Francis Bacon

David Sylvester - The Unique Art Critic by Geoff Harrison

It’s been argued that there is a shortage of good art writers in this world today.  It’s not clear why this is the case – one suggestion being the proliferation of rubbish that masquerades as contemporary art.  Thus the traditional hierarchies of quality upon which art is judged have broken down, and no one is sure exactly what constitutes “good” art these days.  But in the not so distant past, there were some notable art writers/historians.  Robert Rosenblum comes to mind, another is David Sylvester.

Sylvester (1924 – 2001) was a complex personality whose involvement in art was multifaceted, embracing writing, curating, collecting and advising.  He’s been described as the golden lion of English art writing and one of the finest writers on art in the second half of the 20th century.

Giacometti's portrait of Sylvester from 1960

Sylvester made a point of really getting to know the artist whom he was critiquing, as well as their art. He was noted for his clarity of expression and he championed the art of Picasso, Matisse, Magritte, Giacometti, Henry Moore and Francis Bacon.  He was also skilled at making exhibitions, his first featuring the work of Moore.

During the 1950’s and 1960’s he wrote about football and cricket for the Observer, ran a cricket team called the Eclectics and reviewed films.  He was an avid collector of art from all around the world and his collection was constantly evolving. 

Sylvester allowed his attitudes to certain artists to evolve over time.  For many years he was hostile to the work of Picasso, but 40 years later he felt nearer to "accepting [Picasso's] genius, rather than resenting it".  His views on Matisse and Picasso are enlightening to say the least; "It is not even the question of Picasso versus Matisse," he wrote, "for even at those times when Matisse seems the greater, Picasso himself is still the question, probably because Matisse is a great artist in the same sort of way as many great artists of the past, whereas Picasso is a kind of artist who could not have existed before this century, since his art is a celebration of this century's introduction of a totally promiscuous eclecticism into the practice of art.”

Sylvester lacked any formal training in art but did practise painting for a while, before deciding in his late teens that he might be better at writing about art than making it. 

Sylvester with Francis Bacon

Of all the artists within his field of expertise, Francis Bacon was the one that Sylvester was most closely associated with as both champion and major critic.  Apparently, Bacon fell into the category of “artists for whom personal authenticity and a struggle to come to terms with reality were of utmost concern” to Sylvester.

Looking at Sylvester’s interview with Bacon from 1966, I’m struck by the easy, yet thoughtful conversational style he adopted.  There is also a psychologically penetrating aspect to his questioning, in particular in relation to Bacon’s portraits.  Sylvester asks Bacon to comment on the perception that much of his work is horrific.  Bacon responds that it’s been his objective to paint an image as directly and ‘rawly’ as possible and this directness may be interpreted as horrific.

Bacon’s portrait of former lover George Dyer

He asks Bacon if he has ever had a model sitting for him who he has painted many times from memory and if so, what has happened.  Bacon answers yes, and that the experience inhibits him (if he likes them) due to his propensity to carry out some injury to them on the canvas.  He’d rather do it in private than to do it before them.  Sylvester asks Bacon why he considers his distortions injuries and the response is that this is the way the viewing public interprets them.  “Don’t you think those interpretations are right?” asks Sylvester.  “Possibly” is the response. 

Sylvester asks Bacon if his mark marking is both a caress and a blow, an assault on the model, that is; his mark making represents contradictory feelings for the model.  Bacon quotes Oscar Wilde – “you kill the thing you love.”  He also states that many of his subjects are troubled souls.

It’s fascinating watching Sylvester roaming around Bacon’s shambolic studio, discussing his source material.  He expresses amazement when Bacon tells him he never visited Velazquez’ portrait of Pope Innocent X in Rome despite spending 2 months there.  Bacon responds by saying he didn’t want to see the original after what he had done to it.

Bacon, Study After Velazquez Portrait of Pope Innocent X, 1953

“I want to produce a very ordered image, but I want it to come about by chance”.  Sylvester argues that this is a matter of reconciling opposites.  “One wants to be as factual as possible and yet at the same time as deeply suggestive, or deeply unlocking of areas of sensation other than the simple illustration of the object that you set out to do – isn’t that what all art is about?” asks Bacon.

In discussing Rembrandt’s 1659 self-portrait, Bacon makes reference to the ‘brutal’ image making of American abstract expressionists such as Jackson Pollock which he believes had all been done before by Rembrandt, such as his self-portrait which is anti-illustrational.  However, Rembrandt’s work had “the additional aspect of recording a fact – that is, his appearance which makes Rembrandt’s work much more profound and exciting because it is much more difficult.”

Rembrandt self portrait, 1659

It really is a wonderful interview and only a critic who knew his subject as profoundly as Sylvester knew Bacon could have pulled it off.  It inspired actor Jeremy Irons to publish a video in which he brings to life excerpts of the interview.  You’ll find the video on Iron’s website.

References;

The Guardian

Artcritical.com

Francis Bacon – Fragments of a Portrait, interview with David Sylvester

To The Tortured Artist.....Get Over It by Geoff Harrison

The recently departed author/actor Bob Ellis once claimed that artistic talent is not something you are born with, it's grafted onto you by a wound.  As much as I admired Ellis, in this instance I believe he was talking bollocks. 

And why?  Because many people who have suffered injustices (either perceived or actual) respond by inflicting harm on others rather than resorting to art.  The question as to why different people respond in different ways to adverse circumstances is something I wouldn't even contemplate answering.  All I know is that if I'm feeling down about aspects of my past, the last thing I feel like doing is picking up the paint brush.  To me it's logically impossible.

Big magic.jpg

In her book "Big Magic", author Elizabeth Gilbert has some interesting thoughts on the topic of the tortured artist.  Gilbert argues that we must love our art and our art must love us.  "Nature provides the seed, man provides the garden, each is grateful for the other's help."

I have no doubt that some remarkable art has been the product of delving into the depths, but I doubt if the artist was wallowing in it at the time.  To me it's like looking back inside a tunnel from the outside, "yes, it was like that but it's not like that now".  To  me, the work of the tortured artist relies on past issues never being resolved, which begs a question.  What would happen to the art practice if he/she was suddenly at peace?

Gilbert quotes Francis Bacon "The feelings of desperation and unhappiness are more useful to an artist than feelings of contentment, because desperation and unhappiness stretch  your whole sensibility".   That may be the case but I bet Bacon wasn't feeling desperate whilst he painted.  Mark Rothko apparently wanted people to break down and cry in front of his paintings.  Then when he became ill and couldn't work any longer, he committed suicide. 

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The price some artists pay for their pain!  Gilbert believes that many young artists today are told that if they want to become creative, they must open up a vein and bleed.  "Trusting in nothing but suffering is a dangerous path.  Suffering has a reputation for killing off artists.  But even when it doesn't kill them, an addiction to pain can sometimes throw artists into such severe mental disorder that they stop working at all."

I particularly like this comment of hers; "I believe our creativity grows like sidewalk weeds out of the cracks between our pathologies - not from the pathologies themselves.  But many people believe it's the other way around."  So I come back to an earlier comment - love who you are and what you do.