Sunday, February 10, 2013

Just Like a Photograph



Rhode Island School of Design Museum of Art
"It looks just like a photograph,” said one middle-aged man to another while viewing Sargent’s affecting 1905 portrait of the 100-year-old Spanish singer Manuel Garcia at the IBM Gallery on 57th Street some years ago.  It was around noontime.  The two gentlemen were dressed in suits and looked respectable and polite, so I was encouraged to interject, “No it doesn’t.  It looks just like life itself.  No photograph can even come close to that.”

Antwerp Cathedral, Belgium
But artists know that the highest praise John Q. Public can bestow on a figurative painting today is, “It looks just like a photograph.”  Aren’t we glad that Rubens lived in an age when painting was supreme among all the visual arts and he could paint “The Descent from the Cross” and not worry about Photorealism, Hyperrealism or any other shady art marketing gimmick.

I blame photography for a lot of the evil visited upon figurative painting over the past 100 years in the guise of artistic freedom.  When photography was new in the 19th Century, Degas and many other painters were fascinated, and they enjoyed sampling from this magic elixir.  A few of the academic realists, including plein air painters like Dagnan-Bouveret, even painted figures based on photographs, a shocking discovery for some of us in the late 20th Century. 

The best figurative painters in the 19th Century continued to paint from life, though, and seemingly ignored this potential threat to their livelihoods.  The existence of photos of subjects painted by Sargent does not prove by any stretch of the imagination that he used them in his figure work, but a couple of his later landscapes look rather suspicious. 

Other brilliant bravura painters, like Zorn and Sorolla, appeared to have good reasons for employing photos of people on occasion to help with some of their more challenging subjects.  Zorn seemed to have used reference photos for his paintings of pulchritudinous nudes posing sweetly unabashed in a Swedish forest or stream.  But the paintings bear (sic) little resemblance to the photos, praise the Lord.

Sorolla’s beach scenes in brilliant sunlight, with their precise, late-afternoon cast shadows on the animated figures, could easily have been abetted by the use of photos.  But if he did use photos, nobody seems to have reported seeing him do so.  The great Boldini thought Sorolla painted from snapshots.  Sorolla’s father-in-law had a photography studio.  One of Sorolla’s American students recalled that he would always be shooed off at a critical point so he never saw Sorolla apply the finishing touches to a painting.  Hmmm!  But other painters firmly declared that Sorolla never painted from photographs.  The best 19th Century figurative artists did not need to use photographs anyway because their painting and drawing skills were so secure, honed from an early age. 

Despite its many advantages over oil painting as a visual record-keeper, photography sucks the life out of life.  Humans don’t see their world like a camera does, so there is no visceral connection with a still photograph in the way there can be when an oil portrait, landscape or still life is powerfully executed from direct observation of nature.

Many of today’s figurative painters are willing slaves to the photographs that have enabled them to paint dogs, horses, and humans in the first place.  Some of them do very well financially, thank you very much.  But speaking from experience, most of them begin their serious studies too late in life to develop the presumed extraordinary hand to eye coordination of the earlier painters, who started at age 12 or younger and kept right on going, with no time off to attend an Ivy League finishing school.  As a consequence, most of today’s painters are unable to expand convincingly on the enforced parameters of the flat photograph, with its foreshortening absurdities.  Nor can they compensate for the photo’s utter lack of atmospheric perspective (visual effects created by the air we breathe, particularly depth perception and color modification).  This is the thing that ultimately brings life to the painted image when carefully observed from nature and suggested on canvas by a sensitive artist.  The worst part of all this is the painters don’t see anything wrong with copying photographs, usually claiming they are “interpreting” them, and the buying public doesn’t either! 

Quite a growing number of young artists in America and elsewhere are currently attempting to work from life in the style of Bouguereau and other 19th Century French academic artists.  They attempt to follow what is known about the French academic method in their portrait and figure sketches, which are often very accomplished.  In their more polished works, while they may they get the surface look of those earlier paintings, they miss the feeling.  I think they spend too many hours zeroing in on details that are captured better by high-resolution digital cameras.  In fact, it occurs to me that a futile competition with an “iron horse” might be playing out here.  The old painters were admonished to subdue or ignore those details.  It used to be said that it took two people to paint a picture – one to paint it and the other to tell him when to quit.  Nobody believes that anymore!

Another issue I have with these neo-Bouguereau painters is their high-contrast figures often appear to be cut out from the surrounding space, which is rendered without a satisfying illusion of depth.  And attempts to inject poetic narrative into their figurative paintings, so commonplace in the 19th Century, seem merely to be awkwardly executed tributes to those earlier painters, at least in my jaundiced view.  Take a good look at the Art Renewal Center website and judge for yourself.

Ultimately, of course, we are all caught up in the maelstrom of high-definition this and that now dominating our visual world.  So maybe it’s inevitable that many of today’s painters, even when they work entirely from life, end up with paintings that really do look “just like a photograph!”