Tuesday, December 6, 2022

Strange Fires: Clashes of Beauty and Despair in the Works of Paul Gauguin

    Paul Gauguin’s subsequent journeys from France to Tahiti in 1891 and 1895 created ripples in his stylistic choices and a transformation in his vision. He abandoned imitative use of color for a beaming palette redolent of his fascination and inspiration with the landscape of Tahiti. Upon arriving in the country for the first time, Gauguin found his way among the native people and began portraying them in their setting; figures walking along paths, women sitting in fields with their children, and men leading their horses through lush greenery. As Gauguin’s work progresses, his familiarity and closeness to the people of Tahiti grows, and his obsession with the mystique of Tahitian spiritual beliefs and his own drifting imagination work hand-in-hand. Gauguin’s book Noa Noa, written during his time in Tahiti, reflects the world of his artwork; a blend of reality, poetry, and effervescent fiction that reflects his emotions, experiences, and anxieties. Gauguin’s portrayal of his psyche and his perception of the unseen take dark turns that depart from the glowing landscapes and relaxed, natural figures that punctuate much of his artwork. Menacing apparitions, icons of death, and paranoid imagery hang in the background of the radiant world that surfaces in paintings like Tahitian Landscape; to ignore these foreboding subjects would be to ignore a clearly manifested side of Gauguin’s consciousness. 


Paul Gauguin, The Royal End, 1892
Oil on coarse fabric, 17 3/4 × 29 1/4 in. J. Paul Getty Museum, California.


With him disappeared the last vestiges of the ancient ways and grandeur. With him Maori tradition has died. It is truly finished.” - from Noa Noa by Paul Gauguin

Symbol and ritual underline much of Gauguin’s artwork; beheadings as shown in The Royal End, however, were not a Tahitian ritual as much as they were a European ritual. Carved walls, intricate floor patterns, and interior sculpture, inspired by found Tahitian design, are accented by figures in mourning. Both the head, the surrounding figures, and the space of the painting are imagined; Gauguin undertook this piece after learning of the death of the last king of Tahiti, Pomare V. Gauguin associates this loss with a severance between Tahitians and their way of life; a severance that spurns his ability to experience a truly primitive society.



Paul Gauguin, Words of the Devil, 1892

Oil on canvas, 36 1/8 x 26 15/16 in. National Gallery of Art, Washington DC.


‘Watch over me, Oh my Lord! Preserve me from enchantments and evil counsels. Preserve me from sudden death, and from those who send evil and curses.’” - Tehura in Noa Noa

Gauguin puts value in charge of creating an occult, unnatural light that illuminates these figures in their surroundings of dense, foreboding underbrush. The pose of the nude figure calls to mind a Renaissance Venus, a figure associated with virginity and purity. She is facing away from the ghoulish figure kneeling in the background, but her expression and turned head portrays her as being hesitant to flee temptation. 


Paul Gauguin, Tahitian Landscape, 1892 

Oil on canvas, 25 3/8 x 18 5/8 in. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. 39.182


... We must turn to Nature in order to live. She is rich, she is generous, she refuses no one who will ask his share of her treasures of which she has inexhaustible reserves in the trees, in the mountains, in the sea.” - from Noa Noa

Tahitian Landscape demonstrates the surface of Gauguin’s reception of Tahiti; the colorful soils, skyward tropical greenery, and ochre underbrush, all inhabited by humble figures and primitive man-made structures. It demonstrates the objective beauty of nature in Tahiti; it stands outside in the sun, seemingly unaware of the surrounding darkness that Gauguin portrays elsewhere in works of this exhibition. It is normative to the majority of Gauguin’s Tahiti works, and acts as an anchor from this exhibition to a less contextualized examination of his works. Whether the darkness lurking shines or is outshined by the radiance of Gauguin's landscapes is a decision best made by the observer.


Paul Gauguin, Two Women, 1901 or 1902 

oil on canvas, 29 x 36 1/4 in. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. 1997.391.3


The soul of a Maori is not revealed immediately. It requires much patience and study to obtain a grasp of it. And even when you believe that you know it to the very bottom, it suddenly disconcerts you by its unforeseen ‘jumps.’” - from Noa Noa

Gauguin’s portrayal of Tahitian women in this piece takes a departure from idealized, savage beauty in favor of stiff and unsettling portraiture. The figures pose in the shade, their backs against a dusty green field. The woman on the left glares back at the viewer with dismal, black eyes. This portrait has little surrounding context, but a certain anxiety and discomfort is palpable. There is an unwelcoming feeling that stands in contrast with Gauguin’s feeling of acceptance in Tahiti. The European dress of these figures could represent their entrapment under the shackles of modernity that robs them of the noble savagery that Gauguin would attribute to them. 


Paul Gauguin, Barbarian Tales, 1902, oil on canvas, 51 3/4 x 35 1/2 in.

Museum Folkwang, Germany.



Now, I work more freely, better. But my solitude still disturbs me.” - from Noa Noa

Barbarian Tales brings Gauguin’s female nude portraiture into a cool blue night. The atmosphere surrounds seated figures and hushes the bright fauna. The women seem unaware of the red haired phantom man seated behind them, clasping his jaw and digging his beast-like feet into the ground. This figure bears resemblance to a friend of Gauguin who had died years before this painting, although he seems to have taken on a ghastly form. Elongated green serpent-like eyes blaze from his contorted expression, in total disconnection from the peace of the scene around him. Painted near the end of his life, this figure is a looming fear of death manifest; a fear that Gauguin could not escape. 


All quotes are from Noa Noa by Paul Gauguin, translated by O. F. Theis, 1919.








No comments:

Post a Comment