In his seminal 1933 essay A New Instrument of Vision, László Moholy-Nagy wrote “the photogram, or camera-less record of forms produced by light, which embodies the unique nature of the photographic process, is the real key to photography.” Made by placing objects on top of light-sensitive photographic paper, he saw the photogram as a distinctive embodiment of the photographic process, emphasizing its significance in redefining photography in the world of fine art.

Over the course of his career, Moholy-Nagy would become renowned for forging a new visual, photographic language at a time when the intersection between art, science, and industry was rapidly evolving. He first came across this technique in 1922, when the photogram – or, as he called them, light compositions – was being “used not only for playful amateur photography but also for serious scientific photography” (Moholy-Nagy: The Photograms: Catalogue Raisonné, p. 17). Around this time, x-rays were becoming increasingly prevalent in medicine which, similar to the photogram, harness radiation to inscribe the presence of an object directly onto a light-sensitive surface. The idea of being able to capture the inside of the human body fascinated Moholy-Nagy, who believed the x-ray to be “one of the greatest visual experiences of the new age” (ibid p. 19). With so many technical and visual parallels to modern medicine’s newest innovation, it is no wonder an artist like Moholy-Nagy was so captivated by the possibilities of the photogram.

Even though the process is as old as photography itself, the rediscovery of the photogram by artists like Moholy-Nagy and Man Ray was driven by an urge to explore new avenues of artistic expression. The present lot, made in 1923, was one of Moholy-Nagy’s earliest experimentations with the technique, falling into what the authors of Moholy-Nagy: The Photograms: Catalogue Raisonné call the Berlin Photograms, made within his first year of creating photograms. The glossy, sepia paper of the present lot was used by Moholy-Nagy during this period when he was known to use printing-out and gaslight papers. Printing-out paper, the substrate used for this example, slowly reveals the image during exposure to sunlight, allowing the artist to guide the movement of the composition as it develops. This action is captured directly in the work’s translucent figures as the gradation of the image directly correlated to how and where the objects were moved during exposure. On this example, Moholy-Nagy heavily inscribed the verso with the explicit details of this very process:

Material:
1 muzzle
1 metal housing [spool] of a roll film
1 child’s rattle

What is important here:
A new spatial dimension given by light that can be captured with this photographic means and no other means.

Under Moholy-Nagy’s vision, these everyday objects are elevated to abstract elements. The handle of the child’s rattle gracefully engages the film spool in the lower left quadrant. Meanwhile, the wire muzzle emerges as a more subdued network of lines in the lower image. The softly indistinct appearance of the muzzle, however, suggests movement by the artist previously mentioned, giving the work an eerie whisper effect.

Also on the verso of this photogram is the inscription 'á Mr. Zervos, Paris' which refers to Christian Zervos, the editor of the influential art journal Cahiers d’Art. Zervos published two of Moholy-Nagy’s photograms in Cahiers d’Art, no.1, 1929. Just like the present lot, the two published photograms also include the artist’s extensive notations on their versos. Later purchased by art dealer Stefan Lennert in 1982, it is believed that this work was once in the possession of legendary Russian poet Vladimir Mayakovsky, possibly sent to him as part of Mayakovsky’s publishing activities with radical journals LEF (1923-1925) or Novi LEF (1927-1929).