Modern Art and Modernism presents a selection of texts by the major contributors to debate on this subject, from Baudelaire and Zola in the nineteenth century to Greenberg and T. J. Clark in our own times. It offers a balanced section of essays by contributors to the mainstream of Modernist criticism, representative examples of writing on the themes of abstraction and expression in modern art, and a number of important contributions to the discussion of aesthetics and the social role of the artist. Several of these are made available in English translation for the first time, and others are brought together from a wide range of periodicals and specialized collections.
Nice book, and despite my love for modern art, Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, it was a painful read for me as I suffered this course of art history in college.
After finishing "Modernity and Modernism: French Painting in the Nineteenth Century", I am still unsure in what this work is trying to be. The preface states that it is the first in a series "about art and its interpretations." It is not about "art" in a historical or methodological way; I can tell you almost nothing about French art in the 19th century beyond some basic info. I can, however, begin having a lively conversation about to interpret art of the 19th century according to modern theory. As a result, I think the work misguides the reader when it claims "Each book is self sufficient and accessible to the general reader." If you do not have a familiar background in post modern theory, feminist theory, and similar you will struggle with this work. When "Modernity and Modernism" works, you can learn a great deal about how different art can be approached and how Modernism, in art, differentiates itself. You can also start to see how different art works, for lack of a better word, in different ways. The coverage of artists is expansive and the authors refuse to dwell on any one author for too long. The problem, for me, is that the work becomes over-burdened by philosophical jargon. There is simply too much late 20th century philosophical discourse about how to approach art in general. The actual art of the 19th century, the focus of the work, acts as a conclusion to how we should approach art in general. The art of Monet, Manet, Cézanne, Pissarro, and others are used as examples to show how art ought to be seen rather than as the focus of the work in their own right. That might have been the intention of the authors but I find the whole enterprise misleading. Concluding the work was a chapter on Feminism. As an introduction to feminist's theory and art, it was interesting and engaging but the art of the 19th century had little if anything to do with it. Much of what was being covered could have been covered with a focus on any other era in painting. Of course there was emphasis on French painting but the meat of the work was in it's philosophical and critical arguments not how they applied to the art in question. I read this alongside of Zola's "The Masterpiece" and the latter does a much better job at exploring what Modern, modernity, and art meant than Francis Frascina (and company) did. The physical book was quite nice. Colored plates allows the reader a chance to look at the art as it was intended to be seen. The paper was weird but I believe it was a concession to the colored plates so it was fine. Ultimately, the work failed to impress.
For a book that covers such an engaging and exciting period of transformation in French art, this is the dullest collection of writing I could have ever imagined. It feels restrained and vague and is not effective in its use of examples or analogy. The one thing I did appreciate was the use of color images, it is an art book, it should ideally use color. Please, go for a cocktail of works when approaching this subject, you don't have to subjugate yourself to such sterile reading.
Nice introductory text to Impressionism and Modernism. Provides cultural and historical contexts. Also has nice section on gender issues and the 'lack' of famous female artists.