Lucian Freud

Claire Brentnall

Another sad loss for the art world this year with the death of Lucian Freud. Always prolific, always controversial, Freud may be best remembered for his visceral, fleshy nudes, his achingly stark portraits, or his shockingly ‘unflattering’ (or so labelled by the tabloids) depiction of the Queen. Personally, I will always remember Freud for a painting that may at first glance appear rather ‘un-Freudian’ (or at least when referring to Lucian’s aesthetic).

It was on a visit to the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, that I first came across the painting Interior at Paddington. Before reading the label and discovering its creator, I was intrigued by the bizarre, rather awkward scene. A large plant dominates the right hand side of the picture, whilst a stern gentleman stands, seemingly poised for action with fist clenched, to the left. Staring intently at something, or someone past the plant and outside of the frame, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen next.

This suspense: a glimpsed preliminary moment to some unknown event, made me feel uncomfortable, as did Freud's depiction of the the dagger-like leaves, the snagged blood-red carpet and the man’s ‘get-set’ stance.

The Walker Galllery website suggests that Freud was mirroring Holbein’s full-length portraits of Henry VIII in terms of the posturing of the man at Paddington, replacing Henry VIII’s elegant gloves with a lit cigarette. Perhaps though, in front of this painting, I began mirroring its uncomfort, its unease. Indeed, Lucian Freud is quoted to have said that "the task of the artist is to make the human being uncomfortable", and this is something that he most certainly achieved time and time again throughout his inexhaustible career, with his often shocking and in-your-face pictures. The work of Lucian Freud, and this painting in particular however, I find, offers a certain type of enjoyable unease: an uncomfortable, adrenaline fuelled pleasure, like getting 'on your mark' at the start of a race, or anticipating the twist in a plot.

Leonora Carrington

Claire Brentnall

One of my favourite artists, Leonora Carrington has sadly died aged 94. A painter, sculptor and writer, Carrington worked closely with Mexican artist Remedios Varo after moving to Mexico in the 1960s. Before her emigration, Carrington was linked to the Surrealists and is well-known for her relationship with Max Ernst.

Alchemy was something that Carrington explored through her artwork and writing, but in an altogether different way to the males of the Surrealist movement. Alchemy paired with the erotic was seen as a fitting model on which to base the union of opposites of men and women by male artists of the Surrealist movement, in order to exploit the female spiritual connection with the unconscious and advocate traditional views of the active male and submissive female. Contradictory to the male utilisation of alchemical symbolism, Carrington’s paintings, much like those of Varo, distinctly lack the portrayal of sexual interaction. Instead, she chose to create her own esoteric symbolic discourse in order to portray the magical creativity of woman.

The wonderful painting Kitchen Garden on the Eyot was created in Mexico around the time of the birth of Carrington’s first son. Her newfound familial role in Mexico, including her marriage to Enrique “Chiqui” Weisz had a great positive effect on her life, and instead of restricting her artistic output she took inspiration from the domestic duties she had to perform. She incorporated family life, cooking and her occult interests to simultaneously elevate painting and ‘woman’s work’ to magical acts. This was a notion that informed her esoteric pictorial language for many years, as Carrington did not simply reject the roles of mother and wife, but imbued this lifestyle with magical significance.

Subsequently, Carrington is often considered as being a positive model for female artists, moving away from a simple polarisation of male and female and moving towards a notion, supported by feminist writer Shoshanna Felman, of viewing male and female within separate, unique frameworks.