A MONA Moment It has been referred
to as one of the most beautiful books ever produced in America. The seven volumes
of John James Audubon's Royal Octavo edition of his Birds of America contains
500 hand painted lithographs of the most exquisite quality. In a set recently
acquired by the Museum of Nebraska Art, we will briefly examine one of these
prints of the Barn or Chimney Swallows.
As in so many of
the Audubon designs, there is a sureness, a &mess of composition combined with
a fluid, graceful line. Here the swallows are perched atop their nest, an inverted
cone of gray mud with delicate streamers of dried grass dangling out from its
sides. The nest is securely fixed to the end of a rafter in a barn or a shed.
Every detail of
coloration is carefully executed. The brownish gray rafter has a rich hint of
pink, distinctly different from the gray mud of the nest with its subtle, orange/brown
highlights. In any case, the rafter butts against a black shadow on the right
of the nest creating a neutral border between the two gray color zones, the
dark shadowed modeling reinforcing the round, conical shape of the nest.
To say that this
image of the nestled birds is the apotheosis of a sweet, watchful tenderness
is on understatement. But before we get carried away by our feelings we marvel
at the way Audubon has formed the composition of these birds--a brilliant composite
image suggesting both flight and repose. The swallow on the right clings to
the nest with its right claw, its breast and delicate patterns and structure
of its wing feathers in profile against the surrounding negative white space
of the page, cleverly suggesting the bird in flight. Elegant, streamlined shafts,
its tail feathers sweep our eyes up to the delicate gray layering of the wing
feathers. Its eyes and head look back off of the page, spreading its wings,
perhaps readying itself for flight against a predator or other threat.
Just below and
to the right, the other bird rests on a horizontal plane on top of the nest,
giving us a side view, suggesting the very sleek, compact shape of the swallow.
The deft foreshortening of its head in perspective seems utterly three dimensional,
thrusting, off of the page toward us. How does Audubon achieve this striking,
unnerving effect? It is a lesson we thought appeared for the first time with
Cezanne two generations later: the use of color and shading to suggest dept.
The color of this swallow's head is richer, more intense, than that of its partner
just behind. This striking, tonal difference in color saturation creates an
optical illusion of depth, a palpable sense of distance between the two swallows'
heads.
There is another
striking element in the compositional relationship between these two swallows.
In a real sense, they are designed as on their outlines seamlessly blend into
one another, achieving a sense of familiar oneness. Audubon has been frequently
criticized by ornithologists for this kind of anthropomorphic suggestion of
human traits in his non-human subjects. But Audubon was foremost an artist,
and now and again allowed for a recognizable, universal sentiment to creep into
his work--one which had the capacity to captivate his audience, enlarging their
feelings and affection for these wonderful gifts of nature.
Audubon's Barn Swallows
By Ron Roth
Director
Museum of Nebraska Art
