Category Archives: The Arts

Poetry 52: Shadow by Lenni Sykes

panther
Death is stalking you
Following you like a shadow
It clings
And claws
And has you in its grip
But you are resisting
You will not succumb
Not yet
Not today
But soon
Next week?
Next month?
Next year even?
I do not know when it will win
I only know you won’t give in
Not readily
Not easily
You will fight and stay
Until you have no say

(c) L Sykes 20 Nov 2014

Image courtesy of webring.org

Max Beckman 1884 – 1950. German The Journey of the Fishes 1934.

 

 

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Max Beckman was born in Leipzig, Germany, when he was ten years old his father died and the family moved to Brunswick in Lower Saxony, his parent’s birthplace. Beckman attended the Grandducal Art School in Weimar in 1900, three years later he stayed in Paris and in 1904 he goes to Berlin, then in 1906 he travels to Florence where he spent six months, in 1905 he joins the Die Brucke art group which was formed in Dresden, – there is an earlier blog on this site about that art movement. Beckman’s work is called German Expressionist although his work is figurative, he rejected the description and became a member of a group called New Objectivity along with the painter George Grosz among others, they looked forward with a certain amount of cynicism, having seen the results of war.  Beckman was to become even more outraged by the activities of the Nazis after the 1930s  Returning to his early years, on the move again he  moves to Berlin in 1907, in 1908 he and his wife have a son, Peter.   At the outbreak of WW1 in 1914 he enlists in the German army field hospital corps but on health grounds he is discharged a year later. Max Beckman’s work was influenced by the experiences of living through both world wars, his time in the army was very traumatic and left a lasting impression which impacted on his art producing strong, raw images of people in different places with hard faces without laughter, at the circus, on the dance floor or sitting at a table in a restaurant, he also painted several self portraits.

In 1925 he married for the second time and taught art in Frankfurt for eight years, he exhibited work in New York, Hammheim and in Berlin. In 1933 the Nazi regime dismissed him from his post, Max Beckman moves back again to Berlin, his work is taken out of exhibitions by Hitler and along with the work of other painters that Hitler rejects an exhibition is set up called ‘Degenerate Art’ opened for the public to visit and ridicule. In 1937 Beckman and his wife move to Amsterdam where he is very productive, also spending some time in Paris. During a visit to London he gives a lecture called ‘On My Painting’ it was an anti- Nazi discourse. He exhibits work in the ‘Exhibition of 20th century German Art’. During 1938/9 he lives in Paris, he seems to be a constant wanderer, in 1947 the family moved to New York where he spent more settled years although he toured around the USA and taught in Washington until his death in 1950. I think the life that Beckman led and his experiences, especially the year working in an army hospital are reflected in his work, his paintings are not easy viewing.

I have chosen a painting called The Journey of the Two Fishes,  oil on canvas completed in 1934. We see a couple who are bound together and strapped to two fishes, a strange craft, Beckman’s mythology was his own but he was interested in Babylonian lore and myth which portrays a god named Dagon, a fertility symbol who has the head of a fish and a similar god called Oannes who brought wisdom to humankind. The fishes are diving to the depths of the ocean, the woman stares into the distance, the man is very afraid knowing that they are ‘heading for perdition’, both have removed their masks, their shallow lives revealed, for Beckman the fishes were a symbol of overpowering sexual desires, he had seen medieval paintings depicting the Last Judgement such as in the fresco at Composanto at Pisa, also Hindu myths. The black colour at the lower edge of the work is ‘ a tragic symbol of hopelessness.’ We can also see a glimmer of hope in the sailing ship on the right hand side, its mast is the shape of a cross, a coincidence or not?

Information from wikipedia, the image is taken from the book Beckman, written by S Luckner.

Poetry 51: An Autumn Sunset by Edith Wharton

sunset

Leaguered in fire
The wild black promontories of the coast extend
Their savage silhouettes;
The sun in universal carnage sets,
And, halting higher,
The motionless storm-clouds mass their sullen threats,
Like an advancing mob in sword-points penned,
That, balked, yet stands at bay.
Mid-zenith hangs the fascinated day
In wind-lustrated hollows crystalline,
A wan valkyrie whose wide pinions shine
Across the ensanguined ruins of the fray,
And in her hand swings high o’erhead,
Above the waste of war,
The silver torch-light of the evening star
Wherewith to search the faces of the dead.

Lagooned in gold,
Seem not those jetty promontories rather
The outposts of some ancient land forlorn,
Uncomforted of morn,
Where old oblivions gather,
The melancholy unconsoling fold
Of all things that go utterly to death
And mix no more, no more
With life’s perpetually awakening breath?
Shall Time not ferry me to such a shore,
Over such sailless seas,
To walk with hope’s slain importunities
In miserable marriage? Nay, shall not
All things be there forgot,
Save the sea’s golden barrier and the black
Close-crouching promontories?
Dead to all shames, forgotten of all glories,
Shall I not wander there, a shadow’s shade,
A spectre self-destroyed,
So purged of all remembrance and sucked back
Into the primal void,
That should we on that shore phantasmal meet
I should not know the coming of your feet?

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Henri Matisse 1869 – 1954, Fauve Movement The Joy of Living 1904-5.

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Henry Matisse was born in northern France, he studied Law in Paris before realising that he wanted to be an artist, from 1891 he studied in Paris. He wrote that while painting he had discovered ‘ a kind of paradise.’ He was a leading member of the Fauve movement or the Wild Ones, the Fauve painters were revolutionary, Matisse wold develop new styles of painting as the years passed but the Wild Ones were a link to modern art, another bridge. Matisse was a leading figure in this art movement while remaining an upholder of the classical French tradition studying work by artists like Chardin, Poussin and Watteau. He spent time in London and saw the Turners there, when he was more financially secure he lived in Algiers and Morocco absorbing the art of Islam, he knew the work of Van Gough and became a lifelong friend of Picasso whom he met in 1906, he also admired Manet and Japanese art, all these influences will have been stored to use in his own way. He had a daughter called Marguerite with his model Caroline Joblau, he then married Amelie Noelle Paryre, they had a daughter, Emilie took on the care for Marguerite.

Matisse drew what he saw but changed the colour if required to bring balance, ‘the colour became the subject of the painting as well as its expression, ‘ He was a master draughtsman and his colour theory was bold, he would use reds against greens, violets against yellows for example, complementary colours that affected each other making them more vibrant, he wrote that he did not paint what he saw literally but how he felt about it, the emotion it produced in him in an embodied way. I admire Matisse’s work enormously he is one of my favourite painters, his colours are magnificent.

The Joy of Living, Le Bonheur was painted in the years 1905 and 1906, the symbolism is carried in its title, the painting is a nostalgic return to the Garden of Eden where clothes are not necessary, work is not a trial and sadness does not exist, what bliss! The yellow beach stretches out far to sea, tree trunks are coloured aqua marine and violet, the leafy canopy ranges through pale ochre, orange, green and violet, a patch of sky above the tree on the right hand side is a delicate pink/purple. The curves of the figures are echoed by the sinuous tree trunks which form a curtain on this stage, the main lovers are bounded by a shady outline, as though they are immune from what is going on around being only involved with each other. The figures are not to scale, we are invited to enter the painting and view them from different perspectives, there is some perspective we see the distant horizon, the colours are not as we see them, why should a sky be blue in a dream? Matisse wrote ‘ Slowly I discovered the secret of my art. It consists of a meditation on nature,’ the fauna and flora around him. It is ‘the expression of a dream which is always inspired by reality’.

Matisse was non-political, his daughter Marguerite was an activist in WW2 she was captured and tortured by the German authorities, it can be imagined how distraught he felt, she managed to escape while being moved to a concentration camp. He became ill in his old age but continued to work in his sick bed, with the help of assistants he created large coloured paper cut outs, many of which were exhibited in London recently. He died after a heart attack in 1954

 

Image from wikimedia commons.

Poetry 48: Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen

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Dulce Et Decorum Est pro patria mori is the beginning of an ode by Horace. The words were well known and regularly quoted at the start of the first world war. They translate as: “It is sweet and right to die for your country”.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons