Description
inscribed with signature polished bronze Executed in 1948 and cast in 1949. Provenance Collection of the artist Thence by descent to the present owner Exhibited São Paulo, Museu de Arte Moderna, MARIA: Esculturas, 1950 São Paulo, Primeira Bienal Internacional de São Paulo, 1951 New York, André Emmerich Gallery, Maria, The Surrealist Sculpture of Maria Martins, March 19-April 18, 1998, pp. 30-31, 33, 38, 84, no. 24, illustrated in color London, Tate Modern; New York, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Surrealism: desire unbound, September 20, 2001-May 12, 2002, pp. 296-7, fig. 286, illustrated in color, p. 333 Literature cf: André Breton and Michel Tapié, Les Statues Magiques de Maria, Paris, Galerie René Drouin, August, 1948, illustration of the plaster model Retrospective, Rio de Janeiro, Museu de Arte Moderna, May 1956, illustration in group photograph Francis M. Naumann, "Marcel & Maria," Art in America, New York, April 2001, p. 108, illustrated in color The Brazilian sculptor Maria Martins?better known professionally as simply "Maria," as she insisted upon being referred to in all matters pertaining to her artistic life?is one of the most important sculptors of the Surrealist period, singled out by André Breton in 1948 as the "shining star" of post-war art. Her first major exhibition was held in 1941 at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., but it was quickly followed by a series of solo exhibitions at various galleries in New York, concluding with a retrospective at the Galerie René Drouin in Paris in 1948. The works she showed in these exhibitions were?without exception?strikingly powerful sculptures in wood, plaster and bronze that, for the most part, drew their inspiration from the folklore of Brazil, and, in particular, from a lifelong fascination with the jungles of the Amazon. In 1942, she gave one of her bronze sculptures the simple but revealing title Don't Forget I Come From the Tropics (private collection, Rio de Janeiro). Indeed, in Huitième Voile or Eighth Veil?one of the largest and most important sculptures by Maria from the Surrealist period?she has depicted the body of a young woman (her daughter Anna Maria served as its model when she was a teenager), but she has taken the liberty of distorting the head, hands and feet in a way that suggests their metamorphosis into grotesque plant forms, as if the vegetative powers of the Amazon have physically invaded and overtaken the power and strength of an otherwise healthy human figure. But the title of this work reveals a source in Christian iconography, one that can be traced to a plaster sculpture that Maria made ten years earlier entitled Salome. In the earlier work, Salome sits on a flat surface with her legs spread apart, clothed only by one of her famous seven veils, which covers very little as it lies draped across her thigh. Inscribed across the foreportion of the base are Salome's memorable words: "Je veux la tête de Joahanian" ("I want the head of John the Baptist.") Salome's positioning is almost identical to the figure in the Eighth Veil, but in the bronze, the figure is conspicuously missing her veil; if Salome was known for her Dance of the Seven Veils, then it would seem reasonable to speculate that Maria's allusion to an "eighth veil" must refer to the tragic result of her lascivious dance: the head of a man who?in accordance with Oscar Wilde's famous interpretation of the event?she subconsciously loved. Sources in Maria's earlier work may have inspired the positioning of the figure and subject matter of Eighth Veil, but events that took place in her personal life might have been an even more direct source of inspiration. Maria was married to Carlos Martins, a diplomat who, in 1940s, served as Brazilian Ambassador to the United States. In the evenings, Maria was expected to play the role of the ideal diplomat's wife; she was often called upon to serve as hostess at a variety of social functions, greeting dignitaries and important guests at the embassy in Washington. But she spent most of her days working as a sculptor, converting the upper floor of the ambassador's residence in Washington into a fully-equipped sculpture studio. By the winter of 1941-42, she wanted to begin showing her work in New York, so she rented a three-bedroom duplex apartment on Park Avenue at 58th Street in Manhattan, quickly filling one of its large rooms with examples of her Surrealist sculpture. The apartment was conveniently located near the center of Manhattan's most active gallery district, where most of her shows in these years were held. It may have been at one of the openings of her exhibitions that she met the celebrated French artist Marcel Duchamp, who, like many Europeans in this period, moved to New York during the years of World War II. It would not be long before her friendship with Duchamp progressed into a more involved relationship, an affair that few people at the time knew anything about (since Maria was still married). In retrospect, it can now be seen that their intimate association affected?in equally profound but very different ways?the development of their respective artistic productions. In 1946, Duchamp began the Etant donnés, a large-scale environmental tableau that would be shown to absolutely no one except Maria. The work would not be placed on public view until after the artist's death in 1968. This last major work features a completely nude female figure lying on a bed of broken branches, her legs spread-eagled and her sex conspicuously visible though two peepholes in an old wooden door. From viewing the work alone, it is impossible to determine the identity of the woman, for her head is bent back and fades out of view, but we know that Maria served as the model for the first sketch that Duchamp made for this work in 1946 (see illustration). In the final tableau, the positioning of the figure is similar to that in Maria's Don't Forget I Come from the Tropics, where a headless female form lies on her back, her arms outstretched, her hands transformed into claws, and her head dropped back and out of sight. It is hard to imagine that such a striking similarity in composition is purely coincidental. Indeed, as I have argued elsewhere, since Maria's sculpture predates the Duchamp sketch by some five years, it could be said that Maria influenced Duchamp, a rare instance where this highly influential artist allowed himself to be inspired by the work of another creative being. In Maria's Eighth Veil, on the other hand, the figure strikes a pose that is strikingly similar to the nude figure in the Etant donnés, which demonstrates that Maria, too, was clearly influenced by Duchamp, an artistic exchange that?considering the nature of their relationship at the time?was a logical and poetic byproduct of their secret romance. Francis M. Naumann, April 2002
