One of the first searches I ever did on YouTube was "Calder Circus." I had seen one of the films documenting a performance at the Whitney Museum in the 80s, but not since. Then, the film was a revelation: Here was a grizzled man who looked like a retired construction foreman in his well-worn work shoes, jeans, button down shirt, basically playing with toys. Art was work and serious, Alexander "Sandy" Calder's presence said, but it could also be fun and light-hearted. Art didn't have to be dark and depressing and make you want to slit your wrists. Art could make you smile. He also went to college in Hoboken, NJ, which adjoined Union City, NJ, the city I spent the first 12 years of my life in. This told me an artist could spend some formative time in NJ.
So it's no surprise then that the highlight for me of Alexander Calder: The Paris Years 1926-1933 at the Whitney Museum was seeing the stuff of Calder's Circus again, the film, the figures and sets, the photographs (many taken by Andre Kertesz), the five suitcases that contained all that wire, wood, cloth, string, cork, tubes and god know what else. (Imagine him explaining the contents of those valises to a customs agent now?)
There is a note on a wall or in a catalog or somewhere that states Calder's Circus could be considered an early form of performance art, and I'd have to agree. When you watch the films, it is an unmitigated joy to see a close up of his chubby hands ramming the animal trainer's head into the mouth of the lion, or hopping the sword swallower out of the ring, but you pay closer attention when you see Calder's face roar behind his lion (the lion then takes a crap and Calder's hands clean it up), or when you see him full frame as he works the trapeze artists and deliberates, waiting for the right moment to send one plunging into the net, or Calder the ringmaster blowing his whistle to introduce an act in careless but carefree French. Much of the fun of this circus is seeing the man behind the curtain.
It's wonderful to think of the people who attended Calder's Circus in Paris and New York--Thomas Wolfe, Piet Mondrian, Le Corbusier, Joan Miro, Fernand Leger, Edgar Varese, Man Ray, once Isamu Noguchi provided the music, working the phonograph!--and so many other giants of 20th Century art, crammed in a small smoke-filled apartment or studio, sitting on a bed or on apple crates, laughing and smiling, while Sandy animated his toys, gave them gravelly voice, breathed life into them and through them. The Paris performances often helped Calder pay his rent.
The entire exhibit is joyful and full of surprises. From the wire portraits when you first enter to the mobiles when you are about to exit. Make sure to see "Percussive Instrument" in action. This piece is a type of musical mobile: a small ball suspended from a string on a rod that is counterbalanced by another ball floats randomly among objects such as a wooden crate, glass bottles, and tin cups, hitting some sometimes and just missing some other times. It's a work that reminds me of John Cage. It's a simple but exhilarating piece to see. The ball that collides into the objects tends to get tangled up in a small gong, but if you hover around it long enough, a museum employee with white gloves and knee pads arrives, meticulously untangles it, and gently sends the ball on its random path again.
I went on a Sunday afternoon and the exhibit was swarming with children who laughed and smiled as if they were in a playground. But the adults smiled throughout too. Bring a child, bring a parent, bring a grandparent. It's a lovely gift, bringing a smile to someone's face. You have until February 15 to see this exhibit, but Calder's Circus, the toys and film, are part of the Whitney's permanent collection.
Alexander Calder: The Paris Years 1926-1933
Cirque Calder directed by Carlos Vilardebo
Part 1
Le Grand Cirque Calder directed by Jean Painleve
Special thanks to Meg Lippe, who took me to see Calder's Circus all those years ago.
