This essay was published in the 1991 edition of AICARC,
the defunct annual publication of the International Association of Art
Critics when it was the turn of the British Section to edit the magazine.
It reflects the author's early thinking on the two critics.
I am offering a comparison here of two
critics who at first seem irreconcilable, and who might be thought
to represent opposite extremes of the British critical response to
Modernism. For Herbert
Read (1893-1968) was the constant evangelist for the new, the founder
and president of the Institute of Contemporary Art, and the prospective
director of London's (aborted) Museum Of Modern Art. It was once said of him that he attended the birth of every
art movement, but never the funeral.
While Read could write an article entitled 'Why the English
have no taste' for a
Peter Fuller (1947-1990) was a self-styled 'fogey'
in manners and tastes, setting the highest values on craft, tradition
and aesthetic conservatism.
He welcomed the description of himself by arch-enemy Victor
Burgin as a 'Tory marxist'. Read's and Fuller's attitudes towards
internationalism would seem to sum up the differences between the
two men, for Read, an art functionary on a global scale, active in
the running of UNESCO and biennale committees, his books translated
into many languages, was a key player in the internationalization
of modern art, the effects of which were one of Fuller's bętes
noires. Fuller devised the term "B.I.C.C.A.", standing for Biennale International Club
Class Art, to designate the trendy new art he despised the most, the
art found in photo fit collections in museums and kunsthalles across
the western world, which he related to the phony internationalism
of airports and Hilton hotels.
But here, as much as anywhere else, the positions of Read and
Fuller were not so diametrically opposed, for in 'The Grass Roots
of Art' (1946) Read admits to being "afraid of the internationalizing
tendencies of our age" and its likely effect on creativity; "I
am in favor of all that makes for diversity, variety, the reciprocity
of individual units", he declared, anticipating the ills of standardization.
The references to Herbert Read in Peter
Fuller's writings are scant and for the most part begrudging. For instance, in a survey he wrote on
the visual arts in post-war Britain,
Fuller is keen to debunk the idea that the 1930s
were the watershed years for British modernism, the 1940s 'a dark
decade' (the words of Alan Bowness) arguing instead that the much
vaunted 1930s were a confusion and a mess, while in contrast the 1940s
saw the evanescence of neo-romanticism. He quotes Read's famous comparison of
himself to 'a circus rider with his feet planted astride two horses,'
for his having championed two warring parties, the pure abstract camp
and the surrealists, in order to illustrate the confusions of the
1930s. But Read's statement, far from making
him look ridiculous, has to be qualified in relation to his view on
the classical-romantic opposition, which lies at the heart of his
tried to argue, and I still believe, that such dialectical oppositions
are good for the progress of art and that the greatest artists (I
always had Henry Moore in mind) are great precisely because they can
resolve such oppositions. If
I contradicted myself then I embraced my contradictions.
But Fuller leaves the quotation (and Read)
high and dry.
In contrast, Fuller's enthusiasm for Kenneth
Clark was passionate. There
was a natural identification on the part of Fuller with Clark, with
his warm, generous attitude to the art that moved him, his notion
of 'taste' which was in so English a way at once patrician and democratic,
and his courage in standing against the avant gardism of his time. Clark was the patron and champion of
the 'neo-romantics'; he introduced the new Australian landscape painters
(cherished by Fuller) to the London scene; he wore his Ruskin on his
sleeve. But I wish to
argue that Fuller's agenda and contribution is far more an extension
of the work of Read than Clark.
We need to cut across the seeming chasm between Read and Fuller,
between Read's generosity towards new art, and his willingness to
make accommodations, and Fuller's robust skepticism, his crusades
against trendiness and philistinism. I will identify and explore certain
areas common to Read and Fuller which bridge the historical and intellectual
divides between them. These
areas include psychoanalysis, biology, and ecology, with an emphasis
on the first, although all of them come to a head in the two critics'
respective approaches to Henry Moore, which I am going to examine
in some detail. (Thus the awful pun of my title!)
I would like to contend that Read's diehard modernism and Fuller's
maverick traditionalism were means rather than ends, strategies rather
than real purposes. Their common purpose was to argue a
redemptive mission for art in an industrial, materialist society,
the vital and necessary antidote to the soulless, destructive, and
debilitating effects of modernity.
In the manner of Ruskin, they are critics with a total view. Clark, for all his genuine appreciation of Ruskin and revival
of his works was not Ruskinian in his central purpose.
Actually, strategy, rather than purpose,
lies at the heart of Fuller's affection for Clark. Fuller's mentor in the 1970s had been John Berger, whose
TV series 'Ways of Seeing' formed a critique of Clark's series, 'Civilization.'
Berger disingenuously vilified Clark for failing to notice
that Gainsborough's Mr. and Mrs. Andrews surveyed land filled with
starving tenants, whereas, on reading Clark's text first hand, Fuller
discovered that Clark had made precisely this point.
Fuller's rehabilitation of Clark was a gesture of defiance
against Berger and a characteristic act of naughtiness on the part
of a Marxist whose critical subject up to that point had been a critique
of the art establishment personified by Clark.
Clark became Fuller's vehicle for a calculatedly polemical
insistence on connoisseurship and taste.
There is a mutual ambivalence on the part
of Fuller and Read towards formalism. Both were, in their times and for distinctive reasons, opposed
to the reduction of art criticism to questions of form, but both equally
resisted alternative reductivisms which sought to exclude the formal
dimension from art. Herbert
Read, in his theoretical writings of the 1930s, attempted to distance
himself from the 'pure' formalism of Bloomsbury, which found its most
extreme expression in Clive Bell's doctrine, 'significant form', but
he was keen not to throw out the baby with the bathwater, to capitalize
on Bloomsbury's polemical distinction of the intrinsic value of the
visual, as opposed to the literary arts.
Solomon Fishman has characterized Read's aim as 'to define
the plastic or purely formal elements as symbolic or expressive, to
maintain the notion of the formal integrity without at the same time
insisting on an absolute aesthetic autonomy.'
Gestalt theory offered a temporary meeting
of 'significant form' and psychological content. Gradually, psychoanalysis, analytical
psychology, and even phenomenology, expanded Read's conception of
form in such a way as to preserve the visual, affective element, while
linking it to things of profound, universal, import.
Injections of Jung's concept of archetypes and Cassirer’s
'symbolic forms' acted as antibodies against 'art for art's sake'
while thriving nonetheless in the blood stream of formalist criticism.
Fuller was sensitive to the subtlety and
intelligence of Fry's criticism; the formalism against which he campaigned
was the later model of Clement Greenberg and his followers. His antipathy towards formalism was
gradually tempered as he came to identify greater evils in pop art
and conceptualism, which he designated as 'anaesthetic' and conniving
with materialism. At
first, Fuller dealt with formalism and conceptualism as an allied
problem, that out of the reduction of one came the banality of the
other. The point is well illustrated in relation to sculpture.
He associated the work of Anthony Caro, a protégé of Greenberg,
with decadent values because he eliminated the body from his work,
and allowed his materials to reflect the banal and the mechanical
rather than transcend them. Caro's formalism,
nothing if not of its time: it reflected the superficial, synthetic,
urban, commercial, American values which dominated the 1960s. Caro declared that sculpture could be
anything; but his rebellious pupils took him more literally than he
By the late 1970s, texts, performances,
photography, even walking holidays, were being presented as sculpture.
Gilbert and George, Caro's pupils, even endeavored to claim
that the whole of their tacky lives were sculptures.
A resistance to reductivism and an insistence
on the 'total view' also informed the political perspectives of Read
and Fuller. Both were
committed at certain points in their careers to radical politics. Read identified with the anarchist cause,
but he respected certain marxists who allowed room in their theories
for causes other than market economy such as Lukács, and Raphael. Fuller was a trenchant marxist in the
1970s, and started, as I have mentioned, as a close disciple of John
Berger. By the end of the decade, though, he
was quoting Marcuse in a way that signaled his break with a restrictive,
market view of art: 'the truth of art lies in its power to break the
monopoly of established reality (i.e. of those who established it)
to define what is real...The autonomy of art contains the categorical
imperative: "things must change"'.
Before Fuller abandoned a left position
altogether, he discovered in Sebastiano Timpanaro the best reconciliation
of marxism and 'the continuity of human life and culture.'
One thing that Read and Fuller certainly
share is a rejection of the notion of progress in art, and a concomitant
avowal of transcendental universalism.
While Read, in his lecture 'Art and the Evolution of Man',
(1951) argued that there are constant factors between the Upper Paleolithic
cave paintings of 40,000 years ago and Picasso, the aesthetic value
of the former never having been surpassed, Fuller, in his1981 lecture,
'Art & Biology', declared:
I have come to realize that the natural sciences - especially the
biological sciences - have a great deal to teach us about art, and
that the sociological traditions have ignored biology at their peril. For example, a few years ago I was asked to contribute to
one of those interminable conferences 'Art Politics and Ideology'
which were so typical of the late 1970s.
In the course of a heated exchange with a prominent post-structuralist
art historian, I found myself saying to her, 'Well then, how do we
know the Laocoon is in pain?'
To which she replied, 'We know the Laocoon is in pain because
we have studied the modes of production prevailing in Greece at the
time it was made, and the signifying practices to which it gave rise.' To which I replied, 'But Griselda
he's being strangled by a sea monster.'
'Yes,' she retorted, 'but we have no means of knowing whether
or not he's enjoying it...'
And she was not joking.
Both Read and Fuller placed a very strong
emphasis on biology, not just because it provides a continuity that
underwrites art history, but, on a profounder level, it provided them
with something to believe in.
Read shared his generation's awe of Wentworth D'Arcy Thompson's
book, 'On Growth and Form', which contends that certain mathematical
formulae are at root common to entirely different species of plants
and animals, a view of life that clearly permeates Henry Moore's synthesizing
of all aspects of nature in his reclining figures and mother-child
groups. Read went on to form a close association with the physicist,
L.L. Whyte, who maintained that 'nature is essentially formative',
that one single 'unitary principle' or 'ordering tendency' is manifested
in physics, biology and psychology.
In a private letter Read offered an illuminating insight into
his intellectual character.
He has been struggling with the latest Heidegger, and wonders,
'Maybe it’s all too complicated for human understanding, but
like Lance Whyte I have a feeling there is a simple key.'
Meanwhile, Fuller's revealing analysis of Ruskin and nineteenth
needs to be placed within the context of his unbounded
excitement at the aesthetic implication of Benoit B. Mandelbrot's
geometry of fractals, the simple formulas which combine and recombine
in computer generated images to afford patterns of 'self-similarity',
or shapes and forms reminiscent of actual organic growths.
Mandelbrot's discoveries can equally sustain a theory of chaos
or a theory of order, (or to put in other words, symbolic order or
real presence). Fuller did not live to resolve this
issue for himself. Read
and Fuller constantly ask questions of a religious nature, though
both remained resolute in their conviction of the death of god. The barely suppressed religious impulse lends existential
urgency to the work of both critics.
So, biology and psychoanalysis are two
areas of shared interest. I
want to explore these areas as they relate to the critics' work on Henry Moore, whose crucial importance
to them is another common factor.
It is not surprising that Moore's art appeals to critics with
a psychological bent. His
sculpture is dominated by two themes 'pregnant' with psychological
significance: the reclining female figure and the mother-child relationship. By his own confession, it was the latter
theme that 'obsessed' him. Furthermore,
his style draws on a whole range of imagery in a way that is calculated
to imbue his work with 'universal' appeal - he draws from primitive
art, prehistory, geology, organic shapes, as well as the masterpieces
of the western tradition. His
working methods deliberately involve unconscious processes.
Herbert Read's preoccupation with psychoanalysis
began early in his career, in 1925, when he published an essay entitled
'Psychoanalysis and The Critic' in T.S. Eliot's journal, 'The Criterion'
. Here, Read's pluralism
manifests itself in the equal attention given to Adler, Freud and
Jung. He was converted to the Jungian perspective
while researching 'Education Through Art' in the early 1940s, when
he experienced an epiphany upon seeing a little girl's depiction of
'a snake wrapped around a boat and the world' (the child's words)
which he 'recognised' as a mandala, a symbol of cosmic unity. If Fuller's attitude towards Read were
more generous, and he felt able to consider him as a creative participating
member of the 'neo-romantic' movement of the 1940s, I wonder if he
would not approach Read's conversion to the Jungian cause at the time
of war as part of the spiritual reawakening of artists at that time. After the War, Read was appointed editor in chief of the
Bollingen translation of Jung's collected writings, apparently at
the psychologist's insistence, and became a vociferous champion of
Jung in cultural and lay circles.
The most persistent and fundamental idea
running through the writings of Herbert Read is the dialectical opposition
of the classical and romantic.
It is not difficult to trace sources for this polarity in his
early reading and influences: Nietzsche; T.E. Hulme, whose papers
Read edited; and Willhelm Worringer, whose empathy versus abstraction
theory articulates the same dichotomy. As early as 'The Criterion' essay, Read
uses Jung's notion of personality types (introverted, extraverted,
etc) to understand this central preoccupation. He approvingly quotes André Gide, that the conflict between
classicism and romanticism 'existe aussi bien a l'intérieur de chaque
esprit.' Like the psychoanalyst,
Read declared, the critic must be scientific and stand above the conflict,
even if his own nature inclines him towards one school or another,
must see the romantic and classic elements in literature as the natural
expression of a biological opposition in human nature...criticism
must finally ...resort to some criterion above the individual.
This is why the reconciliation of opposites
was considered by Read an essential attribute of a great artist like
Moore or Picasso. When
he more fully embraced the Jungian position, this act of reconciliation
assumed a cosmic, universal, humanitarian, indeed apocalyptical aspect. He shared the conviction of Erich Neumann,
(Jungian psychologist and author of The Archetypal World of Henry
Moore) that Moore was 'dedicated to an archetype that is only
just looming up on the conscious horizon of our age'; that he is an
artist-seer type, who draws not just on personal experience or suppressed
desires, but on the deeper, collective unconscious.
Such an artist become the vehicle for archetypal forces which
surface when psychic aspects are submerged in a given age. In modern, technological, industrial society, it is the feminine
aspect which is submerged, and which demands expression.
Following Worringer's differentiation between
abstraction and empathy, where abstraction, (schemata, geometry) is
the product of cultures threatened by nature, and empathy has to do
with dynamic contact, or harmony, with nature, Read associates vitalism
'with many types of tribal art, wherever magical rites are associated
with human or animal life, vitality rather than beauty is the dominant
aesthetic quality. Vitality
as an aesthetic factor has appeared in all its uncompromising power
in modern art,'
which Read proves with a quote from Henry Moore:
... is not the aim in my sculpture...For me a work of art must first
have in it a pent up energy, an intense life of its own, independent
of the object it may represent.
When a work has this powerful vitality we do not connect the
word beauty with it.
In an essay on the Mother and Child theme
in Moore, published by UNESCO, Read adapts (somewhat crudely) Freud's
life and death instincts to the abstraction-empathy polarity. Freud's formulation has been much criticized,
he says, but
to me fully supported by the history of art, which divides itself
into two such general and contrasted styles, the one endeavoring to
represent life, largely through its idealization of the human body,
as a spiritual existence of sensuous joy, the other endeavoring to
penetrate to the reality, which is not joy but conflict, not enjoyment
but tragedy. But in both styles the function of art is redemptive or reconciliatory;
in the one case offering the passive delight of ideal forms, in the
other case offering a tragic paradox that can be clarified and sustained
but never resolved in the tension of conflicting forms.
Peter Fuller's involvement with psychoanalysis
dates from the outset of his career. He studied psychology at Cambridge, and his first two books
were on the psychology of gambling and sport respectively. Unlike Herbert Read, Fuller underwent
analysis himself. Art
and Psychoanalysis (1980) the work for which he is most widely
respected, works through various thinkers: Freud, in a paper entitled
'Moses, mechanism and Michelangelo'; Melanie Klein, in relation to
the Venus de Milo and reparation; Marion Milner; and finally, Winnicott
and Bion, in a moving paper on American abstract expressionism.
In his psychoanalytic research, as in his art criticism, there
is a distinctly patriotic interest in the British tradition. (As, indeed, his antipathy to Lacan
relates to a fear of international fashions.)
Fuller's most illuminating application
of psychoanalysis was in his work on Henry Moore using the theories
of D.W. Winnicott. Winnicott once declared, 'There is no
such thing as a baby ... if you show me a baby you certainly show
me also someone caring for the baby ... One sees a 'nursing couple'.
His conception of the unity of mother and child was not merely
social, (from the perspective of the third party)
but also psychic - from the perspective of the child.
Between the state where the baby's conception is purely subjective
and the state where he realizes the autonomy of his 'objects' - the
people surrounding him, the activities of feeding etc - Winnicott
posits the theory of a transitional phase, 'a condition which could
be described at one and the same time as of absolute independence
and absolute dependence' The transitional phase constitutes what
Winnicott calls 'potential space' which the child seeks to avoid separation
from the mother 'by filling with creative playing.' Fuller posits an affinity between Winnicott's
and Moore's conception of the unity of the mother and child. 'Moore outraged taste in 1931', Fuller
in a fully sculptural way he ... was moving away from the naturalistic
spectacle of an infant suckling at the breast - as offered by so many
19th century salon sculptors - towards work which had greater continuity
with the 'subjective objects' of the potential space.
The crucial connection between Winnicott's
notion of 'potential space' and Moore's artistic practice lies in
the doctrine of 'truth to materials.'
Moore's celebration of the 'stoniness' of his carvings and
his liberation of the image contained within it ties in with the metaphor
of the Eucharist adopted by Winnicott to describe the paradox of the
transitional phenomenon. By
extension, Fuller argues, the material thus transformed is a transitional
object. Moore realized later in his career that
the doctrine of 'truth to material' could be taken too far. He insisted on it in the 1930s when
sculpture was almost entirely representational and decorative, but
(according to Fuller):
this was taken too far sculpture could - and in the hands of others
did - become dominated by the material to such a degree that the image
disappeared altogether and the transitional paradox on which good
sculpture depended was again lost.
The artist must offer a 'moment of illusion' which cannot be
challenged, within which a block of stone is at once both a real and
unmistakable block of stone - and simultaneously, a mother with her
child, or a couple locked in a kiss: that is sculpture.
And this is the crux of Peter Fuller's
interpretation of Henry Moore.
While Read, naturally, being Moore's contemporary and in a
sense collaborator, contrasts Moore's achievements with what immediately
precedes him, Fuller contrasts him with what follows: in his view,
banality, materialism, 'the pornography of despair', wasted opportunities. Moore stands out, not as an innovative
modernist, but as a reactionary, in what Fuller took to be the positive
sense of the word.
work represents a triumphant affirmation of humanist spirituality
at a time when such values are widely threatened and challenged.
Sculpture - which Fuller defines exclusively
in terms of carving and modeling - 'is probably the oldest and certainly the most deeply and
inherently conservative of all the arts.' Michelangelo refused the 'new technology' of the drill and
carved by hand; Moore abandoned the pointing up devices and carved
by hand too. Fuller somewhat
audaciously compares the shock caused by the pioneers of modernist
sculpture in Britain when they adopted 'primitive' influences with
the Pre-Raphaelite revival of the Italian 'primitives.'
Epstein and Moore's ' "primitivism" proved so shocking
to men and women who were beginning to invest their faith in "speed
and the roar of machines" ' (Pevsner); the Pre-Raphaelites 'showed
that the advances of modern civilization had also involved men and
women in spiritual and aesthetic loss.'
Fuller's identification of Moore with the
'neo-romantics' becomes important in this perspective:
movement was characterized by a desire to re-affirm a sense of the
British landscape, and tradition, at a time when these things were
under threat. But it was not simply nostalgic or escapist:
on the contrary, [they] were compelled by the war to elaborate a new
vision of nature, injured, and ravaged by man's activity, and yet
still capable of nurturing and sustaining.
best British art appears to possess the capacity to speak more eloquently
to the ecological and environmental concerns of a 'postmodern', 'postindustrial'
age than ever it could to the mechanical utopianism of 'progressive'
According to Winnicott, the earliest 'split'
that the infant devises in his conception of mother is between the
'object' mother, the object that is of his instinctual needs and desires,
and the 'environment' mother, 'whose holding, sustaining and providing
constitute the ground of what Winnicott called the infant's "going
on being" before he become a separate and independent person.'
Fuller relates these poles of infantile
experience with 'the two extremes of adult aesthetic experience: the
beautiful and the sublime. Sculpture
is most usually to do with the beautiful, but in the case of Moore,
where there is such an imaginative engagement with nature, the intimations
are of the sublime. Of
the 1964 elmwood Reclining Figure, Fuller says, 'She is at once a
woman, landscape, and cathedral.'
Sublime art, like Moore's, intimates the annihilation of the
self, the threat, even, to the sustaining environment, but 'brings
about a new sense of equilibrium, through form.'
do not think it is fanciful to suggest that Moore's reclining figures
present us with an aesthetic of ecological harmony which can be compared
to that of the great medieval cathedrals.
The compatibility of Read's idealist-vitalist
duality and Fuller's citation of Burke's beautiful and sublime opposition
is striking, but there is a major difference between Read and Fuller
which emerges at this stage.
Read accommodates all oppositions. He has an equal love of Gabo, who represents the ideal, abstract,
beautiful aspect, and Moore, who epitomizes the vitalist, empathetic,
sublime aspect: both, remember, are in their separate ways reconciliatory.
But Fuller's outlook is more Manichean: he is straight on the
warpath. For him, it is Moore versus the new
sculptors, Moore versus Caro, Moore versus materialism. Moore offers 'an uncompromising indictment
of the concerns of our century.' His Northampton Madonna of 1944 is to be compared with Francis
Bacon's Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion of
the same year. (Later, in Modern Painters, the magazine he
founded and edited, Fuller would make such a comparison between Sutherland
and Bacon, the moral point being the same.)
are compelled to choose between these two antithetical visions of
ourselves. We must decide
whether, in a world apparently deserted by God, we prefer to see our
fellow human beings as sacks of mutilated, spasm-ridden muscle; or
as creature still capable of composure, dignity, and profound spiritual
Fuller and Read are united in their Ruskinian
analysis, but divided in the extent of their willingness to embark
on Ruskinian solutions. According
to Read, Industrialism has divorced millions of people from handicraft,
the counterbalance to abstract, conceptual thought. The language of non-vocal signs is 'thoughtlessly
jettisoned by modern society, to be salvaged, of course, by the ad-men,
who are well aware of the "subliminal" appeal of visual
Modern art is a protest at this.
Its shrillness 'is due to its sense of dereliction. It no longer belongs to the people... The artist has to adopt
shock-tactics in an attempt to reawaken the visual responses of an
apathetic public' who must be reeducated to 'conceive the world symbolically
and create artistic form.'
This way, they will 'correct the bias of an exclusively linguistic
mode of thought, and, what is equally important, correct the bias
of a mechanized mode of life.'
For Fuller, who was obsessed by the
idea that the only shared symbolic order of our times is that of the
ad-men - the banality of the mega-visual - shock tactics are irrelevant,
as they too have been appropriated by the ad-men.
The best art will reflect a nostalgia for shared symbolic orders,
the 'consolations of lost illusions'.
no 7 1935
see Boris Ford Cambridge
Guide to the Arts in Britain Vol 9 Since the Second World War
(Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1988)
Solomon Fishman The Interpretation of Art (University
of California Press, Berkeley, 1963)
Ford, op cit
Peter Fuller 'Modern Sculpture, a contradiction in terms',
in Sculpture Today (Art and Design, London, Vol 3, no
Herbert Marcuse One Dimensional Man (1964) quoted
from Peter Fuller's 1980 lecture, 'Where was the art of the seventies'
in Beyond the Crisis in Art (Writers and Readers, London, 1980)
Griselda Pollock, a lecturer at Leeds University and a prominent
'new' art historian.
Peter Fuller The Naked Artist (Writers and Readers,
see Peter Fuller Theoria (Chatto and Windus, London,
Herbert Read Icon and Idea (Faber and Faber, London,
Moore statement in Herbert Read [ed] Unit One (Cassell, London, 1934)
Herbert Read Henry Moore, Mother and Child (Mentor-UNESCO, New York, 1966) reprinted as 'Henry Moore, the reconciling
archetype', in Herbert Read
Art and Alienation (Thames and Hudson, London, 1967)
Peter Fuller 'Mother and Child in Henry Moore and Winnicott'
in Winnicott Studies no2 (Squiggle Foundation, London, 1987)
Peter Fuller The Spirituality of Henry Moore (unpublished
Ford, op cit
Winnicott Studies op cit
Peter Fuller 'Henry Moore, an English Romantic' in Susan
Compton [ed] Henry Moore (Royal Academy of Arts, London, 1988)
Ford, op cit
Herbert Read The Forms of Things Unknown (Faber and
Faber, London, 1960)
This is the subtitle of Fuller's Images of God (1985)