met Vance Kirkland, but I work in his space, always surrounded and enriched by the cosmos he created. Recently, at the end of a long day, with only a few staff members left in the building and Vance's work table empty, I asked for the oft-fantasized favor and it was Granted (Hugh Grant-ed, that is—permission given by our founding director and curator). So, not for hours, but for a few moments, I flew in the straps of a genius – "Ah...", indeed!




* from the poem Andrea del Sarto by Robert Browning

Vance Kirkland As Collector

Visitors to Kirkland Museum are usually surprised by the depth and breadth of the collection. Many come expecting to see only the paintings of Vance Kirkland. In fact, the museum is dedicated to sharing with the public three important aspects of Kirkland′s life and career. In doing so, painting and sculpture by over 170 Colorado artists, and an impressively large collection of international decorative art is also displayed within the museum′s walls. It is believed to be the largest decorative art collection on display in North America.

In addition to being a visionary modernist painter, Vance was also a committed educator and an avid collector. He founded the current School of Art at the University of Denver in 1929, thereby touching the lives and affecting the work of many Colorado artists. He enjoyed a wide range of friendships within the artistic community inside and outside of Denver. He also began collecting the work of artists and designers he admired when he was a very young man. He′s been quoted as saying, “If I′m going to sit on it, eat off it, or drink out of it, it′s going to be great design.”





Here he is, at the age of 32, sitting by his lily pond at 817 Pearl St., Denver in his Art Deco style Machine Age Rocking Chair from the McKay Corporation (c.1930s). You can see the chair today in the museum′s Watercolor Room.



You may have heard that a young Vance Kirkland was the first college student to win a prize at the Cleveland Museum of Art May Show with his watercolor The Brewery, but have you heard what he did with the award money? It was 1927 and he was twenty-three years old. It may surprise you to know that he used his prize money to purchase the winning entry in the ceramics competition of the same show - four Russian Peasant Figures designed by Alexander Blazys and manufactured by the Cowan Pottery. Kirkland had studied ceramics with Blazys and Guy Cowan at the Cowan Pottery Company. The musicians are on display in the Lower Level Corridor.




In January of 1929, Vance hired Anne Gregory Van Briggle, widow of Artus van Briggle and former president of the Van Briggle Company, to teach Life Drawing at DU (just 11 months before her death in November of that year). It is likely that he acquired these two early Van Briggle Vases directly from Anne during that time. The small blue vase dates from 1902 and the brown one from 1904, the same year that Artus Van Briggle died from the tuberculosis which originally brought him to Colorado in search of a cure. Both vases can be seen in Exhibition Room I.


Vance purchased this fantastic hand-blown La Donna Vase (1950) from its designer, Fulvio Bianconi with whom he became acquainted during travels to Italy in the 1950s and ′60s. The artist was reluctant to part with this, as he was with many others of his premium pieces which he thought should be preserved in museums. Vance persevered until he agreed to sell it and, true to his philosophy of actually using the great design objects he collected, he kept the vase filled with flowers on his desk for many years. You can see it, complete with residual water stains, in the Museum Corridor.



As a result of hepatitis contracted during a surgery, Vance endured several hospitalizations during the last years of his life. During the registration process for his final hospital admission, he was asked to state his religious affiliation. With characteristic humor, he directed the clerk to write, “Drinking Buddhist.” This Cambodian Buddha (c.1850) was one of several from his home. It now presides over the Studio Corridor.


In future blogs, we′ll look more closely at Vance Kirkland as an artist and as an educator and art supporter.

Bouloum

Those who know say that Oliver Mourgue's "Bouloum" Chair, 1968, is very comfortable. It seems to have been Mourgue's own favorite of his furniture designs. Though his Djinn series of furniture was more popular, partly due to its appearance in 2001: A Space Odyssey, Mourgue was known to carry a Bouloum chair around the world with him. He was laughed at for taking one with him on planes. He made something of a hobby of documenting the chair's journey around the world by photographing it in various locations, including in front of cast iron architecture in New York City. Mourgue's philosophy is that life is full of chance encounters and incoherence, so why not have fantasy or poetry side by side with high technology - furthermore, he believes people invent while playing.



"Bouloum" comes from the nickname of Mourgue's childhood friend. The nonsensical nature of the name is fitting for this whimsical chair. The Bouloum chair is made in many colors, either in fiberglass or upholstered with a cover, as is our chair at Kirkland Museum. Originally produced by Airborne in France, it has been in continuous production through Arconas since their purchase of Airborne in 1972.

The Bouloum lounge chair is currently on view in the studio exhibition room.


Maya Wright
Marketing & Membership Coordinator

2008 Staff Favorites

We thought it might be fun to introduce ourselves and share with you our personal favorite acquisitions of 2008. We hope that all our visitors would want to come in and play this game of choosing favorite objects and become acquainted with more of our wide ranging art collection. Choose perhaps at least one decorative art piece and one painting or sculpture. Please let us know what you choose by writing one or more objects in our comment book or at our reception desk where you sign in. We will highlight visitor favorites in next year's December blog.

2008 has been a good year for Kirkland Museum. We have been joined by many new members and friends who enjoyed this very special place for the first time this year. We have welcomed visitors from many states and countries. We have been so fortunate in adding new paintings, sculptures and decorative art objects to our exciting collections.

The staff has much to be grateful for this year – for the wonderful artists whose work surrounds us every day, for the growing number of visitors at our door, for each other and for our wonderful director and curator, Hugh Grant. We wish to all of these and you, our best wishes for a wonderful art-filled holiday season and a peaceful, joyful art-filled new year.

Gerald Horner Administrative Manager	City Forms (1961) by Al Wynne "I love the strong structure and bold colors of this painting. So powerful and playful at the same time."
Maya Wright Marketing and Membership Coordinator	"My favorite new objects of 2008 are Tapio Wirkkala's Laminated Birch Plywood Platter (1951) and Nikke Chair (1958). I love the striped plywood and the delicate quality of these pieces. I imagine how lovely the tray would look filled with a few green apples. They just make my day brighter.I want to wish everyone happy holidays. I am so thankful for our enthusiastic visitors, members and volunteers!"
Chris Herron Registrar & Collections Manager	Ceres Prepares for Winter (1980s), by Edward Marecak "A beautifully executed, intriguing piece by probably my favorite painter in the collection. It's painted on a piece of ping-pong table and weighs about fifty pounds!"
Alisha Stovall Collections & Marketing Assistant	Coffee Set by Jutta Sika (1901–1902) "This is my favorite acquisition of 2008 because this set is an amazing and beautiful example of Wiener Werkstätte aesthetic, designed by one of many exceptional women artists that the Kirkland Museum showcases. Jutta Sika was amongst several prolific female Wiener Werkstätte designers during an era in which the importance and contribution of women artists were rarely recognized within artistic movements."
Mary Beth Orr Volunteer Program and Public Programs Coordinator	Tall Wrapped Abstract Blue Sculpture (1994) by Carroll Hansen – "I have long been a fan of Hansen's black–glazed geometric pieces. The fluidity of the shapes and the luscious blue color of this new abstract piece are very different and remind me of the sea, which I love and miss".
Holly Victor Marketing Director	"In 2005 we mounted our first temporary exhibition on the works of William Sanderson, a Colorado artist and colleague of Vance Kirkland. On the cover of the brochure was the painting "The Lovers" that we borrowed from a private collection. When we acquired the painting this year I was thrilled - both because I love the stylized treatment of this couple seated in a barren landscape, and because the painting reminds of that difficult, exciting and ultimately rewarding undertaking of our first special exhibition."
Katrina Boldry Visitor Services Coordinator	"I am fascinated by the addition of David Mazza's Procyon (2008) to our entryway because it was done specifically for the site. Kirkland Museum has several other Mazza sculptures including a large one in the back garden, and they are very different. Mazza represents a new generation of Colorado artists who are being shown along side historic Colorado artists at Kirkland Museum."
"I wanted to also choose a decorative art object because I have an inexplicable attraction to small household appliances. This multi-functional travel iron is also a water kettle; how brilliant is that? It even has adapters to fit any electrical outlet you may encounter on your journey. I can imagine this lovely item stowed away in luggage, circling the globe on a luxurious cruise ship. Nothing says luxury like the ability to quickly prepare a nice cup of tea and freshen up your wrinkled clothing no matter where you are."
Hugh Grant Director and Curator	Clown with Wand (Enamel on Copper) by Herman Cassagranda. "This choice was particularly difficult for me since I acquired all of these objects. However, I picked this work because few people realize how difficult the discipline of enamel is to do expertly. This is a masterpiece of American enamel and another work in Kirkland Museum that demonstrates the contribution of Colorado to American art history. The quality of Colorado art is one of the principle reasons our out-of-state visitors are so stunned when they explore Kirkland Museum."

Here's to 2009 – Happy New Year to all from the Kirkland staff!

One Book, One Denver, Part Deux

Last month we paid tribute to the One Book/One Denver program by highlighting objects in our collection that might have been found in the NY apartment of Nick and Nora Charles, the protagonists of The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett. While choosing those art deco objects from our extensive collection, it was necessary to omit some great pieces that simply would not have fit into the Charles' lifestyle. They did not cook for themselves, nor did they take care of their own home. Theirs was a high-end cosmopolitan existence. Now, we think it might be fun to peek inside an average American home of the 1930s:

Breakfast was the most important meal of the day. Mom fixed fresh-squeezed orange juice, waffles and coddled eggs, with tea for her and coffee for Dad – "The Bomb" Juice Extractor (c. 1935) from the Vitasphere Mfg. Co. Tacoma, WA, was said to purr as it pulverized pulp at 5000 rpms."The Bomb" refers to the shape, which resembles an artillery shell.



She could make two big Belgian waffles at once in the Twin-O-Matic Waffle Iron (Manning-Bowman & Co., Meriden, CT). This time-saving whiz was designed by Karl Ratliff for the 1939 New York World's Fair.




Mom kept an eye on her egg as it cooked in the clear glass Eierkocher (Egg Cooker) designed in 1934 by the Bauhaus designer, Wilhem Wagenfeld (1900–1990). Unlike many other Bauhaus teachers, Wagenfeld stayed and worked in Germany during Hitler's Third Reich. His unwillingness to join the Nazi party however landed him at the front during the war and he subsequently spent time in a Russian POW camp, where it can be presumed that neither eggs nor prisoners were coddled.

Mom served this wholesome fare on Susie Cooper (1902–1995) Dishes (Crown Works, Burslem). Her set contained a teapot for her English breakfast tea and a coffee pot for Dad's Chase and Sandborne, both in the popular Kestral pattern. Cooper was an English designer who began her career as a young 'paintress' at A.E. Gray Pottery and eventually went on to establish her own very successful company.

After the breakfast dishes were done and the family cleared out for the day, it was time to pull out the Electrolux Vacuum Cleaner Model 30 (1937) designed by Lurelle Guild (1898–1986). This streamlined powerhouse was the envy of the neighborhood and helped make short work of keeping the family nest tidy.

Later in the afternoon, with her housework done, Mom could retrieve the latest issue of McCall's magazine from the McKay Craft Magazine Rack (c. 1934) designed by John Waring Carpenter* (1885–1961) and enjoy a few minutes to herself before starting dinner.

The Chase Electric Snack Server (Chase Brass & Copper Co., Waterbury, CT) cost $12.50 when it hit the market in 1934. It could keep three one-quart Pyrex dishes warm or piping hot – just right for holding her consommé, creamed chicken and peas & carrots at the perfect temperature while she baked the potatoes in her new Top-O-Stove Potato Cookers (c. 1938) from the Na-Mac Products Corp. in Los Angeles, CA.



After supper, Mom and Dad would likely gather the youngsters in front of the Sparton 558 SLED Radio (1937) designed by Walter Dorwin Teague (1883–1960) to listen to their favorite show before bedtime. On one particular October evening in 1938, seventy years ago this month, the show might have been Orson Welles's Mercury Theatre. Through a series of unfortunate decisions and coincidences, that performance still lives in infamy as Welles terrorized the nation with H.G. Wells's The War of the Worlds.

Happy Halloween!

*It was brought to our attention by a kind reader that our former attribution to Warren McArthur of the McKay Craft Magazine Rack mentioned in our last blog was incorrect. The correct designer was, of course, John Waring Carpenter.

In Honor of One Book, One Denver

Nick and Nora Charles lived in San Francisco and New York in the uber-stylish 1930s. Their clothes were fashionable, their repartee was pithy and their home was no doubt filled with great design. (It was the era of Art Deco, though the term was not coined until 1968 by art historian Bevis Hillier. Nick and Nora would not have been familiar with it, so we won't use it here.) A walk through the Kirkland Museum collection may give us an idea of what constituted great home décor in the 1930s –

A Day in the Life of Nick and Nora Charles

Nora Charles left her husband Nick in their living room, sitting in the Wolfgang Hoffmann (1900–1969) Tubular Chrome and Leather Armchair (1930s) gazing out their apartment window at the skyline of Manhattan. She walked into the bedroom, hoping he wouldn't use her brief absence to pour himself another drink, knowing, of course, that he would.




She glanced at her reflection in the Bluebird Radio (Spartan Corp. 1934) designed by Walter Dorwin Teague (1883–1960) on her bedside table and applied a dab of Shalimar behind each ear from the little red Nautilus Perfume Bottle (Cambridge Glass Co. 1932) nearby.


With a sigh she turned to the closet to select her late afternoon dress...


Back in the living room, Nick awakened thirsty from his daydream...Manhattan, Manhattan – yes, of course, the skyline had reminded him of his Norman Bel Geddes (1853–1958) Manhattan Cocktail Shaker (Revere Copper & Brass Co. 1937) beckoning to him from the colorful Jazz Serving Tray (1930s) across the room. Damn, he'd have to get up if he wanted that drink.




He filled a Floating Square Cocktail Glass with the perfect Dry Martini*, after indulging in a turn around the room with the Manhattan Shaker humming When I Grow Too Old to Dream (Sigmund Romberg and Oscar Hammerstein II, 1934) –
"You see, the important thing is the rhythm. You always have rhythm in your shaking. With a Manhattan, you shake to a foxtrot time. A Bronx to two-step time. A Dry Martini you always shake to waltz time."(William Powell as Nick Charles in the The Thin Man, MGM 1933)



Taking careful aim he sent the Rollodor Smoking Stand (Belmet Products Inc. 1930s) careening across the room, coming to rest gently beside his cozy chair. It was a skill that required practice. Relaxing again, drink in hand, he lit his cigarette with a clever little Varaflame Futura Table Lighter (The Ronson Co. 1930s).


Asta, their Schnauzer, settled herself at his feet, adding to the feeling overtaking him of being a king in his castle.

Nora emerged from the bedroom, a vision in emerald green bias-cut silk. He admired his good taste in a woman. She was smart, a knockout and never boring.

"Where to, this evening, Son?"

"Let's hit the Stork Club, Mama. It's been a while. If Winchell's there, that dress may get us a mention in tomorrow's paper."


She reached for the Model 300 Bakelite Telephone (1937), designed by Henry Dreyfuss (1904–1972) –

"Shall we put in our breakfast order now? It will be nice to have it waiting for us when we get back...
kippers?"

"Make mine chicken livers. Let's go."

"Satisfactory, Son, very satisfactory."

---

*To enhance your reading of The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett, we offer a recipe for the perfect Dry Martini circa 1930:

Ice cubes 1/2 measure dry vermouth 4 drops orange bitters 2 1/2 measures gin 1 green olive or lemon twist

Fill the mixing glass with ice cubes and add the vermouth and orange bitters. Stir until the ice cubes are thoroughly coated then pour off the excess. Pour in the gin and stir thoroughly then strain the cocktail into a chilled glass. Drop an olive or a lemon twist into the mixed drink and serve.

From Martini by David Taylor (Hamlyn, Octopus Publishing Group, London 2002)

The Art Deco Difference

The Aesthetic Movement (c.1865–1900) in decorative arts was a by-product of the radical literary philosophy of "Art for art's sake," championed by, among others, the flamboyant Oscar Wilde. The Arts and Crafts Movement (1856–c.1918) was populated by reformers like William Morris, who believed the industrial revolution and the promotion of mass-produced replicas of historical styles were murdering the souls of the workers. Art Nouveau and Jugenstil (c.1880–c.1918) responded to rigid and academic dictums in the decorative arts with free, organic lines and a lightening of colors and shapes.

By contrast, the style we have come to know as Art Deco took form (and its name), not from a philosophy or a spirit of social reform, but from a single event, planned to re-establish France's international pre-eminence in the decorative arts following the devastation of World War I. To be sure, the Art Deco style borrowed from the movements listed above—but only those elements which were consistent with its message of progress and modernity. Art Deco had no interest in looking back, only forward.

The event was the 1925 Paris Exposition Internationale des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Moderne which ran from April to October. Nations were invited to exhibit their original and progressive designs and manufactured goods. Notably absent were Germany, invited too late to produce an exhibition, and the United States. Herbert Hoover, then Secretary of Commerce declined the invitation, stating that there were no significantly 'modern' products being made in the U.S. in 1925. He need not have worried about the U.S.'s ability to match the criteria set out by the host country. No other country relied more heavily on their historic strengths than France, generally ignoring their own directive.

To put into perspective the diversity of designers who influenced the 1925 Paris Exposition, it may be fun to take a look at a few pieces in the Kirkland collection with connections to that historic event.

Hector Guimard (1867–1942) is best known as the father of French Art Nouveau for his iconic design of the Paris Metro stations in 1900. In 1901, Guimard joined five fellow French designers to form the Societe des Artistes Decorateurs. It was through the creation and planning of that organization that the 1925 Paris Exposition was realized. This Art Nouveau Planter (c.1900) by Hector Guimard sits on the Endre Thek cabinet in the Watercolor Room.

Edgar Brandt (1880–1960) was considered the master of decorative metalwork when he created the iron railings for Jacques-Emil Ruhlmann's Pavilion of a Wealthy Collector. The exhibit generated criticism for ignoring the everyday consumer. Maybe Brandt's Pelican Ash Receiver (1925) created that same year, would have been more within their reach. You'll find it in the Watercolor Room as well.

When the Italian company Richard-Ginori won the 1925 Paris Exhibition's Grand Prix for their small neoclassical room, the young Gio Ponti (1891–1979) had been its creative director for 2 years, bringing with him dramatic changes in the style produced by the company. His inspiration was the classical world, but his aim was to interpret it in a uniquely modern way.
In 1971 Ponti designed the North Building of the Denver Art Museum and it was during this time that his friendship with Vance Kirkland blossomed. The museum is fortunate to have a number of Ponti pieces. This exquisite vase, entitled Il Trionfo Delle Aamazzoni (The Triumph of the Amazons) (1925) is currently on view in Exhibition Room I.

Josef Hoffman (1870–1956), co-founder, with Koloman Moser, of the Weiner Werkstätte (1903-1933) was the architect chosen to oversee the Austrian section of the Exposition. One featured exhibit was his Room of Relaxation—walls covered in WW patterned wallpaper with no furniture of any kind, just a deeply upholstered floor with cushions and niches in walls instead of tables. In the Watercolor Room, you'll see his earlier Weiner Werkstätte designs for a Table and Chair for the Jacob and Josef Kohn Co. (c.1905).

René Lalique (1860–1945) created a colossal glass fountain for the Paris show in addition to a dining room for the Sèvres Pavilion and a pavilion devoted to his own work. He also led the jury for glass works. He had been a star of Art Nouveau since the turn of the century, known for his jewelry designs, glass wares and automobile mascots. While you're in the Watercolor Room, take a look at his exquisite Coquilles Bowl (1924).


In 1925, the French put up more than 100 buildings to house their own exhibits. All but one celebrated historic French classicism and ornament. Le Corbusier (1887–1967 born Charles-Edouard Jeanneret), Pierre Jeanneret(1896–1967) and Charlotte Perriand (1903–1999) designed the Pavilion de l'Esprit Nouveau to "deny decorative art, and to affirm that architecture extends to even the most humble piece of furniture, to the streets, to the city, and to all." Authorities were so upset by the trio's work that they erected a twenty foot high fence to hide the building. Only the intervention of the Minister of Fine Art forced the fence to be removed just before the opening of the Exposition.

In this visionary "machine for living," as Le Corbusier called it, pure form replaced decoration and foreshadowed the modernism that would eventually replace Art Deco. A few years later, he and his collaborators designed the Basculant Chair (1928). You can have a look for yourself in Exhibition Room II.

–Mary Beth Orr, Volunteer and Public Programs Coordinator