The mysterious painter Giorgio de Chirico constructed his own nonexistent cities in the middle of nowhere based on his childhood memories, dreams, and experiences. His paintings were intriguing and slightly disturbing, with sunlit squares and deserted streets evoking strange anxiety and terror. He was one of the founding fathers of Italian modernism yet hated modern art with passion, looking for inspiration in the works of the Old Masters. Read on to familiarize yourself with the most important works by Giorgio de Chirico.

1. The Child’s Brain: The Influential Work of Giorgio de Chirico

Giorgio de Chirico was born in 1888 in Greece into a family of Italians of Greek origins. His parents were hereditary nobility, and the artist proudly admitted that his father, Sicilian baron Evariste de Chirico, was the only sibling in his family who expressed the desire to work in his life. De Chirico’s father passed away when the artist was only seventeen, but he remained a lasting and recognizable figure in his mature works. According to de Chirico’s memoirs and the recollections of family friends, the future artist admired his father, yet their relationship was never as close as he wished it to be. He craved affection, which his father, an educated and intelligent man raised in an upper-class environment, was unable to express.

The Child’s Brain lingers between a childhood memory and a Freudian nightmare. The father is present yet passive, with his eyes closed. His nude torso and the position of a book on a table in front of him suggest possible sexual connotations of the scene, possibly accidentally witnessed by the artist in his early years. Like many artists of his time, de Chirico read Sigmund Freud and reflected upon his theories of childhood and sexuality.

Apart from the significance of the father figure to the artist, the painting had a remarkable life of its own. Soon after its completion, the future leader of the Surrealists, Andre Breton, saw it from the bus window and was so impressed that he jumped off at the next stop to buy it immediately. Despite de Chirico’s later scorn for modern art, Breton’s encounter with his work helped establish Surrealism as we know it.

2. Gare Montparnasse (The Melancholy of Departure)

Trains and railway stations were among the most popular motifs used by de Chirico in his works. Like the paternal figure with a recognizable mustache, they occurred from the artist’s family history. His father was a railroad engineer who worked on railway construction in Greece. His projects were meant to reorganize and reconstruct the vast and empty spaces of Thessaly province. In a similar manner, Giorgio de Chirico reorganized his imaginary spaces. To him, engineering was the method of perceiving and studying deep space. Apart from the philosophical perspective, drafts and instruments from his father’s desk have certainly affected de Chirico’s technical skill and inclination.

A railway station represents a liminal space—the point of transition and transformation. Unlike other spaces occupied by humans, stations, and airports are designed not to be inhabited or interacted with in any productive manner but only to be left behind for a more promising, desirable, or important location. This status grants liminal spaces an uncanny feeling of impermanence and blurred identity. De Chirico reinforces these feelings by leaving these spaces empty. Designed to contain moving and transforming human beings, empty railway stations evoke anxiety and identity crises caused by the inability to define one’s state of existence.

3. The Mystery and Melancholy of a Street

Unlike most other paintings by de Chirico, The Mystery and Melancholy of a Street contains a surprisingly dynamic and lively element: a small dark figure of a little girl running with her hoop. Some art experts believe that de Chirico borrowed the figure from another iconic pointillist painting by Georges Seurat, A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. Most likely, de Chirico recognized the hallucinatory qualities of Seurat’s technique. Images created by thousands of small primary-colored dots seemed to move on their own, nauseating the viewer.

However, de Chirico’s running girl could not for sure be categorized as a living being. In the contrasting deserted cityscape, the figure seemed to be nothing but a deceptive shadow, luring the unsuspecting viewer into a trap. The shadow moves from one dark corner to another, as if afraid to be captured and dissolved by light. The menacing presence of something yet unsees is intensified by another silhouette. An immobile tall figure hides behind the corner, casting a dark shadow on a sunlit piazza.

Yet, despite allegedly borrowing the figure from one of the most significant paintings in the history of Modern art, de Chirico despised modernism with his entire heart. He even called it one of the two most disastrous aspects of contemporary civilization, rivaled only by Nazist ideology. In his art and studies, de Chirico relied mostly on the works of the Italian Old Masters and their centuries-long traditions. In his later years, he even attempted to destroy most of his early paintings, which were much more experimental than those of his mature period. He even confronted art historians and rejected the attribution of some paintings. Fortunately, Giorgio de Chirico did not succeed, with enough of his old works still preserved in museums and private collections.

De Chirico’s scorn for modern art was personal. His early works, presented at the time when Cubism and early abstraction dominated the scene, were often dismissed as ‘decorative’ by pro-avant-garde critics. Over the years, he distanced himself from the rest of the Modernists, constructing the myth of the misunderstood and isolated painter.

Ironically, despite this intense hatred, it was de Chirico who played the decisive role in forming one of the two most important movements in the history of Italian modernism—the Metaphysical painting. The second crucial movement was Futurism, which soon cross-contaminated with de Chirico’s theory. One of the most influential futurists of his era, Carlo Carra, briefly worked with de Chirico in 1917 before moving to more archaic forms of painting inspired by Giotto.

4.  The Disquieting Muses

This Metaphysical painting focused on representing the unseen and unreal while using familiar objects and classical architecture. There were no fantastic creatures, strange forms, or fairytale actions involved. The surreal effect of deceit was created by elements that would not raise any suspicion in any other setting. Deserted spaces and contrasting light question the purpose and appropriateness of these objects and blur the line between the animate and the inanimate. The mannequins, depicted in one of the many versions of the famous Disquieting Muses painting, evoke terror because of the blurred distinction between life and death. The painting later inspired the famous poet Sylvia Plath to write a poem with the same name.

Relying on Italian architecture and memories of his Greek childhood, de Chirico found another inspiration in German philosophy. The keys to his oeuvre can be found in the writings of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer. In his writings, Nietzsche often suggested a hidden meaning behind everyday objects, an unseen life underneath the existing reality. Apart from sharing ideas, the philosopher and the artist had one more thing in common: both found physical reflections of their concepts in the Italian city of Turin. There, Nietzsche spent his final years calling it the only suitable place for him. Giorgio de Chirico found his dramatic contrast of light and shadow created by the arches and covered walkways of Turin.

5. Giorgio de Chirico’s Self-Portrait

Self-portrature was particularly important for de Chirico, especially in his 1920s period. Then, he started to doubt his previous artistic beliefs and connections and began further distancing himself from other artists. This self-portrait remains a perfect illustration of the company in which de Chirico wanted to see himself: the angle and pose of his portrait were copied directly from sixteenth-century paintings. Next to it is a painted sculptural bust of the artist in profile—an homage to the art of Classical Antiquity.

At that time, de Chirico adopted not only compositional but also technical methods of the old masters. Apart from his usual oil paint, he began to use tempera—an egg-based medium widely employed by painters before the 1500s. Tempera dried quickly and did not allow for mixing colors, so artists had to paint gradients with small strokes of unmixed colors. Starting from the 1920s and until his death in 1978, Giorgio de Chirico saw his mission in reviving the principles of traditional techniques and iconography. Still, his early period of work remains his most famous and influential.

Gesamtkunstwerk is an ancient Greek concept with a 19th-century German name, which boomed across Europe and beyond in the early 20th century. The Gesamtkunstwerk is indelibly associated with the German opera composer Richard Wagner, although he did not invent the term and only used it a few times. By the time modernism hit its peak, artists of all kinds were fascinated by the Gesamtkunstwerk, a total synthesis of all art forms into one unified work.

Who Invented the Gesamtkunstwerk?

The term Gesamtkunstwerk came into use long after the first examples appeared, some 2,000 years, in fact. It is thought to have first appeared in print in 1827 in a philosophical treatise by Karl Friedrich Eusebius Trahndorff titled Aesthetics, or Doctrine of Worldview and Art. This was at the height of the Romantic period when artists and philosophers were reconceptualizing the arts in their relationship to the self, divinity, and the universe.

Many Romantics turned to Ancient Greece as a model for the arts and their place in the world. When the composer Richard Wagner took up the term Gesamtkunstwerk in 1849, he had his eye on Greek tragedy as the apex of artistic achievement.

Why Greek tragedy? The works of dramatists such as Aeschylus and Sophocles were (as many translators render the “Gesamt” part of the German compound word) ‘total.’ They involved poetry, music, and dance. They were also presented in amphitheaters, which brought audiences together in a ritualistic celebration of the arts, not conceived of separately but experienced simultaneously.

Trahndorff had invoked the Gesamtkunstwerk, with its connotation of a unified, exalted experience, to argue for the importance of aesthetics as a conduit to faith in an increasingly rational world. For Wagner, this Ancient Greek ideal needed reviving because, over the centuries, the arts had been separated and—even worse—subjected to commercialism.

The Romantic period saw several figures strive to bring the arts together, whether in theory or practice. Philosophers such as the Schlegel brothers, Ludwig Tieck, and Novalis used ‘poetry’ as a blanket term for the spirit animating all art. E.T.A. Hoffmann’s opera Undine (1816), which vividly brought to life a Romantic folk tale, was praised by fellow composer Carl Maria von Weber in terms which would later sound very much like the Gesamtkunstwerk: “an art work complete in itself, in which partial contributions of the related and collaborating arts blend together, disappear, and, in disappearing, somehow form a new world.”

Richard Wagner’s Theory of Gesamtkunstwerk

Richard Wagner used the term Gesamtkunstwerk in two essays published in 1849, Art and Revolution and The Art-Work of the Future. The concept was not the only subject covered by these verbose essays, but it was one that became inextricably associated with the composer.

In the first essay, Wagner celebrates ancient Greece as the last period in human history when art was a free and authentic expression of the race which made it (the idea of art as expressive of a race is another of Wagner’s best-known theories and one which endeared him to the Nazis).

Wagner argues that in ancient Greece, people had unfettered access to beauty, and all of their senses were thrilled in ceremonies that fused the arts of Dance, Tone, and Poetry, as he calls them. Now, in the 19th century, art is in a state of “civilized barbarianism.” It serves industry, commercialism, and greed—things he saw embodied, as it happened, in the contemporary opera world.

In The Art-Work of the Future, Wagner looked ahead to a kind of art that would revive the Greek principle of unity. In the artwork of the future, there would be no second-rate lyrics accompanying great music just for the sake of it. There would be no grand tragedies whose impact was negated by being staged in shoddy or stuffy theaters. Every aspect of the experience of art would be considered, and each element would complement the other.

It mattered little that Wagner only used the word Gesamtkunstwerk a handful of times in these essays and then not at all afterward, seemingly growing ambivalent toward it (Ross 2020, p. 13). In the second half of the 19th century, as he slowly became known, then notorious, then ubiquitous, he seemed to be enacting the Gesamtkunstwerk again and again.

When Wagner published the 1849 essays, he was beginning to taste success with works such as The Flying Dutchman and Tannhäuser, but still struggling to get his operas staged. It was only later that he wrote the works that made his name, each one taking him closer to achieving the Gesamtkunstwerk: Tristan and Isolde (1865), the Ring cycle (premiered in full 1876), and Parsifal (1882).

The latter two music dramas (a term usually used instead of ‘opera’ for Wagner’s productions) were premiered at a location that might also be considered one of Wagner’s great Gesamtkunstwerken: the Bayreuth Festival theater.

This purpose-built venue was dedicated, like a consecrated religious building, to the sole performance of Wagner’s works. For many years, it was forbidden to perform Parsifal outside Bayreuth. This is because the building itself, with its egalitarian fan-shaped seating, invisible orchestra pit, and double proscenium, was built in conjunction with Wagner’s works, designed to fully immerse audiences in every facet of the experience.

The Gesamtkunstwerk in the 19th Century

Although Wagner had used the term Gesamtkunstwerk only a few times, it became representative of his work and ideas, as Wagnerism—a craze for all things relating to the composer’s music dramas, their characters, settings, plots, and forms—spread in the second half of the 19th century. As Wagnerism blossomed, the meaning of its central concepts expanded, with each of its proponents finding something new in it.

In architecture, the Gesamtkunstwerk influenced a movement toward making every aspect of a building beautiful. Art Nouveau designers in Belgium and France looked to Wagner’s comprehensive vision to inspire their efforts to make entire cities aesthetically pleasing. Expert artists from all fields—sculpture, metalwork, stained glass, carpentry, textiles, lighting—collaborated in these efforts.

The Arts and Crafts movement in Britain operated on the same principle. The maxim “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful,” attributed to William Morris, captures the idea of the Gesamtkunstwerk: everyday life can be geared towards an experience of all the arts blended together in harmony.

Aestheticism, a related movement whose spokespeople included Oscar Wilde, similarly promoted the role of art in everyday life and the vital importance of satisfying our aesthetic needs by living in beautiful surroundings and engaging with all of the arts.

Disciples of Aestheticism in the 1870s and 1880s were profoundly influenced by French artists of the previous few decades, many of them fervent Wagnerians who meditated on the possibilities of the Gesamtkunstwerk. Perhaps most influential was the poet Charles Baudelaire, whose experience of Wagner’s Tannhäuser in 1861 produced exactly the kind of multi-sensory immersion, overwhelming to the point of exhaustion, that the composer had hoped to achieve.

According to Baudelaire’s essay about this experience, Wagner’s music revealed to him that “true music evokes analogous ideas in different brains,” reflecting the “complex and indivisible totality” of the world (Ross 2020, p. 81). By “true music,” Baudelaire means an experience in which all the arts are synthesized or correspond. The latter was a key term in Baudelaire’s own work, which repeatedly plays on synesthesia, or the correspondence of sight, smell, sound, taste, and touch (see his poem ‘Correspondances’ in Les Fleurs du mal).

Several 19th-century movements, whether in poetry, painting, or music, took up the idea that one art might imitate another and thereby move closer to the total experience Wagner had written about. Symbolist poetry, painting, and theater aimed toward an essential aesthetic experience in which the limitations of one artistic form or another were unimportant.

From the Impressionists to the Parnassians to the Aesthetes, many artists tried to achieve musical effects. The art critic and theorist Walter Pater proposed: “All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music.” Pater’s idea was not explicitly Wagnerian (although he nodded to a shared basis in German aesthetics by terming this aspiration Anders-streben, or “other-striving”). Still, the Gesamtkunstwerk had by now exceeded its most famous theorist, filtering into all areas of intellectual and artistic culture.

Modernist Literature and the Gesamtkunstwerk

By the first half of the 20th century, examples of Gesamtkunstwerk were being identified across the arts, not only the operatic or theatrical stage where it had begun. Like Wagnerism, modernism took many forms and is difficult to define, but correspondence between the arts was a key feature.

In literature, writers took inspiration from the visual arts and music to create arresting novels, poetry, and plays that reconfigured the experience of language itself: figures like W.B. Yeats, T.S. Eliot, James Joyce with his monumental Ulysses, and Virginia Woolf in her stream-of-consciousness novel. Woolf’s The Waves, or Joyce’s Finnegans Wake (which continues to baffle readers), created rhythmic effects, moving language beyond its ordinary usage of simply communicating meaning.

The Gesamtkunstwerk Throughout the 20th Century

Examples of the modernist Gesamtkunstwerk on stage were similarly baffling and shocking to audiences. Igor Stravinsky and Sergei Diaghilev’s The Rite of Spring famously caused a sensation on its premiere in 1913, usually attributed to the new and unusual sound of its music. But the ballet was equally noteworthy for its correspondence of the arts, with meticulous care over the costuming, choreography, and stage design.

Companies such as Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes and individual composers, playwrights, and impresarios promoted collaboration between artists of all kinds to ensure that every aspect of the theatrical experience was artistically perfect.

Wilde even hoped to infuse theaters with a variety of scents during performances of his controversial production, Salome (1893), corresponding to emotions in the play—an aspiration harking back to Greek plays. However, logistical limitations prevented him from achieving his plan.

Another Ballets Russes production brought together innovative artists in all forms. Parade (1917) was written by Jean Cocteau, set to music by Erik Satie, and featured costumes and sets designed by Pablo Picasso. Although it confused many spectators and, therefore, did not quite achieve the Gesamtkunstwerk aim of taking its audience to a higher sphere, Parade was conceived as a Gesamtkunstwerk. Indeed, it was a production in which all the arts worked together, unfettered by their formal differences, striving to attain unity and transforming elements of ordinary life into art—using everyday settings and making music with ‘found’ objects such as a typewriter and milk bottles.

Parade led to the coining of the term Surrealism. An early 20th-century movement, Surrealism, along with near-contemporary movements such as Bauhaus and Dada, drew on the Gesamtkunstwerk in its commitment to blending art forms and seeking to make life itself an artistic experience. Walter Gropius‘s 1919 Bauhaus manifesto echoed Wagner’s language 70 years previously, lamenting how “the arts exist in isolation” and calling for “the new structure of the future,” requiring the “conscious, cooperative effort of all craftsmen” (Ross 2020, p. 460).

Although Dada’s anti-art stance might seem to make it the polar opposite of Wagner’s glorification of the perfected aesthetic experience in the Gesamtkunstwerk, the movement did not entirely discard the concept. Dada artists like Marcel Duchamp and Man Ray treated all kinds of objects as material for art. They emphasized the continuous, performative nature of artistic experience, leading to encounters with art that simultaneously played on all the senses.

The Gesamtkunstwerk Now

Critic Alex Ross writes that the definition of the Gesamtkunstwerk mutated in the 20th century beyond what Wagner (or, for that matter, its original creator, Trahndorff) had meant because the term became a way of projecting 20th-century ideas (generated by 20th-century technologies) back onto 19th-century origins.

By the early 1900s, artists could look to the burgeoning world of the cinema as the epitome of the Gesamtkunstwerk: sound and vision synthesized in an experience so overawing that early audiences—so the story goes—fled in fear when the screen showed a train approaching.

Cinema was recognized early on as a medium in which what Wagner called the sister arts could exist in harmony. Music is so ubiquitous in a film that we find it noteworthy if it deliberately omits it and plays with silence instead. Film composers work with directors and writers to ensure that the music corresponds with the images, assisting with the narrative, and deepening our understanding of a character’s psychology (many film scores use Wagner’s technique of the leitmotif, in which a musical phrase is paired with a particular character or idea), and playing on our very emotions.

But the modern Gesamtkunstwerk is not limited to the cinema. Artists in all media continue to explore how one art can imitate another to expand the boundaries of art, make life itself an aesthetic experience, and stage sacralized ceremonies in which the audience hopes to achieve some kind of transcendence.

The vast scale of concerts in the pop and rock music worlds is a good example. Audiences can now expect a sensory onslaught, not just hearing music but witnessing curated choreography, costuming, and cinematic visuals on screens behind the artist. These artists may not always be conscious of it, but their high-concept tours are perpetuating and expanding the possibilities of the Gesamtkunstwerk.

Bibliography

Ross, A. (2020). Wagnerism: Art and Politics in the Shadow of Music. 4th Estate.

When referring to alternative music, the connotation changes depending on the context, as this article sets out to explain. For example, most rock music from the 1990s and 2000s is described as “alternative” nowadays, but this differs vastly from the original connotation attached to alternative music. Pinning down a single, authoritative definition of alternative music is nearly impossible. This article will explore alternative music through various bands that were instrumental in its rise and fall, as well as the aftermath of the “great alternative music schism” when Nirvana “sold out” and went commercial.

Defining the “Alternative” in Alternative Music

So, let us begin with a general definition: alternative music is a catch-all, umbrella term for music that rose from the post-punk movement in the mid-1980s. It extends to terms like “new music” and “post-modern.” There is an underground status attached to alternative music—artists favored working with independent record labels rather than commercial, mainstream labels. There is also a do-it-yourself (DIY) ethos that rose to prominence and found a footing in the punk movement, combined with the desire to stay underground and shun commercialism and commercial success.

Artistic authenticity is also at the heart of alternative music—an ideal alternative music espoused before a split occurred when Nirvana reached commercial success with their album Nevermind. Nirvana’s breakthrough into and onto commercial radio stations established alternative (rock) music as a commodity that could be commercialized.

The line becomes blurred when we compare the American idea of alternative to that of the British across the pond. In British English, alternative music is the preferred term, but confusion arises because the lines become blurred. After all, hip-hop and electronic music are included in the British idea of alternative music. In the USA, “alternative rock” is the preferred term. Shall we make matters slightly more confusing? In the UK, “indie” (stemming from independent) is sometimes used when referring to alternative rock… but in general, indie refers to artists who sign with independent record labels.

In the US, “underground” music refers to little-known artists who sometimes sign with independent labels, music you only find through word-of-mouth. For this article, alternative music, alternative rock, and underground music will refer to alternative rock in the American sense of the word.

Alternative Rock: A Decade-by-Decade Overview

Before Nirvana’s commercial breakthrough in the early 1990s, alternative rock was known by a variety of terms. In the United States, “college rock” was often used in the 1980s because of its link with college radio stations appealing to the tastes of college students. Across the pond, “indie” was used. Sometimes, “indie rock” is used to refer to alternative rock from the 1980s. But scholars rather reserve the term for independent artists who upheld the underground ideologies associated with its punk roots while remaining underground.

In the United States, alternative rock had its genesis in the late 1960s. Bands like Iggy and the Stooges, MC5, Silver Apples, and Velvet Underground set the stage for the movement. Each offered a distinct sound that broke away from the mainstream mold. While the term would only emerge nearly two decades later, the foundations were in place.

Through artists like Andy Warhol and his Factory, bands like Velvet Underground had the financial backing they needed to pursue their art to their heart’s content.

1960s: Proto-Punk

Proto-punk was never a cohesive movement and the term is applied retrospectively today. Punk emerged around 1975/6 but the proto-punk bands all seem unrelated when you compare their sound palettes. However, some elements tie these bands together—these bands are fully aware of their outsider status and love thumbing their nose. There is the conscious challenge of mainstream rock conventions and the utopianism the hippies sought out. Overall, the proto-punk sound was stripped-down, unpolished, and sometimes even primitive. However, these artists were venting, and it was deeply personal. They sought to expose society’s grimy underbelly and often chose taboo subjects and shone a spotlight on them.

What made these bands “alternative” when compared to their contemporaries? Well, someone had to pick up the torch from the Beat Generation. The aftermath of World War II was still present in society, and conservativism was the name of the game. Now imagine a band of writers and their followers talking openly about homosexuality, sexual liberation, and women’s rights. The arts were shifting out of the claws of modernism into the pluralism of postmodernism.

The Velvet Underground (and Nico) (Active: 1964-1973)

The Velvet Underground was revolutionary in a few ways: they borrowed elements from rock ‘n’ roll, the avant-garde scene (e.g. collaborating with John Cage and La Monte Young), and wrote lyrics that did not shy away from being sexually explicit or hinting at sexual acts (e.g., Venus in Furs). Alternative guitar tunings leading to drones are another feature from their early days. Combining their music with lyrics reminiscent of post-beat realism set them apart from their contemporaries.

The Stooges (Active: 1967–1971, 1972–1974, and Reunited 2003–2016)

While the Velvet Underground were the intellectual outsiders, the Stooges went in the opposite direction.

“The Stooges revealed the underside of sex, drugs, and rock & roll, showing all the grime beneath the myth. … Taking their cue from the over-amplified pounding of British blues, the primal raunch of American garage rock, and the psychedelic rock (as well as the audience-baiting) of the Doors, the Stooges were raw, immediate, and vulgar. Iggy Pop became notorious for performing smeared in blood or peanut butter and diving into the audience.” (Stephen Thomas Erlewine, 2005).

The band had a devoted core audience, but Iggy Pop’s on-stage antics and the band’s shock tactics did not sit well with the broader audience. Nevertheless, a talent scout from Elektra Records signed them in Detroit when they went to see MC5 in concert.

Sometimes infamy also leads to opportunities. In 1973, the band released their album Raw Power. David Bowie stepped in to save the band and produced the album, but there were various technical problems and the result was a strange, thin sound. Although Stooges purists blame Bowie for the sound, it laid the foundation for the punk revolution. With the thin audio and fierce attack on the ear, punk was one step closer to becoming a reality two years later.

MC5 (Active: 1963-1973, Reunion Tours in 1992 and 2022)

MC5, or Motor City 5, where Detroit is also known as Motor City, are contemporaries of the Stooges. MC5 played a significant role in the development of punk rock. Their music was loud and intense, and their politics, revolutionary. They believed in the unholy trinity of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll with their performances taking an energetic and defiant stab at the hippies’ counter-culture ideals of love and peace. Despite their short-lived and controversial existence, MC5 paved the way for numerous music genres like hard rock, punk, and other heavy kinds of music.

Silver Apples (Active: 1967-1970, 1995)

The Silver Apples are the most enigmatic and otherworldly of the alternative music scene’s ancestors. Their music adopted a wide range of pulsing rhythms, synthesizer-generated melodies, and drones and hums. Their minimalist and electronic approach to music never achieved commercial success but inspired generations of musicians after them.

1970s: Punk Enters the Scene

Politically, the 1970s was the age of Thatcherism, the Watergate Scandal, the defeat in Vietnam, and the Anti-Apartheid Movement. The common person became disillusioned with their politicians, economic crises abounded, and there was a growing spirit of discontent among the youth worldwide. The time was ripe for movements like punk to emerge and give a voice to the disenfranchised masses.

New York Dolls (Active: 1972-1976)

During the early 1970s, a bona fide punk rock scene was emerging in New York City. One of the pioneering, yet short-lived bands of the era was the New York Dolls. The band was the brainchild of Malcolm MacLaren, a London clothier. Their amateurish approach to performing, combined with a glam look, laid the foundations for punk and glam rock.

Often, they would perform in high heels, spandex, sports make-up, and lipstick—perhaps the antithesis of the punk movement’s favor of a rough street look—but a look that set them apart. Although the band only released two albums, they are considered the pioneers of the punk rock movement.

The Ramones (Active: 1974-1996)

The Ramones played simple music (a maximum of four chords in a song), and fast (most songs last around two-and-a-half minutes) with a raw edge and energetic fun. They appealed to audiences because they only performed their material and because of their amateurish musical abilities. The Ramones did not have the musical training to learn other people’s music, so they had a make-do attitude which appealed to punkers. They did not follow the narcissistic tendencies of singer/songwriters and other types of confessional music like other rock bands. In 1976, while touring in England, the Ramones helped to establish the British punk scene.

Sex Pistols (Active: 1975–1978, Brief Revivals: 1996, 2002-2003, 2007-2008, and 2024–Present)

Of all the bands thus far, the Sex Pistols may be the most controversial and short-lived band, but their impact still echoes today. Some call the band a farce and marketing gimmick by Malcolm MacLaren (who briefly managed the New York Dolls between 1972 and 1976) who used them to promote his London clothing store, Sex, which sold leather, and S&M fashions. Thus, the name “Sex Pistols” was used to advertise MacLaren’s store and served his nihilistic ideas.

Their anti-authority stance combined with their defiant spirit appealed to the discontent young people across the UK felt: the hypocrisy within the British establishment, unemployment was around one million people, and the inflation rate of 18 percent in 1975. Combine this with school leavers who had dim prospects, and many went on welfare (“the dole”). The overall mood in the UK was boredom, cynicism, and despair.

One month after performing at London’s 100 Club at the Punk Rock Festival, organized by Malcolm MacLaren, they signed their first record deal with EMI in October 1976. They received an advance of £50,000 and released Anarchy in the UK. It seemed like the band was on a path of destruction and controversy from the start. Consider this interview on nationwide television on the state-owned BBC program Today:

John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten): You dirty bastard.

Grundy (host): Go on, again.

Lydon: You dirty f**ker!

Grundy: What a clever boy. 

Lydon: You f**king rotter! 

(Watch the full interview here.)

The furor that followed catapulted the Sex Pistols to national notoriety. But, in January 1977, EMI struck the band off their artist roster, and they lost their advance. In March 1977, A&M Records signed the band for £50,000, and a week later they also fired the band. Firing the Sex Pistols cost the record company a further £25,000 as a buyout fee. Virgin Records signed the band in May, and they released their first single, God Save The Queen. Furthermore, the single coincided (unintendedly) with Queen Elizabeth II’s silver jubilee. Although the BBC refused to play the song on any of its public stations and many stores refused to sell the record, it quickly became the number-one hit in the UK, selling over 200,000 copies.

Some say the Sex Pistols were one man’s rebellious act to promote his endeavors, others think they were a complete farce. There is another camp that regards them as a breath of fresh air in the music industry. Whichever camp you belong to, the Sex Pistols had a lasting impact on the future of alternative and mainstream rock for decades to come.

1980s: Golden Age of Alternative

The 1980s was a time of fast change around the world. The Berlin Wall fell in 1989, the outbreak of the AIDS epidemic occurred, and the Chornobyl disaster happened. At the same time, various subcultures emerged: the goths, skinheads, and punks, to name a few. In the US, the political landscape was still conservative and Republican—fertile ground for the alternative music scene to follow its mind and go in the opposite direction.

On the music front, the slump of the 1970s came to an end. The introduction of the compact disc (CD), MTV, and Michael Jackson’s Thriller LP helped the music industry to recover and move along with the times. Alternative music was more than just music, it was about taking control over what you listened to and thumbing your nose at the big, commercial corporations who dictated the public’s tastes.

Alternative bands preferred a DIY approach with a garage band mindset, and they incorporated various elements from folk rock, hard rock, psychedelic music, and of course, punk. Important alternative bands from this time included R.E.M., The Pixies, The Feelies, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Replacements, The Violent Femmes, and Sonic Youth.

R.E.M. (Active: 1980-2011)

R.E.M. was formed in Atlanta, Georgia in 1980 and was first known as Twisted Kites. Their debut album was Murmur (1983) and they were hailed as “America’s Hippest Band.” The president of I.R.S. Records signed the band after hearing them perform in New Orleans in 1983. With Murmur they shot to stardom and won Rolling Stone magazine’s Band of the Year, Best New Artist, and Album of the Year awards.

Free Radio Europe became a staple on college radio stations and, combined with their extensive touring in a beat-up van, helped establish a cult-like, although underground, following. As one of the alternative scene’s first bands to reach superstardom, R.E.M. helped to push the genre into the limelight.

Camper Van Beethoven (Active: 1983-1990 and 1999-Present)

Camper Van Beethoven merges ska, folk, punk, and world music. The band’s instant trademarks are violin (played by Jonathan Segel) and their laid-back California style. Camper van Beethoven was formed in Redlands, California in 1983. Their influence on the alternative music scene is undeniable and still resounding today.

Sonic Youth (Active: 1984-1997, 2010-2017)

With their alternate tunings, feedback, and combination of hardcore punk, the aesthetic of New York’s downtown music scene found in the works of Philip Glass, Glenn Branca, and Steve Reich’s Sonic Youth redefined the sonic landscape. Their influence would ripple far beyond their timeframe and elements can even be heard in the 1990s grunge bands like Nirvana.

Their albums EVOL (1986) and Sister (1987) were released on SST, and Daydream Nation, which was released in 1988 on the Enigma label, became important sonic and alternative music artifacts. They achieved some of their alternative tunings—inspired by Glenn Branca—by not only changing the way the guitar strings are tuned but also by jamming screwdrivers and drumsticks between the strings and fretboard.

As time passed, their music took on a more pop-friendly sound, which furthered their reputation among listeners outside the alternative scene. In 1990, they signed with major label Geffen and released ten albums with the label.

1990: The “Great Alternative Music Schism” and Fragmentation

The 1990s signaled the march towards the 21st century and technological developments that would shape the face of the world. Some events shocked the world, like the trial of O.J. Simpson and the passing of Princess Diana. South Africa elected its first democratically elected president, Nelson Mandela, and the first babies of Gen Z were born.

Musically, a new type of music emerged, especially in Seattle, namely “grunge.” Nirvana and Pearl Jam pivoted the alternative music scene into the spotlight. Yet, alternative music has become a catch-all term that ranges from experimental music to more accessible pop-rock. Female artists like Alanis Morissette and Tori Amos made significant contributions to the scene and paved the way for later female artists like Avril Lavigne and Billie Eilish.

Towards the new millennium, the alternative genre became fragmented, and subgenres and the term “indie rock” emerged as the replacing descriptor when referring to alternative rock describing the diverse and independent artists expressing themselves through music.

Nirvana (Active: 1987-1994)

Nirvana sent a clear call that the 1980s were over with their album Nevermind. For Generation X, it is the album that encapsulates their being, and Kurt Cobain became their generation’s version of John Lennon of Beatles’ fame.

Nevermind greatly differed from their first and independent album, Bleach (1989). Their debut album followed the punk rock ethos of staying underground, yet it sold 35,000 copies. But the grunge foundations were laid. Nirvana and other grunge musicians followed the punk ethos in music and attitude, many songs use a slow tempo combined with simple chord progressions, start-stop dynamics where a soft passage is suddenly followed by a loud one (like Baroque music’s terraced dynamics), and with lyrics favoring dark themes and delivered in a lamenting tone.

However, when Nirvana signed with Geffen Records and Nevermind hit the shelves many alternative fans believed that Nirvana became sellouts—they abandoned their authenticity and independence. Others felt that the band abandoned their ethical values and turned their backs on the alternative scene’s values of not chasing money and fame. Kurt Cobain sometimes joked about the band becoming sellouts, but also defended their position of pursuing mainstream success.

Alanis Morisette (Active: 1987-Present)

Alanis Morisette is especially known for emotive and candid lyrics combined with her distinctive sound which blends pop and rock influence. Her album, Jagged Little Pill catapulted her to fame in the American market in 1995.

It was unheard of for a female singer to offer her perspective on the themes of heartache and love, especially in the hit single, You Oughta Know. Many of her songs were censored on radio broadcasts due to the explicit references and language. With her evocative mezzo-soprano voice and expressive songwriting, she paved the way for numerous female artists and gave women a voice to express their feelings.

Hans Bellmer was a lesser-known member of the Surrealists who focused on dollmaking and photography. Bellmer’s unsettling, deformed dolls emerged partially as a reaction to the standards of Aryan beauty and health promoted by the Third Reich. However, soon, the dolls turned into a lifelong project that both supported and tormented Bellmer for decades. Read on to learn more about Hans Bellmer, the forgotten dollmaker.

1. Hans Bellmer: Expression Through Opposition

Hans Bellmer, born in 1902 into a rather prosperous middle-class family from present-day Germany, could have enjoyed a comfortable life as an engineer or a civil servant. Instead, from his early years, the dominating force in his life was his opposition to his violent, aggressive, and despotic father. After finding a job in a coal mine (upon his father’s insistence), Hans was soon fired and almost imprisoned for spreading left-wing ideas among other workers. His studies of engineering in Berlin, again forced upon him, were equally unsuccessful—less than a year after enrolling, Bellmer quit and immersed himself into art, exhibiting with German Dadaists and Surrealists. Still, Bellmer was not as impractical as he seemed: soon, he opened a successful advertising agency, designing posters and creating illustrations for major German companies.

It all changed after the Nazis came to power. In 1933, Bellmer shut his agency for good, unwilling to contribute to this government’s wellbeing in any form. Needless to say, his eternal nemesis, the Bellmer family patriarch, turned out to be an ardent Nazi supporter. Around that time, Hans Bellmer started to conceive his lifelong project that would make him one of the most influential artists of his time and a pariah in his country. Horrified by the Nazi propaganda about the perfect Aryan body and ideal beauty, Bellmer invented an opposition to it.

He modeled his ideal from the figure of an adolescent girl in a transitional state between girlhood and womanhood, falling outside of strict categories of age and societal expectations. Some believe the imaginary figure was a product of Bellmer’s obsession with his teenage cousin Ursula—a forbidden relationship that could never be fulfilled. Ursula was either unaware of her role or fully content with it: a few years later, she, a Sorbonne student, brought Hans’ photographs to Andre Breton, introducing him to the Surrealists.

Bellmer’s first doll was a half-assembled carcass with deliberately unfinished body parts. A few years earlier, while visiting one of Berlin’s museums with his Dadaist friends, he found the technique for assembling movable dolls. There, he found articulated wooden dolls from the 16th century, with ball joints allowing for movement and fixation of limbs and torso.

2. Bellmer’s Projects Maturing

Bellmer’s first projects were financed and otherwise supported by his mother and brother, unbeknownst to his oppressive father. Franz, an accomplished engineer, even took part in building them. He designed movable eyes and rotating miniature panoramas inside the dolls’ abdomens. Pressing on one of the doll’s nipples, the viewer would see six scenes demonstrating lace handkerchiefs, tiny boats, or sweets. However, Bellmer soon abandoned the panoramas project to focus on more complex and erotic photographic arrangements of his dolls.

Part of Bellmer’s inspiration came from a short story by Ernst Hoffmann called The Sandman. There, a man falls in love with an automaton, a moving doll he mistakes for a real woman. Realizing his mistake, the romantic hero loses his mind and commits suicide. Similar dramatic tension and fear reveal themselves in the tableaux vivants of Bellmer, with dolls transgressing the boundaries of the animate and inanimate. Bellmer positioned his dolls in enclosed settings of rooms and cabinets, with their joints rearranged and bodies partially assembled. They look both seductive and threatening, representing the deepest desires and the worst nightmares.

3. Femininity

Bellmer’s mother represented all things the father was incapable of expressing: gentleness, understanding, support, and comfort. In fact, adopted femininity became Bellmer’s principal instrument long before he started to work on his dolls. According to the memories of Bellmer’s brother Fritz, Hans sometimes wore dresses and wigs and even signed his letters with female names. Moreover, both Hans and Fritz adopted, as they called it, a girl-like way of behaving around their father, mostly to confuse and destabilize him, avoiding possible attacks.

In 1957, Bellmer met Unica Zurn, a German writer and artist who shocked him with her resemblance to his dream dolls. Bellmer was already a widower with two children but was never truly content with his personal life, haunted by his dreams and doll figures. With Zurn’s enthusiastic consent, he progressed in his art, moving from photographs of dolls to a series of images and montages featuring Zurn’s body, similarly positioned and arranged.

Bellmer’s self-identification with his dolls never went away. Some photographs of his later period include a photomontage of his head inside Zurn’s abdomen as if he was both possessed by her and controlling her from within her body.

4. Modernist Grotesque

Modernist art has a long and detailed history of exploring grotesque bodies and their limits. The works of Egon Schiele, Bellmer’s contemporary, distorted human anatomy almost beyond recognition, and Futurists blended it with heavy industrial machinery. All of them were concerned with the limits of the human body. At what point does the inanimate come alive, and when does a living thing cease its conscious existence?

Bellmer similarly explored the body limits, although in the context of desire and eroticism turning into threatening presences. On the one hand, his dolls were the ultimate creations of the male gaze—they were sexualized bodies devoid of personality. On the other hand, while losing all non-essential parts, they turn from desirable to haunting, possessing a threat to the one who built them for his pleasure. A destructive relationship between a man and his creation is an archetypal story found in many cultures. In 1919, the famous Austrian artist Oskar Kokoschka created a life-sized doll of his ex-lover Alma Mahler before ritually decapitating it.

5. Hysteria as an Aesthetic Phenomenon

One of the peculiarities of the Surrealist movement was its exploration of hysteria—an old phenomenon and pseudomedical diagnosis that mostly referred to women. Hysteria was expressed through prolonged mental disturbance, fits of emotional distress, or simply the refusal to comply with the normative rules of feminine behavior. Prior to the development of psychiatry, hysteria was considered a physical disease but was reclassified as mental in the early 20th century. The origins of hysteria, according to some experts of the time, lay either in prolonged stress or in repressed sexual trauma.

Surrealists, namely their ideological leader Andre Breton, considered hysteria an aesthetical rather than a medical phenomenon. Reading medical reports and observing protographs of hysteria patients in epileptic or catatonic fits, they regarded it as the ultimate expression of the unconscious. Repressed desires finding their way out through hysterical episodes for them represented the highest possible state of automatism. Bellmer’s works explore this concept of hysteria as self-expression. His four-legged creatures, devoid of heads or even torsos, express their torments through convulsions, similar to those of a child during a temper tantrum.

6. Body as Text

In his writings explaining the logic behind his creations, Bellmer mentioned a medical case of two teenagers, both diagnosed with hysteria in their puberty. According to their medical files, the girls were convinced they went blind, and yet one insisted she could see objects through her nose and the other through her right hand. Following the idea of the hysterical body displacing and moving its sense organs, Bellmer further developed the idea. What if the human body could move and concentrate its senses in areas unrelated to its immediate sensory organs? And what if sexual pleasure could be experienced by the entire body rather than by its part?

In his writings, Bellmer formulated the concept of a body as an erotic palindrome or an anagram—a phrase or a word with its letters mixed and reassembled to form another or similar idea. Moreover, Bellmer’s constructions were meant to be not only easy to transform but interchangeable. Many photographs showed disassembled dolls with their torsos and hips made from identical details and breasts turning into buttocks.

What Is Hans Bellmer’s Legacy?

Although Bellmer’s creations and story were too unsettling to make him a superstar artist, his influence on the artistic scene was immediate and transformative. After receiving several photographs from Ursula, Andre Breton almost immediately published them in a Surrealist periodical Minotaure. Figures on dolls and mannequins were already popular among Surrealist painters, but Bellmer’s series launched a new wave of obsession. The issue was not only in the dolls themselves but in the way the artist modeled artificial spaces within his photographs.

For the first time in history, surrealist experiments with collage and montage separated photography from reality, allowing it to create its own alternative realms. One of the most prominent exhibits of the 1938 International Surrealist Exhibition was The Mannequin Alley—a gallery of life-sized mannequins, each decorated by one of the artists present on the show and inspired by Bellmer’s fetishistic figures.

Bellmer continued to work on his dolls and photographs until 1970. That year, Unica Zurn died by suicide, exhausted by her years-long fight with schizophrenia. Historians and medical professionals still argue whether her collaboration with Bellmer was therapeutic or destructive for her. Bellmer died five years later, succumbing to bladder cancer.

Despite its relative obscurity, Bellmer’s work continued to influence creatives of all kinds. In 1997, fashion designer Alexander McQueen released a collection inspired by Bellmer’s designs. Some garments’ proportions were distorted to fit Belmeer’s monstrous creations, while others featured metal cages as parts of their structures.

Why is Aaron Copland’s ballet score, Appalachian Spring, considered so important? Martha Graham wanted to create art that came out of the American experience. One of Graham’s most celebrated works and dance interpretations, Appalachian Spring, explores the lives of a young pioneer husband and his bride beginning a life together on the American frontier.

Of course, the work also served a political purpose, showing the world that America was built on hard work, determination, and faith. Yet, Appalachian Spring sounds as evergreen as the day it was first performed in 1944.

Music and Plot

Appalachian Spring, Television Performance, 1958

While Appalachian Spring is rooted in American realism, it also contains modernist elements. Famous choreographer, Martha Graham, commissioned the score from Copland via Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge after Graham’s principal dancer Erick Hawkins approached Coolidge. Copland was a great admirer of Graham but declined her first commission, which was based on the Greek myth of Medea because he deemed the subject too dark.

Appalachian Spring, however, tells the story of a newlywed pioneer couple and the war that briefly disrupted their lives. It is a tale of their joyous reunion and their determination to tame the land and prosper — the American dream of a brighter future.

Appalachian Spring is also considered a turning point in American art. After WWII, many New York Artists shifted towards abstract expressionism and embraced the ideals touted by modernism (Rutkoff & Scott, 1995). The ideals of progress, self-expression, and rethinking the world as we know it while searching for and creating utopia drove the early 20th century.

The score is divided into eight scenes or scenarios:

1. Prologue
2. Eden Valley
3. Wedding Day
4. Interlude
5. Fear in the Night
6. Day of Wrath
7. Moment of Crisis
8. The Lord’s Day

Each section will be discussed briefly below. All inferences and interpretations below are my own — make your own because the score’s openness allows everyone to do just that. The time codes in the text refer to the video linked above.

1. Prologue

Copland conjures a pastoral scene with a flute in the foreground, but there is a slight dissonance throughout hinting at the troubles that will later ensue. A simple structure resembling a house is either being built or already built forming the set designed by Isamu Noguchi.

The dancers/characters are introduced individually: the Preacher enters first, followed by the Pioneer Woman (reminiscent of Whistler’s Mother), seating herself in the rocking chair. They both observe the land. Next, the Husbandman enters, pauses a moment to admire the house, and walks across to the fence, waiting for the Bride, who enters next. They share and embrace before she goes across to her mother. Last, the Worshipers enter to take their place in front of the Preacher. It should be noted they do not worship the Preacher — they are symbolic of Christian dedication to God.

2. Eden Valley

After all the dancers are introduced, there is a moment of calm and silence. Suddenly, the Preacher looks up (at 02:09) and the music bursts forth in a boisterous, celebratory style to welcome the spring. The Pioneer Woman looks to the skies and the Worshipers begin a dance that emulates plants springing from the soil and begins a joyous dance. Eventually, Pioneer Woman moves onto the stage (at 02:50) performs a “gratitude dance” and “blesses” the growing crops (04:11) symbolized by the Worshipers.

The Husbandman performs a jagged dance (beginning at 04:50) but is twice interrupted by a chorale-like melody in the clarinet. He bows to the Bride and they perform a courting duet dance (05:59). After they have received the blessing for marriage from the Pioneer Woman and the Preacher, they sit side by side.

3. Wedding Day

The first sequence of the Wedding Day opens (at 08:06) with a simple melody in the clarinet and it is reminiscent of a country fair combined with a revival meeting with square dancing and fiddling thrown into the mix. The Worshipers quickly join in the festivities (08:22) dancing with the Preacher. After the Bride’s rhythmically complex solo (starting at 11:41) she returns to her mother, the Pioneer Woman’s, feet. Here she learns about being a good wife to the Husbandman, but also what is expected of her as a mother and housekeeper.

First, her mother hands her a “parcel” (at 13:41) that can be likened to rocking a baby but the action flows into the likeness of churning butter or preparing food for her house. She hands the parcel back to the Pioneer Woman who looks satisfied with her daughter’s knowledge. After continuing her solo, the bride returns to her mother a final time (at 14:57)

The Preacher calls everyone together to witness the Bride and Husbandman’s union (15:11), blesses the marriage (at 16:54), and the newlyweds set off to their new life together. The Interlude follows.

4. Interlude

Snippets of the Shaker song, Simple Gifts are used throughout much of the ballet, but during the interlude, it is quoted in full (starting at 17:05). The newlyweds are dancing joyfully and their comfort with each other is clear in their constant eye contact, the openness of the body, and how easy they find it to touch each other.

Five variations of the song are played, and we may interpret it to represent the lives of the pioneers going about their daily activities. The first variation is a solo for the Bride (starting at 17:16 to 17:38), and the second for the Husbandman (starting at 17:39 to 18:02) with a much quicker tempo while the woodwinds dominate the overall sound. A third variation starts with the low notes of the strings, with the bassoon joining later to accompany the Bride’s dance (starting at 18:03 to 18:22). Strings and woodwinds support the Husbandman’s solo (starting at 18:29 to 19:03).

The final iteration (starting from 19:11 to 19:45) of the Shaker song is a duet by the couple and a clip-clop on the piano supported by the harp and strings can be heard in the background reminiscent of a horse’s hooves. One may interpret the “clip-clop” as a foreshadowing of news of the war arriving at their house in the next part. The Worshipers dance to the music’s final strains before gathering in front of the Preacher.

5. Fear in the Night

The Preacher approaches the newlyweds accompanied by an almost funeral march-like melody (at 20:03) which brings a sense of foreboding to the ballet. His jolting solo is frenzied, and his violent shaking reminds one of Shaker revivals and services. The Bride and Husbandman are in turmoil and kneel to pray for deliverance from the approaching war (this is a foreshadowing of the American Civil War).

6. Day of Wrath

A distraught Pioneer Woman rushes to the Preacher (at 21:31) and kneels in prayer. A fuller orchestration of the Prologue’s music accompanies her solo. The Worshipers join her dance. His jumping solo signifies the Husbandman’s departure (starting at 22:02). He is anguished about leaving the Bride behind, but also filled with heroic aspirations to fight in the war. He waves farewell to his family and exits the stage while the Preacher and Worshipers (at 23:35) dance to the Wedding Day music to remind the Bride of her husband’s love for her and pray for his safe return. The Husbandman briefly appears again, but as he walks away, the Bride jolts up, which leads to the next section.

7. Moment of Crisis

The Bride opens the penultimate movement with an anxious solo (at 24:47). Overall, the music is tumultuous and seems to lack direction and key signature. Finally, the music settles down (at 26:38) when the Husbandman approaches the Bride and they dance a final duet. Simple Gifts returns for a last time (at 27:16) while the couple stands and looks out over their land. The Worshipers dance to the melody of the hymn and the Pioneer Woman joins them signifying that all has settled and worked out for the best. When the Pioneer Woman joins them in a dance it signals the end of the fearsome time.

8. The Lord’s Day

As the final strains of the hymn float away, the chorale melody (first heard interrupting the Husbandman’s dance) returns, and everyone settles down in prayer (at 28:13). The opening melody symbolizing the cast openness of Appalachia is heard again as the Husbandman approaches the Bride (at 29:31).

While all the other dancers exit the stage, the couple returns to their home. They look out over the vastness of the land and as the music dies with a clarinet solo, the Bride raises her hand in thanks for all they have.

Was Appalachian Spring Used as a Political Tool? 

Music has served many purposes in human history from entertainment, to worship in the earliest churches, to being the soundtrack for the political needs of the Nazi party. It was also wielded as a precious commodity and secret weapon behind the Iron Curtain. Music has the power to transform us and take us on unexpected journeys.

During the Cold War, the USA and Russia had numerous cultural exchanges following the Khrushchev Thaw: through the Lacy-Zarubin Agreement of 1958, dancers became diplomats. Cultural exchanges created through the agreement were aimed at educating people in both countries. First, the Moiseyev Dance Company toured the USA followed by a tour by the American Ballet Theater in the Soviet Union.

The aim was simple: to strengthen the USA’s artistic and cultural reputation beyond its borders. Dance companies that toured the Soviet Union included Alvin Ailey, Jose Limon, and Martha Graham.

One can easily see that each country had its agenda: Soviet Russia sent the Moiseyev Dance Company to point the finger at the USA’s racism and racial inequality and to highlight Russia’s multicultural tolerance and harmony.

In a game of tit-for-tat, the USA sent the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater to the USSR. The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater aims to “preserve the uniqueness of the African-American cultural experience” (The Ailey School, 2024). This one-up showmanship on the USA’s part was to show the Russians that the USA is the land of the free and everyone is equal. However, on the home front, the Civil Rights Movement was still in full swing belying everything the USA was trying to make everyone else believe…

Martha Graham’s tour to Vietnam in the 1950s had a different purpose. The production aimed to challenge and change the international opinion that Americans are a lazy nation. Appalachian Spring showed the world that Americans have unquenchable tenacity, self-reliance, and rugged individualism. It helped the world to reimagine American folk as rough pioneers who were not afraid of hard work.

Final Thoughts

Both Aaron Copland and Martha Graham made American music history with Appalachian Spring, weaving a tapestry of the young American nation’s spirit of self-reliance. Graham’s vision was distinctly American and modern — she forsook the glamor of European ballet and portrayed the couple as rugged pioneers who examine their hopes and fears in every movement.

Copland’s score along with Graham’s visionary choreography held onto a touch of reality in a world that was chasing Modernism. The ballet became a symbol of American strength and a counterpoint to the veiled political messages the Russians were sending with their ballet productions about Marxist and Communist ideals.

Today, we still experience the same emotions as the Pioneer Woman, the Bride, the Preacher, and the Husbandman: love and loss but also hope and resilience. Appalachian Spirit is a reminder of human endurance in the face of adversity. Appalachian Spring is also the quintessential American classic opening up the imagination to allow listeners and viewers to draw their interpretations.

Further Reading and Watching

Aaron Copland Collection, Available Online. (n.d.). The Library of Congress. https://www.loc.gov/collections/aaron-copland/

Chosen Vale, Inc., dba Enfield Shaker Museum. (2024, July 16). Who are the Shakers? – Enfield Shaker Museum. Enfield Shaker Museum. https://shakermuseum.org/learn/shaker-studies/who-are-the-shakers/

Copland’s “Appalachian Spring” is the quintessential American classic | Classical Music Hour | WQXR. (2018, June 25). WQXR. https://www.wqxr.org/story/copland-appalachian-spring-quintessential-american-classic/

Library of Congress & Library of Congress. Music Division, S. B. (2016) Martha Graham Dance Company Performs Appalachian Spring & Dark Meadow Suite. Washington, D.C.: Library of Congress, -04-02. [Video] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/2021690085/

Victoria and Albert Museum. (2017). What was Modernism? Victoria and Albert Museum; V&A. https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/what-was-modernism

Opera is often considered a high-brow event that only the elite and die-hard fans can understand. However, Philip Glass (b. 1937) stands as a revolutionary figure in the world of opera. Some called him a visionary, others regarded him as the enfant terrible. Glass forged an alternative path in the world of opera through a potent combination of minimalist techniques, collaborations with sought-after names and visionaries, and a commitment to accessibility. We will glance at the history of opera before Philip Glass and discover some of his operas that changed the face of the genre forever.

A Brief History of Opera Before Philip Glass

The history of opera stretches back about 400 years and has taken many meanderings. Opera’s journey began in Italy in the Renaissance and has continued to blossom and grow. The earliest operas feature myths, gods, monsters, and heroes, harking back to an idealized idea of what ancient Greek dramas may have sounded like. Greek and Roman mythology played a large part in these stories.

Renaissance (ca. 1450 to 1650)

Dafne, Jacopo Peri, 1597

The first recorded work that is considered a true opera is Jacopo Peri’s 1597 composition Dafne. Claudio Monteverdi is regarded as the first true genius of opera in the Western world. His opera, Orfeo, tells the story of Orpheus and Eurydice and was performed in front of an exclusive audience at the Duke of Mantua’s court. However, it was not a sung opera yet. It was delivered in a style known as recitar cantando, or recitative (“speech in song”).

Baroque (ca. 1650 to 1700)

Giulio Cesare in Egitto (Julius Caesar in Egypt) HWV 17, G.F. Handel, 1724

Opera took Europe by storm, and everyone wanted a piece of the action. It became an expensive affair filled with florid arias and ornate set designs with moving parts. Grandeur and noble simplicity became the catchphrases. Dances, choruses, and a more natural and fluid combination of words skyrocketed opera into the mainstream.

Castrati, male singers who were castrated before puberty to preserve their soprano voices, became the superstars of the day. They had a man’s power and control while displaying a woman’s soprano range. Today, countertenors have taken their place.

Classical Era (ca. 1700 to 1820)

Le Nozze die Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) Opera, W.A. Mozart, 1791

With the Enlightenment sweeping across Europe, gods and monsters took a back seat and opera became more realistic, focusing on people. The music became more streamlined and less ornate. A prime example is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro). The opera is based on Beaumarchais’s work on Figaro — a comedic opera with a serious heart: Figaro tries to gain the upper hand over his master and points out inequalities in France. It is said that the play promoted revolutionary ideas that helped to lead towards the French Revolution.

Romantic Era (ca. 1820 to 1900)

Das Rheingold (The Rhine Gold), Richard Wagner, 19th century

Despite the name, the Romantic Era was not about romance… It was about emotions and the pre-Romantic period, Sturm und Drang (“Storm and Stress”) sought to be “tumultuous and [filled with] intense emotions, a refusal to conform to societal norms, and a need to transgress” (Silva, 2022). The ideals of the Sturm and Drang period, especially in Germany, flowed across Europe. Artists across all genres sought to expand their world and give a voice to their feelings. Composers, like Ludwig van Beethoven, broke away from the rigid forms laid down by their predecessors and forged a new path in music.

In Germany, Richard Wagner singlehandedly changed the course of opera. Unfortunately, he was also appropriated by the Nazi Party for their nefarious reasons. He introduced new directions in harmony and expanded the use of the orchestra to convey a range of feelings, and leitmotifs to symbolize people, ideas, and places. The whole opera is based on Wagner’s idea of Gesamtkunstwerk or “total work of art.” His epic opera cycle, Der Ring des Nibelungen, WWV 86, spans four operas and is loosely based on characters from Norse mythology and the Nibelungenlied.

Composers like Puccini and Verdi emphasized emotion and lived experience in their works, like La Bohéme, Madama Butterfly, and Turandot (Puccini), and La Traviata and Rigoletto (by Verdi).

20th Century and Beyond (ca. 1900 Until Today)

Opera has come a long way from its roots in classical Greek dramas having become all-encompassing and grand. The 20th century became loaded with politics and these two soon clashed. The Nazis appropriated Viking legends for their propaganda machine and Hitler adored the works of Wagner.

Joseph Stalin’s communist policies (known as Socialist Realism) included prescribing what all artists could and could not produce. A prime example is Dmitry Shostakovich’s 1934 opera, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk which landed him on Stalin’s denounced artists list and in an article in Pravda newspaper. Luckily, Shostakovich survived the attack, and his Symphony No. 5 in D Minor, Op. 47 was offered as an apology.

Germany, under the Nazis, also placed restrictions on all forms of art, music, and film — music had to be tonal and free from jazz influences. All forms of art had to exalt the German Motherland and portray racial purity, and obedience. Anything else was considered “degenerate art.”

Benjamin Britten’s 1945 opera, Peter Grimes, turns the eye and ear toward the consequences of mob mentality and small-town life. Opera and politics would also turn their attention to momentous events of the 20th century in John Adam’s 1987 opera Nixon in China. As the title suggests, it refers to Nixon’s historic visit to Chairman Mao in China in 1972. Contemporary issues are also highlighted in opera, for example, the American Opera Project and the NYU Tisch School of the Arts’ Stonewall Operas which were commissioned to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1969 Stonewall Riots. The riots sparked the LQBTQ+ rights movement and ignited the Pride movement.

If there is a story to be told, opera makes sure that audiences can enjoy a multisensory experience. The operas of Philip Glass are no different, but he also forged a new path in the opera world.

How Did Philip Glass Revolutionize Opera?

Philip Glass is one of the most influential musicians and composers of the 21st century. He is best known for his minimalist compositions, but his operas are epic masterpieces worthy of any music lover’s attention.

Let us discover how Philip Glass revolutionized opera through his unique minimalist approach and lens.

Einstein on the Beach

Knee Play 1 from Einstein on the Beach, Philip Glass, 1976

Glass composed his first opera, Einstein on the Beach, in 1976. While Glass composed the music, he collaborated with artist Robert Wilson on the libretto. Wilson handled the stage design and directed the production. Instead of following established conventions of plot or narrative arc, Glass’s opera is non-narrative and uses a formalist format.

He threw all the established rules out of the window. Instead of the traditional orchestra, the work is composed for synthesizers, woodwinds, and voices. Audience performances last over five hours without the traditional intermissions — audience members are welcome (and encouraged) to wander in and out of the performance at will.

Further, a series of recurring images are used in juxtaposition to abstract dances to tell the story. Knee Plays, or brief interludes, connect each of the four “scenes.” The fragmented nature of the opera is used to portray the complexities of Einstein’s theories of space and time.

The opera is a culmination of Glass’s minimalist techniques. Repeating musical figures that subtly change as they unfold during a scene creates a hypnotic and meditative atmosphere. Glass uses music to draw the audience into the emotional world of the characters. Combining the aforementioned with rhythm can create a sense of calm or urgency, depending on its use.

Einstein is part art installation, part modern dance, part opera, and a whole avant-garde masterpiece that changed opera and set a new standard for operas in America and the world.

Satyagraha

This 1979 opera and libretto is loosely based on an ancient Sanskrit text taken from the Bhagavad Gita. This was his first traditional opera, using an orchestral lineup with a cast of soloists. It is through-composed, meaning the music avoids repetition, but constantly introduces new melodies, rhythms, and harmonies. It also emphasizes the development of new musical ideas to adapt to the story. Wagner’s Ring Cycle and Richard Strauss’ Salome are examples of this from the early 19th. But that is where the Western tradition ends.

The Kuru Fields of Justice from Stayagrah, by Philip Glass, 1979

Scholars have dubbed the opera a “para-opera” because it opposes the musical and dramatic ideas found in Western music. Rhythms are used to underscore the dramatic events unfolding in the opera. In Glass’s typical minimalist style, short, repeated phrases and rhythms expand and contract — the additive and subtractive processes he learned from Ravi Shankar while transcribing Indian music in Paris during the 1960s. This technique creates the idea of a moment suspended in time.

The imagery used in the opera also adds another layer to this multi-sensory experience. This technique is well-suited to the anachronistic plot which weaves into and out of Mahatma Gandhi’s present life and his past in South Africa, where he stood up against the social injustices of the British.

Akhnaten

While the premise of minimalism is to strip down art to its most basic form, Glass’s approach is anything but emotionally void. The titular role in Akhnaten (1983) is written for a countertenor — something that is almost unheard of in operatic circles.

Today, there are some contemporary works for countertenors, including “Boy” in George Benjamin’s Written on Skin (2012), Trinculo in Thomas Adès The Tempest (2004), and the Refugee in Jonathan’ Dove’s Flight, (1998) to highlight a few. Nowadays, countertenors (or women) are used in period productions instead of castrati.

In Akhnaten the text is derived from ancient writings in Akkadian, Egyptian, and Hebrew. However, instead of a traditional narrative arc, the story is told through a series of tableaux. It is the visual impact that elevates the opera to a multi-sensory experience. Furthermore, the Pharaoh’s Hymn to the Sun is an emotional and moving experience.

The Fall of the House of Usher

The Fall of the House of Usher, by Philip Glass, 1987

“Poe’s famous horror story has fascinated poets, dramatists and composers for over a century. Poe hints at much, but states hardly anything at all. Is the story real, or is it a hallucination? What are [sic] the relationship between the narrator (William), his friend Roderick Usher, and Roderick’s dying sister, Madeline? Has she been buried alive, or is it a demon from hell who takes such a spectacular revenge at the end? And is the vast house in which they live a living malignant entity? Incest, homosexuality, murder, and the supernatural hang in the air, but then again, such things may exist only in the imagination of the audience” (Philip Glass, 2019).

The opera, composed in 1987, is based on Edgar Allan Poe’s gothic masterpiece and short story, The Fall of the House of Usher, published in 1839. Although the opera is based on Poe’s story, Glass regards it as a “score of eighty-five minutes of musical atmosphere with a simple tale at the bottom of it” and the main aim was not to relay a story but to provide a “scope for an emotional examination of Poe’s world.”

Like Einstein, this opera also uses a fragmentary narrative to drive the storyline forward, but it also gives us a glimpse into the psychological world of Roderick Usher. Again, minimalism features strongly in the opera with gradual harmonic and rhythmic shifts. Other times the slow shifts are replaced by quickly changing time signatures combined with the same harmonies in succession.

Another standout feature is Madeline’s near-constant wordless vocalese on the stage — instead of the traditional aria(s) she is ever present on and off the stage. This helps to heighten the psychological underpinnings of the opera.

Final Thoughts

Glass’s unique approach to adapting texts and tales in his storytelling and music inspired new generations of composers to explore the boundaries of opera and open it to a wider audience. His collaborations with legendary names such as Robert Wilson and others throughout his career have driven his operas forward.

Glass specifically writes his operas in a way that allows for clear text declamation, making the words accessible to the audience. The combination of minimalism and a focus on textual clarity continues to push the boundaries of opera. While the music might be minimalist, it gives the visual impact a solid foundation to build upon and express a wide range of emotions.

Although the trilogy of biographical operas (Einstein on the Beach, Satyagraha, and Akhnaten) are epic, long-form works, they still embrace Glass’s minimalist ethos of focusing on rhythm and harmony to drive the storyline forward. The Fall of the House of Usher is one of his shorter works that allows audiences to experience opera without sitting through a lengthy production. His shorter operas make opera accessible to a wider audience and Glass helped to shape the future of the ever-evolving world of opera.

Select Bibliography and Further Reading

Author Events. (2019, July 1). Philip Glass | Words Without Music [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=taRFqJSCgLk

Bryan, J. H. (2024). German town; Degenerate Art exhibit in Munich. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. https://collections.ushmm.org/search/catalog/irn1000681 Accessed at United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of Library of Congress.

Giannini, F., & Baratta, I. (2017, July 19). Entartete Kunst: The Nazi exhibition condemning degenerate art. Finestre sull’Arte. https://www.finestresullarte.info/en/works-and-artists/entartete-kunst-the-nazi-exhibition-condemning-degenerate-art

Glass, P. (2015). Music without words: A memoir. Faber & Faber.

Page, T. (1989). Philip Glass (1989). In Writings on Glass: Essays, interviews, criticism (pp. 3–11). University of California Press.

As an artistic genre, animal painting was never considered to be particularly high and revered, but it was almost universally admired. Yet, one female artist named Rosa Bonheur managed to make a groundbreaking career, becoming the wealthiest artist of her era. Her paintings of cows, horses, rabbits, and lions were filled with tender feelings and confident professionalism. Read on to become familiarized with five important works by Rosa Bonheur.

1. Rosa Bonheur’s Lesser Known Bronzes: A Sheep Resting

Rosa Bonheur was the most famous painter of her time, and perhaps the most successful painter of animals of all time. Her father was an artist too, who encouraged equal and mixed-gender education for all people regardless of their class and age. For that reason, he eagerly trained his four children and arranged opportunities for practice and study.

Rosa Bonheur showed an early inclination towards painting animals. Even in her pre-school years, she learned letters by drawing small images of animals next to the letters that their names corresponded to. Over the years, she developed her passion into a successful career. In her later years, she even arranged for a menagerie of lions and gazelles to be placed in her chateau for her to care for, study, and paint.

Despite being famous for painting, Rosa Bonheur enjoyed working with animal sculpture as well, although he initially resorted to it out of necessity. As a young artist in training, she attended farms and slaughterhouses, studying the anatomy, bones, and muscles of dead animals. Not content enough with the amount of knowledge she received, Bonheur decided to try her hand at dissecting animals. This was a popular practice among not only medical students but also artists of the time, with some even attending human dissections in anatomical theaters. Still, Rosa Bonheur never felt comfortable enough with blood and blades. Seeking an alternative, she resorted to sculpture as a way to study the three-dimensional movement of animals, their body parts, and their range of motion without having to dissect bodies.

2. The Most Famous Work of Rosa Bonheur: The Horse Fair, 1852-55

The Horse Fair was and remains the signature work of Rosa Bonheur, and the one that brought her almost instant fame and recognition. Ambitious about her subject, she approached several patrons, offering them the finished work in exchange for funding, but none of them were ready to put significant funds into a large-scale project of a horse market. While working on the painting, Bonheur attended the market regularly, disguised as a man to avoid unwanted attention. Her finished work was a two-hundred-inch-long scene of emotional intensity and strong character, expressed by both men and horses. Bonheur compared The Horse Fair to the famous Parthenon Frieze, the Ancient Greek relief of equestrian warriors, that is now on display in the British Museum, to the great disdain of the Greek side.

The painting became an immediate sensation. Queen Victoria herself requested a private viewing of it during the artist’s visit to England. Commissions flooded the artist, soon making her the most famous and wealthiest painter of her time—not just the most famous woman painter. Soon, she painted four smaller replicas and several watercolor copies of the work at the request of her clients.

Bonheur’s younger brother, also an artist, made a bronze relief based on the painting to be placed on Bonheur’s monument. Unfortunately, it was destroyed during World War II. All four of the Bonheur siblings became painters and sculptors, focusing primarily on animals. Some regard this as the influence of their father, a painter and educator, and others as an example of the hereditary genius—the genetically predisposed talent.

Bonheur’s success brought her not only a string of commissions and a large circle of patrons, but social obligations as well. Visitors filled her studio, and invitations to social occasions and exhibitions became overwhelming. Apart from growing connections and securing a steady income, Bonheur also became preoccupied with the new form of responsibility. The public was favorable but demanding, eagerly waiting for new paintings, new shows, and new achievements. In order to maintain her creativity in a healthy and productive way, the artist decided to act. In the late 1850s, Bonheur retired from social life and settled in a newly purchased chateau in Fontainebleau. She still painted on commission but maintained most communication through her agent, London art dealer Ernest Gambart.

Despite being born and living in France, Bonheur’s work received much more critical acclaim in Great Britain, sometimes attracting bitter criticism from the French. She was not too eager to accept belated praise, however. On several instances, after the officials offered her money for the previously rejected commissions, she refused, preferring to find another customer. For that reason, The Horse Fair, initially underestimated by the French authorities, ended up at the Metropolitan Museum rather than a Parisian institution.

3. The Gender-Based Criticism of the Artist’s Time: Weaning the Calves, 1879

Many art critics noticed the supposed masculinity of Rosa Bonheur’s work. In the nineteenth century, women artists were believed to possess specific qualities and inherent aesthetic perceptions that made their works immediately distinguishable from those of their male colleagues. Bonheur’s work, however, had no such distinction, with the bold stroke of brush, strong understanding of composition, and theoretical basis. And still, Bonheur’s paintings of animals often mix deep psychologism with tenderness and gentle admiration, like in her images of calves.

The notorious art critic John Ruskin has seen Bonheur’s work but remained staunchly convinced that no woman could paint. Ruskin had a personal animosity towards French art in any shape or form and insisted that France did not have a distinctive painting tradition at all, unlike Britain. For his nationalistic commentary, he was mocked by artists of both countries, but nonetheless, Ruskin remained influential for decades, partially due to his endorsement of the Pre-Raphaelites. Still, Rosa Bonheur was not too charmed by him, stating Ruskin had the eye of a bird for art—and not in the sense of its sharpness, but as if seeing it through a tiny pin-sized hole.

4. Rosa Bonheur’s Favorite Animals: Two Horses, 1889

Horses were perhaps the favorite animals, frequently painted by Bonheur. She was a skilled horserider, and always rode astride rather than side saddle, in a manner that was considered exclusively male and indecent for women. While working on The Horse Fair, Bonheur studied the behaviors and characters of horses well enough to develop a deep connection to them. In her diary, she left a note: “The horse is, like man, the most beautiful and most miserable of creatures, only, in the case of man, it is vice or property that makes him ugly. He is responsible for his own decadence, while the horse is only a slave.”

Perhaps, our present-day dismissal of Rosa Bonheur’s art rests on the fact that her works were rather conservative and conventional, representing a commonly shared good taste. Their great quality is diminished by the lack of a hint of a scandal, provocation, or challenge. She was not interested in defying artistic conventions, instead choosing to celebrate nature in its beauty with great attention to the tiniest of details. She was a Realist painter, but not the Courbet-type provocative Realist with raw imagery. Her realism is soft and pleasant, evoking tenderness and childhood memories.

Even her unconventional lifestyle was never performative. She was known to prefer men’s attire to dresses and even received a special municipal permit for cross-dressing, which was then illegal in Paris. Still, she highlighted that it was a choice of convenience rather than a political statement since working in slaughterhouses and stables in dresses was rather uncomfortable. Even her personal life, although raising rumors, was quiet and closed off from the rest of the world. Bonheur spent almost half a century living with a fellow painter Nathalie Micas, stating that they would gladly marry and raise children if one of them was a man.

5. Finishing Other Artist’s Work: Rosa Bonheur With a Bull

Although there are no known self-portraits painted by Bonheur, she was depicted by other artists. Most of her portraits were painted by her partner and biographer, Anna Klumpke. Klumpke spent four years with Bonheur after the death of the artist’s previous partner, Nathalie Micas. After Bonheur passed away, Klumpke was announced as the sole benefactor in the painter’s will, with all archives, paintings, and property passing to her. Klumpke made sure to protect Bonheur’s heritage and even published a memoir on their life together.

One particular portrait, however, stands out from the collection of Bonheur’s faces. Painted in 1857 by the French society painter Edouard Dubufe, the artist was shown with her arm gently placed on the neck of a bull and a paintbrush in her hand. The bull’s gentle ears and textured nose seem almost intruding in the rest of the picture as if it was never intended to be there. Well, it was, but the feeling that something is off can be easily explained. Dubufe, who specialized in official and pompous portraits of his commissioners in lavish dresses and expensive jewelry, painted only Bonheur’s figure. The bull was a later addition made by Rosa Bonheur herself, as a marker of her own love for animals and artistic specialization.

Every year, sites like the Colosseum, Pompeii, the pyramids of Giza, or Machu Picchu receive millions of visitors, intrigued by the aura of mystery and past glory surrounding ancient ruins. Indeed, the monuments and artifacts left behind by ancient civilizations not only allow scholars to study the past, but also offer us a glimpse into the people who created and used them. Unfortunately, only a small number of physical remnants of the ancient past have survived. Here are ten ancient cultural and architectural landmarks that we have lost forever.

1. Temple of Artemis at Ephesus

• Date lost: c. 260s AD
• Overview: A grand temple dedicated to the goddess Artemis, a wonder of the ancient world.

In one of his poems, where he compiled one of the earliest known lists of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, Greek poet Antipater of Sidon commented: “when I saw the house of Artemis that mounted to the clouds, those other marvels lost their brilliancy, and I said, ‘Lo, apart from Olympus, the Sun never looked on aught so grand.’” Greek geographer Pausanias was equally impressed by the place of worship, describing it as “surpassing all buildings among men.”

One of the largest ancient Greek temples, over 350 by 180 feet (about 110 by 55 meters), the temple of Artemis (Roman Diana), the goddess of hunting, was built at Ephesus (in present-day Turkey) by Croesus, the famously wealthy king of Lydia in about 550 BC. Ephesus, one of the most influential cities in Ionian Asia Minor, was said to have been founded by an Amazonian queen and had long been associated with religious worship.

In 356, the temple of Artemis was burned by Herostatus, a man who hoped his arson would secure his fame. According to Plutarch, on the night of the fire, the goddess was absent from the temple as she was assisting in the birth of Alexander the Great. Once rebuilt, the temple soon became a wonder of the ancient world.

However, in the 260s AD, the temple of Artemis was ravaged by the Goths and later destroyed with the spread of Christianity. Today, a single column and the foundations are all that remain of the wondrous building.

2. House of Wisdom

• Date lost: 1258 AD
• Overview: A royal library built in Baghdad by the Abbasids during the Islamic Golden Age.

The House of Wisdom (Bayt al-Hikmah) was a royal library and cultural center founded by the Abbasid caliphs in Baghdad. After overthrowing the Umayyad dynasty in 750 AD, al-Mansur transferred the capital of the Islamic world from Damascus to Baghdad, a location closer to his Persian support base.

Built at the crossroads of the Silk Road, the trading route connecting Europe to China, the new capital, distinctive for its circular form, soon became a leading center not only for trade, but also for science and culture. Indeed, the Abbasid caliphs’ extensive patronage of the arts and sciences laid the groundwork for the development of the Islamic Golden Age.

In this intellectually stimulating period, the House of Wisdom became a leading center of scholarship, where copyists, bookbinders, and librarians amassed an eclectic collection on a wide variety of topics, such as Zoroastrian religion, alchemy, astronomy, medicine, geography, and chemistry. Among those working at the House of Wisdom was mathematician and astronomer Muḥammad ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi, usually credited as the “father of algebra.”

Scholars affiliated with the House of Wisdom also translated major works of Persian and Greek literature into Arabic, thus preserving knowledge that would have been otherwise lost. In the 14th century, these translations would play a key role in the “rediscovery” of antiquity that stood at the heart of the European Renaissance.

Unfortunately, the priceless collection held at the House of Wisdom was destroyed in 1258, when the Mongol forces sacked Baghdad.

3. Hanging Gardens of Babylon

• Date lost: 1st century AD
• Overview: Terraced gardens allegedly built by Nebuchadnezzar II; one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

According to legend, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon were built by King Nebuchadnezzar II as a gift for his wife Amtis of Media, who missed the green landscapes of her homeland. Besides their impressive size, the self-watering system of irrigation also impressed ancient visitors, prompting them to include the lush terraces in the list of the wonders of the world.

In ancient Mesopotamia, extensive gardens were seen as symbols of the empire’s power, impressing visitors with their exotic vegetation flourishing thanks to advanced irrigation systems. The image of a garden as a serene and enclosed place, separated from the world, has long fascinated humankind and is closely associated with the concept of paradise. The link is emphasized by the most widely accepted etymology of the word “paradise,” traced back to the Old Iranian term pairi-daeza, meaning “walled enclosure.”

According to Strabo, the gardens were “vaulted terraces, raised one above another, and resting upon cube-shaped pillars. These are hollow and filled with earth to allow trees of the largest size to be planted.” The lush vegetation was watered through a series of engines pumping water from the nearby Euphrates River.

As no certain archaeological traces of the Hanging Gardens have been found, scholars disagree on what they may have looked like, with some even doubting if they ever existed. According to some theories, the Gardens were created on the rooftops of the royal palace in Babylon. Others believe they were built within the palace’s walls.

More recently, Oxford Assyriologist Stephanie Dalley has suggested the Hanging Gardens were actually built by King Sennacherib at Nineveh, a city the Assyrians, who conquered Babylon in the 7th century, called the New Babylon. Regardless of their location, the gardens are now lost forever, destroyed by an earthquake in the 1st century AD.

4. Lighthouse of Alexandria

• Date lost: c. 14th century AD
• Overview: A 350-feet-tall lighthouse on Pharos Island near Alexandria; one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

The Lighthouse (or Pharos) of Alexandria, one of the wonders of the ancient world, was built by Sostratus of Cnidus. The construction process began during the reign of Ptolemy I Soter and ended in about 280 BC, when his son, Ptolemy II, sat on the throne.

Erected on the island of Pharos in the harbor of Alexandria in Egypt, the impressive construction—it is said the lighthouse was more than 350 feet/110 meters high—aided ships navigating near the coastline, guiding and warning them of hazards. The tower was likely built in three stages and toppled with a statue, possibly of Alexander the Great or Ptolemy I.

The lighthouse was still active in the 12th century. By the 14th century, however, it had already been destroyed.

5. Great Library of Alexandria

• Date lost: disputed
• Overview: A royal library and leading center of scholarship built by the Ptolemaic dynasty in Alexandria.

Like the House of Wisdom in Baghdad, the Great Library of Alexandria was also a leading ancient cultural center, the most famous of Classical antiquity.

The construction of the library began in about 295 BC, when Ptolemy I Soter tasked Demetrius of Phaleron, an Athenian member of Aristotle’s Peripatetic school, with overseeing the ambitious project. In the following years, the library amassed an impressive collection of books and manuscripts, and, with the nearby Museum, it became an illustrious center of research and literary and scientific scholarship.

To this day, the events that led to the Library of Alexandria’s destruction remain a matter of debate. According to Plutarch, the library was destroyed in 48 BC, when Julius Caesar set fire to the Ptolemaic fleet during the civil war between Cleopatra and his brother. “Many places were set on fire, with the result that the docks and the storehouses of grain among other buildings were burned, and also the library, whose volumes, it is said, were of the greatest number and excellence,” commented Plutarch.

According to some scholars, the Serapeum, a branch of the library located in the temple of Serapis, survived the fire. It likely remained active until 391 AD, when the bishop of Alexandria, Theophilus, demolished it following Theodosius’ decree banning pagan worship.

6. Mausoleum at Halicarnassus

• Date lost: 15th century AD
• Overview: A grand tomb built for King Mausolus of Caria and his wife, Artemis; one of the Wonders of the Ancient World.

The tomb of Mausolus, king of Caria, was built in Halicarnassus, the main city of the kingdom and the birthplace of Herodotus (the “Father of History”) between about 353 and 351 BC. Upon inheriting the throne after his father died in 377 BC, Mausolus launched a project of urban aggrandizement as part of his efforts to expand Halicarnassus’ influence in the Mediterranean.

After his death, his wife (and sister) Artemisia II, a powerful leader in her own right, tasked the leading Greek architects and artists with the construction of a monumental tomb to perpetuate Mausolus’ legacy, a project likely initiated by Mausolus himself. Architects Satyros and Pythius of Priene designed the tomb, while sculptors Leochares, Bryaxis, Scopas, and Timotheus created reliefs to adorn the massive structure’s sides.

Artemisia died shortly after the beginning of the Mausoleum’s construction, but her successors completed the work. The final result was a colossal tomb that became one of the wonders of the ancient world. According to Pliny the Elder, it was surrounded by 36 columns and surmounted by a marble chariot pulled by four horses.

The tomb stood on a hill overlooking Halicarnassus until the 15th century, when a series of earthquakes destroyed it. Today, countless stately tombs around the world, known as mausoleums from the Mausoleum in Halicarnassus, testify to the monument’s legacy and influence.

7. Colossus of Rhodes

• Date lost: toppled in 255/56 BC; destroyed in 654 AD
• Overview: A massive statue of the sun god Helius; one the the Wonders of the Ancient World.

Toward the end of the 3rd century BC, all those entering the harbor of Rhodes, the major city of the island of Rhodes in the Aegean Sea, would have hardly missed the colossus statue of the sun god Helius, erected beside Mandrákion harbor in 282 BC.

Created by Chares of Lindos, the statue, known as the Colossus of Rhodes, was said to have taken 12 years to build. Made of bronze and reinforced with iron, the Colossus commemorated the end of Demetrius Poliorcetes’ siege of the city. Launched during the political instability of the Hellenistic world after the death of Alexander the Great, the siege aimed to persuade the Rhodians to withdraw their support for Ptolemy, the ruler of Egypt.

After the unsuccessful siege, the Rhodians used the equipment abandoned by Demetrius’ forces to erect a monument commemorating their resistance. The result was a colossal statue, 105 feet (32 meters) high, that became one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Impressed by the Colossus’ size and splendor, Roman Emperor Nero built an enormous statue of himself next to the artificial lake at the center of his domus aurea (Golden House) in Rome.

The Colossus of Rhodes welcomed ships entering the city’s harbor until about 255/256 BC, when an earthquake toppled it. The fallen statue remained lying in the spot where it fell for about 900 years. “Even as it lies, it excites our wonder and admiration,” commented Pliny the Elder in his The Natural History. Then, in 654 AD, the Arab forces raiding Rhodes melted it down and sold the bronze for scraps.

8. Ancient Ruins of Palmyra

• Date lost: 2015
• Overview: An archaeological site in Syria included in the UNESCO World Heritage list in 1980.

Built on an oasis located halfway between the Mediterranean Sea and the Euphrates River, the ancient city of Palmyra (south-central Syria) rose to prominence in the 3rd century BC, when it became one of the main trading routes connecting the Roman world with the East.

Originally known as Tadmur, Tadmor, or Tudmun, the city was renamed Palmyra, meaning “city of palm trees,” by the Romans in the 1st century BC. While under Roman control, Palmyra remained a prosperous city, and, in about 129, Hadrian made it a civitas libera (free city). It was later exempted from paying taxes to the Roman Empire by Caracalla.

In the 3rd century, Zenobia, the second wife of the governor of Syria, Septimius Odaenathus (probably assassinated on her order), became queen of Palmyra, launching a successful campaign against the Romans in Anatolia. In 273, however, Emperor Aurelian, who regained control of Anatolia the year before, raided Palmyra. In 643, the city was then conquered by the Muslim general Khalid ibn al-Walid.

In 1980, the ruins of ancient Palmyra became a UNESCO World Heritage site, with thousands of visitors admiring the ancient remains every year. In May 2012, however, when ISIS took control of Palmyra during the Syrian civil war, its forces destroyed several of the site’s monuments, including the Temple of Bel, the Arch of Triumph, built by Septimius Severus, and the Temple of Baal Shamin.

9. Statue of Zeus at Olympia

• Date lost: 5th century AD
• Overview: A colossal statue of Zeus created by Phidias for the temple of Zeus at Olympia; one of the Wonders of the Ancient World.

Another wonder of the ancient world, the statue of Zeus at Olympia was created by the Greek sculptor Phidias, the artist who also sculpted the statue of Athena in the Parthenon at Athens.

Made of gold and ivory, the statue, located inside the temple of Zeus at Olympia, depicted Zeus, the ruler of the Greek gods, sitting on a throne made of cedarwood and adorned with precious stones, gold, ivory, and ebony. In his outstretched right hand, the colossal statue (almost 4o feet/12 meters high) held a statue of Nike, the goddess of victory. In his left hand, Zeus had a scepter.

Said to have captured the divine nature of Zeus, the statue likely survived the destruction of the temple of Zeus at Olympia. Probably moved to Constantinople, it was destroyed in a fire that ravaged the city in the 5th century.

While the statue of Zeus is now lost forever, reconstructions based on ancient Greek and Roman coins and paintings give us an idea of what it may have looked like to ancient visitors passing through Olympia.

10. Menorah From the Second Temple

• Date lost: after 71 AD
• Overview: A golden multibranched candelabra located in the Jewish temple of Jerusalem; looted by the Romans in 70 AD.

One of the bas-reliefs carved into the Arch of Titus on the via Sacra shows a seven-branched candelabra carried on litters: the menorah. The religious object was part of the spoils of war paraded through Rome during Titus’ triumph following the 70 AD sack of Jerusalem.

Until the outbreak of the First Jewish-Roman War, sparked by the sack of the Second Temple (built by Herod the Great) and the execution of thousands of Jews, the menorah was displayed inside the temple in Jerusalem. First mentioned in the book of Exodus, the design of the multibranched candelabra had been revealed to Moses directly by God on Mount Sinai.

When the Jews rebuilt the temple in Jerusalem, after finally returning from their exile in Babylon, they also forged a golden menorah and placed it inside the building. In 169 BC, however, it was taken by King Antiochus IV Epiphanes when he sacked the temple. When Judas Maccabee successfully defended his country from the Syrian kingdom’s invasion, he commissioned the creation of a new menorah, the one seized by the Roman forces in 70 AD.

After it arrived in Rome the following year, the menorah seemingly disappeared, never to be seen again. Flavius Josephus reported that most of the treasures looted by Titus were later placed inside the Temple of Peace by Emperor Vespasian. However, whether the menorah was also brought there remains unclear. Byzantine historian Procopius of Caesarea later wrote that the treasures were returned to Jerusalem after the sacks of Rome in 410 and 455. However, he did not explicitly mention the menorah.

Its disappearance has led to the spread of numerous legends about the menorah’s fate. One urban myth even claims that it was hidden inside the Vatican. In 2012, a scan using UV-VIS Absorption Spectrometry made by a team of scholars associated with the Arch of Titus Project revealed the menorah on the bas-relief was once painted with a yellow ochre pigment, suggesting it was indeed the golden menorah from the Second Temple.

Music that you can dance to, cry to, smile to, and even philosophize to: over the centuries, composers have plumbed the depths of music’s emotional range and place in our lives. There’s no denying that this history is dominated by big names like Johann Sebastian Bach, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and Ludwig van Beethoven, key figures in what we call the Western canon. But, although the image of the isolated genius in a garret channeling divine inspiration is potent, no composer truly works alone. Music history is the story of many contributors, some more visible than others.

1. The Father of Opera: Jean-Baptiste Lully

There are a couple of misconceptions behind the mythological image of the godlike genius composer, embodied in Beethoven in particular. One: the composer stands apart from state affairs and ploughs his own furrow, driven by an uncompromising notion of art. Two: the composer, through his refusal to compromise, finds it difficult to make a living.

Jean-Baptiste Lully’s career contradicts both ideas. Something of a rags-to-riches figure, Lully rose up in the ranks of Louis XIV’s court, in the mid-17th century, to become the court’s foremost composer, employed to write incidental music for the king’s entertainments. As such, he was closely involved with politics (though he frequently sailed close to the wind, earning Louis’s disfavor with his sometimes tyrannical behavior and sexual misdemeanors) and ultimately quite rich.

Lully also impacted music history through his compositions. Despite his Italian birth, he is considered the father of French opera, transporting this originally Italian form of music theater to Louis’s court and making key alterations to appeal to French audiences. French opera, following Lully’s interventions, tended not to separate arias (self-contained pieces for solo voice) from recitativo (a kind of sung speech used to deliver much of the plot in operas).

He also introduced much more dance into opera, making it a more all-encompassing theatrical event. Lully was an accomplished dancer himself and innovated the genre of comédie-ballet. Many of these theatrical works were written in collaboration with the playwright Molière, an early instance of the fruitful possibilities in interactions between music and literature.

Lully is a crucial figure in music history for his changes to the relationship between vocal music and the orchestra, to the perception of ballet in music theater, and for showing, just about, that composers could get on well with rulers of state.

2. The Touring Pianist: Clara Schumann

No one embodies the developments in music across the course of the Romantic period, spanning the entire 19th century, better than Clara Schumann. A child prodigy like Mozart (benefiting, like him, from a devoted, if domineering, teacher who was also her father), she became in adulthood a consummate professional who could do it all, in keeping with new ideas about musicians and their abilities.

By the mid-19th century, audiences were flocking to hear performances by virtuosi, exceptionally talented musicians who would give dazzling displays of both their own works and works from the newly developing canon. Clara Schumann’s piano concerts were instrumental in establishing this core of composers, past and present, who were considered great. She regularly programmed music by Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Franz Schubert, Felix Mendelssohn, Frédéric Chopin, and her husband Robert Schumann.

Clara Schumann is known to many as Robert’s wife, and her impact on music history is partly due to this partnership. As a prolific pianist and the daughter of Robert’s piano teacher, she influenced the style of his piano song cycles and served as his muse, with several pieces containing coded references only comprehensible to them (Robert was keen on musical cryptograms). Both Schumanns also supported Johannes Brahms early in his career, helping him on his way to becoming one of Europe’s heavyweight composers by the late 19th century.

Yet Clara changed music history on her own merits. After her husband died following a long battle with mental illness in 1854, Clara was left with eight children to support. She balanced this with a career as one of classical music’s first and foremost touring artists, at a time of vast expansion in the musical world. There was a market for chamber music concerts in cities across Europe, and Clara traveled far beyond her native Germany to Russia and to England, the latter 19 times.

She laid the groundwork for modern traditions in concert programming, blending revered canonical pieces with new, exciting works, performing everything from memory and respectfully honoring the composer’s intentions with greater accuracy than many virtuosi before her.

3. The Modernist: Arnold Schoenberg

There would most likely be no Arnold Schoenberg without Richard Wagner, the 19th-century titan whose experiments in chromaticism and the expansion of musical form changed composition forever. Although Wagner revered ancient Greek theater and aimed to revert to its principles, it was his sense of breaking free from classical limitations that made him so influential to successors as diverse as Richard Strauss, Igor Stravinsky, and Claude Debussy.

Different again is Schoenberg, who took Wagner’s experiments in harmony one step further. Moving beyond the idea that a piece of music should find coherence in its harmonic underpinning—that is, being fixed in a key, on which all the piece’s chords are built—Schoenberg looked instead to patterns and motifs.

The twelve-tone method, also called serialism, is based on approaching all 12 notes in a chromatic scale equally. Composers using this method, such as Schoenberg and his pupils in what became known as the Second Viennese School, avoid repeating any note from the scale within a sequence (known as a ‘tone row’) and giving it greater importance than the others.

Underlying the principles of twelve-tone is a democratic perspective, which was echoed in Schoenberg’s life. His music was radically modernist, including alongside serialism a new technique called Sprechstimme or spoken singing, a delivery pitched between speech and music, on display in his song cycle Pierrot lunaire (1912).

When the Nazis came to power, they denounced the music of Schoenberg and the Second Viennese School (as well as jazz) as degenerate and banned it. Refusing to be intimidated, Schoenberg emigrated to the US, where he wrote music that attacked tyrants and expressed compassion for their victims.

4. The Dissident? Dmitri Shostakovich

Like Schoenberg, Dmitri Shostakovich proved that music can be so powerful that dictatorships see fit to restrict it. Like many artists in the Soviet Union, Shostakovich was forced to live in fear, watching out for the changing tide.

What does it mean to follow the party line as a composer? Music does not ‘say’ or ‘show’ things in the way a novel, a painting, or a work of theater can. In the case of Shostakovich’s early opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (1936), it was condemned as a “muddle instead of music” after Joseph Stalin attended a performance and left before the end, disappointed with its “coarse, primitive and vulgar” sound.

According to the Soviet regime, composers ought to use a “popular musical language accessible to all.” It was about connecting with the people, not pursuing complex, formalist, avant-garde innovation. In this sense, the Soviet regime held the same mistrust towards Schoenberg and twelve-tone (and, for some time, jazz) as did the Nazi regime. Both saw atonality, arrhythmia, and dissonance as symptoms of societal decay that would have no place in their brave new worlds.

After Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk and a close call with the law, Shostakovich composed music more calculated to appeal to Stalin and his associates, and rose through the ranks to receive the highest honors available in the Soviet Union—though he never felt truly secure in his position.

All this time, he wrote works “for the desk drawer” which were not performed until after Stalin’s death, including the satirical cantata Antiformalist Rayok. ‘Rayok’ is a Russian term for a comedic peep-show, and Shostakovich’s was a send-up of Soviet cultural dictates, even incorporating references to Stalin’s favorite Georgian folk song.

Shostakovich’s career is a testament to the perseverance and persistence of art. Had he been born in another time, another place, he might have done more, he felt. Yet he trod carefully, avoiding collusion but acting pragmatically to ensure he could continue writing (publicly and privately) the music that made him one of the best-loved composers of his generation.

5. The Genre-Hopper: George Gershwin

While regimes in Europe denounced jazz, often in explicitly racist terms by framing it as the music of a culture they deemed inferior, it had a different relationship to classical music in 20th-century America. Although by no means instantly embraced by white musicians and audiences, music historically made by African American composers and performers was more freely interpolated into and alongside classical forms and styles.

Many American composers in the early 20th century felt their work was hybrid by default. The European classical tradition was omnipresent. Many of America’s music teachers and publishers had come over from Europe, and its concert halls were modeled on European ones, its stages filled with European players. Yet American composers were conscious, in keeping with the trend for nationalist music sweeping Europe at the same time, that their music could express something distinctly American.

George Gershwin brought elements of jazz, ragtime, and blues into typically classical works such as concertos and operas. His sounds echo the bustling, diverse cityscape of his native New York. He was not the only composer seeking to expand the limits of classical composition in this period, but he was the most successful one.

Gershwin was a far cry from the mid-19th-century popular image of the composer, profoundly influenced by perceptions of Beethoven: a Bohemian, starving in a garret somewhere, railing against government and society. Working in 1920s New York, Gershwin benefited from the explosion of a market for popular music. As well as writing large-scale symphonic works for orchestra, he composed songs for voice and piano.

His most lucrative successes were on stage and screen. The opera Porgy and Bess (1935) was staged with an African American cast—as stipulated by George and his librettist, his brother Ira—and has become a fixture in the operatic canon, with the song ‘Summertime’ in particular becoming a lasting classic.

As well as writing songs, operas, and musicals, Gershwin recorded his music for radio and film, taking full advantage of new developments in recording technology. His openness to working across musical styles and contexts made him, according to one calculation, the richest composer of all time.

But it’s not just about the money. Gershwin’s genius lay in capturing in music a specific time and place: Jazz Age New York. As he wrote: “True music must repeat the thoughts and aspirations of the people and the time. My people are American. My time is today.”

6. The Pioneer: Ethel Smyth

There were female composers before Ethel Smyth: Clara Schumann, for one. Back in the Middle Ages, the nun Hildegard of Bingen had written reams of sacred music. The Baroque period saw singer-composers such as Barbara Strozzi and Francesca Caccini.

Some women’s compositions were eclipsed by their reputation as performers or association with male composers, as in the case of Pauline Viardot and Fanny Mendelssohn. By the late 19th century, female composers (such as Cécile Chaminade) were studying at the Paris Conservatoire and receiving instruction from female teachers (such as Louise Farrenc).

Ethel Smyth, born in 1858, was not the first woman to compose, nor the first woman to make a living from composing. She changed the course of music history, though, by being so vocal about what it was like to be a female composer. Smyth was also, arguably, the first feminist composer.

In a history still dominated by male names, Smyth’s feminist approach to being a composer is important. When the prodigiously talented Smyth began to study at the prestigious Leipzig Conservatory (founded by Felix Mendelssohn), she knew she had to work twice as hard as her male peers to gain recognition. This was a time when most music journalism still parroted the commonplace that women were mentally unsuited for writing music. She befriended Brahms, met Edvard Grieg and Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, but still faced the judgment that her music was pretty good for a woman.

On top of this, Smyth was criticized for writing ‘masculine’ music. Many female composers before her had stuck to permissible forms such as songs and short, often instructive pieces. Smyth’s music was large-scale in every possible respect. She wrote a mass, string serenades, concertos, and operas. They were daring, powerful, stylistically continuing where Brahms had left off.

One of Smyth’s best-known works is ‘The March of the Women’ (1911), written in support of the women’s suffrage movement and adopted as an anthem by the Women’s Social and Political Union, of which Smyth was a member. She was arrested along with 100 other women for throwing stones at the house of a prominent politician. During her two-month stint at Holloway Prison, she could be found conducting her fellow inmates in a rousing chorus of ‘March of the Women,’ using her toothbrush as a baton.

Smyth was a keen writer too, and left several volumes of memoir, written continuously throughout her adult life until shortly before her death in 1944. These volumes are as important a contribution to music history as her music itself. They reveal Smyth as a fun-loving but uncompromising character. Her memoirs show Smyth’s strong will, her belief in her own musical abilities, and the need to blaze a trail for musical women after her. She left for posterity a decisive statement about being a female composer in a world which still, thanks to the powerful mythos of the classical canon, prizes music by men more highly.

“Correction (April 29, 2026): An earlier version of this article contained an error in the headline. It has since been updated to reflect the accurate title. We regret the error.”

Inuit art is an umbrella term because Inuit art is as varied as the people who inhabit the Nunangat (ᐃᓄᐃᑦ ᓄᓇᖓᑦ), the Inuit homeland in Arctic Canada. Inuit people are not a homogeneous group—the Nunangat itself is divided into four regions. Similarly, Inuit culture is not as uniform as some might believe. Since the early 1960s, Baffin Island and Cape Dorset (Kinngait), a small village at the island’s southern tip, have been the site of a uniquely rich Inuit artistic production. To put it with Canadian journalist Sarah Milroy, “ … the resulting phenomenon is unique: with a population of 1,363, Cape Dorset may be the only community in the world where art constitutes the leading industry.” The diverse works of Inuit artists Manasie Akpaliapik, Kenojuak Ashevak, Tim Pitsiulak, and Kananginak Pootoogook, are inextricable from the wildlife and cold landscapes of Baffin Island.

1. Manasie Akpaliapik (ᒫᓇᓯ ᐊᒃᐸᓕᐊᐱᒃ)

Since the 1980s, Manasie Akpaliapik has been creating sculptures from materials such as whale bones, antlers, skulls, walrus tusks, musk ox horns, jawbones, and vertebrae. He has revolutionized Inuit and Canadian art by transforming what caribou and whales have left behind—whether willingly or unwillingly—into evocative masterpieces. In this unique relationship of mutual respect, every part of the animal is used, as each fragment, even the smallest, serves a purpose long after the animal has passed away.

In Inuit tradition, owls are believed to shepherd the spirits of the deceased into the afterlife and ravens are messengers carrying the prayers of the living to the spirit world. In Inuit traditions, as well as in Manasie’s works, the lives of human beings are inseparable from those of animals.

Born in 1955 in Ikpiarjuk (ᐃᒃᐱᐊᕐᔪᒃ)—which means “the pocket” in Inuktitut, the language of the Inuit—Manasie grew up in a small community of seal hunters in the northern part of Baffin Island, located in the Qikiqtaaluk (ᕿᑭᖅᑖᓗᒃ) region of Nunavut. In this predominantly Inuktitut-speaking community, both his parents, Lazaroosee Akpaliapik and Nakyuraq Akpaliapik, were carvers. He first learned to carve from his great-aunt, Paniluk Qamanirq, and his adoptive grandparents, Elisapee and Peter Kanangnaq Ahlooloo. However, at the age of twelve, Manasie was sent to a residential school in Iqaluit.

For four years, until he left school at 16, he was prohibited from speaking Inuktitut and encouraged to abandon the culture of his people and embrace Christianity on the path to assimilation. In 1980, after the tragic death of his wife and children in a house fire, he moved to Montreal, Québec.

Pond Inlet, not far from Ikpiarjuk, on northern Baffin Island, photograph by Isaac Demeester, 2021. Source: Unsplash

In Montreal, Manasie continued to carve. He also became friends with Raymond Brosseau, one of Canada’s most active art collectors and lovers of Inuit art. Every summer, he returns from his “new” home in Ontario, near Cobourg, to Ikpiarjuk, the homeland of his family and ancestors. There, he undertakes long trips with friends and family, always ready to lend him their boat to search the shores and Arctic waters of Baffin Island for whale bones and caribou antlers.

While Akpaliapik’s artworks are unique and immediately recognizable, they do not exist in a vacuum. They are part of a long-standing tradition, likely the first and oldest Indigenous culture in present-day Canada, which originated thousands of years ago in the Canadian Arctic, one of the most barren and cold regions on Earth.

Arctic Bay, photograph by Isaac Demeester, 2019. Source: Unsplash

Over the years, archaeologists have unearthed various examples of wooden masks and excavated bears and falcons dating back to the High Dorset era (or Dorset Culture). These sculptures, usually made of ivory but also bone, antler, and wood, were initially hollowed out and then perforated so as to resemble harpoon heads.

Archaeologists have also found “swimming figurines,” likely crafted between 1000 and 1200 CE by the Thule people, the ancestors of the Inuit. Usually faceless, these “swimming figurines” depict a vast array of animals, primarily waterbirds and seals, along with human beings and spirits, with their lower bodies invisible beneath the waterline.

Movement is central to Manasie’s creative process. During his journeys from Ontario to the Arctic, he immerses himself in the environment from which the whalebones and caribou antlers originate. He crafts his artworks in what he refers to as the “South,” the Canadian South, but all the materials he uses—from hair to bones—come from the North, the land where his ancestors have lived and died for centuries.

Just as people used to pay tribute to the animals they hunted through homages and rituals, Manasie honors the animals of the Arctic by incorporating their bones, hair, and antlers into his sculptures. Without them, his sculptures would not exist. Manasie’s works blur and discard established categories that tend to draw a line between the animal kingdom and the human race.

In his studio in Ontario, skulls and antlers become vessels for expressing the pain and struggles of his darker days, marked by the death of his wife and children and his alcohol addiction, as we see in his dramatic piece Self-Destruction (1995), currently housed at the Musée National des Beaux-Arts du Québec (MNBAQ).

Manasie has always been vocal about the challenges affecting Inuit communities “up in the North.” In a 2023 interview with Inuit Quarterly, he stated “Alcoholism is one of the biggest problems in the North, and that’s what I was struggling with for a long time. I’ve been sober now for seven years. They always say, if you change your life for the better, then good things will come your way. It’s true—a lot of good things are going my way.”

2. Kenojuak Ashevak (ᕿᓐᓄᐊᔪᐊᖅ ᐋᓯᕙᒃ )

In Inuktitut, the language of the Inuit, Baffin Island is called Qikiqtaaluk (ᕿᑭᖅᑖᓗᒃ), meaning “very big island.” Baffin Island is indeed Canada’s largest island. Kenojuak Ashevak (1927-2013) was born here, in the igloo of her parents, Silaqqi and Ushuakjuk, in the outpost camp of Ikirasaw, on the island’s southern coast. Her father was a hunter, fur trader, and shaman, an angakkuq who claimed he could transform himself into a walrus and predict good hunting seasons. When he died prematurely in 1933, Silaqqi took her six-year-old daughter, Kenojuak, to live with her maternal grandmother, Koweesa.

Growing up with her grandmother, Kenojuak learned the crafts of her ancestors, the Nunatsiarmiut, the Inuit of Baffin Island, commonly referred to as Baffinland Eskimo by the non-Indigenous population. She mastered the complex art of processing and repairing seal skins and learned how to make resistant and waterproof amautiit, the traditional female Inuit parka made of caribou skin.

In 1952, while already married to Johnniebo Ashevak (ᔭᓂᕗ ᐊᓴᕙ), she tested positive for tuberculosis and was sent to Parc Savard Hospital, in Quebec City, one of the oldest cities in North America. She remained here, in the city founded by French explorer Samuel de Champlain (1567-1635) in 1608, for three years, until the summer of 1955. Three years that marked a turning point in her life; it was here that she began to draw extensively and met sculptor Harold Pfeiffer (1908-1997), who encouraged her to pursue beadwork, to create Inuit appliquéd bags and clothing, not just as a hobby, but as a proper job that could sustain her financially. Finally, in the mid-60s, Kenojuak moved with her husband and their children to Cape Dorset, Kinngait (ᑭᙵᐃᑦ), which means “high mountain” in Inuktitut, a hamlet at the southern tip of Baffin Island.

She spent the rest of her life on Kinngait, in her wood-frame home, where, as Sarah Milroy puts it, “she could be found lying on her stomach on a queen-size mattress in her living room, drawing and drawing, making the images that would then be turned into prints over at Kinngait Studios.”

It was in Kinngait that she met James Archibald Houston (1921-2005), designer, children’s author (and later Inuit art promoter), along with his wife Alma. They immediately recognized the beauty and potential of the sealskin bags she was designing, stitching, and beading along with other women in her community, and urged her to translate the figures and scenes she adorned her bags with onto paper. The rest is history. Ashevak’s prints are immediately recognizable for their bright colors, lively graphic buoyancy, and the round, almost dreamlike shapes of the animals she depicts.

The enchanted owls she became known for in the 1970s are always shown facing the viewer. Their feathers pop out from their bodies and extend all around them as if to surround and protect them.

Unlike those painted by other Inuit artists, including her grandson, Tim Pitsiulak, Ashevak’s animals—owls, packs of wolves traversing the Arctic, rabbits eating seaweed, foxes, and “bird humans”—inhabit a dreamlike world devoid of human figures, where the sky and the ground are often left out. In this suspended and serene void, dogs are taunted by birds flying high above them, polar bears roam the Earth accompanied by spirits, birds are caught in mating dances, and loons engage in playful wrestling with Sedna (ᓴᓐᓇ), the Inuit Goddess of the Sea. This is the world Kenojuak grew up in in the 1930s and 1940s, the world of the Canadian Arctic, where wolves and bears roamed freely, and survival could never be taken for granted.

3. Timootee “Tim” Pitsiulak (ᑎᒻ ᐱᓯᐃᓚ)

Kenojuak Ashevak passed away at the age of 85, on January 8, 2013, in her wood-frame home in Kinngait. Two years earlier, when the exhibition Inuit Modern opened in Toronto, she traveled to the Art Gallery of Ontario as a visiting dignitary, accompanied by her nephew, Tim Pitsiulak (1967-2016). Tim was born in Kimmirut (ᑭᒻᒥᕈᑦ), Kuujjua, “Great River,” as it is called in Inuktitut, on southern Baffin Island, on the shore of Hudson Strait, but spent most of his life in Cape Dorset, hunting, drawing, carving, and making jewelry. His parents were Napachie and Timila Pitsiulak.

During his hunting trips, equipped with a gun and a camera, he often took pictures that would become the basis for his artworks. Like Ashevak’s, Tim Pitsiulak’s works prominently feature animals.

Unlike Ashevak’s, however, the animals in his drawings are extremely naturalistic and life-like. The photographic likeness of his white bears, narwhals, weasels, moose, muscular Greenland sharks, weary-eyed caribou, and beluga whales is striking. Animated with a liveliness and agency rarely seen in Western art, Pitsiulak’s animals are both mythical figures and sentient beings, living by their own set of values and morals, as they are caught scratching themselves or deep diving into the frigid arctic waters. The ocean, which Pitsiulak mostly paints in a uniform black and blue, is the realm of whales, walruses, and seals, where they can swim and dive and play freely.

Pitsiulak was also a skilled hunter, who deeply respected Nunavut’s wildlife while also making use of modern technologies, and it shows. In his works, he carefully blends Inuit traditional ways of life and traditions with the modernity represented by motorized boats, rifles, Ski-Doos (snow machines), and flaming orange Caterpillar Telehandlers.

Pitsiulak once said that his “inspiration to be an artist comes from my aunt, Kenojuak Ashevak, because she is the oldest and the best.” In 2013, two of his belugas and a bowhead whale were featured on Canada’s 25-cent coin. 43 years earlier, his grandmother, Kenojuak Ashevak, had seen her print, Enchanted Owl, chosen by Canada Post for a six-cent stamp commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Northwest Territories, making her the first Inuk artist to be featured on a Canada Post stamp.

Today, Pitsiulak’s drawings, lithographs, photographs, and sculptures are housed in museums and galleries across Canada, from the Winnipeg Art Gallery to the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa.

4. Kananginak Pootoogook (ᑲᓇᒋᓇ ᐳᑐᒍᑭ)

In 1959, at the age of 24, Kananginak Pootoogook (1935-2010) created his first print, the Legend of the Blind Man and the Bear, in collaboration with his father, Josephie, a hunter and respected camp leader. The influence of Japanese art and printmaking, introduced to the Cape Dorset Inuit community by James Houston and his wife Alma, is clear in this work. This early print encapsulates Kananginak’s artistic approach, which he maintained and honored from the 1960s (when he produced his first artworks) until his death in 2010.

The Legend of the Blind Man and the Bear transports the onlooker inside a split-open Inuit igloo. The viewer is inside and outside the igloo at the same time, just like the imposing white bear, whose hind legs are outside the igloo, in the snow, while his front legs have already crossed the igloo’s threshold. Inside the igloo, two men—perhaps a father and son—sit together. The man, armed with a bow and arrow, is ready to strike.

Though the scene is naturalistic, the title hints at the legendary origins of the scene represented here. Reality and myth go hand in hand in Pootoogook’s works.

Raised to be a hunter like his father, Kananginak’s life took a significant turn in 1957. Due to his father’s declining health, the Pootoogook family moved from the hunting camp of Ikirassak to Kinngait (Cape Dorset) in Nunavut. Here Kananginak met James Houston and his wife Alma, who dramatically changed the course of his life.

Houston, who had studied printmaking in Japan, introduced Pootoogook and the Cape Dorset community to the works of Japanese master printmaker Un’ichi Hiratsuka. Over the following years, Kananginak helped establish the West Baffin Eskimo Co-operative and eventually became its main spokesperson and president of the Board of Directors.

Like most Inuit artists, Kananginak’s style is unique and immediately recognizable. While Pitsiulak primarily depicted whales, walruses, and caribou, Kananginak focused on birds—such as seagulls, ducks, flying geese, black guillemots, owls, and falcons—to the extent that he earned the nickname “the North’s Audubon,” after French-American artist and ornithologist John James Audubon (1785-1851), famous for his interest in North American bird species.

In later years, particularly from the 1980s onward, Kananginak turned his attention to contemporary Inuit society, to the issues faced by many Inuit communities in Nunavut, such as domestic violence and alcoholism, as well as the impact of outsiders—from traders to missionaries and Canadian authorities—who brought skidoos, electric tools, and heavy machinery to the remote North. Today, the name Pootoogook is synonymous with Inuit drawings and prints.

Kananginak’s niece, Annie Pootoogook (1969-2016), one of the eleven children of his brother Eegyvudluk Pootoogook (1931-2000) and artist Napachie Pootoogook, also became a renowned artist, known for her beautiful depictions of contemporary Inuit society, as seen in the tender In the Summer Camp Tent (2002) or 3 Generations (2004-5). Kananginak’s nephew, Goo Pootoogook (b. 1956), has also gained recognition.

Napachie Pootoogook was a notable artist in her own right and one of the many daughters of Pitseolak Ashoona (1904-1983). Some of her most beautiful paintings focus on Inuit women—women wearing beautiful amauti, practicing throat singing outside their igloo, and singing love songs to their children, as seen in Aqaqtuq (Singing Love Song). Ashoona’s granddaughter, Shuvinai Ashoona, is also a beloved Inuk artist.

Since the early 1960s, hundreds of Inuit prints, drawings, and sculptures have found homes in southern Canada, particularly in Ottawa, Montreal, and Quebec City. In museums, galleries, and corporate boardrooms, non-Inuit Canadians and foreign tourists can admire the works of Manasie Akpaliapik, Kenojuak Ashevak, Tim Pitsiulak, and Kananginak Pootoogook, compare their works and styles, and catch a glimpse of Inuit society. Some viewers will also pine for what Sarah Milroy describes as “the imagined freedoms of a life” in the Inuit Arctic, away from buzzing metropolises, among caribou, moose, and beluga whales. “Whites imagine Inuit, and Inuit imagine whites,” she writes, and “Inuit art is where their fantasies meet.”

However, Inuit art is more than just a meeting of these different perspectives. The prints, drawings, sculptures, and appliqué bags produced in Kinngait, at the southern tip of Baffin Island, have opened a much-needed window into Inuit society and culture for over 50 years.