Sunday, January 13, 2013


GAUGUIN IN THE TROPICS



The life and works of Paul Gauguin in Tahiti and the Marquises


In the spring of 1891, an elegant and comfortable ship calledOcéanien crosses the Indic Ocean en route to the French colonies in New Caledonia. Its picturesque passengers, divided into three classes under the deck, covered from rich, important functionaries and landowners; to young people of humble origins who traveled to the colonies searching a future that the old France was not able to assure. In other words, the transoceanic ship was sort of a human zoo, a circus with so many actors that nobody noticed the presence of a middle age man with a powerful moustache, who spent the endless hours sitting on the deck, gazing into the horizon. Nevertheless, that anonymous personage who occupied one of the humble third-class cabins was not an ordinary passenger. He was an admired painter called Paul Gauguin, who travelled to Tahiti searching an artistic redemption, a comeback to the primitive and the exotic that could help him to find a way in which his Art could be purified. In his own words, "Occident is rotten (.) and anyone who is like Hercules can find new strengths travelling to far-away places. And coming back one or two years after, solid"
Nevertheless, Gauguin's trip was not exactly a "poor man's odyssey". In fact, he asked the French ambassador to personally welcome him at Papeete 's harbour, as an official guest of the French Government. In addition, Papeete -the Tahitian capital- was not the tropical paradise that it could have been in former times, the exotic and mysterious town found by great travellers like the legendary Captain Cook. No, Gauguin soon realized that such paradise had been killed after many years of civilian, military and religious colonization. However, there still persisted, in those towns far enough from the capital, an important part of the autochthon and primitive culture Gauguin was searching.
WAS GAUGUIN A COLONIZER?
In the last decades, some art critics and historians -much more documented, perspicacious, and of course malicious than in the past- have claimed to have identified in Gauguin's paternalistic attitude during his first years in Tahiti (when he described Polynesians as "meek" and even "fool") some intentions that could be comparable to those of the first colonizers, who aggressively tried to impose to the natives the laws and faith of the Old Continent.
In "Ia Orana Maria (Salve, Maria)" (New York, Metropolitan Museum ), a work created in 1891, his first year in Tahiti, Gauguin transferred the Catholic iconography to the exotic South Pacific. The Madonna, the child, and even the two women in adoration and the golden-winged angel in the background, are clearly Polynesian natives. Here Gauguin introduced the Catholic Faith in the local culture, making the natives the protagonists of the religious scenes. Nevertheless, this painting, whose composition is very different from those of the European tradition, to the point of that we can not determine with certain if it is an "Annunciation" or an "Adoration", is followed by many works in which the ancestral beliefs of the natives are the protagonists, as in "Manao tupapau" ("The spirit of the dead watches you" (Buffalo, Albright-Knox Art Gallery), considered by Gauguin himself as one of the masterworks of his first Tahitian period. The artist talked about the painting in these words: " This people have a traditional fear to the spirit of dead people (...) I have represented the apparition as a simple little woman because the girl (...) can only see it as a person that she met, a person like herself".
With this painting, Gauguin progressively abandoned the Catholic themes and began to introduce himself into the native beliefs, although he temporary recovered the Christian themes in some paintings such as "Te Tamari No Atua (The birth of Christ") (Munich, Neue Pinakothek) or "Maternité"(two versions, one in the Ermitage and another sold in 2004 at Sotheby's for $39.2 million). These ancestral beliefs achieved a predominant position not only in his artistic oeuvre, but also in his personality. The Catholic "colonizer" had turned into a ferocious detractor of the Catholic Church, while in his interior he began to accept the primitive native beliefs, as we can see in "The white horse" (Paris, Museé de Orsay), in the supreme "Matamua - in olden times-" from the Thyssen collection, which depicts a legendary valley in the middle of the island, in which its inhabitants "still live as in past times"; or in the many statuettes of Gods and idols that he made in the following years.
IDOLS AND GODS
In the last years of his life in the Marquises, Gauguin wrote about the Polynesian sculpture tradition: "This Art has disappeared because of the missionaries, who have considered that sculpture, decoratation, was fetishism, an offence to God". He was right. In fact, at the end of the 19th century, almost all the ancient Polynesian wood sculptures had been destroyed by the devastating Christian missions. Gauguin embarked on an epic work: to give back to the natives their destroyed mythology.
Unfortunately, almost all of the sculptures Gauguin created in Tahiti were carved in low-quality wood, which caused its premature destruction. Nevertheless, the Orsay Museum in Paris conserves two little statuettes of this creative period: the "Idol of the shell" and the "Idol of the pearl". The date of both sculptures, although inexact, can be situated around 1892. In both figures Gauguin has represented the Polynesian god Taaroa, whose shell contains -according to the Polynesian tradition- the entire universe. But it was in 1894, back in Paris (we will talk about this comeback in the next chapter) when Gauguin created his undisclosed masterpiece in sculpture: the statuette of "Oviri" (Paris, Orsay Museum), a sinister representation of the Polynesian God of the death and the mourning. The figure, which Gauguin called La Tueuse(The killer) is a disturbing female figure of primitive and crude gestures, long hair and huge eyes, which stands over the terrific figure of a dead wolf.
But this iconographic recuperation that Gauguin made is not only visible in the three-dimensional works: in the following years, the artist transferred this "invented" iconography to his paintings, where he did find more possibilities: in the canvas, the gods and idols could change its scale, turning into the main protagonists of the scene ("The day of the gods", 1894); or in spirits as disturbing apparitions ("Riders in the beach", 1902)
THE INTERMISSION IN FRANCE
But Gauguin's life in Tahiti was far from being paradisiacal: in addition to the heartrending solitude and his perennial economic difficulties, it was added, in the last months of 1892, an illness in his eyes, added to constant diarrheas and coughing up of blood that forced him to be hospitalized for many months. Desperate, he wrote to the French Ministry begging him for a repatriation that took place at the end of the following year.
Back at home, and after being hospitalized in Paris in much better sanitary conditions than in the Polynesian islands, (and after receiving the inheritance of his uncle Isidore), his physical and economical situation improved. He rented an apartment in Paris and lived there with Annah the Javanese. In addition, Gauguin exhibited fifty of his works in an important exhibition of modern Art in Copenhagen. In other words, nobody could suppose that Gauguin's adventure in the Polynesia could be repeated.
But Gauguin returned. He returned two years later, after discovering that he had contracted syphilis. He returned after a brawl in which his ankle was broken. He returned after painting in Paris a praise, a fantasy of the Tahitian culture, the masterwork entitled "Mahana no Atua (The day of the gods") (Chicago, Art Institute), in which the goddess Hina is adored by a group of women who dance surrounded by multicolour waters. In short, he returned after realizing that his place was no more among the European people. "What a stupid way of life, the European way of life!" On April 3rd, Gauguin left Europe, never to return again.
"I AM A CRIMINAL" - BACK IN TAHITI
"I want to end my life here, in the solitude of my shack. Oh yes, here I am a criminal, but... what is wrong with that? Michelangelo was also a criminal."
Back in Tahiti, Gauguin felt liberated, free of any artistic or social corset. In his progressive separation from any vestige of the European society, he left Papeete and moved to a sack in the middle of the countryside, perhaps searching that fabulous valley he had depicted in the "Matamua".
Free of these social conventions, Gauguin created a newArtistic Eve using Tahitian women as his model. The artist had never hidden his admiration for Tahitian young women, even for the too young ones (his lover Pau'ura was only 14 years old), and, during his French intermission, he boasted in front of his friends about his conquests, saying that every night several Tahitian girls jumped into his bed "as possessed by evil spirits" (an attitude that gave him a nice syphilis) The female figure is the protagonist in such famous works as "Te arii Vahine (The queen of the beauty") (1896, Moscow, Pushkin Museum), "Girls with mango flowers (or Two Tahitian)" (1899, New York, Metropolitan Museum.)
Another paradigmatical work of this period is the famous"Nevermore" (1897, Courtauld Institute Galleries, London), a work in which the female nude is still visible. Nevertheless, something from the old Europe is still present in the work: the painting pays tribute to the famous poem by Edgar Allan Poe, which Gauguin had listened at the Café Voltaire. However, the raven -main protagonist of Poe's story, in which it is depicted as sinister and menacing- is in Gauguin's canvas not as important as the strong and vibrant female nude.
WHERE DO WE COME FROM? WHAT ARE WE? WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Paul Gauguin affirmed that after painting “Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going” he tried to commit suicide. We don't know for certain if that confession was true or not, but it's a fact that just before painting his masterwork, a series of events followed each other in a dramatic sequence, as presaging a tragic end that would happen five years later. First, his economic situation became extremely difficult –however, he rejected an important amount of money offered by the Ministry because he considered it a “charity”- while the syphilis and the alcoholism turned his physical situation into a torture. Nevertheless, the worst hit arrived by mail: in the spring of 1891, a letter informed him of the death of his daughter Aline, age 21. This tragic event provoked not only the break-up with his wife –irrationally accusing her of Aline's death- but also his definitive rupture with any vestige of faith. In a devastating letter wrote that year, Gauguin affirmed: “My daughter is dead. Now I don't need God.”
In such psychical condition Gauguin embarks on the epic mission of creating his artistic testament, a work that resumes all his other creations: Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? is not only the most colossal canvas ever painted by Paul Gauguin, but it's also the work that explains the entire philosophical and pictorial doctrine of the artist.
In a striking horizontal format, the canvas follows an inverted chronological order, beginning at the left corner with the heartrending figure of an ancient mummy in fetal position, her ears covered with her hands; while at the right corner, a baby, symbol of the life and the innocence, is surrounded by three Tahitian young women. At the centre of the picture, the figure of a man who takes a fruit symbolizes the temptation of the man. Structuring the canvas in an inverted chronological order, Gauguin seems to point the primitive, the innocent, as the only one way for the artist.
THE LAST CHORD - FLIGHT INTO THE MARQUISES
In September 1901, Gauguin left Tahiti and took up his residence in the Marquises Islands. The reason of this flight is still not clarified: while his admirers suggest that the artist was seeking a new stage to his artistic concerns, many historians have noted that his physical deterioration was so evident that his popularity among Tahitian girls was below zero, forcing him to long periods of abstinence. Anyways, Gauguin established himself in Hiva Da, the main island of the Marquises archipelago, in the lands owned by the Catholic Church. Just before his trip, he painted a beautiful farewell to Tahiti in his " Idyll in Tahiti" (1901, Zurich , E. G. Buhrle collection)
The female figure is still a fundamental part in his artistic oeuvre. In "Contes Barbares" ("exotic legends", 1902, Essen, Folkwang Museum ), Gauguin once again praised Polynesian beauty, depicting two beautiful girls, sitting in an exotic landscape. Behind them, Gauguin represented the figure of his friend Meyer de Hann, a Parisian poet. It is quite curious that the figure of the western man is depicted as a demon with feline eyes and sharpening claws.
Nevertheless, Gauguin was at the time beginning to sense his own death: his physical deterioration was then unstoppable, and the artist was tempted -for the first time in many years- to return to Europe. However, he was still strong enough to paint. His compositions from these last years are full of metaphors for death, as it is evident in his last masterwork, the two versions of "Riders on the beach" (Essen, Folkwang Museum, and Niarchos collection). In this kind of tribute to Degas racetrack pictures, Gauguin represented the riders in an apparently endless beach. The whole picture is filled with the melancholic taste of a farewell, as predicting the artist's own death a few months later: the riders are quietly approaching to the seaside, where a breaker wave marks the limit between land and sea -or between life and death- from where two mysterious, colour-dressed spirits have appeared, perhaps to accompany the spirits in their last trip. The fancy coloured work is Gauguin's pictorial testament and an eloquent ode to the Polynesian way of life.
On May 8th, 1903, in the middle of multiple physical, economical and juridical problems, Gauguin died. The legend, not always veridical, tells that the natives, informed of the artist's death, began to shout: "Gauguin is dead! There is no paradise!"

By  G. Fernández
























Tuesday, January 1, 2013

MARIO GIACOMELLI

MARIO GIACOMELLI

Born in Senigallia in1925, Mario Giacomelli's path as a photographer is probably the least typical one can imagine for one who has bacome a master of this art. The son of a very poor family, during his childhood Mario would follow his mother to the town shelter where she worked as a washer woman. At 13, he began to work for a printing firm, fascinated by the endless possibilities of creating and dismantling words and images. At the same time, he painted, took part enthusiastically in car racing and secretly wrote poetry.
In 1954 he bought his first camera and between 1954 and 1957 he entered numerous photographic competitions in Italy. After completing his first body of work entitled "Life in the shelter", depicting images of the old and infirm at his mother's workplace, he began a series of male and female nudes, which he gave >up in the 60's.
Assailed by the desire to analyse of his own narrator's identity, Giacomelli began travelling; but they were only brief forays into other ways of life, rather than real journeys, which served to remind him of the social exclusion of his childhood. Various situations and stimuli then lead Giacomelli to visit towns around Italy. In Spring 1957 he went to Scanno, a village in central Italy which had already fascinated Cartier- Bresson, where Giacomelli produced such masterpieces as "Scanno Boy".
On the birth of Giacomelli's son , tragically born disabled, the family visited France for a brief period. They travelled to Lourdes, a site of great spirituality and renowned for healing, where Giacomelli produced some amazingly powerful and emotional images. In the Sixties, Giacomelli worked on the project en 7titled "No hands caress my face", better known as "Pretini" series, which is an almost performance-lead body of work taken in the seminary of Senigallia and later shown at Cologne Photokina in 1963. At the same time, John Szarbowski, the Head of the Department of Photography of MOMA in New York, bought some pictures of "Scanno", and published one in his book entitled "Looking at Photographs: 100 Pictures from the collection of the Museum of Modern Art".
Fueled by his recent success with the "Pretini" series, shown at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and also in Brussels, in 1967, Giacomelli began new, abstract study on wood. In the 70s he improved his study on nature, combining his first aerial views with his first venture into using colour in his photography. From the end of the Seventies, which w &ere characterised by a more tighter link between photography, abstract art and poetry, Giacomelli went through a period of analysis and reinvestigation of his own artistic activity. Still today Giacomelli is continually elaborating and reassembling the images from his past years towards new projects related to various poetic works.


















The Song of Wind and Rain


"You are kinder than a leaf under the kisses of rain
The wakefulness of stars in the eyes of stream
The mirror of your eyes the unity of morning and shore
Your rare smile a star-pouring morning
come back, cause in your absence, my silent insanity
Made the mountains rock stream
you running brook, don't run from this shadow leaf
Since the opportunity has been missed by so many
The wall of life has been painted with memories
By many before you and me
You said: "Love has been set in my heart over time," I said:
You can not strike it out even by time
Till remains in the world the song of wind and rain
our love melody will remain after you and me."

Shafii Kadkani

Always For the First Time


Hardly do I know you by sight
You return at some hour of the night to a house at an angle to my window
A wholly imaginary house
It is there that from one second to the next
In the inviolate darkness
I anticipate once more the fascinating rift occurring
The one and only rift
In the facade and in my heart
The closer I come to you
In reality
The more the key sings at the door of the unknown room
Where you appear alone before me
At first you coalesce entirely with the brightness
The elusive angle of a curtain
It's a field of jasmine I gazed upon at dawn on a road in the vicinity of Grasse
With the diagonal slant of its girls picking
Behind them the dark falling wing of the plants stripped bare
Before them a T-square of dazzling light
The curtain invisibly raised
In a frenzy all the flowers swarm back in
It is you at grips with that too long hour never dim enough until sleep
You as though you could be
The same except that I shall perhaps never meet you
You pretend not to know I am watching you
Marvelously I am no longer sure you know
You idleness brings tears to my eyes
A swarm of interpretations surrounds each of your gestures
It's a honeydew hunt
There are rocking chairs on a deck there are branches that may well scratch you in the forest
There are in a shop window in the rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette
Two lovely crossed legs caught in long stockings
Flaring out in the center of a great white clover
There is a silken ladder rolled out over the ivy
There is
By my leaning over the precipice
Of your presence and your absence in hopeless fusion
My finding the secret
Of loving you
Always for the first time

Andre Breton

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Gustav Klimt


Early life & education


























Gustav Klimt was born in Baumgarten, near Vienna, the second of seven children — three boys and four girls. All three sons displayed artistic talent early on. His father, Ernst Klimt, formerly from Bohemia, was a gold engraver. Ernst married Anna Klimt (née Finster), whose unrealized ambition was to be a musical performer. Klimt lived in poverty for most of his childhood, as work was scarce and the economy difficult for immigrants.
In 1876, Klimt was enrolled in the Vienna School of Arts and Crafts (Kunstgewerbeschule), where he studied until 1883, and received training as an architectural painter. He revered the foremost history painter of the time, Hans Makart. Unlike many young artists, Klimt accepted the principles of conservative Academic training. In 1877 his brother Ernst, who, like his father, would become an engraver, also enrolled in the school. The two brothers and their friend Franz Matsch began working together; by 1880 they had received numerous commissions as a team they called the "Company of Artists". Klimt began his professional career painting interior murals and ceilings in large public buildings on the Ringstraße including a successful series of "Allegories and Emblems".
In 1888, Klimt received the Golden order of Merit from Emperor Franz Josef I of Austria for his contributions to art. He also became an honorary member of the University of Munich and the University of Vienna. In 1892 both Klimt's father and brother Ernst died, and he had to assume financial responsibility for his father's and brother's family. The tragedies affected his artistic vision as well, and soon he would veer toward a new personal style. In the early 1890s, Klimt met Emilie Flöge, who, notwithstanding the artist's relationships with other women, was to be his companion until the end of his life. Whether his relationship with Flöge was sexual or not is debated, but during that period Klimt fathered at least 14 children.
Vienna secession years
Klimt became one of the founding members and president of the Wiener Sezession (Vienna Secession) in 1897 and of the group's periodical Ver Sacrum (Sacred Spring). He remained with the Secession until 1908. The group's goals were to provide exhibitions for unconventional young artists, to bring the best foreign artists works to Vienna, and to publish its own magazine to showcase members' work.The group declared no manifesto and did not set out to encourage any particular style -- Naturalists, Realists, and Symbolists all coexisted. The government supported their efforts and gave them a lease on public land to erect an exhibition hall. The group's symbol was Pallas Athena, the Greek goddess of just causes, wisdom, and the arts -- and Klimt painted his radical version in 1898.
Beginning in the late 1890s Klimt took annual summer holidays with the Flöge family on the shores of Attersee and painted many of his landscapes there. These works constitute the only genre aside from the figure that seriously interested Klimt, and are of a number and quality so as to merit a separate appreciation. Formally, the landscapes are characterized by the same refinement of design and emphatic patterning as the figural pieces. Deep space in the Attersee works is so efficiently flattened to a single plane, it is believed that Klimt painted them while looking through a telescope.
In 1894, Klimt was commissioned to create three paintings to decorate the ceiling of the Great Hall in the University of Vienna. Not completed until the turn of the century, his three paintings, Philosophy, Medicine and Jurisprudence were criticized for their radical themes and material, which was called "pornographic". Klimt had transformed traditional allegory and symbolism into a new language which was more overtly sexual, and hence more disturbing. The public outcry came from all quarters — political, aesthetic, and religious. As a result, they were not displayed on the ceiling of the Great Hall. This would be the last public commission accepted by the artist. All three paintings were destroyed by retreating SS forces in May 1945. His Nuda Verita (1899) defined his bid to further shake up the establishment. The starkly naked red-headed woman holds the mirror of truth, while above it is a quote by Schiller in stylized lettering, "If you cannot please everyone with your deeds and your art, please a few. To please many is bad."
In 1902, Klimt finished the Beethoven Frieze for the 14th Vienna Secessionist exhibition, which was intended to be a celebration of the composer and featured a monumental, polychromed sculpture by Max Klinger. Meant for the exhibition only, the frieze was painted directly on the walls with light materials. After the exhibition the painting was preserved, although it did not go on display until 1986.
Golden phase and critical success
Klimt's 'Golden Phase' was marked by positive critical reaction and success. Many of his paintings from this period utilized gold leaf; the prominent use of gold can first be traced back to Pallas Athene (1898) and Judith I (1901), although the works most popularly associated with this period are the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I (1907) and The Kiss (1907 - 1908). Klimt traveled little but trips to Venice and Ravenna, both famous for their beautiful mosaics, most likely inspired his gold technique and his Byzantine imagery. In 1904, he collaborated with other artists on the lavish Palais Stoclet, the home of a wealthy Belgian industrialist, which was one of the grandest monuments of the Art Nouveau age. Klimt's contributions to the dining room, including both Fulfillment and Expectation, were some of his finest decorative work, and as he publicly stated, "probably the ultimate stage of my development of ornament." Between 1907 and 1909, Klimt painted five canvases of society women wrapped in fur. His apparent love of costume is expressed in the many photographs of Flöge modeling clothing she designed.
As he worked and relaxed in his home, Klimt normally wore sandals and a long robe with no undergarments. His simple life was somewhat cloistered, devoted to his art and family and little else except the Secessionist Movement, and he avoided café society and other artists socially. Klimt's fame usually brought patrons to his door, and he could afford to be highly selective. His painting method was very deliberate and painstaking at times and he required lengthy sittings by his subjects. Though very active sexually, he kept his affairs discreet and he avoided personal scandal. Like Rodin, Klimt also utilized mythology and allegory to thinly disguise his highly erotic nature, and his drawings often reveal purely sexual interest in women as objects. His models were routinely available to him to pose in any erotic manner that pleased him. Many of the models were prostitutes as well.
Klimt wrote little about his vision or his methods. He wrote mostly postcards to Flöge and kept no diary. In a rare writing called "Commentary on a non-existent self-portrait", he states "I have never painted a self-portrait. I am less interested in myself as a subject for a painting than I am in other people, above all women...There is nothing special about me. I am a painter who paints day after day from morning to night...Who ever wants to know something about me... ought to look carefully at my pictures."
Later life & posthumous success
In 1911 his painting Death and Life received first prize in the world exhibitions in Rome. In 1915 his mother Anna died. Klimt died three years later in Vienna on February 6, 1918, having suffered a stroke and pneumonia. He was interred at the Hietzing Cemetery in Vienna. Numerous paintings were left unfinished.

Style & recurring themes
Klimt's work is distinguished by the elegant gold or coloured decoration, often of a phallic shape that conceals the more erotic positions of the drawings upon which many of his paintings are based. This can be seen in Judith I (1901), and in The Kiss (1907–1908), and especially in Danaë (1907). One of the most common themes Klimt utilized was that of the dominant woman, the femme fatale. Art historians note an eclectic range of influences contributing to Klimt's distinct style, including Egyptian, Minoan, Classical Greek, and Byzantine inspirations. Klimt was also inspired by the engravings of Albrecht Dürer, late medieval European painting, and Japanese Rimpa school. His mature works are characterized by a rejection of earlier naturalistic styles, and make use of symbols or symbolic elements to convey psychological ideas and emphasize the "freedom" of art from traditional culture.

Barbara


Remember Barbara
It rained incessantly on Brest that day
And you walked smiling
Radiant delighted streaming wet
In the rain
Remember Barbara
It rained incessantly on Brest
And I came across you on Siam Street
You were smiling
And I smiled too
Remember Barbara
You whom I did not know
You who did not know me
Remember
Still remember that day
Do not forget
A man was sheltering under a porch
And he called out your name
Barbara
And you ran to him in the rain
Dripping enchanted blossoming,
And you flung yourself into his arms
Remember that Barbara
And do not be mad if I address you as tu
I say tu to all those I love
Even if I have seen them only once
I say tu to all who love each other
Even if I do not know them.
Remember Barbara
Do not forget
This rain wise and happy
On your happy face
On this happy city
This rain on the sea
On the arsenal
On the boat Ushant
Oh Barbara
What a bloody farce this war.
What has become of you now
Under this rain of iron
Of fire of steel of blood
And the one who enclosed you in his arms
Lovingly
Is he dead or disappeared or indeed still living
Oh Barbara
It rains constantly in Brest
As it was raining before
But this is not the same and everything is ruined
This is a rain of mourning terrible and desolate
Now it is not even the storm
Of iron of steel of blood 
But merely of clouds
That simply die like dogs
Dogs that disappear
In the water flowing over Brest
And will rot away
In the distance far from Brest
Of which nothing remains.

 Jacques Prevert