Welcome to One Fine Showwhen the Observer highlights an exhibit that just opened at a museum outside of New York City, a place we know and love is already getting a lot of attention.
One of the worst Instagram posts in recent years, was made by Mark Zuckerberg himself. In it, he began carving a sculpture of his wife and urged us all to ‘bring back the Roman tradition of making statues of your wife. Zuck’s sweaty attempts to appear human are, at this point, admirable, but the artwork in question was so off-putting that anyone who saw the picture became more interested in the living woman standing next to his gift as he drank coffee in his bathrobe. The cup hides his face, which may be content, perhaps embarrassment, but certainly not pride.
The heads of the characters of Franz Xaver Messerschmidt (1736-1783) have also been misunderstood by scholars, although less because of the subtlety of the expressions shown. One needs to know why the most sought-after artian did them, a question investigated by the new exhibition “Franz Xaver Messerschmidt: More Than Character Heads,” which recently opened at the Belvedere in Vienna and seeks to place his strange and fascinating objects in the context of both his work and that of the 18th century with a new modern discourse and a new understanding. the idea is to try to capture a character rather than a portrait.
If you are new to the body of work, you may not need “more than” Character Heads, which are central to the show. Beginning in the 1770s, Messerschmidt began to do this without a commission or editors, working outside of his lifelong career capturing Austrian nobles in Baroque, Zuckerbergian splendor. His character’s heads show deep emotions and universality, realizing perhaps the growing power of revolutionary capitalism.
Belvedere boasts a collection of 16 letterheads, the largest held by any single institution. It is difficult to talk about specifics because these came to the Belvedere from Messerschmidt’s private collection after his death, so they do not have individual titles (they are all simply “Charakterköpfe”). In this show, three bald men feel like a role model. Using more than just jowls, Messerschmidt combines confusing joy, pure sadness and deep sadness, in the same face. His court portrait of Maria Theresia als Königin von Ungarn (1764-1766), the queen of Hungary, all this talent is wrapped in her dress. His face is silent and unreadable.
Who else wanted to work in this mode at this time? The painter Joseph Ducreux (1735-1802), who came to Vienna to make a portrait of Marie Antoinette, and perhaps William Hogarth (1697-1764), who also used comedy and melodrama to dig up larger themes.
Then there was Messerschmidt’s close friend, Franz Anton Mesmer (1734-1815), whose pseudo-theories about “animal magnetism” that claimed human bedevils laid the foundation for the field of psychology. Some think that the heads of the characters represent Mesmer’s ideas. Some think they may have come about because he was passed over for promotion to the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna. Chronology is appropriate, but does the angst-ridden want to read angst? Regardless of their origin, these works represent a major advance in the field of photographic technology. Zuckerberg, on the other hand, might want to think about hiring an art consultant who lives in the 21st century.
“Franz Xaver Messerschmidt: More than Letters“ on view at the Belvedere in Vienna until April 6, 2026.
More show updates
