The Muse and the Murderer: Art School Confidential

You really captured my otherness.
--Sophia Myles, Art School Confidential (2006)

I must admit that I really like this quote. It comes from the original screenplay for the 2006 film Art School Confidential yet it never appears in the actual movie, director Terry Zwigoff instead choosing to go with a less verbal approach.

For that matter, I also like this quote:

You know, nobody ever gives the model any credit, but in a way, they're just as important as the artist. It's really much more of a collaboration than people think.
--Max Minghella, Art School Confidential (2006)

However, I can see why Zwigoff also left that quote out of the actual movie.

That said, there was not much else to say about this movie. On one hand, it had some amusing visuals in the opening segment as well as a great parody of the nude scene from Titanic. On the other hand, it seemed to spend a lot of time beating what most people outside the artistic community -- and no doubt, many within it --would consider to be a dead horse. After all, it was not like the pompousness of modern artists has never been ridiculed in pop culture before.

Anyway, just because many real-life artists have a well-deserved reputation for being arrogant and pretentious does not mean that it seems very sporting to devote a whole movie to pointing that out. Especially when we live in a country when all too many artists are stranded in obscurity.

If we lived in a country where artists had more power and more prestige, then they would be more of a valid target. But unfortunately, we don't.

The movie itself was best appreciated as a character study. The protagonist was a young art student (played by Max Minghella) who wished to become a famous artist, only to become derailed on his journey when he developed a crush on a beautiful artist's model (played by Sophia Myles). There was a brief subplot involving a series of murders involving local residents but Zwigoff seemed to be not as interested in the resolution of that subplot as he was in showing repeated images of ridiculous artwork. He did manage to include a few nice scenes as well -- for example, the way the artist's model winced when kissed by an ex-lover said more about the character than a more vocal reaction would have -- and it was also nice to see Anjelica Huston appear once briefly as a sympathetic art teacher even though she was not given a lot to do.

Ironically, the movie's climax made our hero look less sympathetic than he was at the beginning of the movie. On one hand, he was accused of a crime of which he was obviously innocent. On the other hand, it seemed obvious that the artist in question was guilty of an even bigger crime for which he was never punished. And of course, said crime went unmentioned at the movie's end even though it led to a loss of life. Of course, it could be argued that the artist's crime was unintentional and that it ultimately punished a murderer who might have otherwise got away scotfree. But I suspect the filmmaker would rather have us concentrate on his film's final image -- one that is ultimately more attractive than the moral issues one might otherwise think about.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Francisco de Goya!

AKA Francisco de Goya y Lucientes.

Born March 30, 1746. Died April 16, 1828.

He was one of the greatest Spanish artists of all time.

A brief sample of his work:

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Édouard Manet!

Born January 23, 1832. Died April 30, 1883.

He was a famous French painter responsible for such famous works as Le déjeuner sur l'herbe. One of his paintings even managed to shock the normally unshockable Mark Twain.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, William Blake!

Born November 28, 1757. Died August 12, 1827.

He was one of the most famous of the English poets -- apart from Lord Byron and that Shakespeare chap, of course -- and a famous artist as well. The above portrait is one of my favorite works by Blake.

R.I.P. Geoffrey Holder

Trinidad-born Geoffrey Holder -- a man who seemed equally famous for his acting, dancing, choreography and painting as well as for his famous voice -- uttered his last syllable on October 6 at age 84.

He will be missed.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Edward Hopper!

Born July 22, 1882. Died May 15, 1967.

He was an American painter who specialized in urban and rural landscapes. More often than not, his paintings had a hint of sadness in them, if not of a story waiting to be told. His most famous work was the 1942 painting Nighthawks (seen below).

My late father used to have a book of paintings by him. He is not my favorite artist but my appreciation for his work has grown in the last few years. It does not hurt that he was one of the last American painters I have come across who actually believed in painting recognizable images. Then again, I was never a big fan of abstract art.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Andrew Wyeth!

AKA Andrew Newell Wyeth.

Born July 12, 1917. Died January 16, 2009.

He was one of the last American realist painters to be well-known to the general public. One of his most famous paintings is the 1948 work known as Christina's World (pictured above), which I first discovered in sixth grade art class. To this day, it is one of my all-time favorite paintings. It does not hurt that my late father used to own a book of Wyeth paintings as well.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Frida Kahlo!

AKA Magdalena Frida Carmen Kahlo y Calderón.

Born July 6, 1907. Died July 13, 1954.

She was one of the most famous artists in Mexican history. Her husband, Diego Rivera, of course, was also a famous artist and he had a profound influence on her work -- though not always in a good way. She is also one of the few female artists still regularly referenced in pop culture. Hopefully, she will have lots of company in that field one day.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, M. C. Escher!

AKA Maurits Cornelis Escher.

Born June 17, 1898. Died March 27, 1972.

He was a Dutch graphic artist who inspired hundreds of would-be art fans who would normally venture nowhere near an art book. I used to see quite a number of blacklight posters inspired by his work in my teenage years but nowadays I suspect such work is no longer popular with today's teens. Still, as you can tell from the above drawings, Escher did have a knack for drawing memorable images.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Diego Velázquez!

AKA Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez.

Baptised June 6, 1599. Died August 6, 1660.

He was a famous Spanish painter who depicted himself as the artist within the above painting. (Said painting is known as Las Meninas or The Maids of Honour.) He is also famous for such paintings as Las Hilanderas (aka The Spinners)...

...and The Rokeby Venus (aka La Venus del Espejo aka The Venus of the Mirror).

As you might guess, he is one of my favorite painters.

R.I.P. H. R. Giger

Swiss surrealist, sculptor, painter and set designer Hans Rudolf "Ruedi" Giger -- more commonly known as H. R. Giger and most famous for his part in the design work for the 1979 science fiction film Alien -- finished his last piece yesterday at the age of 71.

He will be missed.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Édouard Manet!

Born January 23, 1832. Died April 30, 1883.

He was a famous French painter responsible for such famous works as Le déjeuner sur l'herbe. One of his paintings even managed to shock the normally unshockable Mark Twain.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Edward Hopper!

Born July 22, 1882. Died May 15, 1967.

He was an American painter who specialized in urban and rural landscapes. More often than not, his paintings had a hint of sadness in them, if not of a story waiting to be told. His most famous work was the 1942 painting Nighthawks (seen below).




My late father used to have a book of paintings by him. He is not my favorite artist but my appreciation for his work has grown in the last few years. It does not hurt that he was one of the last American painters I have come across who actually believed in painting recognizable images. Then again, I was never a big fan of abstract art.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Andrew Wyeth!

AKA Andrew Newell Wyeth.

Born July 12, 1917. Died January 16, 2009.

He was one of the last American realist painters to be well-known to the general public. One of his most famous paintings is the 1948 work known as Christina's World (pictured above), which I first discovered in sixth grade art class. To this day, it is one of my all-time favorite paintings. It does not hurt that my late father used to own a book of Wyeth paintings as well.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, M. C. Escher!

AKA Maurits Cornelis Escher.

Born June 17, 1898. Died March 27, 1972.

He was a Dutch graphic artist who inspired hundreds of would-be art fans who would normally venture nowhere near an art book. I used to see quite a number of blacklight posters inspired by his work in my teenage years but nowadays I suspect such work is no longer popular with today's teens. Still, as you can tell from the above drawings, Escher did have a knack for drawing memorable images.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Diego Velázquez!

AKA Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez.

Baptised June 6, 1599. Died August 6, 1660.

He was a famous Spanish painter who depicted himself as the artist within the above painting. (Said painting is known as Las Meninas or The Maids of Honour.) He is also famous for such paintings as Las Hilanderas (aka The Spinners)...

...and The Rokeby Venus (aka La Venus del Espejo aka The Venus of the Mirror).

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Francisco de Goya!

AKA Francisco de Goya y Lucientes.

Born March 30, 1746. Died April 16, 1828.

One of the great Spanish artists of all time. Ironically, he's most famous for allegedly painting the Duchess of Alba like one of Jack Dawson's French girls, a deed which may or may not have happened depending on which historian you ask.

He is also famous for this very creepy drawing.

Of course, as much as I like that piece, I must confess to being more partial to this:

Then again, I did edit that last piece a bit...

Pensamientos Acerca de Televisión

Night Gallery: “Pickman's Model”

Well, you know how it is. You think you're going to have a nice quiet evening at home and then company drops by unexpectedly. Not just any company but that crazy girl you met in art class who seemed to be flirting with you earlier in the day. No sooner than you realize this but you get a second shock. It turns out that some of your no-account kinfolk have taken it upon themselves to drop by as well and you just know that if they ever meet your lady visitor, things will turn out badly for everyone. For you in particular.

Of course, a lot more than this happens in the Night Gallery episode entitled “Pickman's Model” and yet that above paragraph sums up the whole episode better than anything else I can think of. It certainly can't be summed up by the H. P. Lovecraft short story of the same name. As much as I would like to bla -- er -- give credit to the late Mr. Lovecraft for this episode, it owes a lot more to screenwriter Alvin Sapinsley's invention than to Lovecraft's work. And perhaps that's a good thing. Rest assured that Lovecraft had no room for romances in his version of the Pickman story -- he barely had room for plot and character. And yet this episode managed to be memorable despite all that.

Of course, the first time I saw this episode, I was still in grade school -- and thus easily impressed by tales of ghosts, ghouls and monsters. Despite what Rod Serling once said in an interview, I did not tune into Night Gallery expecting Mannix in a shroud -- or even Peyton Place in a crypt. In fact, it was my late father who originally introduced me to the show -- and what he saw in it, I'll never know. Then again, he was a big fan of the original Twilight Zone and it was his influence, no doubt, that got me hooked on the work of Rod Serling to begin with. And through Rod Serling, I eventually got introduced to the work of other writers such as Fritz Leiber, Richard Matheson, Charles Beaumont, Manley Wade Wellman and eventually... H. P. Lovecraft.

In any event, when I first discovered Night Gallery, I was still into late night creature features so I tended to like the scary episodes (which were rarely written by Mr. Serling) far more than the intellectual think-pieces (which were more often than not Mr. Serling's work) -- and of course, “Pickman's Model” was one of my favorites. It didn't hurt that when I first saw this episode, it seemed a lot more scary to me than it does today. I was not yet burnt out on umpteen hundred horror movies and horror shows. Nor was I was so blase that I automatically looked for the zipper on the back of the poor monster's suit. The revelation concerning actor Bradford Dillman's Richard Upton Pickman character--an eccentric artist prone to painting weird and morbid subjects -- seemed a lot more surprising to my young eyes than it probably would be to today's pre-teen viewers. And of course, the twist ending seemed a lot more ominous to my young self -- ominous enough to make for quite a few sleepless nights.

And yet even today I still continue to be fascinated by those aspects of the Pickman story which the screenwriter did not explain. Why exactly did an unmarried artist like Pickman live in a big old house by himself? What did the poor guy do on Mother's Day? For that matter, what did he do on Father's Day? If he hated human company so much, why was he hanging around them so much? Why didn't he just give up his residence and move in with his relatives?

Alas, none of these questions will ever be answered and I wonder if I might not be the only viewer of this episode who really cares. I am especially appalled that screenwriter Alvin Sapinsley chose to end the episode with hints about Pickman's mysterious disappearance because it would have been more interesting if the episode had had a less conventional ending.

Perhaps Miss Goldsmith (Pickman's would-be love interest) could have persuaded Pickman to paint more commercial subjects like, say, soup cans. True, her family and his might have had a few conflicts when she and Pickman became a couple, but on the other hand, true love has survived more daunting obstacles. Besides, Louise Sorel -- the actress who played Miss Goldsmith -- was so sweet that she probably could have charmed the dead right out of their graves. And surely Pickman's kinfolk would have had no problem with that.

Pensamientos Acerca de Televisión

Doctor Who (The Second Series): “Vincent and the Doctor”

This was obviously one of the most ambitious episodes of this season and the first one written for the series by former Blackadder writer Richard Curtis.

You don't have to know a whole lot about Vincent van Gogh or art to appreciate this episode. But it helps. Even if you did not know anything about van Gogh apart from the old story about him cutting off his ear, I suspect you would still get a lot out of it. After all, you don't have to know a lot about art to know what it's like to be depressed. Or to feel unappreciated. And it is a credit to Curtis that he manages to make van Gogh's feelings in that area more believable than one would expect to find in a science fiction show.

Of course, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if the Doctor has not found something wrong in a van Gogh painting like he did at the beginning of this episode but if instead he had found something wrong in an Escher print. Or a Hopper painting. Or a Picasso portrait. Or...You get the idea.

Pop Song of the Week: “Vincent”

I was going to go with a less serious choice this week but after last weekend's Doctor Who episode, I had no choice but to go with this.

You want a less predictable dedication? Okay. This song is for that wonderfully bewitching entity who posts on MaryAnn's site under the name bronxbee. I suspect I know her real name but she hasn't chosen to reveal it online so I won't either.

I hope you all enjoy the song.