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Lot Essay
As singular in his idiosyncratic approach to painting as in his conjoining of explorations both spatial and psychological, George Condo draws on a veritable amalgam of movements and styles in a concerted effort to unlock the cerebral and emotional depth inherent in his work. Lost at Sea is an accomplished example of the painter’s figurative mode that marries representational forms with pure abstraction. First exhibited at the opening exhibition of Per Skarstedt’s new gallery space in Chelsea in 2014 (another work from this exhibition was acquired by The Broad, Los Angeles), Lost at Sea is bursting with both frantic painterly energy and brooding depth. A contemporary and close friend of both Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat in the New York art scene of the 1980s, the artist championed a resurgence of painting whose effects can still be felt today. Melding an encyclopedic knowledge of art history with an interest in perception and mental states, Condo’s career grew tangentially to the more referential modes being touted in the Postmodern era. Continuing to flourish and thrive outside of the mainstream, works like Lost at Sea are a testament to the artist’s staunch adherence to his own personal style and inimitable perseverance.
A central figure in profile dominates the canvas of Lost at Sea. However, except for the vague outline of a head and shoulders viewed from the side, a large, naturalistically rendered right ear and a more cartoon eye with blue iris and bold, individual lashes are the only readily recognizable parts of a face. Behind the ear, a shock of blonde-brown hair exists briefly before being overtaken by the stained glass fracture of the remaining countenance. Somewhere between a painterly inquisition on brushwork and the multicolored patterning of a Harlequin’s garb, Condo’s subject exists in multiple visual dimensions at once. The painter’s deft hand pulls discrete planes out toward the viewer while sinking others into the dark abyss of the mottled black and blue background. “My painting is all about this interchangeability of languages in art”, Condo has noted on occasion, “where one second you might feel the background has the shading and tonalities you would see in a Rembrandt portrait, but the subject is completely different and painted like some low-culture, transgressive mutation of a comic strip” (G. Condo, quoted in J. Belcove, “George Condo interview”, in Financial Times, April 21, 2013). Combining techniques and styles extracted from art history, Condo is able to create images uniquely his own. Though they might be portraits at their core, the emotional states of human consciousness are laid bare on multiple levels that collide and crash in exquisite chaos.
Combining the history of art and psychological examination, Condo’s practice concerns itself with not just the visual, but also various degrees of mental states. “I describe what I do as psychological cubism. Picasso painted a violin from four different perspectives at one moment. I do the same with psychological states. Four of them can occur simultaneously. Like glimpsing a bus with one passenger howling over a joke they’re hearing down the phone, someone else asleep, someone else crying – I’ll put them all in one face” (G. Condo, quoted in S. Jeffries, “George Condo: ‘I was delirious. Nearly Died’”, in The Guardian, February 10, 2014). The influence of portrait masters like Caravaggio or the early Cubists is palpable in works like Lost at Sea, but glimpses of Abstract Expressionism and Surrealist automatism peer through the artist’s precise linework and often cartoon-like renderings. New York Times art critic Holland Cotter remarked on this merger when he noted, “George Condo is an artist whose work is deeply engaged with the traditions of European and American painting. From his early days in the avant-garde East Village art scene in the 1980s, he has been widely recognized as the missing link that connects the figurative tradition begun by Rembrandt, Picasso and Bacon to his contemporaries, John Currin, Glenn Brown, Dana Schutz and others. (H. Cotter, “A Mind Where Picasso Meets Looney Tunes,” New York Times, January 27, 2011). The thick, rich colors of Francis Bacon are especially relevant to a reading of Lost at Sea, whose visceral background oozes around the subject and threatens to envelop any semblance of representation.
Condo’s work is often less about an internal struggle and more a reflection of the world around him. Some semblance of the artist’s inner workings are inevitable, but he is quick to note that he wants his works to act as a catalyst, not just diaristic entries on canvas. “It’s not just the character in the paintings,” he remarked, “It’s also going to be about the people who come to see the paintings and what it does to their mental state, to see all these different reflections of humanity, from all walks of life, happening at the same time on the wall” (G. Condo, quoted in M. Cashdan, “The Mental States of George Condo”, Huffington Post, May 25, 2011). By placing so many different layers of image and form on top of one another, Condo invites an expedition of discovery and entices the viewer to dig deeper into the composition and their own personal reactions.
A central figure in profile dominates the canvas of Lost at Sea. However, except for the vague outline of a head and shoulders viewed from the side, a large, naturalistically rendered right ear and a more cartoon eye with blue iris and bold, individual lashes are the only readily recognizable parts of a face. Behind the ear, a shock of blonde-brown hair exists briefly before being overtaken by the stained glass fracture of the remaining countenance. Somewhere between a painterly inquisition on brushwork and the multicolored patterning of a Harlequin’s garb, Condo’s subject exists in multiple visual dimensions at once. The painter’s deft hand pulls discrete planes out toward the viewer while sinking others into the dark abyss of the mottled black and blue background. “My painting is all about this interchangeability of languages in art”, Condo has noted on occasion, “where one second you might feel the background has the shading and tonalities you would see in a Rembrandt portrait, but the subject is completely different and painted like some low-culture, transgressive mutation of a comic strip” (G. Condo, quoted in J. Belcove, “George Condo interview”, in Financial Times, April 21, 2013). Combining techniques and styles extracted from art history, Condo is able to create images uniquely his own. Though they might be portraits at their core, the emotional states of human consciousness are laid bare on multiple levels that collide and crash in exquisite chaos.
Combining the history of art and psychological examination, Condo’s practice concerns itself with not just the visual, but also various degrees of mental states. “I describe what I do as psychological cubism. Picasso painted a violin from four different perspectives at one moment. I do the same with psychological states. Four of them can occur simultaneously. Like glimpsing a bus with one passenger howling over a joke they’re hearing down the phone, someone else asleep, someone else crying – I’ll put them all in one face” (G. Condo, quoted in S. Jeffries, “George Condo: ‘I was delirious. Nearly Died’”, in The Guardian, February 10, 2014). The influence of portrait masters like Caravaggio or the early Cubists is palpable in works like Lost at Sea, but glimpses of Abstract Expressionism and Surrealist automatism peer through the artist’s precise linework and often cartoon-like renderings. New York Times art critic Holland Cotter remarked on this merger when he noted, “George Condo is an artist whose work is deeply engaged with the traditions of European and American painting. From his early days in the avant-garde East Village art scene in the 1980s, he has been widely recognized as the missing link that connects the figurative tradition begun by Rembrandt, Picasso and Bacon to his contemporaries, John Currin, Glenn Brown, Dana Schutz and others. (H. Cotter, “A Mind Where Picasso Meets Looney Tunes,” New York Times, January 27, 2011). The thick, rich colors of Francis Bacon are especially relevant to a reading of Lost at Sea, whose visceral background oozes around the subject and threatens to envelop any semblance of representation.
Condo’s work is often less about an internal struggle and more a reflection of the world around him. Some semblance of the artist’s inner workings are inevitable, but he is quick to note that he wants his works to act as a catalyst, not just diaristic entries on canvas. “It’s not just the character in the paintings,” he remarked, “It’s also going to be about the people who come to see the paintings and what it does to their mental state, to see all these different reflections of humanity, from all walks of life, happening at the same time on the wall” (G. Condo, quoted in M. Cashdan, “The Mental States of George Condo”, Huffington Post, May 25, 2011). By placing so many different layers of image and form on top of one another, Condo invites an expedition of discovery and entices the viewer to dig deeper into the composition and their own personal reactions.