Monday 16 November 2015

The press preview of the Francisco Goya retrospective at the National Gallery, London.

by  Flora Alexandra  I  digiQualia.com


7th October - 10th January 2015 
The Sackler Wing’s latest retrospective celebrates the revered artist Francisco Goya, a Spanish romantic painter who worked during the 18th and 19th centuries. A chronicler of his era, his portraits and wartime canvases are world-renowned. Goya captured the characters of his subjects, making no effort to beautify or embellish their appearances, which was unheard of at the time. Harking back to Keats’s declaration that, “beauty is truth, truth beauty,” his subjects’ personalities shine through, whether woeful or elated. Although, critics like Jeremy Paxman - in his ArtFund interview - have continued to debate whether Goya mocked or merely rendered his subjects true to form. There’s no doubt that every painting illustrates both technical skill and aesthetic concern, but I found there to be something awkward about the way he leaves each work, as if there’s something crucial missing. In comparison to his fellow Spaniard Velazquez’s retrospective in Paris this summer, I fear that Goya’s portraiture is somewhat inferior.  

                  General Nicolas Philippe Guye, 1810
                  General Nicolas Philippe Guye, 1810

Walking from end to beginning to avoid the crowds, we were impressed by the National Gallery’s bold choice of Egyptian or prussian blue walls, which intensified Goya’s colour palette. Although we were soon to be underwhelmed by his portrait of Juan de Villanueva, 1800-5, which gave the impression of idleness as the shoulders sloped off into nihility. Only the sincerity in the popping buttons of the waistcoat gave it any sort of charm. We then encountered the ill-fated Ferdinand VII 1814-15 whose sartorial flare was defeated by his depiction as an intensely unattractive, stout little man. Although Paxman declared this to be representative of Goya’s negative feelings for Ferdinand, one wonders whether he was simply unattractive.
Of the liberals and despots, General Nicolas Philippe Guye, 1810 was the Adonis, who lifted the mood of the room. Not only was his bone structure particularly tempting, but his lavish uniform boasted an array of glittering decorations, which showed off Goya’s technical skill. As we moved through to the final rooms, I must admit that I rather liked the scripted underlying many of the portraits, which broke the illusion and made the paintings seem more textured. 

                   Caspar Melchor de Jovellanos
                   Caspar Melchor de Jovellanos

Having interned in the auction houses, I tend to assume that amidst the Old Master works there is always a muse or scorned lover waiting in the wings. None so obvious as the exhibition’s centerpiece, the Duchess of Alba 1797, in which she gestures towards Goya’s name written in the sand, publically declaring her lust for him. Given the violent return of Spanish lace in the fashion world, one can’t help, but align this painting with the endless Dolce and Gobanna campaigns adorning all forms of public transport. It’s always interesting to connect contemporary design and Old Master paintings.
As we progressed to paintings of the Spanish Enlightenment, we were astonished by the sight of Caspar Melchor de Jovellanos’s expression of utter boredom in his docile portrait. How a subject could allow himself to be forever preserved in a moment of indigence, I do not know.


The Duke of Osuna’s portrait was far more captivating, because of the exquisite gradation from pthalo to cobalt blue, which was just as you imagine the sky to look as a child. We wandered past Goya’s ethereal portrait of the Duke and Duchess of Osuna, 1788 and their ghostly brood, questioning why the mother lacked any form of bone structure, but the children wore beautiful terraverde fabrics. It baffles me how the faces of so many of Goya’s portraits have faces painted like an afterthought, void of definition, but juxtaposing immensely detailed fabrics and jewels, which prove his capability. I’d recommend you go and see for yourselves, because although the National Gallery put on a well organized, beautifully presented show as always, I fear it was the works themselves, which let it down.
http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/whats-on/exhibitions/goya-portraits
By Flora Alexandra Ogilvy, founder of Arteviste.com

Thursday 5 November 2015

The Afro Basaldella exhibition at Connaught Brown, London

by  Flora Alexandra  I  digiQualia.com


13th October – 17th November
“Like most Italians, Afro knows how to celebrate. The fanciful, ebullient side of his nature emerges in the high-keyed recent paintings—those in which he allowed himself the most freedom and spontaneity to date. In these, he celebrates the delights of senses”                                        Dore Ashton, Afro, 1955 in Art Digest.

Alongside exhibitions of Lucio Fontana and Alberto Burri’s work in Mayfair this month, we now have another post war Italian painter joining the ranks. Afro Basaldella’s exhibition has just opened at the Connaught Brown gallery on Albemarle Street, London. Despite it being the night before the Frieze art fair’s private view, the gallery was overflowing with collectors, painters and the darlings of the London art world. I must admit that with Afro’s emotionally charged Via Dell’Anima, 1962 in the window, it proved all too tempting to sneak in for a look. The work, with its atmospheric, grisaille colour palette and heavy brushstrokes was verging on a seascape, but with the abstraction to give it an air of mystery. As further demonstrated by this later work, the early stages of Afro’s stylistic development in the late 1940s were heavily influenced by Paul Klee and Cubism. However, you could tell from the profound looks of those who surveyed it, it wasn’t being viewed on the level of his other more celebratory, festive works, but in a darker realm. As James Sweeney, a past curator at the MoMa said, “the spirit of his art is festive. Though a wistful note may occasionally creep into his palette, he never strikes a tragic one” – I’m not sure if I agree.


Despite not being particularly well known in London, Afro’s work has a strong reputation across continental Europe. It’s testimony to the innovation of Connaught Brown that he is being exhibited just as Frieze attracts some of the world’s finest collectors to London. The centrepiece of the exhibition was Tiresia, 1975, a beautiful blend of neutrals, with the near figurative shapes of Dali or Picasso entwined. I was rather drawn to the subtlety of the pinks, creams and cobalt blues, which brought a sort of romance to the table, unseen in the rest of his work. Despite his later focus on abstraction, Afro acquired his technical skill as a painter in Florence and Venice, before winning a scholarship to Rome. One might say that in honing his technical skill, he was learning the alphabet in order to be able to truly express himself through abstraction. In the dark, melancholic contortions of Senza Titolo, 1966 you see a sense of nostalgia for more traditional forms of draughtsmanship and painting, which reflect his academic training. The work was beautifully framed, drawing our attention to the diverse array of frames used across the room, making the collective exhibition feel all the more eclectic.




As his reputation developed, Afro’s work was exhibited both at the Rome Quadriennale and the Venice Biennale during his lifetime. In fact, back in World War II he had also brought creativity to a dark period as he taught mosaic-making at that city’s Accademia di Belle Arti. Later, he had travelled to New York and began to reflect his American influences such as the Art Informel movement and the work of Arshile Gorky and Jackson Pollock. Pollock is reflected in the spontaneity of the mixed media work Villa Horizon, 1959. There was an intensity and anger to it, which only served to magnify the depth of feeling across all of Afro’s compositions. With bold and brutal strokes of scarlet hues combined with the blacks and greys, the viewers who stood before it all seemed captivated by its energy. This was finished soon after painting a mural for the UNESCO headquarters in Paris in 1958 where both Picasso and Miro had previously worked. Only a few years later he was honoured with the Guggenheim award in New York, before he settled in Florence to teach at the traditional Florence Academy, where my companion – an artist himself – had studied recently. The art world may be moving fast, but some things never change.  




By Flora Alexandra Ogilvy, founder of Arteviste.com.