"Inspiration for Disney Animation: French Decorative Arts" was recently exhibited at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The exhibition features 150 arts and crafts and works on paper, as well as 40 Pieces of European Decorative Arts from the 18th Century, showing how Disney's animated films and theme parks were influenced by European art. For example, gothic revival architecture in Cinderella, medieval story backdrops in Sleeping Beauty, rococo art in Beauty and the Beast, and so on. Of course, this contrast also highlights a tendency among Americans to "take" European ideas and then make them a little worse.
It's a typical holiday exhibition: informative, family-friendly, and without too many questions.
The exhibition traces in a nuanced way the different elements of the European aesthetic movement. Since the late 1930s, about 600 Disney animators have brought these elements into films: French Rococo in Beauty and the Beast (1991); Gothic Revival architecture in Cinderella (1950), late medieval and early Dutch art styles in Sleeping Beauty (1959), and 19th-century Germanic Romanticism in Snow White (1937). All of these stories originated in Europe, and Disney visualized them. At the same time, the idea of European art is not as jumpy as the one that staged "Hamlet" in Manhattan during the millennium.
Concept art by Evand Earl for Sleeping Beauty (1959).
As the title of the exhibition suggests, many elements in Disney's animation come from 18th-century France, including some exquisite gilded bronze candlesticks and ceramic statues, among others. Of course, there are also German, Dutch, and British crafts in the above four films. Most of the crafts in the exhibition come from the Metropolitan's own collection. The exhibition featured 150 arts and crafts, works on paper, and footage from the Walt Disney Animation Research Library, the Disney Archive, the Disney Collection, and the Walt Disney Family Museum. These exhibits can make the audience feel immersed, as if falling into a commercial version of Alice in Wonderland.
Conceptual sketch in Beauty and the Beast, Kevin Lima, 1991
Beauty and the Beast is based on a Rococo fairy tale by French screenwriter Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve, and was later widely circulated by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont. It is worth mentioning that the Frenchman Jean Cocteau also made a popular film for it in 1946. None of the previous three versions featured anthropomorphic clocks and teapots with strange British accents, and as a result, later Disney triumphed. The latter version owes its flourishing to the novel Sofa, a moral story, written in 1742 by the French novelist Prosper Jolyot de Crébillon, which tells the story of a man punished for dishonesty, whose soul is trapped in a couch and cannot be relieved until he witnesses a true declaration of affection.
Concept art of a character in Beauty and the Beast, Peter J. Hall
Exhibits from the collection of the Metropolitan Museum, The French Clock
As seen in the exhibition, Disney's animators did not know the source of the above inspiration, but instead attributed the idea to accidents. The Metropolitan Museum of Art attempted to lay the groundwork for this section with red velvet sofas dating back to the 1760s to show its rococo roots. There is nothing wrong with admiring the ornate sofas and ornate decorations from 1775 in the exhibition hall. At the same time, as can be seen in the exhibition hall, these objects are closely related to the tableware duo in Beauty and the Beast, Mrs. Teapot (transformed into a teapot) and her son Azi (transformed into a teacup). In fact, we learned that it was impossible for Disney animators to present Rococo's zigzag lines in animation, so they opted for a more neutral style of expression.
A design of a teapot in Beauty and the Beast, artist Chris Sanders borrowed from the French Rococo
The Metropolitan Museum of Art houses a lidded teapot made at the Meissen Factory, circa 1719-1730
The exhibition was organized by Wolf Burchard, curator of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The exhibits reflect Rococo optimism, with excessive decoration, soft tones and curved shapes evoking youth and lust. Disney flattened it. Disney's treatment undoubtedly brought better returns than Rococo art, while the aristocracy that used Rococo art was very decadent, leading to the later French Revolution.
The exhibition uses a rhyming display, for example, the buffet still life painting of Alexandre Fran ois Desportes (1661-1743) corresponding to the song "Be Our Guest" from Beauty and the Beast. In the exhibition hall, the clearest and most influential picture of Disney is undoubtedly Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria, a historicist dessert built in the 19th century to commemorate Richard Wagner. The building is also the heart of Disney parks around the world and a symbol of many iterations. Surprisingly, Neuschwanstein Castle only made a brief appearance at the end of the exhibition.
The vulture in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, created by Disney studio artists, was presented to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1938
Disney movies are not a package sale of European art, but are influenced, or inspired, by European art. But the exhibition may reflect that Disney's work is restrained and implicitly "plagiarized." These works turned works from art history into animation. Of course, "plagiarism" is not shameful. Rubens' work proves this.
Still, with or without intention, this exhibition perfectly shows a tendency among Americans. Americans tend to "take" European ideas and then make them a little worse. This is also a tendency of Disney. Disney took "European ideas and made them even worse."
Cinderella (1950), Mary Blair's conceptual art. These designs are the result of studies of art and architecture under the regime of Napoleon III.
Cinderella background artwork, artist of disney studio, 1950
The most interesting exhibits in the showroom are the disney exhibits, including the concept drawings of the famous animator Mary Blair, a brightly colored, almost abstract gouache painting; the richly layered background painting of animator Eyvind Earle; the evocative pastels of animator Mel Shaw; and the gorgeous sketches of Kay Nielsen. Eventually, however, these sketches were largely discarded or flattened. Compared to the final Disney finished product, these sketches are completely unfamiliar. At this point, one can't help but fantasize that if Disney stays true to the vision of these artists, these films may become richer.
Does Disney have output art? This is not really a problem that plagues the exhibition. The exhibition insisted on printing in large prints, presumably to prevent people from coming to criticize. We know from the exhibition that in 1938, when the Metropolitan Museum of Art accepted a film of the animated film Snow White, which Disney had given, Walt Disney shrewdly stated that many of the artists whose works were collected by the museum could become excellent Disney employees. Arguably America's largest employer of artists, pretended not to understand anything, "Take Leonardo da Vinci, a great experimental master who could have worked for us as he pleased... But don't ask me anything about art, I don't know anything about it. ”
Showroom scene
As it was then, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is still in the documentary Disney, as if Disney were still a pioneering animation studio rather than the world's largest entertainment I.P company.
Of course, Disney sparked controversy a long time ago. A better question is whether an important art institution offering exhibitions to a multibillion-dollar business can better serve the public. Of course, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is allowed to host such exhibitions every year, as well as charity balls in fashion categories.
When you come to the exhibition hall of European sculpture, it is difficult to say who it was all for. Devotees of Art Deco may reject dilution of its form. These decorative arts are also exhibited in other halls of the museum without commercial interference. What is doubtful is whether Disney's creators are really immersed in it, whether they have a Rococo dream in their hearts.
Faustina Bordoni and Fox, ceramic ornaments, Germany, circa 1743
"Children believe what you tell them, and they don't question it," Jean Cocteau wrote in the preface to Beauty and the Beast. Of course, innocence also helps here. I saw a little girl in a tulle ballet dress trying to climb through the glass window of a Meissen porcelain figurine made by Johann Joachim K ndler. She was particularly fascinated by things, a fox companion and a singer who played the harpsichord. She had a great time.
The exhibition will be on view until March 6.
(This article is compiled from The New York Times and is written by an art critic.) ）