Art pops at the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao

As Guggenheim Museum Bilbao remains one of the de-facto centers of fine art in Spain, it continues to challenge the norm through one of its latest exhibits, Signs and Objects: Pop Art from the Guggenheim Collection.

An often-maligned movement, pop art originated in England in the late 1950s as a response by the economic vitality of the post-World War II era. It took inspiration from a number of advertisements and billboards, pulp magazines and newspapers, and even comic books. It challenged the preconceived value and notions of high-art and placed emphasis on free-flowing brushstrokes, interspersed with quick-witted humor and irony as it critiques consumerism. It unabashedly defied the preconceived notions of what art should be.

Often described as “gimmicky” and perhaps even “cheap,” pop art was looked down upon for its supposed lack of depth and the unintended glorification of consumerism, especially when compared to traditional art forms.

Today, the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao honors the Pop Art movement through the works of 17 artists from Columbia, Greece, Spain, the United Kingdom, and the United States of America. Typically a male-dominated movement, the museum likewise consciously chose to spotlight the creations of female and people of color (POC) artists who previously have not been given the opportunities they rightfully deserve.

Signs and Objects, as its name implies, focuses on the four major Pop Art categories, as defined by the prolific English art critic and curator Lawrence Alloway, who also had a curatorial stint at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. The distinctions are as follows: Ready Mades or Rebuilt Objects, Objects and Flat Painting, Paintings of Objects, and Painting of Signs and Signs. These were then split into two rooms — one for objects, and the other for signs to further demarcate the two styles. The museum pays homage to some of the most iconic works of the era as it reimagines them with a renewed context for the modern age.

Enough from me and let’s go through some of the sights on display.

James Rosenquist’s Flamingo Capsule (1970) is dedicated to three astronauts who perished in the Apollo I training session flashfire in 1967. We noticed the fire in an enclosed space as it sets aflame to other paraphernalia floating aboard the ship.

Mark Rothko’s Untitled (1952-53) is a bold exposition of warm colors, which unabashedly welcomes visitors due to its enormous size. As far as he was concerned, he created larger than life pieces not to intimidate, but rather to assist individuals to immerse into the world of art — that we become a part of the larger picture. And believe me, we were!

Andy Warhol’s Orange Disaster #5 (1963) is part of a series of silkscreen prints which exposed the macabre aspect of media. Arguably the most popular and influential pop artist, he incorporated newspaper clippings, particularly of the electric chair at Sing Sing Prison in New York, where Ethel and Julius Rosenberg were executed for leaking classified information of the atomic bomb to Russia at the height of the World War II arms race. We likewise spotted — more like we were demanded to witness — a huge wall of Warhol’s Self Portrait 156A (1978), which served as a backdrop for several sequences of Madonna portraits.

Lucia Hierro’s A Little Bit of Everything (De Todo Un Poco) (2017–21) was a rebellious look at everyday objects found in the New York bodega — lotto cards, honey buns, a coffee cup — as an exploration of class and privilege. The items seem to be mismatched and visually apprehensive at first glance. However, we eventually became at peace with the symbolisms presented within. From our own experiences, we immersed with the immigrant and working class through our own trips to the Big Apple, and how some old establishments have been pushed out due to the effects of gentrification.

Jeff Koons’ Tulips (1995-2004) was a colorful stainless steel chromium sculpture of balloon flowers often associated with birthdays. It represented his connection with childhood, while its size and palette personally reminded us of Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade floats.

John Chamberlain’s Dolores, James (1962) aggressively used scrap metal and automobile parts to create an abstract three-dimensional piece. Although each came from various sources, they all seemed to meld together in a harmonious balance of elements. Fun fact: It was actually spot-welded right at the museum to ensure its accuracy and safety!

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Man from Naples (1982) was a monumental piece for the artist, as this was conceived during this frenzy of productivity. It has since been foundational to his signature style going forward. The canvas was utilized as a blackboard, where he scribbled and doodled to his heart’s content. It is pure unadulterated humor and primitivism, all condensed in an iconic painting.

Gilbert & George, two separate entities but are regarded as one artist, created Waking (1984) to tackle the topics of religion and sexuality. They depicted an individual as he developed from boyhood to maturity. All the while, the two artists were painted in the middle of the painting, in striking colors.

A popular standout was Koons’ Puppy (1992) as it towered outside — I repeat, outside — the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao. It was a mix of tender nature of flowers and the endearing approach of puppies to create a statue which grows in time. We soon learned it likewise combined the elite hobbies of dog breeding and topiaries with mass-oriented ones such as chia pets and Hallmark greeting cards to further blur the line between the two strata.

An exploration of Pop Art opened our eyes to an art form that may be rarely seen in galleries across the world — and is a refreshing sight, in a prestigious museum, no less. But allow us to confess once again, we are no critics and simply marveled and truly enjoyed the objet d’art as they came and went.