Introduction



Follow my journey, my struggle to success.
You can learn more, or you can learn less.
Enjoy the artwork, read what you will.
Don't be afraid to share your own skill(s).



This blog is now Mili Fay Art Blog


Tuesday 31 July 2012

PICASSO AT AGO

Have you ever wondered what you would look like as a Picasso portrait? Well, I need not wonder anymore. It was quite creepy to see my face from a series of four portraits in the AGO's "PICASSO: Masterpieces from the Musée National Picasso, Paris" exhibit.

I didn't have enough foresight to write down the name of the work, because as I stood by the work the other visitors kept staring at me in wonder. Quite unnerving, so I got myself away from those portraits as quickly as I could. All I remember is that they are located across from the wall displaying a photographic progress of Picasso creating "Guernica". So, if you visit the exhibit in its remaining 26 days, look for me there.

Another embarrassing discovery I made at the exhibit (that has nothing to do with Picasso) is that umbrellas are not allowed. Perhaps this should have been obvious to me, but as none of the staff said anything until I was in the show, I thought there was no problem. Then, out of the blue, a tiny security woman came up to me, looked at me as if I was a terrorist about to strike, and told me that umbrellas are not allowed. I can take the umbrella down to the coat check myself, or she can have someone bring me a ticket while I continue to view the show. Feeling as if every guard in the gallery was ready to take me down if I made a sudden move, I slowly let the woman know that I chose the latter option. She confiscated my umbrella as if I intended to swing it around and brandish it like a weapon at the unsuspecting guests. I acted all cool, but deep down I was embarrassed. I do not like drawing attention to myself under the best of circumstances, and being reprimanded and treated as a naughty child in a gallery show does make one stand out. It does not help that I'm 5' 9" and was wearing a somewhat-fancy red dress (after the gallery I was going to the theatre). So, I had plenty of people staring at me. The security lady was polite enough about it, but I felt dreadful nevertheless.

In the end, there was no one who could be spared to bring me a coat-check ticket, so I got my umbrella back, with the warning to be careful with it. I tucked it against my front and assured the woman that I would be careful, while in my head I imagined swinging the umbrella like a sword at the visitors of the exhibit. Really, what am I, five?

So, there I was, secure in the knowledge that the security lady from the first room let every other security person know about the "trouble making tall woman in the read dress with a black umbrella"; secure, because none of the other guards mentions it again. Then, in the last room, an old gentleman security guard approached me and said politely: "Miss, that is quite a long umbrella you have there?"

Believe me, I will never, NEVER, bring an umbrella into the gallery, ever again!

Now, let me get back to Picasso.

I confess: I am not a fan of Picasso.

I can see how his work may have been shocking and innovative back in the day, but as I looked at it without considering its historical value, all I could think about was that if I created something like it in school, I would have gotten an F. His sculptures--guitars and violins--looked like bunch of garbage stuck together. I stared at them, baffled that there are people in this world who would pay millions for something like that, while my fellow artists are struggling to make a living.

Even though I am not a fan of Picasso, there are some pieces that I did like. I liked the long, vertical cubist paintings in the second room. They have been commissioned for a library, but when Picasso finished them, the patron rejected the work and refused to pay him for it. Typical!

In the first room, there is a painting of his dead friend who committed suicide for love. It is fairly realistic and very small, but I found it beautiful. I could really feel Picasso's sorrow, and I can understand his despicable treatment of women after seeing that work.

According to scholars, Picasso developed his style, because "he could paint like Rafael by the time he was 12". I'm not sure I agree. Seeing a few realistic painting represented in the show, I believe he could have spent more time developing realism. Even the quite beautiful painting "La Célestine", lacks structural integrity seen in the works of Rafael.

I do like "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon" and other works influenced by African art. They are beautiful broad pieces of muted colour that look great on a wall, and yet their themes tend to be disturbing. That is another aspect of Picasso I was not aware of as a child studying art. All those bright colours and cartoony shapes representing blatant sexual poses and acts.

I love the bright colours of "The Reader" and Dora Maar's portrait. I think Dora Maar's portrait may be my favourite work of the exhibit.

There was also a sculpture with a burning candle and a scull. It looked like something Tim Burton may create, and it is the one piece in the show I would buy if it was for sale and I had the money. I just love the combination of energy, darkness and silliness.

I also remember a nice sculpture of a goat.

What I find tragic about Picasso's work is that after he developed his style he stopped growing as an artist. His work in his 30s looked new and fresh, but later... It stayed the same to the end of his life and I found it quite tiresome.

So, as an artist I can appreciate what he has done for the art world, but I cannot pretend to be a fan of his work.

I do believe that you should go to the exhibit and see it, despite my lack of enthusiasm, because it is historical, and who knows, you may find something in Picasso's work that speaks to you, and you may find it absolutely brilliant.

That is the one thing I love and hate about art: it is all subjective.