we are not what we seem

– words inscribed in the bottom of DeFeo's painter's stool

“All is falling”

– Bas Jan Ader

American artist Matthew Barney dreamt of playing #AmericanFootball at Yale. His body, too short for the demanding game, became his personal battleground by way of torturous prosthetics and art performances testing its endurance. A fascination with biology – he considered medicine as his profession – is a recurring motif in his art. This will teach us that stage 1 of the cremaster cycle is the moment when the cremaster muscle – the muscle in the biological male responsible for the ascent and descent of the testes – is at its most ascended or undifferentiated state.

 

Cremaster 1, the second of the five part Cremaster cycle (1994—2002), is set at the Bronco Stadium in #Boise, #Idaho, Barney's hometown. Due of his personal connection with the place he was able to secure the stadium for a lush musical revue, complete with chorus girls and Goodyear #blimps. Instead of cheerleading yells and the crushing noise of chronic traumatic encephalopathy, we find ourselves quietly poised in an airship high above the field.

 

In each airship there is an ethereal woman (both played by gender-ambigious Marti Domination), arranging and rearranging grapes in intricate shapes, illustrating the development of the foetus from non-gendered to male. Below on luminous blue AstroTurf, the chorus line follows the same patterns.

 

Cremaster 1 is arguably the most accessible instalment of the cycle. Everyone, even if not familiar with the name Busby Berkeley, recognises the kaleidoscopic choreography. And those who have never watched a game of football in their lives, may pick up the subliminal patterns created by men dressed to overemphasise their already excessive masculinity.

Commissioned for a West-German TV series called Kunstgeschichten (litt. both “art stories” and “#art histories”), filmmaker Harun Farocki visits artist Sarah Schumann in her #Berlin studio.

“An diesem Tag war das Bild, drei Monate nach Beginn und 67 Arbeitstagen fertig.”

– narrator

The resulting documentary shows the process of creating one art piece over the course of nine weeks. Schumann's work in that period consists of collage portraits of women important in her life.

A Bigger Splash is the name of one of painter David Hockney's best known works and part of a series of pool portraits of the artist's close friends, one of them his lover Peter Schlesinger, an artist in his own right. When in the early 1970s the relationship between the two men started to unravel it affected #Hockney so much it almost rendered him incapable of working.

“I paint what I like when I like, and where I like.”

– David Hockney

While going through Polaroids he found that two of the shots, one of a man #swimming underwater, the other of a man standing on a poolside, fell into the composition he was looking for. The resulting Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures) – where an unknown man can be seen swimming towards Hockney's fully-dressed former lover – bears similarities to Renaissance paintings where the composition of human figures, landscape, and perspective culminate in proto-cinematic storytelling.

 

Cinematographer and filmmaker Jack Hazan juxtaposes David Hockney working on Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures) with speculative scenes about the creation of the work and the disintegration of Hockney's and Schlesinger's relationship. It did create a splash, in particular in its ordinary depiction of a homosexual relationship.

 

A Bigger Splash is of course not the only (pseudo) documentary about an artist and his or her life, but one of the very few honest ones. The struggle to create is not romanticised, nor is the intimate relationship between artist and muse a playground of lazy, perverse speculation. As Hockney creates, destroys, and recreates his Pool, so we all destroy our lovers to bloom again.

CoBrA (1948—51) was a Copenhagen / Brussels / Amsterdam art collective whose manifest revolved around the liberation from the rigidity of art and life in drab, post-war Europe. Their spontaneous primal iconography and graffiti allowed them to not only regain the pleasure of painting, but also forge a new connection to colour and material. Especially the Dutch artists involved – Corneille, Appel, Lucebert, Constant – looked at the way children respond to the act of creation resulting in easy to comprehend semi-abstract paintings, sculptures and poems. The moronic “my child can paint that” that people still associate with modernist art can be traced back to (deliberately) misinterpreting these artists' objectives.

“Ik schilder als een barbaar van deze barbaarse tijd.”

– Karel Appel

After CoBrA broke up, Appel started treating his canvas not as something that merely props up an image, but as part of the artwork itself. Working in layers of paint and other media, with any tool at hand, he'd build a sculptural object that incorporates the movement of both artist and material. In order to film De werkelijkheid van Karel Appel, he cut a hole in the canvas through which the camera captures the physicality of the action and the emotional involvement of the artist.

 

For this film, and Karel Appel, Componist by photographer Ed van der Elsken (1961), Appel (in collaboration with Frits Weiland) composed tape loops to create a wall of sound complementing the image.