FLUXEUROPA: MAX BECKMANN

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An exhibition review by Rik

12 February - 5 May 2003
Tate Modern, London

Max Beckmann (1884-1950) was a leading German figurative artist in the first half of the 20th Century. He was stylistically affiliated with Expressionism, Cubism and New Objectivity (Neue Sachlichkeit) but didn't identify himself with any one school.

Beckmann set out to depict real life and his major early work was The Sinking of the Titanic (1912). He emerged from the traumatic experience of the trenches in the First World War with a particular concern with the pain and suffering of human existence. In The Night (1918-1919) his depiction of a family being tortured included a distinctly Lenin-like figure as one of the torturers, an indication of his opposition to all forms of totalitarianism. A defining characteristic was the way in which he depicted individuals in group settings as detached from one another, underlining their individuality, and affirming an essentially libertarian perspective. In other pictures he depicted maimed war veterans and Weimar decadence, themes he shared with Neue Sachlichkeit artists Otto Dix and George Grosz. Neue Sachlichkeit was also a manifestation of Magic Realism, keenly observed (and often primatively depicted) elements of realism in a fantastical (often grotesque) setting.

The height of his professional success was typified by his Self-Portrait in Tuxedo (1927) in which he indulged a recurring personnel fantasy by posing as a sophisticated gangster. But the politics of the age were closing in on him. With his work denounced by the Nazis as degenerate, he sought refuge in Holland in 1937. He survived the War, emigrating to the USA in 1947 where his career flourished once again.

Eschewing direct political statements and involvements, his paintings were typically allegorical. He depicted life in theatrical terms, a macabre version of the Commedia dell'Arte and the circus, self-mocking and full of sardonic humour. Whether by design or coincidence, the central panel of his Departure triptych (1932-1935) seems to echo the theme of the Six of Swords in the Tarot pack, whilst Falling Man (1950) appears to resemble The Tower from the same source. Playing cards also appear elsewhere in his work. Coupled with early indications of turning away from religion such as in Self-Portrait with Red Scarf (1917) in which his back is literally turned to a church, he seems to have hinted at the supremacy of blind fate over godly design, an existential explanation for the cruelty of existence, although this didn't stop him from employing Christian iconography as a symbol of cruelty and suffering as he did in Descent from the Cross (1917).

His last great painting, The Argonauts (1950), was completed the day before he died and fittingly symbolised his own oddyssey through a world of trials and tribulations.

Rik – 22 April 2003