Meret Oppenheim at the Guggenheim - New York, New York - Review of Exhibitions - Brief Article

Art in America, Feb, 1997 by Eleanor Heartney

Despite her strong name recognition, Meret Oppenheim (1913-1985) remains an elusive figure. A strong case can be made that she was a protofeminist, but her assertions of independence are undermined by Man Ray's photographs of her as the quintessential Surrealist muse. In one of the best known, she appears as a dreamy nude, leaning on the wheel of a printing press whose handle protrudes from her genital area. At the same time, the Surrealist label doesn't quite fit -- fur-lined tea cup notwithstanding -- given the more abstract tendencies of her later work.

But perhaps the primary reason Oppenheim is difficult to place is that art history has immortalized her for a single work, that tea cup, which she made for a Surrealist group exhibition when she was only 23. Its great fame largely paralyzed her during the years which ought to have been her most productive, while all but blotting out historical acknowledgment of her subsequent career. This retrospective exhibition gives us a fuller picture of her accomplishments. She comes across as an artist with a troubled sense of female identity as well as a sly wit, whose best works tweak stereotypes of femininity and its hold on the Surrealist imagination.

Not all her works are undiscovered masterpieces. Some are heavy-handed, for example a 1975 bronze sculpture titled Six Clouds on a Bridge, in which clouds are translated into thuddingly solid forms which suggest trees, flowers and other organic features. And while Oppenheim's lack of formal training is largely an advantage in three-dimensional works, where she combines unexpected materials and forms with effective abandon, her paintings are less successful. The flatness and awkward brushwork of the later abstract compositions are not saved by literal or poetic titles.

As a result, the exhibition suggests that Oppenheim is best remembered for her sculptures. There are some wonderful things here. The Couple (1956) consists of two lace-up women's shoes attached at the toe -- allowing for interpretations of female bonding or female bondage. Primeval Venus (1962) is a terra-cotta vessel with a swelling feminine contour topped with a spray of pubic-hair-like straw. Genevieve (1971) is a haunting female icon composed of an upright, weathered board notched at each side to make room for a pair of broken wooden poles which become outstretched, beseeching arms.

The catalogue essays emphasize Oppenheim's struggles with the prevailing sexism of her times and her circle. One senses that this problem was internal as well as external. The artist appears to have been deeply ambivalent about her role as muse and as creator, a fact which may have contributed to her debilitating bouts of depression. This fuller view of her work will not markedly alter our conception of the period or the movements with which she is associated. But it certainly does take us "Beyond the Teacup", as the exhibition's title promises, in our understanding of this fascinating woman.

(From the Guggenheim [June 28-Oct. 9, 1996], and the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago [Nov. 2, 1996-Jan. 11, 1997], the exhibition travels to the Bass Museum of Art, Miami Beach (Feb. 6-Apr. 6] and the Joslyn Art Museum, Omaha [May 10-July 6].)