Hot Bodies

Dana Schutz, Frank on a Rock, oil on canvas, 2002. Schutz says, "I have been working on a group of paintings loosely hinged on the act of painting a fictional man from observation...the paintings are premised on the imaginary situation that the man and I are the last people on earth. The man is the last subject and the last audience and, because the man isn't making any paintings, I am the last painter."

Brooke Shields at age 10, photographed by Garry Gross in 1975 and rephotographed by Richard Prince in his 1993 work, "Spiritual America." The version seen here was found on the internet and has been further altered; someone has cropped the photo, changed the color, and added a black and green border. Shields has unsuccessfully fought to gain control over the photographs in this series for years. Courts have said both that Shields' career was built on her sexuality (and thus she has no reason to complain) and that the photographs are not sexual in nature: "They are pictures of a prepubescent girl posing innocently in the bath." Prince's version of the photograph was sold at Christie's in 1999 for $151,000.

Looking: A Painting that Is Not Mine / A Painting that Is Mine

Anita Malfatti, A Onda (The Wave), c. 1915.

Anita Malfatti, A Onda (The Wave), c. 1915, (Detail).

Anita Malfatti, A Onda (The Wave), c. 1915, (Detail).

A Painting that Is Not Mine

I first see a painting from the distance. I am far away from it, but I can identify its size and its relationship to other objects and/or people around it.  I walk and the painting moves with my body. I realize my body’s relationship to the painting changes constantly (and so does my perception). Then, I stop. Take it all in. To me, this is the distance that excites me the least—medium distance. This is the place where I “understand” the painting the most because I see its entirety. This distance from the painting feels like I am looking at the painting through a computer screen. I slowly get closer and closer, until I get as close as possible. My nose becomes the only barrier between my eyes and the painting. My eyes wander and I cannot see anything in the corner of my eyes but the painting. I look at each stroke, lump, residue from one corner to the other. While I stare at each corner, I realize the painting is many small paintings. The painting multiples and moves in ways I never thought it would. The painting transforms in front of me—it is not as static as I though it was.

A Painting that Is Mine

When I make a painting, I see it from very close. My first encounter with a painting as a maker is the materials, then the shapes, colors, textures as I create it. Every painting is created very intimately at first. The more I add to the painting, the more distance I need from it. (I am one of those who keeps checking every distance and angle possible). The process of making is the process of detaching. A painting gets closer to being done when I am able to detach my body from it—believing it can live by itself and it doesn’t need me anymore.

The act of making paintings does not allow me to see paintings so statically. 

Bruna Massadas, The Giant's Eye, 2012. Acrylics on canvas,  10 X 14 inches. (Detail).

Bruna Massadas, The Giant's Eye, 2012. Acrylics on canvas,  10 X 14 inches. (Detail).

Bruna Massadas, The Giant's Eye, 2012. Acrylics on canvas,  10 X 14 inches.