Bed

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Robert Rauschenberg

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Bed

Robert Rauschenberg. Bed. 1955. Oil and pencil on pillow, quilt, and sheet on wood supports, 6' 3 1/4" x 31 1/2" x 8" (191.1 x 80 x 20.3 cm). Gift of Leo Castelli in honor of Alfred H. Barr, Jr. © 2014 Robert Rauschenberg Foundation/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY

Audio Program excerpt

MoMA Audio: Collection

2013

Director, Glenn Lowry: Robert Rauschenberg created Bed at a time when he was struggling to make it as an artist. In 2006, Rauschenberg recalled what led him to use a quilt and pillow as the basis for this work.

Artist, Robert Rauschenberg: It was very simply put together, because I actually had nothing to paint on. Except it was summertime and it was hot, so I didn't need the quilt. So the quilt was, I thought, abstracted. But it wasn't abstracted enough, so that no matter what I did to it, it kept saying, "I'm a bed." So, finally I gave in and I gave it a pillow.

Glenn Lowry: Rauschenberg blurs the line between an object that exists in the world and an object as a work of art.

Curator, Ann Temkin: I think you can look at Bed as a work that literally wanted to mess up the idea of painting as something as pure and elegant, and instead, say that painting could be something thats kind of bodily. I think he wanted the idea of a bed partly because you do think of a bed in association with all sorts of bodily functions, happy ones and unhappy ones. And there couldn't be any more direct way of saying, art can be about our animal selves, not just our cerebral, intellectually, emotionally elevated selves.

The Museum of Modern Art, MoMA Highlights, New York: The Museum of Modern Art, revised 2004, originally published 1999, p. 207

Bed is one of Rauschenberg's first Combines, his own term for his technique of attaching cast–off items, such as rubber tires or old furniture, to a traditional support. In this case he framed a well–worn pillow, sheet, and quilt, scribbled them with pencil, and splashed them with paint, in a style derived from Abstract Expressionism. In mocking the seriousness of that ambitious art, Rauschenberg predicted an attitude more widespread among later generations of artists—the Pop artists, for example, who also appreciated Rauschenberg's relish for everyday objects.

Legend has it that the bedclothes in Bed are Rauschenberg's own, pressed into use when he lacked the money to buy a canvas. Since the artist himself probably slept under this very sheet and quilt, Bed is as personal as a self-portrait, or more so—a quality consistent with Rauschenberg's statement, "Painting relates to both art and life. . . . (I try to act in that gap between the two)." Although the materials here come from a bed, and are arranged like one, Rauschenberg has hung them on the wall, like a work of art. So the bed loses its function, but not its associations with sleep, dreams, illness, sex—the most intimate moments in life. Critics have also projected onto the fluid-drenched fabric connotations of violence and morbidity.