"Back of the sun and way deep under our feet, at the
earth's center, are not a couple of noble mysteries
but a couple of joke books."
-Tennessee Williams

Artistic License I have a friend who's an artist, art lover, literary fan, mystic and culinary connoisseur. She is as comfortable in an art museum as she is in her own kitchen; a library as a five star restaurant. This level of confidence was not achieved overnight. Rather, it took years of developing her eye, taste-buds and preferences. She is, in a nutshell, a critic. So, I found it rather amusing when she announced out of the blue one day, "I hate critics." Now, hate is a rather strong word for anyone to use, let alone a mystic who travels the constellations on stardust, so what's up with that? "Hate 'em, hate 'em, hate 'em." Critics, she insists, serve no purpose but to lay down their own subjective taste as law, thus stymieing true creative genius. In my friend's world, critics are parasitic creatures, skilled in nothing but running off at the mouth. She may have a point, but critics do have another function: they drive sales. Two books my friend would never go near are Egon Schiele (Parkstone Press, $14.95) and Egon Schiele 1890-1918: The Midnight Soul of the Artist (Barnes & Noble, $9.99). Both offer biographies of turn-of-the-century Austrian artist Egon Schiele (1890-1918), and attempt to explain his art by way of the forces - both personal and societal - influencing him as an artist. To both biographers I can hear my friend shouting, "Who cares what informed his work? I either like it or I don't!" The Artist as Savior In Egon Schiele, author Jeanette Zwingenberger depicts Schiele as a self-absorbed hedonist with flights of grandeur. The son of a railway man, the artist feels entitled to what little money is left after his father's death in 1905, because he views himself (and perhaps all artists) on a higher level. "That I am true I only say because I . . . sacrifice myself and must live a martyr-like existence." For Schiele, the role of the artist was messianic. "I sacrificed for others, for those on whom I took pity, those who were far away or did not see me, the seer." Through his art, Schiele sought to break down societal pretense. His style was void of the gloss of the Victorian era. In his subjects, Schiele had a knack for bringing to the surface the ugliness hiding beneath, and in so doing held a mirror up to pretension and showed it for what it was. His nudes are a flagrant breach of what was accepted in art at the time, and landed him a stint in jail. Never pretty, they reflect the horror and anguish of letting curiosity get the best of oneself; the balls-to-the-walls thrill of liberation from social norms. The Artist as Plagiarist In Egon Schiele 1890-1918: The Midnight soul of the Artist, by Reinhhard Steiner, the author takes a decidedly different tact in biographizing the artist. Rather than presenting him as a messianic pro-active figure, Schiele is portrayed as a painter that goes against the norm out of desperation. He hungers for success, thus his painting has a reactive - shock value, if you will - element to it. "Since the bloody terror of world war befell us, some will probably have become aware that art is more than just a matter of middle-class luxury." Around the turn-of-the-century there were several major art movements in motion. One, the Impressionists with their bold bludgeoning brush strokes, and second, the clean controlled lines of Art Nouveau, appear to have had a pointed influence on Schiele's art. His early paintings of landscapes (1907) were clearly marked with an Impressionist influence. These works were followed by decorative figures closer to the Art Nouveau movement, and practically copycats of Gustav Klimt's flat-dimensioned linear style. Klimt, it should be noted, was at the time considered the Messiah of Austria's Secessionist movement, a philosophy which sought harmony between art and life. The goal of the movement was to transform the entire human environment into a realm of beauty. The Artist as Visionary In 1909/10 Schiele began taking a different approach to painting. Neither Impressionist, nor Art Nouveau, he developed a style which adopted elements of each. The style stuck and Schiele entered a period in which he mostly produced nudes with pronounced "realism". That is to say, nudes whose eroticism is both diminished and enhanced by their grotesqueness; a reflection of the ugly secrets beneath life's prosaic surfaces. The onslaught of World War I gave breadth to Schiele's paintings. Conflict brought out the monster lying beneath society's surface. It slaughtered norms, lay bare the hypocrisy of polite society, and vindicated Schiele as an artist. In 1917 Schiele writes: "Since the bloody terror of world war befell us, some will probably have become aware that art is more than just a matter of middle-class luxury." War revealed the tension beneath society's surface, just as his paintings accomplished with the individual. World war changed civilization. Simultaneously, Schiele's paintings - particularly his nude studies - changed the world of art. Schiele died on October 31, 1918 of the Spanish flu. While he lived he painted in a world undergoing change. Whether a messiah, plagiarist, or just a guy with paint and easel, it cannot be denied the timing of Schiele's life was uncanny. Love him or hate him (only a critic would be so brazen as to direct you either way) his work made an indelible impression on the world of art. Even as he lay dying, remarkable changes were taking place. Just three days after succumbing to the flu, the Austro-Hungarian Empire capitulated, forever changing the political face of Europe. While the importance of critics may be debatable, their role is not. If all they did were to write quality, informative and heavily illustrated biographies (critiquing aside) like Zwingenberger and Steiner have done for Schiele, I think even my friend the disdainer of critics would have to say, "Bring 'em on!" posted 09/30/03 TOP