Jacques-Louis David, "Madame Recamier" (1800), The Louvre, Paris
I had a conversation last evening concerning the lack of sex in contemporary art and what that spells out for us collectively. As I noted in my
last post, Jonathan Jones is a bit upset with artists. He feels that now that we are moving from an abstract to a more figurative philosophy of art that we should be more frank about the portrayal of sex. Some may argue that we are post-sexual…some may say that we too puritanical…..some may even argue that what defines sexual is in a state of flux. What really is shocking anymore?
Perhaps this goes back to something I have discussed before — the ever changing definition of beauty. The painting to the left is of Madame Recamier by Jacques-Louis David. In her time, she was considered the greatest beauty of her generation. She inspired dozens of artists to archive her beauty. When I look at her I see beauty in a truly classical sense. Yet her beauty does not define beauty to me, it is merely one image which fits under this umbrella.
Hughie O'Donoghue, "Blue Crucifixion", Irish Museum of Modern Art, Dublin
Now what about this painting by Irishman Hughie O’Donoghue? Other than the fact that is has color and is applied on a canvas, it has nothing in common with Madame Recamier. But is it beautiful? To me — yes, hauntingly so. The emotion and mood (not to mention that powerful blue) of this painting speak to the same parts of my brain that a beautiful portrait by David, Sargent or Rembrandt does. Perhaps from this I can hope that the lack of sexuality in art is something that Jonathan Jones and I are just not seeing correctly. Maybe in the same way that beauty’s boundaries are widening, what is perceived as sexual in art, or at least that which excites us to the same degree, can also be expanded and seen in places we never would expected them to be.
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