BACON • FREUD • KITAJ

 

"Quite often I wanted to hit people. . . "

Lucian Freud has maintained a scrupulous silence about his private life - until now.

In conversation with Sebastian Smee and David Dawson

The Sunday Telegraph - 24 September, 2006

 

bacon and freud
Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud in Soho 1974
photograph © Harry Diamond
The Leicester Galleries, London

 

On Francis Bacon

DD: When did you meet Francis Bacon?

LF: I was friendly with [the painter] Graham Sutherland, and used to go down and see him in Kent. Being young and extremely tactless, I said to him: 'Who do you think is the best painter in England?' which, of course, he felt himself to be, and was beginning to be regarded to be. He said, 'Oh, someone you'd never have heard of. He's the most extraordinary man. He spends his time gambling in Monte Carlo, and then occasionally he comes back. If he does a picture, he generally destroys it,' and so on. He sounded so interesting. So I wrote to him, or called round, and that's how I met him.

SS: How did Bacon strike you as a person when you first met him?

LF: Really admirable. I'll give you a simple example: I used to have a lot of fights. It wasn't because I liked fighting; it was really just that people said things to me to which I felt the only reply was to hit them. If Francis was there, he'd say, 'Don't you think you ought to try and charm them?' And I thought, 'Well!' Before that, I never really thought about my 'behaviour', as such - I just thought about what I wanted to do and I did it. And quite often I wanted to hit people. Francis wasn't didactic in any way. But it could be said that if you're an adult, hitting someone is really a shortcoming, couldn't it? I mean, there should be some other way of dealing with it.

1952
Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud in Bacon's studio, 1953
Photograph by Daniel Farson


SS: Did you feel that he affected you in your work, as well?

LF: I realised that his work related immediately to how he felt about life. Mine, on the other hand, seemed very laboured. That was because it was a terrific lot of labour for me to do anything - and still is. Francis, on the other hand, would have ideas which he put down and then destroyed and then quickly put down again. It was his attitude that I admired. The way he was completely ruthless about his own work. After all, nearly any artist I've ever encountered has a bit of a soft spot about their own work. With Francis, there was nothing like that.

DD: So you started seeing each other nearly every day?

LF: Yes. He had this wonderful studio, which had been Millais'. There was a man - a very high-powered businessman, very severe, very good-looking - who kept him there. The man was married with children. He loathed me, probably because he thought, wrongly, that Francis had some kind of relationship with me. Francis liked to say, 'I'm only attracted by men at least 30 years older than me.' But there came a time, rather a lot later, when he said, 'The awful thing is that now the people older than me are too old to do anything.'

DD: Would he let you look at his paintings, ones that weren't finished, when you went around to his studio? He wouldn't turn them to the wall?

LF: No, but he would slash them sometimes. Or say how he was really fed up and felt they were no good, and destroy them. He could be in a pretty bad mood for short periods of time.

DD: How long would it take him to make a painting?

LF: Sometimes I'd go round in the afternoon and he'd say, 'I've done something really extraordinary today.' And he'd done it all in that day. Amazing. He always said he didn't know what he was doing.

SS: Did he have things to say about your work?

LF: I'd have thought he was completely uninterested. But I don't know. When my work started getting some notice, he turned bitchy. What he really minded was that I started getting rather high prices. He'd suddenly turn and say, 'Of course, you've got lots of money.' Which was strange, because before then, for a long, long time, I'd depended on him and others for money. In those days, he'd simply say, 'I've got rather a lot of these' - a bundle of bank notes - 'I thought you might like some of them.' It would make a complete difference to me for three months.

deakin
Lunch at Wheeler's Restaurant (1962)
photograph by John Deakin © 1962

wheelers
Left to right: Timothy Behrens, Lucian Freud,
Francis Bacon, Frank Auerbach and Michael Andrews


SS: Did he become especially wild or aggressive when he drank?

LF: He didn't become aggressive. He drank, but he was extraordinarily disciplined. When he was working he wouldn't drink, and would usually stay in. But sometimes he went out to Soho, where I'd meet him at half past twelve. He'd have started work at half past seven or eight in the morning. But now he'd drink and get people around him. Some would be incredibly boring, but he'd get them to talk in the most amazing way. He'd go up to strangers - a businessman in a City suit, for instance - and say, 'It's pointless being so quiet and pompous. After all, we only live once and we should be able to discuss everything. Tell me, what are your sexual preferences?' Quite often in such cases, the man would join us for lunch, and Francis would absolutely charm him and make him drunk, and somehow just change his life a bit. Of course, you can't bring out things in people that aren't there - but I was amazed at what there was!

SS: What happened towards the end with Francis Bacon? You fell out, didn't you?

LF: Yes. He had a boyfriend - an ex-fighter pilot who, since Francis had got older and his tastes had changed, was younger than he was. He really fell in love with him. He was a rich fighter pilot, or certainly well off, and he was sadistic, which Francis liked. He knocked Francis about and beat him up. Once, when I saw Francis, one of his eyes was hanging out and he was covered in scars. I didn't really understand the relationship - after all, you don't. But I was so upset seeing him like this that I got hold of the pilot's collar and twisted it around. He would never have hit me because he was a 'gentleman' - do you see? - he would never get in a fight. The violence between them was a sexual thing. I didn't really understand all this. Anyway, I didn't talk to Francis for about three or four years after that. The truth is, Francis really minded about this man more than anyone.

SS: Were you on good terms when he died?

LF: Yes. But his character had changed, which I think was to do with alcohol. It was impossible to disagree with him about anything. He wanted admiration and didn't mind where it came from. To some degree he lost his quality. His manners were still marvellous, though. He would go into a shop or restaurant and people were absolutely charmed.

© Telegraph Media Group Limited

Quite often I wanted to hit people   the nonist

Remard the cat: March 2007   Old/New Friends

leicester galleries   alex alien art

 

 pass cursor over image
bacon by freud
Francis Bacon (1952)
17.8 x 12.8 cm, oil on copper
Collection of Tate Gallery, London
Copyright © Lucian Freud


MORE HERE

 

 

FRANCIS BACON (1909-1992)

baconself
Self Portrait (1969)
oil on canvas, 14" x 12"
collection of Damien Hirst
$33 million at Sotherby's

 

        SELECTED FRANCIS BACON LINKS:

The Estate of Francis Bacon
Tribute to Francis Bacon | page 2
Francis Bacon SlideShow
Francis Bacon Links
The School of London
The Colony Room
Ron B. Kitaj | The Human Clay
Paintings Influenced by Francis Bacon

Hugh Lane Gallery: Francis Bacon Studio

UVUWEB - Film & Video: Francis Bacon
    video: The South Bank Show 1985 (avi file)
Art Gallery of Alex Alien
Described Thoughts: Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon
Le bac a sabel: Freud and Bacon in workshops...
photo: Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud, 1952
photo: Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud, 1953
photos: Bruce Bernard: Nattional Gallery of Scotland
Talking with Edward Lucie Smith
O Mundo de Claudia: Oedipus and Sphinx
George Szirtes

 

 

"I only paint portraits of myself because there's no one else around."

 


'The Wall' (detail)
Portrait of Francis Bacon, 3
© 2008 Scattergood-Moore
". . . if you look at walls covered with many stains . . . with the idea of imagining some scene, you will see in it a similarity to landscapes adorned with mountains, rivers, rocks, tree, plains, broad vallerys, and hills of all kinds. You may also see in it battles and figures with lively gestures and strange faces and costumes and an infinity of things which you can reduce to separate and complex forms. And with these walls . . . it is as with the sound of bells; in their ringing you may find all the sounds and words that you wish to imagine."
Leonardo da Vinci, 1492

 

Portrait of Francis Bacon
34" x 42" charcoal drawing
by Scattergood-Moore

press image to enlarge

bacon
A TRIBUTE TO FRANCIS BACON

slide show

 

 

R. B. KITAJ (1932-2007)

 

"The artist, clothed in a red gown, at work in this painting looks as if he is some kind of wizard. The life-sized female figure, whose lower body extends outside the canvas, appears as if she is receiving the life force through the wizard's magic. The highly descriptive nature of the drawing indicates the artist's outstanding skills in this area, while the surface qualities of the boldly painted bright colors are one of the most typical characteristics of Kitaj's art." The Hoam Museum, Korea

view The Artist (1996) oil on canvas

 

the jew

"THE JEW, ETC." 1976-1979
oil and charcoal on canvas, 152.4 x 122 cm
© 2001 R.B. Kitaj, Marborough Gallery, New York

"The Jew, Etc. is the first picture that is about Kitaj's fictive figure Joe Singer. He is Kitaj's metaphor for the survivors of the Shoah. The historical event is turned into a current issue. The traumatic experiences are transferred into the present. The picture of the Jew in a train compartment visualizes the physical and mental restriction of the Diaspora. The crampedness of the compartment is passed on to the introverted person in the picture. The hearing aid stresses the isolation. Being on the move, in this case traveling on a train, is in Kitaj's sign system a symbol for the state of restlessness Jews were in. The picture of the wandering Jew who is driven from one place to another. The only safe place to escape to is the world of thoughts."

The Legacy Project | Holocaust | The Jew, etc.

Kitaj is aware that a Jew who paints figures has crossed a proscribed line, has violated a rule against making graven images. He even dares to contemplate painting God, a transgression of Hebraic law, although not of Christian (thus, for encouragement in this exercise, he turns to William Blake and various Italian painters). Perhaps as a kind of compensation for such defiance, Kitaj also spends a good deal of time concentrating on Cabbalism, the mystical study of the Hebraic scriptures which emerged among Jews in Spain in the 1300s. The Cabbalist employs the Hebrew alphabet as a lens through which to glimpse the Names of God, a means of piercing the veil of the sacred. Kitaj is especially concerned with a variation on Cabbalism developed by the Spanish Mystc Ramon Lull, whose aim was to categorize, and thereby comprehend, the entire cosmos.

fron the blog: Remembering Art: RB Kitaj

•   •   •   •   •   •

"Kitaj draws better than almost anyone else," Robert Hughes

"I draw as well as any Jew who ever lived." - R. B. Kitaj


•   •   •   •   •   •

While Kitaj's former friend and neighbor, the painter Francis Bacon (now dead), actively mirrored the century's tendency toward senseless violence in the twisted, smeared, and flayed flesh of his figures, Kitaj, rather, has endeavored to refract his times. Like the traveler gazing out the train window in the unfinished, almost monochromatic "The Jew Etc." (1976), we are all exiles, cast into an uncertain pilgrimage wherein we act out our "own unfinish." Against this diaspora, and against the obdurate fact of the Holocaust, Kitaj places our "elective affinities," the friendships and families we forge in the midst of loss and horror. In a world where the center will not hold, Kitaj turns for succor to those who, faced with the violence that is the world's constant refrain, themselves affirm life in their writing and painting, in their allegiances and convictions. To glimpse homages and icons in Kitaj's paintings, ghosts of others who went before, is to see what may be the only beauty vouchsafed us on our doomed journey through an alien countryside.

from: RB Kitaj and the Art of Memory by Gina Maranto

 

kitaj
Synchromy with F.B. • General of Hot Desire (1968-69)
Diptych: oil on canvas, 152.5 x 91.5 cm per panel
Private Collection, London

      Left panel: Synchromy wlth F.B. (Francis Bacon);
      Right panel: The General of Hot Desire from Shakespeare's Sonnet CLIV:

The little Love-god lying once asleep,
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep
The fairest votary took up that fire
Which many legions of true hearts had warmed;
And so the General of hot desire
Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarmed.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy,
For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,
Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.

"Synchromy with F.B. - General of Hot Desire (1968/9) . . . contains certain conjunctions of image, the meanings of which are not readily apparent, but these serve to embellish what in the first instance is a clear statement of homage to a painter Kitaj has long admired, Francis Bacon. One needs only the most basic familiarity with Bacon's work and its homosexual eroticism to appreciate the mischievous inclusiion of a disturbingly disjointed and overtly sexual female nude. What continues to come over most powerfully is the massive presence of the figures themselves, nearly life-size and enveloped in an environment of luscious colour." (Marco Livingstone)

 

human clay

THE HUMAN CLAY
An exhibition selected by RB Kitaj
Arts Council of Great Britian, 1976
view contents here

 

R.B. Kitaj who has just died was a literary kind of painter which was one reason certain art critics did not like him and poured scorn on him in his later career, but he was an excellent draughtsman and a gorgeous colourist. To his critics he seemed heavy and somehow pushy, a man of dense intelligence leaning on a paintbrush. To me, and to figurative but non-representative artists, he was a kind of difficult beacon. He was a friend of Hockney's, but whereas Hockney remained light and decorative and witty, Kitaj felt the weight (there goes that heaviness again) of history. Germanic rather than French and certainly not English. No lyrical nostalgia, no enchanted grove, no vanished empire, just a luminous truculence.

 

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kitaj

image 1: "THE NEO-CUBIST," 1976-87
oil on canvas, 70" x 52"
The Saatchi Collection, London

image 2: "DAVID," (unfinished), 1976-77
oil & charcoal on canvas, 72" x 60"

 

". . . I began the portrait of Hockney in the 'seventies. I didn't care much for it, and it lay in storage for many years. In the later 'eighties, David described to me the death of his friend Isherwood in California. I took up the old portrait again and drew a kind of alter-figure across the original full-frontal one, with Chris Isherwood in mind. Like Hockney, and unlike me, he had been a very optimistic and sublime personality, so I made of them a sort of Cubist doppelganger, representing both life and death in the particular, widely perspectival California setting they made their own in exile and, I hope, in some harmony with David's recent neo-Cubist theory for pictures."

from R.B. Kitaj's statement in: Exhibition Road, 1988

"The Neo-Cubist is Kitaj's most astute comment on the state of painting today. It pokes gentle fun at artists' aspirations to follow on where the Cubists left off, but also it shows how painting has evolved in the last seventy-five years. Between 1976 and 1987 Hockney, a close friend ever since their first year at the Royal College together, has been experimenting with photo-montages and prints. These works have been heralded by some as the natural successors to the great Cubist masterpieces. Kitaj as been doing the same in oils. In The Neo-Cubist Hockney is dislocated in a Cubist manner to reveal more sides than normally possible on a two-dimensional surface, but the painting is not restricted by the rules of Cubism. It shows Hockney stepping out from a mammoth egg shape. He floats in a landscape rich with references to Matisse, other Kitaj works, and his own Splash paintings.

Kitaj as usual is best at describing his own imagery. 'The "egg" shape,' he writes, 'is my mimicry of that grey Cubist ellipse which sometimes frames classical analytic Cubist compositions. I meant the lush plant life to stand for the artificial garden paradise one finds in Los Angeles, and in Hockney's own garden there. I began the painting as a nude (of D. H.) about twelve years ago. It had been in storage all these years - then a year or so ago, when his dear friend Isherwood died and Hockney related his last days and hours to me, I got the old failed painting out in order to transform it, with Isherwood's ghost dislocating (as you say) Hockney's form, after his newfound Neo-Cubism . . . I even gave Hockney bathing trunks (barely) . . .'

Hockney's many arms are firmly bound to his side. He is tied by the limitations of his art. Though he shares aims with Picasso, Braque, and Hockney, Kitaj is not a Neo-Cubist. His paintings demonstrates the ultimate failure of Cubism to resolve its spatial context. He doesn't rely on a distortion of perspective; he doesn't attempt to physically force an extra dimension into the canvas. He simply places the contrasting thoughts, references, and experiences on one canvas."

The School of London: the resurgence of contemporary painting
by Alistair Hicks
Phaidon Press Limited, Oxford, 1989

 



RON B. KITAJ
Two London Painters, 1979
(Frank Auerbach and Sandra Fisher)
pastel and charcoal on paper, 33" x 30 1/4"

 

In 1997, three years after the tragic and unexpected death of his wife Sandra Fisher at the age of 47, Kitaj returned to live in the United States and London lost one of its most colourful and influential personalities. "He is increasingly reclusive." notes Alistair Hicks in his book on the Saatchi Collection, "Yet through the written word, the telephone and meeting people for lunch, he has frequent contact with many fine minds. He observes the world with a frightening clarity." An exhibition at The National Galllery, London (Novemer 2001 to February 2002) was the first showing of the work of RB Kitaj in London since his controversial retrospective at the Tate Gallery in 1994.

 



SANDRA FISHER
Study for Kitaj in Jerusalem, 1981
charcoal on paper
22 3/8" x 30 1/2"

 

Selected Links:

Ron B. Kitaj | The Human Clay | more
The Legacy Project | Holocaust | The Jew, etc.
The-artists.org: R B Kitaj | Freud
   Bacon | Balthus | Giacometti | Antonio Lopez Garcia
Paintg It Jewish!. Jude Stweart
Who is Buried in Desk Murder?
Vitro Nasu: A Day Book | A Coney Island of the Mind
David Cohen in conversation with R B Kitaj
WebMuseum, Paris: R.B. Kitaj
Wikipedia - R.B. Kitaj

 

Ronald Brooks Kitaj, artist, born October 29 1932; died October 21 2007

R.B. Kitaj, who died on Sunday aged 74, was an American painter domiciled for 40 years in England and became a leading member of the group of artists known (in his own phrase) as The School of London; alongside such contemporaries as Frank Auerbach, Leon Kossoff, Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud he raised the stature of English painting to one of international significance... The Telegraph 24/10/2007

In 1976 Kitaj organised an exhibition called The Human Clay, after Auden's phrase, at the Hayward Gallery that reflected his interest in figurative drawing that attempted to convey "the delineation of the face and fortunes and torments of us all." His introduction to the work of 34 London artists was controversial, but it became a key text in the debate about the purpose of art.

 

'I and Thou' by R.B. Kitaj
I and Thou by R.B. Kitaj (1990)

Kitaj was a connector, an engager, both in the complexity of the themes that he embraced in his painting and in the richness of the social world that he inhabited. He had the old-time bohemian feeling for the life of art as an adventure to be savored, to be approached with a certain deliberateness, and maybe even with a certain sense of ceremony. Whether you were going with him to an exhibition in London or, more recently, after he moved back to the United States, having a glass of juice with him at the little table in his kitchen in Los Angeles, there was a sense that something important might happen--that feelings and ideas were in the air.

Selected Obituaries:
The Daily Telegraph
Michael McNay, The Guardian
Richard Morphet, The Independent
Jed Perl, The New Republic
David Cohen, New York Sun   artcritical.com
Martha Schwendener, New York Tiimes
  Times Online
The Economist
eduardo1dacosta

 

RELATED LINKS
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SCATTERGOOD-MOORE
updated 02-25-08