Brancusi's Wet Dream
Artwork and article inspired by MotoMachine, a design and manufacturing company for the motorcycle aftermarket.
“Motorcycles are rolling art." -Willie Davidson (Grandson of William S. Harley)
Motorcycles have been compared to aerodynamic airplanes: simple, streamlined—inspired by humanity’s obsessive desire to fly. Art critic Peter Plagens has compared the aesthetic of the motorcycle to the modernist, minimalist sculptures of Constantin Brancusi who pared down his sculpture to pure forms. Brancusi’s Bird in Space is a visual representation of the essence of flight; its scythe-like shape slices upwards into the sky. The flash of its gold, reflective, polished surface is analogous to the alloy, stainless steel, and aluminum that shapes Harley Davidson’s XR-750. The XR-750 has been lauded as one of the most successful professional racing bikes of all time, and its minimal styling promises to deliver the least complicated (therefore fastest) way to move through space. Stuart Jakl, President and Founder of MotoMachine speaks about his first encounter:
“The XR inspired me. I can remember how I felt when I first saw an XR. It was so different and so sexy compared to other Harleys. It was minimal. Just the least amount of anything to make it around the track. It was small, light, and fast. It seemed like I could lift it and walk away with it. There was something about the carb arrangement. Dual carbs vs. the single one found on any other Harley. The exhaust was stainless and twisted out of the left side of the bike in a way that screamed fast. The engine was so different from any other bike. The v-twin engine seemed archaic and exotic all at once. It was beautiful and flawed. I could see the texture of its cast aluminum surface. You could see the individual grains of sand permanently recorded into the surface of its parts. Its parallel pushrod tubes. It's generous finning. It looked rough and raw: purposeful. I loved it and wanted it."
The New York Guggenheim exhibition of 1998, The Art of the Motorcycle, was controversial because it was one of the most popular exhibitions in the museum’s 61 year history. Naysayers proclaimed that machines are not high art, therefore not Guggenheim-worthy: the museum was guilty of low-brow entertainment. Fourteen years later, the argument has lost its potency because of the proliferation of design and technology exhibitions in fine art contexts. All cultural products can be discussed, contemplated, and critiqued in terms of their aesthetic value. In particular, the motorcycle resonates symbolically with our aspirations for freedom and speed, and even when still, the XR-750 promises to transport us to another realm and to other possibilities. Brancusi spoke of Bird in Space as “a project which, when enlarged, will fill the sky.” The sculpture must reveal the motion that the object has within itself. Just by looking at images of the XR-750, we are certain that the bike can deliver. It is motion incarnate. We get on the bike, sit for a few minutes, and look out at the landscape. We see the road ahead of us. We kick start the bike to life and then listen. We listen a long time. Then, we escape. We open the throttle full wide, and we leave, just go, get out, away, emerge: fly. If we are not actually riding, then we are at least questing for motion, propulsion, and a trajectory that validates our existence.
© 2012 The Author, Janet Silk.
Image credit: Janet Silk, tiled paper collage, total size 4' x 4'.
Motorcycles have been compared to aerodynamic airplanes: simple, streamlined—inspired by humanity’s obsessive desire to fly. Art critic Peter Plagens has compared the aesthetic of the motorcycle to the modernist, minimalist sculptures of Constantin Brancusi who pared down his sculpture to pure forms. Brancusi’s Bird in Space is a visual representation of the essence of flight; its scythe-like shape slices upwards into the sky. The flash of its gold, reflective, polished surface is analogous to the alloy, stainless steel, and aluminum that shapes Harley Davidson’s XR-750. The XR-750 has been lauded as one of the most successful professional racing bikes of all time, and its minimal styling promises to deliver the least complicated (therefore fastest) way to move through space. Stuart Jakl, President and Founder of MotoMachine speaks about his first encounter:
“The XR inspired me. I can remember how I felt when I first saw an XR. It was so different and so sexy compared to other Harleys. It was minimal. Just the least amount of anything to make it around the track. It was small, light, and fast. It seemed like I could lift it and walk away with it. There was something about the carb arrangement. Dual carbs vs. the single one found on any other Harley. The exhaust was stainless and twisted out of the left side of the bike in a way that screamed fast. The engine was so different from any other bike. The v-twin engine seemed archaic and exotic all at once. It was beautiful and flawed. I could see the texture of its cast aluminum surface. You could see the individual grains of sand permanently recorded into the surface of its parts. Its parallel pushrod tubes. It's generous finning. It looked rough and raw: purposeful. I loved it and wanted it."
The New York Guggenheim exhibition of 1998, The Art of the Motorcycle, was controversial because it was one of the most popular exhibitions in the museum’s 61 year history. Naysayers proclaimed that machines are not high art, therefore not Guggenheim-worthy: the museum was guilty of low-brow entertainment. Fourteen years later, the argument has lost its potency because of the proliferation of design and technology exhibitions in fine art contexts. All cultural products can be discussed, contemplated, and critiqued in terms of their aesthetic value. In particular, the motorcycle resonates symbolically with our aspirations for freedom and speed, and even when still, the XR-750 promises to transport us to another realm and to other possibilities. Brancusi spoke of Bird in Space as “a project which, when enlarged, will fill the sky.” The sculpture must reveal the motion that the object has within itself. Just by looking at images of the XR-750, we are certain that the bike can deliver. It is motion incarnate. We get on the bike, sit for a few minutes, and look out at the landscape. We see the road ahead of us. We kick start the bike to life and then listen. We listen a long time. Then, we escape. We open the throttle full wide, and we leave, just go, get out, away, emerge: fly. If we are not actually riding, then we are at least questing for motion, propulsion, and a trajectory that validates our existence.
© 2012 The Author, Janet Silk.
Image credit: Janet Silk, tiled paper collage, total size 4' x 4'.
