Monday, 26 October 2015

Auerbach V Crystal. Harry Pye asks Who's Best?

Jim Davidson hasn’t brought me much happiness over the years but he did once make me chuckle over his gag about the portraits of Pablo Picasso: “Picasso was a terrific painter but he didn’t 'alf know some ugly women!” We have little control over which jokes make us laugh and which tunes make us tap a toe. Likewise, when it comes to looking at a painting in a gallery – we all know what we like – even if we can’t explain why. When it comes to making a connection with an art work it doesn’t really matter what any journalist or critic argues or claims. One person’s take on a painting is never the definitive analysis because, ultimately, our preferences are merely subjective opinions. Obviously what I’m saying is nothing new. The phrase, “There’s no accounting for taste” has been around a lot longer than any of the paintings in Tate Britain.

This week I have mostly been looking at the paintings of Frank Auerbach. Frank, who was born in 1931, has a greatest hits-style show which runs at the Tate till March of next year. A couple of art critics have awarded the show 5-star reviews and attendances have been very good but would Frank be that bothered? Would worrying about viewing figures or reading glowing reviews really be his thing?

Mr. Auerbach lives to paint. He paints 7 days a week and 3 evenings a week. Sometimes he’ll do over 50 separate versions of the same portrait until he thinks he’s nailed it. I know a lot about him as I’ve read the excellent book about him by Catherine Lampert called “Speaking and Painting.” One thing I learned is that, in Frank’s studio, there is a reproduction of Pablo Picasso’s portrait of Dora Marr. In the book Frank tells Catherine that when he sees a Picasso that “it feels like an owl blinking its eyes coming into the light.” Frank explains he thinks Pab is fab because his paintings make him see things that he hasn’t thought of before. He also says that Picasso's portrait of Dora is always "exhorting me to be naughtier".


Frank’s had the same studio near Mornington Crescent since 1954 and he has made paintings of that part of North London on many occasions. His late friend and fellow painter, Lucian Freud admired a painting completed in 1991 called “Mornington Crescent – Early Morning”. Freud said: “The mastery of these compositions is such that in spite of their often precarious balance, like a waiter pretending to slip while carrying a huge pile of plates, the structure never falters. It is the viewer who has to hold tight.”

The show at the Tate features portraits of Frank’s friend William Feaver, who is an important art critic. There are also paintings of his wife, his son Jake and a woman called Ruth Bromberg. Frank began painting her Ruth in 1992. He painted her every Thursday afternoon for 17 years. For the first 45 minutes of the session Frank would scrape off the paint of a previous painting of her whilst discussing art and artists and then he would paint her in total silence for one hour. Frank thanked his models for their patience and described what he was doing as being a “slow fumble towards the truth.”

Jake Auerbach has made a DVD featuring his father talking about his work. I read a comment from one of Jake’s colleagues that, during the making of the documentary, he obtained one rare fact about Frank that isn’t mentioned in Catherine Lambert’s book. Apparently, when they weren’t talking about his paintings, the only other subject that came up was Frank’s interest in the films of Billy Crystal.As a child I loved watching SOAP – the spoof soap opera that made Crystal famous - but I’ve never considered him to be up there with the all-time greats. I’m not bad-mouthing Billy – I thought Mr Saturday Night was quite moving in places and he was great as the devil in Deconstructing Harry but I just never saw him as hilariously funny or particularly talented.

It’s a funny thing to admit to but although I know Frank Auerbach put a lot of hours in and I know that he’s sincere and believes in painting... If I’m being honest, most of the paintings in his Tate Britain show don’t really do anything for me. I like the work in the first 2 rooms but after that I think it gets a bit patchy. I certainly don’t feel like a blinking owl “watching a waiter pretend to slip over” when I look at Frank’s later stuff.

The fact is, just because a painting is brimming with information conveyed with an underlying delicacy – it doesn’t mean I have to appreciate it in the same way I don’t have to appreciate Throw Mamma From The Train. A lot of Frank’s painting don’t excite me but what does fascinate me though is the idea of Frank coming home from the studio, watching “When Harry Met Sally” and laughing at the famous Meg Ryan scene in the cafe. I also can’t help my mind wondering if Frank owns either a VHS video or a DVD of City Slickers. It’s such an unimportant thing and yet it’s of interest to me.

Frank and Lucian Freud were known to have long conversations about art - I also wonder if Frank had ever mentioned to Lucian that his grandfather (Sigmund Freud) gets a mention in Analyse This? In an early scene where a mobster boss (played by Robert De Niro) is having Freud’s Oedipal Theory explained to him by a psychiatrist (played by Crystal) we hear the line: “Well, Freud was a sick fuck... and so are you for bringing it up!” Wouldn’t it have been great if Frank had re-enacted the scene and did all the voices?

Some time ago I read an interview with Billy Crystal in the London freebie newspaper Metro. There were two things he said that stayed with me and that I’d like you to think about. One was about working on Analyse This – he said that Robert De Niro was the best actor he knew because he got closer to the truth than anyone else. And the other thing was Billy’s advice to young comics who want to make it in show business. He said: “If you hang around the kitchen long enough – someone will probably give you a sandwich.”


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