What Is Orphism? Inside the 20th-Century Abstract Art Movement

Guillaume Apollinaire first laid eyes on the fragmented, color-soaked paintings of Robert Delaunay at Paris’s Salon de la Section d’Or in 1912. In this moment, the French poet saw that the move towards abstraction that they represented wasn’t isolated; instead, it rippled across Paris. Famous for his way with words, he dubbed it Orphism, a reference to Orpheus, the mythical figure whose music allowed him to enter the underworld. For Apollinaire, the sweeping abstract paintings captured that same lyrical power—a visual language as boundless as music.

This period saw Paris awash with countless “-isms” and art movements, with Cubism the most popular in the city at that time. Yet Orphism, to Apollinaire, represented a bold departure from the muted, figurative geometry of Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque. Instead, a cohort of artists—Delaunay, his wife Sonia, František Kupka, Francis Picabia, and Fernand Léger, among others—veered dramatically into colorful abstraction. Amid the technological and scientific boom of the early 20th century, these artists explored how light, color, and abstract forms could evoke the sensory energy of modern life without relying on representational forms.

Offering a fragmented and lyrical view of Paris at the turn of the century, the works now ascend the rotunda of the Guggenheim Museum. “Harmony and Dissonance: Orphism in Paris, 1910–1930,” organized by senior curators Tracey Bashkoff and Vivien Greene, presents over 90 pieces by 26 artists. On view until March 9, 2025, the exhibition explores how artists used abstraction to capture the unfamiliar rhythms of modern life.

Origins of Orphism

Orphism didn’t spring from a vacuum; rather, it emerged from the creative hotbed of early 20th-century Paris. And while it evolved under the influence of Cubism, its spirit was born from the broader palette of Neo-Impressionism and its theories of color and light.

The works on the first level of the rotunda nod to this influence. For instance, Paul Signac’s Opus 217. Against the Enamel of a Background Rhythmic with Beats and Angles, Tones, and Tints, Portrait of M. Félix Fénéon in 1890 (1890)—a figure in a colorful suit, extending his hand toward a background of abstract, rhythmic patterns—foreshadows the Orphists’ fascination with color. Likewise, Wassily Kandinsky’s painting Improvisation 28 (Second Version) (1912), hung next to Signac in the Guggenheim, evokes the manic sensibilities of Orphism.

The obsession with color that characterizes the Orphist mindset can largely be attributed to chemist Michel-Eugène Chevreul, whose studies on adjacent colors, and how they affect one another, visually revolutionized the use of color in art. Building on Chevreul’s principles, the Delaunays—Robert and Sonia—developed their theory of “simultaneity.” This theory sought to capture multiple perspectives and moments within a single painting. Robert’s Simultaneous Contrasts: Sun and Moon (1913)—a circular canvas exploding with reds, greens, yellows, and blues on view in the museum’s High Gallery—underscores this need to convey immediacy.

In this spirit, the Orphists aimed to express the essence of modernity itself—fast-moving, energized, and often chaotic—through their art. Using abstract forms and vibrant colors, they captured the sensations of new speedy transportation systems, electric light, and increasingly mechanized city life. They created a visual language that echoed the era’s technological advances and transformed art into a sensory experience.

Harmony and dissonance in the city

The idea of the modern city—especially Paris—was at the heart of Orphism. One of the earliest works in the show, Robert Delaunay’s Eiffel Tower (1911), reimagines the iconic structure with glowing, fractured geometry, while Léger’s The Smokers (1911–12) examines the city’s social fabric, using fragmented, obscure forms to depict a smoking figure. These works signal an early shift from traditional representation toward a more abstract and liberated interpretation of visual reality.

Music and dance also infused Orphism with a palpable energy. As Greene noted, Apollinaire chose Orphism to reference “this idea of music being the most abstract of the arts,” inspired by how Orpheus could bend nature with his song. This frenetic influence comes to life in Sonia Delaunay’s Bal Bullier (1913). Almost 11 feet wide, this hypnotic, intense work juxtaposes rectangular and circular forms with fluid, curved shapes, and the abstracted forms of couples dancing the tango.

As in music, harmony and dissonance coexist in Orphist artworks, creating a balance of contrasting colors meant to mirror the dynamic rhythms of modern life. This sensory experience reflects the dual nature of modernity, where we oscillate between the grating and the pleasurable. “On one hand, there’s all this incredible innovation: the city has been transformed, and there’s a lot of utopian thinking about social change,” said Greene. “But, just like living in New York City, we know better than anyone that modern life can also disrupt—the noise, the chaos, and so forth,” she added.

Circles and the cosmos

Circular forms became a central motif for Orphist compositions, something that, as Greene told Artsy, “[the Guggenheim rotunda] lends itself to.” Many pieces on the five spiraling levels draw on a growing 20th-century curiosity about the cosmos. Giacomo Balla’s Mercury Passing before the Sun (1914), for instance, captures a celestial event with a swirling, orange gyre-like abstraction. Balla, observing Mercury pass across the sun through a telescope, used Orphist techniques to convey his personal, subjective experience of this planetary phenomenon.

“It’s the science of the moment,” said Greene, referencing this early 20th-century interest. “People have access to microscopes. They also have access to telescopes. There are also a lot of planetary events that just happen to be in this time: Halley’s Comet, a full solar eclipse, another comet, and several lunar eclipses.”

An unexpected ensemble

Orphism is often dismissed as a flash in the pan or, perhaps even more readily, as a mere offshoot of Cubism—a loose grouping of artists whose standing rests on the word of a poet. Indeed, the core of the Orphist movement flickered out as the chaos of World War I unsettled the world. “There’s a return to figuration because the war was so upsetting for people, and the idea of fragmentation and abstraction, things that weren’t calm or rational, became unsettling,” said Greene. Still, Orphism’s emphasis on color and abstraction seeped into broader modernist movements, which is visible in later artists’ works.

The exhibition also explores how this abstract art movement moved beyond artists residing in Paris during the early 20th century. On view are two works by Irish artist Mainie Jellett, for instance, which are characterized by polychromatic circular forms overlapping one another. Jellett was a student of Albert Gleizes, whose Painting for Contemplation, Dominant Rose and Green (1942), is shown next to her work. While Gleizes was associated with the original Orphist movement, Jellett learned the movement’s ideals through his teaching both in Paris and the south of France. Elsewhere in the show are two American painters, Stanton Macdonald-Wright and Morgan Russell, who studied in Paris during the era of Orphism. They developed Synchromism, a style that reflected Orphist principles of color, music, and simultaneity—leading some critics to claim they appropriated these ideas.