The Tragic Artist
Jeanne Hebuterne, 1919Today is the anniversary of the birthdate of one of my favourite artists of the twentieth century: Amadeo Modigliani. He is known for the elegant and elongated forms he created as a sculptor and painter. He was influenced by African sculpture, the figurative paintings of the Renaissance, and then by Henri-Toulouse Lautrec and Paul Cézanne, but his own style is unique.
Kneeling Caryatid
Nude Bust, 1915Constantly sketching, loving life drawing, he made as mny as a hundred drawings in a day. Yet he was his own hardest taskmaster and harshest critic, and many of these are gone, thrown out by himself – dismissed as ‘childish baubles, done when he was a dirty bourgeois’, lost during removals in his frequent changes of address, or given away to girlfriends and subsequently lost.
Head of a Woman (reproduction)Modigliani was born in 1884, and died in Paris aged just 35, in 1920. Suffering from TB, he became addicted to the drugs and drink he used to palliate the pain of his illness, which was further exacerbated by overwork and poverty. He lived wildly and to excess, and in a bohemian era crammed with extraordinary talent and lives lived hedonistically, became the epitome of the tragic artist, starving in his attic. But his beautiful work lives on.
Scroll through all his paintings here. Images from Wikipaintings.
Click here for a fashion shoot by British Vogue and Sarah Moon, inspired by Modigliani’s paintings.
Teresa, (ink) 1915
Big Red Buste (Leopold II), 1913
Caryatid, 1911
Madame Georges van Muyden, 1917
Portrait of Beatrice Hastings, 1916
Head of a Girl, c 1918
Portrait of Jeanne Hebuterne, 1918
Nude, 1917
The Girl in the Chair
The Girl in the Chair, 2012This is The Girl in the Chair, a little oil pastel drawing I whipped up one day in a whimsical mood. There’s no secret philosophy or meaning behind it – sometimes it’s just nice to curl up in an armchair before the fire and dream. That is all.
My Mexican Friend
De las Manos, Yunuen Pérez and Sissy M. Reyes, 2012During the past month I designed a twelve-page catalogue for an exhibition my friend Yunuen Pérez and her creative partner Sissy M. Reyes are launching in May. What a delight it was to work with such gorgeous and colourful imagery, and with clients who were decisive, prompt to supply material and pleasant from beginning to end*!
But more importantly, the photographic exhibition is called Mex-tli, Mexican Goddesses, and reflects the pair’s respective artistic practices, with an emphasis on cross-cultural aesthetics and the power of the image.
Yunuen is a costume and production designer for theatre and multimedia, and Sissy a cinematographer and producer in a variety of independent and commercial film and media projects. A couple of years ago they decided they would combine their creative talents. They embarked on a venture exploring their experiences as Mexican immigrants in Australia, a journey that would combine two very different cultures and discover where similarity diverged and came together again.
Jaguar’s Roar, Yunuen Pérez and Sissy M. Reyes, 2012The pair focus on Mexican indigenous women: their stories; their roles in society and legend; and the traditional costumes they wear. Depictions of ancient ceremony and modern rituals reveal meanings as layered as the highly patterned, embroidered textiles they don for these twelve self-portraits. There is a grandeur in the formal, highly constructed mise-en-scène, a glimpse of another world, another experience – and a wealth of fascinating detail. It’s a chance to open one’s eyes.
The exhibition is showing from 7–18 May at fortyfivedownstairs, 45 Flinders Lane, Melbourne 3000.
*No designer sensibilities were harmed during the creation of this piece of graphic design.
The Dark Star
This is a new piece from my second collection of random poetry. It combines antique paper (a receipt from 1866), blue ink, and images cut or torn from magazines.
When I assembled the poem, the words ‘dark star’ stood out, and I knew exactly what I wanted to depict: a desolate planet lost in the darkness of the starless abyss – a terrifying place; and a giant door magically opening onto home, seemingly the only hope and source of light.
Only a few though will not take the easy road home.
But in the deadly new worlds drastic millions head for the hills
and take the door that will open
the only way home from the dark star
But nothing will move on those who hope
Tomorrow’s triumph is our future.
The Dream Under the Overpass
Oblivion :: Helga Viking // Claunch 72 Monochrome // No flashThe other day I was trawling through my photo archives and came across this photo of a drawing I did over a year ago. I had forgotten all about it, and how I laughed when I saw this picture. It brings to mind Callum Morton’s sculpture Hotel that sits surreally beside the EastLink freeway in Greater Melbourne. (I chuckle every time I flash past it.)
Hotel, Callum Morton 2008I often have very vivid dreams, many about travelling, but I might have forgotten all about this one if I hadn’t made this drawing the next day. I am not sure if it’s a fragment of the one where I was also travelling by bus through the snowy wastes of Russia. Here I had stepped off the road (note the striped roadworkers’ tape in the foreground) to view some sunken apartment buildings just beyond an overpass. I was warned by a fellow traveller not to step nearer because the ground was unsafe. Oh really? I never would have noticed. I didn’t care though – I needed to take photographs of this extraordinary sight. I am absolutely certain I would do the same thing in real life!
Now that I’ve found this photo (goodness knows what happened to the original sketch) this shall have to be turned into a proper drawing I think.