Born in Belgium at the end of the 19th century, Rene Magritte gained fame for his peculiar and oddly titled Surrealist works. Early in Magritte’s childhood his mother committed suicide, this proved a formative event in his artistic development. When his mother’s body was pulled from the river in which she drowned herself, as legend has it her face was completely covered by her night dress. Imagery from this incident, particularly the reoccurring Magritte theme of obscured and veiled faces, is a staple in many of Magritte’s images. Magritte works such as The Lovers and The Son of Man play directly of the theme of obscured faces that would normally be seen albeit for some obvious veil. While the idea of one thing covering another in a peculiar way is seen in many Magritte works such as Do not Recreate and The Human Condition. Magritte is quoted saying “Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see. There is an interest in that which is hidden and what the visible doesn’t show us.”
Magritte’s wife Georgette is another key to understanding Magritte. After meeting Georgette, nearly every female portrayed in Magritte’s works is Georgette. He shows her and her beauty in works like La Magie Norie and The Eternally Obvious. But some critics have called Magritte’s portrayal of women sexist. Their argument is logically rooted; The Rape and Representation certainly don’t seem to be a romantic way to portray one’s true love. Magritte and Georgette both had simultaneous affairs in the late nineteen thirties while Magritte was in England selling some of his new works. Magritte sent detailed instructions to the poet entertaining his wife about how to properly please and keep Georgette happy. The two reconciled when they were kept apart by WWII and Magritte soon realized that he couldn’t live without his beloved Georgette. On the eve of his return to Belgium he wrote a friend saying “If I were to die on the way tell Georgette when you see her that my lasts thoughts were of her.”
As opposed to being an artist in the company of artists, Magritte’s group of friends consisted mostly of poets and writers. Magritte didn’t take a fancy to the leaders of the art world and had a falling out with the leaders of the surrealist movement in the late nineteen twenties. When it came time for Magritte to name a work he rarely invented the title himself. He would consult his literary friends via letters or some other means and choose one out of the multiple of suggestions he received from them. The titles of Magritte’s works and content seem to be a juxtaposition of unrelated ideas; this is largely due to the help of his artistic companions. The “Literary Art” that Magritte made can be largely explained by the company of word weaving friends that he held.
Understanding Rene Magritte is no easy task, but understanding his past and surroundings are key to understanding his character. His artwork is often humorous and intriguing at the same time. His veiled faces and memories set in stone offer only a glimpse into his complicated mind.
1. Is Magritte’s portrayal of Georgette and other woman an act of sexism, love, or something in-between? (see Le Viol, The Eternally Obvious, Bather Between Light and Darkness, Attempting the Impossible, Galatea’s Robe, Representation)
2. Choose a Magritte painting (or two if you haven't hit 500 words) with a title completely unrelated to the work. Speculate as to how that title applies to or could apply to the work and what kind of hidden meanings could be taken from the juxtaposition of the title and image even if it wasn’t the original artist intention.
3. Write an engaging narrative about what happened to the man with the newspaper in The Man with the Newspaper. Or explain what will happen next to the murderer portrayed in The Murderer Threatened.
For Riley: Fantastic speech, my friend. I chose to tackle prompt number three, just for the chance to be creative. As for the presentation and research, it looks as though you have a great handle on the subject. I like how you have tied formative events to his artwork. At times in the presentation, though this may not be so in the essay, I had some trouble following the timeline of his works. Other than that, you did a superlative job, especially in keeping the presentation interesting and engaging. Without further ado, here is my narrative offering…
ReplyDeleteA Murderer’s Folly
His work had been quick. There was nothing more to do then but leave. As he crossed the room, he lingered for a moment at the phonograph. Music was still playing softly, caressing his worn soul. What was there left of him? Whatever he had been, it was lost with her murder. All his hopes and feelings bled from her mouth without any sign of stopping. Throwing on his coat and hat, he slowly plucked off the stylus and moved toward the foyer.
It came suddenly.
It was sharp impulse, stratified in a helplessness spurred by capture. His eyes pleaded to see his captors, but all the cones were given was quick flashes of light in a sea of darkness. Warmth began to flood around his auburn hair, and his stomach wrenched a bit. This was far worse than killing her. There had been neither pain nor sickness there. That would come later.
Shouting crops up.
Senses explode within him as he is pulled along the ground. There was a light softness smelt in the air as his body crossed the threshold, birds chirping in oblivion. Scraping along, yard after yard, he comes around a bit, moaning audibly. Another quick jab is given to his abdomen, pain rushing in right after. It was only an unnerving lack of taste, no feeling in his throat, which had left him. Everything else was wholly, unwaveringly aware.
The siren blares.
His eyes finally pierce the abyss, only to see the backs of heads protected by glass. Cool metal has since been slapped around his wrists, the netting he was captured in draped beside him on the seat. All this combined was too much for the man, and implored him to speak in a broken and stilted manner.
“What… is th-th-this? W-what is going o-on?”
Only laughter and grunts are returned. He tries to speak again, but his voice is lost, as dry as the Serengeti. The ride is bumpy, and lasts forever. Most unnerving was the complete lack of acknowledgement. They did not look at him, or talk to him. It was as if this was simply the usual ride about town between two partners in enforcement, watching the street for crime and supposed injustice.
Finally, the motor stops, and motion ceases.
He was shuffled through room after room, a flash of light blinding him as he held up some sort of placard. The movement finally stops, and bars clang shut. He is a heap in the corner, just another criminal. A rather jovial man saunters over, the only other occupant at the time, and helps him to his feet. “Looks like dem’ bobbies did a good number on your head there. What you do to make dem’ so flustered.”
There was a moment of silence, a moment of repose.
“She was a good wife, all those years,” he replied. The man’s new comrade looks at him slyly, inquiring for more. “But in the end, I think she set me up.”
“What did you do to her, buddy?”
“I killed her, I guess.”
“She set you up to kill her?”
“Yep. She knew it would kill me more.”
Response to Prompt #2
ReplyDeleteRene Magritte’s two paintings entitled The Human Condition initially appear to have absolutely no connection to their seemingly incongruous title. Neither painting contains an image of a human being, or anything related to the pain, suffering, and corruption that are generally associated with the human condition as represented in art. In fact, at first glance they appear to be beautiful, aesthetically pleasing, and harmless paintings. An interesting dynamic is used in both these paintings in which an easel is in the foreground of the painting, with a subsequent painting on it that exactly matches the scenery that probably exists behind the canvas. This aspect can be used as an argument that this is art for art’s sake alone; that the perspective is painted merely as an interesting visual challenge for the viewer. However, if one chooses to read deeper into these paintings, perhaps something can be revealed about the condition of mankind.
The two scenes represented in Magritte’s The Human Condition reveal a natural, outdoor scene viewed from inside a building. One looks out a door towards an ocean beach scene and the other gazes through a window to a field with a tree in it. In the modern era, humans are slaves to the indoors. The outside world is so often underappreciated and taken for granted, viewed from a distance. While both the door and window are open, just as the outdoor world is open for humans to explore, Magritte chooses to border both of these natural scenes with manmade architecture. He chooses to limit the viewer to only a small portion of the scene. Humans so often choose to remain inside, in comfort and nonchalance, rather than take the small steps to explore the world beyond.
Both paintings of The Human Condition have an easel as the focal point of the artwork. While the easel does blend in with its surroundings, the positioning of it in the foreground and center of each painting reveal the importance of it. Could there be something hidden behind the painted easels? What could they be covering up with their continuations of the beautiful scenes in the background? Perhaps this suggests the condition of the human race insofar as so much of what we see is reproduced. There is less and less originality everywhere you look. From personality and fashion, to the media, to wars and politics, history repeats itself over and over. Most humans do not experience many things firsthand. We see artificial representations of the real world everywhere we look: in art, television, and even the people around us. The easels in these paintings are blocking out the beauty of the scene behind it. While the image is beautiful, the painting is not a beach, an ocean, a tree, or a field. It is paint. On a canvas. Just like Magritte’s painting of a pipe is not a pipe. And this is representative of the condition of mankind, because we see things that are not real and interpret them as fact. But so much more can exist “beyond the canvas”.
Perhaps Magritte never meant for these paintings to be interpreted beyond being art for art’s sake. Yet by using a title such as The Human Condition, he nonetheless opens his work up for interpretation. Maybe he just thought the title poetic, another effort to be different, however, he might also be telling the reader to look for what is hidden in his artwork. The attraction of the ambiguity of his artwork is that it allows the viewer to take away whatever interpretation they want from the paintings at hand.
Narrative Response: The Man with the Newspaper
ReplyDeleteI stared at the crumpled parchment paper clenched in my hands. The paper was trembling so hard I could not decipher the immaculate cursive ink. As if I needed to read the damned paper again. Every word was burned into my eyes, seared into my vision as if some cruel god had meant to torture me.
We know what you did. We will come.
I could feel a cold draft howl through the old building, my old building. It battered at my flesh with all the ferocity of a belligerent dying beast. And yet I could feel the sweat beading on my brow. One droplet escaped from the line of receding hair and raced over my smooth skin, the fine skin of a gentleman, to hover on my jaw. It just sat there, hovering.
Damnit I could take the silence no more! I rushed out of the parlor and into my room, ran to the vanity and threw an assortment of clothing hurriedly into a bag. Faster was all I could think. They were coming! If only it was anyone but them. How did they know? Who had told? I was a dead man if they caught me. I needed to run. I would take the train; no, no that would take too long and they could track me. It was too cold to walk anywhere. Think! Faster!
My feet flew down the stairs but not fast enough. Nothing was fast enough. I rushed out into the snow-pocked streets, scanning the barren roads for escape, anything. There! A carriage stood outside the pub; I could get just about anywhere with the horse. They wouldn’t be able to follow me; it was perfect.
I ran to the carriage, gave the driver spluttered directions and jumped inside. The beat of the horse’s hooves assailed my ears and oddly calmed my nerves. I was leaving and they would not be able to catch me now. I almost laughed in relief. As I leaned against the worn leather seat and was jostled lightly from the bumps in the road, I let my mind wander. I would travel to Denmark and start a new life. Again. I had done it before, I knew how to craft lies and fake a reassuring smile. Yes, of course I’m so glad to meet you. I love this little town, too. Oh a ball? Saturday night? I would be glad to escort you Miss –insert name here-. The fools. They believed me every time.
I just hated having to move with such short notice. Everything had been going so well in that little town. It was only yesterday I was sitting in my parlor with the simple austere table, feeling the winter sun warm my back. I was reading the obituaries in the Gazette; I had an odd fascination with the macabre. Something about morbid sights and tales made me feel alive and powerful. The more ghastly and disturbing, the faster my adrenaline flew and the more invincible I felt. It was a feeling I could not get enough of.
The ditch in the road jolted the carriage and brought me back to the present. Dark was fast approaching and I had the driver pull over to a roadside inn. It was unimpressive and run by peasants but it would do for the time. Momentarily unworried, I slid into a dreamless slumber.
With the rise of the sun came another hurried departure. It would be another long day of escape, while my parlor lay abandoned and alone. What would they think when the arrived to find me no longer at my little chair? I imagined the curdling screams of dismay and the profound disappointment at finding their quarry had escaped. I smirked at the image and began weaving a story that would fasten the means for my new life.
Two more nights followed the same course; two more days that I would not be existing in my parlor. The countryside fell away by the mile, fading into a past that I had no compulsion to hang on to. We stopped rarely, just to water the horse and pick up fuel. We would soon be reaching a new destination, a new life, and I was anxious with anticipation. As twilight came to a close, we drew up to a small town, our last resting place before we reached Denmark. I left the driver to tend to the beleaguered mount that had carried us these many miles. The poor beast was losing flesh and clumps of hair from the hard journey. The spirit had seeped out of him and a dull look was present in his eyes. It was the look of death. I shivered in delight at the thought of it.
Walking in to the building, I was surprised by the dimly lit infrastructure. Normally these places glowed with disturbing warmth, trying to entice and comfort weary travelers. At first I could not find the clerk, and I tapped my fingers on the desk impatiently. Where was the fellow?!
At that moment, a sinister voice sounded behind me, making every hair stand on end.
"We always come."
I turned to the sound, noticing for the first time the lanky shadows positioned about the room. The tallest approached me, slowly but confidently. Suddenly, the forgotten paper and its message, still in my coat pocket, felt heavy as lead. It was this shadow who had written the note in the elegant hand, I was sure. It was this creature that had forced me from my home and sent me flying, fear in every fiber of my being. I had forgotten how to breathe. I could not move; the note held me captive where I was, a chain. No, not a chain but a weight, a heavy weight so that I would sink because as I looked into the approaching figure’s eyes, I knew I was drowning. Drowning in the vehemence and cold fury of the steely grey eyes. Drowning in the pleading, grasping souls of my victims that seemed held in those orbs. Drowning in the horror, not that I had done wrong, but that I had been caught. Drowning in the overwhelming fear that I was going to die.
The cloaked shadow took another step forward and the only curdling scream that ripped through the night was mine.
The piece of art by Rene Magritte I chose is called “The Great War”. In this painting, there is nothing to do with war. No blood, guns, swords, armies, instead, there is just a well figured lady wearing pure white from head to toe next to a wall by what seems to be the ocean. Following the trend of many of Magritte’s paintings, this lady is veiled with a small bouquet of purple flowers over her face. This picture seems to have no relation whatsoever to any great war, but some assumptions can be made. This painting could depict the end of a war. It is possible that her husband served in the army, or navy since she is waiting by the ocean, for some war and she is going out to meet him. This could also explain why she is wearing all white, to signify that she stayed pure for him while waiting until he returned home and is also just trying to make herself beautiful for him when he first sees her. White is also a very bright color and he will definitely be able to spot her out of a crowd. The veil of flowers over her face could signify the depression and dread from the war that just happened. It could represent the fear she must feel about seeing her lover that she hasn’t seen in a long time. She probably knows that he will be changed from serving in the war, killing people, and seeing people die. She is scared that he will not love her or feel the same war for her as he did before he left for war. War is no happy event. There are still many losses that occur and effects on the country from war. She is most likely thinking about these bad thoughts, but is trying to hide them with something pretty like flowers. This painting could represent either the coming back of her husband, or the leaving of her husband to war. If he were leaving, she could be wearing white to try and make their goodbye more positive and always to reassure him that she will stay true to him. She could be using the flowers to veil her feelings of sorrow she will have when he leaves and the doubt that he will even come back alive. She doesn’t want him to go, but she knows it’s best to leave him with a positive memory of her, so she masks all of these uncertainties for him. These are possible renditions of this painting, or it could just be a totally random title. I’m not much of a history person, but maybe there is significance in a lady wearing white and relating it to war that I am not aware of, but when I saw this painting, I felt the title was quite random, until observing it further.
ReplyDeleteResponse to prompt 1:
ReplyDeleteI don’t consider the portrayals of the female figure in Magritte’s The Rape or Representation to be sexist. It is true that these portraits may not be entirely respectful, but I don’t believe that means that Magritte himself did not respect women. His adoration and love for Georgette seemed to be pure and unrivaled, despite his affairs. This, to me, is proof that Magritte valued women and their role in society. It also makes me doubt that his art should inspire negative connotations concerning women, such as sexist undertones. That said, I also wouldn’t perceive the two works of art as an act of love. The title, The Rape, especially, does not suggest a feeling of love. I think that The Rape has an entirely different implication. It could have some relation to the story of his mother’s death. Sense she was found with the nightgown thrown over her head, leaving the rest of her body bare, the portrait could represent her fate. I also can understand how viewers could interpret the painting to be the way men see women, in which case sexism is relevant, but I don’t feel like that is what Magritte meant. The reason I don’t think those were Magritte’s intentions is, again, because of his love for Georgette. A man who feels that strongly for one woman, likely is not looking at other women and seeing their privates strewn across their face (or at least I’d like to hope not!). Nude women have been portrayed in art since art was first made and the intentions have not been called sexist or negatively judged. I read Magritte’s depiction of Georgette, in such a unique and unseen manner, as simply part of his surreal style.
Response to prompt 2:
I chose Magritte’s Hegel’s Holiday to describe.
I think this painting could be titled Hegel’s Holiday for two reasons, the drink and the season. The word holiday automatically refers to the holiday season in my mind. The holiday season begins around Thanksgiving, or right after, and lasts until the New Year. This is a season of joy, family, décor and…bad weather, hence the umbrella. With all the snow, rain and hail during that time of year, it only makes sense that one would carry an umbrella on their outings.
During this season, there is also plenty of celebration. People reunite with family and friends for parties, gift exchanges and food throughout the weeks surrounding holidays. This provides ample opportunity for drinking, hence the wine glass. Of course, on your way to these gatherings, you would carry your umbrella. My logic, concerning this picture, is that Hegel, whoever he or she might be, is in preparation for another year of hearty celebration, despite the unpleasant weather.
Response to prompt 1:
ReplyDeleteI don’t consider the portrayals of the female figure in Magritte’s The Rape or Representation to be sexist. It is true that these portraits may not be entirely respectful, but I don’t believe that means that Magritte himself did not respect women. His adoration and love for Georgette seemed to be pure and unrivaled, despite his affairs. This, to me, is proof that Magritte valued women and their role in society. It also makes me doubt that his art should inspire negative connotations concerning women, such as sexist undertones. That said, I also wouldn’t perceive the two works of art as an act of love. The title, The Rape, especially, does not suggest a feeling of love. I think that The Rape has an entirely different implication. It could have some relation to the story of his mother’s death. Sense she was found with the nightgown thrown over her head, leaving the rest of her body bare, the portrait could represent her fate. I also can understand how viewers could interpret the painting to be the way men see women, in which case sexism is relevant, but I don’t feel like that is what Magritte meant. The reason I don’t think those were Magritte’s intentions is, again, because of his love for Georgette. A man who feels that strongly for one woman, likely is not looking at other women and seeing their privates strewn across their face (or at least I’d like to hope not!). Nude women have been portrayed in art since art was first made and the intentions have not been called sexist or negatively judged. I read Magritte’s depiction of Georgette, in such a unique and unseen manner, as simply part of his surreal style.
Response to prompt 2:
I chose Magritte’s Hegel’s Holiday to describe.
I think this painting could be titled Hegel’s Holiday for two reasons, the drink and the season. The word holiday automatically refers to the holiday season in my mind. The holiday season begins around Thanksgiving, or right after, and lasts until the New Year. This is a season of joy, family, décor and…bad weather, hence the umbrella. With all the snow, rain and hail during that time of year, it only makes sense that one would carry an umbrella on their outings.
During this season, there is also plenty of celebration. People reunite with family and friends for parties, gift exchanges and food throughout the weeks surrounding holidays. This provides ample opportunity for drinking, hence the wine glass. Of course, on your way to these gatherings, you would carry your umbrella. My logic, concerning this picture, is that Hegel, whoever he or she might be, is in preparation for another year of hearty celebration, despite the unpleasant weather.
This is a test to try to answer a posting question. P. Lee
ReplyDelete