Markus Lüpertz at Michael Werner, London (as viewed online, January 2021)
In his latest
show at Michael Werner in London, Markus Lüpertz
reveals that capacity which alienates us from Arcadia through our ability to refashion
nature toward our desires and needs. The same capacity also seems behind the
epic quests toward redemption and salvation embodied in the classical ideal. His
focus on the concept of Arcadia, along with his choice of types of figuration
within in, seems to call for a grand synthesis in which a new relationship to nature
becomes part of the overall scheme of individual and social development.
Lüpertz
takes figures from Italian Renaissance and Dutch Golden Age paintings and uses
them in landscapes primarily based on the wilderness surrounding his studio. He
could be acknowledging the lingering meaning and impact of the classical stage
of art but also implying that the figures present a type of flawed visual
language which must be tweaked. Or, the flawed concept of humanity as the
measure of all things, and the capacity of humanity to continually fall and
rise and overcome, or the inherent strength of the figures in Renaissance and
Dutch paintings might be the language being spoken vis-à-vis
nature in these works. Is Lüpertz
implying we are still, in a de facto sense, in this classical stage, despite
all the superficial innovations in the visual arts from the Dutch Golden Age
onward and all the talk of post-modernity and metamodernity? So Lüpertz strips the classically inspired
figures of clothing and places them in landscapes he is familiar with, but
declares the landscapes to be Arcadia.
What could it mean, then, to begin with figures from the Renaissance
and Dutch Golden Age of painting? Well, who were these folks? They were,
primarily, the patrons who funded the Renaissance or Dutch Golden Age. These
were power brokers. In Italy they often demanded figures from Greek mythology
to be in commissioned works. Their demands influenced the development of art. Lüpertz is starting out with visual
imagery pleasing to the Italian and Dutch middle to upper classes. So Lüpertz
tips his hat, as it were, to the financial basis of art which forms the core of
the canon we see in our museums. He is acknowledging that you just do not get
art without an economic system, and the economic system determines, to a great
extent, what art you get. Basically, your buyers are your art. What they want
to buy gets placed in a museum someday.
He is placing naked patrons of the arts and their whimsies in
a bucolic paradise. And why does he use the forests around his studio for
Arcadia? Well, our concept of Arcadia is flawed as well and based on the
limited experiences city dwellers have had during brief jaunts into nature. The
big irony involved in landscape painting, after all, is that it was begun in
Holland, the UK and Germany by city-dwelling artists who knew very little of
the workings of nature and who imputed their romanticized or mystical visions
onto dirt, mountains, rivers and trees. Arcadia embodied the concept of nature
as the placid setting for an easy life.
But we also have to realize that Arcadia or Paradise, as a
pure form of nature where humankind lived in innocence pursuing a sustainable
type of life, is the core of the Western religious tradition. The fact that we
screwed this up becomes the beginning of our holy book. We do not view Adam and
Eve as early Homo Sapiens with dark skin hunting and gathering through African
savannahs or Anatolia. We view our concept of Paradise due to a classical
tradition as being populated by husky, muscular men and women of the white
race. Albrecht Dürer had a bulked-up white couple in that garden. The
exact race which ruined Paradise and brought about industrialization and the
destruction of our planet are suddenly embedded into a sustainable Paradise at
the very beginning. Meaty white folks in Paradise getting tricked by a snake
into losing everything becomes the beginning of white history and religion and
the basis of the quest to get back to that garden. The race which ultimately began
the destruction of nature created the ideal of the classical figure living in harmony
in Arcadia. But nobody is just relaxing and playing the flute in Lüpertz’ Arcadia – thought, planning,
anxiety and cunning are apparent in body gestures and facial expressions.
It could be that Lüpertz
asserts, by doing this, that the potential for self-destruction was always
inherent in humanity and that there was never a stage of innocence. Nature,
take it for what it is, provided a sustainable system and we were never fully
integrated into it – even as hunter-gatherers we caused extinctions. If you
take a bunch of rats and put them on an island and let them reproduce, they
will ultimately devour all the food on the island, kill and devour each other
and the king rat will starve to death. Despite our fully developed neo-cortex,
the development of humanity seems to involve such a situation as well, as we
have made no concerted attempt to control population growth or the emissions of
pollutants into our atmosphere developed to indulge the consumer whims of an ever-growing
multitude. Like rats we, apparently, will eat through and use everything until
nothing is left. We dream of Arcadia as the starting point, dream of a return, but
our oceans are turning into acid and temperatures rise each year.
When we view Lüpertz’
human figures, they are monumental or stone-like in nature. Alienated,
scheming, planning, partially inside and partially divorced from and at an
advantage toward nature. Nudity does not make these figures seem more natural. They
are the drama queens which emerged from nature to inadvertently destroy nature.
This new relationship to nature also allows for the human figure to undertake
the grandiose mythic journey. Indeed, Adam and Eve can be found among the
figures in this show. Adam is shown on multiple canvases, in two instances he sits
in the shadow, as if newly awakened, looking on to a sun-bathed landscape of
possibilities. Another is called Anticipation Adam in which he is
literally divided from nature by a thick white line. Eve is frozen in thought
as she prepares to eat of the knowledge of good and evil. The fall of humanity
is already planted inside of her, she has not taken a bite yet. There is no
snake in the vicinity.
We see a ghostly
figure on a white horse transitioning through nature. Nature is not the end or
purpose, it is the middle ground between urban centers that one must traverse
for one’s safety, comfort and development. In a painting labeled Jason’s Farewell,
the masculine (desire) is departing from the feminine (fulfilment) as an aged
man looks on. Actaeon is turned into an animal after viewing a goddess bathing.
He will be torn to pieces by his own dogs. His transgression seems akin to Eve’s and
maybe Jason’s departure, which will lead to so much tragedy. We see a black
boat beckoning a journey. A tree fork is embraced by a female nude. We see a
female nude racing down an allée evoking a desire for escape.
The theme of the
show to me is that we have couched our hope in our transgression. Both come
from the same source. One implication is that we have to choose whether nature
or humanity will be the dominant force, although we dream of and talk of a
synthesis. One, however, most likely must become integrated into the other for
the survival of both. The recent work of Lüpertz seems to question whether
there is any other alternative.
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