Man's Head, Self-Portrait, 1963
"I don't accept the information that I get when I look at myself and that's where the trouble starts". Lucian Freud
More self-portraits from the hand of an artist who, just like Gauguin (here), juggled an extraordinarily involved and difficult personal life with #metoo-style accusations of abuses of power. It was really interesting to see the development of Freud's work here from the juvenile works to the more mature bravura impasto paintwork. The one constant throughout his development seems to be the dispassionate, pathological scrutinising gaze which he applied not only to the subjects he depicted, but also to the examinations of himself as witnessed here. As in the Gauguin show the curators appear to be playing with the idea of what constitutes a self-portrait, as in a few of these pictures Freud has the merest presence, glimpsed perhaps in a reflection, or represented by a pair of shoes, or a small painted self-portrait overlooked by the main subject of the portrait, or more ominously as a shadowy presence, overbearingly hovering over a young, naked, female subject. There appears to be a stillness in these paintings probably the high price, dedication and focus required by the sitter for the exacting Freud. There is also at times an uncomfortable psychological tension being played out between artist and sitter, and artist/viewer, also a sense of claustrophobia because of the starkness of the small studio setting. I saw possible comparisons with the recording of the ageing process between the portraits of Freud and Rembrandt, where Freud too shows himself undergoing the ageing process, eliciting sympathy for the depictions on their faces of the scars of experience, and their faces betraying the signs of men almost broken by the experiences of a lives fully lived. Freud takes this a stage further in the final painting of the show, presenting himself completely naked except for a pair of old slippers, still defiantly wielding his paintbrush and palette, letting us know despite age, he was still a force to be reckoned with.
Self-Portrait, 1940
Self-Portrait as Actaeon, 1949
Man with a Feather, 1943
Man at Night (Self-Portrait), 1947/48
Self-Portrait with Hyacinth in a Pot, 1947/48
Man with a Thistle (Self-Portrait), 1946
Hotel Bedroom, 1954
Man's Head, Small Portrait III (Self-Portrait), 1963
Self-Portrait with Black Eye, 1978
Self-Portrait, 1952
Untitled Self-Portrait, 1970 (detail)
Four watercolour studies
Self-Portrait, c.1956
Interior with Plant, Reflection Listening (Self-Portrait), 1967-68
Interior with Hand Mirror, 1967
Hand Mirror on a Chair,
Reflection with Two Children (Self-Portrait), 1965
Self-Portrait Reflection Fragment, c.1965
Naked Portrait with Reflection, 1980
Two Irishmen in W11, 1984-85
Flora with Blue Toenails, 2000-2001
Reflection (Self-Portrait), 1985
Self-Portrait, 2002
Self-Portrait: Reflection, 1996
Self-Portrait, 1990-91
Self-Portrait, Reflection, 2003-2004
Self-Portrait, 2002
Painter Working, Reflection, 1993
I arrived at the Freud exhibition the day following the closure of the brilliant Antony Gormley show (here). As I walked through the Royal Academy courtyard I wanted to see the Iron Baby sculpture for the last time, and noticed, and was intrigued by the anonymous installation of what appeared to be an ice sculpture of a lifejacket close to Iron Baby. I asked the RA staff in the gallery what, and who the piece was by, but they were no wiser than me or the other visitors. Was it a comment by Banksy or some other maverick? Who knows. What I did love about the installation was the juxtaposition of the celebrity of the famous artist - Gormley, and the anonymity of the interloping installation. The fleeting impermanence of the ice piece, exposed to the elements, gradually melting into nothingness, like a Goldsworthy, against the permanence and durability of the weatherproof Iron Baby.
Lucian Freud: The Self-Portraits
until 26th January 2020
The Royal Academy
Burlington House,
Piccadilly,
London,
W1J 0BD
