"I have always sought perfection, and believe it or not, perfection of form. In any work of mine you will find a plastic form, viewed objectively and purely for itself, subject to the laws of light and shade, displayed with the limited resources of the 'modelé'... my art is limited to the capabilities of chiaroscuro." - Leon Spiiliaert, translation by J.L.
The beach at Ostend, Belgium is known for the phenomenon called 'blue apple, green sea," a trick of light that makes the sky seems to fall on the water, changing the colors of sea and sand in the flash of an eye.
Leon Spilliaert - The Gust of Wind, 1904, Musee d'Ixelles.
Leon Spilliaert - Digue la nuit (Dike at Night)), 1908, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.
Leon Spilliaert - The Kursaal at Night, 1908.
Leon Spilliaert - Vertigo, 1909, Musee des Beaux-Arts, Ostend.
Leon Spilliaert - Les Postes) The Posts, 1910, private collection, Belgium.
Leon Spilliaert - L'Elevation, 1910, private collection ?
Leon Spillliaert - La Baigneuse (The Swimmer) , 1910, Belgian Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Brussles.
The beach at Ostend, Belgium is known for the phenomenon called 'blue apple, green sea," a trick of light that makes the sky seems to fall on the water, changing the colors of sea and sand in the flash of an eye.
An
artist possessed of strange magic, Leon Spilliaert (1881-1946) has often
been regarded as a creator of worrisome
and even disturbing imagery.
Acknowledged for his masterly use
of gouache, pencil, India ink, and charcoal,
Spilliaert suffered from ulcers and a concomitant insomnia that made walk the dead streets and the eerily empty shore in front of Ostend's famously long promenade late at night. On the
evidence of the images, you have to put on blinders to miss his acute interest
in the others who inhabit these spaces. Spilliaert's Fillette au grand chapeau (1909, Offa Gallery, Knokke-le-Zoute - above) dates from seven years before his marriage to Rachel Vergison and nine years before the birth of his daughter Madeleine, but the humor and even joy of the wind and the other elements is there already and in full.
Spilliaert's friend, the symbolist poet Emile Verhaeren, wrote that the silence of the night was so large that even the ocean listened. In Digue la nuit (Dike at Night) the verticals beams cast by the streetlights cut through the moist air hanging over the embankment something like what daylight does to the water, or so Spilliaert makes us see it. The Kursaal at Night, from the same year, 1908, can be viewed as either remarkably abstract (in retrospect) or as a surreal precursor to Giorgio de Chirico's deserted plazas.
His figures are enigmatic but more varied in their particulars than received opinion allows. Some do appear as emblems of waiting, anxiety or loneliness (The Gust, Vertigo) while others like Les Postes and L'elevation are fanciful without being in any way sinister. Balance La Baigneuese, a woman relaxing on the seawall with her little dog after a swim, with the the nightmare vision of a woman perched high over an undefined abyss, clinging to the stairs in fear of Vertigo.
In 1904, the year of The Gust, Spilliaert's work was exhibited alongside that of Pablo Picasso at Galerie Clovis Sagot in Paris. Yes, there are noticeable affinities with Fernand Khnopff, Edvard Munch, and Odilon Redon but Spilliaert's work could stand all comparisons. His nocturnal scenes are highlighted by splinters of light, delicately gilded in pinks and blues; his pastels of fishermen, women walking dogs, or peasants camped on the piers, are expertly modulated in color chalks.
His figures are enigmatic but more varied in their particulars than received opinion allows. Some do appear as emblems of waiting, anxiety or loneliness (The Gust, Vertigo) while others like Les Postes and L'elevation are fanciful without being in any way sinister. Balance La Baigneuese, a woman relaxing on the seawall with her little dog after a swim, with the the nightmare vision of a woman perched high over an undefined abyss, clinging to the stairs in fear of Vertigo.
In 1904, the year of The Gust, Spilliaert's work was exhibited alongside that of Pablo Picasso at Galerie Clovis Sagot in Paris. Yes, there are noticeable affinities with Fernand Khnopff, Edvard Munch, and Odilon Redon but Spilliaert's work could stand all comparisons. His nocturnal scenes are highlighted by splinters of light, delicately gilded in pinks and blues; his pastels of fishermen, women walking dogs, or peasants camped on the piers, are expertly modulated in color chalks.
Spilliaert was a true Oostendenaar, a native of Dutch-speaking West Flanders. He
grew up in the coastal beach resort of Ostend where his family ran a perfume shop that
catered to the many tourists attracted by the beachfront hotels. Yes, he read books by Edgar Allan Poe and Nietzsche, as did so many of his
contemporaries. It provokes a
smile to think of the diffident young Spilliaert following James Ensor around Ostend, too shy to
introduced himself to the older,
established artist, even though Leon's uncle Emile was a member along with Ensor of
the Cercle des Beaux Arts d'Ostende. Ensor, now there
was a man of seriously perturbing sensibilities.
Leon Spilliaert - The Gust of Wind, 1904, Musee d'Ixelles.
Leon Spilliaert - Digue la nuit (Dike at Night)), 1908, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.
Leon Spilliaert - The Kursaal at Night, 1908.
Leon Spilliaert - Vertigo, 1909, Musee des Beaux-Arts, Ostend.
Leon Spilliaert - Les Postes) The Posts, 1910, private collection, Belgium.
Leon Spilliaert - L'Elevation, 1910, private collection ?
Leon Spillliaert - La Baigneuse (The Swimmer) , 1910, Belgian Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Brussles.
2 comments:
Just as compositions, these are so strong, before you get to all the subtleties of color and other elements you point out. He's particularly good at a figure in a landscape, seen from behind.
Neil, by all accounts Spilliaert did a lot of solitary walking. It's maddening to think of him following Ensor around the streets of Ostend and never having the nerve to introduce himself.
Unlike Ensor, though, he viewed people not just with foreboding. There's a lot of wit in his images - or at least smiling - in his work, especially of children and dogs.
No wonder there's a life-sized monument of Vertigo on the beach at Ostend.
Post a Comment