Artist’s self-portraits

Chantal Joffe’s self-portrait of she and her daughter by the sea appears timid at first glance; but the delicate hues and minimal lines betray the deeper feeling seen upon a second look. The ocean painted in the background (which also appears in other family portraits) is everlasting, while the humans in the foreground exist momentarily. It also conveys deep emotion; hence the cliche’s ‘An ocean of emotion’ or ‘Still waters run deep’.  Her motivation for this portrait may have been simply to chronicle family, and she a reluctant subject in the initial photo. She’s painted herself in distorted proportions, while her daughter is portrayed with flattering accuracy. Despite the way she may perceive herself, the little girl adores her mommy all the same. What resonated with me, was the artist’s awareness of life’s frailty and the child’s optimistic oblivion. Perhaps the burden of this knowledge is what gives Ms Joffe melancholy hidden behind a crooked smile.

In contrast to Chantal Joffe’s subtlety, Michelangelo’s self-portrait is a blatant statement of emotion. Being a prisoner of Rome, and a slave of the Pope, I can imagine that Michaelangelo was experiencing inconceivable burn-out. In the background we see a cruel, authoritative hand gripping the shell of a human, and dragging it about. I was impressed with the notion that this creature had not only been torn from its core tissues, and soul, but also it’s free will. More proof of disenchanted employment. A smaller female, who is also entrapped (seen more clearly in the full-scale scene of the Sistine Chapel), shares the same curious gaze as Michelangelo, in a direction beyond the painting itself.  I am still unsure what they are entertained by in such dire circumstances.

unlike the anguish conveyed in the previous painting, the bronze sculpture below (created from the death mask of  Michelangelo by a dear friend), shows a content man finally at peace.

Here, David Hockney’s self-portrait demands attention and challenges the viewer. I’m attracted to the rebellious fire-alarm red background, highlighting the blue clarity in his eyes. He knows who he is and understands the world around him. He’s making several defiant statements here: the taboo cigarette hanging from his lips, the fashion faux pas of coupling red with purple, along with his “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me” expression, and even the unconventional medium… as he sketched this simply from his ipad. It’s his confidence in this portrait that I find profound.

In early photos taken in Mr Hockney’s younger years; he appears only mischevious with cautious trepidation. In comparing the former and the latter, I assume that he championed some great battles since then, earning him allowance to contradict everything.

Elizabeth Peyton’s self-portraits interest me because of the clear lines, fluid mark making and tonal contrasts. She achieves a non-judgemental impression of herself with a limited palette and minimal medium. It inspires me to the same.

References:

Anon, Chantal Joffe – Google Search. Available at: https://www.google.ch/search?q=Chantal+Joffe&oq=Chantal+Joffe&aqs=chrome..69i57j0l5.4950j0j4&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8 [Accessed March 9, 2018a].

Anon, 2014. David Hockney – Biography. Biography. Available at: https://www.biography.com/people/david-hockney-9340738 [Accessed March 9, 2018].

Anon, Elizabeth Peyton | MoMA. The Museum of Modern Art. Available at: https://www.moma.org/artists/8042 [Accessed March 9, 2018b].

Anon, Michelangelo Portrait Gallery. ThoughtCo. Available at: https://www.thoughtco.com/michelangelo-portrait-gallery-4122984 [Accessed March 9, 2018c].