The first major exhibit is André Masson inside/outside Surrealism: Prints and Illustrated Books from the Gotlieb Collection. The second is Dreaming with Open Eyes, Dada and Surrealist Art from the Vera, Silvia and Arturo Schwarz Collection in the Israel Museum.

The Gotlieb collection is owned by the AGO, thanks to Allan Gotlieb, one of Canada’s former ambassadors to the United States, once a chairman of the Canada Council, and now chairman of Sotheby’s Canada. In 1999, he and his wife, Sondra, donated the 93 Masson prints and illustrated books to the gallery. They are now on show to there after having been exhibited in Boston earlier this year. In 1994, the Gotliebs also donated their James Tissot collection to the AGO.

Gotlieb first began to collect Masson in 1963. Over the years he put together an amazingly representative body of the artist’s work. Masson, at one time seen as an equal to Pablo Picasso, eventually lost some of his appeal. Perhaps this happened because everything about him was less flamboyant and expressive than Picasso; perhaps because he developed no distinctive style; perhaps also, because he remained essentially true to figurative representation, even while developing what has been called automatic drawing in his early career. When he used this method, he allowed his pen to wander, free from the restraints of composition and subject matter. He apparently entered a trance-like state, and the images he thus created, he sometimes enhanced while in a conscious state. But he always retained the ambiguous nature of the images to allow the viewer varied interpretations.

Masson’s six decades of artistic endeavour produced several phases that reflect his pre-occupation with the struggle against Fascism in Spain, the Nazi-occupation of France, a fascination with Chinese ideographs, and with the Romantic landscapes of J.M.W. Turner and the Impressionist Claude Monet. Masson's early works, especially, dealt with themes of violence and sexuality, although turbulence now and then reappeared in his work even in the late stages of his career. He died in 1987 at age 91.

Thanks to a group of concerned Americans, Masson and his family found refuge in the USA in 1941 when life in Nazi-occupied France became too dangerous for the artist. The Nazis and their French collaborators blacklisted him because his work included sexual themes and violence, because of his overt anti-fascism and former link to the Surrealists with their ties to the Communist Party, and because he had a Jewish wife. It must be said that his break with writer/artist André Breton (one of the true founders of Surrealism), came about because Masson strained under the strict line of thought that the writer imposed on the members of the Surrealist movement. Yet, even Breton would eventually warn against being ensnared into following a strict party line after he denounced Stalinism in 1936.

During Masson’s four years in the USA, he lectured on contemporary French art, and he had several exhibitions, the first of which was held at the Baltimore Museum of Art during the year of his arrival in North America. While some art writers believe that Masson played a pivotal role in the development of American Abstract Expressionism, there are others who have a different view.

Wassily Kandinsky comes to mind as an inspiration for the abstract painters, although it was from afar as he chose to stay in a Paris suburb where he died in 1944. Another factor that brought American artists to abstract expression lay in the devastating effect   WWII had on the psyche of these artists. It encouraged them to seek new forms of expression. They sought a non-European way to paint after the contradictions of the formlessness, and at the same time rigidity, of their war experiences in a world that was not their own. Also, one must not discount Cubism, which offered images broken into abstract forms, and predates the Surrealists. Perhaps it is best to say that it is the combination of all these factors that inspired the Abstract Expressionists, Surrealism being just one of them.

Having said that, there is no doubt that Masson deserves our attention. Although many of the works in this collection evoke, or plainly show, considerable brutality in their imagery, they are also wonderful examples of a very creative and prolific mind. Masson may have been in a trance-like state while drawing, but his Man with Knife (Massacre), an etching and drypoint on woven paper, is immensely powerful as is his Orpheus, both from 1933.

It seems almost impossible to believe that the same artist created the vastly different images of Weathered Porticos (1951) and Theatre of Marcellus (1953) from those mentioned above. These colour lithographs are of a delicacy and almost mystical nature that has no relationship to the violence of those other two works; nor does his May Message (1957), an invented Chinese ideograph partially framed by leaves, seem by the same artist. The latter relates to his fascination with Zen Buddhism in  later life. One feels that to identify Masson so closely with Surrealism leads to confusion. By doing so, one is really putting the focus on only a partial aspect of his career, and thus obscures the profound differences between the many facets of his achievements.

No one can escape his message in Murdered Spain (1938), a work that decries the insanity of civil war, in which a nation attacks its own citizens. In this picture a bird is clawing out its own eye. Masson returns to birds in his 1954 etching and aquatint, the Sacrificed Birds; using the same materials, he created the swirling, colourful lines in an untitled work in 1961. From all these examples it is obvious that Masson was constantly searching, and reinventing himself and his art. This, too, may have contributed to his disappearance for a while from the art world horizon. No one could get a clear image of his work. Thanks to the Gotlieb Collection we now can see the man and his work in its varied forms.

Yet, one wonders, why artists and art historians are once again getting caught up in, or are exploring Surrealism. Is there an inherent need in mankind to escape from reality and create a fantasy world, no matter how illogical it may seem?

Dreaming with Open Eyes is a show that expresses this need to deride or distort reality and escape it not just through art and writing, but often through hair-brained political philosophies that are unworkable. Marxism, i.e. Communism, proved that only to clearly, as did Fascism. What one learns from Schwarz’s collection is that Surrealism – despite its Marxist influences – really has its origins in art created centuries ago when artists expressed the cruelties and stupidities of mankind in great and timeless works, often influenced by religious allegiances. Long before self-devouring political systems evolved, such artists as Albrecht Dürer, represented in this exhibition by his Whore of Babylon, Peter van der Heyden by his The Seven Deadly Sins (1558), Francisco Goya by his The Sleep of Reason produces Monsters (1798), and William Blake by The Six-Footed Serpent attacking Agnollo Brunelleschi (created shortly before Blake’s death in 1827) can be said to have sown the seeds of Surrealism. The representation of mythological beings and events in these works was of a manner that spoke directly to the people of their time and still speaks to us now. Unfortunately, this cannot be said of Dadaism or of most Surrealism.

Protesting against man’s inhumanity has always been something artists felt a need to do, although once they started to take up political credos, they began to falter and often either sank into naiveté or straight cynicism, as the Dadaists did. Dreaming with Open Eyes incorporates a vast collection of Dadaist work.

The Dadaists, of course, were nihilists, who expressed their disdain for just about everything in society that can be described as daily conventions, including all former art forms. They clearly aimed to subvert society, fired by their own experiences during WWI. One of their strongest proponents was the Frenchman, Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968), who later exerted considerable influence on the North American artists of the generation honed by the changes wrought by the 1960s. He, of course, began his challenge of the prevailing attitudes even before the Great War began. To listen to Duchamp speak (on recordings) or to read his writings is to be subjected to a boring diatribe great proportions that passes as philosophical thought. Artists — as those of us who have to read catalogues know only too well — are especially inarticulate when it comes to expressing their ideas in words. Curators and art academics are no better. They go on tangents of pseudo-philosophical thought that leaves most people baffled. It comes, therefore, to mind that if art needs to be so thoroughly explained, is it art? For, is art  not supposed to be a communication between artist and viewer?

In Canada, one of the most obvious followers of Dada and Duchamp was Greg Curnoe, an artist of considerable political naiveté. He took, without hesitation, ideas and subject matter from others and then made them his own. This was part of his nihilism, learned at the knees of Duchamp during brief sojourns to the United States in the early 1960s. Duchamp, who became an American Citizen, nevertheless returned to France where he died in Paris.

In Dreaming with Open Eyes, we are bombarded with Duchamp, who is also considered to be the inspiration behind Conceptual Art, an art form that has bored us for the last few decades. Duchamp, among his many antics, used ready-made objects such as a urinal  for his Fountain (1917), a coat rack for his Trap (1917), among many others, and declared them art by virtue of having been selected by him.

There are also masses of works by the American, Man Ray, who is now known more for his photography. He, too, used everyday objects that he transformed into surreal forms in an effort to expand the boundaries of art, and he painted. He is, for the most part, far more accessible in his work than Duchamp.

Fortunately, the designers of this show, as those of the exhibit, have shown great care and originality in organizing the material in such a way that it becomes accessible without having to read reams of material.

The collector, Arturo Schwarz, had a wider vision than just these two artists. His collection gives us an overview of art from the Renaissance to the 1980s, for which one is grateful as it prevents us from being drowned in tired Dada.

Schwarz, who was born in Egypt, had to leave that country in 1949 for unwanted political activities. He settled in Milan, Italy, a place that obviously suits his very flamboyant personality. At the opening of the exhibit, he could be heard everywhere commenting on the works he had collected. In a way, he became part of the show, just another curiosity to watch as one looked at the pieces he had brought together over several decades.

Many of the works he collected, he acquired by denying himself a proper diet. He sometimes lived on bread and tomatoes so he could pay for yet another treasure or trifle he had found somewhere. To make a living, he became a bookseller, an art historian and art dealer in Milan. He claims Duchamp among his friends. The two collaborated in the 1960s in the production of multiple editions of some Duchamp creations. This explains the proliferation of that Dadaist’s pieces in this exhibit.

There are, however, many other works on view that open ones eyes, to echo the title of the show, to a vast period of art through major and minor artists and works. It is definitely a show one should not miss as it cannot be denied that the influence of the Dada movement and that of the Surrealists can still be felt today, whether one likes it or not. So, it is best one learns to understand it, and maybe even learn to like some of it for considerable imagination and creativity is shown in many works.

After all, sculptor Jean (or Hans as he sometimes called himself) Arp became far more than a Dadaist. He is represented in this exhibit by an ink drawing, Centaur in the Forest (circa 1920). There are several Max Ernst works in this collection, none of which can be dismissed. Also included are works by Joan Miro, Picasso, Paul Gauguin, and even by the creator of Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll (i.e. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson). And, one must not forget to mention that Schwarz collected a fair number of items by André Breton that are included in this extraordinary installation. This group of artists also produced manifestos, poetry and periodicals. Schwarz collected these writings, borne out of his interest in books, and are displayed in cases in this show. "A warning here: Do not lean on these cases as I did while attempting to read some of the material and take notes. The alarms will go off instantly."

As mentioned in the opening paragraph, part of the Surrealist Summer at the AGO are two minor exhibits. They are located at the entrance to the main body of the two major exhibits

The first is of the photography by the Czech, Josef Sudek (1896-1976), who was greatly influenced by both Dadaists and Surrealists. Two years ago an anonymous donor presented the AGO with 950 original prints by this photographer. This current exhibit is just one aspect of his varied works.

The second show features items from the Fick-Eggert Collection of Whitby, ON. These works are from the same period as the other Dada works, but are identified as Cologne Dada. Max Ernst was a member of the group that founded Cologne Dada. This particular installation contains works that had been stored in the studio of Heinrich and Angelika (née Fick) Hoerle, where the group worked until Angelika contracted tuberculosis in 1922. After her death the following year, Willy Fick, her brother and also a member of the group, gathered everything from the by now abandoned studio. When the Nazis came to power, he hid the saved items in his garden shed. His niece, also named Angelika, stumbled on them in 1967 while on a visit from Canada. She brought many of them home to Ontario, and eventually, the rest came when Willy emigrated to Canada to spend his final days with his family.

All of these exhibitions will be on view at the AGO until September 8, 2002.

To get an even wider view of the art of the 1920s, you might just have time to hurry over to the Justina Barnicke Gallery at Hart House, University of Toronto to view another aspect of art from that period. German Expressionism, unfortunately, disintegrated when the Nazis took power in Germany. At Hart House until June 26 is a collection of mostly expressionist self-portraits by a large number of German artists, known as the Feldberg Collection, owned by the Berlinische Galerie, Berlin, Germany.