Hilma af Klint’s posthumous rise to fame began in the 80s, 40 years after her death, when her paintings were selected for an LA exhibition of spiritual art. Her work has since amassed global admiration, with the 2018 Guggenheim exhibition cementing her reputation as a pioneer of abstract art. Now, debates over the exhibition of Hilma’s work have divided the foundation responsible for its preservation.
Earlier this month, Erik af Klint, the artist’s great grand-nephew and chairman of the foundation, told a Swedish newspaper that Hilma’s work should never have been displayed in public, and should now be sequestered in a private temple. This, he believes, is an accurate reading of the foundation’s original statutes, which state that the paintings should be accessible to “those who seek spiritual knowledge.” His plans contradict Hilma’s own wishes; she requested that her paintings remain hidden for two decades after her death but become public after this point so that her spiritual knowledge could be shared with the world.
Erik’s brutally verbatim interpretation raises the question of how spiritual seekers would be distinguished from ordinary art enjoyers. Taking in art and attempting to assign it some personal meaning could easily be taken as a form of spiritual introspection, even if the viewer does not subscribe to the exact spiritual ideas that Hilma herself did. She drew inspiration from a number of movements in her work, namely Theosophy and Rosicrucianism, but also gathered with the women of her spiritual group “The Five” to study New Testament passages. Theosophical belief in monism, the idea that everything in the universe is one, allegedly imparted to her by a spirit named Amaliel, inspired her series “Paintings for the Temple.” In these paintings, pyramid shapes form staircases leading to perfect golden circles that hint at an afterlife consistent with Christian teachings. Spiral motifs and rainbow spectrums unmistakably convey ideas of unity and connectedness. “The Ten Largest,” Klint’s ode to the interconnected stages of aging, again draws on theosophical concepts of oneness. The paintings representing childhood and youth blossom with floral and egg-like forms, while geometric formations and greater symmetry in the other paintings suggest the balance and harmony learned in adulthood and old age. The impression on the viewer of a life gradually unfolding across the paintings is poignant no matter how little the viewer may know of new-age religion. Preventing the public from taking enrichment from these ideas, when she herself learnt from such a variety of movements, undermines the synthetical essence of her paintings.
For Klint, yellow represented the masculine principle, and blue, which forms the background of the first two childhood paintings in “The Ten Largest,” the feminine. Combined with the recurring blossoming lily motifs, this series situates femininity at the centre of evolution. “Asket” and “Vestal,” her names for the masculine and feminine energies that she felt within herself, feature often, presenting the viewer with a more fluid understanding of gender. These perspectives were not well received by the androcentric art world of the 19th century. Klint’s development of a vocabulary of geometric shapes and spirals until recently was subsequently overlooked, with 20th century painters Kandinsky and Mondrian instead being credited with pioneering this style. Hiding her work from the world again would undo the re-evaluation of her contribution to abstract art, and maintain the sidelining of departures from traditional conceptions of gender.
The other board members of Hilma’s foundation thankfully do not share Erik’s stance, making it difficult for him to enforce his vision. He is committed nonetheless to its pursuit; he recently petitioned for the forced resignation of all board members apart from himself. While his tenacity is commendable, Erik’s disregard of Hilma’s own plans for her work is part of a wider pattern of concealing the contributions of women and limiting control over even their own art.
“Hilma af Klint – exhibition view at Guggenheim” by Ryan Dickey from Evanston, IL / Chicago, United States is licensed under CC BY 2.0.