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The Painting Discussion Thread.

 
  

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Olulabelle
21:31 / 15.03.04
This is a thread which has been inspired by Bedhead's comments here. It's a thread where we can post paintings which we feel strongly about, and then discuss what we do or don't like about them, what we feel about them and why. We can talk about style, and subject matter, 'figurative' versus 'abstract' art and really anything that takes our fancy. It's just a general discussion about particular pieces of art, and if you don't really get it, go and read Bedhead's post as linked to beforehand.

There are just a few rules (come on, there always have to be some rules).

1/Only post one painting at a time (I am blatantly flouting these rules but that's just to get the conversation started).

2/Post only paintings you feel strongly about.

3/Write who the painting is by, and its name.

4/Write a short (I mean really brief) bit about why you have posted it.

5/Then wait for everyone else to discuss it. Be prepared to answer questions. Oh, and I would also say it would be cool not to have 50,000 pictures posted, but no discussion. Can we try to let the current painting conversation die out before the next image is posted?

So here we are:

Painting Number One: Woman in Chemise, Pablo Picasso.



This picture fascinates me, it's my favourite Picasso style. It's tonally absolutely beautiful, and also it makes me feel very voyeuristic when I look at it.



Painting Number Two: The Arnolfini Portrait, Jan Van Eyck.



I have chosen this because I am intrigued by the suggested relationship between the painter (depicted in the mirror) and the subjects. I am also charmed by the dog, the room they are in (is it a bedroom)? and the weird shoes!



Painting Number Three: Anna, 2002, John Bellany.



As a Synaesthete I have always loved John Bellany. This painting in particular is delightful to me because of the intensity of colour, but I also find myself drawn to the the lack of expression in the subject's eyes.
 
 
Ethan Hawke
16:06 / 16.03.04
(Before I comment, can I suggest some other 'rules' - date, dimensions, media, and "home"? Honestly, it drives me crazy when I don't know these things when I see a painting reproduced. I accept that others may feel differently, but I'm of the opinion that such information is very important, and if we're posting one painting apiece, it shouldn't be that onerous to get that info.)
 
 
Ethan Hawke
16:16 / 16.03.04
Picasso on a different, though similar, Woman in a Chemise.

"Picasso described how he had once shown his great Woman in a Chemise in an Armchair of 1913 to Braque: 'Is this woman real?' Picasso had asked. 'Could she go out in the street? Is she a woman or a picture?' Picasso went on at Braque. 'Do her armpits smell?' And the two artists proceeded to use the armpit quotient as a test of real painting. 'This one smells a bit but not that one...' I remember hearing Picasso listing other intimate attributes that a painting of a woman should convey - attributes I will spare the reader."

(I got this from The Grove Book of Art Writing, which I highly recommend. It was readily availably because I posted it on my blog a few weeks ago.)

The Woman Olullabelle posted is similarly earthy. It's a very sensual picture, even though it's as "artificial" in it's own way as the later woman. The the almost flat quality of the painting (if it isn't, it's close to a full profile) looks forward to the distortions of space and perspective of cubism, but also looks back through art history, as it's almost Egyptian in pose and tone.
 
 
Jack Vincennes
09:39 / 17.03.04
About the Van Eyck painting -there's something about portraits like that which I find really appealing. It's the fact that there's so much to notice about them; olulabelle mentioned the dog, shoes and artist in the mirror, and none of them are things that could be picked up with a cursory glance. As far as I know, there's no obvious symbolism (in the sense that there was in the religious art of the time) but there's still the sense of a lot to be decoded -in that it's not clear where the figures are, or what their relationship to each other, or the painter, is like.

It's entirely possible that my basis for enjoying this kind of art is a book I had when I was nine, called something like 'Learning To Look At Paintings', that used these kinds of portraits extensively in examples. It seems to have stuck with me...
 
 
Turk
03:15 / 18.03.04
The John Bellany, what I particularly like about it is that although as Todd says, it's a revision cubism and earlier movements in painting, it bares a remarkable resemblance to the carefully studied portraits of untrained highschoolers, which gives a really interesting perspective on how they break an image down. I'm certainly going to look at them in a different light.

Okay, I'm going to toss in one of my favourites;

The Umbrellas, Pierre-Auguste Renoir
1881 - 6
Oil on Canvas
180 x 114cm
National Gallery of London

I have always felt a connection since first I saw this painting, largely because for a young man I am deeply empathetic of the trials of feminism, and this painting has it spades. Just look at the dude over her shoulder, leering out our herione on the left, forlorn as she is living in a man's world, sans umbrella. Even her dress, as woman she must wear nothing more practical, is a hinderance laid on her by da man, or perhaps moreover society at large. I guess it never hurts to throw in a child to bare innocent witness, to stare directly at the viewer, perhaps question how different I am from the leering jerk in the picture. I'm possibly being deeply unfair to that chap, but I'm bringing my own baggage all right?
I also like how so much is happening in the foreground, yet glance up into the crowd behind and it pulls you in past the scene before you. Neat.

Yep, I like it.
 
 
Ethan Hawke
12:07 / 18.03.04
I was actually commenting strictly on the Picasso Olulabelle posted, not the Bellany, but I can see how the confusion could arise. Bellany's portrait is also pretty "flat," giving it a naive quality while also aligning it with the abstract and minimalistic art that dominated the mid-part of the 20th century. This painting easily breaks down into a primary scheme, and the high chroma of the pigments used gives it an almost unearthly tone. (it might just be three pigments (cadmium red medium, ultramarine, and ochre? cadmium yellow?) and white, but I'm not sophisticated enough to determine that yet). The big eyes remind me of early Lucien Freud.

While I'm not crazy about Renoir in general, this painting (as well as another one the name of which escapes me - a busy dancing scene) shows a highly sophisticated understanding of light and a composition that looks highly complex and chaotic, but is really simply and ordered. I like it a lot.
 
 
Ethan Hawke
12:49 / 25.03.04
*bump* c'mon, people!
 
 
Tom Coates
13:51 / 25.03.04
I've always had a bit of an obsession with the work of Kasimir Malevich who was a Russian Supremacist artist who did large geometric paintings of stunning simplicity.

The one I'd most like to talk about is a white canvas with several crosses on it that are supposed to convey a feeling of infinite space. I can't find that one online anywhere, so I'm going to post one of his based on black squares below. The obvious reaction to the painting will be that 'it's just a square' but I think that's so ludicrously naive a reading as to be almost offensive. Malevich thought that if the artist was just capturing pictures of things in the real world, he wasn't really an artist at all - he was the equivalent of a photographer. He aspired to capture more fundamental forms, abstract shapes and sensations - almost platonic ideas. The square in the above painting is meticulously painted, the space around it is carefully textural as well, and the effect isn't of a flat shape but of something with tremendous depth. That it's so tightly framed makes it bear down upon you - it's intimidating and fundamental and structural and iconic. I love it.
 
 
Tom Coates
13:55 / 25.03.04
Apologies - here is the picture in question:



Other beautiful paintings of his involving squares include the following:

[image broken]

[image broken]
 
 
Persephone
14:58 / 25.03.04
Oh damn, I got myself up to talk about that Renoir... well, I like Malevich quite a bit; there was a Malevich show at the Guggenheim this summer that was really fantastic.

I'd never say that a painting is "just a square," but I think that

if the artist was just capturing pictures of things in the real world, he wasn't really an artist at all - he was the equivalent of a photographer

is naive in its own way. To me, art is a lot about psychologies --i.e., different psychologies will produce different kinds of art. Including photography! Actually, this reminds me a bit of the Alternate Universe You thread in Conversation... an artist is a nexus of --who knows-- dozens or hundreds or thousands of factors. To offer myself up as an example, I have very little facility for figurative work. I don't mean as a painter, I mean as a viewer. When I look at that Renoir --waste not, want not!-- I'm basically subtracting the figures & being impressed by the color fields. Which I don't think is the most intelligent way to look at Renoir.

But my new way into paintings is something that Todd said a couple weeks ago. About how a painting depicts heaven or hell. That works for me, for any kind of painting. Is Renoir depicting heaven or hell? Is Malevich depicting heaven or hell? Then go from there. It's not the only way in, it's just one way in... but it takes me more interesting places than other ways, I suppose...
 
 
Ethan Hawke
15:24 / 25.03.04
P, that's probably the BEST way to look at Renoir, actually. I think that's much how he wanted to be looked at, at least.

Actually, it wasn't ~me~ who said that - I was quoting David Hockney quoting Edvard Munch. In this schema, Malevich, it would seem to me, would be depicting Heaven - a world of form. Or the shadow of the world of form. It's interesting that Tom noted the hand-made aspect of Malevich - the brush strokes, the "texture" because although the history of 20th C. abstraction can be written as a journey towards Flatness (greenberg, etc.), artists like Malevich and Mondrian, although they were trying to capture pure form, and their painting process was very precise, were unconcerned with disguising brushstrokes and other evidence of human agency. What does that say of their view of form?
 
 
lentil
15:37 / 25.03.04
Mmm, I do find Malevich fascinating. Bit rusty on this, but am I right in thinking that the aim of Suprematism was to remove all reference to anything outside of the work? By this I mean not just the removal of reference to physical objects a la Mondrian, but an actual attempt to remove all emotional resonance, suggestion of abstract space etc., and arrive at a ‘pure’ form (or Platonic, as mentioned above). That just intrigues me because it’s so obviously impossible, or at least the fact that you’ll end up with a blank canvas if you follow that route seems obvious from a modern perspective, but the journey made to end up at that blank canvas produces such rich work. Tom’s comments about being engulfed by the density of space reminds me very much of Rothko – the almost unbearable pressure of the density of colour and surface you’re presented with.

My favoutite Malevich though is the one where he uses a red and black square to symbolise an icon painting of the Madonna and Child. Black square for Mary’s head, parallel to the edges of the canvas, and smaller red square for Christ’s head, inclined at the same angle as his head would be in traditional icon painting. He also hung this painting in the top corner of a room, mimicking the traditional positioning. I’m kind of obsessed with the ways in which particular images can become loaded with an incredibly dense network of meanings and associations, and the Madonna and Child is one of the primary (Western) examples of this. I’m not sure what the implication of replacing these symbols with squares is – on the one hand it could be arguing for the truth of Russian Orthodox Christianity, by saying that its symbology is as basic and inherent as the simplest gestalt forms, or it could be read as revealing the arbitrariness of symbol systems, while still impying that the symbols point to a deeper truth. Either way it makes my brain tickly to think about, and that is pleasing.

Here’s a link to that one – Black Square and Red Square
1915; Oil on canvas, 71.4 x 44.4 cm (28 x 17 1/2 in); The Museum of Modern Art, New York



Postscript because I saw Persephone’s post just before sending mine – I agree with you that Malevich’s statement equating any sort of depiction with photography is naïve (not to mention the assumption that ‘just’ being a photographer is worse than being a painter), but I think, particularly in those heady days of Modernism but generally too, broad and untenable statements about the nature of art are often very useful in creating good art. It’s a bit like what I said further up about the end result of his journey being obvious from a contemporary perspective, but the journey still yielding good work. The first half of last century was chock-full of movements writing manifestos declaring that they’d found the only true way to make art in the modern world, bolstered by the acute awareness that culture and the world had never been quite like this before; it fitted the straight-ahead-progress we-can-build-the-shiny-techno-utopia hubris that was around at the time. Now that the tower has fallen and we’re postmodernists, all of that seems a little quaint and embarrassing, but even today there are a number of artists working with practices that deliberately control or restrict what they do.

Sorry, getting off the point - what I wanted to say was that any artist or group of artists can only ever cover an infinitessimal fragment of what can be said and done with art, and often a sweeping belief or statement that removes most of those possibilities from consideration can be very helpful.

Oh, and “heaven or hell?” is a great thing to have in mind when looking at a painting! Like that a lot. It’s funny because I was planning on posting Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” soon.

(I’d better post this soon or I’ll never finish it!) Todd – on Malevich & Mondrian’s relation to form: I would have thought that the focus on texture gives a greater focus on the painting as an object, making the viewer less likely to bring a representational reading. Similar to how Mondrian always ends his black lines before they reach the edge – he’s not making an illusory space, the form is as real and physical as the edge of the canvas. I guess the closer we are to seeing paint as paint put in a particular shape the closer they are to achieving their aims.
 
 
Persephone
16:09 / 25.03.04
Oh, right! Yes, that's a good way to look at it... like when I'm yammering about right and left brain, I only mean "right" or "left" or "brain." For that matter, I only mean "heaven" and "hell." But that's annoying to look at, isn't it?
 
 
Olulabelle
20:38 / 25.03.04
Oh damn.

I find this kind of abstract art really problematic, not because I can't see the beauty of it but because I like to understand a little of what an artist was thinking when I look at a work, and I find that inherently difficult with most abstract 2D work. I can deal with abstract sculpture, because with form I can almost always can derive some sort of initial standpoint, a beginning idea, or the original place the artist was in when he/she began to create the work. But with 2D abstract art, unless I am told the origins of the idea I find it almost impossible to align the end product with anything tangible; or that I can relate to.

So now I feel frustrated because the Black Square and Red Square which Lentil posted has been defined and I now know the origins of the idea behind the painting and the reasoning and rationale for it. So I like it, and I think it's a beautiful image, and the idea behind it makes sense and I understand it. But I am unsure whether I would have had the same reaction if I had just come across it in a museum without any prior knowledge of it, because I would never have stood in front of it and gone, "You know, for me that's really representative of Madonna and Child." I just wouldn't have got that far, someone would have had to tell me.

And I think that's the main problem. A lot of abstract art relies on someone telling you the 'history' of the image, or the 'story' behind it, and I am not sure that's the right way to approach art. It feels elitist, like, "You will only understand this if you a/ have a degree in Art History, or b/ belong to the Museum trustee's."

I also think that abstract art is very difficult to discuss for a primarily figurative artist (which I am) because it goes against the grain of everything that I stand for. It's not to say that I can't appreciate it for what it is, but it also contradicts my philosophies in that I prefer work that anyone can understand, not just a Goldsmith's graduate.

I don't know if I am explaining myself very well.

I guess my point is that, for example, I love Picasso's earlier work (in particular his 'Rose' period as indentified by the original image I posted). I can also see the value of his later Cubist work, but I don't 'like' it very much. It's an "I can discuss it with you but I wouldn't hang it on my wall" kind of feeling I guess. That's why the Renoir appeals to me - for all the reason's Todd initially outlined. There is such a story within the picture, there are the colours and the light, there are the characters depicted and the relationships between them, all of which you can gaze at and work out and make opinions on. Abstract art tends to be much more of a 'concept' to me than a likeable thing. It feels so tangential to the 'subject' and is much more a means for discussion than a intuative way of painting.

I guess it just seems to me that most abstract artists come around to abstract work once they have exhausted all other avenues of exploration.

And maybe that's my bad - I just haven't got there yet.
 
 
Jack Vincennes
08:09 / 26.03.04
I like to understand a little of what an artist was thinking when I look at a work

I think that I like abstract art because it's so difficult to do that ; reading Persephone say "When I look at that Renoir --waste not, want not!-- I'm basically subtracting the figures & being impressed by the color fields" made me think about how different that is from the way I see paintings. Seeing something as abstract as the Malevich forces me to look at it 'just' as an image, rather than trying to see every little detail that makes up the painting which tends to happen when I look at representative art. In the end, I might prefer looking at the painting that's full of detail, but I like the fact that abstract art forces me to look things which aren't part of a story within the painting.
 
 
Saveloy
13:49 / 26.03.04
Olulabelle:
"But with 2D abstract art, unless I am told the origins of the idea I find it almost impossible to align the end product with anything tangible; or that I can relate to.... [edit] ...A lot of abstract art relies on someone telling you the 'history' of the image, or the 'story' behind it, and I am not sure that's the right way to approach art. It feels elitist, like, "You will only understand this if you a/ have a degree in Art History, or b/ belong to the Museum trustee's.""


Vincennes:
"Seeing something as abstract as the Malevich forces me to look at it 'just' as an image"


I can sympathise with both views. Generally I much prefer to view paintings as concrete artefacts - things to be appreciated in their own right, with no references, concepts, background etc to get in the way (I'm the same with music, I prefer lyrics to be unintelligible). However, I don't feel completely comfortable doing this if I know or merely suspect that the artist did mean to represent something. This is why I was so relieved to read interviews with Francis Bacon in which he explained that he was working on gut feelings alone, and that his paintings were not consciously designed to be about anything, or even express anything specific. This is also the reason why I can't fully engage with the Malevich pictures - they are representative, even if it is abstract concepts or sensations ("infinite space") rather than visible, solid matter that they represent.

Olulabelle - would it make a difference if you knew that the artwork had no specific hidden meaning, or reference to something (if, say, Malevich's two squares were just that, and not meant to represent Madonna and Child)? Would you be happy to enjoy the aesthetic merits alone, or would you feel there was something missing?
 
 
Persephone
14:45 / 26.03.04
My experience of abstract art is really not that it's elitist or inaccessible. I went to the University of Illinois, which is practically like not having an education. Certainly I've had no art education. I actually think of abstract art as art that anyone can understand. "Anyone" being me, naturally. Which is to say that just because I understand --but understand is not the right word-- abstract art, everyone else is not necessarily having the same experience. And personally, I don't find figures to be especially accessible. I find them to be full of meanings that I don't understand at all. They're like the SATs; they're culturally loaded as a matter of fact. Like that Renoir. What am I supposed to know about that woman's dress? And the corset that she's apparently wearing underneath her dress? And the fact that she's apparently unescorted? Is that a big deal or not?

I went through this Joseph Campbell phase, you know? Now I'm mostly over Joseph Campbell, but there's this thing that has stuck with me over the years. To paraphrase, it's something like people always think that they're searching for the meaning of life, but really what they're searching for is an experience of being alive. I mean, I don't agree with that as a statement. Some people are searching for the meaning of life. But for me, that opened up this possibility of ...ugh, "interfacing" with life in a way that doesn't involve meaning. I think this is the appeal that abstract art has for me.

Which is not to say that abstract art doesn't have meaning, as lentil perfectly elucidates. Or that experience doesn't have meaning, for that matter...
 
 
lentil
18:09 / 27.03.04
Olulabelle, I completely understand your frustration, I feel something similar myself. The information about that Malevich was something I was told at high school, and I remember it seeming very arbitrary at the time. There really is no direct indication for a general viewer that Malevich had the Madonna and Child reference in mind when making that painting. Maybe with a few years of art school under my belt, and seeing the painting hung in the top corner of the room I would have been able to guess at it – “Why’s it hung like that? Hmmm…. Russian icons are hung like that, and it looks to be in the same proportions, Malevich was Russian…” – but even then I doubt it. I’m not prepared to say that this is entirely a bad thing though. One’s appreciation of any medium is enhanced by having an awareness of the history of that artform, but perhaps with a lot of modern visual art there’s a smaller amount of content left over once the aspects of the work that depend on references to previous works are removed. When I listen to a new hip hop album (say), because I’m familiar enough with the form to recognise paraphrases or samples from other records and the subtexts they may bring, I might get more from it than the person who’s listening to hip hop for the first time. But strip away all the ‘extra’ knowledge and you’re still left with a piece of music that people generally would feel quite qualified to offer an opinion on. This is probably less true of visual art than other forms.

Also, the idea of the work of art being embedded in a matrix of references and associations is a central feature of Modernism. This can have genuine benefits on the way we’re able to look at art. Clement Greenberg championed Abstract Expressionism in the sixties by placing it within a tradition of developing pictorial (as opposed to illusionistic) space in painting that echoed through centuries, from the Impressionists back to Titian. Persephone’s ability to subtract the figures from the Renoir and view it in terms of colour fields is derived from this type of criticism. It can be elitist though, and over-reliance on it did create a lot of hollow, superficially intellectual art during the last twenty years or so. There seems to have been a reaction against that kind of ‘coolness’ in the past few years though, with more playful, literary and pictorial work emerging.

I think the elitism issue depends on how familiar the audience is with the frames of reference. Painting has always relied on a large amount of assumed knowledge on the part of the viewer, but whereas the mythological and religious texts used in older work were embedded within the culture of the time, the debates that make up much of contemporary art are not common currency in the same way. We don’t mind that the Simpsons is ful of movie references because those references are the bread and butter of our shared culture.

I’ve gotten away from abstract painting but what I was responding to more was the feeling of having to depend on external knowledge to appreciate a painting. I like to think that you can pretty much take what you want from it at the end of the day – maybe it’ll be revealed that the whole Madonna and Child thing in that painting was invented by an overzealous critic, but I think it’s a neat theory and it relates to some of my favourite ideas, so I’ll keep it anyway – and that can include not worrying about meaning.
 
 
stepinrazor
07:27 / 31.03.04
Vincennes: Apex of Sexy Danger (prev. Vincennes) 12:39 / 17.03.04 posted:

About the Van Eyck painting -there's something about portraits like that which I find really appealing. It's the fact that there's so much to notice about them; olulabelle mentioned the dog, shoes and artist in the mirror, and none of them are things that could be picked up with a cursory glance. As far as I know, there's no obvious symbolism (in the sense that there was in the religious art of the time) but there's still the sense of a lot to be decoded -in that it's not clear where the figures are, or what their relationship to each other, or the painter, is like.

I don't even know what this means.
Is this a declarative me-too paragraph or is it short-hand for "I never took an art class in my life and wouldn't know where to begin to look for symbolism in a painting like this."

I'll break it down for you though, because you should speak with authority about art if you're going to speak of it at all:
The Arnolfini Marriage is one of the most famous paintings using symbols that it's on the Advanced Placement Art Test every year.


in that it's not clear where the figures are
Hey, there's a bed. They're in a bedroom.

or what their relationship to each other,
Hey, it's called The Arnolfini Marriage. Man & Wife.

or the painter
van Eyck signed the painting in big letters as an inscription on the wall. This painting is a legal document, something witnessed by Jan van Eyck and that other guy in the mirror portrait. But is it a wedding? Recent research says it's not; that the Arnolfinis were married in 1447. van Eyck was dead 6 years by then.

The couple's joined hands, a single lit candle in the chandelier, the fruit, the dog, the bare feet - all symbols of the sacred nature of the painting and tenet of fidelity.. and possibly fertility.

Time to buy a new book.
I'm not saying this book will resolve your observation skills but miracles do happen.
 
 
Ethan Hawke
12:06 / 31.03.04
Olulabelle said :A lot of abstract art relies on someone telling you the 'history' of the image, or the 'story' behind it, and I am not sure that's the right way to approach art.

Stepinrazor said:The Arnolfini Marriage is one of the most famous paintings using symbols that it's on the Advanced Placement Art Test every year.

and slightly condescendingly:

Time to buy a new book.

It's clear that a lot of the intended meaning of the van Eyck *is* lost on the "uneducated" viewer, just as the intended meaning of the Malevich(es) could be lost on one who views abstract art as wholly relying on "concepts." But for some reason, (and Persephone may be the exception here) people are more inclined to respond positively to the figurative work of van Eyck than the abstract work of Malevich, when both are (IMHO) equally inaccessible to someone who hasn't been told about them (or, someone who hasn't been equipped with the interpretive skills to understand them).

While the concepts behind both paintings are important to understanding the artist, I would argue that in neither case are they essential - these are still both brilliant paintings, regardless of whether or not you understand (and then, on from understanding, accept) the concepts behind them. Is it ridiculous to argue that Black Square and Red Sqaure would be a lesser painting if we moved the red square down 5 centimeters, or made it chrome green? Is it ridiculous to argue that adding a third, overt figure into the van Eyck (as a witness or minister or whatever) would have turned it into a jumbled mess?

What I'm trying to say is that there are arrangements of shapes in space, and arrangments of colors and forms, that are more pleasing than others, and regardless of whether a painter's chosen idiom is figurative or abstract, in order to be a painter of genius (in order for the work to be that elusive "museum-quality") ze must (either consciously or unconsciously) choose to make THAT painting, rather than another one. That's what makes a painting a "painting," rather than just some fool's art. The concept is secondary to form.
 
 
Olulabelle
20:41 / 31.03.04
[Stroppy off topic comment]

Stepinrazor:

One of my conditions of starting this thread was that a few lines were written about why each image was chosen. NOT the full and concise history, meaning and implications on art of each picture. One of the reasons for this was that hopefully people wouldn't be made to feel stupid about their (perceived) lack of knowledge on the subject of either Art History or painting itself.

Therefore, making snide remarks about people's alleged lack of knowledge is a/not cricket and b/totally assumptive.

Suppose, just suppose I actually knew a bit more about the Van Eyck than I let on but chose not to say so. Because if I had said, "This picture is about this and it means this, it's set here because of this, and see this over here in the corner, well it symbolises that and is representative of this." then where the hell would the conversation have gone? What would anyone have had left to say? "Well I like it." "Well, I don't." Here endeth the discussion about painting. I just pointed out a few basic things so people could start talking.

I feel irrationally cross now.

Please, lets not try and make people feel thick just to make ourselves feel more intelligent.

[End stroppy off topic comment]
 
 
Tryphena Absent
11:59 / 01.04.04
I had this whole message about getting the thread back on track and it was written in a very moderatorly tone and then I thought to myself, Anna, you nit, just put a picture up so...

Mark Rothko, Red on Maroon, 1959, Oil on Canvas, 2667 x 2388, Tate Modern



I'm a Rothko addict, I freely admit it. When I feel miserable I go to the Rothko room in the Tate and it makes me feel very neutral and nerveless. They're housed in a very dim light and it all feels reverent, as if you're in a room with someone dying and you feel how inevitable the whole process is. So I go there when I need to remember that we all die, not to wallow in it but rather to feel reality slap me in the face. The paintings are big and the room houses a series but this is my absolute favourite. The background feels like fairy dust because it shimmers and the square is something else entirely, the everyday world popped on to the dust. I love abstract art because you can write your own feeling over the top of it but I love Rothko because I think the emotion is already there in his work and you really don't have to dig to find it.
 
 
Persephone
12:55 / 01.04.04
In a sense, you are in a room with something dying --those paintings are dying, and the whole process is inevitable. I don't know how that color stays on the canvas at all. I've been experimenting with thinning colors in turpentine (as Rothko supposedly did) & everything I've done dries like powder & you can blow it right off. Maybe he didn't care. He was a depressive, after all.

Well, I love Rothko. I like the Rothkos more than the Maleviches, partly because they're bigger. I like being inside art, which is why I'm so freaking excited about Christo wrapping Central Park. Also with Malevich, you still have to read the shapes & with Rothko, you don't. I don't. A Rothko gives me more than a huge canvas painted solidly black --or solidly celadon, which I saw last year and which was supposed to represent the entire history of Korean art. Maybe because solid colors = surfaces. I like the brushstrokes in the Maleviches, you know? Keeps them from being too solid.
 
 
Goodness Gracious Meme
14:38 / 01.04.04
Ok, I'm going to don my moderator hat, briefly.

Stepinrazor: that's your opinion, thank you for expressing it. Is it neccessary to be quite so patronising/inflammatory with it? There's something interesting buried under yr tone, but this thread is for people picking work they enjoy and discussing/sharing it.

I've started a new thread on whether/how much previous knowledge of a work/artist is neccessary. As it's something I'm very interested. So if we could leave this as a thread where people post and discuss work, and shift other conversations over there, that'd be good.
 
 
Goodness Gracious Meme
14:49 / 01.04.04
Moi aussi, j'adore Rothko.

It has, in my cae, I think alot to do with seeing them at a relatively young age. The Ab Exps were the first painters I really got into, and a school trip to the Tate will stick in my memory for ever. The Rothko room at the Tate was and is one of the best bits of curating of this kind of work I've ever seen.

It felt/feels separate to the rest of the gallery, like stepping into space. The paintings flood my consciousness, and I'm transported somewhere other.

It's the paint, too, which you can't see on reproduction, the heaviness of the paint, which somehow manages for me at least to transmit monolithic strength and weightlessness at the same time.
 
 
Mourne Kransky
20:10 / 01.04.04
Just a few things about The Arnolfini Portrait, because I too love it. However, I think I love it because it's such a grim slice of miserable late mediaeval life. Apparently there was a tradition of painting the wife in late pregnancy because the likelihood of her dying in childbirth was so high. I am also aware that she looks young and much prettier than the older, rather Vulcan and po-faced husband.

We bought a chandelier and a mirror for the Edinburgh flat in days of yore because they reminded me of that painting. Yes, the little dog, so full of life and exuberance, in the household of that prissy looking chap, is a great touch. Barely noticed yet appealing for attention and love. Makes you wonder how the kid would fare when it came, in the high days of the Dutch hegemony of world trade.

There's more but Ganesh has just got home and I must pay my respects to my own scrawny, masterful partner. Will come back and opine about Rothko. Lovely, bottomless Rothko.
 
 
Persephone
20:38 / 01.04.04
Hey plums, do you still have that pic of The Gandolfini Portrait?
 
 
Olulabelle
22:22 / 10.04.05
Bump:

I love all these new threads about art but instead of having lots of threads, we do have a painting one here which took off for a little while. Maybe we can resurrect it?
 
 
Tryphena Absent
23:01 / 10.04.05
The new threads are specifically for annotating the paintings. Hopefully some of you will take a look at them and we can get in depth about them in a way that one thread doesn't necessarily allow.
 
 
Olulabelle
23:16 / 10.04.05
Oh, OK. That's probably a good idea.
 
 
jeed
08:21 / 11.04.05
Yves Klein
IKB 79 1959
Paint on canvas on wood
1397 x 1197 x 32 mm
relief





Ok, I love Klein's work, especially the large works you can stand in front of and almost float into. I remember the first time i saw one, and I found them to hit my spiritual buttons in a very direct way. I read a bit about him, and it wasn't much of a surprise to find out he was into meditation and a few related things. Trouble is, I find it remarkably hard to explain to people just why i like his stuff so much, "it's just blue though isn't it? Dulux could do that", 'yeh, but...er...it's transporting...', "no, it's blue".

Help me out please! Or tell me why you think he's a sham.
 
 
Tryphena Absent
12:06 / 11.04.05
Am I wrong in presuming that Klein created that cobalt blue shade?

I know what you mean about it, it really sinks into you.
 
 
Jack Vincennes
12:14 / 11.04.05
Not wrong at all -he created it and, I believe, copyrighted it. I also love this one, but really can't explain why -I think it's something about the scale of it when you see it in the gallery (as toast mentioned) -the blue is so intense it's difficult not to (want to) look at it.
 
 
jeed
12:21 / 11.04.05
Yeh, he called it IKB (international klein blue) i think. As I understand it normally paint's suspended in a solvent that evaporates, but IKB was suspended in a waxy resin, so it doesn't dull the pigment, and it just seems deeper than anything else.

Apparently he saw the blue as the 'world beyond the material', the place he went when he was meditating, fasting, or doing martial arts. He was all tied up with Rosicrucianism as well, far as I remember.

There's not many paintings i'd like to own, but i'd lose a foot to be able to be around one of these every day.
 
 
Tryphena Absent
13:37 / 11.04.05
The first Klein exhibition I remember going to was at the Hayward gallery, I think I was in my early teens and I remember being emotionally suspended between 'what the hell is the point of this' and 'wow, there's really something here'. I just couldn't work out what was there. In retrospect I realise that I didn't quite have the ability to reason through the questions in order to confront the fact that I was looking at pure colour, which is what Yves Klein does, he presents you with something so simple that it makes you wonder.
 
  

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