Robert Delaunay, Simultaneous Contrasts: Sun and Moon, 1912-13
Museum of Modern Art, NYC
Harmony and Dissonance: Orphism in Paris, 1910-1930, the Guggenheim's mammoth effort to explain the movement Orphism to a general audience will close on Sunday, March 9, 2025. Most of the reviews have been unflattering. It's a messy show for the novice. The New York Times, ArtNews, Hyperallergic, etc. seem to agree that this "ambitious" show is about a movement that "never" or "hardly" existed. And yet, the name came into existence when the poet/art critic Guillaume Apollinaire invented his Cubist categories in his essays and subsequent book The Cubist Painters (Paris: Falguière, 1913). Apollinaire called this tendency "Orphic Cubism," tying together the artists Robert Delaunay, Fernand Léger, Francis Picabia, and Marcel Duchamp. Among these four artists, only Robert Delaunay and his wife Sonia Delaunay deserve full recognition as Orphists. Frantisek Kupka was a close friend and ally of the Delaunays, often considered a full-fledged Orphist, but he rejected being classified under this label. His exploration of color and "thought-forms," gleaned from theosophy, most likely influenced the Delaunays rather than the other way around. Meanwhile, Léger, Picabia, and Duchamp belong to the Cubist criteria of structure and space ordering the composition. Orphism (aka Simultaneous Contrasts) concentrates on tonal vibration and luminosity generated by juxtapositions, form, texture of the brushstroke, and intensity of the hue.

Sonia Delaunay in her Simultaneous Dress, 1913
But what is in a name, William Shakespeare asked? If we follow Roland Barthes and his acolytes, you know that to name is to bring a thing or a concept into existence. Therefore, regardless of what our contemporary art critics say, Orphism existed and continues to exist for those who understand the Delaunays' and Apollinaire's criteria. The burden of proof became the raison d'être of the current Guggenheim show.
Sonia Delaunay, Poster for Dubonnet, 1914Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reine Sofia, Madrid
The name "Orphism" appears in Apollinaire's article "Modern Painting," published in the February 1913 issue of the German art journal Der Sturm (February 1913). Here Apollinaire wrote: "Delaunay believed that if a simple color really determines the complement, it does so not by breaking up light into its components but by evoking all the colors of the prism at once. This tendency can be called orphism. . . . [a] dramatic movement in art and poetry . . . ": Apollinaire then goes on to name the artists whose work exemplifies this "sensibility": Fernand Léger and Francis Picabia. He continues: "The most interesting German painters also instinctively belong to this movement: Kandinsky, Marc, Meidner, Macke, Jawlensky, Munter, Otto Freundlich, etc." (translated by Susan Rubin Suleiman in Apollinaire on Art: Essays and Review, 1902-1918, edited by Leroy C. Breunig, DaCapo Paperback, 1988, p. 270).
Fernand Léger, The Smokers, 1911-12
The Guggenheim Museum
In an earlier article, "Reality, Pure Painting," published in Der Sturm (December 1912), Apollinaire enthusiastically praised Delaunay's art and quoted the artist himself: "Simultaneous contrast ensures the dynamism of colors and their construction in the painting; it is the most powerful means to express reality." That is to say the reality of colors in our world (especially the modern world) and the reality of the paint itself, its material properties. Occasionally, images of modern life, such as the Eiffel Tour, airplanes, and electricity make cameo appearances as they blend into the abstract elements of the compositions.
Francis Picabia, Edtaonisl (Ecclesiastic). 1913
The Art Institute of Chicago
Given this perspective of Orphism, we can talk about what the exhibition accomplishes and what it does not. On the whole, it's vast (casting a wide net for its thesis), and yet it falls short, missing an opportunity to follow Robert Delaunay's dictum and Apollinaire interpretation through focused curation and installations. Notice the title of Delaunay's painting, featured in the first room of the Guggenheim exhibition: Simultaneous Contrasts: Sun and Moon. This painting alone offers a coherent understanding of Apollinaire's "Orphism," a specific kind of Cubism that calls attention to the properties of color within a celestial setting. It's a signal to consider the spiritual as well as the physical.
Frantiszek Kupka, Discs of Newton, Study for a Fugue in Two Colors, 1911
Czech Center Museum, Prague
The curators' choices and juxtapositions may not articulate these criteria effectively. Nevertheless, the exhibition introduces you to dozens of paintings and a few Alexander Archipenko sculptures that generate their respective joyfulness through their color and form. On that score, it's a satisfying show for most visitors. However, the curators' title and thesis Harmony and Dissonance: Orphism in Paris, 1910-1930 oftentimes put together works that don't help each other at all or muddy the waters. I would have installed the Delaunays together to demonstrate their individuality as well as their commonalities. I would have exhibited more of Kupka's work chronologically together in a mini-retrospective of his oeuvre. The introduction to French chemist Michel-Eugène Chevreul (1786-1889) and his influence on the Neo-Impressionists (aka Pointillists) at the beginning of the exhibition makes sense. Hurray for that!
Morgan Russell, Cosmic Synchromy, 1913-14
Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute
And then there are the misfires, such as the Synchromists Morgan Russell and Stanton MacDonald-Wright who invented and promoted their own movement that emerged parallel to the Orphists' efforts. Apollinaire called Morgan Russell "vaguely orphic" in 1913. but Russell and his fellow American Stanton MacDonald-Wright did not acknowledge the Delaunays and Kupka as their influence. Gail Levin, in her Whitney Museum catalogue Synchronism and American Color Abstraction 1919-1925 (1978) claims that Russell and MacDonald-Wright "actually developed their intense interest in color theory and its application in the classes of Percyval Tudor-Hart at his school of painting in Paris, which they attended during 1911-13." (p. 14)
Chevreul's Chromatic Circle, 1861
At least, if you know nothing about Synchromism before you enter the Guggenheim's Orphism show, you'll certainly benefit from an ample introduction by the time you leave the show. The last tier of the ramp is loaded with Russell and MacDonald-Wright. Tired as you might be at this point, try not to tune out. These lovely symphonies of color are what Apollinaire meant by his reference to Orpheus, the Thracian poet, musician, and husband to the ill-fated Eurydice, who died twice: once from the poison of a snake bite and again when Orpheus, who tried to retrieve her from Hades, turned back to look at her too soon, thus failing to follow the rules to save her. She was supposed to exit completely from Hades before he could gaze upon her once more. The Sun god Apollo gave Orpheus a golden lyre and with this gift, the mortal bard enchanted beasts and birds with his songs. Orphism, coined by Wilhelm Albert Włodzimierz Apolinary Kostrowicki, who also gave himself a classically inspired sobriquet Guillaume Apollinaire, imagines this combination of abstract color and form achieves a purity similar to the immateriality of music. Orphism was, in Apollinaire's opinion, the visual manifestation of harmonious sound.
Paul Signac, Portrait of Félix Fénéon:
Opus 217. Against the Enamel of a Background Rhythmic with Beats and Angles, Tones, and Tints, 1890. Museum of Modern Art, NYC
Was Orphism really a movement? Yes, it was real for Apollinaire. And, thanks to his art criticism, we must acknowledge its existence within the highly diverse and complicated Cubist movement. Moreover, we must remember that most artists do not self-consciously create an art movement. Rather, the artists accept the repetitious use of one art critic's spontaneous quip which eventually enters into the art history lexicon. These snide remarks brought us the names Impressionism, Fauvism, and Cubism, among others. By naming a recognizable, stylistic effort, the notion of a coherent movement organizes the experience of viewing and talking about art.