In Memory of Two Dead Artists: Malcolm McLaren and Pablo Picasso

Malcolm admiring Picasso's Woman with Yellow Hair (1931)

at the Guggenheim (c. 1984) [1]

 

 

Doubtless many well-known people have died on April 8th, but the only two who really interest me are Malcolm McLaren and Pablo Picasso; the former departing this life in 2010, aged 64, and the latter in 1973, aged 91.

 

McLaren had a tremendous knowledge of modern art and admired many painters, but I seem to remember him having a genuine penchant for Picasso; he and Vivienne Westwood famously using Picasso's Weeping Woman (1937) on a toga dress in their Nostalgia of Mud / Buffalo collection (A/W 1982-83).

 

I was surprised, therefore, when I discovered that his response upon first hearing of the Spanish artist's death was simply to say 'Oh good' [2].   

Nevertheless, when asked to pose for an official publicity shot at the Guggenheim ten years later, it was besides a Picasso that Malcolm chose to stand - not a work by Rothko, Warhol, or Francis Bacon ... 

 

Whether he had a particular liking for this 1931 portrait of Marie-Thérèse Walter, I don't know. But I find it hard to believe that the picture was chosen purely at random.   

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Unfortunately, I don't know the name of the photographer who took this picture, which was used as a publicity shot by Charisma Records, to whom McLaren was signed in the early-mid '80s.*   

 

[2] See Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 185. 

      Roberta Bayley recalls that it was the American fashion entrepreneur, designer, and journalist Gene Krell who broke the news of Picasso's death to McLaren. 

 

 

* Update: Paul Gorman kindly informs me the image is from S8/E9 of ITV's The South Bank Show on McLaren, which aired on 2 December 1984. For a post in which I reflect on this show, click here.   

 

   

On the Aesthetico-Perverse Appropriation of Objects (With Reference to the Work of Christoph Niemann)

Two Sunday Sketches by the brilliant German illustrator

 and graphic designer Christoph Niemann

Members of the kinky community pride themselves on their ability to re-imagine the world around them and see things from a queer perspective. They take giggly pleasure, as Steven Connor says, in the idea of so-called pervertibles; common household items that can be put to a sexual use of some kind.

At first, this sounds philosophically intriguing; a creative attempt to appropriate objects and further the pornification of the everyday.

Sadly, however, necessity is more often than not the mother of invention and the rationale behind pervertibles is usually financial in character; an attempt to become a sadomasochist on a budget, or masturbate on the cheap as well as on the sly. Why purchase expensive lubes and sex toys when you can just use cooking oil, clothes pegs, and a toilet brush?

To the outrage of genuine objectophiles, the majority of those who enjoy playing with pervertibles possess no affection for (or concern with) things as actual entities existing outside of any erotico-utilitarian function. For most perverts, things interest only when they are on hand to stimulate a variety of sensations and help facilitate orgasm; they have little or no time for ontological reflection. 

And that's why - as I've said before and will doubtless have occasion to say again - even perverts disappoint.

They're so intent on finding everything sexy and turning the world into their own private toybox, that they miss entirely the wider allure and fascination of objects. It's a failure of sensitivity and it demonstrates the limits of a pornographic imagination which remains tied to what Foucault termed the austere monarchy of sex (that most ideal form of modern agency).   

And it's why being an artist is more than being a pervert. For when an artist looks at an object, he or she sees an infinite number of possibilities and not just something that might possibly substitute for a dildo, butt plug, or nipple clamp.

Thus it is that, for Duchamp, a urinal can become a fountain; for Dalí, a lobster can become a telephone; for Picasso a shovel, a tap, and a pair of forks bound together with wire can become a magnificent bird; and for the genius of Christoph Niemann, pretty much anything can become the inspiration for one of his Sunday Sketches ...     

See: Christoph Niemann, Sunday Sketching, (Abrams, 2016).

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon

Laura Hollick as one of Picasso's Demoiselles d'Avignon 

Photo by Kevin Thom (2010)  

www.soulartstudio.com

There's simply no point in maintaining a figurative conception of sex based on a series of identical images, unless one wishes to keep love constrained under the yoke of idealism. 

Perversity becomes philosophically of interest when it sets itself the task not merely of finding ever-more sophisticated pleasures, but also of "tirelessly taking apart egos and their presuppositions" and thereby "liberating the pre-personal singularities they enclose" (to quote Deleuze and Guattari if I may). 

It would be nice, for once, to know a woman in a purely impersonal manner; to experience her as a vibration of forces or some kind of event far below the level of identity; to see her as Picasso saw les demoiselles d'Avignon - en route to pure abstraction.

A Birthday Post on Becoming-Child

Inner Child Doll, by Beth Costello

Deleuze and Guattari are right: knowing how to age well does not mean attempting to remain young; it means extracting the molecular elements, the forces and flows, that constitute the youth of whatever age one happens to be.

In other words, it's not about diets, skin care, exercise regimes, or cosmetic surgery, but producing within oneself that child of innocence and forgetfulness, whom Zarathustra spoke of.  

Such a metamorphosis of the spirit is not easy and it has nothing to do with regression, imitation or identification. As Picasso once confessed, it took him four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child. 

All this on the occasion of yet another birthday ...