Magical Music by Louise Schatz
Written By: Meir Ronnen
The semi-retrospective exhibition of 55 watercolours, collage, gouache and a single oil pastel by Louise Schatz is one of the most interesting, accomplished and certainly the most cheery and pleasing show by any local painter presented at the Israel Museum; one is almost tempted to say of any showwe have seen there, with the exception of that of Paul Klee who is, in many ways, the soul-father of this exhibit, though one can discern an affinity with other Bauhaus professors, notably Feiniger and Kandinsky; and also with Bissier. Yet there is nothing derivative or plagiarised about her often playful creations. Nor, as in the works of the Bauhaus masters, is there in any repetition, in thought or deed. Every single one of her abstracts here has somethingfor its own to say in form, texture and colour - a rare accomplishment. Despite all this, each is recognisably a Schatz (in the German sense as well, if we may be permitted the pun). This creative inventiveness, stamped by an unmistakable personal character, is typical of the Bauhaus trio mentioned above, or for further comparison, of a series of fugues by Bach. And like Bach, they emanate the joy that celebrates creation.
There are many good reasons for all this. Firstly, each work has been conceived for its own sake, generally entirely free of any illustrative quality, the titles being essentially post-factum associations, even where they seem most apt. Then in each case the formal problems posed are resolved with seeming ease and deftness, no matter how complicated the construction. .. just as in a Bach fugue. One can delve into the construction of a Schatz with ever-rewarding interest.... or simply sit back and enjoy the music without any intellectual effort. The music here is a harmony of colour as much as form, line or mass; and it is this harmony which produces the sensation of pleasantness and is not, Heaven forefend, the result of trying to please; there is nothing ingratiating. While many of these watercolours are jewel-like, there is no suggestion of sweetness. While there is a tangible link with the traditionally pretty aspect of nature: twigs, leaves, the wind in the leaves, the birds in the branches, they emerge here as a feeling rather than as a delineation.
By the same token, the delicacy of touch within a fairly small format, which could have led to mere prettiness, is here a very positive factor. However beneath the velvet glove is an iron discipline tempered in accumulated knowledge. With few exceptions - some larger mixed media paintings that are a little over-worked - the technical means employed (watercolour, gouache, pasted thread, mesh, news-print or coloured paper) are all put in with absolute surety, and the clever collage tricks are a means rather than an end. The watercolour techniques are a particular joy; so easy to muddle or botch, they recall here another technical musical comparison: the impeccable fingering of a Casals in rendering a fugue.
Watercolours are a particularly demanding medium, inasmuch as the painter must think through every move in advance and render it with great accuracy at every stage of the work. Much must be accomplished “in one go” before the paint dries, sometimes in a matter of minutes, even seconds. One mistake, either technical or aesthetic, can ruin the whole thing. Many works inevitably go somewhat wrong; and few artists can resist the temptation to discard those that are almost right. One of the ingredients of the success of this show is the artist’s selfcritical selectivity. Her first criterion was obviously the avoidance of repetition. The second was fidelity to a high technical standard. The third seems to have been a conscious attempt to make the show all of a piece by eschewing her earlier, more figurative landscapes that were charming descriptions or symbols of Arab villages rather than landscapes of the mind; for only a few decorative hints of them appear here. In confining this show to the landscapes of her mind (the period covers the last 13 years) Louise Schatz has given us only her very best. And the best of these offer sheer delight, a rare experience these days, when so many shows open windows onto narcissistic minds or narrow souls, or have nothing else to celebrate but the contents of a bathroom cupboard.
Magical Music by Louise Schatz
Written By: Meir Ronnen
The semi-retrospective exhibition of 55 watercolours, collage, gouache and a single oil pastel by Louise Schatz is one of the most interesting, accomplished and certainly the most cheery and pleasing show by any local painter presented at the Israel Museum; one is almost tempted to say of any showwe have seen there, with the exception of that of Paul Klee who is, in many ways, the soul-father of this exhibit, though one can discern an affinity with other Bauhaus professors, notably Feiniger and Kandinsky; and also with Bissier. Yet there is nothing derivative or plagiarised about her often playful creations. Nor, as in the works of the Bauhaus masters, is there in any repetition, in thought or deed. Every single one of her abstracts here has somethingfor its own to say in form, texture and colour - a rare accomplishment. Despite all this, each is recognisably a Schatz (in the German sense as well, if we may be permitted the pun). This creative inventiveness, stamped by an unmistakable personal character, is typical of the Bauhaus trio mentioned above, or for further comparison, of a series of fugues by Bach. And like Bach, they emanate the joy that celebrates creation.
There are many good reasons for all this. Firstly, each work has been conceived for its own sake, generally entirely free of any illustrative quality, the titles being essentially post-factum associations, even where they seem most apt. Then in each case the formal problems posed are resolved with seeming ease and deftness, no matter how complicated the construction. .. just as in a Bach fugue. One can delve into the construction of a Schatz with ever-rewarding interest.... or simply sit back and enjoy the music without any intellectual effort. The music here is a harmony of colour as much as form, line or mass; and it is this harmony which produces the sensation of pleasantness and is not, Heaven forefend, the result of trying to please; there is nothing ingratiating. While many of these watercolours are jewel-like, there is no suggestion of sweetness. While there is a tangible link with the traditionally pretty aspect of nature: twigs, leaves, the wind in the leaves, the birds in the branches, they emerge here as a feeling rather than as a delineation.
By the same token, the delicacy of touch within a fairly small format, which could have led to mere prettiness, is here a very positive factor. However beneath the velvet glove is an iron discipline tempered in accumulated knowledge. With few exceptions - some larger mixed media paintings that are a little over-worked - the technical means employed (watercolour, gouache, pasted thread, mesh, news-print or coloured paper) are all put in with absolute surety, and the clever collage tricks are a means rather than an end. The watercolour techniques are a particular joy; so easy to muddle or botch, they recall here another technical musical comparison: the impeccable fingering of a Casals in rendering a fugue.
Watercolours are a particularly demanding medium, inasmuch as the painter must think through every move in advance and render it with great accuracy at every stage of the work. Much must be accomplished “in one go” before the paint dries, sometimes in a matter of minutes, even seconds. One mistake, either technical or aesthetic, can ruin the whole thing. Many works inevitably go somewhat wrong; and few artists can resist the temptation to discard those that are almost right. One of the ingredients of the success of this show is the artist’s selfcritical selectivity. Her first criterion was obviously the avoidance of repetition. The second was fidelity to a high technical standard. The third seems to have been a conscious attempt to make the show all of a piece by eschewing her earlier, more figurative landscapes that were charming descriptions or symbols of Arab villages rather than landscapes of the mind; for only a few decorative hints of them appear here. In confining this show to the landscapes of her mind (the period covers the last 13 years) Louise Schatz has given us only her very best. And the best of these offer sheer delight, a rare experience these days, when so many shows open windows onto narcissistic minds or narrow souls, or have nothing else to celebrate but the contents of a bathroom cupboard.