The Ugly Truth

Of all the painters of the human form, few opt to show its disquieting – dare we say it – ugly sides, in favour of beauty, but would our appreciation of portraiture be what it is without the uncompromising gaze of Rembrandt and Francis Bacon? We think not! All the harmonious curves, gentle smiles and symmetrical features rendered by countless other artists do not come close to the memorable impact of the bulbous noses, folds of flesh and warped faces created by artists who see the evocative power of human imperfection. Somehow, the close unflinching examination of flaws is something that we can relate to on an immediate level whereas the admiration of perfection is more passive, more distant, less affecting.

There is no denying that painter George Condo’s first major retrospective presents a collection of works that confronts us with the most distorted, surreal and terrifying side of our humanity. Did we also mention that they are about as hilarious as they are alarming?

Curated in accordance to a thematic approach, Mental States, at the Hayward gallery, provides a conceptual environment for each and every one of his characters, from the Screaming Priest to Big Red. The first impression is rather tame and reassuring as a series of sculptures of golden heads ushers you along a corridor and into the gallery space. His sculptures are somewhat less striking than his paintings, the additional dimension taking away from the otherworldliness of the impossibly jutting chins and missing eyes. Yet the challenges await at the very end of this corridor with a series of nine more or less mutated portraits of the Queen, Dreams and Nightmares of the Queen. Condo is not scared to deconstruct any image, from the clergy to the royalty, no one is out of bounds.


If you’re not laughing yet, you will as soon as you enter the gallery space dedicated to portraiture. The portraits range from fairly realistic representations of men and women with slight disquieting effects (one eye significantly bigger than the other, a very small head on a big body, a nose that looks like it belongs on a different head altogether) to completely animalistic and fantastic creatures posing in accordance to the classic iconography of portraiture.

This whole menagerie is hung in an old-fashioned “salon style” that is now rarely seen, safe for some more conservative art institutions such as the National Gallery. This approach highlights both the absurdity of the paintings as well as the many art historical references that Condo slips into his work. The space dedicated to abstract-figuration does not have as powerful an impact. The paintings are all on a large scale but, instead of making one strong individual statement, they are covered in sprawling details that require sustained examination.

Finally the Mania and Melancholy gallery is where you will find the most recent and the most disturbing work. Created in the late 1990s and 2000s these works stand as allegories for out troubled times. In Uncle Joe, a man lies on his back, his genitals exposed, a bottle of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. There are soap bubbles floating about him, the grass and blue sky hint more at a bucolic picnic than at a bout of drunken exhibitionism. Yet, the expression on his face is priceless: it’s a truly savage grin slicing his face from ear to ear. Screaming Priest, both an homage to Francis Bacon and a representation of the organised religion’s scandals, and Nude Homeless Drinker evoke the same dissolution of social propriety and dignity. They are both terrifying and liberating. As Condo himself states: “They may not be pretty but I think we can all see ourselves in these pictures; they are so hideous and yet so utterly real.”


You could be forgiven after all that “reality” to want a bit of escapism and, conveniently enough, you can find it on the lower level of the Hayward in the form of Pipilotti Rist’s Eyeball Massage.

Running is my sanity

  Of course, I do it for the many health benefits. It's the best way to get the heart pumping, it prevents osteoarthritis (the most common form of arthritis), heart disease, diabetes, raises my good cholesterol levels and boosts my immunity to colds and viruses.

As I'm running the Brighton Marathon to raise funds for Breakthrough Breast Cancer, I was delighted to learn that the National Cancer Institute reports that women who reported the highest levels of "vigorous activities" (running certainly counts as vigorous) had about a 30% lower risk of breast cancer than women who do no "vigorous activities".

The benefits are not just physical. They are also emotional and mental as exercise is three times more efficient than rest at reducing anxiety. I never think as clearly as when I'm out in the park, jogging in the fresh air. I've solved so many problems by just going for a run that I truly think my life would have turned out to be quite different had I not been a runner.

Basically, running is the best thing I can do for myself. And now it's also the best thing I've ever done for others as my fundraising started last week. I've had my first donation! Albeit, it's from my lovely dad, but who better than family to get you started?

It's been a while...

I know, I know... If you're going to start a blog, you might as well write as often as possible...

I know, I know... It's been about 2.5 years since I've uploaded all about the upheavals that enliven and trouble my little life. It was not for a shortage of upheavals. Far from it, if anything, there have been more upheavals than I could handle over that period of time and, as a result, writing about them fell by the wayside as I was experiencing them.

Let's see... Among the big, epic upheavals, I feel I should mention finishing my PhD and getting married to the most lovely man I could ever hope to have by my side. Then there was the small stuff that is an integral part of life in London: amazing work, lots of art, good times and bad times with friends, riots and public transport strikes, annoying  neighbours, etc.

"Why are you posting again after all this time?", you ask. Fair enough, it's not because I'm experiencing fewer upheavals or have more time on my hands. It's because I'm in the process of training for my first marathon! I will run the Brighton marathon on April 15th 2012 to raise funds for Breast Cancer Breakthrough and it's such a momentous undertaking that I feel I need to share it.

Now I know I can run! I've been a runner for over 10 years, clocking up the miles, rain or shine, in parks or on roads, 5 days a week. I ran the Edinburgh half-marathon in April 2011, I've also done a handful of 10k charity events to keep a bit of diversity in my training. I love running. It's my sanity. The endorphins, the fresh air, the chance to burn off nervous energy is something that I want as an integral part of my life for as long as I can put one foot in front of the other. In fact, I'm running the Grand Union half-marathon on November 13th as part of my training... and for fun. Running doesn't scare me.

Fundraising is another story. This will be the first time I raise funds for a charitable cause. I'm quite proud to be in the position to do so but it's a new undertaking and, as is the case for all new undertakings, I will be proceeding with baby steps.

Tune in for more about this and other upheavals! Once a week or more often... It's a deal!

Not I

Juliette Binoche and Akram Khan, photo by Tristram Kenton, courtesy of the National Theatre

Juliette Binoche is the epitome of French charm for the Brits. She has it all: self -assuredness, natural beauty, intellectual aspirations, cheeky candor and charm to spare. It didn't really come as a surprise to hear that she was invited to choreograph a dance with masterful dancer Akram Khan for the National Theatre. With the financial backing of the prestigious Fondation d'entreprise Hermes to seal the deal, In-I looked like cultural history in the making.
I gladly signed up to review it, expecting to be dazzled by a show of Franco-British magnificence. Yet, there is a true risk involved in juxtaposing amateur and professional dancers on a stage and I have to admit that In-I was a great illustration of that danger. Amateurs, no matter how revered in other areas of their lives are just not in full possession of their body the way professional dancers are. Last night, as I was watching actress Juliette Binoche clumsily plowing her way through the show, as heavy as Akram Khan was weightless, as clumsy as he was graceful, I felt real annoyance. I felt, unfairly perhaps, that Khan's animal grace was held back by his partner.

I made my way home mulling over the review I would write the following day. This morning I was still thinking about it as I was making my way to ballet class. Should I focus more on the narrative aspect and treat it as a play? Perhaps I could simply present it as an interdisciplinary project aiming to offer Akhram a platform to act and Binoche a chance to dance, regardless of the outcome. Then I caught sight of my face in the mirrored wall of the rehearsal studio. My, do I look angry when I'm focusing on achieving the correct form of a plié! Maybe I should start by relaxing my face in class so the teacher doesn't think I'm about to scratch her eyes out. The essential quality that brutally separates the pros from the amateurs is the ability to make it all look effortless which can only come after decades of excruciating daily training. Suddenly, I felt a surge of sympathy for Juliette Binoche who was exposing her incompetence as a dancer to hundreds of people every night, angry face, clumsiness, excessive sweating and all. I certainly would not be willing (or invited) to do a similar thing but if she is, who am I to judge?