Tag Archives: Caravaggio

Caravaggio, Italian artist active in Rome, Naples, Malta and Sicily between 1593 and 1610, a formative influence on the Baroque school of painting.

The Lebowski Cycle – Sacred and Profane Love

Sacred and Profane Love (After Titian) • Joe Forkan 2011 oil on linen, 72" x 40" (182.88 cm x 101.60 cm)

I’m currently finishing the framing of the last of the paintings in the studio headed for the show at the Frank M. Doyle Arts Pavilion. I framed 10 paintings this last weekend, with help from some friends. Delivering work on Monday.

Sacred and Profane Love Titian - c. 1513-1514 oil on canvas 118 cm × 279 cm (46" × 110") Galleria Borghese, Rome

My studio is going to seem really empty after sending off 14 large scale paintings for the show.

This piece is based on Titian’s Sacred and Profane Love. I’ll write more on the series once it is all installed, but wanted to post this recently completed painting from the Cycle.

Detail - Sacred and Profane Love (After Titian) • Joe Forkan 2011

The Lebowski Cycle – The Lamentation

The Lamentation • Joe Forkan 2006-2011 Oil on Linen 72" x 40"

Here is another recently completed painting from The Lebowski Cycle. This one is titled The Lamentation, and I was working with a couple of specific Lamentation paintings in mind (by Rubens and Giotto), but I was also looking to the larger tradition of paintings dealing with this subject matter.

The Lamentation Peter Paul Rubens 1614 Oil on wood 41 cm x 53 cm (16" x 20.86") Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

What interests me about paintings from the Passion is the complex appeal to emotion that floats through them.

But that appeal is complicated by the passage of time and the shifting cultural context through which the work is seen, and by the conversation that surrounds the art (the historical importance of the paintings, the biography of the artist, the formal and stylistic structures of the depictions, etc.).

“…You look at the art of the Renaissance, mostly created by the Roman Catholic Church and commissioned by the Roman Catholic Church. Does Renaissance art as it has manifested itself over 400 years represent the church? It does not represent the church.

The kind of art we like today became the kind of art we like today because people took that art and used it for their personal ends. They disregarded its ideological content, and took it to mean something that they valued. So, if you like a Caravaggio today, that doesn’t mean that you believe in the Counter-Reformation principle of the communion, right? And so, well, then what do we like?

Well, we’re still figuring that out.”

— Dave Hickey

Meaning is always migrating. But with all of this ebb and flow, it can be a bit of a shock to wander through a museum paying close attention to the fact that, no matter what the intentions of the artists, a huge percentage of these lovingly crafted works of art are brutal, grizzly images of cruelty, torture, suffering, death, and grief. The body count is truly staggering. How many times have artists crucified Christ or skewered St. Sebastian?

Giotto di Bondone (1267-1337), Cappella Scrovegni a Padova, Life of Christ, Lamentation (The Mourning of Christ)

And people complain about violence on TV and in movies…

“…There are issues worth advancing in images worth admiring; and the truth is never “plain,” nor appearances ever “sincere.” To try to make them so is to neutralize the primary, gorgeous eccentricity of imagery in Western culture since the Reformation: the fact that it cannot be trusted, that imagery is always presumed to be proposing something contestable and controversial. This is the sheer, ebullient, slithering, dangerous fun of it. No image is presumed inviolable in our dance hall of visual politics, and all images are potentially powerful.”

— Dave Hickey (The Invisible Dragon: Four Essays on Beauty)

Neither here nor there…

 

Painting the Sea Cliffs near Ballycastle, June, 2010

My residency at the Ballinglen Arts Foundation in Ireland has come to an end.

I was lucky to be in Ireland for a very temperate summer, and was outside nearly every day painting, exploring, or both. With daylight lasting from 4:30am until 11:00pm, there was plenty of time to work and enjoy being in such an amazing place.

I had planned on posting paintings to the site while in Ballycastle, but decided I’d rather be wandering around Ireland than staring into a computer screen.

I’ll put some work up soon.

(I finally got to see Caravaggio’s The Taking of Christ, which was in Rome when I arrived in Dublin. It is now back at the National Gallery. It was great to see it in person, especially after basing one of the Lebowski paintings on it.)

The Lebowski Cycle – The Supper at Emmaus

Supper at Emmaus (After Caravaggio) • Joe Forkan 2006-2009 oil on linen 96"x 38"

This painting is based on Caravaggio’s Supper at Emmaus from 1601, which illustrates a dramatic moment from the story of Jesus’ resurrection. I was interested in Caravaggio’s take on the story because of his depiction of the moment of discovery, when the disciple’s “eyes were opened”, and for his symbolic use of the still life to reinforce the central idea of his painting.

Supper at Emmaus Caravaggio 1601 Oil on canvas 141 cm × 196.2 cm (55.5 in x 77.25 in) National Gallery, London

The symbolic references used in the paintings of this time period are somewhat obscure to us now, it is still clear from looking at the work that each figure, element, and gesture was an important consideration in the presentation of the story, all subsumed into the final image. One of the qualities that I most enjoy about narrative painting is that there is a clear story to be presented, but the specific events of the narrative give you great latitude for formal, conceptual or expressive shifts and digressions that can set a different tone or shift the story’s implications.

In my painting, I was looking to create a kind of visual and narrative tension between the figures, the dramatic space, and the still life, one that is suggestive of a larger narrative, and that hopefully moves beyond the specifics of the Jesus story, the Lebowski story, or the Caravaggio story, but retains a shifting, if uneasy relationship between all three, in addition to where I am trying to go with the content and the formal elements.

Detail from the Supper at Emmaus • Joe Forkan 2009

I hesitate to be any more forthcoming about my intentions for these paintings, in that I don’t want to set a specific read for anyone else. Painting is, after all, a language of its own and in this regard, I will let the paintings speak for themselves.

This painting was one of the most complex of The Lebowski Cycle. Its scale was daunting (96″ x 38″ / 243.84 cm x 96.52 cm), with 3 main figures that are slightly over life-size, and a deep space that I wanted to paint in a specific way. I wanted the background to be largely empty, but not in the way that Caravaggio’s paintings are empty, through the use of chiaroscuro (the contrasting effects of intense light and deep shadow). I was looking to represent space and to convey a sense of light and shadow through the relationships of large color shapes, rather than using a more dramatic recession into shadow.

This painting will be included in the Laguna Art Museums exhibition The OsCene 2010 –  Contemporary Art and Culture in Orange County from February 21st – May 16, 2010.

The Lebowski Cycle – Process: The Supper at Emmaus

Supper at Emmaus (After Caravaggio) • Joe Forkan (in progress) oil on linen 96″x 38″

Unlike most of the paintings in The Lebowski Cycle, I started The Supper at Emmaus using an indirect painting method, and worked up the image as a grisaille.

In the early stages of this series, I made a trip to Europe specifically to look at narrative paintings and Baroque era masterworks. I spent a lot of time with Caravaggio’s Supper at Emmaus (which is currently on loan to The Art Institute of Chicago). Many of the master works that I am referencing used indirect painting methods, and I was interested in employing this method to develop a strong play of light and shadow in this painting.

Process images from The Supper At Emmaus • joe Forkan 2006-2009

I worked up the main figures, the still life and the basic shapes of the background entirely in low contrast, high value gray and white, and then developed the figures from there with glazing and scumbling. However, I wanted the space to be defined more by color relationships than by the value relationships that tend to define space in Caravaggio’s work, so the space was built with more contemporary notions about color in mind. The ideas of Hans Hoffmann, Josef Albers and Albert Munsell, tend to inform my use of color in general (although painting from nature is always the best teacher).

The painting underwent considerable changes, especially in the background and foreground areas, with thicker applications of more opaque paint, although many areas are still handled more indirectly.

There is really no way to accurately identify in sketches and studies how color relationships will actually read once they are translated onto a large scale painting, so there was a lot of trial and error in the process of defining the space of the room in relation to the figures.

Two studies exploring direct and indirect methods based on The Coronation of the Virgin by Diego Velazquez • Joe Forkan 2001

It’s can be difficult to talk about painting techniques in isolation from the ideas that one is using the techniques to express.

At play in the paintings are the differing sources, stories and visual references, seriousness and humor, and a wide range of possible readings. These are subtle relationships that direct the evolution of the paintings, but everything is expressed through the language of painting, and the language of painting is also part of what I’m trying to talk about.

So the work grows based on the dynamics between these elements, rather than a march towards some premeditated notion of what the finished painting should look like. Sometimes that means the process ends abruptly, or months of work are obliterated and begun again. It may not be the most efficient system, but this approach does let the paintings evolve beyond their initial conception. I have seen painters who plan their work, and then basically start at one corner and work their way across the canvas, and once they hit the far edge, they’re finished. I’ve never had much success painting that way.

Detail from The Supper at Emmaus • Joe Forkan 2009

My early teachers always stressed working paintings up all at once. The idea was that everything is in play on the canvas, and each mark affects all the relationships throughout the entire piece.

At that time Neo-Expressionism was all the rage, so rough drawing, emotional color, and violent mark-making were de rigueur. The studio was more boxing ring than laboratory or atelier. Painting was to be done on the balls of one’s feet. It was a struggle and an endurance test and the smell of modernist, two-fisted Action Painting still hung heavily in the air.

Even Hans Hofmann’s famous “push/pull” theory, concerning “the visual tension between forces and counter-forces” in a painting sounds more like a wrestling move than an art theory. Push. Pull. Attack the painting. Charge the image. Lots of action verbs.

I like this physical approach to painting, but at the time, much of it was directed towards the production of very aggressive political paintings, which I wasn’t much interested in making. (I was a political cartoonist at the time, so I already had a place to grind that particular ax).

Many of those formal strategies have remained a part of my process, and I do think that this all-over approach can lend coherence and life to a painting, (and the studio still feels like a boxing ring some days).

An example of a more physical approach to painting from 2002 • Arcadia Joe Forkan

It’s probably not the easiest way to engage a body of work referencing old master paintings with believable figures in believable space, and I did dial it back a bit for this particular painting. There were still some dramatic changes in the process, however.

Part of the appeal of this work for me is trying to build compelling images out of the collision of so many ideas and methods that seem at such cross purposes.

I love this Chuck Close quote about painting from an interview he did with Charlie Rose:

“Painting is one of the most magical of mediums, maybe in my mind, maybe the most, because it transcends its physical reality. You know, its just colored dirt, on some cloth, wrapped around some wood strips. It makes space where there is no space, and it conjures up images from life experience. You know, paintings can make you cry, and its just colored dirt. If you think about sculpture, sculpture occupies a real space, you can move around it, and relate to it the same way you relate to this table …but a painting is a magical window, and it’s just the most fun to play around with and build these things out of colored dirt”.