Brancusi exhibited at MoMA.
Entering the 2018 Constantin Brancusi exhibition at MoMA, I am met at the portal by Maiastra (1910-12), the youngest work in the show. A totem pole of limestone, a carving of two rough-hewn figures stood atop a block of limestone, leaning into one another, and one of their faces so concealed as they hold a block of limestone equal to that underfoot upon their heads. And crowning the tower of rock is the maiastra, a reference to a creature of Romanian myth. A smooth, futurist bud of marble. With a swollen chest like a tulip, neck like its stem snipped at the end. A little carved beak with little round eyes. This was Brancusi's first bird-form sculpture, a motif used by art history to define the artist's career. And a fitting doorman, gatekeeper. Standing tall and phallic like a monolith, hewn by hand and made of stone like a monolith, and bearing a simple iconography immediately identifying itself with the religious, or at least mythic (that is an image of man and/or woman ...