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  • FUNCTIONAL DYSFUNCTION

    When I was at school in the 1960s and 70s, there were those who could spell, and those who could not. Those whose lack of ability was pronounced faced major challenges, for they did not receive the support and understanding due to them. Things are different now. For many years, dyslexia has received the recognition it deserves, and the roll-call of high-achieving dyslexics includes Einstein, Thomas Edison and Picasso. I have dyscalculia – something that is not uncommon among artists and musicians, apparently. School life was hard though as, again, the problem was not recognised. The condition means that numbers put my brain into a spin. If I encounter them in a written text, my brain skims over and ignores them. I can't long-divide or long-multiply, I remain unable to understand the rules of games – board, card, field or otherwise, and I can't learn dance steps; but I share my 'dysfunction' with Cher, Robbie Williams and Henry Winkler – 'The Fonz'. Coincidentally (or not?!) 'The Fonz' was a nickname that became attached to me - in a wholly ironic way, I might add, at school. I was a bit of a misfit, not cool like Fonzie! I even had to have it explained to me who The Fonz was, as I was not allowed to watch 'Happy Days' on TV. So, allow me to introduce my latest oil painting, FUNCTIONAL DYSFUNCTION. FUNCTIONAL DYSFUNCTION - Artist HAYDN (2025) Perish the thought that my paintings deliberately or overtly 'mean something'. We've been over that many times in this column. Through an emptiness of allusion comes a plenitude of pure truth; or so I hope. I would like to think though, that the tumbling layers and punch-bright hues of this new canvas hint at an affirmation of it being ok to be 'dys' , in what ever way we, or our lives may be. Of course, just as Claude Debussy presented the titles of his Preludes for piano at the end of each piece rather than at the beginning – as a suggestion rather than a statement – please feel free just to like it as a (hopefully) nice picture. A bit of extra reading for you: Today, a lovely article has been published about me on the AATONAU art blog website. Aatonau ranks number 8 on the list of '50 Best Art Blogs' of 2025 (updated in January) so I feel very honoured to be featured. https://aatonau.com/haydn-breaking-free-through-art-and-music/ Enjoy! And do share, if you feel so inclined! FUNCTIONAL DYSFUNCTION copyright Haydn Dickenson 2025

  • THE ARTISTIC JOURNEY OF WILL LOCKYEAR

    For the last article of January, I am delighted to welcome the first of 2025's guest writers, multi-disciplinary artist Will Lockyear. Like me, Will is a musician as well as a visual artist, so I was especially pleased when he agreed to contribute a piece – one which I find very absorbing indeed. So, over to Will!... When Haydn asked me to write a piece about my journey as an artist, it struck me how little effort I’ve made over the years to weave my chaotic exploration into something resembling a coherent narrative. And so I write this for myself as much as for the person who finds themselves reading it. If you’re curious about the journey that led me to embracing the title of “multi-disciplinary artist”, and some of the insights into the threads that tie all mediums of expression together, I encourage you to grab a mug of something warm and read on. WILL LOCKYEAR in the studio I suppose it begins with a Nokia 3210. My dad’s, actually, in the tardis of a cottage he moved to after the divorce. A higgledy-piggledy thing with sloping roofs and a flock of bats that bobbed above the surrounding woodland canopy at sunset. The phone contained a rudimentary music-writing app, with monophonic tones assigned to alphanumeric codes denoting pitch and duration. It was a laborious process, to say the least, but one I found deeply enjoyable. For endless hours I’d weave sonic masterpieces (to my nine-year-old ears, at least), painstakingly coding the exact length of each note and pause. Within such tight parameters, I saw endless potential. Over the years, I’ve discovered many of these creative outlets. Some, like stop-motion animation and architecture (which I studied at University Of Manchester), exist for me as a distant memory, while others, like cooking and writing, have ebbed and flowed through the years. Photography provided me with a stable income, though perhaps at the cost of my artistic relationship to the medium. It was electronic music, though, that really grabbed me by the horns and led me down the artist’s path. WILL LOCKYEAR - music promo shot My twenties were spent, alongside a fair bit of partying, attempting the practically impossible task of becoming an electronic artist with a unique sonic fingerprint. The real genius of the greats (Call Super, Theo Parrish, Objekt, Octo-Octa, Floating Points, to name a few) lies in the combination of incredible artistry, however we define that, with the technical engineering skills to bring their visions to life. Most people can only pull off one of those, but I’ve always been fixated on both. I’m proud of the music I’ve made so far and that journey is far from over for me but I bring it up because of the lessons it taught me along the way. I consider electronic music the first art form I “mastered,” though I use the term very loosely. Meditation became a big part of my life in my early twenties and was a cornerstone of the insights that led me to mastering the elusive art of electronic production. I realised the most beautiful music came when I relinquished any sense of control. Inner stillness became the doorway to the next correct move when carrying out audio engineering tasks. I discovered a well of nothingness that one can clamber deep inside of, and the ideas that spring from that place are infused with a kind of brilliance normally just out of reach. Over time, I began to see parallels between the mediums I worked in. Whether I was finding the perfect balance of flavour in cooking, throwing porcelain at my mum’s studio, or even attempting to tear up a dancefloor, the same principles that helped me master music applied across the board. Everything boiled down to inner stillness, reliable access to flow-state and an ability to let go of control – to surrender to chaos whilst observing from a seat of awareness. There was something else, too. I’d developed a finer sense of some kind of divine balance, a resonance that either felt “right” or didn’t. I try to let this innate feeling be the driving force behind my actions when making art. I also found a bloom of unlimited, saturating ecstasy hidden in the deepest, most quiet corner of the mind. I’m still not sure quite how that influences my art, but knowing it exists certainly changes one’s relationship with the world. I began to see beauty wrapped up inside of the most mundane things. The way light would catch the edge of my dinner plate, the tapestry of texture in a pile of rubbish. Beauty is everywhere, if only we can learn how to look for it. A strong desire to express these discoveries grew in me, which led to a thought – where else might this be applicable? What do I really want to do with art?  On our first wedding anniversary, I brought my wife a blank canvas (paper) and told her I’d paint her anything. She asked for oranges. I studied art to A level and painting had been a source of joy in my school years but my first work as an adult, Oranges for Kat , was completed in 2020 at the age of 29 after over a decade hiatus. ORANGES FOR KAT - Will Lockyear (2020) When applying these broad insights to a new art form, they don't replace the need for technical education. Though I believe certain threads run through the mastery of any medium, each presents its own unique blend of technical knowledge, physical skill, and muscle memory. It took a full year of experimentation before I felt ready to fully embark on this painting. I had a clear vision in my mind – a piece both impressionistic and dominated by expressive brushstrokes, yet hyper-real. I wanted every inch of the painting to be something the viewer could get lost inside of, just as I had learned to do with my own reality. I worked on Oranges for Kat over several months. Along the way, I became fascinated with the brushstroke itself. I realised that everything I was trying to express with my polymathic approach to the arts was contained within each moment the brush touched the canvas. A brushstroke is a moment frozen in time. A dance, captured. I discovered that the beauty of a brushstroke correlated directly with the depth of stillness present during the act – how fully I could surrender attachment to the action itself. From this moment on, my work would be defined by unblended brushstrokes. The subject became a framework on which to layer a thousand moments of transcendence. To open the door to chaos is a scary thing, particularly when there is no undo button. Every brushstroke guides the work toward completion but also carries the power to ruin everything if the reins are let go completely. I play on the easel, mixing colours brings me pure joy, but the act of painting itself is an intensely spiritual act. One I find quite exhausting. EAT THE FRUIT - Will Lockyear (2021) My second painting, Eat the Fruit , was a painting of a memory. I’d been eating fruit by the window of my kitchen when the moment struck me – vivid and profound in its quiet beauty. Months later, when I finally decided to paint the scene, I could no longer remember what fruit I’d been eating, only the impact the moment had left on me. So I chose to paint something out of the ordinary. The mysterious fruit became a symbol, deeply woven into a story germinating in my mind at the time (I’m still writing the novel). I love this painting very much and used it as the cover art for my debut album, Aom – Eat the Fruit . FRACTAL BEAUTY OF THE MUNDANE - Will Lockyear (2023) It would be two full years before I returned to oils. Fractal Beauty of the Mundane , completed in 2023, was another painting of a memory. I became obsessed with the particular moment represented in this painting, one I’d experienced a thousand times before. It seemed to represent a shared doorway into the kind of hidden beauty I’d been trying to communicate for years. I’ll refrain from spelling out the subject matter because I’ve found this piece lends itself to multiple interpretations. It felt like I had finally said everything I was trying to say with that painting. I may return to the style one day, but upon completing it, I vowed that my next work would explore new ground. IMAGINED SUNSET 001 2024 - Will Lockyear (2024) On Friday, October 13th, 2023, I broke my neck diving into the sea in Peru. I narrowly escaped neck-down paralysis, an experience that shook me to my core. After surgery, I spent a slow winter recovering at my mum’s home in the Berkshire countryside. It was during this time of quiet reflection that I doubled down on my commitment to my journey as an artist. I also reconnected with nature in a way I hadn’t since my youth. The long, drawn-out December sunsets left a profound impression on me, and I decided my next painting would respond to those skies I had witnessed during my recovery. It was around this time that I solidified my theory regarding brushstrokes. I became fascinated by the idea of developing the perfect framework on which to explore colour theory and brushwork. It was this thought experiment that led me to a deconstruction of the technical principles of painting landscapes, particularly the way colours bleach towards the horizon. This painting is not of any particular sky, it is an abstract exploration of colour within clearly defined parameters. I intend to continue the series in the future.  BLOOM - Will Lockyear (2024 Whilst this painting appears to be moving in the direction of pure abstraction, the exploration of colour and mark making was still built upon a loose idea of form. There is a painting underneath, midnight blue upon a vivid orange backdrop, loosely resembling the very center of a flower in full bloom. There is another sort of bloom, one that unfurls at the very back of the mind and overwhelms you. My current project, a series of 6 paintings, explores the realms of pure abstraction. Without subject or form to guide the brushwork, I have found myself led more fully by intuition. Each painting begins as a series of marks and every subsequent layer responds to the last, always in search of something I cannot express with language. I ride the knife edge of control and chaos. Just as with electronic music, the wisdom is in knowing when they are finished.  Instagram https://www.instagram.com/will.lockyear/ THE ARTISTIC JOURNEY OF WILL LOCKYEAR (Paragraph 3 onwards) Copyright Will Lockyear 2025 Paragraphs 1 and 2 Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2025

  • MALE ESSENCE - ONE ARTIST'S VIEW

    I was recently sent a family photo that unfortunately brought flooding back some memories of a traumatic period in my life. The era was in the early-mid 1980's when I was struggling with paternal repression at the same time as secretly forging a part of my personal and artistic identity without which you would not be reading these words today. In the family photo, I look frozen, terrified, desperate – as if my soul is not present. Roughly concurrent with the occasion on which that moment was immortalised, I was making a discovery. A friend of mine from university had recently begun a postgraduate course at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, UK and, as an escape from the prison of my quotidian life I used to visit her there. On one such occasion, my friend introduced me to the Sainsbury Centre For The Visual Arts on the UEA campus there https://www.sainsburycentre.ac.uk/ , which I featured in an article in this column last Autumn https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/where-it-all-began I do not mind repeating what I stated in that article, that my initiation into the riches that the Sainsbury had to offer (and still does) played a seminal role in shaping my identity. I made a pilgrimage back to the Sainsbury last October and, enthralled, discovered there a painting that was not present in the centre's collection when I first encountered it. The painting is Keith Vaughan's ASSEMBLY OF FIGURES 1 (1952) ASSEMBLY OF FIGURES 1 (1952) - Keith Vaughan I find this painting mesmerically beautiful, yielding increasingly subtle nuances the more one studies it. The composition intrigues the viewer, with the rear figure all but hidden by the one who bends forward, head bowed, his body given a peculiarly conflicting light-and-shade treatment. Then there is the man on the right whose raised leg echoes the similar gesture of his arm; and there is the curious object on the ground in front, which seems to fall out of the frame. The sole figure to confront the viewer is also the only one to cover himself with a pouch. The central guy does not cover his penis but looks away, perhaps artificially, with a three-quarter glance - “Check me out - I dare you!” All this results in a compelling and delightfully natural erotic braggadocio  in the two right hand figures, mixed with a not insignificant bashfulness exhibited by the two left hand ones. And what of artistic genre? The raised elbow, strongly modelled limbs and quasi-tribal, mask-like faces put me peripherally in mind of Picasso's LES DEMOISELLES D'AVIGNON. While Picasso's demoiselles are all pointed elbows and proto-cubist angles however, Vaughan presents an altogether more sensual moment; but the confrontational aspect seems to bear a similarity. LES DEMOISELLE D'AVIGNON - Pablo Picasso (1907) Keith Vaughan (1912-1977) who was homosexual, and artistically active mainly at a time when it was illegal to be so, described himself as as 'a member of the criminal classes'. His paintings as well as his earlier erotic male nude photography convey the male body with admirable freedom and candour, celebrating his subjects' beauty and potency. All that work is unambiguously figurative. As we shall see in a moment however, Vaughan was not averse to making more than a nod towards abstraction. Though I am an abstract artist, I derive strong inspiration and artistic enrichment from drawing the nude human body, and from photographing it – though I do all this for myself alone and not for sale. There is plenty about the human body that leads one towards abstraction if one concentrates on lines, planes and curves; something that has often been remarked upon in my own nude 'bodyscape' photography. One friend has described my semi-abstract nude photography thus: “it is as if you present their bodies as something mysterious, even alien yet, at the same time, you obviously adore them”. It is not unexpected to discover that Keith Vaughan held a strong abstractionist streak within him. BATHERS - Keith Vaughan (1961) Vaughan painted this marvellous piece twenty-four days before I was born, in August 1961. It is full of August air, the scent of ozone, fresh summer bodies and sparkling water, and is exquisite. The artist considered it his best painting, because it combined the abstract and the figurative, whereas his work had otherwise tended to bounce between those two apparently disparate poles. Contemplating this stylistic dichotomy in Vaughan's work set me reflecting on someone whom a colleague once described to me as a 'pure abstractionist', but about whom I never thought anything of the sort! That artist is Richard Diebenkorn (1922-1993) URBANA (BEACHTOWN) - Richard Diebenkorn (1953) Diebenkorn's abstract landscapes bring to us the breezy sun and palms of California, all open space and sandy winds. Keith Vaughan offers us dark conifers, a church steeple and the prevailing westerly winds of his artistic palette blow us an altogether more temperate climate, but I can't help but see the kinship. LANDSCAPE IN BUCKINGHAMSHIRE - Keith Vaughan (1958) MALE ESSENCE - ONE ARTIST'S VIEW Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2025

  • MUSIC IN LINE

    During the 1990's I was in the happy position of being able to attend many classical concerts in London in the company of my great piano teacher, Peter Feuchtwanger. Prof. Feuchtwanger knew all the London concert agents, who regularly gave him blocks of free seats at prestigious recitals at Wigmore Hall and the South Bank. “Tickets for Shura Cherkassky (or whoever) in my name – as many as you want", he would announce. One would need to arrive early, and there Peter would be, genially holding court before the concert, surrounded by his students (or his children, as he called us) and often by luminaries from the London artistic set too. In his company I met many famous musicians, artists and actors including Steven Berkoff and a delightfully effervescent, bird-like lady who was introduced to me as Milein Cosman. I remember she was amused by my 'musician's name'! Milein Cosman is best known as an artist who produced hundreds of rapid line drawings of musicians, usually 'in action'. IDA HAENDEL, by Milein Cosman When I discovered who she was and looked up her drawings, I was immediately taken with the immediacy, energy and authenticity of her line drawings. Usually executed in pen, and superbly urgent and concentrated in style, they often looked as if the implement had never left the page from the beginning to the end of the drawing's creation. They also reminded me of drawings that my mother, an artist in her youth, made of musicians performing in Scarborough while in her teens and early twenties. ORCHESTRAL MUSICIANS - drawing by Joan Bailey (early 1950's) CONDUCTOR - page from the sketchbook of Joan Bailey (early 1950's) Milein (Emilie) Cosman (1921-2017) was born in Gotha, Germany, later moving to Düsseldorf. She studied in Switzerland, arriving in England in 1939 at which time she began to study at the Slade School of Art. Milein Cosman later married the Austrian-born musician and musicologist Hans Keller, whose writing she often illustrated. She also provided illustrations for Radio Times, as my mother told me when I excitedly reported to her one day that I had met Cosman in London! THE AMADEUS QUARTET - Milein Cosman LEONARD BERNSTEIN - Milein Cosman VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY - Milein Cosman RALPH VAUGHAN WILLIAMS - Milein Cosman OTTO KLEMPERER (detail) - one of my own favourite conductors, rendered by Milein Cosman with astonishing accuracy Cosman produced most of her sketches while observing from the wings at concerts, or sitting in on rehearsals. They are a collective reminder of how inspiring music can be to visual artists and how the expressive gestures and vast range of postures and mannerisms of musicians lend themselves to an artist's scurrying, fleeting pen. Milein Cosman captured moments in music with mastery and magic This ability to produce 'snapshots' with such breathtaking veracity is something to which I shall return in a subsequent article, linking Rembrandt with film – so watch this 'virtual space'! MUSIC IN LINE - Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2025

  • NEW YEAR INTERNAL BRAINSTORM.

    Happy New Year everyone! I was told recently though, that one mustn't wish that to others after January 8th, I think; so I hope I'm not sowing bad luck! Let's just say, Happy Year. Happy above all – 'prosperous' always sounds a bit 'David Copperfield', and prosperity is not so important after all. Happiness is everything. For the first post of 2025, I offer my last painting of 2024, CAUGHT IN THE ACT, the title noted by one observer as being particularly apposite in view of recent political, constitutional and social occurrences; nothing new there, though. CAUGHT IN THE ACT - Artist HAYDN, 2024 Lined up for this early spring season (I refuse to accept that we are still in Winter) I have an article by at least one, and hopefully two very different guest writers. I also plan a piece about a towering giant of Abstract Expressionism, one about self-permission in Art (the only permission needed!), one which will discuss a scene and a quotation from a favourite film of mine, and another that will explore parallels between painting and photography. Oh, and on 8th February, an article about me will appear on a leading online Art Space, ranked within the top ten of its type. Nicely written it is, too. Onwards and upwards! NEW YEAR INTERNAL BRAINSTORM copyright Haydn Dickenson 2025

  • MAKING IT UP AS YOU GO.

    Firstly, you are reading the 100th article to flutter down from the windows of 'Artfully Abstracted Towers' – any bottles of Champagne gratefully received! Now, on to business. One of the loveliest things about art is that we creators can give away as much or as little about what's 'in it' as we wish to. When I give a painting a cryptic title, I do so because I want to stimulate the viewer's imagination. I want them to start thinking, and feeling, as a result of standing in front of my picture. Why would I want to tell them what it is about if, indeed, it is 'about' anything at all. The following article https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/agnes-martin-and-the-non-meaning-of-art may offer some insights into 'non-meaning'. I don't particularly want people to know more about me as a result of gazing at my art, though they can guess all they like. The best scenario would be if their imagination takes them, in a stream of consciousness, far away from my title. That sounds aggressive – I don't mean it to be. I just like to retain the Austin Powers factor – International Man of Mystery! THIN-SKINNED SPHERES THAT CREEP AND SHIFT - Artist HAYDN, 2024 What is really beautiful is when the viewer learns, from the painting, something about themselves, or about the moment, and I mean their moment, the moment in which they find themselves, in their current relationship with my painting. Many collectors tell me that their reaction to my paintings changes from day to day. The viewer might feel a sudden, new sensation, or perhaps experience a resonance, deep inside, of something that occurred years before, possibly even in a past life. I hold a candle for that simple mission. And what of the titles themselves? To stimulate the process of art-appreciation to the max, I would prefer to name all my paintings UNTITLED, but I'm told this just won't do. Punters don't like it, and perhaps this is good, for an imagination-piquing title may at least serve to catapult the viewer in an entirely opposite direction from the art's overt content, out of sheer caprice. Titles can be loose, and they can be precise. They can chuck a whole net of red herrings at us, or they can say a painting is something simply because the artist says that is what it is; though the latter is not an approach I usually adopt. I just deflect. December 13th saw the 158th anniversary of the birth of Wassily Kandinsky. On that day, I came across an article online which was illustrated by his 1909 painting, STUDY FOR IMPROVISATION 3. STUDY FOR IMPROVISATION 3 - Wassily Kandinsky, 1909 I started off wanting to write about the meaning of Improvisation, to try to delve into why Kandinsky would make a 'study' for something that is meant to be spontaneous. I wanted to talk about how, in classical music, Schubert's two sets of IMPROMPTUS for piano are named as such when, in reality, they are tightly constructed architectural masterpieces, at least two of them having a strong affinity with Sonata Form. I wanted to look at Chopin in a similar light. I wanted to cite Francis Bacon's many 'STUDIES FOR...' which are, in fact, final paintings. I wanted to attempt to find a rationale for creators doing this, naming things that actually they seem not to be; and then I realised that if Erik Satie could compose and publish THREE PIECES IN THE FORM OF A PEAR, piano pieces that bear no reference – musical or otherwise - to a pear and of which there are seven and not three, we just do not need to ask how or why. I tried to invent 'reasons' for all the above, and found that to be both futile and a dullard's quest. I remember a discussion in a University friend's room, circa 1983, about the Aristotelian notion of 'essence' – that what makes a table, a table, is not that it has four legs and a top, but its 'table essence'. This discussion came about, I believe, after a reading of Antony Flew's excellent book THINKING ABOUT THINKING (Harper Collins, 1975). I have always loved the 'table' notion. Aristotle tends to be laughed at in some circles for it, but I celebrate a world in which we can something whatever we want, if we feel it has that essence. Any art that we make, we have a right to name according to our fancy, and we really do 'make it up as we go' in all we do; that is the fact of time allied to the fact of action. Perhaps all paintings are 'studies' really, because they all prepare the creator for the next stage, the next stop on the cruise, the next drink of the painterly pub-crawl; and perhaps they are all improvisations, because any work of art bears the germ of a moment's inspiration, constantly developed and augmented. Happy Christmas, everyone! MAKING IT UP AS WE GO copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

  • READ ALL ABOUT IT!

    As this column reaches its first century (the article to follow this one will be the 100th!), it's time for some shameless plugging. JaamZIN Creative is a smart, vibrant Singapore-based online art site and magazine https://www.jaamzin.com/ . I was interviewed by the lovely Zin and Zannnie who run JaamZIN back in 2021, and I was delighted when they asked me just a few days ago to send them some material about my current work, for their blog. Here it is https://www.jaamzin.com/post/haydn And here is my latest large acrylic canvas. There is a high-profile art collector on which my agent has his sights set, to pitch this one to, together with a couple of other pieces. SALAGOU VIBES - Artist HAYDN (2024) I'll try to make my Century-Post a biggie! Thanks for following, always. Do spread the word! READ ALL ABOUT IT! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

  • BON APPETIT

    There are a few paintings hanging in galleries across the world that hold a legendary, almost folkloric attraction. People make pilgrimages to see these works of art, but they also infuriate me by crowding in front of them, taking selfies. The inventory of such legendary paintings includes Van Gogh's series of Sunflower canvases, the Mona Lisa , Monet's various incarnations of Water Lilies , and the picture that I shall discuss today, Le Déjeuner sur l'Herbe , by Edouarde Manet. Inspiration for today's article came from a recent conversation with a friend who is a photographic model, in which she mentioned that her career path was sparked into life by her first sight of Manet's iconic canvas. When it was first exhibited in 1863. Le Déjeuner caused a furore of notoriety and controversy. Art lovers were accustomed to nudes, of course, but nudity (usually female) had hitherto been presented in a classical context, and it was primarily goddesses who were naked, usually in naked or semi-clad company. What was not considered acceptable was a naked 'girl-next-door' seemingly in cahoots with two fully-clothed men-about-town, about to partake of luncheon (one would assume), staring penetratingly and enigmatically at the viewer, the while. So what do we have here? We have a painting that, first of all, candidly displays influence from at least two classical masterpieces. It does that, of course, most provocatively. One painting that Manet had in mind is Raphael's The Judgement of Paris (1510-20) in which the nymph in the lower right hand corner is gazing out of the painting in a way not dissimilar to the that of the lady in Manet's picture. Raphael's pair of male river gods, however, are naked too; shock-value immediately reduced! The other is Titian's Pastoral Concert (c 1509) but, hang on, here the female figures are nude while the two male musicians are clothed. Perhaps Manet's vision is not so new after all. People love to be scandalised. So much fault was found with Le Déjeuner that it was not accepted into the Paris Salon as the artist had hoped, being relegated instead into the Salon des Refusés – the 'reject's room'. There is more to the scandal than that though, and therein lie the numerous sensual frissons , I feel. Gone is the glassy, idealised alabaster skin of classical nudes, as Manet presents his female subject in a notably flat painting style, devoid of anything more than cursory shading and tonal modelling. Brushstrokes throughout the painting are far from disguised. There is a roughness that is at odds with the picture's classical allusions. Proportions are peculiar and the painting is spatially 'off'. The head of the man on the left is larger than that of the woman, who nevertheless sits further forward. Are we witnessing a representation of patriarchy ? The woman's feet are huge, and the female figure in the background, at the water, appears larger than she should according to the distance at which she is placed in the group. Now onto the messages, and the frissons.   Manet's painting was originally entitled Le Bain – The Bath - though, undeniably, neither much bathing nor luncheon is unfolding in the scene before us. Instead, we find two fashionable young men, the one on the right wearing a hat apparently usually worn indoors, the pair seemingly engaged in learned discourse, with a fully nude young woman positioned riskily close to them. Beside them, a luncheon – either abandoned or as yet untouched – of bread (the staff of life) and fruit (forbidden fruit?) lies, spilling libidinously out of its basket, semi-strewn over the woman's hastily-discarded clothes. The man on the left, though his companion is depicted in full flood of pronouncement, seems not to be listening. He looks past us, over our shoulders. On what is his mind occupied ? His right hand is positioned close behind the woman; is he intent on leaning in, on feeling her heat, taking in her scent, and planning his amorous purpose? The man on the right gesticulates with his outstretched hand in a way that appears to echo the hand of God in Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam . Now look at the legs and the feet in Manet's painting. The naked left sole of the woman nearly touches the left foot of the right-hand man. More potently still, her right foot is directed up between the legs of the man on the right. I think that, despite her enigmatic and insouciant gaze, she is indulging in some serious body-language, and that it is very clear which of the two men she prefers. Her toe is even slightly upward-curling in suggestion of imminent pleasure. And what of the woman in the semi-distance, still partially clad? Will she soon join the trio and reveal herself, or has she already participated in the amorous play? Food being referenced as an allegory for sex is nothing new – Shakespeare is full of it. Nature too, holds strong and longstanding literary, folkloric and artistic associations with sexual desire and fertility. The lunch is being taken 'on the grass', shocking enough given the behavioural context, but perhaps Manet also had in mind the scent of grass and its associations with those of sex. It could be then, that the subliminal allusions of Le Déjeuner may have offended Paris society as much as its more overt departures from convention. Sometimes things are particularly intriguing when we don't quite know what is going on. Bon Appetit! Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

  • CHARCOAL DUST AND IMPASTO PEAKS

    Last week, on November 11th 2024, the world lost Frank Auerbach, one of the greatest figurative painters of our time. He was 93. Auerbach arrived in Britain as a child, sent by his parents in 1939 as part of the Kindertransport  scheme. His parents were later murdered at Auschwitz. Frank Auerbach's rich life of art and experience took in teaching posts at secondary schools and art colleges in his early years. He ascended to become one of the leading figures of the 'School of London', alongside illustrious colleagues such as Howard Hodgkin, Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon, and he helped launch the careers of many next-generation British artists including Jenny Saville and Cecily Brown. Auerbach settled in the artistic hub of Camden in North London. Best-known for his compelling, searching portraits, often existing in multiple renderings of the same sitter, Auerbach's work ranges from profound charcoal drawings displaying a potent combination of contemplative stasis and flurried energy, to craggy, expressionist oil studies in the thickest of impasto. During the 1950's Auerbach produced many charcoal drawings of Stella West, the actress with whom he maintained a long and intense relationship. The artist has stated that none of his portraits exhibit a greater intensity that those he made of Stella, because the connection between them was so powerful. He described the atmosphere in the studio with Stella (known as E.O.W) as one in which clouds of charcoal dust hung chokingly in the room as he knelt on the floor, a drawing board balanced on a chair in front of him. He was perpetually frightened that Stella would refuse to sit any longer; on occasions, the artist would pretend a finished drawing was incomplete and secretly begin a new one, seeking to capitalise on the stolen moments before Stella, ultimately, did rebel, forcing Auerbach to turn to paint. It seems that Frank Auerbach had a deep-seated fear of sitters abandoning the studio. “Sloshing around with paints”,  he said, “may make the sitter feel that the whole process is so idiotic and unreadable and messy, and that they might lose faith in the procedure”. Auerbach's style is arguably among the most iconic and recognisable of our time. Let us leave the last word to David Bowie, who owned the portrait of Gerda Boehm illustrated above: “ My God – I want to sound like that painting looks!” CHARCOAL DUST AND IMPASTO PEAKS copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

  • WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

    In 1983 I graduated from Reading University, necessitating a return to the prison of my family home. Subversion was impossible. Any attempt to avoid toeing the line meant suffering for my mother, at the hands of my father. One day, I will write and publish my autobiography. It may not make easy reading. Quasi-subversion was expressed by me gingerly, by proxy and in a diluted form. I aligned secretly with music, art and poetry of a type of which which my father disapproved and forbade in the home. I became obsessed with Herman Hesse's NARZISS UND GOLDMUND and with Zola's LA FAUTE DE L'ABBÉ MOURET; both remain favourite novels of mine to this day and both deal with themes of incarceration and rebellion. A university friend of mine had gone on, after Reading, to study for her PGCE at the University of East Anglia in Norwich. She was a lifeline to me, helping me to stay relatively sane and adjusted, during the difficult times when my father clasped me back to his narcissistic bosom and attempted to clone me – metaphorically, but only slightly so – in his image. I regularly visited my friend in her University halls, on which occasions she introduced me to the Sainsbury Centre, an art gallery and museum in the University grounds off the Earlham Road in Norwich. https://www.sainsburycentre.ac.uk/ My friend's guiding of me towards this incredible seat of artistic concentration was a baptism, not of fire, but of sweetest milk; of the headiest and most intoxicating experience. At The Sainsbury Centre I discovered so much of the art that I now revere, including sculptures by Elisabeth Frink, sculptures and paintings by Modigliani, drawings and sculptures by Alberto Giacometti and, most persuasively and indelibly, paintings by Francis Bacon. Over the past few days, I have been visiting my recently bereaved sister who lives in Norwich. I took the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to the Sainsbury Centre for the first time in nine years since we both attended the incredible exhibition FRANCIS BACON AND THE MASTERS there in the summer of 2015. https://www.francis-bacon.com/bacons-world/exhibitions/francis-bacon-and-masters Regular readers of this column will know of my confused, push-pulled artistic background, to say nothing of of the wider spectrum of my tainted upbringing. My mother, the artist in the family, was more Renoir than Bacon and I suspect that she found the latter's work a little degenerate. In contrast to my father however, she always respected my taste and opinion and when I came back home from Norwich raving about Francis Bacon, she was a fount of encouragement and positivity. The Sainsbury Centre is a vast metal and glass structure, designed by Norman Foster – the architect of the stunning Viaduc de Millau https://www.fosterandpartners.com/projects/millau-viaduct – which is my corridor of passage when I visit my beloved South of France by car. In itself, the Sainsbury Centre from the outside carries a delicate simplicity, as functional as it is massively, airily beautiful. The bulk of the Sainsbury constitutes a single, vast room – warm, tranquil, offering a hum of hushed conversation and, this week, a small video installation playing contemplative music on loop. For someone who is, like me, mildly claustrophobic and shuns crowds, no gallery space could be more ideal. As I walk around, I catch myself sighing in private ecstasy. When I first started, at the Sainsbury Centre forty years ago, to drink in the glorious marks that Francis Bacon made upon his canvases, the reaction inside me was visceral, and it continues to be so. One of the benefits of the Sainsbury is the superb lighting that makes close examination of Bacon's mark-making so possible, turning it into a compulsion for me. My world changed when I discovered with my own eyes the way in which Bacon pressed a rag into his paint, leaving its imprint, or screwed and twisted a brush in the paint 'alla prima' to create that familiar distorted, deconstructed muzzle in many of his faces, a twisted non-reality that the artist believed transcended figurative accuracy in its representational truth. This iconic technique is visible in the detail of TWO FIGURES IN A ROOM above, and also in the images below. I visit the Sainsbury Centre rarely; I always prefer to save the most precious experiences for the right moment, to enjoy in sparing and rationed ecstasy. This week, I nearly went back the following morning, but resisted the temptation. What is special and shining in its beauty needs savouring as a rare jewel, and none too often. What I did do, rejoicingly, was visit FRANCIS BACON:HUMAN PRESENCE in London the very next day! https://www.npg.org.uk/whatson/exhibitions/2024/francis-bacon-portraits This is an overwhelming exhibition. Go and see it. For me, the smaller portraits in the collection make the greatest impact. Tender, intimate in their searing honesty, they show us a less familiar Bacon than that of the vast canvases bearing troubled figures, sometimes seated as if in an electric chair, sometimes writhing in sexual combat or in existential anguish, incarcerated by a silvery cage. These small pieces are probing, sad, loving, profound, and probing. What is it about Francis Bacon? He spoke of humans 'living through screens' and that “I sometimes think, when people say my work looks violent, that perhaps I have from time to time been able to clear away one or two of the veils or screens.” I particularly like it that, while many of us artists like to speak of a disconnection from the self when we paint, that 'It Paints' - as I do believe is a real, though scarce occurrence https://www.artfullyabstractedblog.com/post/it-paints , Bacon presents a refreshingly candid standpoint. “ I think art is an obsession with life and, after all, as we are human beings our greatest obsession is with ourselves.” WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

  • HAYDN ROOM - RESHUFFLE

    Just a quick 'touch-base' today. For those of you who do not yet know, at Lambdens Brasserie-Gallery in Woburn, Bedfordshire, there is a room entirely given over to my paintings; THE HAYDN ROOM. Lambdens is quite new, so they do not yet have a website, but if you look here https://www.google.com/search?gs_ssp=eJzj4tVP1zc0LMsuKEoqzzY1YLRSNagwsTA3MzU2NTU0Mk5LMU01tjKoSDFNMUs1MzI3NrA0BJLmXkI5iblJKal5xQr5aQrl-UmlRXkABDQVmA&q=lambdens+of+woburn&rlz=1C1CHBF_en-GBGB976GB976&oq=lambdens&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUqFQgBEC4YJxivARjHARiABBiKBRiOBTISCAAQABgUGIcCGOMCGIAEGJ8EMhUIARAuGCcYrwEYxwEYgAQYigUYjgUyCQgCEEUYORiABDIHCAMQABiABDIHCAQQABiABDIQCAUQLhivARjHARiABBiOBTIHCAYQABiABDIKCAcQABiABBiiBDIKCAgQABiABBiiBDIKCAkQABiABBiiBNIBCTYxMDVqMGoxNagCCLACAQ&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8 at the panel on the right hand side, the first image illustrates THE HAYDN ROOM. The room has recently had a reshuffle, with several new pieces being added. A big publicity drive is imminent, and of course the best mode of action is to get on down to Lambdens to see the collection and select your purchase. It's worth noting that most of the collection now consists of framed paintings. Please drop me a message here, or even better, use the contact form at my exclusive representatives https://www.iologies.com/contact , for further information. Watch this space for more art history and art criticism features, and more! HAYDN ROOM - RESHUFFLE Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

  • THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS...

    “ The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes”. (André Gide) I studied a Gide text for my French 'A' Level – 'La Porte Etroite' and, though I am no Catholic and find the notion of Alissa's “sacrifice” in the novel more than mildly abhorrent in humanistic terms, I have always adored the musical, rarified poetry of Gide's prose. As students, while we were studying La Porte Etroite, we visited a neighbouring school at which my friend's mother taught French and had access to a wonderful film “Avec André Gide” which we duly watched; a film on which I would fervently like to get my hands. (To anyone how knows where I might find it, answers on a 'virtual postcard' please!) In the film, I remember Gide's delicately chiselled, ascetic visage and, especially, a scene in which the multi-faceted artistic intellectual was (surprisingly to me at the time) teaching piano, coaching a student in the first of Fryderyk Chopin's Scherzi. I was fascinated by the detail he was encouraging and obtaining from his student in this highly complex and virtuosic piece, at an extremely slow and analytical tempo. I often draw inspiration from this episode in my own teaching of advanced classical piano. I digress. Much as I would love to watch this film right now, it is with the statement at the head of today's article that I wish to settle, for today's thoughts. It seems that we are discouraged from employing such words as 'madness' today. The label has acquired a pejorative, judgemental, dismissive or demeaning inference. We must, it seems, tiptoe around certain words and appellations that might denigrate or tarnish, albeit unwittingly, a state of being that should rather be celebrated than hush-hushed under the carpet, one that should evoke a sense of sun rather than of cloud. Neurodivergence frequently nestles at the very heart of creative fecundity. I would venture to suggest that fulfilment of artistic 'Parnassus' is seldom achieved by those for whom existence is devoid of emotional and/or psychological extremes. I am invariably greeted with raised eyebrows when I describe Ludwig van Beethoven's monumental Piano Sonata op 106 (the so-called Hammerklavier ) as “music on the edge of madness”, as if I were seeking to denigrate its searing intensity, profound spirituality and incandescent fury. I will never understand this reaction. I revere the Hammerklavier, which presents music of the highest explosive power, sitting, as we experience its titanic traversal, alongside passages of the most intimate and prolonged introspection. It could not have been created by a person who lived a workaday existence. The word 'mad' derives from the old English gemædde, meaning 'out of one's mind', in the sense of a 'violent excitement'. Such a state of mind seems to me to be the one experienced by Beethoven in his composition of the afore-mentioned Sonata, by Chopin in the terrifying – or 'gruselig', to use the fabulous German adjective - final, scurrying movement of his Sonata op 35, or Robert Schumann when he poured forth his vertiginously sensual, truly bipolar 'Kreisleriana'. I also particularly like it that the Middle-English word for 'mad' is wood . This was a source of amusement to me during my teenage study of Chaucer but, when we remember that the term grew out of an old High German word Wout (indicating rage) and before that, an Indo-European word Wāt, meaning to be excited or inspired, a fresh perspective and enlightenment is attained. I love this word 'wood' in the context of a mental state anyway as, rightly or wrongly, it suggests being attuned to the natural world. In 1889, Vincent van Goch painted the 'Asylum' in which he was living. The canvas presents a vision of peace blessed by the sun, the azure skies of the Midi casting healing energy onto the residential institution below. It is worth remembering that the real meaning of the word 'Asylum' holds a positive and protective truth, rather than one suggesting a depository for the dysfunctional. In the glorious painting above, perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, two figures appear melded with the curling tree-trunks, as if they truly become 'wood'. “ Great wits are sure to madness near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide”. (John Dryden – poet and literary critic, 1631-1700) THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS... Copyright Haydn Dickenson 2024

Haydn Dickenson

©2022 by Haydn Dickenson

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