Obscurity in Artistry

Obscurity, in both senses.

The warm April that's got plants and good moods springing up everywhere has cloaked it for the past week or so, but I was reminded today with a visit to the National Gallery's Fair Trade Palace.

Not only does a dark current of history pulse through the Vltava and the territories it touches, but much of it goes underexposed. How many Czech figures can you name? Three months ago, the only name I could drop was Art Nouveau's darling Alfons Mucha. And let's face it -- his popularity was born out of his success in Paris.

Today we saw a collection of František Kupka's work, including his Amorpha: Fugue in Two Colors, the first abstract painting ever presented to the public. (Who would have guessed it?) I don't care much for it visually so chose his Piano Keyboard/Lake to illustrate this post instead. Here you can see a snapshot in his shift from naturalistic to abstracted depictions. And a defining moment in art history that I'm willing to bet goes unnoticed in your typical art historical education. An ignorance, at least in my course of study, that permeates the greater Western education.

The Czechs' obscurity continues to be compounded by their Central (and sometimes even Eastern) European status. I don't know how much light can be shed, but I'm glad the April sun has lifted the veil at least for me. Maybe the warmest Prague spring (points for unintentional historical reference!) in half a decade will bring some new life to Czech scholarship?

Here's to hoping, here's to sunlight, and here's to you, František Kupka.