Bite Me, Tony

Artsy Fartsy - Gustav Klimt

I haven't written anything about art on this blog since I first introduced it way back in, oh, whenever I started it. In which case, you might be surprised to learn that I am an art lover. Not an art academic, mind you--I did not get a doctorate in Art History--nor do I claim to be any sort of art expert. However, I do know one or two things--a fairly minimal amount, in the grand scheme of things--about quite a lot of art works and the brilliant (and in some cases, controversial) talents who created them. From here on, you'll likely be seeing an occasional post about some of my favorite artists and their most well-known (and, in some cases, lesser-known) works. If you've read this blog at all, you'll know that I am not locked into any specific genre or timeline when it comes to movies, TV shows or books. The same goes for paintings; whether it's Renaissance, Baroque, Cubism, Surrealism or contemporary art, I'm a fan of it all.

For this first artsy post, I'm going to assume that, by now, you realize that my tastes will not necessarily be a reflection of your own. Fear not, I will try to keep this topic wide-ranging. Besides, after reading it, you may be able to enlighten me on anything I've missed, misunderstood or misquoted. With that being said, let's talk about the Viennese symbolist painter, Gustav Klimt. Klimt is perhaps best known for his extensive use of gold leaf in paintings that seem to glow under light. These golden paintings proved to be enormously successful and helped cement Klimt's reputation as a prominent member of Vienna's Art Nouveau movement.

Human intimacy and eroticism are key elements of Klimt's ouevre. The Kiss (top, 1907-08), hanging in Vienna's Osstereichische Galerie Belvedere, is one such example of sensuality enriched by Klimt's bold technique of overlaying oil paints with gold leaf. Dressed in their exquisite finery, the couple seems conjoined by love and desire, their attire only accentuating their oneness. The Kiss is representative of the abandon and opulence associated with the fin-de-siecle (turn of the century). Some art historians have speculated that Klimt modeled this painting on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. According to Wikipedia, the painting "seems to be showing the exact moment when Orpheus turns around and loses his love forever. As shown in this painting, the woman being held is slightly translucent, indicating a fading away or disappearance, as told in the story". Others have attempted to reframe the painting's narrative as that of a violent man subduing a helpless (unconscious?) woman. Frankly, I'm calling bullshit on that. I despise the overuse of the word woke, which is, to my understanding, the ability to show empathy and demonstrate compassion towards others unlike oneself (including strangers, immigrants, people of color, LGBTQ+, etc.). Unfortunately, woke has been hijacked by both the rightwing "intelligentsia" and MAGA crowd as a pejorative, and leftwing scholars looking to cancel anyone who isn't confined by their increasingly ridiculous parameters. Thanks to this, woke has been robbed of its true meaning. Personally, I consider myself woke but not a complete idiot, thank you very much. Gustav Klimt has been dead for 107 years so unless you are able to travel back in time and read his mind, it's hard to say what his true intentions were, although when I look at this painting I do not see a sexual assault in progress, For a more complete analysis of The Kiss, click here and you'll get the most likely interpretation, including the symbolism Klimt wove into this work. The Kiss, considered scandalous in its time, turned out to be Klimt's most popular painting.

Klimt's Judith 1 (below, 1901) exudes passion and deep satisfaction, although the woman depicted is-- deceptively--not in the throes of sexual ecstasy, but in the gratification of retribution. Based on the biblical story of Judith and Holofernes, the dominant figure holds the severed head of her enemy, who is barely visible in the right-hand corner. The model here is Klimt's good friend and possible lover, a Viennese socialite named Adele Bloch-Bauer. Bloch-Bauer, is more formally pictured in Klimt's 1907 painting Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer 1 (second from top). It is due to this painting that Bloch-Bauer was often referred to as the Austrian Mona Lisa. In 1941, the portrait was one of many stolen by the Nazi's in their looting of Jewish residences. It is this painting, particularly, that inspired the 2015 film Woman in Gold, which detailed the lengthy efforts of Bloch-Bauer's niece to retrieve this (along with other paintings in Bloch-Bauer's collection) from a recalcitrant Austrian government. Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer 1 now hangs in the New York's Neue Gallery. Incidentally, the choker worn by Bloch-Bauer in the painting was among other items taken by the Nazi's. It wound up in the possession of the notorious Hermann Goering and was never recovered.

Born in the Austrian Empire in 1862, Gustav Klimt grew up in a poverty-stricken household with a father who was frequently out of work. After the boy's drawings were noticed by teachers, Klimt, at age 14, was able to apply to an arts school to study architectural painting. During his early professional career, Klimt painted murals in public buildings: they were so well-received that the young artist received the Golden Order of Merit from the Austrian emperor, as well as honorary memberships in two universities, one in Vienna, the other Munich. Shortly afterwards, both Klimt's father and brother died, and he found himself not only supporting his brother's family but shifting his artistic vision to his own individual tastes. By this time, Klimt was involved (in one way or another) with various women, one of whom was fashion designer Emilie Floge, who became Klimt's lifelong companion. The ever-randy Klimt retained his womanizing ways and--allegedly--fathered at least 14 children during his wanderings from home. Floge is pictured in the 1902 painting that bears her name (below). Some have speculated that the relationship between Floge and Klimt was platonic, and that they had their own reasons for living together, but Klimt was no kiss-and-teller, nor, apparently was Floge, so the nature of their cohabitation is lost to inquiring minds.

Near the turn of the 19th Century, Klimt's work took a turn towards the overtly sexual. His Nuda Veritas (below, 1899) was seen as pornographic by authorities, politicians and the religious sector. Commissioned for display in the Great Hall of the University of Vienna, the painting was deemed unsuitable for public viewing. Nuda Veritas is thought to represent truth (the unwavering gaze of the nude woman) and the barriers that prevent it from being recognized (the snakes at the bottom of the painting). A true metaphor for our own country's current dilemma.

Klimt's Golden Phase was highly influenced by Italian mosaics and Byzantine imagery. This period also included portraits of society women draped in furs and notable gentlemen of the era. Yet, aside from his numerous sexual conquests, Klimt kept largely to himself. Despite all the critical acclaim and wealthy admirers, Klimt refused to indulge in the affluent lifestyle afforded by his work. Working from his home studio, Klimt's customary attire, like that of some of his subjects, consisted of a long flowing robe with nothing underneath. The better to seduce his models? I am unable to find any documentation regarding Klimt's alleged offspring or whether he ever bothered to acknowledge the majority of them. Gustav Klimt died in Vienna in 1918, of complications from a stroke, pneumonia and the Spanish Flu. His housemate Emilie Floge stayed with him until the end and outlived him by 32 years. Below, please find a few of Klimt's other paintings that helped bring him to public attention.