… yes, we, too, made it to Ateneum today to see some great works of the great Amedeo Modigliani.
Needless to say I was thrilled before the exhibition, Modligani (and his friend of the times Anna Achmatova) belongs to my favourite artist of all times. I was expecting portraits, at least one landscape picture from the South of France, some reclining nudes, elegant ladies and more portraits of fine men.
I was disappointed. About 2/5 of the artwork is not by Modigliani but by his contemporaries. I would understand a few pieces put into comparison to or to contrast with Modigliani, but I felt like. In order to support my claim, a lot of room was taken by objects unrelated to Modigliani’s artwork, but more to life in Paris in early 20th century and destinies of some other artists of that time. Roll-ups, poster reproductions, multimedia presentations. No video about Modigliani or his work though. The whole experience was tainted by its mere insufficiency, just like artist’s own life was tainted by the menace of ill health.
And unfortunately, not too many Modigliani’s pieces of importance were exhibited. No bait. No climax. No soul. Two reclining nudes, quite a lot of portraits out of which a fan would recognise maybe two, a few sketches. Result of a limited budget and diverse barriers in gallery lending contracts I’d say. But if you are aware of these barriers, why not curate a topic- or time-based exhibition (just like the Inspired by Japan exhibition or whatever it was called, that was awesome! A great mosaic of Japanese influence.) rather than disappoint crowds lured in by big names?
Come if you have a Museokortti, it would be a shame not to come. It was not bad as such, but I would personally not like to spend 13€ (or 15€ with voluntary 2€ “donation” charge should donating 13€ not satisfy you) and get this experience. Guess I’m spoiled by London again where you are charged 12 pound and over for an exhibition ticket but you get so much out of the visit.
I felt left down. So much that I did not even feel like taking pictures, and it was a shame because of course my favourite of all works was not reproduced as a postcard.