Oskar Kokoschka at Musée d'Art Moderne of Paris

Updated: Aug 1
A conversation with Sherry Fyman at the Oskar Kokoschka exhibition in Paris. October 2022

Sherry and I first discovered Oskar Kokoschka in Vienna in 1913. We both liked his paintings, but it is only by seeing an artist’s work over and over again that you truly begin to appreciate them. Nearly ten years later, we finally got that chance.

Rossella: There are elements of composition in this painting that I find very interesting. The reds around the eyes and hands draw you to the center of the work—the most emotional parts of the painting—yet the figure is in profile, turning away from us. The splashes of black along the front of the garment then pull you back into the painting, toward the viewer.
Sherry: Herwarth Walden was the editor of the avant-garde journal Der Sturm. Even though this was painted in 1910, the sitter was already deeply anxious about growing political unrest. Through the vivid red in his hands, face, and neck, Kokoschka captured the overwhelming anxiety of the subject.

Sherry: This painting was done in 1913, in the style of El Greco, which Kokoschka discovered on a recent trip to Venice.
Rossella: Everything leads back to Venice.
Sherry: Exactly!

Sherry: Kokoschka took a trip to the Dolomites with Alma Mahler, who was his lover at the time. In her memoirs, Alma Mahler describes this as a very important trip for Kokoschka. He took long walks in the forest and looked deeply at the surrounding colors. This was a turning point in Kokoschka’s work, for he decided he was going to be a colorist.
Rossella: Alma was a woman, not a man?
Sherry: Yes. She was the wife of Gustav Mahler and had many affairs.

Rossella: I wanted to ask you, what is your take on the crossed arms? Many of his self-portraits are posed this way. Hands tied? Inability to move? Inability to change something?
Sherry: Yeah, I think it means he felt constricted and held back.
Rossella: An absolute inability to break out of the chains?
Sherry: Could be.
Rossella: And it could again be a political statement.
Sherry: Yes.

Sherry: Kokoschka painted this double portrait at the request of Carl, the man on the right, who was a friend of the painter. Carl had asked Kokoschka to paint the man on the left, Hans. Kokoschka took inspiration from Flemish diptychs traditionally created for married couples.
Rossella: I was just about to tell you this work reminded me of diptychs!
Sherry: My impression is that these men were lovers and a couple, as implied by using a diptych format reserved for married partners. The colors chosen to represent them are also no coincidence—according to Kokoschka, blue signified discretion, while green stood for passion.

Sherry: In 1918, several years after his breakup with Alma Mahler, Kokoschka commissioned artist Hermine Moos to create a life-sized doll of Alma.
Rossella: Yes, that is one of the first things I noticed about his work originally at the Vienna exhibition—the appearance of an oversized doll next to him in the studio.

Sherry: Kokoschka eventually destroyed the doll—dissatisfied with it—but the image of an oversized doll made its way into several of his paintings.
Rossella: It must have been quite a love affair.

Rossella: Kokoschka’s work was targeted by the Nazis and labeled "degenerate art." Some of his works were confiscated, and like so many other artists, he was forced to flee Nazism. Nine of his works were included in the Nazis' Degenerate Art Exhibition in Munich in 1937. He responded with this self-portrait, which he entitled Portrait of a "Degenerate Artist". It is an image of sheer resistance—an assertion of who he is and who he will remain for the rest of his life: an artist.
Sherry: Absolutely moving!




Comments