Apart from the massive tarot exhibit, the other one I was really looking forward to was Anselm Kiefer’s Le Alchimiste. Obviously the topic grabbed my attention at once — the alchemical women from history and how they fought to share in the knowledge and learning of their times despite the very real barriers from discouragement to death.
The day dawned bright and hot as I made my way down toward the Duomo, where unfortunately most of the tourists also gathered. Hot, it was hot. Only May and so hot. Fortunately, I was early enough that it wasn’t so bad but oof. Despite the website saying the Palazzo opened at 9, I had to wait until 10 to get in (maybe the Palazzo offices open at 9, the exhibits did not). As in much of Europe (and the UK) accessibility in old buildings remains a struggle so I climbed up the hot steps to the exhibit.
The exhibition was above the Museo del Novecento and the outdoor stairs were baking in the morning heat. But up I climed and stepped inside and at once my breath was taken away. The massive scale definitely inspired awe. The pieces filled the room, the Sala delle Cariatidi — itself full of images of women that bore the destruction of the second world war. It was a poignant location and the enormous works filled the hall. The colours were stunning: greens, browns, blues and then reckless splashes of gold. Some images were the women, some the natural products appropriated for alchemical work. Plants and flowers, rocks, sticks, the golden sun. Some of the women demure and thoughtful, others naked, contorted, suffering–offering a grim reminder of the fates of many executed for heresy as they sought to know the secrets of the natural world.
As I walked around I couldn’t help noticing that everyone else there seemed to be women, too. A depressingly familiar experience when viewing art that celebrated women. About halfway through I noticed something else: Kiefer was repeating images and motifs. The same figure would represent two or three different women. They weren’t even individuals. Maybe he wanted to emphasise the sameness of their fates over time but it felt as if he had done a lot of research but didn’t have enough ideas to honour each woman. Maybe I’m a cynic. I also thought about those naked and contorted bodies. Would these women who fought so hard to share knowledge and skill want to be depicted in their most abject form? I felt a little dispirited by the end. Maybe that was intentional, too? I don’t know. I am glad I went. I do think of that first rush of awe.
But I was glad I went to the Metafisica exhibition afterward which buoyed my spirits enormously. Check out the video and let me know what you think. Watch it on a big screen!