Jacob Collin:
Recent Paintings
Hirschl & Adler Modern
21 East 70th Street
New York City
Through June 4. 2004
212-535-8810
Jacob Collins
Redhead 2004
oil on canvas, 30 x 40 inches
Courtesy Hirschl & Adler Modern
Jacob Collins is a contemporary realist whose subjects are traditional
landscapes, still lifes, portraits and nudes. The best of them
display luminescent color and impassioned but restrained emotion.
There are art historical references going back to the Greeks but
which mostly hover closer in spririt to Salon painters like Hippolyte
Flandran and Adolphe Bouguereau. What distinguishes Collins from
mainstream current realism is an absence of almost any pointers
to contemporary life. I confess to finding this unsettling. For
example, most of his still lifes of floral bouquets, caught fish,
goat cheeses and figs are purposely devoid of environmental trappings
that could tie them to the present day. Where is the Tupperware?
The Coke cans, the Maidenform rubber gloves? The electric can
openers and TV remotes that are so inevitable in modern kitchens?
If a contemporary realist by definition naturally represents the
visual world, then Collins is doing a lot of editing.
"Gun"
for example, a portrait of a handgun mounted on plywood, portrays
an antique revolver rather than one you'd see unholstered on "Cops".
"Redhead," a voluptuous and seductive female nude, subtly
alludes to a lurid dime novel cover from the Forties. "Gun"
and "Fish" harken back to the Nineteenth Century style
of William Harnett. "Hyena" depicts a fur throw rug
with the unfortunate animal's taxidermied head still attached.
One thinks of taxidermied quadrupeds as being the marvels of the
Darwinian era, and the dust collectors of our own. The vibrant
and lucid skins of his nudes are devoid of the current trend of
piercing and tattooing. Beautiful, masterful and arresting it
is, but just what is contemporary about this realism? My discomfort
probably arose from questioning Collins' motivation-was there
something less than genuine lurking underneath his work? Was he
possibly turning off his brain and grinding out pretty pictures
devoid of social content to make them more palatable and easier
to peddle to unsophisticated high-rollers?
I posed this
question to Collins recently in his East Side studio. After reflecting
briefly, this exceedingly urbane and articulate painter explained
that his artistic vision developed in childhood. As a schoolboy
Collins would find challenge and excitement in emulating drawings
of the muscular physiques of superheroes and action figures, only
to find them powerfully eclipsed by the great Renaissance paintings
and sculptures he later discovered in art history books and on
museum visits. Collins identified so strongly with the ardent
human sensitivity and passion exemplified in such works that he
felt alienated from contemporary trends. Collins says he deliberately
and affirmatively evokes a past era, just as Nicolas Poussin did,
for example, with his toga-wearing subjects frolicking through
Arcadian fields he painted in the Seventeenth Century. The difference
is that the past Collins evokes is less remote, and sometimes
so subtle that it may not be comprehended by the viewer. What
makes Collins relevant to the Twenty-First Century is that his
desire to look backward, or at least to stand still counters the
absurd, the minimal, the commercial, the shock for shock value
that runs amok in contemporary life and art. Although it seemed
highly improbable and problematic at the time, Collins decided
to follow his muse and pursue traditional academic painting as
his calling, and in so doing has created his own artistic realm.
Jacob Collins
is at the forefront of the contemporary realism: He founded the
Water Street Atelier in Brooklyn, and has taught at the New York
Academy of Art and the National Academy of Design, which has won
him the respected following of a new generation of academically
trained artists. I first encountered him at his debut New York
one-man show at the Union League Club in 1990. The work was impressive,
and the prices astonishing for someone who had only left art school
the year before. I passed on making any purchases at the time,
but as high as it may have been, Collins' market value has climbed
steadily upward, and in my estimation his best pieces justify
their airy price tags.
As he does
not present a theoretical "advance" in art or aesthetics,
there would be little more to say about his style but for the
fact that his best works are so compelling. "Great South
Bay from Fire Island, Off Season" is an intensely impassioned
view of the bay seen under a brooding, overcast sky; its gloom
is counterbalanced by a distant break in the clouds which gives
rise to glimmering catches of light reflecting on the choppy waters.
"Sleeping Woman" continues a dazzling line of reclining
female nudes, lying on a bed covered with white linens, which
could be set in any era from yesterday back to Biblical times.
Gregory
J. Peterson is a New York corporate lawyer who collects and lectures
about contemporary realist painting.
|
