Thursday 29 December 2011

René Magritte, biografia resumida

http://magritterene.blogspot.com/


René Magritte, biografia resumida

René François Ghislain Magritte nascido em 21 de novembro de 1898 na cidade de Lessines, no Hainaut belga. Filho de Léopold Magritte e Adeline, teve sua infância marcada por muitas mudanças de cidade. Moraram em Lessines, Gilly, Châtelet e Charleroi.

Seu pai Léopold e sua mãe Adeline, não tiveram problemas em proporcionar uma boa educação a René, Paul e Raymond, já que eles não tinham muitas preocupações financeiras, pois ele trabalhava como alfaiate e ela como modista de chapéu. Está situação continuou a mesma mesmo após a morte de Adeline, onde René e seus irmãos foram criados por governantas e empregados. Assis como René, Paul era interessado pela arte. Compôs músicas e arranjos para obras alheias. Ambos partilhavam uma grande paixão pelo cinema, principalmente pela série Fantômas, que influenciou as idéias de Magritte. Por outro lado, seu irmão Raymond, contrariando o gosto pela arte se seus dois irmãos era um homem de negócios. E mesmo apesar de nunca ter se dado bem com Magritte, René administrou seus bens durante a vida.

O suicídio de sua mãe aos 41 anos em 1912, afogada no rio Sambra é um grande mistério, por não se saber os motivos de seu suicídio. Magritte, no entanto teve uma reação um tanto estranha ao acontecido, se sentindo orgulhoso por ser filho de uma suicida e ter angariado a simpatia de seus vizinhos e colegas de escola. Inúmeras histórias dizem que Magritte viu o corpo de sua mãe com o rosto coberto com sua camisola, porém nenhuma delas se mostrou verdadeira. Foi criado então por um pai solitário, criadas e governantas.

Este acontecimento pode ter influenciado muito a vida artística de Magritte. Não se sabe que tipo de impacto essas emoções demonstradas por ele podem ter acarretado. Em uma carta datada de 1956 Magritte dizia: “Tenho inúmeras recordações atrozes, mas não compreenderei nunca o arrependimento, só sinto remorsos.” (carta a Maurice Rapin datada de 8/11/1956, publicada em A Arte Pura)...


Breve Introdução

O projeto interdisciplinar tem como base de estudo o discurso entre design e arte e suas ligações. A pesquisa analisa os movimentos artísticos, no caso, o surrealismo que influenciou vários artistas no final do século XIX, com o começo da Revolução Industrial. Dentre os artistas desse movimento, a escolha foi estudar as obras de René Magritte que é um dos grandes surrealistas da época. Em muito de seus quadros, os objetos obtém um grande destaque, sendo retratados de uma forma reflexiva e intencional, dando um novo olhar ao seu significado. Com isso, a análise mostra essa relação entre a idéia do artista, e o objeto do cotidiano relatado em suas obras, finalizando assim a transformação do objeto funcional com significados próprios de René Magritte.

Surrealismo no cinema brasileiro

fonte -
http://horrorbrasileiro.blogspot.com/2010/04/surrealismo-no-cinema-brasileiro.html

Surrealismo no cinema brasileiro


Indico aqui o link para a revista Taturana. Além da dica da revista, que vale por si, divulgo a entrevista feita comigo pelo jornalista Marcelo Miranda, na terceira edição. Foi uma conversa bem legal que tivemos sobre o surrealismo no cinema brasileiro.

http://issuu.com/revistataturana/docs/taturana_3_corterx

Trechos da entrevista:

MM - A expressão "surrealismo no cinema brasileiro" te remete a alguma coisa?
A expressão "surrealismono cinema brasileiro" me remete a muitas coisas, mas, em primeiro lugar, a algumas ressalvas. Quando falamos em cinema brasileiro, o que nos vem à mente é o longa-metragem de ficção, mas creio que o surrealismo possa ser encontrado de maneira muito mais disseminada nos curtas de ficção e experimentais, que têm menos compromisso com exibição comercial e, por isso, podem se arriscar mais em conceitos transgressores como muitos dos que definem o surrealismo. Outra ressalva a ser feita diz respeito ao que se entende por surrealismo no cinema. Se estivermos falando simplesmente na presença de elementos oníricos, a lista de filmes brasileiros de ficção será enorme, mesmo nos longas-metragens. Porém, se levarmos em conta os aspectos transgressores preconizados pelo movimento surrealista, além das idéias de associação livre e a influência do pensamento de Freud, aí o escopo diminui bastante. Ainda mais uma ressalva é necessária. O surrealismo é um movimento estético europeu que tem um "primo" na narrativa realista-maravilhosa latino-americana do século XX, que me parece muito mais presente no cinema brasileiro do que o surrealismo. A diferença entre as duas é que, enquanto o surrealismo traz o elemento estranho pela via do onírico, o realismo-maravilhoso aceita o elemento estranho como fazendo parte da "paisagem natural" (como em "Saramandaia", do Dias Gomes). Isso pode ser justificado à própria culura latino-americana, muito mais aberta ao sobrenatural do que a européia.

MM - Se fosse pra falar em um cineasta surrealista no país, em qualquer época, existiria algum?
No sentido de um cineasta comprometido com o surrealismo, que eu saiba, não.

MM - Nem mesmo nos curtas, tipo um Dennison Ramalho ou um Fernando Severo?
O Dennison faz filmes de horror, e diz isso para quem quiser ouvir! Não vejo porque dar outro nome ao que ele faz. Além disso, sua obra, ainda está no começo, então seria absurdo rotulá-lo de qualquer coisa. Já o Severo tem uma obra um pouco mais extensa e bem mais variada, com filmes de fantasia, experimentais e até documentais, então talvez seja possível apontar momentos surrealistas, mas não rotular o conjunto.

MM - Será que o Brasil absorveu alguma lição de gente como Luis Buñuel, David Lynch ou mesmo Tim Burton?
Certamente que sim, mas talvez não da forma que a crítica espere. Um cineasta que chegou a ser comparado com o Buñuel foi o Mojica, mas num registro mais popular e explícito, totalmente ligado aos elementos do gênero horror (que nunca fizeram parte do projeto do Buñuel ou de outros surrealistas). Os cineastas chamados de marginais também trazem essa influência. Nesse sentido, acho bacana lembrar de filmes como PRATA PALOMARES, do André Faria Jr. e OS MONSTROS DO BABALOO, do Elizeu Visconti. O David Lynch, segundo me parece, é muito influente entre cineastas mais jovens, em particular os curta-metragistas. Mas longas como O CORPO, do Rubens Rewald, também podem ser mencionados. Já o caso do Tim Burton é bem mais complicado, pois, além de ele não ser propriamente um surrealista, o tipo de cinema que ele faz exige orçamentos que não estão ao alcance do cinema brasileiro. No máximo, encontra-se algo no cinema infantil, mas com roteiros bem mais "comportadinhos". Exemplo disso poderia ser O CASTELO RÁ-TIM-BUM.

MM - Surreal é a gente falar de um filme infantil num papo sobre surrealismo!
Todas as vanguardas do começo do século XX tinham um enorme interesse pelo trabalhos artísticos de crianças, que lhes pareciam expressões totalmente livres do imaginário. É só lembrar de um artista como o Miró (que chegou a passear pelo surrealismo) para perceber que o universo infantil interessa muito à toda a arte moderna.

MM - O surrealismo e o terror podem caminhar juntos? Em que sentido e sob quais aspectos?
Podem, principalmente pela presença da agressividade, do grotesco e dos elementos que não se adaptam à visão que temos do "mundo natural" (como a presença do sobrenatural). Mas, em geral, o horror pressupõe que os personagens da história reajam a esses elementos com estranhamento, enquanto, no surrealismo, o elemento estranho é contextualizado pela atmosfera onírica. Não são tantos os cineastas que conseguem misturar bem o surrealismo com horror. Entre eles, podemos citar o chileno Alejandro Jodorovski, o italiano Dario Argento, o estadunidense David Lynch e o brasileiro José Mojica Marins.

MM - Mojica ou Ivan Cardoso fizeram alguma obra que você considere surrealista?
Do Mojica, sem dúvida "O Despertar da Besta" é um filme comprometido com o surrealismo, embora o cineasta talvez não tivesse total consciência disso. O próprio fato de descrever devaneios dos personagens sob supostos efeitos de drogas parte de um princípio surrealista, que é o da expressão livre dos processos inconscientes. Outro filme dele que se relaciona mais diretamente com o surrealismo é A PRAGA. Já quanto aos outro filmes, prefiro chamá-los de filmes de horror, mesmo, que é o que eles são. No caso do Ivan Cardoso, vejo muito mais influência das chanchadas e do besteirol do que do cinema surrealista. Mas UM LOBISOMEM NA AMAZÔNIA, ao trazer a viagem de Daime dos personagens, talvez possa ser considerado um "parente distante". De qualquer maneira, eu consideraria um exagero afirmar isso.

MM - O cinema brasileiro pós-retomada, com um certo tom anódino que o caracteriza, pode ser chamado de surrealista - no sentido de ser tão distinto do que o país já foi capaz de fazer?
Não sei se o cinema da pós-retomada é tão distinto do que já fomos capazes de fazer, mas certamente não é surrealista. O que se percebe, no máximo, é um gosto pelo fantástico e pelo onírico, mas num registro muito pouco transgressor. Exemplos disso existem aos montes nas produções da Globo Filmes como O CORONEL E O LOBISOMEM, A MULHER INVISÍVEL, SE EU FOSSE VOCÊ, O HOMEM QUE DESAFIOU O DIABO, FICA COMIGO ESTA NOITE etc.

MM - Pois é, o uso que fiz da palavra "distinto" é porque, surreal ou não, o uso dos tais "elementos estranhos" no passado do cinema brasileiro era bem mais arriscado do que hoje. Esses filmes todos que você citou são quase infantis, no mau sentido do termo, e parecem ter medo de levar pra longe as noções das quais eles partem. Você acha que nem o Mojica, com o "Encarnação do Demônio" (que eu sei que você não gosta), tirou um pouco o marasmo, nesse sentido? E "O Fim da Picada", do Cristian Sagard, onde entra na equação toda?
Não sou saudosista com o cinema do passado, pois noto que muitos filmes dos quais hoje "sentimos saudades" foram ignorados ou francamente atacados pela crítica e pela academia na época em que foram feitos. No caso do filme do Mojica, não é que eu não goste, mas acho que os realizadores não conseguiram nem recuperar o Zé do Caixão original e nem aproveitar a figura divertida que ele se tornou. Quanto ao surrealismo nesse filme, a gente pode encontrar alguns momentos (como no encontro dele com o Zé Celso no purgatório), mas é filme de horror típico, inclusive assumindo essa linha bem contemporânea do "torture porn" (da qual, aliás, o Mojica foi um dos precursores!). Por fim, o filme do Christian, se eu tivesse que classificar (o que é complicadíssimo e polêmico!) eu o colocaria na linha do realismo-maravilhoso, pela presença de figuras do folclore nacional misturadas à paisagem urbana.


Exemplo de curta surrealista brasileiro

A origem do Modernismo brasileiro

fonte - sala de artes
http://salaseteartes.wordpress.com/pintura-2/surrealismo-no-brasil/



A origem do Modernismo brasileiro

 

"Abaporu": obra deu origem ao Movimento Antropofágico

Por Chandra Santos

 


As ideias surrealistas vieram para o Brasil na década de 1930 e foram absorvidas pelo movimento Modernista. A pintora Tarsila do Amaral e o escritor Ismael Nery foram os mais influenciados. Além deles, a escultora Maria Martins, o pintor pernambucano Cícero Dias, o poeta Murilo Mendes e os escritores Aníbal Machado e Mário Pedrosa também acrescentaram elementos surreais em suas obras.
 A Semana de 22 foi o ápice do movimento Modernista no Brasil. Mário de Andrade, Oswald de Andrade, Víctor Brecheret, Plínio Salgado, Anita Malfatti, Menotti Del Pichia, Guilherme de Almeida, Sérgio Milliet, Heitor Villa-Lobos e Tarsila do Amaral são algumas das personalidades que estiveram presentes no evento ocorrido nos dias 13, 15 e 17 de fevereiro no Teatro Municipal de São Paulo. Considerada um marco na arte brasileira, por propor a ruptura com o passado, a Semana de 22 revolucionou a Literatura, a música, a pintura, a poesia e a escultura. O poema “Os Sapos” rendeu a Manuel Bandeira muitas vaias durante a apresentação. Os concertos musicais de Villa-Lobos foram outra novidade. As maquetes de arquitetura e as telas das artes plásticas também. No momento em que ocorria, a Semana sofreu numerosas críticas. Mas, passados os anos, seus participantes impregnados do ideário modernista fundaram estilos diferentes que culminaram na cultura brasileira contemporânea.
 Tarsila do Amaral pintou, em 1928, uma das obras mais importantes do Modernismo: o “Abaporu” (do Tupi- Guarani: o homem que come).  A tela foi um presente ao então marido Oswald de Andrade. Observando a tela ele criou o Movimento Antropofágico cuja ideia principal era “deglutir” a cultura européia incorporando-a a elementos da nossa cultura. Nesse período, Tarsila também pintou “O Lago” (1928); “O Ovo” ou “Urutu” (1928); “A Lua” (1928); “Cartão Postal” (1929) e “Antropofagia” (1929).  


"O Lago": obra possui o colorido típico da autora
"O Ovo": tela contém símbolos da Antropofagia. A cobra tem o poder de "deglutir" enquanto o ovo representa o nascimento do novo
"A Lua": quadro preferido de Oswald de Andrade. Mesmo depois de se separar de Tarsila, o artista conservou o quadro
"Cartão-Postal": a cidade do Rio de Janeiro é retratada na tela
"Antropofagia": união dos quadros "Abaporu" e "A Negra"
 ________________________________________________________________________________________________

 Pingue – Pongue: Tuneu

  

O artista Tuneu na exposição "Puro Espaço"
O artista Antonio Carlos Rodrigues, ou simplesmente Tuneu, teve o privilégio de ser aluno de Tarsila do Amaral entre 1960 e 1966. Confira abaixo a entrevista com o artista feita em maio de 2010 por e-mail.
 1- Qual a importância da arte na vida do povo brasileiro? 
“A importância da arte poderia ser maior se o país acreditasse na qualidade de seus artistas e  fizesse parte da vida das pessoas pela divulgação ou um ensino melhor da história da arte.”
  2- Como foi ser aluno da Tarsila do Amaral?
“Ser aluno de Tarsila é claro que foi um previlégio. Mas o mais importante é o estimulo para você se apaixonar pela arte que um mestre é capaz.”
 3- Qual conselho daria aos jovens que pretendem seguir a carreira artística (como pintores, escultores…)?
  ”Trabalhar muito, desenhar muito, muita disciplina e paixão.” 

___

ceci n'est pas mimi


esta não é a mimi

*

mimi:2012

porque a causa não é só minha
é de todos.
antes, o cotidiano era
desenvolver com pressa
buscando se afastar
da natureza.
cego na existência humana
poder e destruição.
ordem e progresso
ainda flamulam
no verde e amarelo.
hoje sofrendo
o planeta dá sinais
que o corpo danificado
requer mudanças
e novas andanças.
com coragem de florir
até penhascos
para além de jardins.
um planeta de todos
mulheres, homens e crianças.
extasiada no caos
suspiro o desejo
denunciar os conflitos
anunciando as esperanças.

~ mimi
(2012)
*


Friday 23 December 2011

SURREALISM eye.com

eye.com.art
http://robinurton.com/history/surrealism.htm


.
Surrealism

Max Ernst

Rene Magritte


Salvador Dali
The artistic style of surrealism began as an official movement shortly after the end of the first world war. In its infancy, it was a literary movement, but soon found its greatest expression in the visual arts. In general, the style focuses on psychological states which resemble dreams and fantasy. The artists were influenced by psychological research of Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, who sought to explain the workings of the mind through analysis of the symbols of dreams. Instead of using psychoanalysis to cure themselves of any disturbances, the surrealists saw the unconscious as a wellspring of untapped creative ideas. "A dream that is not interpreted is like a letter that is not opened" is a famous quote from Freud. The surrealists were less interested in interpretation of their dream symbols than they were in the expressive capacity of such states.
The surrealists admired the artwork of the insane for its freedom of expression, as well as artworks created by children. They admired previous artists such as Henri Rousseau, whose naive and self-taught works always contained an element of surreal fantasy. In addition, they looked for inspiration from masters of the Renaissance such as Hieronymous Bosch and Pieter Brueghel, whose fantastic elements can easily be described as surreal. The word "surreal", in fact, means "above reality". In other words, the artists believed that there was an element of truth which is revealed by our subconscious minds which supercedes the reality of our everyday consciousness.
There are actually two branches of surrealism. One group focused on creating realistic representations of dream-like states; the other preferred an abstract style. For now, I will focus on three masters of representaional surrealism.

Salvador Dali
(Spanish, 1904-1989)

The Persistence of Memory 1931

Sleep 1937

Salvador Dali is, without doubt, the most famous member of the surrealist group. His painting, The Persistence of Memory almost stands alone as a symbol of the movement. The melted clocks represent the strange warping of time which occurs when we enter the dream state. The stretched image of a man's face which is at the center of the painting is believed to be that of Dali himself, and the landscape which stretches out behind the scene may perhaps represent his birthplace, Catalonia. Dali's painting of Sleep is also successful in its suggestion of the precarious balance of sleep. We realize that if a single crutch were to fall, the dreamer will awake.



Temptation of St. Anthony

Metamorphis of Narcissus 1937

Dali frequently made reference to themes which have been repeated throughout the history of art. The Temptation of St. Anthony was a theme frequently taken up by some of the more fantasy-oriented Renaissance artists (Matthais Grunewald, for example). In Dali's version, the saint has been walking through a desert when he is confronted with a monstous horse and a team of elephants on stilt-like legs. There are also images of sexuality which the saint must oppose, using his cross to ward off the vision. The Metamorphosis of Narcissus plays on the classical theme about a beautiful young man who admires his own reflection in a pool of water. Transfixed by his own beauty, he turns to stone. Always the master of illusion, Dali creates a double-image, where the boy's form is repeated as an enlarged hand holding an egg which bursts forth with a narcissus flower. 




Crucifixion 1954

The Hallucinogenic Torreador is perhaps Dali's most successful painting involving multiple hidden images. A complete analysis of the painting would be a complex undertaking. It primarily focuses on the torreador (bull-fighter), whose face is hidden within the repeated representation of the Venus de Milo. The upper portion of the painting contains the bull-fighter's arena, again surrounded by multiple images of the goddess. There is also a hidden image of the bull in the lower left quadrant of the painting (drinking water from a pool), and an image of a boy (possibly a self-portrait as a child, as his clothing represents the approximate time period of his boyhood). The Crucifixion is another powerful painting. The innovation of a floating cross which intersects Christ's body gives an illusion of another dimension. A shocking aspect of this painting is that the representation is believed to be a self-portrait. The single figure who stands in adoration is believed to be that of his wife, Gala (who often appeared in his paintings).
Dali was very prolific throughout his life, creating hundreds of paintings, prints, and even sculptrues. He also produced surrealist films, illustrated books, handcrafted jewelry, and created theatrical sets and costumes. His frequently odd and shocking behaviors also contributed to his fame. One only needs to look at his photo (with his long waxed mustache and crazed look) to know that he was a bit beyond eccentric. He was actually denounced and "excommunicated" by the leader of the movement (Andre Breton, a French poet), who felt that he had become too commercial and that his staged events were merely put on to bring attention to himself. There is no doubt that he thought much of himself, as he titled his autobiography "Diary of a Genius". Despite his shameless self-promotion, the meticulous draftsmanship and realistic detail of his paintings ranks him as a master, whose subject matter makes him a great modern painter.
Rene Magritte
(Belgian, 1898-1967)


The Lovers 1928

Collective Invention 1934
Another member of the surrealist group whose works have become synonymous with the movement was Rene Magritte. This Belgian artist's temperment was opposite to that of the flaming eccentricity of Dali. He lived a quiet and "normal" life, married only one woman, and was very much a middle-class working man. Though connected to the movement, he separated himself from any the less provincial activities - preferring to work at home (in his dining-room, in fact!). Despite his seeming bougouise lifestyle, his works are extraordinary in their sense of fantasy and surreal reality. The Lovers may be a visual depiction of the idea "love is blind". I personally interpret it as the mystery that veils our understanding of a lover, who is never completely known to us. Collective Invention may be a play on the image of a mermaid. If a woman can have fins for legs, why not an inverted version?


Cle de Champs 1931

Portrait of Edward James 1937

Magritte constantly challenged our preconceptions about reality. His works contain extraordinary juxtapositions of ordinary objects or an unusual context that gives new meaning to familiar things. He often used the window frame as a suggestion of the illusion of our senses, for a painting in itself has been traditionally used as a window on some other world- as if we could look through the flat surface of a canvas to a three dimensional reality. The idea of a man looking into a mirror to see the back of his own head also plays upon our normal expectations (the man is the young Edward James, once the world's largest collector of surrealist art, and a friend to Magritte).


Personal Values 1951

Golconde 1953
By altering the scale of objects in his paintings, Magritte's work gives an immediate sense of surreal absurdity. Everyday objects become magical in his painting, Personal Values. InGolconde, Magritte paints himself in endless repetition. In trench coat and bowler cap, he becomes a symbol for "everyman", perhaps commenting on the anonymity of city life. 


Carte Blanche 1965
Empire of the Lights 1954
Magritte constantly challenges our sense of time and space. In Carte Blanch, he manipulates the space so that we have an illusion of a woman and horse who are simultaneously in front of and hidden by trees (even hidden behind the empty space between trees). Empire of the Lights is more subtle in its playfulness. It may take a moment for viewers to realize that the daytime sky does not fit the lighting situation of the night scene below. His cunning creativity places Magritte as one of my favorite artists of all time.


Max Ernst
(German, 1891-1976)

Two Children Frightened By a Nightingale


Max Ernst was one of the founding members of surrealism, who had previously been linked to the dada movement. Born in Germany, he practiced mainly in France, and fled Europe during the occupation of the Nazis (as did Dali and many other artists throughout Europe). During his career,he invented several methods which were instrumental to the surrealists. One new method he explored was "frottage", which involves 
making rubbings of textured surfaces, using the marks as chance starting points for an image. He also invented a similar technique called "decalcomania", which involved painting on glass and then pressing it directly onto the canvas to create a texture. This allowed his subconscious mind to see into the random pattern, thus creating images directly from his imagination, without any preconcieved ideas. His paintings contain an element of magic, and sometimes terror. Two Children Frightened By a Nightingale is one of his most famous images, and perhaps one of the first paintings to ever combine 3-D elements into the 2-dimensional space. The Temptation of St. Anthony is yet another version of an image about the tortured saint. Created just after the end of WWII, I think that it may be also be comment about the monstrousities of war.

Robing of the Bride 1940


Women of Surrealism


Remedios Varo

Frida Kahlo

Leonora Carrington
Though surrealist painters admired women to a degree of near-worship, they were seen more as a muse to their own creativity instead of creative masters in their own right. The three women above were surrealists in every sense of the word, but were not an integral part of the surrealist movement, which was active especially in Paris. All three of these women lived and worked in Mexico, though Kahlo was the only one of the three who was born there. The others escaped from Nazi occupation throughout Europe by traveling to Mexico. They and several other artists began a small tangendental surrealist movement. Their works continue to influence modern painters in Mexico who work in a fantasy-oriented vein.
 
Remedios Varo
(Spanish,1912- 1970)

Exploring Rio Orinico 1959

Solar Music 1955

Remedios Varo, born in Spain,was the daughter of a devout Catholic mother and a scientist father, an atheist. Her mother's mystical leanings fed her supernatural imagination, but her father's emphasis on science and reasoning would have an equal influence on her life and works. Her father gave her lessons in drawing two-point perspective and technical drafting. Ê Her mother enrolled her in a convent school but she fled in 1924. She soon attended an art academy in Madrid, where she met Salvador Dali. She later moved to Paris and developed connections with the surrealists movement there. Ê Although she won their admiration she did not consider herself a Surrealist. Instead of involving chance elements in her compositions, she strove for complete control.
While the Nazis were marching across Europe, she boarded a steamer and embarked on the long voyage to Mexico. It is here that she developes a style which is uniquely her own. She painted fantastic images in which the spiritual is entwined with the scientific as though trying to find the common ground between metaphysical and the machine. ÊIn her final work, Still Life Reviving, she paints a metaphor of the cosmos where fruits represent planets revolving around a candle flame. The fruit splits open and scatter their seeds upon the ground where they sprout as new life and hint of rebirth out of chaos. One month later, Remedios died at the age of 55 of a massive heart attack. She is highly regarded in Mexico (where her numerous retrospectives have drawn record crowds), but remains virtually unknown in the United States and Europe.


Leonora Carrington 
(English, b. 1917)

The Guardian 1950

Dawn Horse (Self Portrait) 1936

Ferret Race 1950

Leonora Carrington was very similar to Varo's in many respects. Born in England to a wealthy family, Leonora learned at a very early age the injustice of society. Since her parents were both very strict Catholics, they sent her away from convent to convent and then to boarding school. The young Leonora was was a debutante, a girl's school rebel and a runaway. After running away from home to become an artist, she met Max Ernst, who left his wife for Carrington. The couple lived together until the outbreak of WWII, when Ernst (a German citizen) was taken prisoner as an enemy alien. She tried in vein to have him released, then suffered a nervous collapse. For a short time she was put in a mental institution (at the order of her family), was given sedative drugs, but soon escaped. She married a friend who protects her from further incarceration. After moving to Mexico, they soon divorce ( the marriage is no longer necessary, but they remain friends). She remarries, has a couple of children, and continues to paint surreal visions combining mythological stories and childhood fantasies. She also wrote incredible, surrealist stories (which later become published and achieve critical acclaim). While in Mexico, she developed a life long-friendship with Remedios Varo. She also befriends Edward James, the eccentric English millionaire who collected her art (he was also the incredible architect of Las Pozas, in the rainforest of Mexico). As far as I know, she is still alive and painting. Like Varo, she is also more famous in Mexico than in America or Europe.


To view the surrealist artworks of Frida Kahlo, go to the next page,
which also includes works by her social realist husband, Diego Rivera

magritte - guardian

source: the guardian
http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2011/jun/19/rene-magritte-surrealist-favourites-tate

René Magritte: 
enigmatic master of the impossible dream

On the eve of a major Magritte exhibition, artists with an eye for the peculiar reveal why they love the witty Belgian surrealist
The Lovers, 1928 by Magritte
Magritte, Rene' (1898-1967): The Lovers, 1928. New York, Museum of Modern Art Photograph: Tate/DACS

TERRY GILLIAM Film director and former member of Monty Python

It wasn't until I'd seen Magritte's work collected together in an exhibition at the Tate, at the end of the 1960s I think, that I realised just how incredibly funny his stuff was. People walk around these exhibitions in a religious state of awe and I just walked round this one laughing uncontrollably. Until then, I'd always thought of Magritte as having an interesting and intriguing mind – the way he would turn things inside out or make that which was solid suddenly not solid. But suddenly here he was, this wonderfully dry joke teller. The work that really struck me that day was The Man in the Bowler Hat [1964]. He'd spent months painting a guy in a bowler hat and then, for his last brush strokes, paints a dove flying in front of the man's face. What's happened there could happen only in a photograph and he's done a painting of it. What a comedian! I thought he was so clever. If it wasn't for the ideas I wouldn't say he was a great painter because others have a better technique. But he does what he needs to do and does it so well.
All of the surrealists got into my head, but Magritte was so direct. I liked how immediate his work was, whereas the others were more abstract. His work can be complex but in a sense he takes cliché images and puts them together in ways that surprise you. There's a night scene, but the sky is day [The Dominion of Light, 1953], there's a pair of shoes that are actually feet [The Red Model, 1934]. His work has an initial gag, but the stuff sticks with you because it's in some ways profound.
He is so firmly lodged in my brain that frequently I'll see something and think, "Oh, that's a bit Magrittean". I'll look out of my window at dusk and see the house across the street catching the last bit of sunlight, except the sky behind it is already night. He captures moments of light in the day that are just odd. I used to think it was a fantasy of his, but I now find it happening all the time. Like every good artist, he makes us see the everyday differently but he does it without the pretension of so many other artists. That's another thing I like about him, that he didn't have this serious "I am an artist" approach. He went to work with a suit and a briefcase, everything about him was taking the piss out of art yet at the same time he was a wonderful artist.
In my work, I can never find a direct line between what I've done and where it's come from, but I do know where the influences are and they all end up in a kind of Irish stew in my brain. I would never want to say: "I nicked that from Magritte", because that's criminal investigation time! But it would be fair to say that with the landscapes and blue skies in theImaginarium of Doctor Parnassus I could've been stealing from either Magritte or Microsoft Windows. What Microsoft did was a direct steal from Magritte! Other people paint more elaborate skies, but it's the clarity of his painting – the perfect blue sky with the perfect clouds floating in it – that's just so appealing.
Were the other Pythons influenced by Magritte? No. I'm not sure what the word is for being illiterate at art. Maybe blind. That's what they were. Years ago, we were in a hotel in Munich and John [Cleese] called me and said: "I'm going over to the Pinakothek. Do you want to come and explain art to me?" So I went along and I didn't explain art to him because that's not what I do, but I did get him looking at a thermostat on the wall and discussing it in great detail. We managed to gather quite a crowd.
I suppose with my work I'm always trying to get people to see what the world is capable of, to show how it can be seen in a very different way and Magritte did that all the time. When you start thinking differently like that, reality becomes a kind of game. In the 60s, people took drugs to achieve that state, but for a lot of people it was enough to go and look at a Magritte painting.

JEFF KOONS Artist

Whenever I drive in any mountainous region and look at the line against the sky, I think of Magritte. And whenever I see beautiful, perfect clouds in the sky, he's the first thing that comes to mind. I think there is a humanity, a generosity and a kindness to others in Magritte's work. He takes the viewer into account. And I have always found the economy of his images very moving. They communicate very purely and directly. One of the most profound pieces of Magritte's is Discovery [1928]. It is an image of a woman whose flesh resembles the grain in wood. There is this aspect of Magritte which is about dealing with the world around us, and there is a certain materiality, a reality about that world that he creates, even though he makes these strange juxtapositions.
It is hard to imagine a lot of the computer programs that we work with in daily life, such as Photoshop, without the influence of Magritte. We owe to Magritte the many ways that we see the world through transparency or gradation. So I hold him in high esteem for showing us how images can be overlapped, or how they can be gradated into each other. I wouldn't say I've ever made a piece in direct response to his work, but I can see there are works that show an interest in what he was doing. Take Les Idées Claires [1955], one of the two Magritte paintings that I have loaned to the Tate exhibition. Here, you see a rock hovering over the ocean underneath a cloud. I can associate that with one of my Equilibrium Tanksculptures of basketballs suspended in vitrines of water.
© This is an edited extract from Tate ETC magazine

NOEL FIELDING Artist and co-creator of The Mighty Boosh

I love how Magritte's paintings initially look quite normal. He lures you in with the colours and compositions and shortly after the concept blows your mind. You think: "That's just a normal… aagh!"  They're like Trojan horses.
I've still got the first book I had of Magritte's work. It's stolen from the library, that's so bad! I was about 12 years old and looking at the paintings was a bit like taking drugs. They're such strong, stimulating images for a child because at that age you don't drink, you don't take drugs and you're not really interested in girls.
The first painting that made me think, "Oh my god, that's something amazing" was Young Girl Eating a Bird [1927]. I liked how enigmatic Magritte's work was, how you didn't quite know what was going on. Surrealism and absurdity, Monty Python and Vic Reeves, they were the first things that I really buzzed off and thought, "wow, that's what I want to do". The fact that there was a surrealist movement really appealed to me too, that they met up and drank crème de menthe in weird Parisian cafes. I loved that these grown men like Breton and Magritte would really seriously discuss poems, automatic writing and painting and then put things in their magazines like a man throwing a rock at a priest. I guess it was quite punk at the time.
Magritte's paintings always make me laugh. I don't care if other people say they're not funny. I find it ridiculous when you walk around a gallery and people are just looking at something obviously funny and stroking their chins. A Magritte painting such as the reverse mermaid [Collective Invention, 1934] is like a stand-up joke. Comedians do those reverse jokes all the time. When I was quite young, I did a painting of a cat phoning the fire brigade and an old lady stuck up a tree.
It's the juxtaposition in the paintings that is also very stimulating. I think it was Terry Jones who said something about two disparate ideas coming together and creating a star. And that's what it's all about for me. In The Mighty Boosh, we have a character called Old Gregg who is a merman but he's also a bit like [musician] Rick James. Those two things shouldn't ever go together. But when you get it right it's perfect.
Some of my own paintings are definitely influenced by Magritte. The stillness and the weirdness of Bryan Ferry with a Kite, in which Bryan Ferry has got a kite for a head, that's one of them. But he was also one of mine and Julian Barratt's joint favourites and that's apparent in the Boosh. For ages, we even wanted to have a pipe as an actual character who floated around and talked. But it was too difficult. You can see from what Julian wears that he likes the whole Magritte aesthetic – the bowler hats, the trench coats and the weird city-gent-gone-wrong look. Together, lookswise, we're like Dalí and Magritte. Dalí was more my type: flamboyant, a mad freak.
My new show for E4 has even more references to art. It's set in a place that's supposed to be my house, I look like a Bollywood Elvis and my cleaner is a robotic Andy Warhol. At one point, Warhol borrows a rucksack from Magritte to go on holiday with Jackson Pollock and Keith Haring and when he turns around a train comes out of the rucksack, like the train coming out of the fireplace in Time Transfixed [1938].I say to Warhol: "I bet that gets a bit annoying", and he responds, in his robotic voice: "No, you can get loads in there."
Magritte's paintings are insane, but they're often really good one-liners so they're a great source for a surreal comedy show.

ALICE ANDERSON Artist

When Magritte was 13, his mother committed suicide and, apparently, when the police retrieved her body from the river Sambre, Magritte was there and he saw how her face was covered by her dress. My own art and the research I do around it is all about neuroscience, how brains function, how memory functions, so this episode in Magritte's life and the way it subsequently influenced his art really intrigues me. If you look atThe Lovers [1928], where two people have clothes over their face, I think that work specifically draws on that episode with his mother. But more generally, his work explores memory, his funny perception of reality and for me that all comes from his memory of that event. In Le Blanc-Seing[1965], for example, which features a woman on a horse in a wood, there are almost two paintings. The way his paintings constantly shift between what is real, something he can see or saw, and something he really wants to see is what draws me into his work.

GAVIN TURK Artist

One of the great things about Magritte's work, especially The Treachery of Images (This Is Not a Pipe) [1921] is it dismantles the idea of pictures themselves. It makes the audience consider what they're looking at and take a step back. You can see that Magritte painted to experiment with his own thinking. His work is a thinking through pictures. I probably first came across the work when I was on my art foundation course and I remember my sense of relief to find that his work was immediately gettable. Some people today don't identify with the themes he's exploring or perhaps can't see past the cliché. But the way he suggestively starts to make the audience question how they see things is something that I try to include in my own art.
There are two works of Magritte's which I've more or less directly appropriated in my works Oscar and Cripple. They are The Ellipsis[1948] and The Cripple [1948], from his vache period, when he started painting more loosely, almost in a semi-expressionistic style. This period was a disaster for Magritte: the critics panned the work and the collectors ran away. But I love that he was fed up with being expected to be a certain kind of artist and was challenging his signature style. This new style almost allowed the audience in slightly closer, to get more of an insight into Magritte himself. I made two sculptures, three dimensional self-portraits, that were then reconfigured to look like these two paintings by Magritte. I was dealing with the idea of my own personal representation, my own ideas of authorship.
I also like the happy oddness, the sense of the uncanny in Magritte's work. In a way, there's a non-threatening but uncomfortable sensation. In an era before Photoshop, he slammed together things from different worlds and played with scale. If I were to draw parallels between his work and mine it would be that we combine disparate ideas or use this sense of the uncanny to make proposed alternatives. A work of mine like the bronze binbag sculpture is a good example – it seems straightforward, it's a shiny binbag, but then it starts to make you ask questions. It's a painted bronze sculpture, so there's this sense of permanence when actually a black plastic bag is probably a key symbol of impermanence.

JOHN BALDESSARI Artist

A Magritte work that I always return to is The Treachery of Images, because we have it at the LA County Museum. It's a kind of touchstone of his. He's affirming the slipperiness, or as he calls it the treachery, of images, of language – that a word and an object have no necessary connection other than that we collectively assigned that word and that object to go together. I really appreciate his word play.
He also does a lot of the things I try to do with my work, making life a little difficult or a little challenging for the viewer who would like things to be comfortable. I think the reason Magritte has been so influential on popular culture is because he deals with images that we know – a person or a house or a street or a horse.
The images aren't misshapen or distorted – he just puts them together in combinations that we don't usually think about. And in terms of advertising, Magritte and Dalí probably have been the most influential artists, so much that we don't even see it anymore. Take, for example, CBS TV's logo, the eye. I believe that comes directly from him [from the work The False Mirror, 1928]. He's everywhere.

EDWARD HALL Theatre director

In the theatre you try and create a sense of mystery. You're raising questions, putting ordinary situations in front of people and shining new light on them. Magritte does that in his paintings, using objects that you know really well. When I directed Twelfth Night, there was a moment in my production where Viola, disguised as a boy, looks in the mirror and sees herself for the first time as a man. That's always made me think ofThe False Mirror. Both of those things are about seeing something you've never seen before in a reflection of something familiar.
I had a picture of The Human Condition [1933] on my wall when I was a teenager which I'd cut out of a magazine because it looked interesting. My favourite now is The Treachery of Images. That's about not boiling things down to their lowest common denominator or about looking beyond what you think something is. The pipe expresses that idea in its simplest form. Of course it's not a pipe! Try and smoke it!
When you're working on a play, you're constantly trying not to make assumptions. As soon as you make assumptions, you stop investigating – what a story might mean, what the possibilities are within a scene. Go back to Greek drama, where the principle is that the opposite is always true, that raises as many questions as it answers. Shakespeare also challenges your expectations of people's behaviour in all sorts of ways. That's why his plays are constantly intriguing to watch. And in essence that's what Magritte does, too.

DAVID SHRIGLEY Artist

When I first became interested in art, at the age of 13 or 14, I was drawn to the otherness of art, the peculiarity and anarchy of it. For me, Magritte really represented that. Then, when I went to art school in the late 80s, I realised that his paintings were not very good, technically speaking. His work seemed a bit kitsch. But later I became interested in them again, as a vehicle for ideas. I've always loved the simplicity of his work and I think it becomes more profound the more you consider it.
In Magritte's oeuvre there are quite a few odd paintings that are jarring. One of my favourites is Young Girl Eating a Bird, an image of a girl eating a bird in front of a tree full of exotic-looking birds. As soon as I saw it, I thought, that's a really strange, perverse picture, whereas a lot of the others seem quite sanitised.
Growing up in provincial England, I lived a long way from London so my introduction to contemporary art was through Thames and Hudson books. Magritte is illustrative in style, so you can get it without necessarily having to see the physical object of the painting, because you're still invited to think about the idea.
It's hard to trace an artist's influence, but I think Magritte is a important image maker, a conceptual painter. He's more like Duchamp or Picabia. For me, he is the quintessential surrealist.
Additional research by Gemma Kappala-Ramsamy
René Magritte: The Pleasure Principle is at Tate Liverpool from Friday until 16 October

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