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Michael Andrews

 

This is a reworked article from 1998 which was dropped from publication at the time due to a dispute concerning photographic reproduction rights.

 

The small oeuvre of intensely considered realist pictures left to the world by Michael Andrews, who died of cancer in his mid-sixties in 1995, has a poetry and integrity uniquely its own.  His are deeply intelligent works, rooted in an understanding of the complexity of pictorial language, informed by photography but allied to observation.  True, they can appear dutifully conservative at times, but in a way that just adds to their quirkiness.  As Frank Auerbach once put it, "Mike does these things that at first look like old railway travel posters, but when you really look at them they are just truly beautiful pictures."  With Lucian Freud, Auerbach was a fanatically loyal champion of this quintessential artist’s artist.  Although Andrews enjoyed the patronage of certain well-placed figures within the British establishment, his reputation remains pretty limited even within Britain, and virtually non-existent overseas (although one important work, All Night Long, is in the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, Australia).  The combination of a small output, quiet life, uncontroversial subject matter and unostentatious painterly touch justify comparisons with Vermeer, whose reputation had to wait two centuries to be retrieved from oblivion.  Luckily, Andrews may not have to wait that long.  A retrospective is promised by Tate Britain in a couple of years, and in the meantime, his work can be seen, this Fall of 2000, at the Yale Center for British Art, in the exhibition “The School of London and Their Friends: The Collection of Elaine and Melvin Merians”. 

 

A belated memorial show held at the Timothy Taylor Gallery in the spring of 1998 brought together the three Thames pictures which turned out to be his last.  The series marked his return to London after many years seclusion in East Anglia.  One doesn't need to know they are last paintings (only two were finished) to sense their urgency of resolve.  The expressive and spontaneous treatment of surface was unparalleled in his career.  Not coincidentally, Mr Taylor's Mayfair premises, in Bruton Place, once housed the Beaux-Arts Gallery where, in the 1950s, the redoubtable Helen Lessore championed British realism, exhibiting Bacon, Auerbach, Kossoff, the Kitchen Sink painters, and - for his first two shows - Michael Andrews.  It was a resonant space in which to see his last works, especially as these deal with the river as repository of memories and symbol of the flow of time.

 

Much as Andrews deserves greater recognition, one could argue, in a bizarre kind of way, that a quiet exit from art historical consciousness would have fitted Andrews's artistic character.  A devotee of Zen Bhuddism, he actually made negation of ego one of his themes.  In his haunting ethereal landscape paintings of the 1970s - the Lights series - he adopted the hot air balloon as a metaphor of selfhood.  He had been chewing over the concept of "the skin-encapsulated ego" described in the writings of R.D.Laing when he was struck by a newspaper photo of a balloon which gave him his cue.  He once confided to the writer Lawrence Gowing "I love the sense of homelessness and rootlessness.  I'd like to die in a ditch."  He was, as it happens, buried in an unmarked grave, although at a well attendend funeral on the estate of his patron Baroness Willoughby de Eresby, on land where he was fond of deer-stalking.

 

Andrews was born in 1928 in Norwich where his strict Methodist family all worked for the Norwich Union insurance company.  At the Slade in the 1950s he was the star pupil of William Coldstream, a realist as torturously self-doubting as he was fanatically empirical.  In his own formative years at the Slade, a generation earlier, Coldstream had been torn between the rigorous observational realism advocated by Tonks and the temptations of Cézanne, Picasso, Matisse, a dichotomy he passed on, in a way, to Andrews and - to a lesser extent - his other protégé Euan Uglow.  In Andrews case the struggle was between the austerity of the Euston Road style, epitomised by Coldstream, and a new conception of the figure, in tune with the modish existentialism, presented by Giacometti and Bacon, although to be fair Coldstream enthused more about Giacometti among his charges than about himself. 

 

Extistentialism won the day in the paintings which catapulted the young Michael Andrews to national attention in the Slade Diploma Examination (degree) show of 1952.  "A Man Who Suddenly Fell Over" depicts a middle-aged, middle-class gent about to land, painfully, on the pavement, his besuited body twisted awkwardly between gravity and equilibrium, his expression also equally torn between perplexity, hopelessness and a frantic attempt at composure - he's literally saving face.  Much of the energy in this and other youthful works comes from its forceful awkwardness.  Indeed, David Sylvester, an early champion of Andrews, identified awkwarness as his key trait. Partly, Sylvester argued, this had to do with his Englishness (think of the figures in Turner or Constable) but it also relates to "the awkwardness of almost every modern painter who has not been content to solve his problems by simplifying them...The modern artist who aims at the inclusiveness of traditional European art runs up against the difficulty of recovering that inclusiveness without embracing what have become the clichés of the tradition, and the awkwardness arises from trying to have one without the other."  Andrews' awkwardness also had to do with the prevailing philosophical mood, however, and his temperament.

 

Meanwhile, the legacy of Coldstream's example, if not advocacy, of observation would resurface periodically in Andrews' oeuvre.  A decade later he embarked on a large group portrait of his family in his parents' Norfolk garden which attempted to remain strictly within the boundaries of perceptual analysis.  His immediately preceding paintings had actually used the same garden, with its distinctive porch and pergola, as the backdrop of freely imagined bacchanals strangely redolent of Puvis de Chavannes.  These featured his London friends, sunbathing or making out, in mannerist, distorted poses.  In contrast, the family portrait, which absorbed intense mental energies, is sober and conservative, filial to his religiously puritan parents and aesthetically puritan master, but even so, a tension can be sensed between the competing philosophies - put crudely, existentialism and empiricism.  The resulting style, as Peter Fuller described it, was of "clipped angst and trim unease". 

 

Still, there was more carousing to come.  The 1960s were dominated by an ongoing series which explored the party theme.  In violation of Methodist taboos Andrews threw himself into the drinking frenzy of Soho, keeping a sober eye, nonetheless, on the revellers at Dean Street's Colony Room - Freud, Bacon, and a cast of hangers on, many of whom were also portrayed by Freud and Bacon - which Andrews immortalised in his famous group portrait of 1962.  In another picture of the same year, The Deer Park, Norman Mailer's evocation of orgies in the novel of that title fuses with the format of a Velasquez painting in the National Gallery, the Boar Hunt, as well as scenes from Fellini movies, in an extraordinary depiction of forced gaiety and social posturing.  Bang in the centre of his image, isolated from the social throng by a billowy white couch, is a portrait of the poet Rimbaud, faithful in style to its photographic source.  Elsewhere, an abstracted (in both senses) Marilyn Monroe is dancing.  As much as a reinvention of figure painting and an exploration of the mood of the times, this image by Andrews belongs to the Pop canon.  Indeed its collision of high culture, the vernacular, personal allusions and painterly physionomic distortion directly relates to a younger artist whose example obsessed him, namely R.B. Kitaj (pages of his notebooks are filled with comments about the controversial newcomer).  This puts paid to the whingeing by self-proclaimed historical purists against the inclusion of both Andrews and Kitaj under the rubric "School of London".

 

If anything, the connection between Andrews and Kitaj is stylistically safer than that between Andrews and his close friends and admirers, Freud and Auerbach.  The act of painting The Deer Park was a new experience for him in that, working on board (instead of canvas) and under intense time pressure (six weeks), he escaped the "hard won" look which had characterised his work so far.  He suddenly realised that the blotchiness that comes from constant revision and the texture built up by pentimenti constituted a kind of "special pleading".  As Lawrence Gowing put it, "He did not want painting to look like hard work any more; it was decadent to boast of the effort; the loaded pigment had come to seem like surplus fat."  The move later on to acrylic, and the incorporation of silkscreens, stencils and airbrush, betoken deep disatisfaction, in his own work, with precisely those tropes of angst and effort that eat away at the credibility of certain of his School of London allies.

 

One way that Andrews freed himself from the tyranny of observation was in his increasingly central use of photographs as source material, although images encountered in the press had rivalled observation from life and free imagination from the outset.  History must judge Andrews by the beauty and poignancy of his images, not by his degree of perceptual observation, which is the means not the end of effectiveness, but it is reasonable to be aware of his varying dependendence on photography as this signals very different kinds of picture making.  It doesn't seem that he ever took to the photograph as a Dadaist stance against painting.  Even his most extreme incorporation of found photographic material, The Lord Mayor's Reception in Norwich Castle Keep on the eve of the installation of the first Chancellor of the University of East Anglia, 1966-69, with its mass of dinner-suited guests and its satirical edge, seems genuinely to be about a new kind of history painting rather than a critique of painting per se.  Sometimes, in the tradition of Degas and Sickert, the photo is a way of invigorating his art by acknowledging another layer of visual language, revealing the unexpected quirks inherent in the art of depiction.  Andrews himself talked about "articulate illusions".  This level of pictorial inquiry comes across in his masterful and intriguing figure composition, Melanie and Me Swimming, 1978-79 (Tate Gallery).  Othertimes, though, the photograph is more of a shortcut to an easy-to-assimilate realism.  And yet, one would be loathe to write-off such images for this reason.  His Lights series reveal him at his most exquisite, eerie and ethereal, and yet also - technically - at his most unmediated in his use of the photograph.

 

This series deals metaphorically, as mentioned already, with the spiritual theme at the heart of Andrews outlook: the abnegation of ego.  He believed that, in the very act of making images on the subject, he could effect his own enlightenment.  To this end, the impersonal - selfless - quality of the snapshot represented per se a kind of ego-loss, letting go of an attachment to the fiction of the artist's unique touch.  The series, almost like programme music, followed a quasi-narrative sequence.  The balloon, a metaphor of selfhood, at times puffed up, at others floating by magesterially, is seen crossing a noctornal Thames, then casting its shadow over a beach, and finally disappearing from the picture but presumably the vantage point still for aerial views of seaside scenes - a spa or a pier - suffused with an oceanic sense of release.  But even before the series came to its conclusion, he realised that, from a Buddhist perspective, it hadn't worked precisely because it implied a seperation of goal and journey.  As Alan Watts put it in his 1957 cult classic, "The Way of Zen", (a book Andrews read and was influenced by), "...the practice of Zen is not the true practice so long as it has an end in view, and when it has no view in end it is awakening - the aimless, self-sufficient life of the 'eternal now'".  By a neat coincidence in intellectual history, by the way, after Andrews, inspired by Laing, painted images inspired by the notion of the "skin-encapsulated ego", the French psychoanalyst Didier Anzieu devoted a paper to Francis Bacon exploring this "painter of rents in the skin ego".

 

In his strivings to avoid the pitfalls of expressionism it could be argued that Andrews veered too far in the opposite direction, towards illustration.  The smooth, glassy opaqueness of the Lights series expunged the last elements of his earlier, defining characteristic of awkwardness.  Perhaps Andrews had come to view "awkwardness" as a trope, like the har