Miles Ladin's blog
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
Monday, November 3, 2014
Thursday, July 17, 2014
my Robert Frank article appearing in the May issue of the Swiss magazine Aufbau
Robert Frank:
Zurich to New York
“Robert Frank, Swiss, unobtrusive, nice, with that little
camera that he raises and snaps with one hand he sucked a sad poem right out of
America onto film, taking rank among the tragic poets of the world.”
--Jack Kerouac, introduction The Americans, 1959
The Artist Robert Frank, best known for his influential body
of work The Americans, was born in
Switzerland, lives in Canada, and although canonized by institutions such as
the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC, has always positioned himself as an outsider. His unease with the status-quo has been due to both personal circumstance as well
as sensibility. Although embraced with open arms in his
country of origin Switzerland and later
in his adopted home America, these bastions
of 20th century freedom never let Frank completely forget that he was both an immigrant and a
Jew.
Frank was born in
1924 Zurich to Jewish parents who created an affluent upper middle class environment. His
father, by being a foreign national from Germany, placed his son’s nationality
in limbo, despite his mother’s citizenship.
This caveat combined with the simmering European anti-semitism that was
palpable even in Switzerland, created in Frank a sense of being different and
“other”. Despite this undercurrent, he
was completely integrated into the nationalistic youth culture of the day which
included boy scouts and the Swiss Alpine Club.
In 1941, the decree
by Hitler that denied citizenship to all German Jews, placed both Frank and his
father’s safety in jeopardy. In order to
acquire official Swiss citizenship, Frank was asked in written form to prove
that he was both fully assimilated and had absolutely nothing Jewish left
to his character. Seemingly safe in
neutral Switzerland, the reality of
being stateless during WWII, kept the family constantly fearful until the documents
were finally issued, days before the war’s conclusion in 1945.
While waiting for those papers Frank decided to apprentice
at various photographic studios throughout Switzerland, much to the chagrin of
his bourgeois father. Photographs that
he made in his early twenties, show an embrace of nationalistic sentiment and perhaps even the
propagandistic impulse of the time that attempted to cushion the growing threat of Nazi Germany. Although these early pictures of parades,
festivals, grape pickers and landscapes fail to anticipate the formidable mature vision that would, a
decade later, be able to dissect an entire society, they do at times display flags, a subject that would become an important
leitmotif throughout his later work, The Americans.
After the war and once borders were re-opened, Frank had a
desire to view the world beyond the “Enge” of his native country and has stated
“I didn’t know exactly what I wanted but I sure knew what I didn’t want”. The conformity of his early life based on
materialistic concerns of his wealthy family and the insulated culture of a
Switzerland that had been geographically surrounded by genocide, had
contributed to the realization that his destiny would be other than constricted
and prescribed. He traveled first throughout Europe to witness the
aftermath of the war’s destruction and then to the New World, America.
In 1947, Frank’s immediate feeling upon seeing New York City was ebullient:
“Dear Parents, Never
have I experienced so much in one week as here.
I feel as if I’m in a film…Life here is very different than in
Europe. Only the moment counts, nobody
seems to care about what he’ll do tomorrow.”
Indeed, his first visit to the skyscraper clad metropolis
must have seemed both cinematic and a
whirlwind. The famed art director of Harper’s Bazaar, Alexey
Brodovitch snapped the young talent up within the first month of his pounding
the pavement. Shooting for Bazaar, it was around this
time that Frank purchased his first Leica 35mm camera. Moving away from his trusted 6x6 cm twin lens
Rolleiflex, it was this proportionally elongated hand-held format that would become the
signature of his mature vision.
After a few months of employment within the world of fashion
and magazines, Frank wrote home his observation about America: “The only thing
that counts is MONEY. I now understand
people who, after the war, despite the success they had in this country,
returned to Switzerland to live.” Just as the young artist had rejected his
father’s wealth based reality, he
equally felt disdain towards the fast paced world of American consumerism. During this first period in New York, Frank was beginning to feel the isolation and
alienation inherent in the materialistic machine that was postwar America. This realization would soon enough become a
major theme in his series The Americans.
Although a dream come
true for many photographers, both then and now, Frank resigned from Bazaar, six months after starting, choosing instead to pursue a path of greater
artistic freedom. During the next two years, Frank photographed in Latin America and
Europe, focusing on making pictures for personal intent. Around this time, he met his first wife,
the artist Mary Frank, whom he would marry upon his return to New York in 1950. After which the photographer would continue
to travel for another few years, between Europe and America. While still shooting freelance assignments
for magazines, Frank was creating
personal work and honing his distinct vision that would become both critical of
conformity and lyrical with humanism.
In 1954, Frank
applied for a Guggenheim fellowship and was the first European to be given the prestigious
award. His intent as stated in his grant
application was to create a “… record of what one naturalized American
finds to see in the United States that signifies the kind of civilization born
here and spreading elsewhere.”
Crisscrossing America, with his
wife and two young children, in a used
Ford Coupe, the pictures he made document an exploration of the social landscape, on Main Street as well
as out-of-the-way locations. With camera
in hand, Frank shot every strata of society on the street, at the diner, and
all places in between. At a time before
iPhones and global tourism, Frank must have appeared strange with his small Leica and pronounced accent traveling
around in remote and regional locales. He
was often looked on with suspicion and on more than one occasion outright
hostility. He was even put in jail, first in Detroit and then in Arkansa: “I
remember the guy [policeman] took me into the police station, and he sat there
and put his feet on the table. It came out that I was Jewish because I had a
letter from the Guggenheim Foundation. They really were primitive.[The sherrif
said,] “Well, we have to get somebody who speaks Yiddish. They wanted to make a
thing out of it…They put me in jail. It was scary. Nobody knew I was there.”
Despite some
inhospitality and anti-semitism, Frank while on the road, managed to create an
epic tome, unique and expansive in it’s unflinching attention to the melancholic dichotomies found in the America
of the time. Racial divide, economic
disparity, and the existential crisis of the individual were themes covered by
Frank in a stark but poetic language never before seen. The body of work was published in 1958 as
Les Americains, by the French publisher Robert Delpire. Frank initially faced difficulty finding a US publisher due to the
seemingly critical revelations in these American pictures, at a time when the remnants of McCarthyism
still lingered. Grove Press, the famed
alternative imprint, agreed to publish
the US edition in 1959 and included an introduction by the beat writer Jack
Keroac.
Although initially criticized as being too bleak in both
sentiment and artistry, The Americans
soon enough became a seminal classic both in the history of art and with
students of the photographic medium. Having achieved what he felt at the time was
completion in his desire to make still images, Frank turned his attention
towards filmmaking. Included in his cinematic
oeuvre, is the influential work Pull My Daisy, a tour du force of
beatnik artistry, improvisation and collaboration. Perhaps as infamous is the later film he
created for the Rolling Stones that is rarely screened due to lawsuits stemming
from the scandalous nature of the finished work.
By 1970, Robert Frank had notoriety if not fame in a variety
of circles, both as a still photographer and filmmaker. Perhaps feeling the unease of becoming part
of the establishment he retreated with his second wife, artist June Leaf to
Mabou, Nova Scotia, Canada despite already having dual citizenship in America and Switzerland. Several years later, personal tragedy (the death
and mental illness of his children) cemented his desire for a partly hermetic
life in that rural seaside community. His
art, including Polaroids and large format prints, became more self-reflexive and
less worldly but nevertheless equally as arresting as his earlier work.
Throughout his life, Frank has always felt in conflict
towards the status quo; from his early
experiences in Switzerland, through his visual exploration of postwar America,
and the brutal family tragedies he has endured.
Despite being hailed as a maestro
of his chosen mediums, Robert Frank has willfully continued to embrace the mantle of “the
outsider”, that was originally thrust upon him during WWII. This particular pose, however has served the artist well in allowing him to continue
making an art based on an intense observation of his world as well as the continual
reinvention of his craft. In 2006, I was
able to attend a rare interview with the reclusive artist at the New York
Public Library. I was struck that this much lauded and influential photographer
still had an aura of the renegade and seemed to relish his long term ability to
create a life away from the noise that his esteemed reputation awards. At age 89, Robert Frank, the consummate outsider, continues to be the artistic visionary and tragic
poet of our times.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Ascalon Design Family by Miles Ladin ……………. published in the Swiss Magazine, Aufbau
Three Generations of Industrial Designers
Bridge Their Vision From Art Deco to The Contemporary
This past January,
New York’s Lincoln Square Synagogue transferred their sacred scrolls of
the Torah from their old Amsterdam Avenue location, one block south into the
city’s first newly built synagogue in
fifty years. The scrolls now sit in not
just any ark, but one designed by a
family design team whose elevated vision connects the modern Israeli decorative arts movement
of the 1930’s with contemporary aesthetics.
Ascalon Studios has taken advantage of three generations of
visionaries to create a remarkably meditative focus within the main
sanctuary. Modern and light with blond
wood and a full bank of windows, the
room avoids visual representation with the important exception of the Ascalon’s
bronze ark doors. The doors as well as
the actual ark structure were conceived and created by David Ascalon and his
two sons Eric and Brad. A bronze
sculpted olive tree adorns the doors and harkens back to the Ascalon family patriarch, Maurice Ascalon
whose bronze menorahs of the late 1940’s popularized the olive branch motif in
the decorative arts of Israel.
This is not, however, Maurice’s first time around the block
waiving an olive branch at the citizens of New York. Nearly 75 years ago, at the age of 26, Maurice created a
monumental relief sculpture that adorned the façade of the Jewish Palestine
Pavilion at the 1939 New York World’s Fair.
Titled “The Scholar, The Laborer, and The Toiler of the Soil”, this copper
repoussé work comprised of
three figures measuring 14 feet high.
It was also a monumental moment, as the pavilion and sculpture introduced
Americans to the burgeoning modern Jewish state, a decade before the official state
of Israel would come into existence.
This impressive sculpture, which now resides in Chicago’s
Spertus Institute for Jewish Learning and Leadership, symbolizes the Promised Land
while combining the traditions of archaic art with the stylization of the Art Deco
movement. Ascalon first experienced the Art Deco aesthetic while studying art in Western
Europe. Growing up in a Hungarian shtetl where his
early artistic aspirations were shunned by the ultra-religious Chasidic culture, Maurice
decided to leave home at the early age
of 15. He ended up studying at the prestigious Académie Royale des Beaux-Arts in
Brussels before heading to Milan. There
he partnered with Giovanni Rosa and designed some of the early mannequins for La
Rosa Mannequins, a company well known
for creating sophisticated figures for
couture designers. In 1934 Maurice
decide to emigrate to the British Mandate of Palestine, where on a recent visit
he had met his wife and would start his family.
This decision was extremely prescient; Mussolini would enact the Italian
Racial Laws in 1938 and many of Ascalon’s relatives living on the continent
would not survive the impending Holocaust.
In Tel Aviv, Maurice realized his desire to create decorative
metalwork for the masses and founded the Pal-Bell Company. Their wares included
bowls, pitchers, vases, and ashtrays as
well as menorahs and other Judaica. Purchased by
locals and tourists, the objects were also exported to well known
department stores in Europe and the US. According
to seasoned Judaica collector Aviram Paz, the
designs Ascalon produced for his
Pal-Bell company earn him the esteemed title of “father of modern
Judaica Art Deco” At times the styling looked towards European
decorative artisans such as René Lalique but the brass and bronze utilitarian
objects also convey a unique aesthetic, perhaps reflecting the new found freedom of the Promised
Land.
Their most well known design that showcased this aesthetic was
their 1948 “oil lamp” menorah decorated with twin olive leaf branches, the symbol for the new state of Israel. One of these iconic menorahs resides in the
permanent collection of New York’s Jewish Museum. Another
hallmark of the company, came about when
Ascalon developed a chemical process to mimic the green patina that art objects
traditionally only achieve with age. Through
Ascalon’s experimentation and application,
this chemically induced look known as “verdigris”, became an important stylistic
look in the modern Israeli decorative arts movement. Both the
olive branch motif and the “verdigris” look were soon adopted by rival designers
with varying degrees of success.
After spending two decades in Israel producing his designs
as well as participating in the Israeli War effort by having his factory both design and produce munitions, Maurice decided to emigrate with his family to
the United states in 1956. In the next
two decades, while in New York and Los Angeles, Maurice became a master silversmith
creating Torah crowns and other objects for synagogues.
He also spent these years passing down his knowledge to
university students as well as his own children. His son Adir was a well respected surrealist
painter and sculptor who collaborated with the famed Mexican muralist David
Alfaro Siqueiros. But it was Maurice’s son
David who chose to follow in his footsteps, creating sculpture, mosaics, and stained glass
for houses of worship and other public institutions. The
stained glass, that David has been producing since he partnered with his father
in the founding of Ascalon Studios in 1977, are modern and for the most part
abstract. These designs often accentuate
the spiritual by creating especially ample streams of light that flow through the colored glass.
Like his Father, David Ascalon is also a sculptor, creating both small table top art objects and
larger pieces. The larger installations
include memorials such as the iconic Holocaust memorial he created in
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The 15 foot
sculpture that was installed along the Susquehanna River in 1994, consists
of a series of stainless steel poles
entwined with a rusty-looking serpentine shaped form that references barbed
wire. The power of the piece is
singular, due to the form as well as the specific contrast in metal materials.
A decade after its installation, the memorial became the
subject of heated controversy within the
community of Harrisburg as well as the American arts community. Due to
an underhanded supplier of the original rust colored material, the barbed wire aspect of the piece was substandard and
needed replacement. Instead of allowing
Mr. Ascalon to do the necessary repairs on his work of art, the Harrisburg
Parks and Recreation Department, through the advice of a contentious lawyer, decided to have a third party restorer do the
work. Besides replacing the barbed wire
aspect with a shiny silver metal that detracted from the original artist’s
intent, Ascalon’s signature was burnished off.
The incident prompted Ascalon Studios to assert the U.S. Visual
Artists Rights Act of 1990, a federal copyright law allowing artists to protect
their work from neglect or destruction based on what is called “moral rights”. David’s son Eric, who had recently retired
from practicing law, in order to run his father’s business, acted as co-council in the litigation. The case was settled out of court resulting
in the appropriate restoration of the work by David Ascalon as well as restored
credit. This case, one of only a handful
of VARA lawsuits on the books, is still studied by law experts and through
online seminars.
Besides the business and legal acumen Eric Ascalon
brings to Ascalon Studios, he often contributes in the development of concepts for the various
commissions. This was the case for the Lincoln Square ark, where he
joined his father David and brother Brad in the creation of perhaps the first innovative liturgical industrial
design object that celebrates 21st century Jewry. The ark doors seamlessly slide open into the larger
curved surrounding structure. Besides
the bronze doors, whose material was used in the Tabernacle of Moses, the structure combines Jerusalem stone as well
as Cedar of Lebanon, a wood used in the First Temple.
Brad Ascalon’s contribution to the ark is substantial and no
surprise due to his own rising star in the contemporary industrial design
scene. He specifically conceptualized and
engineered the curved form of the ark.
Although Brad collaborates on some
Ascalon Studios projects, he has his own eponymous studio and a resolute
commitment to contemporary furniture design. Brad currently has a chair produced by Bernhardt Design, a
company whose exhibit at next month’s International Furniture Fair in New York
is highly anticipated. Amongst his impressive accolades, he is one of
only two Americans ever to have designed
for the upscale French furniture brand Ligne Roset. In addition, his “Atlas” tables are carried by Design Within
Reach which also carries his Carrara
marble menorah, a modernist nod to the legacy his grandfather Maurice (who died
in 2003) has provided . Whether looking at this minimalist
sculptural form, his father’s evocative
stained glass, or Maurice Ascalon’s hammered copper 1939 masterpiece, it is clear that the design genius found in
the work is truly a family affair.