MAURITS CORNELIS ESCHER (1898-1972)
Escher was an unusual artist, driven by a desire to solve problems which may seem more relevant to the mathematician than the printmaker: a desire to expand the artistic limitations of the flat surface upon which he worked. Artist have been creating the illusion of depth on a flat surface (be it on paper, canvas or board), since Giotto first demonstrated the practice of foreshortening in the 14th century. But the Renaissance principles which developed as a result did not go far enough for this alchemist. These principles were closely linked to the position of the horizon line and, even though they embraced vertical perspective, it was kept in its simple form. Escher was interested in examining the potential of vertical perspectives, creating greater depth and multiple viewpoints within one image, sometimes producing more than one vanishing point in a picture. He wanted to prove that the two-dimensional surface was capable of greater illusions of depth than had previously shown.
Escher strove to achieve the impression of limitless space, to explore the transformation of one world into another, or others. Often we can follow the transformations as they occur and believe them, even though rationally we know they are impossible. Escher never rejected the representational in his work, so there is always an access point for the viewer. Once inside the image, however, the safety net is removed. Entering one of Eschers prints is like entering another world, where all our solid foundations are shaken and replaced by a new set of spatial dimensions. Motifs which frequently appear include fish, lizards, birds, sea and landscapes, at times reflected in water or mirrors. Escher sought subjects which he could pare down to their most simple, two-dimensional forms and then transform into solid, three-dimensional objects. He also chose subjects which could easily metamorphose into something else fish into birds, for example. When approaching such works, it is best to suspend disbelief and join the artist on a journey into a world where even gravity does not seem capable of keeping out feet on the ground.
Maurits Cornelis Escher (1898-1972) was the youngest son of a Dutch engineer. He was an artist child, and attended the School of Architecture and Ornamental Design in Haarlem 1919-22. Halfway through his architecture studies, he decided that his real interest lay in graphic design. He changed courses and was trained under Jessurun de Mesquita, a master printmaker whose influence was recognised by Escher throughout his career. Mesquita taught the young student to appreciate different types and cuts of wood and, among other skills, to produce highly proficient woodcuts. For the next seven years Escher rarely employed any other technique, apart from pen and ink for sketching. In fact hi did not make his first lithograph until 1920-1921 and his first wood-engraving in 1926, although both techniques were to become hallmarks of his mature style.
Escher belittled the prints he produced before 1935, in later life describing them as of little or no value now, because they were for the most part merely practice exercises. But without them the later, more famous, prints might never have evolved. As this book charts, in the early works Escher set the foundations upon which his later, more imaginative art could be constructed.
During the years in Italy (1923-35), Escher drew much of his inspiration direct from nature, although even at this early stage his interest in perspective, unconventional viewpoints, minute detailing and somewhat surreal subjects was already surfacing. After 1935 he relied more on developing ideas which sprang from his imagination. This had much to do with a change of circumstances. Escher, his wife Jetta and their three children, left Rome for Switzerland in 1935. From there they moved to Brussels in 1938, and finally set up a permanent home in Holland in 1941. Without the southern climate, the architecture and landscape of Italy, Escher felt bereft of subject matter. He began to look inwards and discovered in his mind a new and even more potent source of inspiration than southern Italy. The fact that he could solve problems which were rooted in his mind in a visual form on paper, an so communicate them to the world, came as a revelation, opening up the floodgates of a most extraordinary and idiosyncratic art.
It has often been said that Eschers work holds more appeal for the scientist than the art-lover, that the basis of his examination into the functions of art and design lay in mathematics, even crystallography a long from aesthetics. Escher was aware of this criticism but it did not concern him. He realised that the audience for his work might not be a conventional, or even particularly artistic one, and said: Although I am absolutely without training or knowledge, I often seem to have more in common with mathematicians than my fellows artists.
When Escher was asked to attend or speak at academic conferences on such subjects as applied mathematics, however, he found himself at a loss. He could only find the answers to his questions through visual experimentation, and it seemed that the specialists were more fascinated by his world that he was by theirs. Perhaps Escher is the only 20th century artist to have bridged the gap between art and science.
From 1941, Escher made many trips from Holland to Italy and he also visited the USA. During the 1950s he became internationally successful, with exhibitions in Washington DC, Italy and Holland. His work was published and criticised in Time, Life an other international journals, which all helped to fuel his reputation. He often complained that he did not have time to fulfil all his commissions, and resorted to putting up his prices in order to stem the flow of orders. This had no effect; his popularity continued to grow and he was knighted in 1955. During the 1960s the artist was forced to endure a series of operations and his health slowly deteriorated. But he had already produced a large body of work, to which he added during these later years.
Eschers art springs from a highly individual imagination, and yet it is dispassionate. Much of his output was black and white. He used colour only when strictly necessary, to create distinctions between forms, or to add further spatial qualities to a work, never solely for decoration. Like Chirico or Magritte, two of the great surrealist artists of the 20th century, the viewer often feels left utterly alone to engage with the subject. There is nothing of the artist in the image to welcome the viewer into his creation. Even when people appear in his prints, they are impersonal, and often seem to be in a trance-like state, dispossessed and disengaged from others around them, standing alone in the esoteric realms of their creators silent world.
Portrait of Jetta
1925, woodcut
Jetta Umiker captured Eschers heart when he met her in Ravello in 1923. She was the daughter of a German-Swiss industrialist and she and her family were passing the winter in Italy. They married in Viareggio in April 1924, much against the wishes of Jettas father, who was not enthusiastic about his daughter entering the Catholic church, which she did later in the same year. The woodcut of his wife was made by Escher in the same year. This woodcut of his wife was made by Escher in the winter of 1925. The couple were residing in Frascati at the time, while they waited for their new apartment in Rome to be completed. During the following two years Escher began to exhibit his work, having a series of successful show in Holland and Italy. Jetta gave birth to two sons, George in 1926 and Arthur in 1928.