Site Presented By
Thursday, Nov 26, 2009
I'd love to hear you do a take on his painting "The Loss of Virginity" [the naked girl lying in a field with a fox on her shoulder].
This again is a theme which is very near and dear to his heart -- a young woman who is introduced to sexuality. Her introduction is something that isolates her and isn't part of sanctioned marriage. And on her shoulder is the fox that we presume is the creature that deflowered her. Now a fox in Asian mythology is a creature that turns into a woman in order to seduce a man. In the painting the creature who has been seduced is a woman, so you're very confused about the sexuality that has taken place. The morality of the painting is not clear like most Victorian paintings. Gauguin's painting is one that we're allowed to like. We're encouraged to like and embrace all the bizarre turns that this notion of sexuality has taken. When I look at Gauguin I feel quite comfortable condemning the sexual act or behavior of Gauguin in respect to real circumstance -- I feel very free to be judgmental about his leaving his wife, and not supporting his children, and seducing young women and all that sort of thing -- yet when I look at his art I think he manages to infuse all of these unpredictable notions of sexuality and eroticism, and enliven what could be a fairly standard and fairly boring kind of painting. Does that make sense?
To be a devil's advocate -- don't you think it's a contradiction to appreciate Gauguin's perverse message in his art, but reject it in his life?
It seems like there should be a contradiction, but I feel comfortable with it. I feel it's OK to interject unpredictable ideas into a work of art as long as you're not perpetuating those acts against living human beings. Is that what you're thinking is a contradiction? When I think of Gauguin's work, I think of the very offensive idea that seems to be a part of them. Take "Spirit of the Dead Watching" [included in the gallery show]. That is the most thorny of all of his paintings. It's kind of like "The Loss of Virginity." It seems to be a continuation of that theme -- young girl, very androgynous looking. Virtually the same body type -- thick ankles, short legs, but nevertheless youthful and attractive. In this case, there is fear in the painting, more like the Eve where the fact of her nudity and suggestion of sexuality makes her afraid. She is looking out at whoever is observing her with fear.
Isn't she afraid because there is a demon behind her?
Yes, there is the demon in the corner, but that doesn't seem to be the source of her fear. Gauguin put the demon in and that's a nice explanation, but it's a device. When he writes about his work to his wife the most important thing is the fear. And then he puts in things that might account for the fear. [According to Metropolitan Art Museum curator Susan Stein, Gauguin also told his wife, "It's just a painting."]
You'd think that Tahitian society would have been so laid back that Gauguin would have gotten rid of his European demons, except in Tahiti women were encouraged to be raped and beaten.
That was an observation of Tahitian society that was written by several Western observers. I don't know how common that was. It could be exaggerated. It certainly seemed to them to be more common than it was in Western society. When Gauguin first went to Tahiti this was all very titillating to him. Here finally he had found a society where his own interests in violence and sexuality could be acted on without censure. But that was only true for a short period. And only as long as he wasn't an actual Tahitian resident. I made the distinction between his first trip to Tahiti as a tourist and his second trip where he came to stay. Once he settled down there, society -- especially the Europeans and Europeanized Tahitians -- no longer would accept that behavior. So he had a falling out with the powers that be.
Can we call Gauguin's paintings of half-naked men, like "Man With the Ax" [a Tahitian teenage boy wearing only a black loin cloth swings an ax over his sturdy shoulders], homoerotic?
I do. Mostly because I know the literature that Gauguin wrote about these paintings. I associate the man with the ax with the story in [Gauguin's book] "Noa Noa." [She begins reading] "The nearly naked man was wielding with both hands a heavy ax that left, at the top of the stroke, its blue imprint on the silvery sky and, as it came down, its incision on the dead tree, which would instantly live once more a moment of flames -- age old heat, treasured up each day." This is wonderful, don't you think? [Pause.] This man locks eyes with Gauguin and sees that he is hungry, and arranges for a child to come bring Gauguin food. Then he comes back and says, "Are you satisfied?" And Gauguin says yes, but he uses a Tahitian word that means "paia." I looked up all these Tahitian words to see what they really meant in a 19th century Tahitian/English dictionary. It's amazing how Gauguin in his titles picks out words that are sexual. According to my 19th century Tahitian/English dictionary. "Paia" means sodomy. I mean, wait a minute!
But you don't believe Gauguin ever had actual sex with men?
If you asked for my belief in my heart of hearts, I would say yes. But I have no proof of that. Men who have sex with men don't want that to be known most of the time so they don't write about it. They'd rather people didn't have any evidence or proof. I respect that. I can't say, "Yes. Gauguin did." There's no way I can say that. I don't have that evidence. But if you asked me whether I think that he did, I would certainly say yes. [Pause] I hope he did -- there is so much love, I don't know, so much extraordinary feelings the way that he writes these things. The image of the ax coming down. There is real feeling there. I hope he did.
Then there is another story about going up into the mountains to find wood for Gauguin's sculptures. He talks about following the young man, and looking at his back, and becoming more and more attracted to him. Then the man turns around and Gauguin comes to his senses, and says, "I can't do this. It's a young man." Then they get to the top of the mountain and they cut down this tree. [She reads from her book] "Savages both of us! We attacked with the ax a magnificent tree that had to be destroyed to get a branch suitable to my desires. I struck furiously and, my hands covered with blood, hacked away with the pleasure of sating one's brutality and of destroying something." [Pause] I mean, you know? As they returned Gauguin admired the beautiful back of his friend and compared it to the wood that they were carrying for the sculpture. And he says, "The tree smelt of roses, Noa Noa. We got back in the afternoon, tired. He said to me: 'Are you pleasured?' 'Yes' -- and inside myself I repeated: 'Yes.'" Is this a great love story or what? This is very intense. If Gauguin really felt this way, I certainly hope he had sex with some of these men.
