Nude Life; An Autobiography in Life Drawings

 

The Art of Lucian Freud, a personal view by Paul Gatenby

I’ll start with an opinion expressed as if it were a fact: ‘All great art is humane’

No doubt we could find exceptions, but I believe that on the whole, this is true. 

The Sistine Chapel, for example, may depict a super-human world but if we look at the exchange of glances between the newly created Adam and the yet to be created Eve still under God’s protective arm, we see the beginnings of an all too human relationship.  Or the self-portraits of Rembrandt; the late paintings are often described as portraits of the artist facing death; I prefer to think of them as the artist facing life.  He looks himself in the eye, and looks into his soul; and ours too.  Van Gogh’s potato eaters may not have much but at least they’re sharing it. 

There are admirable qualities in Freud’s work, not least the sheer determination to stick with figuration for so long, especially during times when many would have dismissed it as archaic.  The scale of the work and the physical handling of paint are impressive in themselves, but for me the paintings usually lack humanity.

Let’s begin with poses.  His models are frequently in postures which could have been made by flinging a rag doll in a corner and having the model copy it.  Then we, the viewers, are left to look down at them, literally and metaphorically.  Doubtless we’ll be told that this is the artist’s hard-headed recognition of the frailty of the flesh and yes, human flesh is frail which brings us to the second point.    

Many artists have depicted the frailty of the flesh, one need only think of the multifarious crucifixions and martyrdoms, but humane artists imbue their subjects with an inner life and it is this inner life which allows us to empathise.  

There is certainly something unflinching about, say, the martyrdom paintings by Ribera and yet we are drawn into them; there is real and believable psychology at work.  Ribera usually depicts the point where the torture is about to begin - the flesh is still intact and vital. Yet we look at both the executioner and victim and sense that the knowledge of what is to come has passed between them; check out his 'Martyrdom of St Bartholemew' it is truly terrifying because we can feel both abused and abuser as human beings, we can imagine what they’re thinking, we can identify with both and thus we feel the sense of tragedy.

Freuds figures with their awkward poses, cold flesh, their staring at the floor or into space, posed in an empty or semi-derelict room; deny and frustrate any sense of an inner life.  They rarely make eye contact with the viewer, when in groups they seem oblivious to each other.  A treatment of the human condition which speaks not so much of hard headedness as contempt.