Exhibition Reviews - Louvre & Fitzwilliam Museum

During the summer, I visited some exhibitions at art museums and have written short reviews of my two favourites.

A friend and I visited Paris in August and spent the most part of a day in the Louvre, exploring the halls and observing the pieces. It was not an exhibition in particular that captured my interest, but an arrangement of pieces in a particular room. In the Denon wing of the gallery, beside the twin staircase to the cafe, there's a hall that houses Delacroix's 'Liberty Leading the People' (1830) and Gericault's 'Raft of The Medusa' (1818-1819) among others. I had previously written about these pieces for an essay and so I had it in mind to see them, expecting to prefer Delacroix's painting, but the magnitude of Gericault's painting coupled with the chiaroscuro made it difficult to look at anything else. The pyramid structure of the piece has amazing presence in person, and this seems all the more fitting to Gericault's aims – it was a politically-charged piece, highly controversial at its time of creation, and its size contributes to the importance of its message. Controversiality is something I'm attracted to in artwork and I enjoy creating things with a political undercurrent, so Gericault's representation of stranded men and corpses engages me. Gericault's treatment of figures in various poses and with strong lighting also appeals, as this is something I'm trying to improve in my own work - I want to expand my variation of poses when drawing figures. Whilst Delacroix's 'Liberty Leading the People' also has a powerful presence on the wall, when you are close to the piece it becomes very easy to see where the paint has been applied economically, and the illusionist texture is less convincing. You can tell that Delacroix has not spent as long painting his piece as Gericault has, as Delacroix's piece was a spontaneous, passionate reaction to his social climate. Gericault's painting has cracks in the oil-paint that are beautiful to look at up close, and there is a sickly greenish hue to the skin of the figures that is truly haunting. When you compare 'Raft of the Medusa' to Gericault's other paintings in the Denon wing, there is something about this painting in particular that feels inspired. To give an indication of the power the paintings held in that hall, the Louvre ran Nintendo DS audio tours of each wing and popular paintings, and the story partnering Gericault's work made me incredibly emotional despite already knowing the facts. The genre of documentary/political art in general is a huge source of inspiration for me as it concerns the struggles of real people, and work like Gericault's touches me easily. I enjoyed the entire Denon wing, whereas more historical artwork such as ancient Egyptian artefacts, medieval crypts and Greek sculpture eventually became exhausting to look at because of the sheer size of the wings and the general similarity of all the pieces. 

'Raft of The Medusa', Gericault, Oil on Canvas, 1818-19

'Liberty Leading The People', Delacroix, Oil on Canvas, 1830

Later that month I visited the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge in order to gain some more inspiration, and came across a Turner exhibition. I appreciated the high quality of the small paintings, and the non-illusionist texture on some of the landscapes worked beautifully with the naturalistic colours, but the subject of landscapes did not interest me as much as some of the other pieces did. My own work is often small, and people are quick to criticise small paintings, equating size with talent, so it was reassuring to my own tastes to see Turner's small and detailed paintings you could lose yourself in. However, I do wish to experiment with the size of my work, pushing the boundaries of what I can achieve by making larger, and maybe even smaller, pieces. The Victorian era pieces in the Fitzwilliam Museum were what interested me the most, particularly the museum's architecture and several pieces of furniture. Two cabinets from this time period were my favourite articles, with the colour of the dark wood and ageing metal accents looking beautiful in a grayscale camera filter. The Victorian era in itself interests me, and Victorian photography and artwork is something I wish to explore further in my artwork. The museum as a whole had a different feel to it than others I've been in, such as big London galleries or the Louvre, whereby the rooms were smaller and the pieces more cobbled together in their organisation. There was a juxtaposition of time periods, styles and materials that made the building unique to explore. A small room containing black and white sketches, some half-finished, by artists such as William Blake, was also a favourite of mine. The room held etchings and drawings, and I loved seeing how bracelet shading and cross-hatching can be used. There was a haunting feel to these small drawings and etchings that I feel cohered with the nostalgic Victorian building. 

One of my favourite cabinets at the museum

Greyscale shot of the architecture of the windows

'Exploring The Unseen' - Artist Research

 In our three-dimensional projects, we have been investigating how aspects of the unseen are represented in art. This idea is a difficult one to approach because what is considered 'unseen' is relative to the person whose viewpoint we are observing from; for example, the interior of my room is unseen to others when the door is locked but not to me, and vice versa. Furthermore, when it comes to exploring how the unseen is presented in art, each person will approach the topic from their own distinct viewpoint.

When considering the unseen, I was personally inspired by the artwork of politically motivated gay artist, writer and filmmaker David Wojnarowicz, whose most popular works were created in the 1980's and early 90's. Wojnarowicz has a distinctive way of combining text with photographic images, and also producing photo-collages and surreal paintings. His work covers such a breadth of artistic mediums of expression that it immediately interested me, in particular his Sex series, photographs, and also his paintings, which are engaging due to the slightly clumsy and simplistic representations of people and objects. His series of photographs entitled 'Arthur Rimbaud in New York' offer a portrait of the life of young gay men in New York at the time, and Wojnarowicz is keen to portray the lesser known and unglamorous sub-cultures of the city. Wojnarowicz uses a mask of the young 19^th Century poet Arthur Rimbaud to conceal the identity of the model in his photographs, and this is where the unseen comes into his work in the most literal sense. Arthur Rimbaud's poetry often commented on how he must make himself “a seer” in order to be a good poet, and there was a huge emphasis on observation of others, of the world around you, and that coheres with Wojnarowicz's project. Through the camera lens, we are seeing an archetypal symbol, almost a character, displaying how life was in New York in the 1970's for people like Wojnarowicz, in the same way that Rimbaud aspired to see the world as it truly was through his poetry.

Wojnarowicz seems to use what Arthur Rimbaud stood for, his ideas of romanticism and pain, as a point of juxtaposition and comparison, using this contrast to present how he views modern New York. 

Above: Two photographs from 'Arthur Rimbaud in New York' (1978-79)

 

However, the first piece of his that really got my attention is an untitled photograph of bandaged hands, overlaid with red text. Wojnarowicz created the piece when he had discovered he was infected with AIDS and did not have long left to live, and the text itself is partially a quote from his own book 'Memories That Smell Like Gasoline', that reads; “I am shouting my invisible words. I am getting so weary. I am growing tired, I am waving to you from here. I am crawling and looking for the aperture of complete and final emptiness. I am vibrating in isolation among you. I am signalling that the volume of all this is too high. I am waving. I am waving my hands. I am disappearing. I am disappearing but not fast enough.”

The words were the initial draw to his work for me, as the repetition of certain phrases and words seems to emulate his body slowing down, his life coming to a close, and at the same time there was such energy and desperation in the words. He is looking around at the world and feeling as if he does not quite fit in there, as if no one else is realising his level of pain. The shot of hands in bandages mimics exactly what the prose it attempting to do; to come to terms with his own mortality. But there is also a tension between the words and the photograph in that some of the text is very difficult to read – it is literally unseen in certain places. I initially thought this was a mistake, but I now believe that this is a deliberate move by Wojnarowicz to create a difficult, tense relationship between the image and the words - the observer is put into an uncomfortable position whilst they read about Wojnarowicz's own discomfort. It is a way of increasing empathy in the observer. 

Above: 'Untitled' (1992)

The reason I believe this relates to the unseen is because some ways of writing do not explicitly describe scenarios or places, and instead hint towards them, allowing the reader to imagine individual images and piece them together. There are spaces in the imagery where the writer is withholding information, where things are unseen. Similarly, in photography you do not obtain a continuity of images where everything is displayed in a linear way,  and you are instead being faced with snapshots that intimate certain thoughts or feelings. It is the gaps in the narrative and the things that are hidden or withheld in Wojnarowicz's art that I feel relate to the topic of the unseen.

'Towering' - Installation Project Drawings

Pencil, biro pen and acrylics

Inspiration sketches for a three-dimensional installation based on the word 'towering.' I was considering emotions such as intimidation and fear, how it felt to be towered over, for instance, and creating drawings based off of these emotions. The head discs have patterns inspired by tree bark and the cells making up trees, as they're towering organic figures that can block out light and house crows and ravens and other gothic creatures. Trees became our group focus for the installation.

I also featured a quote from 'The Dislocated Room', a poem by Richard Siken, because I found this part of the poem to be particularly frightening and gives the reader the feeling of being small and helpless.

'Privacy'

Rotring ink pen and acrylics

Pen sketch from direct observation. Brief was to select a word and create a study based on its meaning.

"Private: self-contained, secretive, isolated, the personal not the public."

Kai Gushiken - sketches

Pencil, pen and oils

A page of clothes sketches, colour palettes and small paintings for a game concept I'm working on. Kai Gushiken is a Second World War nurse who is sent to a 19th Century hospital in the country after receiving a wound to the leg on the front line that results in amputation. This is the start of research into various leg prosthetics for her character design, as well as some authentic Second World War nurse uniforms.

Pin-Up Drugs - 'Bloodbag'

Pencil, biro pen and oils

"She is a human blood receptacle, acting as a host for patients who require complete or partial blood transfusions. Blood doners are no longer necessary as the required red and white cells are given chemically-enhanced reproduction within her living body. Four chest ports are used routinely to siphon the required blood, but she will also undergo routine complete blood transfusions herself in order to effectively hold one doner's complete blood supply at a time without contamination. As a result, Bloodbag has suffered AIDS and other blood-related diseases several times, but proceeds to work accordingly. She became a Drug Mule after being discovered beaten and raped on a street near Shaftsbury Ave. Due to a volatile disposition, restrictive measures for Bloodbag are recommended." 

Postcards

Four postcard-sized paintings around the theme of reflection and illusion. Left up and bottom are complete and titled, right up and bottom are almost at the completed stage. I wanted to explore relationships with the self via technology and mirrors. Created using pencils, biro pen, oils and gouache. 

Small pieces of nature

Drug Pin-Ups - 'Doctor Prozac'

 

'He is an experienced surgeon who has worked through both the First and Second World Wars. He suffers from war neuralgia picked up second-hand from his patients, and he is haunted by the deceased. He was not good at his job, as hard as he tried. His nervous, pedantic disposition led to many losses of life as his clinical neurosis made his hands shake too hard to carry out surgery properly. He told no-one that he was suffering. He volunteered to become a Drug Mule in the hope that it would allow him to help others, but instead his body began to mutate from the Prozac he was flooding with. As a result, his muscle tissue rends itself apart.'

Pin-Up Drugs - 'Lady Morphine'

Full colour with oils

Pencil and pen W.I.P photograph

'She is a natural painkiller. She has been hurt many times before and so can't stand to see others in pain - so high are her levels of empathy and compassion that her body has re-wired itself to secrete an antidote to physical pain. It has become her blood. She uses six ports to siphon her blood for the use of others, and stores it. But the painkiller blood detaches her from reality. She feels as if she floats between one world and the next. She has to dispose of it so she can feel lucid, but as she does so her body is put through agony. Cuts and tears appear in her skin. She is a time-bomb; she is giving away her blood to help others even though it is slowly killing her.'

Brighton

In the gardens around the Pavilion.

View from the pier, overlooking the shore.

Refracted Light

Bruises

A pretty recent drawing about healing from an abusive relationship. The finished, painted one isn't in my possession right now because of A-level marking, but I miss having it.

I Wanted Something More Than Crows

W.I.P shots throughout painting process

Oils, pencil, biro. I've been obsessed with Victorian architecture, Baroque aesthetics and Sander Cohen from the original Bioshock game. I was thinking about how the Industrial Revolution changed society in the 19th Century, so contrasted old world colours with neon to represent augmenting nature. He's a mad scientist conducting experiments on crows.

Life Drawing - 20 minutes

Drawing tattoos and peircings isn't something I've done in life drawing before, but I loved it.
Her face was also gorgeous to draw.