Egon Schiele & Francesca Woodman
Following my visit to Tate Liverpool’s Life in Motion exhibition it would be fair to say that I am somewhat perplexed by the pairing of the artwork of Schiele and Woodman. While both artists displayed flair and creativity, both were preoccupied with the naked human form (often using their own bodies as the subject matter) and both died young, beyond this I struggled to draw comparisons as to why their work would be displayed side-by-side. But this is only my opinion and is in stark contrast to a review published in the Daily Telegraph which calls it “a kinship…between Schiele’s fast, febrile line and the frequent blur of human movement captured at slow shutter speed that’s a key element to woodman’s photograph”. While I am no art critic, I feel even this pushes the boundaries to draw such conclusion. The supporting literature cites the commonality of capturing movement in time; both physical and an emotional flux. Perhaps they do, but is this justification for coexistence in the same space?
On the day of my visit the gallery space was akin to a private viewing; probably due to the thousands of spectators lining the walls of the Albert Dock to watch the mooring of boats that had finished the round the world boat race. Fighting through the hordes of spectators to access the Tate was not for the faint hearted. On entering the exhibition I noticed two other visitors stood sketching separate works produced by Schiele. They were too engrossed in their sketchbooks to notice my presence, or that of an occasional trickle of visitors moving quickly through each room as if viewing out of curiosity rather than with any interest in either artist, or their artwork. In retrospect I wonder if they had read the review in the Daily Telegraph and wanted to see what they were missing.
By the time I had reached the third room I was at a loss with my thoughts. Woodman’s, mostly small, monochrome photographic images were overshadowed by Schiele’s large sketches and coloured gouache and water coloured pieces, which had really caught my attention. I am ashamed to say that I was now skimming past Woodman’s images. I sat for a while and watched the two visitors sketching before returning to the first room. I started again, this time viewing only Schiele’s work.
Schiele’s was renowned for his erotic depictions of women and himself, highlighting his embrace of female sexuality and his own sexual exploration, which he viewed with a rare directness that for some boarded on the grotesque. This style and approach landed him in trouble with the authorities on a number of occasions.
Fig 1: Standing Nude Girl 1914 Egon Schiele (Tate Liverpool, 2018)
A prolific draughtsman, Schiele considered drawing as a primary art form, producing thousands of drawings and canvases. Despite the small collection on display it did provide a snapshot of how the artist developed, as well as the influence of Gustav Klimt who in met in 1907 and took as his mentor.
One of a number of pieces that really stood out for me was Standing Nude Girl 1914. An unidentified female in mid-movement, her torso is twisted and her head is turned parallel with her left shoulder. Her gaze is fixed with purpose and attitude. A thick black line outlines her form, while dabs of red and black accentuate her nipples, lips, cheek bones and puberty of a mature woman. Her arms appear elongated while the fingers on her left hand form a crooked, awkward shape. Using gouache and graphite on paper, there is no background or context to her surrounds (a common theme with Schiele’s artwork). There is not ambiguity of the artist’s intent; this is all about viewing a nude female. I hadn’t intended to sketch any of the artwork, but I was captured enough to make a quick sketch and notes in my pocket-sized sketchbook.
While these are two great artists I wish this exhibition had been dedicated to one or the other, with perhaps historical context to emphasise their significance both now and during their life time.
OCA BA(Hons) Painting Degree - Level 1 