The intricate universe of Maurits Cornelis Escher, renowned for its perplexing staircases and buildings that twist in impossible ways, reveals a stark contrast to its whimsical exterior in a compelling exhibition at Somerset House. One of Escher’s lesser-known works, created in 1945, showcases a diploma for students from a temporary academy in Eindhoven, which had just been liberated from Nazi occupation. In this piece, an aged owl is depicted in the foreground, while ominous columns of black smoke rise from a nearby town, their dark forms mirrored in the water below. This portrayal serves as a reminder that Escher was not only a creative mind navigating a tumultuous era but also that his artistic visions were deeply rooted in reality. His imaginative explorations reflect the essence of the world, underlined by the principles of mathematics that Galileo described as the “language of nature.”
You don’t need to be a mathematician to immerse yourself in Escher’s art; a simple act of observation is sufficient. This exhibition offers an unparalleled opportunity to engage with his work in a way that books and reproductions cannot provide. Visitors often feel as though they are stepping into his paradoxical worlds. For instance, in his 1958 lithograph titled “Belvedere,” a king and queen appear to survey a mountainous landscape from separate levels of a Renaissance structure. However, their perspectives are entirely misaligned—the king looks sideways while the queen gazes beyond the frame, creating a visual contradiction where the columns supporting the king’s balcony also uphold the queen’s floor. This architectural absurdity, complemented by jesters in the background and an architect engrossed in geometry, highlights Escher’s playful approach to design.
By the time Escher crafted this whimsical creation, he had gained acclaim among scientists and was on the cusp of entering popular culture. The British physicist Roger Penrose recognized him as a visionary of geometry. Escher’s influence would later resonate within the psychedelic movement, as evidenced by the album cover of Pink Floyd’s “Ummagumma,” which illustrates the band in Escher-like spatial perspectives that seemingly extend into infinity.
This exhibition, which has garnered attention akin to a rock concert, ensures that the joy in Escher’s work remains front and center. It features videos, interactive installations, and large metallic spheres, alongside classic black-and-white woodcuts and lithographs. One visitor expressed dissatisfaction with the “terrible” music playing during the exhibition, to which I pointed out that it was Bach. Some may find his fugues too mainstream, but dismissing the exhibition’s engaging presentation would detract from the experience of exploring Escher’s impressive and nuanced career as a printmaker.
Escher demonstrates his keen observational skills early in his career with a design portraying a frog on a lily pad at night, revealing how nature crafts mysterious geometrical forms—the circular leaves retreating on the water’s surface and the moon appearing as a white disc on the water. His meticulous attention to detail places him among the great Netherlandish artists. In one self-portrait reflected in a glass sphere, his room is distorted akin to a compressed rubber ball, reminiscent of the convex mirror in Jan van Eyck’s iconic “Arnolfini Portrait.”
Amidst an era of artistic upheaval, Escher remained a traditional artist, uninterested in avant-garde trends. Although often labeled as “surreal,” he did not identify as a surrealist. Born in 1898, Escher studied under Jewish printmaker Samuel Jessurun de Mesquita before embarking on an extensive tour of Southern Europe, where his fascination with architecture and spatial arrangement began to flourish. One lithograph depicts the town of Atrani, situated on cliffs along the Amalfi coast, with its interconnected buildings ascending in increasingly abstract forms.
While it might be tempting to classify Escher as a cubist by drawing parallels to the works of Cézanne or Braque, his approach to geometric shapes is distinctly his own. He explored spatial representation deeply rooted in the traditions of the Italian Renaissance, employing linear perspective until his encounter with the Alhambra in Granada transformed his artistic vision. The palace’s intricate tiled patterns introduced him to a tessellated beauty that captivated his imagination, leading him to explore infinite patterns.
Escher’s fascination with tessellation was expressed not through abstract forms but through recognizable figures—cartoon characters, birds, and aquatic life. He skillfully transitioned these elements between three-dimensional and flat planes, guiding viewers through a visually stimulating journey that writer Douglas Hofstadter aptly termed “strange loops.”
These loops culminate in the enchanting palaces he constructed during his artistic peak. In his 1961 print “Waterfall,” another Renaissance-style building is depicted, where water flows along a grand canal, only to tumble down in a magnificent waterfall that powers a windmill. Intriguingly, the water then continues to flow at the same height, defying logic and creating a philosophical enigma.
Escher, a deeply traditional artist, invites viewers to confront the complexities of the world we inhabit. We become his whimsical figures, navigating stairs that challenge our perceptions of ascent and descent, all while sustaining our daily lives with comforting assumptions that shield us from confronting the infinite and the impossibly real.
The exhibition “MC Escher” is currently on display at Somerset House in London, running from June 5 to September 6.
