In Love … With Myself

Online profiles are essentially shameless self-promotion – things you like, things you do, endless photos of yourself, etc. However, I find when my skinny friends post too many photos of themselves in swimsuits, or newly-engaged friends post endless photos of rings and partners, and my married friends post hundreds of photos of their new babies, I start to feel badly about myself. That’s not to say that I’m not doing cool things or that I want children (Any. Time. Soon.), but sites like Facebook have opened many doors to jealousy, self-loathing, and endless comparison of ourselves to others. Stop it!

 

Egon Schiele, Self-Portrait, 1910.
Gouache, watercolour, and black pencil, 44.3 x 30.6 cm.
Leopold Museum, Vienna.

 

You know who would have been shamelessly good at Facebooking and making his peers feel like underachieving sloths? Egon Schiele. He started drawing at a very young and tender age, and while progressing in style and skill throughout the years, he maintained his edgy, in-your-face view of society and the human body. Review the bold words. Anyone come to mind? Honey Boo Boo, right?! Based on the lives of so many other ‘child stars’ – who, mind you, were on written shows, not facing the nearly frightening, redneck reality of Macon, Georgia – how can we ever expect ‘normalcy’ for that poor girl?

 

Egon Schiele, Self-Portrait with Chinese Lantern Plant, 1912.
Oil and gouache on wood, 32.2 x 39.8 cm.
Leopold Museum, Vienna.

 

Fortunately, I suppose, depending on how you feel about overpopulation, the world is much better equipped to deal with plagues, flues, and cholera, and so we’re less likely to lose talented artists in their prime because of illness. I could argue that there are some “artists” that we could bear to mourn, but would likely do better to keep such opinions to myself. (I know you thought of someone!) We’ll just have to stick out this reality television and self-promotional social networking phenomenon until they blow over. Until then, read a book or go to a museum. Give Facebook a rest because, frankly, you’re annoying me.

 

Egon Schiele, Self-Portrait with Arms Pulled Back, 1915.
Charcoal and pastel, 44 x 32 cm.
E.W. Kornfeld Collection.

 

Schiele would have had an impossibly difficult time posting all of his crude and vulgar self-portraits on Facebook, and his friends would have been better off for it, despite their raw beauty and allure. See the way he transformed his work throughout his short life at The Metamorphoses of Egon Schiele, on permanent exhibition at the Leopold Museum, Vienna. Pick up this heart-wrenchingly illustrated book, Schiele by Jeanette Zwingenberger, for a closer look.

 

-Le Lorrain Andrews

“Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, And prophesyingwith accents terrible Of dire combustion and confused events”- WilliamShakespeare (Macbeth, 2.3)

Ok, let’s talk about the bizarre.

Not the bizarre fascination so many people seem to have with reality shows... TOWIE, My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding anyone?  Nor am I talking about the bizarre and scary world which has created the ‘Honey Boo Boo’ phenomenon.  Even the Blobfish and the Aye-Aye lose their bizarreness factor when compared to what I’m going to be talking about! (You may want to Google Blobfish and Aye-Aye, just so you get an idea how bizarre this is going to get...)

Ok, I think I’ve created enough suspense.  Today folks, allow me to introduce you to Hieronymus Bosch: artist extraordinaire, and possessor of one heck of an active imagination!  (Not to be confused with the fictive character of the same name featured in the Michael Connelly books!)

For those of you who may not be familiar with any of Bosch’s work, he created all kinds of mythological and mutant species within his artwork.  Some may be recognisable to us from myth and legend, whereas others are entirely figments of his astonishing imagination.  Many people have suggested, over the years, that Bosch was one of a series of artists suffering from hallucinations (attributed to ergot poisoning – caused by mould in grain), and so this was the source of his extraordinary characters.  Maybe, maybe not. The jury’s out.  But, take a look for yourselves:


The Last Judgement, triptych, c. 1450-1516

In one of Bosch’s works, The Last Judgement, we see a triptych of creation – God casting out the rebel angels, Eve being created from Adam’s rib, the serpent (in the shape of a woman...I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Bosch’s view was that Lilith was the serpent) giving the apple, the angel casting the unfortunate couple from the garden.   Then we have the Last Judgement.  Earth is rife with torments as humanity is shown with all of its sinful nature.  Jesus is above this, judging the souls.  Finally, on the right-hand side is Bosch’s interpretation of hell, where the wicked souls are punished and demons run rampant with giant fish and what appears to be different types of bird creations...I can see aspects of pelicans and penguins in there, and they happen to be wearing green coats.

Now that’s all well and good, but I’ve seen some of this ‘demons and hell’ creativeness before, in other forms.  What is new to me is the ‘Earth’ panel.  Virtually indistinguishable from the ‘Hell’ scenario, the colours and landscape blend together seamlessly.  And then you look closer.  To look at this canvas in person, try and get hold of a magnifying glass! On the computer, make good use of your ‘zoom’!

Perplexing figures of heads on feet, a turbaned head of a man attached to what looks like two spiked shields with a tail and clawed feet (on the top of the roof).


Close-up detail, middle panel, The Last Judgement

Now look to the bottom right-hand corner.  Is that a giant Swiss Army knife?  That’s what it looks like to me! Follow that line to the left, and you’ll come across the mutation of a hatching egg (on legs) with an arrow piercing it.  In between the egg and the Swiss Army knife is what appears to be a plague doctor (with a stork mask as was common in the period of the Black Death).

If this isn’t confusing enough, see if you can spot the other two eggs in this painting.  By their size, in proportion to the rest of the figures, they appear to be ostrich eggs, and are right next to what seems to be a Turkish man, complete with robes and turban.  What makes this especially interesting is that this figure seems to be the only one in the ‘Earth’ panel who is clothed (besides the demons), and then you look closer and see that this may not actually be a human after all – the bird claws acting as his feet give him away.

So, what is your verdict?  Was Bosch just another artist tripping on mouldy grain, or did he actually have a genius for imagining the bizarre and outlandish that few could hope to match (possibly with the exception of Tim Burton!)?

 

Undoubtedly one of the more inventive takes on dystopia that I’ve seen for quite some time, I would highly recommend anyone interested in investigating the fantastical to explore the ‘Fables of Flemish Landscapes, Bosch, Brueghel, Bles, Bril’ exhibition being held at the Palais des Beaux Arts  de Lille from 7^th October 2012 until the 14^th January 2013.  Myths and legends spring from the canvas in this remarkable collection of paintings, reality is exchanged for artistic license, and paradise and hell are created out of the fantasy one unexpectedly finds in the landscape genre.  If you want to brush up on your Bosch before visiting the exhibition, check out our e-book ‘Bosch’ by Virginia Pitts Rembert.  Alternatively, explore the full extent of dystopia in ‘Apocalypse’ by Camille Flammarion.

Fifteen Minutes of Fame

Andy Warhol is easily one of the most interesting people to have ever lived. I say this having known next to nothing about him other than his over-exposed, colourful reproductions of 1960s-1980s popular culture, all of which I found excessive, superficial, and ridiculous, up until two hours ago.

 


Screened in accordance with Warhol’s long-time lunchtime devotion to the brand.
Andy Warhol, Campbell’s Soup Can (Turkey Noodle), 1962.
Silkscreen ink on canvas, 51 x 40.6 cm.
Sonnabend collection.

 

 

But wasn’t that essentially his intention, to explore popular culture? Spending most of his time at home as a young child and teenager, Warhol listened to the radio (and the adverts) and collected photos of film stars; he was greatly influenced by the growing popular culture of the 1950s. Starting his career as a commercial illustrator should come as no surprise to anyone, nor should the fact that, unlike other artists, he basked in the spotlight of fame that came from the success of his commercial art.

 


Screened for his appreciation of the wide-spread appeal of Coca-Cola – for the rich as well as the poor!
Andy Warhol, Green Coca-Cola Bottles, 1962.
Synthetic polymer, silkscreen ink, and graphite on canvas, 209.2 × 144.8 cm.
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York.

 

Endlessly and un-sarcastically praising the plasticity of Hollywood, I’m convinced all Warhol wanted was his “fifteen minutes of fame” (did you know he coined that?). Little could he have ever imagined we’d still be fawning over his bright colours, cow motifs, and his Pope of Pop-(Art)dom over twenty years after his death. Though I think he’d be less impressed with the reality of what “fifteen minutes of fame” has afforded us by way of reality television (Jersey Shore and Honey Boo Boo, anyone?).

What are you waiting for? Get over to the Met now through year’s end to see Sixty Artists, Fifty Years and relish in the expansion of Pop Art over the years. Then, get these ebooks for a little at-home inspiration: Warhol by Eric Shanes and Warhol by Gerry Souter.

 

-Le Lorrain Andrews