I wish women wore hats the way they did in the 1920s and 1930s. I don’t know what it is, exactly. Sure, men’s hats are OK too. But it’s not the same; they’re not as interesting; they don’t evoke the age in quite the same way.
There is something wonderful about a woman in a hat.
A couple of weeks ago I blogged about the late Beryl Cook and how much I love her art.
Another British artist – Jenny Saville, I think to be amazingly gifted though I wouldn’t necessarily want her art hanging in my home. Not that it would ever fit – her canvases are huge – that’s part of her signature style.
The motif for which she is most well known is her depiction of the female form at its most gargantuan and grotesque. She is likened to Lucien Freud for her traditional, painterly style and she is also a key figure of the YBO (Young British Artists) movement, as were, back in the 1990s. She continues to be one of the most high profile artists we have.
Her work assaults the senses. I can just imagine walking into a huge gallery hall and seeing these pictures (several meters high) and feeling quite gob smacked. I haven’t seen her work, but would like to. I despise her depiction of women, like corpulent pig flesh, and yet she has the power to captivate and hold the attention that can’t be overstated; the image stays on in your mind.
I also like that she eschews the ‘cleverness’ of so much (modern) art. Like the Tracy Emins and Damien Hirsts. They have interesting ideas but her innate ability to paint hugely powerful art – trumps the new-fangled stuff for me.
Some of her most well known work is below. They all shock, and these are less shocking than some of her others.
Scale of her pictures (that is not her in the picture).
An interview she gave in The Guardian.