Morandi: The quiet voice of stillness

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Robert Radford contemplates the gentle genius of an Italian master at London's Estorick Collection

Giorgio Morandi is revealed as one of the select few modernist artists truly at home in the practice of etching, in the current exhibition at the Estorick Collection in North London,  ‘Giorgio Morandi: Lines of Poetry’, curated in collaboration with the Galleria d’Arte Maggiore, Bologna. Morandi has long held a particular appeal for post-war generations of abstract painters, and later, for serial artists, who recognized in his work certain ideals of  ‘pure painting’ that they saw as developing out of the originating example of Cézanne.

This show does much to justify a claim for that notion to be extended to embrace the idea of  ‘pure etching’.  Yet this concept of purity, in the sense of its concern for aesthetic values alone, relating solely to the means and possibilities of the medium itself, is not so clear cut in Morandi’s case (even though it was a position to which he himself readily subscribed).  For, it could be argued, what is more traditional than the subject matter of the table-top still life? 

Similarities have after all often been noted between Morandi’s compositions and those of the 18th-century French artist, Chardin.  But it will take only a little consideration to see that the historical attributes of the still life subject – precise expression of the contrasting textures, colours and surfaces of the grouped elements, let alone the narrative and often moralizing content that was generally attached to the theme, are effectively absent from Morandi’s practice.  Yes, subtleties of distinction between adjacent elements are superbly realized but only in terms of the counterplay of form and colour and tone. Apparently, he encouraged dust to accumulate over the set of treasured bottles, vases and jugs in his studio to which he constantly returned as prompts for his paintings and prints; the dust masked their particular characteristics.      

The other subject that appears widely in his etchings is that of landscape, and here it is necessarily harder to discount the degree to which his precisely framed fragments of countryside impart a level of poetic expression.  They are generally set in the Grizzana countryside, where he would take regular recreational breaks, not far from Bologna, the Northern Italian city where he was born and passed his working life.  Typically, they reflect the cultivated pastures and wooded copses, backed by curvaceous hills, often in intimate association with houses and barns, positioned to show off their abstract qualities of wall and window.  Occasionally, they may depict the inglorious, unnoticed spaces on the outskirts of cities, anonymous workshops, factory chimneys or even a tennis court.  The scenes are carefully composed and possess a gravitas that might well be termed metaphysical in its effect.  They offer the viewer an invitation to linger, precisely because of, rather than despite the limited scale and monochrome tonality of the etching format.    

Etching was not highly considered or even particularly remunerative in Italy when Morandi was a student and, indeed, he had to teach himself its techniques with the help of manuals. This turned out to be beneficial in freeing him to develop his own approaches to method and aesthetic.  Even though a wide range of concept and treatment are made evident in the work on show, there is always a significant lightness of touch, plates are not overworked – being apparently free from corrections – or overly dense in hatching or inking.

What comes as a surprise bonus to the etchings displayed is a handful of watercolours – still lifes and landscapes, done in his later years, which possess a delicacy of tinting and a finely judged minimality.   A tedious critic once wrote, back in 1931, that ‘Morandi suffers from a simplicity that borders on poverty’. The absurdity of this remark and the appreciation of the virtues of restraint will not be wasted on anyone who is prepared to give this work the attention it deserves.

An intriguing coda to the exhibition is provided by a set of Polaroid images and digital prints by the photographer, Nino Migliori.  In  ‘Imagined  Landscapes: The  Places of Morandi’,  a gesture of homage, he has depicted the same Grizzana landscape and has come up with an intriguingly sympathetic equivalent in mood and format.

The show is part of the gallery’s 15th anniversary celebrations. The gallery has in that time established an enviable reputation for its promotion of interest in Modern Italian art via its permanent collection and through special exhibitions like this one. It is a show to inspire and instruct printmakers and print enthusiasts alike, but it also for anyone who feels the need for a refuge from art that shouts too loud.