Georges Folmer « ROTO » Art in Motion

Folmer’s abstract paintings of the late 1940s and 1950s have a quite unusual depth, a faux perspective, where purely abstract elements inhabit a 3-dimensional space. Geometric shapes touch gently or narrowly miss each other in the way of human figures, and as one of them steps to the foreground another recedes to the back of the painting. These cleverly constructed compositions are abetted by his use of different paint finishes, high gloss or matte, scumbled areas of broken colour and blocks of solid and uniform pigment, delicate patterns and sweeps of plain grey, black or white.  

In 1960, with the development of his ‘roto-peintures’ Folmer sought to bring literal movement to the subtler dynamism of these paintings. Rotatable panels were added to compositions, rollers were inset within painted panels, sculptures were created with moving parts. Wholly new possibilities opened up within a single artwork, that could be changed at the whim of the owner, moving the parts to create new patterns and configurations each day, though always ones that had been anticipated and pre-ordained by the artist. 

With his ‘rotos’ of the 1960s Folmer sought to choreograph the moving elements to transform each geometrically precise composition into another equally harmonious work. With most of these the movement is powered by the viewer, who thus becomes the late-artist’s willing assistant, or perhaps an artist by proxy. With these ‘man-powered’ works Folmer sought to make the source of movement clearly visible, to be part of the experience of change as it happens. 

Much art of the past 30 years (as well as innumerable television programs) has been devoted to closing the gap between the artwork and the viewer, in breaking down the fourth wall, involving the viewer in the creative process and simply making art that’s easier to understand. In creating these ‘roto-peintures’ 60 years ago Folmer was clearly ahead of his time. There is a clear democratisation at play here, with Folmer offering what is in effect an immersive experience. Hitherto we had been conditioned to view great art as literally unapproachable, cordoned off in museums by red rope and plexiglass screens, understood by an intelligentsia with the knowledge to interpret and the vocabulary to discuss it. But here Folmer demands the participation of the viewer, not just mentally but physically too, using their hopefully not too grubby hands. 

These ‘rotos’ by Folmer occupy a unique place in the history of art. The movement of the pieces depends upon the participation of the viewer, rather than the random chance of a slight breeze that makes Alexander Calder’s hanging mobiles dance so exquisitely, or that gives George Rickey’s steel armatures their slow, often ponderous motion. 

Even in the rare artworks that Folmer designed to be powered by electric motors, they transform calmly and deliberately rather than with the seemingly chaotic movement of Jean Tingueley’s powered assemblages of found objects, machines that seem to be teetering on the brink of self-destruction. Similarly, they reflect Folmer’s very different and distinctive world-view, one heavily influenced by his lifelong interest in geometry and it’s application in the natural world, a world strictly governed by the laws of geometry, inhabited by dodecahedrons and arranged according to the Golden Mean (or Section d’Or). In this well-ordered world Folmer sought a quasi-divine visual harmony. He did not want to comment on the mechanisation of the modern age, but to find the purest form of beauty at the very heart of it. 

In 1966 Folmer brought an astonishing collection of artworks for exhibition at the Galerie Raymond Cazenave just off the Champs Elysées. Described in the catalogue as ‘Roto-peintures, Roto-corps, Interdimensionel, Giration’ the paintings and sculptures danced and gyrated like party goers, they turned and spun, and in doing so created new artworks with each movement.  

Many of the artworks were painted in the patterns of Op-Art, a style of painting that originated in the USA but swept through South America, Britain and Europe in the early 1960s, where depth and movement could be suggested on a flat surface without any actual movement other than in the eyes of the viewer. But to these Folmer added actual movement. The effect was wholly and distinctively ‘Folmer’, with a cool, restrained and calculated elegance that derived almost entirely from geometric principles rather than fashionable aesthetics.  

In spite of his obsession with higher mathematics, his devotion to the poetry of Stéphane Mallarmé and his many high-flown theories, Folmer was throughout his life a very practical craftsman. These ‘roto’ paintings and sculptures are lasting testament to Folmer’s simple ability to make things. In the final years of the Second World War he had created among the very first ‘constructions’, sculptures that were assembled rather than modelled or sculpted, using splintered and discarded pieces of wood gleaned from the ruined outskirts of Paris. He created ink drawings applying the pigment with an array of rollers and other tools of his own creation. And today his daughter still retains a minutely detailed 3-dimensional model of his studio at La Ruche compete with artworks and drawing implements to scale. Created using whatever materials came to hand, on a purely practical level these works display exceptional ‘build-quality’.