Artistic Telephone: Interpreting Wassily Kandinsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”
Sarah Williams
The study and interpretation of history is rooted in the relationships between people, places, and time; when studying art history, these relationships often result in games of telephone as one navigates different works and events. Wassily Kandinsky crafted his “Pictures at an Exhibition” after Modest Mussorgsky’s piano suite of the same name, which was originally inspired by a series of visual art pieces by Viktor Hartmann. Each artist inspired the following one, resulting in a symbiotic circle of works whose interpretations grow more layered and complex from one artist to the next.
Written in 1874, Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition is based on a series of works by Viktor Hartmann. The two were friends with a shared goal of championing Russian art, and throughout their lives, they drew inspiration from and spoke highly of each other’s works. Following Hartmann’s sudden death, Mussorgsky composed what is arguably his best known work in homage to the artwork of his friend, with a unique overarching programmatic element: the suite cohesively acts as an aural guide for a walking tour through an exhibition of Hartmann’s art, with each movement dedicated to a respective work (with the exception of the Promenades, which portray walking from one work to the next). Although there is the clear image of walking associated with the work, Mussorgsky did not intend to portray each individual painting programmatically; rather, he intended to communicate the impression the works left on their viewers. Kandinsky, heavily inspired by Mussorgsky’s music, stood by this idea, stating in his 1911 book Concerning the Spiritual in Art, “By no means was it ‘program’ music. If it ‘shows’ something anyway, then it is not the pictures themselves, but only the experiences of Mussorgsky that far exceed the ‘content’ of the painting and find a purely musical form.”
Similarly to Mussorgsky, who created an original musical work based on Hartmann’s visual artwork, Kandinsky created a series of original art pieces based on Mussorgsky’s suite. However, these works were not still paintings, as was the case with Hartmann’s works—Kandinsky’s images were animated in pursuit of a Gesamtkunstwerk, which roughly translates from German as “total work of art”. These works were intended to combine sound, color, and motion in an effort to bring artwork to life as much as possible—here, it seems extremely suitable in response to a musical work, which is always in motion. He expands upon this idea, stating that “...each art is separated from the other, but on the other hand, they are combined in their innermost tendencies. Thus, it is found that every art has its own strength which can not be substituted for another. Therefore, we finally arrive at the encroachment of the power of the various arts upon one another. From this inner tendency will arise, in the future, the truly monumental art.”
The series itself, created in 1928, can unfortunately only be found today in still representations and not in its animated form (there is no reliable record of the original moving works). However, a motionless representation still allows us to analyze shapes, colors, light, textures, patterns, and lines, and use these elements as a means of forming an interpretation.
Gnomus
The first painting in the cycle, titled “Gnomus” (after Mussorgsky’s first movement), is most obviously dominated by elements of contrast. The vertical stripes of the left side stand opposite the horizontal stripes of the right side, much like the dichotomy of the large circle in the middle against the sharp triangles below it.
This idea of contrast is no doubt derived from the many contrasting elements in Mussorgsky’s composition. The flashy eighth note figure that opens the movement, marked sempre vivo (“always lively”) at a jarring fortissimo dynamic, lasts only for a measure; when played a second time, it is marked softly at piano and is often played almost twice as slow, following the meno vivo indication (“less alive”). This constant stop-and-start motif gives a sense of rhythmic and metric unease, with dichotomy being the main element that grounds us (as weak as it still is).
In addition to the contrasting tempi in the beginning, this eighth note theme exists opposite a poco meno mosso, pesante theme (“slightly less motion, heavy”; this can perhaps be labeled as a B section). Dominated by slower half and quarter notes, maintained at a mezzo forte dynamic (as opposed to the fortissimo dynamic of the opening), this theme, juxtaposed with the opening theme, creates a divergence that governs this movement—likewise, the contrasting elements in Kandinsky’s painting are clear.
The Old Castle
The second work is titled “The Old Castle” after Mussorgsky’s second movement. In much of Hartmann’s artwork (not necessarily in this original painting, which is now lost), he would provide human figures for perspective and scale. This approach is remarkably considerable when interpreting Kandinsky’s painting:
We could interpret the figures outside as many objects: perhaps the stacked triangular shapes on the left side are indicative of a tree, and maybe the stacked domes atop the three columns are reminiscent of a pavilion. But this work becomes puzzling when considering the title of “The Old Castle”, as there does not seem to be a castle pictured here. One could, however, interpret the larger white cone as a large staircase into a window or door (represented by the gray square) —by this logic, the castle becomes a lot more daunting, as only a fraction of it can be seen within the frame. Furthermore, these figures of a “tree” and a “pavilion” become indicators of scale, signifying that this castle is much larger than we can fathom.
Another important element of this work is its use of color—the hazy, almost cloudy backgrounds of red and green not only point forward to Kandinsky’s future notability for this technique, but they also reflect the hazy, quiet, stagnant qualities of the respective music. In the eerie key of G# minor, Mussorgsky maintains this creepy, hazy quality with a static G# in the bass. The melody exists mostly at a hollow perfect fifth above this, only ever moving stepwise in pursuit of conserving this movement’s murkiness.
Bydlo
Kandinsky takes a new approach in his third work, based on Mussorgsky’s fourth movement (with Bydlo translating to “cattle”). The original music, with a churning, heavy left hand and tenutos on just about every note, depicts “a Polish cart on enormous wheels, drawn by oxen.” The relentless, unwavering eighth-note chords in the left hand mirror the constant motion of the wheels, while the heavy, somewhat awkward melody likely reflects the weight and awkwardness of cattle.
While it might seem like an obvious choice to depict cattle in his artwork, Kandinsky instead chooses to depict the cart itself:
When viewing the artwork through this lens (of the cart rather than the cattle), several elements immediately become clear: the black and white circle depicts a wheel with spokes, the rectangle textured with squiggly lines depicts a yoke, and the overwhelmingly rectangular figures that make up this piece reflect the mechanical nature of the cart.
“Samuel” Goldenberg and “Schmuyle”
The fourth work, based on Mussorgsky’s sixth movement, depicts the two men portrayed in Mussorgsky’s original music, as the title suggests. Samuel Goldenberg, a rich Jew, is represented by the Andante, grave energico theme (moving, serious energy), characterized by augmented intervals that are reminiscent of Jewish folk music, with each figure doubled in each hand as a means of emphasizing its significance. Schmuyle, a poor Jew, is represented by the second Andantino theme, which contains frantic triplets and grace notes in a high register, creating a “begging” or “pleading” effect.
Samuel Goldenberg:
Schmuyle:
Much like in “Gnomus”, these contrasting elements that exist in the original music manifest themselves in Kandinsky’s artistic interpretation. Represented in the image as two figures in the same frame, the starkness of the color red combined with the harshness of the “X” shape in the left rectangle perhaps reflects the untouchable hierarchical status of Samuel Goldenberg (especially as opposed to his apparent opponent, Schmuyle). Similarly, the haziness and softness of the orange mixed with the more delicate nature of the star-shaped figure in the right rectangle reflects the relative weakness and lowly status of Schmuyle.
Limoges
Kandinsky’s fifth work, based on Mussorgsky’s seventh movement, is based on music meant to depict “French women quarreling violently in the market.” This is personified with frantic, fortissimo sixteenth notes, most of which are dense chords (providing a certain sense of emphasis and insistence related to the idea of a “quarrel”). Many of the pitches in the melody are chromatically altered, meaning they exist outside of the natural set of pitches within the key of E-flat major—these pitches indicate tension and unease, standing in alignment with the intended impression of the music.
Kandinsky’s interpretation is shockingly literal. Rather than portraying figures seemingly quarreling, or perhaps the hustle-and-bustle of a busy market, he instead opts to create a literal map of the city of Limoges (in France):
In this map, we see an overwhelming use of Bauhaus colors, likely drawing inspiration from the time he spent at the Bauhaus during this period of his life. The smaller red and blue rectangles surrounding the map are Mondrian-like, hinting at a level of abstraction that coexists with the literal irony presented by Kandinsky.
Catacombs
The sixth work is based on Mussorgsky’s eighth movement, which intends to depict a Roman tomb. The music itself is frightening in its authority and magnificence, with alternating fortissimo and piano chords made up mostly of hollow perfect intervals (fifths and
octaves). The back and forth of these dynamics, combined with the emptiness of the chords, suggest the echo effect that one is bound to encounter when exploring a catacomb.
Kandinsky’s visual interpretation of this perhaps holds the deepest relationship to the respective music, as many literal elements surrounding the idea of catacombs are incorporated in his depiction:
The large black figure itself is twofold: it not only takes the shape of an arch, reminiscent of the entrance to a cave, but it bears a remarkable resemblance to the silhouette of a traditional funerary mask, much like Tutankhamun wears in his rest. The strongly mirror the blocks of sound that are heard in Mussorgsky’s composition, while the lighter colored background provides a sort of echo-like plane for the shapes to exist on. The detail in this painting is extraordinary: one may notice that the base color is not just brown or beige, but rather consists of many ghoul-like faces that add to the haunting impression of the work. Finally, the small red and green squares in the middle are gem-like, tying the idea of a “cave” into a neat bow.
Baba Yaga (The Hut on Chicken Legs)
The seventh piece of Kandinsky’s series is based on Mussorgsky’s ferocious ninth movement. The music was originally meant to reflect “a clock in the form of Baba Yaga’s hut on fowl’s legs.” Baba Yaga was a prominent figure in Slavic folklore: an ogress who is a menace to children, she lives in a hut that “spins continually on birds’ legs.” Baba Yaga’s dangerous presence is noticeable throughout Mussorgsky’s musical depiction: sforzandi and crunchy, dissonant intervals evoke her monstrous qualities.
However, much like in Bydlo, Kandinsky focuses his efforts elsewhere: he chooses instead to portray the hut itself, simultaneously ignoring the grotesqueness of Baba Yaga’s character:
In his depiction, we can notice many figures that are “chicken-like”: the yellow triangular space atop the circle seems to mirror a beak, while the lines that make the triangle could be interpreted as chicken legs. The lines supporting the circle quite clearly make up a supporting structure for a hut, perhaps with a ladder in the middle to resemble the “climbing ladder” scalar patterns heard throughout the music. On each side, there seems to be careless scribbles, perhaps aligning with the idea of “chicken scratch” (This interpretation might be a stretch, but the term seemed to pick up in the early 1900s, so it is not entirely out of the question.) Nonetheless, the dichotomy of the small circles on the left side with the longer lines of the right side are likely representative of the music’s contrasting staccato and legato sections.
Great Gate
Both Kandinsky and Mussorgsky’s final pieces are arguably the grandest. Mussorgsky’s music is characterized by heroic, tonal melodies that exist within heavy chords marked Maestoso. Con grandezza (majestic, with grandeur).
Kandinsky’s depiction reflects this grandeur with wild bursts of color, with the sun and the moon representing the city of Kiev. His use of negative space hints at techniques used in his future works, while the same technique of dividing background color is taken from “The Old Castle.”
Works Cited
“Baba Yaga.” Encyclopædia Britannica, 27 Apr. 2023, www.britannica.com/topic/Baba- Yaga#:~:text=Baba%20Yaga%2C%20also%20spelled%2 0Baba,spins%20continually%20on%20birds’%20legs.
“How Kandinsky Was Inspired by Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition.” Interlude, 12 Nov. 2020, interlude.hk/art-into-music-into-art-kandinsky-and-mussorgsky/.
Mussorgsky, Modest. Pictures at an Exhibition. Breitkopf and Härtel, 1874, Leipzig.
Kandinsky, Wassily. Concerning the Spiritual in Art. Dover Publications, 1977.
Copyright © 2024 Sarah Williams