CRAIGIE AITCHISON

Craigie Aitchison was born in 1926 in Edinburgh, Scotland. He original planned to follow his father's footsteps in a law career, attending school at Edinburgh University. However, in 1952 he switched into art and completed school at the Slade School of Art. Aitchison became part of a group of artists, known as The School of London, who focused their work primarily on figurative painting, maintaining elements of modern technique but distancing from "the radical tendencies of contemporary art," as the Artbook puts it. Aitchison's painted incredibly simplified figures, and devoted a large portion of his subject matter to the Crucifixion of Christ. 

"Portrait of Naaotwa Swayne," chosen by the Artbook, is a 20" x 24" portrait of a young woman completed in 1988. Aitchison chose to use mostly African and West Indian sitters because he preferred the warm flesh tones, which he has painted very well in this piece. The simplified figure seems to glow against the green/black background, and though incorporating ideas of abstraction, Aitchison still retains figurative aspects and a strong sense of personality in the piece. The most fascinating part of this piece for me is the style applied to the oil paint- it appears almost chalky, like pastel or conte. Certainly he must have only applied thin coats of paint, as the luminosity from the canvas shines through in the skin tone. 

My next choice is one of his Crucifixions. "Crucifixion 9," (1987, above) is a truly original depiction of the archetype and can be seen at the Tate Museum. Aitchison chose to shift the focus from subject to style; instead of drawing meaning from the action of the painting, the viewer looks to shape and color to set the mood. Also- in simplification of his subject, Aitchison chose not to include Christ's arms, for which his reasoning was "everybody knows who he is. He doesn't need arms." This goes further to show the arbitrariness of the actual figure of Christ; usually the most important aspect of a biblical painting, Aitchison's Christ doesn't even need arms in his painting to achieve its purpose. Also, the dog is a really interesting choice in this. No followers of Christ are displayed, neither are his crucifiers, yet there is a dog, possibly symbolizing compassion and loyalty. He used this somewhat iconic image of the dog in a lot of his other pieces, as well.

"Model Standing on a Blue Wall," shown above, is an earlier painting of Aitchison's (1962) that also hangs at the Tate. I really liked this painting's composition- very simple, yet very effective in drawing the viewer in and giving a true to form impression of the subject. The flatness and depth of this painting gives evidence of his modern artistic training, and the overall depiction and composition are reminiscent of some of Picasso's portraits. I really love the large, simplistic blocks of color in the background, and the delicate treatment of the subject itself. Beautiful painting. 

Aitchison now spends most of his time living in a London estate that he's owned for over 35 years. His works hang at the Tate, though he has had some retrospective traveling exhibits recently. Some of his newer pieces are shown below.

Nandi Bull in front of Temple I, 2000

Crucifixion with Mountain, Montecastelli, 2002

BAS JAN ADER

Bas Jan Ader was a Dutch artist (nee 1942) who spent the majority of his lifetime producing work in LA. Much like Acconci, Ader focused his career on film, photography, performance, and installation. Ader was most prolific during the 1970s, and is grouped with the conceptual artists of the time period. A lot of his pieces strongly depend on the strange dynamic created amongst audience and performer. Ader also explored ideas of emotional vulnerability on display; in particular, themes of searching, falling, and embarking on journeys prevailed in his pieces. As many artists do, Bas Jan Ader chose an art of self-depiction, psychological portrayals, and introspection of the human condition. 

(this is not meant to have sound)

The piece that the Artbook chose to use, and is probably his most famous, is a film still from the above performance, "I'm too sad to tell you." In a graphic display of human grief, Ader films himself up close crying in silence. No storyline. No dialogue. No explanation. I've found a number of interesting reviews on this piece; the Artbook gravitates towards a more serious and somber critique- highlighting the effects of Ader's loneliness and despair on his audience. According to the book, he created postcards of the film stills and mailed them out to his friends, informing them that this was real, raw emotion, completely genuine. He did not give a reason. Meant to be disturbing? Maybe not. Another review suggests that there is an underlying tone of irony, even dark comedy. 

There are two pieces in particular that I found alluring. The first is an installation entitled "Please don't leave me," in which these words are scrawled largely in black paint and illuminated by a central lightbulb. This piece is incredibly moving; the phrase speaks of a universal fear of emptiness and alienation. Please don't leave me, simultaneously silent and screaming, is a muted cry for companionship that falls on deaf ears. Though the audience may not want to, they inevitably must walk away, leaving the plea behind them. This interplay between what Ader is asking and what he knows will undeniably happen is an incredibly powerful example of one of the many human conditions we all must grapple with. In the end, the audience must come to terms with their own solitude and the unmovable barriers to human connection. Truly amazing piece.

The work shown directly above is the culmination of all Bas Jan Ader's work: his death. Ader set sail in 1975 from Massachusetts in a performance piece he called, "In Search Of The Miraculous." Whether planned or unplanned remains a mystery, yet Ader never returned from this trip. Two weeks into the voyage his radio cut out, and soon after his ship was found abandoned on the coast of Ireland. This mysterious end to his life could be considered yet a mere extension of his greatest accomplishments as an artist; in searching for the "miraculous," he found death. Ader never failed to incorporate his life in his art, and even in death crafted a beautiful performance, reminding his audience that life is a continual series of journeys, one leading to another, with death not being an ending but instead another commencement of exploration. 

If you find Ader's obscure death interesting, you should also check out Ray Johnson. He is not mentioned in the Artbook, but was an incredibly influential artist of the 50s and 60s. He lead an amazing life, and is worth reading up on.

Finally, there is a documentary on Ader that I will be watching today entitled Here Is Always Somewhere Else. If you like Ader's work, I recommend you watch it, too.

VITO ACCONCI

Vito Acconci, born in the Bronx in 1940, is an architect and artist whose works crosses from performance, film, video, photography, and installation. He began his career as a writer, and made his way onto the art scene with his performance art in the late 60s/ early 70s. Acconci made over 20 films and videos involving performance and tense audience interaction within a period of six years, from 1969 to 1975, with the pinnacle of these performances being "Seedbed" (above). This performance made the cover page in the Artbook, and is probably one of Acconci's most renowned work. In "Seedbed," Acconci sits huddled underneath a landing in an empty studio, masturbating to the sounds of and thoughts towards the gallery viewers above him. He strives to create a complex web of interaction between viewer and artist. One comment of his on the performance that I found particularly interesting I found (via wikipedia) in an interview with Brian Sherwin for his blog Myartspace. He told Sherwin, "I knew what my goal had to be: I had to produce seed, the space I was in should become a bed of seed, a field of seed – in order to produce seed, I had to masturbate – in order to masturbate, I had to excite myself."

In researching Acconci, I found one of many answers to a question I had been pondering for quite some time: why are film and video classified differently? In Vito's opinion, "film is landscape, video is close-up; film is silent, video is sound; film is history, video is news; film is physical, video is mental." In his terms, film is the direct expression of world around us, in which the audience is viewing the world through the eyes of the artist, whereas video is an inner dialogue; conversely, the audience is looking in at the artist. Whether this is a widely accepted differentiation between film and video, who knows. I think it's a pretty interesting take, regardless.

There is definitely something to be said about his architecture, as well. Based in Brooklyn, Acconci heads a group of architects who have designed interior and exterior spaces throughout the world.

 I'm not sure if the actual studio is open to the public, but the address on its website is 20 Jay Street, #215. Definitely could be something to check out. 

THE 20TH CENTURY ARTBOOK

"More than any other era, the twentieth century offered us an unrivalled galaxy of styles and approaches to art."

I've created this blog to keep myself, and anyone following me, up to date on artists of the 20th century. I recently picked up a book at the Met called "The 20th Century Artbook," published by Phaidon, in which 500 nameable artists of the 20th century are listed alphabetically. Each day I plan on posting about one artist from this book, finding my favorite image by them, and anything else relevant.