Playing the Indian Card

Showing posts with label Kurelek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kurelek. Show all posts

Monday, August 29, 2022

Behold Man without God

 



Canadian artist William Kurelek suffered severe depression throughout life—ameliorated, in later years, perhaps cured, by embracing Catholicism. 

This was due to childhood abuse by his father.

The experience influences much of his work.

This is a detail from his 1957 painting “Behold Man without God,” done at about the time of his conversion. The figure at the top left is recognizable as his father. His father appears again at the bottom right.

Together, they are a portrait of childhood abuse in the real world. Like most great artists, Kurelek is an astute psychologist.

First, the form of abuse that is featured most prominently in visual terms is verbal, not physical—at the bottom right. He is scourged by his father’s tongue. This is far worse than physical abuse. And worse still, it is not simply criticism or insult: it is bait and switch. A reward is dangled in front of him, here a loaf of bread, but one he will never receive. This is the standard technique of the true abuser, false promises and misdirection. This is worst of all, because it corrodes the sense of what is real and not real, true or untrue, right or wrong.

This produces the sense of disorientation and meaninglessness that is the core experience we call depression.

Kurelek is also shown here pulling his father seated. He is carrying him emotionally. This is the general experience of the family of a narcissist, even when the narcissist himself is mild mannered or favours them: the narcissist will lean on them emotionally. If the narcissist has a bad feeling, it is always the child or spouse’s responsibility to do something about it. The narcissist is emotionally weak, unable to walk on their own.

In the centre of the detail shown, a ring of people are trapped by the head or neck, under a sign that reads “Home Sweet Home.” A commentator on the museum site says this is a “group of abused children.” Not quite; not all are obviously children. As the sign tells us, it is an image of the dysfunctional family. They are all trapped by the head or neck by the shared family dynamic or delusion emanating from the narcissistic parent, even if the narcissistic parent is not present. They are all feebly biting each other and hitting one another with maces, wherever they can. 

This is the family situation the abusive parent will set up: they will deliberately foster enmity among all other members of the family. This increases their power and control. By, for example, promising this child or that child special favour, often in return for turning against a sibling.

Kurelek, the scapegoat, beaten at the top left, seems also to be one of the figures trapped at the neck by the revolving table. He seems to be the figure in the foreground.

That it is revolving is also important: no progress is ever made. It is all set up this way by the narcissist, who fears breaking out of a severely constrained orbit. The outside world, and progress itself, threatens his delusions of his own importance and his control. Any outside contacts or friendships will be discouraged in a dysfunctional family; they will be notably clannish. Any feints towards outside success will be discouraged. Any signs of originality of thought will be punished. One must conform to the family pattern. 

Hence the sense of meaninglessness and an inability to progress that most characterizes what we call “depression.” A sense of being trapped in a horribly banal world, like Dorothy at the outset of The Wizard of Oz. A sense that you, or those around you, are robotic. Because narcissists are.

Happily, Kurelek also points the way to break out of this horror: Through art, that sees the transcendent, and through religion, that takes us there.


Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Kurelek




"Crows leaving for South"


“I don't know much about art,” the saying goes, “but I know what I like.”

I'm not sure you ought to have to know anything in order to appreciate art. If you do, isn't the art to that extent a failure? Isn't it then just a dry academic exercise? What happened to the aesthetic experience? If a work of art needs an explanation, why bother with the art? Just read the explanation.

I guess that makes me a philistine. It certainly queers me on most contemporary art.

I like William Kurelek. For my money, he is the best visual artist Canada has produced. His work is not realistic—if you want realism, why not just take a photograph? The point of art is not to “hold the mirror up to nature.” Nature needs no mirror. It cannot see itself anyway. But neither is Kurelek abstract. Abstract art cannot convey much; it is nothing more than décor. Visual art's purpose is to depict not nature, but the imagination, which is, literally, the image-making faculty.

A Northern Nativity


This is just what Kurelek does so well. His images are like the images one sees in memory, or in a dream. They are, that is to say, symbolic. Not allegorical; they hit a deeper level. Again, if the referent for the symbol were obvious, there would be no need for the symbol, only the referent.

Kurelek is also deeply religious—a Catholic convert. It does not need to be orthodox faith, but any art that is not deeply religious is, to that extent, lousy art. Religion is meaning, meaning is religion. An art work without meaning is mere craftsmanship.

Except, of course, much contemporary art is not even that. Lacking either vision or craftsmanship, it is just neurotic narcissism, or a con.

Kurelek has both: vision, a deeply religious vision, and remarkable craftsmanship. While his paintings are not “realistic,” they are intricately detailed.

"Harvest of our mere humanism years".


One of the outstanding things about the Internet is that it brings to our monitors, right in our homes, a lot of the world's best art. Even if you get to the Louvre, you probably only get to see the Mona Lisa at a distance, over the heads of a few hundred others. On the Internet, you can zoom in and see every brush stroke.

There is a great Kurelek exhibition here. Go have a look, especially if you do not know him. Welcome to the essence of Canadian culture. I'll wait here. Or rather, I'll be there too.

I won't say anything about any individual paintings. As I say, art ought to speak for itself.

Fox and geese.



Tuesday, December 22, 2009

William Kurelek's Passion of Christ

Here, available online, is the full set of Canadian artist Willaim Kurelek's illustrations of Matthew's passion:

http://www.niagarafallsartgallery.ca/passion.htm

William Kurelek is a wonderful artist, and a personal favourite. As a young man, because of an abusive upbringing, he suffered terribly from depression, so bad that is was diagnosed as schizophrenia. His art, and his devotion (he was a convert to the Catholic Church) seemed to pull him out of it.