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Art critic Marina Khaikina and psychoanalyst Andrey Rossokhin examine the painting and tell us what they know and feel. What for? So that, (not) agreeing with them, we are more clearly aware of our own attitude to the picture, the plot, the artist and to ourselves.
“She is uncomfortable neither in her own body nor in the world”
Marina Khaikina, art critic: “This is a portrait, but not of the soul, but of the body of a person, made with the utmost naturalism. Attention to the body is accentuated by a simple stroke — the model’s eyes are closed. In the awkward and frozen posture of this woman, there is neither calm nor relaxation, only tension. It would seem that she is not lying, but standing, because under her feet is the floor. But the artist looks at her from above, and this creates the feeling that the figure is reclining against the background of crumpled sheets. The model seems to be sliding down, and only the hand gives it a fragile support. I feel how bad and uncomfortable this woman is in the world that surrounds her. He, like sheets, takes on new forms with every glance of me, changes before my eyes, and the model is motionless, and not of its own accord. The fabric mercilessly exposes the body, pressing it to the surface, making it impossible to move. Set by the folds of matter, endlessly changing shape, the jumping rhythm does not allow you to relax even for a second. The woman in this picture is uncomfortable even in her own body. Remember the famous female nudes — lying Venus or Olympia, Odalisque and Macha — they feel great both in their body and in the surrounding space. They look at the viewer, they are peaceful and happy. And here it’s the other way around. Freud’s heroine is not naked, but undressed, as if deprived of at least some kind of armor, protection. This picture, like all of Freud’s work, is essentially about the loneliness of a person and whether it is possible to live in this world and how. I’m not at all sure that the artist believes in man. It seems to me that he is trying to deal with him and deal with him. ”
«Challenge our narcissistic self-image»
Andrey Rossokhin, psychoanalyst: “The first feeling I get is disgust. I do not want to look at this body, it seems ugly, repulsive, I smell its unattractive smell. The rags and sheets against which the model is standing look dirty. I want to turn around and leave. But when you find the strength to overcome disgust and allow yourself to immerse yourself in this picture, it becomes obvious: this picture of Lucian Freud is a breakthrough to something deeply human. “Standing Against Rags” essentially challenges our narcissistic self-image and confronts the reality of aging and death. The artist’s grandfather, the psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud, has a work called The Psychopathology of Everyday Life (1), in which he confronts us with avoidable sides of psychic reality. And now, almost a hundred years later, his grandson paints a picture that also confronts us with a frightening reality — this time of our body. I would call it The Psychopathology of the Ordinary Body.
- Pablo Picasso: “If there is a beard, it is Saint Joseph, if there is no beard, it is the Virgin Mary”
By showing living, imperfect flesh subject to change, disease, aging, Lucian Freud destroys our protective narcissistic self-image that was indulged in by classical depictions of the nude. All these beautiful women with perfect skin and proportions give us an ideal image of ourselves and protect us from the worries associated with the withering of the body, with death. But in fact, they completely alienate us from their body. Lucian Freud, emphasizing irregularities, spots, deformations, just shows the movement of life in our body. And it is no coincidence that rags were chosen as a background for the model’s body: they are, indeed, white, not dirty. It’s only in the perfect picture that white is always perfect white. But in reality, white has many shades that live their own lives, move and change, like our body. The posture of a woman is also important: it feels like she is hugging someone invisible — a man, a child, someone who is gone or absent. Maybe he exists in reality, or maybe only in the imagination of that woman. But this «someone» gives an additional meaning to the picture and allows you to accept this body, its smell, its imperfection, because it is able to feel, experience tenderness or loneliness, enjoy, in a word — live. I have practiced body-oriented therapy for many years. But I still don’t know what gave me more in the knowledge and acceptance of corporality — professional experience or Lucian Freud, who discovered for me this reality of a living, changing, inevitably mortal body.
1 Z. Freud «Psychopathology of everyday life», ABC, ABC — Atticus, 2014.