I was privileged to view this exhibition this morning, and I came away quite emotionally affected.
You can find a virtually definitive review of the exhibition, organized by the Tate Gallery of London, by Richard Dorment of the London Daily Telegraph at
Dorment is not a sentimental reviewer. He casts a cold eye on the physical infirmities that beset the artist in the last 16 years of his life, the period from which the works shown were painted. After reading Dorment's catalog of those infirmities and the deficiencies in various of the works they must have caused, I cannot change the reaction I had when exiting the show. Turner was already rich and famous, and he continued to paint the same subjects that he had always portrayed. Dorment says that the last three works in the exhibition - showy, bravado pieces based on stories of Aeneas and Dido were insincere theater. Dorment says "They are dreadfully overworked, and overcrowded to the point of incoherence. Yet Turner exhibited them at the Royal Academy in 1850, implying that these were kinds of pictures by which he wished to be judged, not those light filled washes of colour we all love, which may, after all, simply be unfinished."
Well, maybe and notwithstanding, I loved the paintings, and I came away with the same feelings I had when many years ago when I saw a show of Matisse's cut-outs done when his hands were so arthritic that he could barely hold a scissors. I was wet-eyed after the Matisse and in awe of the sheer dedication to art and his never-give-up production in the face of great pain. I did not well-up today, but I emerged with a strong feeling for the guts and fervor shown by Turner, this sick and pained artist, until the very end.
If you admire heroism against great odds, see the show while it's still up. The visual delights are an extra gift.
No comments:
Post a Comment