Bela Tarr
In “Satantango”, his three DVD, 7 hour film, Irimias and Petrina sleep together, like Morecambe and Wise, in a little cubicle, in their overcoats. Petrina covers the sleeping Irimias with a blanket.
When the charismatic Irimias is not there, his disciples lose faith – rightly, of course – and only the faith of Lajos’ wife is unshaken; she does them the disservice of talking them round again. Only Futaki, with his grim, thin, vinegary face, is unconvinced and strikes out alone. I haven’t seen the end yet, however; maybe he comes around again. Another hour or 90 minutes to go.
I’m seeing shades of Beckett and Bunuel in Tarr’s work. I was going to say he stands at the opposite pole of my other obsession, Fellini – but then there are the whales, in “Satyricon” and “The Werckmeister Harmonies”… I suppose what I really like about Tarr is the complete lack of pretension in his work.
An Ordinary Dog, by Gregory Woods
“Jerome”, one of Woods’ poems in the above collection, is clearly based on a painting of the eponymous saint; I can’t decide which one, however. Woods mentions Jerome resting his slippered feet” on the upholstered ribcage of a dormant lion” – I thought the Durer, but no slippers and the lion is a foot or so away from the saint’s feet. Maybe I’m being too literal; one of my many faults. The last line – “Call me trivial but I can hear his stomach rumbling” – reminds me of that poem in Penguin Poetry of the Thirties, “The Progress of Poetry” by Christopher Caudwell:
“In evening’s sacred cool, among my bushes
A Figure was wont to walk. I deemed it an angel.
But look at the footprint. There’s hair between the toes!”
Kurt Schwitters
Just done another umber, alizerin, grey and black panel that looks (intentionally) a bit rough and rugged, like something from the beach at St. Ives, a chunk of sunk rowing boat maybe. I thought of sticking some real wood to it, making it a sculpture or collage at least – then, flicking through an art book, came on Schwitters’ stuff done in the 20’s and a host of others, of course – Burri and Tapies with the sacking – and thought I’d better leave it. There is nothing new under the sun, as I keep finding out – anew every day.
Max Ernst
His sculpture “Capricorne” , of a seated, bull- headed (Minotaur?) figure, flanked by a standing “wife” (Tanning) with a fish-shaped head – actually, the fish looks more like a hammer about to crash down on the bull’s head – holds in his right hand – what? It looks to me like a giant toothbrush, which of course is entirely possible in Ernst’s work. It’s now destroyed, anyway – book doesn’t say how.
The Minotaur
Must be one of the most frequently recurring images in art; I can think of Ernst, Picasso of course, Keith Vaughan, GF Watts… Actually, that’s about it. I’ve just checked and, apart from a load of fantasy comic illustrations and figurines, a Greek vase and a Canova sculpture, I can’t find any others. In film, there’s “Oedipus Rex” and “Satyricon”, of course.
Blackpaint
21.05.11
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