To tell the truth, I had never heard of Kupka until, almost by accident, I saw a collection of his work in a small museum in Prague, the Kampa. I was immediately captivated. This amazing book provides a brief bio (~30 pages, split between English and French), then reproduces paintings from every part of his career.
It starts out rather tamely. From 1896 to about 1909, we see competent if slightly romantic work. Still lifes, "girl on a rock," ink drawings, nudes, self-portraits - ordinary stuff, with occasional glimpses of humor and hints of Klimt. Then, in what looks like an abrupt transition, Kupka starts to explore abstraction. Canvases begin to burst with color, and the human forms become design elements rather than portraiture. These first few years represent a transitional time. They barely hint at Kupka's later geometric works, and have yet to display the crisp edges and gradations of color that typify his mature style. Traces of representation remain through 1911, but the new Kupka takes full command by 1912.
I identify three major threads through Kupka's abstractions, all of which appear in 1912. The first tends toward rectangular geometries, as rich and dense as an organs banks of pipes or a cityscape. Strong verticals give these pieces a monumental sense, but ever-present diagonals keep the imagery from being static or stodgy. By the 1930s, though, the rectilinear and diagonal features had migrated to separate canvases, rarely appearing together any more. To my eye, both suffered from that separation. The second trend was curvilinear, with swooping concentric shapes. These explorations evolved, too, becoming more complex in composition, but more mechanical in their geometries. My favorites among these, the Steel Drinks series, appeared in the late 1920s. Machine-like precision and complexity offer the viewer plenty to contemplate, and have a sense that approaches what might be called steam-punk today.
Kupka's third major theme does not admit of easy description. The organic geometries and concentric petals bring Georgia Okeefe's work to mind, though they anticipate it by a decade or so. Complex compositions, gradations of color, and a dynamic sense of expansion distinguish these works from any other I know, however. Really, these are the works I find most fascinating, even invigorating.
Then, around 1930, Kupka's work shifted again. Rich composition and complex palettes often (but not always) gave way to stripped-down images in just a few colors, sometimes approaching the geometric simplicity of Piet Mondrian. Personally, I'm glad to see some of the more complex and layered compositions remain, since these simplifications do little for me.
Sometimes credited as a founder of abstract art, Kupka's work remains some of the liveliest and most approachable. It's clear that Kupka influenced and was influenced by the greatest visual thinkers of his era. Even without chasing those chains of influence, his work stands beautifully on its own. Perhaps has varied and changing style makes him hard to categorize, and that might explain his relative obscurity. I hope that this book helps bring Kupka the wider audience he deserves.
-- wiredweird