Lot Essay
January 1, 1926. !Feliz Ano! I saw the old year out asleep in bed! - invitations did not tempt me, nothing but oblivion. I start the new year holding no new resolutions and forseeing no financial security. I do believe, granted leisure and frijoles, the coming year will be my best in photography. (Daybooks I. Mexico, p. 146)
For Edward Weston, 1926 arrived in the midst of resolve and change, personally and artistically. Returning to Mexico with his son Brett in August 1925, after an eight month hiatus in California, he would go on to create some of the most vital images of his career. This period was also a time of separation. His companion, Tina Modotti, would leave Mexico to visit her ailing mother in San Francisco, returning after three months. From this time until his final departure from Mexico - and Modotti - in November 1926, Weston created several photographs that anticipate the style and subject which became his signature after 1929. One of Weston's innovations was to see in natural forms the suggestion of human relevance. The form of Cloud, Mexico certainly implies a human torso. This contrasts significantly to Alfred Stieglitz's Equivalents which deliberately avoid human reference. Weston, on the other hand, charges his cloud study with an understated and cool emotional appeal.
Having difficulty planning his first break with Mexico, Weston reflected upon the delay in August 1924, reestablishing his artistic purpose in the Mexican self-exile: (Well), by remaining I can more completely realize Mexico in my work. Time is required for a new land to sink deep into one's consciousness....I must make the best of my time while in exile! (cf., p. 86) Upon his return a year later, on board the S. S. Oaxaca, he reconfirmed his intentions: Brett and E. W. Sailing! Once more bound for Mexico, returning to my unfinished period of work and life. There were farewells yesterday... Leaving the children, the most painful. But it had to be, this going away again.. He continued, admitting that it was not photography alone that tempted his return: But I am sure if my studio were not awaiting me intact and ready for work and if Tina were not in Mexico I would have hesitated longer or never have considered the return at all. At least I have some idea of what to expect of conditions and surroundings. I am not blindly venturing uncharted seas. I am not ready for another adventurous change. (cf., p. 125)
Numerous references to the skies appear in his Daybooks and from early on he comments on the desirability of skies and clouds as subjects. In August of 1923, sailing from Los Angeles with his son Chandler and Modotti, they had a two day stopover in Mazatlán where he made his "first negatives with intention" since leaving Los Angeles: A quite marvellous cloud form tempted me - a sunlit cloud which rose from the bay to become a towering white column. This negative became, of course, his well known print The Great White Cloud of Mazatlán. Throughout 1924 he continued to point his camera to the skies and made note of both the atmosphere and the photographs: June 7. ...The sky is the bluest blue ever conceived; the clouds which gather and drift, the whitest white ever imagined.; and the shadows cast by an uncompromising sun are not those loved by the poet of anaemic moods... All morning, clouds float across the sky, great white-sailed boats, pleasure boats on a joyous sea. Then the afternoon: the changing clouds, now grey, now black, a stirring and swaying of trees, a scurrying of humans below, a mumbling of heavens above, an apprehension of tropical discontent.... Again, on July 9: Clouds have been tempting me again. Next to the recording of a fugitive expression, or revealing the pathology of some human being, is there anything more elusive to capture than cloud forms! And the Mexican clouds are so swift and ephemeral, one can hardly allow the thought, "Is this worth doing?" or, "Is this placed well?" - for an instant of delay and what was, is not! The rarity of surviving prints can be partially attributed to the difficulty in creating strong negatives from such elusive subjects. Again, his Daybooks record his frustrations. In October, 1924 he despairs over an earlier cloud negative: After trying again to improve my printing of the new cloud negative, I have given up until some future day, to try it on white-stock platinum. My print of yesterday is an improvement, but not yet what I visualize!. (op. cit., p. 94) The print offered here, initialed and dated; signed, titled and dated twice and presented on its unusual mount, must have been the cause of great satisfaction for Weston.
In an entry dated January 23, 1926, after reflecting upon work done in Los Angeles, he returns to the present: Now it has been clouds again. Brett called me to see them. He adds an interesting note: One with fish-like form, quite exciting - and I have it. One has to wonder if perhaps he is referring to the image offered here.
Weston's photographs were popular in his adopted land. The Mexican art audience was fond of his work, responding enthusiastically to the several exhibitions held during his stay. He showed at the Café de Nadie in Mexico City, the State museum in Guadalajara and twice at the Aztec Land Gallery in 1923 and 1924. Though these exhibitions didn't afford him financial success, they did provide spiritual gain, for it was in Mexico that Weston found his own vision and a community of peers. He seemed to, with his work, touch upon an innate Mexican soul. The response was such that seven of his cloud imaÿges were included by José Vasconcelos, an author, educator and publisher of the magazine La Antorcha, in an article entitled "El Cielo de México," 15 November 1924. His second showing at Aztec Land elicited a laudatory review from Francisco Monterde García Icazbalceta in the form of a prose poem: The pupil of Weston's eye, circumscribed and clarified by his lens, is like a gunsight, and we have been presented with its conquests. He has looked through it, like through a telescope - actually a Cyclops - to catch medallions of clouds, molded in high relief. (Edward Weston in Mexico, pp. 31-32)
Weston turned 40 in Mexico. Although the Daybook entries for March 24, 1926 and the following day read with the aplomb of a self-satisfied expatriate artist, he seems self-conscious in avoiding any direct consideration of the plateau: Estoy triste - but not over my age. I wish for the children around me!. The next day he records bluntly: Celebrated my birthday by putting in hellish hours of hard work. Although not directly stated, his reflection on the change in age seems to hasten an internal urgency to resolve his "unfinished period."
Weston's clouds are some of the few photographs he made which rely heavily on chance in that the subject was so fleeting, he had to work quickly and intuitively. While he might mull over a subject such as Excusado for weeks, or be inspired by a nude transforming itself under his control, the clouds revealed themselves only instantaneously. Weston abhored any "reading into" photographs. In 1925 he would refer to Stieglitz's notions as "bunk mysticism". (op. cit., p. 133) Although Stieglitz was photographing clouds concurrently with Weston's efforts, his intent was vastly different. Seventy years later we see Weston as the extrovert, seeking affirmation of his work by judging the result against the subject. Weston's intent was to photograph as a means for "rendering the very substance and quintessence of the thing itself". Stieglitz, on the other hand, sought an internal "Equivalent" in the natural world that might express externally his own soul or spirit.
Weston knew that with time would come the inevitable and final departure from Mexico and Modotti. The transience of the clouds reflected on this state of being. Separation was certainly on his mind - a theme he was constantly reminded of while being in Mexico. His final entry to his Mexican Daybook reads:
Tuesday - 9th (November, 1926) On the train. The leaving of Mexico will be remembered for the leaving of Tina. The barrier between us was for the moment broken. Not till we were on the Paseo in a taxi rushing for the train did I allow myself to see her eyes. But when I did and saw what they had to say. I took her to me, - our lips met in an endless kiss, only stopped by a gendarme's whistle....Vamanos! - last embraces all around - Tina with tear filled eyes. This time, Mexico, it must be adiøs forever. And you, Tina? I feel it must be farewell forever too.
The print offered here is a duplicate print from the collection of the J. Paul Getty Museum. Proceeds from the sale will be applied to the acquisition of photographs.
For Edward Weston, 1926 arrived in the midst of resolve and change, personally and artistically. Returning to Mexico with his son Brett in August 1925, after an eight month hiatus in California, he would go on to create some of the most vital images of his career. This period was also a time of separation. His companion, Tina Modotti, would leave Mexico to visit her ailing mother in San Francisco, returning after three months. From this time until his final departure from Mexico - and Modotti - in November 1926, Weston created several photographs that anticipate the style and subject which became his signature after 1929. One of Weston's innovations was to see in natural forms the suggestion of human relevance. The form of Cloud, Mexico certainly implies a human torso. This contrasts significantly to Alfred Stieglitz's Equivalents which deliberately avoid human reference. Weston, on the other hand, charges his cloud study with an understated and cool emotional appeal.
Having difficulty planning his first break with Mexico, Weston reflected upon the delay in August 1924, reestablishing his artistic purpose in the Mexican self-exile: (Well), by remaining I can more completely realize Mexico in my work. Time is required for a new land to sink deep into one's consciousness....I must make the best of my time while in exile! (cf., p. 86) Upon his return a year later, on board the S. S. Oaxaca, he reconfirmed his intentions: Brett and E. W. Sailing! Once more bound for Mexico, returning to my unfinished period of work and life. There were farewells yesterday... Leaving the children, the most painful. But it had to be, this going away again.. He continued, admitting that it was not photography alone that tempted his return: But I am sure if my studio were not awaiting me intact and ready for work and if Tina were not in Mexico I would have hesitated longer or never have considered the return at all. At least I have some idea of what to expect of conditions and surroundings. I am not blindly venturing uncharted seas. I am not ready for another adventurous change. (cf., p. 125)
Numerous references to the skies appear in his Daybooks and from early on he comments on the desirability of skies and clouds as subjects. In August of 1923, sailing from Los Angeles with his son Chandler and Modotti, they had a two day stopover in Mazatlán where he made his "first negatives with intention" since leaving Los Angeles: A quite marvellous cloud form tempted me - a sunlit cloud which rose from the bay to become a towering white column. This negative became, of course, his well known print The Great White Cloud of Mazatlán. Throughout 1924 he continued to point his camera to the skies and made note of both the atmosphere and the photographs: June 7. ...The sky is the bluest blue ever conceived; the clouds which gather and drift, the whitest white ever imagined.; and the shadows cast by an uncompromising sun are not those loved by the poet of anaemic moods... All morning, clouds float across the sky, great white-sailed boats, pleasure boats on a joyous sea. Then the afternoon: the changing clouds, now grey, now black, a stirring and swaying of trees, a scurrying of humans below, a mumbling of heavens above, an apprehension of tropical discontent.... Again, on July 9: Clouds have been tempting me again. Next to the recording of a fugitive expression, or revealing the pathology of some human being, is there anything more elusive to capture than cloud forms! And the Mexican clouds are so swift and ephemeral, one can hardly allow the thought, "Is this worth doing?" or, "Is this placed well?" - for an instant of delay and what was, is not! The rarity of surviving prints can be partially attributed to the difficulty in creating strong negatives from such elusive subjects. Again, his Daybooks record his frustrations. In October, 1924 he despairs over an earlier cloud negative: After trying again to improve my printing of the new cloud negative, I have given up until some future day, to try it on white-stock platinum. My print of yesterday is an improvement, but not yet what I visualize!. (op. cit., p. 94) The print offered here, initialed and dated; signed, titled and dated twice and presented on its unusual mount, must have been the cause of great satisfaction for Weston.
In an entry dated January 23, 1926, after reflecting upon work done in Los Angeles, he returns to the present: Now it has been clouds again. Brett called me to see them. He adds an interesting note: One with fish-like form, quite exciting - and I have it. One has to wonder if perhaps he is referring to the image offered here.
Weston's photographs were popular in his adopted land. The Mexican art audience was fond of his work, responding enthusiastically to the several exhibitions held during his stay. He showed at the Café de Nadie in Mexico City, the State museum in Guadalajara and twice at the Aztec Land Gallery in 1923 and 1924. Though these exhibitions didn't afford him financial success, they did provide spiritual gain, for it was in Mexico that Weston found his own vision and a community of peers. He seemed to, with his work, touch upon an innate Mexican soul. The response was such that seven of his cloud imaÿges were included by José Vasconcelos, an author, educator and publisher of the magazine La Antorcha, in an article entitled "El Cielo de México," 15 November 1924. His second showing at Aztec Land elicited a laudatory review from Francisco Monterde García Icazbalceta in the form of a prose poem: The pupil of Weston's eye, circumscribed and clarified by his lens, is like a gunsight, and we have been presented with its conquests. He has looked through it, like through a telescope - actually a Cyclops - to catch medallions of clouds, molded in high relief. (Edward Weston in Mexico, pp. 31-32)
Weston turned 40 in Mexico. Although the Daybook entries for March 24, 1926 and the following day read with the aplomb of a self-satisfied expatriate artist, he seems self-conscious in avoiding any direct consideration of the plateau: Estoy triste - but not over my age. I wish for the children around me!. The next day he records bluntly: Celebrated my birthday by putting in hellish hours of hard work. Although not directly stated, his reflection on the change in age seems to hasten an internal urgency to resolve his "unfinished period."
Weston's clouds are some of the few photographs he made which rely heavily on chance in that the subject was so fleeting, he had to work quickly and intuitively. While he might mull over a subject such as Excusado for weeks, or be inspired by a nude transforming itself under his control, the clouds revealed themselves only instantaneously. Weston abhored any "reading into" photographs. In 1925 he would refer to Stieglitz's notions as "bunk mysticism". (op. cit., p. 133) Although Stieglitz was photographing clouds concurrently with Weston's efforts, his intent was vastly different. Seventy years later we see Weston as the extrovert, seeking affirmation of his work by judging the result against the subject. Weston's intent was to photograph as a means for "rendering the very substance and quintessence of the thing itself". Stieglitz, on the other hand, sought an internal "Equivalent" in the natural world that might express externally his own soul or spirit.
Weston knew that with time would come the inevitable and final departure from Mexico and Modotti. The transience of the clouds reflected on this state of being. Separation was certainly on his mind - a theme he was constantly reminded of while being in Mexico. His final entry to his Mexican Daybook reads:
Tuesday - 9th (November, 1926) On the train. The leaving of Mexico will be remembered for the leaving of Tina. The barrier between us was for the moment broken. Not till we were on the Paseo in a taxi rushing for the train did I allow myself to see her eyes. But when I did and saw what they had to say. I took her to me, - our lips met in an endless kiss, only stopped by a gendarme's whistle....Vamanos! - last embraces all around - Tina with tear filled eyes. This time, Mexico, it must be adiøs forever. And you, Tina? I feel it must be farewell forever too.
The print offered here is a duplicate print from the collection of the J. Paul Getty Museum. Proceeds from the sale will be applied to the acquisition of photographs.