egg

Today in class we discussed Constantin Brancusi's The Newborn, done in 1915, as part of our greater lecture on modernism. Brancusi is depicting a crying newborn, the carved arch representing the furrowed brow and nose, and the ovoid shape the gaping mouth. He chose a medium that wasn't popular in the early twentieth century, but that essentializes a newborn - clean, white marble without veining or coloration, symbolizing the infant's innocence and newness to the world. This is visually emblematizing a cry, a primordial scream, an aural pronouncement of needs. Newborns require immediately what human beings need throughout their life: nourishment, shelter and love. The egg shape of the sculpture also reminds the viewer of regeneration, of new life, of potential. It reminds me of this Etruscan sarcophagus. The reclining lady originally held an egg, the symbol of her hope for a life beyond this one and a regeneration of her soul. An egg is a small universe, a microcosm holding all the potential for life. Encased budding promise.


Brancusi's scream brings to mind another modern scream, Edvard Munch's infamous and oft-stolen painting, The Scream of 1893. Munch's painting is frightening, the figure ghoulish, and the composition confining. Diagonal lines trapping the viewer, swirling blood reds in the sky, no room to breathe. The figure is shrieking, fainting, without the attention of the other couple along the boardwalk. Munch may have been commenting on the modern condition, the wearing of masks in public, the confining social constraints of the adult world. Or maybe the cultural and political ills of fin-de-siècle Europe. Here the scream is similarly primordial, but not innocent like The Newborn. This scream is terrified, and perhaps the results of the figure's own doing. Is he crying for help? For attention? What needs are not being met? It's as if his world has come crashing down. What's interesting is that his own head is also pear or egg shaped, with a blanched arching crown. It houses a hopeless microcosm of fears and nightmares. It makes me think of all the social and mental constructs that build from childhood to adulthood, that shape the world as we know it, and how sometimes they are frightening.


Well, those are the art historical thoughts buzzing around my mind today. I think I want to find a print or a reproduction of The Newborn to look at when I need a zen moment with the twins. Remember their innocent needs and my ability to provide for them, and that this time won't last for me, or for them.