|
Ron
Marlett has long been fascinated in a style of expression in painting
that draws the viewer into the experience being offered by the art. One
method for doing this is strict realism, in which no boundary is set up
between the viewer and the subject matter, allowing the viewer
effortlessly to step into the world of the painting. The object in the
painting then becomes the focus of the viewer's mind, and the features
of that object can be directly experienced. This is true both for the
simplest of objects, such as a flower, and for a complex collection of
objects, such as a pastoral scene. With no separate, abstract layer to
penetrate, the art is immediately available, and the artist is able to
focus our attention on whatever aspect of that object he desires. In
this way, without even being aware of that process, we find
ourselves being drawn to the smallest detail, such as the
delicate petal, or tiny drop of water.
Marlett
has also explored this same idea of drawing the viewer into the art in
a completely different way: humor. In the realistic style, no
pre-existing concept exists in the viewer's mind of a "meaning" in a
subject, a concept that the artist has to overcome. By contrast, in the
case of clasic art, the viewer comes to the work already burdened with
an expectation of what the experience will be like. Marlett's task here
is to force the viewer to see the classic in a way that doesn't fit
with that expectation, to snap the viewer out of a comfortable rut. To
this end, Marlett takes classic pieces and breaks the balance and
careful composition of the original artist, and injects humor into the
work. He does this in an almost vulgar way, by inserting himself into
the image, interacting with the characters. For example, in the 2003
painting Lunch at Vincent's,
he faithfully reproduces Van Gogh's artistic style, but rudely inserts
himself sitting between Van Gogh and Gauguin, excitedly discovering the
winning ticket in a McDonald's Monopoly game. This interruption in the
painting, together with the ridiculous anachronism of 19th century fast
food, assaults the viewer's expectations. This forces us to look again
at the painting's style and subject matter anew, and we find that the
image becomes fresh. In My German Expressionist Date, Marlett takes Ernst Kirchner's iconic Erna with Cigarette,
and extends the picture, implying that he was sitting with Erna at the
table, acting boorish and irritating her. This absurd affront to our
preconceived appreciation of the orginal work again forces us to look
at the painting as if we were seeing the original for the first
time. This same theme is explored in My Tahitian Selfie, painted in 2014. Here we see Marlett inserting himself into Paul Gauguin's 1899 painting, Two Tahitian Women.
Again, we have a silly anachorism: taking a selfie with 19th century
women. The women themselves are irritated, as if their posing for a
painting were being interrupted. This reference within the painting
itself to the fact that it is a painting further pulls us in, and
Gauguin's style becomes all the more alive.
Ron
Marlett uses humor and absurdity to bring new life to classic works and
classic styles, pulling us in, and making us see beauty in those works
and styles, beauty that was, in fact, always there.
David Newhall
|
|