Saturday, September 1, 2012

Le cheval

Positioned atop a pedestal in the window corner of the Kemper Art Museum's north entrance, Raymond Duchamp-Villon's Le cheval (The Horse) hangs in (un)suspended motion. Its front legs sculpted in a forward thrusting crank, a powerful gesticulation that results from the orbit of its sun and planet gears. Connected by two reciprocating arms, a large cage gear in the torso of the animal powers the legs and rears the body forward. Its base is as solid and durable as an anvil and provides a support which keeps the machine level and prevents the mammal from running off its track. The head is fixed in a forward-facing position ready to plough through its assigned labors. 

Duchamp-Villon grew up in an era where the horse was making way for the horse-less carriage and the steam engine was slowly towing farm equipment across the field with a belly full of hot coals rather than a belly full of oats. The Industrial Revolution was full steam ahead and the large quadrupeds that labored to help produce our goods and haul them to market were becoming more and more obsolete. They were being replaced by the iron beasts that for centuries had only lived in man's imagination and were finally able to break forth in the ironworks and factories of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Taking a good long look at the changing world around him, Duchamp-Villon tried to merge the idea of labor-animal and labor-machine while the two still coexisted. He is quoted in a letter as saying, "The power of the machine imposes itself upon us and we can scarcely conceive living bodies without it."

Le cheval is one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum and after doing a little research I learned more about its history. The mold and original plaster cast were created by the Duchamp-Villon in 1914, either shortly before or while he was serving as a medical officer in World War I. Unfortunately, in October 1918 he contracted blood poisoning and died in a military hospital. Le cheval many never have come to fruition if it weren't for Raymond's three artistic siblings, who were determined that his creative ideas would live on. Jacques Villon, Marcel Duchamp, and Suzanne Duchamp-Crotti took the abandoned plaster, enlarged it, and cast several bronzes in 1930-31. There are two versions of this piece, the enlarged sculpture, which is 39 3/8 x 24 x 36in., and the original plaster size, which is 16 1/2 x 13 5/8 x 12 1/2 in. At the Kemper we have the original plaster-sized sculpture. 


When I first learned the history of the piece I was very touched by the familial bond that helped preserve and produce the sculpture. I love the concept of horse as machine and Duchamp-Villon's endeavor to converge animal and engine. It moves, it actually moves. I don't know if the images provided here are enough to convey that, but I feel like it is progressing forward all the time, through time, and timeless. That's what I mean with my little made-up word in the first paragraph: (un)suspended motion. Technically the piece is motionless, but it rests in such perfect harmony with the still universe that it is actually in an eternal state of rotating gears and galloping legs. 

My goodness, have I gone overboard with the romantic idioms or what? What can I say? I really do love this piece. And it goes much deeper than a little girl's love of ponies. Well okay, it is a little girl's love of ponies combined with an adult understanding of artistic expression.

It is my fondness for Le cheval which caused me to feel a bit bothered by how others at the Kemper have been presenting it. On at least three occasions, I have overheard staff portray the piece in the context of "This is Marcel Duchamp's brother, who is very important for his original idea of Readymades in art." No offense to Marcel, but why don't they just leave him to his chess and focus on his brother; talk more about Raymond's contributions to art before his early demise instead? The sculpture stands very well on its own and does not need his brother's urinal to emphasize its artistic importance.

The artwork is often categorized as part of the cubist movement, and it does have many qualities that fit that classification. But after some reflection, I feel the piece is far more innovative than most realize. I would dare to state that Le cheval is quite possibly an early forerunner and experimental form of kinetic sculpture. Though the piece is literally solid and motionless, Duchamp-Villon seems to have been playing at motion with his depiction of the horse's many moving parts. In the early 20th century the idea of sculptures that move was a new one that was idealistically placed close to home for Raymond. Just a year earlier, in 1913, his more-famous brother, Marcel, had created what is credited as the first kinetic sculpture, Bicycle Wheel, which was part of his series of Readymades. Had Marcel and Raymond discussed moving art? Was Raymond trying to prove to his brother that art doesn't have to literally move to depict active motion? Had he lived, would Raymond have evolved the concept using actual gears? The answers are unknown, but I think it's something to consider. It appears that someone at the Kemper also sees a kinetic connection, unless it is by pure chance that Le cheval is placed in between the two wind-powered sculptures, Bayonets Menacing a Flower and Five Rudders, of Alexander Calder.


Le cheval is comprised of the multitude of angles that typify cubism, the engine parts of the industrial giants, the equine beasts that bore agricultural burden, family love, and the contradiction of an object simultaneously projecting potential and kinetic energy... and it's a pony. Yes, it is definitely one of my favorite pieces in the whole museum.

What do you think of the idea of a motionless kinetic sculpture? Can I make (un)suspended motion a word?

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