Puzzled by the (eagerly expected) Sonia Delaunay’s retrospective at the éedartmoderne. The exhibit, which tries to show too much, makes little sense of her artistic explorations, other than through accidental life events. While Robert’s abstraction is generally accounted by his belief in “a series of equations among color, light, eye, brain and soul” (Hal Foster), Sonia’s is born with her son and her babyblanket. Maybe so… but the exhibit remains vague about her creative process, thoughts, and only accidently touches upon her creative relation with her husband. Oh France. Still, joy in the colors, the clothes, the doodles, the sheer abundance of her creativity.

Published November 26, 2014 at 640 × 640 in Puzzled by the (eagerly expected) Sonia Delaunay’s retrospective at the éedartmoderne. The exhibit, which tries to show too much, makes little sense of her artistic explorations, other than through accidental life events. While Robert’s abstraction is generally accounted by his belief in “a series of equations among color, light, eye, brain and soul” (Hal Foster), Sonia’s is born with her son and her babyblanket. Maybe so… but the exhibit remains vague about her creative process, thoughts, and only accidently touches upon her creative relation with her husband. Oh France. Still, joy in the colors, the clothes, the doodles, the sheer abundance of her creativity.