“The American Surrealist sculptor who evoked enchanting, metaphysical worlds by magical combinations of found objects in small boxes . . . a wonderful introduction to the artist’s world.” ― Wall Street Journal Originally published to celebrate the centennial of Joseph Cornell’s birth, this book provides a multidimensional perspective on the pioneering modern artist. Lavishly illustrated with more than seventy-five boxes and collages, as well as images of the fascinating source material that the artist collected to create his exquisitely crafted worlds, it communicates to the reader the sense of surprise and delight that one experiences on viewing the actual boxes with their toys, stuffed birds, maps, clay pipes, marbles, shells, and other paraphernalia of daily life. The book’s essays bring together the expertise of Lynda Roscoe Hartigan, former director of the Joseph Cornell Study Center; the compelling commentary of Walter Hopps, art dealer, museum curator and director, and the artist’s personal friend; the wide-ranging scholarship of Richard Vine; and the sensitivity of Robert Lehrman, a leading Cornell collector whose firsthand experience lends this publication its distinctive intimacy. Among the topics explored are the role of dualities in the artistic process, the dominant themes of Cornell’s oeuvre, and the importance of his Christian Science faith. 231 illustrations, 205 in color
Published in 2003 to celebrate the centennial of Josph Cornell's birth, Shadowplay Eterniday is one of the most beautifully designed books I've come across. It's apparent on every page that the editors and contributors not only possessed great respect for Cornell as an artist but also had a deep personal affecton for him as a man. It's a loving tribute to the most enigmatic of the Surrealists, an outsider who lived his entire adult life in a middle class home in Queens, New York, probably the most unlikely location on the planet to find an artist of his stature.
Cornell's entire career was something of an anomaly. There was nothing in his upper middle-class background or in his education that had anything to do with art. On the one hand he could be viewed as a recluse who had no deep personal relationships other than with his mother and his brother Robert, an invalid who suffered from cerebral palsy, both of whom lived with him in Queens. And yet paradoxically, while never promoting himself or traveling outside New York, he became a major figure in the art world and during his lifetime had major retrospectives at both the Guggenheim and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Though he was much too shy and sexually inexeperienced to have any romantic relationships, he did manage to form friendships with several of the actresses and ballerinas he so admired.
While he also made a number of avant garde films, Cornell is most widely known for his boxes. These glass fronted displays normally contain a number of disparate elements, most of them taken from the artist's extensive collections of bric a brac that he accumulated compulsively in his wanderings through New York City. When placed together, however, the assembled boxes become self-contained universes and represent far more than the sum of their parts. If often playful, they have at the same time far deeper meanings that require a great deal of time and patience to fathom. Along the way, the use of found objects in the creation of the boxes made Cornell a pioneer of appropriation art and an unlikely confederate of Marcel Duchamp who in his "readymades" also sought to transform everyday objects into works of art. In fact, Duchamp's idea for the Boîte-en-valise owed much to Cornell who even assisted in the design of the valise itself.
If the contradictory elements of Cornell's life make it difficult to get a grasp on the man himself, there's a quote on page 37 of the present volume that's extremely helpful.
"'You don't know how terrible it is to be locked into boxes all your life,' he [Cornell] told dealer David Mann, 'you have no idea what a terrible thing it is.'"
This is really key to understanding not only Cornell's art but his life as well. He apparently saw himself as a prisoner trapped in a strictured environment from which there was no escape much as the actresses and other figures to whom he paid tribute were sealed within the containers he created to hold them. The boxes thus became a metaphor for his own existence.
Shadowplay Eterniday contains three relatively brief essays as well as a biographical sketch and a bibliography. The first essay, by Lynda Roscoe Hartigan, is a general introduction to the artist's working methods and provides some idea of the scope of his accomplishments. The second and by far the most interesting, by Richard Vine, traces the influence of Cornell's strongly held Christian Science beliefs on his oeuvre. The third, by Robert Lehrman, is a collector's musings on several seminal works with which he has long been acquainted. The real heart of the book, of course, is the catalog of the artworks themselves. The reproductions are of the finest quality and are sometimes accompanied by details of the pieces shown. Though Cornell's three dimensional works invariably lose something of their essence when reduced to a two dimensional format, the excellence of the illustrations does go a long way in helping the reader appreciate the complexity and mystery of the originals.
In an unusual touch, the book contains a DVD that "delivers an encyclopediac compedium of the artist's work and source materials, the insights of numerous scholars and critics, access to Cornell's experimental films and interactive opportunities..."
I went to the Chicago Art Institute semi-regularly from birth until my early 20s and don't remember not loving Cornell's work; my father once told me how I asked for "the box room" at the museum as a 4 or 5 year old kid. This is one of the few books that actually works as a reasonable representation of his aggressively 3-D art, imo, and I'm pretty picky when it comes to his work.
Mostly I've just looked at the pictures a few times over. But as I'm starting to read the text, I'm pleased to find that this book has a refreshing focus on JC's vocation, his tools, materials, methodology, and organization of images and ideas, as opposed to a lot of writing about him that seeks to apply abstract terms and concepts to both his works and personality (eccentric, spiritual, pervert, surrealist, metaphysical, etc...), while neglecting the most apt characterization of all -- that of artist and craftsman. Still, I long for a detailed portrait of Cornell in his studio -- what does it look like, what time of day is it, does he hum or play the radio or work in silence, what kind of glue is he using...
Joseph Cornell, one of the world's best fine-art collagists, is often neglected in the art history books because his work was neither explicitly ideological nor very politically engaged. Here we have a savant of a sort, who existed in a rather peculiar limbo throughout his life. His puzzle boxes and installations are too craft-oriented and idiomatic to be fully embraced by the fine art cogniscenti. Which is their loss, as his best works have a wonderful mythical resonance to them. Comes with one of the better interactive DVD-ROMs that I've ever seen. You can even virtually lift pieces up and turn them around, open and close boxes and books and much more.
looking through this while Im at work...very inspiring how he can make art out of categorizing and collecting things. Usually we dont think of organized minds being creative...its always the frenetic left brained-ers that we associate with artistic ability. Anyways...Im learning a lot so far and being inspired. Though like my brother said "Yeah, it sucked when I found out about that guy cause I wanted to do light boxes."
A good pick for those interested in Cornell's art - his work is presented in beautifully photographed spreads that capture the mood and feel of his work, the stillness and shadows, the sense of time invested in the work and yet the curious timelessness of the pieces themselves...
My son gave me this book for Christmas. I had never heard of Joseph Cornell, but his work is oddly familiar to me. Odd religious beliefs, odd self-taught artist making shadow boxes that pay tribute to his inner mythology. Strangely compelling. Well written text too, accompanying the images.