ART 4 2-DAY 27 June v.9.50
>Born on 27 June 1913: Philip
Goldstein “Guston”, in Montreal, Canada,
Expressionist painter who died on 07 June 1980.
— He moved to Los Angeles with his family in 1919. He began to paint and draw in 1927 and attended the Otis Art Institute for three months (1930). At this stage he based his technique on a close study of the art of Giorgio de Chirico and painters of the Italian Renaissance such as Paolo Uccello, Andrea Mantegna and Piero della Francesca. He was attempting to integrate the modelled architectural space of Renaissance art with the contracted, reassembled space of Cubism, for example in paintings of sinister hooded figures reminiscent of the Ku Klux Klan such as Conspirators (1930).
— Born in Montreal but grew up in Los Angeles. Studied briefly at the Otis Art Institute in 1930, but otherwise self-taught as a painter. His early work was influenced by Renaissance masters such as Uccello, but combined their type of figure composition with a compressed treatment of space derived from Cubism and de Chirico. Worked 1934-42 almost exclusively as a mural painter on the WPA Federal Art Project and other public works projects in Los Angeles and New York. Turned to easel painting after moving to Iowa City in 1941 and had his first one-man exhibition at the State University of Iowa 1944. Awarded First Prize at the 1945 Pittsburgh International. Began to develop an abstract style in 1947, then settled in New York in 1950 and joined the circle of the Abstract Expressionists. Turned in the late 1960s to a form of figuration with schematic images of an enigmatic Surrealistic kind. Moved in 1967 to Woodstock, New York. Died at Woodstock.
— When Philip Guston in the autumn of 1970 exhibited his new figurative paintings in the New York Marlborough Gallery, a storm broke over his head. His contemporary critics could apparently not get over the fact that a painter, whom they had for over two decades counted among the heroes of Abstract Expressionism, had with no apparent warning changed camps.
Since the 50s, the relationship between abstraction and figuration had become so hardened that a vote for the one or the other was tantamount to a religious avowal. At first this was politically colored. Nazi Germany's complete elimination of abstract tendencies, on the one hand, and the doctrine of Social Realism, on the other, made abstract painting a symbolic bastion of postwar freedom and democracy - on both sides of the Atlantic.
Not till Pop Art could this pitfall to consciousness be amended, insofar as art then became dedicated to a world that saw its political values absorbed into its consumer goods. If artistic liberty multiplied in view of the new aesthetics of products, the dogmatic position associated with abstract painting continued in another form. The dogmatism that began politically was gradually replaced by one that concerned more the inner surface of painting, yet was no less ideologically determined. It found its highpoint and its endpoint in the theory of Radical Painting: an emphatic avowal of 'pure' color that placed all narrative forms of art under suspicion of heresy. This was the mid-eighties when, in Europe, a Neo-Expressionism returned with a vengeance, the roots of which converged on the change in direction that Guston had taken in 1968.
The feat that Guston accomplished can hardly be appraised highly enough. Even if his new figurativeness had already been foreshadowed in 1966 at the exhibition in the Jewish Museum in New York, the majority of the art public had studiously ignored this important half-way step and continued to commit the artist to continue in the painting style he had so long delighted in. In fact, Guston's recent switch to the figurative remained unusual even to those of the following generation. In contrast to his colleague and friend Willem de Kooning, for example, who had drawn criticism when he exhibited his Women series in 1953 with its early rebuff of Abstract Expressionism, Guston considered his conversion to be irreversible. This made him an exception in a world where the number of artists who turned from figuration to abstraction was legion. Their shining example was the path that High Modernism had gone, with Mondrian and Kandinsky as pathfinders, a path whose inner necessity and logic seemed so convincing that it marginalized every other divergent possibility.
Particularly Mondrian's artistic development was considered as paradigmatic for American as it was for European art, because color-field painting could so go against the grain of Mondrian's relational concept. It was in the nature of things that the reversal of this paradigm, which for many decades was absolutely identified with the genesis of Modernism, was destined to provoke contradiction. And, finally, the purist aesthetics of Minimal Art made their own contribution to the uproar Guston caused in 1970.
That Guston was not out for provocation is clear from his own statements. As early as 1960 the public should have been alerted when he spoke of the 'impurity' of painting during a public discussion (in which Ad Reinhardt, Jack Tworkow and Robert Motherwell also participated), at the same time stressing its representational function: There is something ridiculous and miserly in the myth we inherit from abstract art: That painting is autonomous, pure and for itself - therefore we habitually analyze its ingredients and define its limits. But painting is 'impure'. It is the adjustment of 'impurities' which forces its continuity. We are image-makers and image-ridden. There are no "wiggly or straight lines" or any other elements. You work until they vanish. The picture isn't finished if they are seen.
This was not only directed against Ad Reinhardt, whose manifesto Twelve Rules for a New Academy, published in 1957, was an obsessive avowal of purified painting, it also, above all, applied to Guston's art itself, which could be read at the time solely as color-form events. In truth, Guston, as Robert Storr shows, only produced art that was completely non-representational between 1951 and 1954: "By the mid-1950s Guston had abandoned the practice of giving his paintings numerical or generic names, and his new titles reflected the growing 'thingness' of his images, suggesting a wide variety of specific subjects, moods, and art historical references.' On the other hand, the evolutionary logic inherent in his abstract works demonstrates how the new figurativeness came about almost of necessity.
How much Guston's abstraction of the 50s was parallel to his times was something Lawrence Alloway recognized when he stressed the way lyrical abstraction was built up in the rigorous structure of the 'pink paintings' between 1952 and 1954. "These are the works in which, under the mask of discrete lyricism, he has been most radical, presenting paintings that are the sum of their discrete visible parts. In this structural candor he can be likened to Pollock in his open drip paintings... One reason for suggesting that these paintings are 'radical' Is that they make almost no use of one of the most persistent conventions of Western art, the hierarchic ranking of forms... Non-hierarchic forms can be achieved either holistically by unbroken color areas (Newman, Rothko) or by the repetition of small visible elements (Pollock, Guston)."
Starting with a work like Ochre Painting 1 (1951) via To BWT (1952), and Zone (1954), up to Untitled (1958), a continual line is being drawn: it begins with the egalitarian structure described by Alloway; all the elements, however relate at first to the picture plane. In To BWT the grid structure is concentrated at the center of the picture; an imaginary optical plane is created that pulls the foreground elements together with those of the background into a continuum. In Zone the massed paint takes on a material character that presses forward out of the picture plane. This materiality in Untitled encompasses the whole body of the painting, while the elementary structure of small particles is abandoned. Although it looks like Guston has here returned to traditional composition, his compositional method is based less on a planimetric order - on the contrary, this becomes disorganized - than on the step-by-step spatial transference of individual color-forms from the background. The whole canvas develops quasi from back to front and so, in a certain way preserves its non-hierarchic status. ...
What the figurative aspect finally crystallized into was that cartoon-like, slightly coarse style that was to characterize his late paintings from 1968 on. The dualism had now completely evolved. Guston was partly spared a constant tug-of-war in that he did his 'pure' drawings during the day and gave himself up to the world of objects at night. This dichotomy tells us much. It testifies to the fact that the artist was aware of having invaded 'forbidden' territory, that he was about to create something that the sober light of day could hardly bear The title of Goya's famous caprice supplies us with the suitable metaphor: The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. What was monstrous was less the things themselves that Guston put down on paper than the profound dichotomy of the working method itself. It tells us how much the historical paradigm that describes the path from the figurative to the abstract (the reversal of which proves recalcitrant) has even become inscribed in the artist's own idea of himself.
If the return to the world of things, as the 'dark pictures' make clear are based in part on the painting process itself, what was certainly essential was a lively political awareness that Guston had shown since his artistic beginnings. In 1977 he retrospectively spoke of this aspect in a quite clear-cut way: "So when the 1960's came along I was feeling split, schizophrenic. The war, what was happening to America, the brutality of the world. What kind of man am 1, sitting at home, reading magazines, going into a frustrated fury about everything - and then going into my studio to adjust a red to a blue. [..] I wanted to be complete again, as I was when I was a kid.... Wanted to be whole between what I thought and what I felt."
One picture can perhaps equally articulate Guston's schizophrenia and his desire for wholeness. It is one of a collection of works that contains a head turned to the right, with eyes wide open and a furrowed brow. Basically the mouth is missing in these faces, while a cigarette usually juts from the lower half: a sure indication that it is the chain smoking Guston. Although this insignia is absent in our picture, the other motifs allow it to be classified without doubt as a self-portrait. Spleen was painted in 1975 and its pink background contains only few figurative elements. In front of a line, interpretable as a table edge, lies a thin, limp paintbrush. From it juts the profile of the head and a single fist. A picture within a picture, which dashingly portrays a sparkling sun, has been placed directly vis-a-vis the eye; it nearly seems to be stuck there. The link between picture and eye has been arranged almost obsessively in that the student's diameter is exactly the same as the sun's. The picture of the sun has the character of an idee fixe. It points to that counterworld that normally remains invisible in his pictures: his longing for holistic beauty - a childhood dream. Present in the work is the awareness that this longing is a vain one. The pendant to the sun is the fist, into which all indignation about the existing state of affairs is concentrated.
The picture's few ingredients express the dilemma that is never to let Guston go. There can be no mediation between the beauty that he called up in his works of the 50s and his reference to the social world as It affected him and that he felt to be bitter and violent. Which is why the paintbrush in this picture is limp and dull.
Guston made the decision to portray the world as represented by the clenched fist. The artistic means he used to do so and that first turn up In the drawings have been debated: his early interest in cartoons, namely the comics of George Herriman and later of Robert Crumb, his fascination for the paintings and drawings of Max Beckmann, which he was able to see as early as 1938 in New York and especially to study during his years of teaching in St. Louis (1945-1947). Beckmann did not only appeal to him thematically; for his new works Guston also borrowed his method of drawing closed contours around the figures.
And yet none of the influences that were doubtlessly at work here give an adequate explanation of the enormous turnabout that Guston made between 1968 and 1970 with the introduction of his crude, casual and comic-strip-like images. We need to go back one step to find the key. While working on the 'dark pictures' from 1961 to 1965, Guston had, as he himself noted, reached a point where painting had become 'crucial'. He had advanced to its most elementary state, by eliminating all painting's seductive means such as the use of color. The alternate application of black and white paint led to a process of mutual erasing, whereby the paint became amassed into various gray tones. It was a continual trial of strength from which, in the end, form and arrangement emerged. And, in fact, these paintings lacked any kind of virtuosity in its conventional sense. They are the result of a restriction he inflicted on himself, not so as to sound out the limits of his capacities, but so as to experience the inner essence of the painting process - how does form, how does a picture originate?
When Guston decided to dedicate himself again to the world of things, this experience stood him in good stead. He had the example of Pop Art directly before his eyes, which opened up our everyday world by taking its most superficial and, at the same time, most significant aspect as a reproach: advertising. But could credibility become possible by bringing the artistic medium in line with consumer aesthetics, as did Pop Art? And, on the other hand, could you tell stories by using an artistic skill, which he, Guston, had already almost twenty years ago brought to a level that in every way was convincing and unquestionable?
Against this background it was only consistent to again lay down a restriction. No more 'beautiful' pictures for the sake of credibility. 'Bad' painting for the sake of story-telling. Painting that articulates its proximity to caricature, so as to be able to bring violence, wit, politics and the grotesque into play. And finally, self-inflicted restriction so as to be finally free of those outside restrictions that an academically-neutered Modernism, its public and critics demanded of an artist like Guston. The 'dark pictures' were an important, indispensable lesson in a process of liberation, since they allowed the artist to reach a point where the crude, violent and simplified style of the late works was to a certain degree anticipated.
In Flatlands (1970), the possibilities of this newly won freedom are spread out like a tableau - the possibility, say, of looking back without anger and at the same time being lord of the present. In his earliest works Guston had portrayed the martial activity of the Ku Klux Klan with the necessary gloom and acuity (Conspirators, 1930). These killers now appear again on the scene, limbs of corpses paving their way. In fact there is nothing whole in this landscape: a conglomerate of ruinous elements, the result of a devastation that time has revealed. But the protagonists themselves have lost their nether parts like figures in a game whose rules they cannot fathom. The seams of their hoods expose the overblown puppets for what they are: the seams show that it is the women in the background who have sustained the masquerade with their handiwork.
Herein lay Guston's new possibility of coping with everyday violence and terror - by exposing them to ridicule. This could only ensue from an equal portion of brute force and the pseudo-gay, as it has been put to the test here in all deliberateness. The artist did not hesitate to include a bit of self-criticism - in the form of a swollen hand that points to the only intact object, an abstract picture. The sun is also not missing, the sun that later in Spleen becomes a trauma. Here it is, together with the pink clouds, an ingredient that lends the scene's gay cynicism the last bit of spice.
The grotesque was inscribed in Guston's late work as an expression of his split consciousness vis-a-vis the everyday, political terror and his very real powerlessness as an artist. The grotesque world is our world - and is not. Horror mixed with smiles has its basis in the experience that our familiar world, seemingly moored in a fixed order turns topsy-turvy, its order nullified. This seems to have been Guston's basic mood these last ten years. The massive irruption of those hooded figures into his new picture-world speaks a clear language. Whether they gang up before the gates to the city, ride through the neighborhood in open cars, or after a day of work - dismembered bodies piled up in the background as trophies - hold a palaver, their presence seem ubiquitous, almost normal. This is what makes such paintings and drawings so uncanny, that the evil arrives with the greatest matter-of-factness and, as such, seems to be an outright synonym of middle-class citizenry.
The awareness of his own powerlessness led Guston to put himself into the role of the pursuer. We are suddenly confronted with the hooded man in the studio, holding the unavoidable cigarette in the right, plying the paintbrush with the right. "The idea of evil fascinated me... " Guston said. "I almost tried to imagine I was living with the Klan. What would it be like to be evil? To plan, to plot?" "In the last years this grotesque-comic side in his work was to recede more and more, while his dark pessimism about the state of the world grew. This is the period of apocalyptic fantasies like Yellow Light (1975), or the three versions of a flood (e.g., Deluge II, 1975), from which there is no escape. He recognized his own alter ego in Goya's darkest engraving [sic]: it shows a dog trying in vain to climb a hill while he is being relentlessly buried under sand. (Un perro, 1821).
It is significant that in Guston's late works there is as good as no complete body to be seen, including his self-portraits. Anatomy is reduced to the head. In view of a world out of joint, his feeling of being imprisoned in the role of spectator must have taken over his consciousness more and more. And when some part of the body other than a head damned to watch and suffer appeared, It was no less dismembered. The paintings Feet on Rug (1978), and Ravine (1979), among the most agitating of his last years, show just such mutilation. The one shows two foot stumps, motionless on a rug specially made for them, before an empty horizon. The other is a ravine into which beetles make their way over what is, in reality, the anatomy between head and shoulder transformed into a topographical formation. These are documents of desolation that have yet found a unique form, testimony to an artist who is painting against his own downfall.
–- Pit (526x849pix, 84kb — ZOOM to 1052x1698pix, 146kb)
–- City Limits (591x792pix, 64kb — ZOOM to 1182x1584pix, 112kb)
–- Green Rug (848x606pix, 75kb — ZOOM to 1272x909pix, 84kb)
–- Head (673x734pix, 52kb — ZOOM to 1346x1468pix, 98kb)
–- Paint, Smoke, Eat (612x816pix, 68kb — ZOOM to 1224x1632pix, 122kb)
–- Roma (1971; 800x1134pix, 46kb) _ compare Notsug's
_ Amor di Ettone (2001; 800x1134pix, 48kb)
–- The Street (554x896pix, 52kb)
— The Return (1958, 178x199cm; 460x512pix, 30kb) _ Before the Second World War Guston painted figurative works with a specific social content. Then, in 1951, he made his first truly abstract paintings. By the middle of the decade, in paintings such as this one, Guston had begun to paint block-like forms in strong colors, grouped at the center of the image. He thought of the shapes in this painting as being equivalent to figures who had been away for some time and were now returning.
— Bad habits (1970, 185x198cm; 561x600pix, 112kb) _ After the delicate painterly abstraction that had characterized Guston's art since the early 1950s and made him a well-known member of Abstract Expressionism, the raw figurative paintings of 1970 came as a shock not altogether welcomed by art critics. Guston said later about the generally hostile reaction: “I was excommunicated for a while”
In retrospect, the affinities between the late figurative paintings and his previous work are as apparent as their novelty; the inflected, creamy paint surface of his abstract paintings remains undiminished and his images re-invoke themes from his figurative paintings of the 1930s and 1940s. The hooded figures that appear in Bad habits recall his paintings of the Ku Klux Klan of the early 1930s, as does the image of flagellation.
In a lecture in March 1978 Guston spoke of his relationship between his recent and earlier work in a way that is illuminating of Bad habits:
“As a young boy I was an activist in radical politics, and although I am no longer an activist, I keep track of everything. In 1967-1968 I became very disturbed by the war [Vietnam] and the demonstrations. They became my subject matter and I was flooded by a memory. When I was about 17 or 18, I had done a whole series of paintings about the Ku Klux Klan, which was very powerful in Los Angeles at that time … In the new series of 'hoods' my attempt was really not to illustrate, to do pictures of the KKK, as I had done earlier. The idea of evil fascinated me, and rather like Isaac Babel who had joined the Cossacks, lived with them and written stories about them, I almost tried to imagine that I was living with the Klan. What would it be like to be evil? To plan and plot. Then I started conceiving an imaginary city being overtaken by the Klan. I was like a movie director. I couldn't wait, I had hundreds of pictures in mind and when I left the studio I would make notes to myself, memos, 'Put them all around the table, eating, drinking beer'. Ideas and feelings kept coming so fast; I couldn't stop, I was sitting on the crest of a wave.”
— To B.W.T. (1952, 123x131cm; 690x747pix, 130kb)
— Zone (1954)
— The Clock (1957)
— City Limits (1969)
— Outskirts (1969)
— The Studio (1969)
— A Day's Work (1970)
— Painting, Smoking, Eating (1973)
— Head (1975)
— Deluge II (1975)
— Ancient Wall (1976)
— Green Rug (1976)
— The Pit (1976)
— Room (1976)
— Curtain (1977)
— Sleeping (1977)
— Entrance (1979)
— Talking (1979)
Born on 27 June 1923: Paul F. Conrad,
Cedar Rapids Iowa, cartoonist (Pulitzer 1964, 1971, 1984)
— Conrad was the chief editorial cartoonist for the Los Angeles Times from 1964 to 1993, and he continued to produce 4 cartoons each week, published worldwide by the Los Angeles Times Syndicate. In addition to his Pulitzers, Conrad has won two Overseas Press Club awards (1970 and 1981). In 1997 the Society of Professional Journalists/Sigma Delta Chi (SDX) honored him with an unprecedented 7th Distinguished Service Award for Editorial Cartooning. Conrad is the only journalist to win that many SDX awards in any category since the annual competition began in 1932. His other awards, including the Lifetime Achievement Award of the American Association of Editorial Cartoonists, are too numerous to list, but cover every award and honor an editorial cartoonist can win. Conrad's favorite "award" was his 1973 inclusion on Richard Nixon's fabled "Enemies List." His favorite irony was holding the Richard M. Nixon Chair at Nixon's alma mater, Whittier College during the 1977-1978 academic year.
Conrad's books include When in the Course of Human Events (1973, with Malcom Boyd), The King and Us (1974), Pro and Conrad (1979), Drawn and Quartered (1985), CONartist (1993) and his 1999 best seller Drawing the Line. Conrad's work has been exhibited at the L.A. County Museum of Art, and other major museums around the country. His complete archive of Original Cartoon Art--along with his working sketches, notes and correspondence-- is maintained at the Huntington Library, except for those pieces honored by their inclusion in the "American Treasures of the Library of Congress," an unprecedented permanent exhibition of the rarest and most significant items from the Library's American History collection.
— “Whether loved or hated....it's broadly agreed that Paul Conrad is, in his field of editorial cartooning, a genius.” Shelby Coffee III
— Read Conrad at the Library of Congress.
— Four More Years
I Am Not
New Mount Rushmore
Reagan Plays War
Nixon's Revenge: How Sweet It Is
— The Arabian Candidate
— No More War
— No Child Left Behind
— Fixing the UN
— Compassionate Conservatism
— A Day that Will Live in Infamy
— Joe Lieberman?
— Go Home, Bill Clinton
— Death Penalty
— 5 cartoons on 1 page: Pardon me, Mr. Wallace _ Violation _ Continued Bombing _ Small World _ Political Announcement
— 13 cartoons on 4 pages: I.O.U. _ Mushroom Cloud _ Vietnam and Iraq: Nothing Succeeds Like Failure _ Shame On You _ The Only Paper Trail _ The Grush Who Stole Christmas Yet To Come _ Ashcroft's USA Patriot Act _ The Day The Lights Went Out _ The First Casualty _ Gearoge Pinocchio Bush and his WMD _ Nothing Succeeds Like Failure _ And I Am Ceasar _ The Bill Of Rights Behind Bars