Facing
Napoleon: The Skin of Painting
Hans Belting
and David Moos
HB: We are looking at one of a series of big, painted faces
of Napoleon. This is a striking subject, but also a striking painting.
What is your first impression of this very extraordinary group of
work?
DM: My first
impression has to do with the consistent composition, the frontality
and then the axis of the face seen in different lights. The faces
are in each case seen close up, almost as though through the lens
of a camera, rather than via the normal optics of the eye. The
titles immediately signal that this is Napoleon. Perhaps, if we're
well versed in history or the history of art, we might even recognise
this man. But I think my first impression is of an uncanny closeness
to this consistently reiterated face.
HB: We are
also invading an intimate space if we think about the fact that
the subject, Napoleon, had no knowledge of photography and could
only look at himself in the mirror. In this case, we are invading
or intruding upon a kind of personal space in which Napoleon looks
at himself. At the same time, the painting is facing us with the
great story that it brings with it.
DM: Exactly.
The paintings open with the metaphor of shaving, the first shave
of the young, aspiring military man looking into the mirror. He
is at once looking through himself and to his future in the depthless,
supremely shallow space of the mirror that I think also sets up
the paintings.
HB: The
act of shaving is an interesting topic because it contains the
idea that he is making his face into a mask. He is working at
his face, and putting on a layer of white cream which will have
to be removed to expose his pure skin. He is not only preparing
his skin, his eyes reveal that he is preparing for something else.
He is preparing to act.
DM: He is
preparing his destiny. And it is the gesture of shaving that becomes
analogous to the movement of the painter's hand, the painter's
gestures. If one looks at the Elba painting and notes that the
shaving cream is both applied to the face and has also been splashed
and splattered on the mirror, this can be interpreted as a desperate
gesture-if one wants to read deeply into the subject-a paradigm
for events beginning to spin beyond the control of the protagonist.
It is also apparent that
the act of shaving constitutes a moment of intimacy. One begins
the day by looking into the mirror and that is where one contemplates
who one is. But can one see oneself in the mirror? In that private
moment, shaving becomes an ultra-intimate and introspective moment.
So that invests the proximity with another connotation. Here we
stand as viewers in the character's most private space, involved
with the gaze which he is endeavouring to fix on himself. Consequently,
as bystanders, we are inevitably caught both within and outside
this gaze.
HB: There
is an intriguing contradiction in the metaphor of the mirror because
the subject as we see it painted might have looked in a mirror.
But in this case, we, as spectators, are aware of a mirror which
is not directed at Napoleon, but rather by Napoleon at us. And
so his sombre expression, which reflects both his own experiences
and his supremely ambitious aspirations, acquires a kind of rhetoric-a
public rhetoric which we cannot avoid experiencing.
The faces are in a way
like stills from a movie, but we don't see any movie. We just
have the stills. Obviously, each of these pieces has, on the one
hand, a story of its own, and, on the other, a story of what happens
at a particular stage in a life. But there is also the interconnection
between paintings which tell a monumental story of someone who
is both a person of flesh and blood, and a super icon from history,
a monumental figure (which contradicts his individuality). So
the painting is full of contradictions and associations which
we must look at. The biggest contradiction of all is that we are
experiencing a view of Napoleon and facing him in a way which
in reality we neither can nor could have experienced. So this
painting suggests to us a kind of life of this face which is actually
impossible for several reasons, yet which still works.
DM: That
is certainly the core of the matter in terms of the reference
to Napoleon. The name of the man, and actually the culture of
Napoleon that has grown up around that name, ignite a vast chain
of significance. One has a great analogous register of events
to conjure with and refer to. One has this sort of far arc where
these paintings focus on the earnestness of the expression and
almost seem to identify, for a moment perhaps, with Napoleon-he
is now no longer shaving and seeing himself in the mirror, but,
rather embarking on a crusade, entering into battle, having a
great moment of strategising or reflecting upon the state of the
empire that he is building.
I think that through these
multiple visages, and led by the titles, one begins willingly,
or almost against one's will, to make associations and to start
writing in one's own mind the stories of Napoleon that we're familiar
with. I also think that there is another element worth noting
about the mirror aspect. As the paintings move through the life
of Napoleon, there is a spatial fluctuation. The face moves to
the side, and the mirror becomes more like a screen. In terms
of those surfaces, one starts to ask what the difference is between
mirror and screen? And while one may begin by looking head-on,
centrally, at the young Napoleon, as one moves through his life
it is as though there's a slippage as the movement of Napoleon's
narrative pulls the man off centre. As he grows, there arises
this darkened space, which is possibly the repository of his accomplishments,
but it is also the space for our investment. It's like the dark
space of the screen: it is absolutely empty because of its darkness,
but it is at the same time full of our stories of Napoleon. That's
how I think this narrative gains a certain momentum as it progresses-a
formal and imaginary narrative.
HB: You
rightly stress the increasing zone of darkness which seems to
be space, and for me it is here that the painter opens up the
riddle of face and surface. In addition to this, the depth of
this dark space also corresponds to the body, to the relief of
the flesh on the face. But they are both neutralised. Both project
into the same surface, which in the painting is stressed by holes,
showing that there is nothing behind, just a void. In the end,
this strategic procedure presents us with the ambiguity of whether
we are looking at a painting or a face, whether we are looking
at the skin of a person or the skin of a canvas.
DM: This,
of course, raises questions about the function of painting. Does
painting produce a face or is painting a formal zone? Any discussion
of the mirror and the screen must relate to the encaustic technique,
to the way that the light is almost trapped within the surface
of these paintings and to the translucent highlights specific
to encaustic painting which are not so much applied as made apparent.
Additionally, in those compositions where the face is displaced,
because it's envisioned in an extreme foreground position, where
the face is cropped off, and where only one and a half eyes are
visible, it would seem that painting alone becomes paramount simply
as a zone in which to transact the gestures of painting. The sheer
scale of the work, as one moves closer, causes the image to break
apart completely. It breaks apart more obviously in some paintings
than others, but I think that where you have the loss of the image,
you also have an entry into what painting can do today. So far
we've only spoken of these works as representations of Napoleon.
We've discussed very little about the paintings that transact
what painting can represent and how it can overcome its subject
matter.
HB: This
is a very important point, that the image breaks away and becomes
free, thereby opening the experience of a huge surface which acts
on us by the play of light and the several strata or layers of
colour which become so strong that we also disconnect this from
the work and re-connect it with the painting. And this is a moment
where we may perhaps ask what exactly we do see. Do we see a face
or do we see a wonderful surface of painting? This is so contradictory
especially since the scale, as you mentioned, is very important
for losing the image and receiving an impression of a new vitality
of painting which while it is playing with the flesh of a face,
also justifies its vitality in terms of paintings and in terms
of technique.
  |
Bonaparte:
Toulon 19.12.1793
1995-97
encaustic/canvas, 183 x 183 cm
Private collection, Seattle.
|
 |
|
Bonaparte.
Toulon 19.12.1793
Napoleon sprang suddenly to prominence when he commanded the artillery
at the siege of Toulon, and retook the city that had been captured
by the British. A dazzling military career was launched.
  |
Bonaparte
Dreaming of Napoleon
1998-99
encaustic/canvas, 213 x 244 cm
|
 |
|
  |
Napoleon:
First Consul
1995-97
encaustic/canvas, 183 x 213 cm
Private collection, Vancouver. |
 |
|
  |
Napoleon:
circa 1810
1998
encaustic/canvas, 183 x 183 cm
Collection: Turner & Runyon Gallery, Dallas. |
 |
|
  |
Napoleon:
Russia 1812
1995-97
encaustic/canvas, 183 x 213 cm
Private collection, Vancouver. |
 |
|
Napoleon:
Russia 1812
An estimated one and a half million men were marched into Russia;
Moscow was reached, but retreat followed almost immediately with
catastrophic losses - of men, resources and prestige - for the hitherto
apparently invincible Emperor and military commander.
  |
Elba
1998-99
encaustic/canvas, 183 x 183 cm |
 |
|
  |
Napoleon's
Last Shave St. Helena
1995-97
encaustic/canvas, 152 x 152 cm
Collection: Leonard & Bina Ellen Art Gallery,
Concordia University, Montreal. |
 |
|
Napoleon's
Last Shave, St. Helena
After his defeat at Waterloo, Napoleon abdicated for a second time,
Paris was once again entered by the Allies, and the erstwhile Emperor
was forced, ignominiously, to surrender to the British. He was exiled
(this time for the rest of his life) to the remote island of St.
Helena.
