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

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

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

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.

An exclusive interview with the Spanish film director David Victori, winner of the Youtube Your Film Festival 2015

by  Flora Alexandra  I  digiQualia.com

“What if the earth suddenly lost its gravity intermittently and progressively?”

Produced by Ridley Scott and Michael Fassbender, Zero is a new film written and directed by the winner of the Youtube Your Film Festival. The international competition was organised by YouTube and won by the emerging Spanish director David Victori. Exploring Youtube as a new platform for film - which bypasses cinema - Victori’s film is being gradually released as a web series. Produced by Michael Fassbender and Ridley Scott, Zero is a both heart-warming and immensely powerful science-fiction film, which explores themes like gravity, faith and loss.

The writer and director David Victori has previously been cited as one of the ten Spanish directors to watch by Variety Magazine. In the past he has been celebrated for making award-winning films like Reaccion, 2008 and La Culpa, 2010. The Los-Angeles based filmmaker shot to fame when his win of the Youtube Your Film Festival was announced at the Venice Film Festival by Michael Fassbender. His subsequent film Zero explores the simple question of what would happen if the world were to lose gravity and it's immensely beautiful with highly emotive scenes in which both objects and people float into the sky.   

The film follows the story of a father and son in America who find themselves emotionally and physically separated by the world’s loss of gravity. Starring Ryan Eggold as the boy’s father, we watch him search the city for his son in an attempt to console him amidst the death of his mother. The musical score is powerful, as we're carried on their journey, experiencing its highs and lows. The film begins with delicate underwater shots entwined with vignettes of microscopic matter, which immediately give it a scientific feel. In the opening scene the manipulation of light and shadow creates an intensely emotive atmosphere, which continues throughout. Check it out the first episode at https://youtu.be/ws0cOSaD_-k and see for yourself.  

In one sentence, how would you summarise Zero?

Anything is possible, so how can you be sure that gravity won’t fail us tomorrow?

Was there a pivotal moment when you decided to follow your passion for filmmaking?

After watching my family cry at one of my early films being shown in the cinema, I knew that I wanted to follow this path as a filmmaker.

How would you define beauty in 140 characters or less?

Beauty can give you a sense of inner peace from one second to the next.

As a film director, what has been your most inspiring travel experience? 

Living in the middle of nowhere in the Netherlands with a friend changed me a lot. I moved there to write a script, whilst he wrote a book. To be in the middle of the countryside without the distractions of our social lives allowed us to focus only on the writing, which was transformative.

How do you think the film industry will change with YouTube as a new platform for young filmmakers?

It will change in a way that we can’t even imagine, because Youtube is a universal theatre where your creations can be broadcast all over the world. 

There are religious undertones throughout in continuous references to ‘heaven’ and ‘belief', does this reflect your own exploration of faith?  

Yes, Zero for me is my own exploration of faith. When you are face to face with the death of somebody who you love, this always opens a door for exploration. I entered this room to explore and the result is my film Zero.

What message do you hope your audience will take away from Zero?

That we must not take anything for granted.

As a fellow director, what impact did Ridley Scott have upon the realisation of your creative vision for 

Zero?

Although I had the freedom to pursue my own creative vision, Ridley Scott was an inspiration, motivating me to overcome my limits and do my best.

Do you have a scientific background, which inspired you to explore the theme of gravity in Zero?

Nothing, but an unlimited curiosity about how the Universe works. Not knowing anything allowed me to ask those elemental, stupid questions like ‘what would happen if gravity failed?’

Social media as a digital platform has changed the film industry, but how has it had a positive impact on your work? 

Social media changed my life, because the votes of strangers won me the Youtube Your Film Festival – it changed my life. 

As it’s a science fiction film, what technical challenges did you have to overcome whilst directing Zero?

We were trying to reach a high level of aesthetic quality without an unlimited budget. In order to have both actors and objects flying over the city, we needed to think creatively.

What advice would you give to a young person following in your footsteps as a film director?

Shoot, shoot and shoot. You will only be able to learn and understand yourself as a director if you shoot enough to be able to show the world your inner universe.

Social media as a digital platform has changed the film industry, but how has it had a positive impact on your career as a filmmaker?

Social media changed my life, because the votes of strangers won me the Youtube Your Film Festival – it changed my life.

As both an experienced actor and producer, how did Michael Fassbender contribute to the writing and directing of Zero?

Over one lunch we were looking over the script together and he passed on so much good advice from his experience of working with amazing directors.

How did you manipulate both the natural and artificial light to make the cinematography within Zero so evocative?

I had the honour of working with one of the best directors of photographers in Spain, Daniel Aranyó. We had a lot of conversations about the light and the emotion in every scene. As an artist, he really understood the heart behind the story. He was responsible for the beautiful fusion of natural and artificial light.

What film do you think every child should watch as they come of age?

Inside out, Stand by me or Cinema Paradiso.

Following your collaboration with Scott and Fassbender, who would you most like to collaborate with next and why?

There are so many people I could learn from, so let’s see what life gives me next.  

On your journey thus far, have you ever had a moment when you questioned your career entirely?

No, not yet, I think it’s too early in my career.

The musical score is particularly evocative, but how involved were you in that aspect of the filmmaking process?

The musical score is a very important part for me. The composer Miquel Coll and I have had a long relationship, because he’s worked on me with all of my projects. He’s just as emotional as me and we both invest a lot in the process, working on every detail, movement and sound.

Despite being LA-based, how has Spanish culture influenced the films you make?

On a conscious level, I’m not sure, but there’s something there. I will start to understand that slowly over the next few years.

In the final video, Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam is referenced in the touching of hands, how influential has fine art been upon the rest of the film?

Most of my references are made on a subconscious level, because I like not knowing where ideas come from. I trust my intuition and like to let it work without any interference.

Interview by Flora Alexandra Ogilvy, the London-based art journalist and founder of www.arteviste.com 

The Highlights of the Frieze Masters Art Fair in Regent's Park, London

by  Flora Alexandra  I  digiQualia.com

As always, Frieze Masters was an elegant affair. Each stand was carefully curated and painted in delicate hues of charcoal, dove grey and white. Despite the regulated colour palettes of the walls, the fair couldn’t be accused of monotony given the juxtaposition of both classical and contemporary works composed before the millennium. With immersive installations like Gallery Hyundai’s Untitled (TV and Stone) and Helly Nahmad’s Mental Asylum imbued with opera music, there was an unexpected spotlight on conceptuality. I was particularly impressed by the efforts of multiple galleries to make their artwork multi-sensory as they combined both visual and aural experience. Inevitably we immersed ourselves in the curiosities of Frieze London too, but Frieze Masters was arguably more distinguished in terms of both caliber and aesthetic experience. Although, perhaps as intriguing as the works themselves were the swathes of art world glitterati, wandering its aisles in ceaseless black as if fashion week had never ended.

Given my fascination with the representation of female sexuality in art, I was captivated by Tom Wesselmann’s Great American Nude 31 at the Aquavella Gallery. With the symbolic Mona Lisa juxtaposing the erotic figure in the foreground, Wesselmann entwined elements of both classical and modern art in his celebration of the female nude. Illustrating the eclectic nature of Frieze Masters, this provocation was followed by a stroll in Netherlandish fields as we visited the Dutch Old Master dealer Johnny Van Haeften. Our host challenged the boundaries of the Old Masters by consolidating visual and aural stimulation within the music he commissioned to accompany Van Cleve’s Wedding Procession. As with the National Gallery’s offbeat Soundscapes exhibition, the audience stood hypnotized by the charm of the church bells, blowing wind and laughter. I was also taken with the Dutch painter Simon Pieterz Verelst’s kaleidoscopic Still Life of Flowers in a Case, reminiscent of the Fitzwilliam, Cambridge’s wildly romantic flower room.

As a fierce defender of Egon Schiele and his violent contortions, I was besotted with the collection of his works exhibited by the Richard Nagy gallery. As if we’d strolled into an ancient schloss, they’d adorned the walls of a makeshift Austrian dining room with the painter’s perverse studies of the female form. Continuing the figurative theme, we crossed into Marlborough Fine Art’s beautifully curated stand, which reminded us that the wonder of Frieze is the proximity of so many of the world’s leading galleries. Their intimate collection of Frank Auerbach’s expressionistic portraits aligned with Tate Britain’s critically acclaimed exhibition, almost challenging it. Having spent the morning inside the Elephant Hotel studio of the young British artists Jack Penny and Hugo Hamper Potts - both influenced by Auerbach’s aesthetic - I was all the more captivated by the intensity of his heavy brushstrokes. Evocative as ever, his melancholic portrait of Charlotte Porto, 1982 caught my attention along with J.Y.M seated II, 1996, which was somewhat reminiscent of a serene Richard Diebenkorn landscape.

Reflecting the abstraction we experienced at Connaught Brown’s compelling Afro Barsadella show a few days ago, I was moved by the Hungarian artist Simon Hantai’s Tabula, 1980 at Mayfair’s beloved Timothy Taylor Gallery. It was a simple, but emotive piece, bursting with energy and colour. As we wandered into Axel Vervoordt’s Belgian gallery, we were bewitched by the dynamism of the Japanese painter Kazuo Shiraga’s Seiku Sacred Dog. Painted by the artist’s feet as he hung suspended above the canvas, you could visibly see the movement, which he’d pushed into the paint. As Florentine potter Jenny Min and I progressed towards the Hellenic sculptures from antiquity at the Cahn gallery, we were distracted by the sentimental paintings of porcelains hiding amongst the old masters, which took us back to Tuscany. Although many people would question my preference for Frieze Masters, I must say that as we paused in the reading room amongst the art magazines and catalogues, I felt so appreciative of the relaxed atmosphere of this side of the fair. The subtlety of its splendor is something that competitors like Art Basel, Maastricht or Masterpiece can only dream of achieving.

Our contributing writer is Flora Alexandra Ogilvy, a London-based art journalist 

and founder of the  www.arteviste.com.