Paula Rego Exhibition: ‘The 80s’ at Casa das Histórias.
Exhibition extended until 23rd June 2019.
Visitors to ‘Casa das Histórias’ can see Paula Rego’s giant tapestry, ‘Battle of Alcacer-Quibir’ (1966) before entering the current exhibition; it is an enormous display of focussed creativity, intricate labour and precocious intelligence. However, its bizarre creatures, exposed nipples, asymmetry and peachy palette mean that it’s not a great surprise that it was rejected by the Algarve hotel owner who commissioned a tapestry from Rego. I wonder how long it took for him to kick himself.
As I’m sat looking at it a group of Portuguese women –presumably the mothers of the little children doing a printing workshop in the adjoining room — begin to get closer and closer and in a moment when time slowed down they are running their hands over the stitches. The assistants behind the reception desk have frozen. Eventually, someone shouts ‘Não!’ and the women step back and the scene fizzles out. Shortly afterwards I hold my breath as the little children, hands covered in blue ink, walk in file (chaperoned) past the tapestry towards the bathrooms. I suspect that Paula Rego would have loved all this drama had she been sat in my spot.
Paula Rego was born to a middle class family in Lisbon, Portugal in 1935. Portugal was ruled by the fascist dictator Salazar between 1933 and 1974. Her liberal father stated that Portugal was no place for a woman and Rego attended the Slade School of Art in London when she was 17 years old. It was there she met Vic Willing who was several years older and married to a ballerina. To understand the complexities of their relationship watch the 2017 documentary ‘Stories and Secrets’ made by her son, Nick Willing.
In the film Rego reveals some of the events in her life that influenced her artistic career. Most relevant to the current exhibition on ‘The 80s’ Vic, Paula and their three young children had moved from Portugal to London in 1976 following a disastrous attempt by Vic to take on Paula’s father’s business that led to the loss of the grand family house in Estoril.
Prior to the 80’s Rego had already worked through several particular artistic phases: the paintings from her Slade years are figurative oil paintings often on the theme of life and tradition in Portugal; when she returned to Portugal in 1957 she made abstract political paintings and after Vic joined her in Portugal she continued with the political theme with painting and collage. The move to London and the decade of the 80s marks another distinctive shift in the style and themes of her work.
The current exhibition is ‘Anos 80s’ and the paintings are displayed in (more or less) chronological order. During this phase Rego was interested in Outsider Artists such as Dubuffet and Henry Darger. It’s important to hold in mind that Rego had been classically trained at the Slade and her ability to cast aside her training and pour her energy and feelings into raw, naïve art marks her flexibility and intelligence as an artist that many, if not most, classically trained artists would not be capable of.
Room 1:
‘Menina’ (1981). ‘Menina’ translates as ‘girl’ but I think it is a more complex word, or at least complex in a different way to ‘girl’. In Portugal people often refer to a grown woman as ‘menina’ as a way of being friendly; ‘menina’ also means maid. There is nothing girly or sweet about this menina; she has a scary/scared face; a big, red rubber ring; a red human torso and hairy animal legs with clawed toes, seemingly next to a sink or a very basic swimming pool. The red, black and white makes me think of Marina Abramovich’s story in the documentary ‘The Artist is Present’ (2012) of when her parents dressed her as a devil for a children’s party.
Rego was reading Borges’ ‘The Book of Imaginary Beings’ (1957) when she painted ‘Catoblepas’ (1981). The painting is in reference to a creature that, ‘if it were to lift its eyelids you would die on the spot.’ It’s grey, piggy head is a different colour to its saggy, ochre body and its back right leg is missing but its substantial genitals are intact. Is that blood and milk on the ground?
‘Red Creature’ (1981) is disgusting; a disembodied head sucks red creature’s tail whose own head is like a floppy worm, continuing the theme of disembodiment. ‘Merman’ (1981) is a dog’s head, human torso and conjoined fishtails in yellow except for the grey, left arm fingering its own arsehole. The switch in colours indicates that, this time, it is the disgusting arm that is disowned or even dead.
‘Tarzana’ (1981) seems to be a woman; possibly masturbating on a big, green stalk whilst burying her face in the giant leaves. She’s the only one in the room to have a solid background and she has company too, some ghostly, mushroomy, spermy little characters watching her.
In sum, the paintings in Room 1 are disturbing and disgusting, they share the themes of disembodiment; of the disgusting aspects of the body; the lines between humans and beasts. Aside from ‘Tarzana’ they are solo and floating in space. When she made these paintings in 1981 Rego was a mother to three children and had moved from Portugal to London a few years earlier and was struggling for money, partly her husband’s fault. Perhaps the paintings reveal something of her conflicts about her body and about being a mother as well as a sense of being geographically disturbed. Rego had studied at the Slade in the fifties but London would have felt a very different place in the seventies with no money and, no doubt, angry feelings towards Vic. The paintings in Room 1 mark a very disturbing start to Rego’s work in the 1980’s.
Room 2:
‘Os Músicos: Gato e porquinho-da-índia’ (1981) (270cm x 205 cm). A sinister looking, bipedal cat plays a flute behind a terrified looking bipedal guinea pig who holds a fiddle. The cat has red on his fingers, is his foot bleeding? Guinea pig has red/blood under his foot. The cat’s tail looks more like a tiger’s tail. The painting makes me think of the bipedal animals in George Orwell’s book, ‘Animal Farm’. Underneath the cat’s grounded foot is a circle that is the colour of shit. And the red on the cat’s belly suggests that he’s been scratched. The painting seems ripe with idioms: playing second fiddle; playing to someone’s tune; the show must go on. Does the guinea pig represent Paula and the cat represent Vic?
‘O Macaco Vermelho bate na mulher’ (1981), ‘Red monkey beats his wife’. In Portuguese ‘mulher’ means ‘woman’ as well as ‘wife’. It doesn’t translate well into English where it is crude to interchange ‘wife’ and ‘woman’. In the documentary film (2017) Rego discloses that the idea for ‘Macaco Vermelho’ came from Vic’s childhood puppet show and that the characters came to represent the two of them and her lover (some might say sugar daddy), Rudy as a bear. It is one of her most famous paintings and it’s almost impossible to explain why it’s such a powerful image. Maybe it’s something to do with the furious energy of ‘macaco vermelho’: fists clenched, tail and quiff erect and that horrible skull face balanced by the passivity of the woman and the ‘bear’ (bearskin hat) and the floppiness of the poor baby whilst also revealing red monkey’s tiny genitals.
In ‘Urso, mulher e filho do urso brincam com macaco vermelho’ (1981) Rego starts using different blocks of colour in the background in a way that indicates separation or unity between the relevant characters. Here, bear (Rudy?) and woman (Rego?) are unified by a green background and looking back at bear’s son (a massive baby in socks) and (tiny, crucified?) red monkey (Vic?) on a yellow background. The shape at the top of the painting is ambiguous: is it clouds and lightning bolts or an upper set of teeth? It looks ominous whatever it is.
And what of the three lightbulbs? I wonder if this is connected to the Portuguese phrase ‘dar luz’ (to give light) which means to give birth. There are three lightbulbs and Rego has three children. These paintings are about family drama and make me think about psychotherapist Stephen Karpman’s (1968) ‘Drama Triangles’ of victim, oppressor and rescuer and how we move between positions during interpersonal conflict.
In ‘The debt’ (1981) red monkey’s (human?) face is mostly obscured by an ambiguous red and pink thing: it could be a wing or it could be a vagina or it could be blood or at least fleshy. A green creature in a green skirt covers her face in shame in the background. The paunchy, naked white man with big black shoes and a painted over face holds a note in one hand and his other fist is clenched. He looks pissed off. Red monkey is in a more submissive posture than previously and his eye turns away. In the documentary Paula Rego candidly describes how Rudy gave her financial support in London but this painting indicates that maybe she felt ashamed by this arrangement at the time.
In ‘O macaco prepares to cut off blue dog’s head’ (1981) blue dog is on a different horizon to monkey and the woman, which makes him about three times their size, but his eyes are glazed over and his arms are behind his back making him appear as though he’s already dead. Monkey is cuter and silly whilst holding an axe, whilst the woman (painted with the colours of the Portuguese flag) rubs her hands with a sinister smile and a sly glance. The characters have changed their positions in the triangle again and now the woman (Paula?) is the baddy. Did this painting coincide with an ending in her relationship with Rudy?
In another version of the same theme everything is minimised: blue dog is smaller and not as spaced out; monkey is slightly less cheerful and woman is smirking rather than sneering: a more palatable version of events perhaps?
On the other side of Room 2 we move from the love triangle to more complex compositions with more elaborate, ambiguous themes. In ‘Romeo and Juliet’ (1984) Romeo has a tomato for a head whereas it is ambiguous as to what Juliet’s head is. The scene is filled by smaller animal and vegetable characters and some kind of tube hangs from Romeo’s crotch. Juliet’s right hand is bandaged (pink); it’s a very sorry scene with Juliet as a pathetic looking damsel in distress.
In ‘The Lovers’ (1982) we return to a relational triangle; the pharaoh (?) on the left (wearing a dress?) appears to be having sex with the central figure; a dog that has a huge, thick tail like a kangaroo. The dog’s tongue is hanging out. In the documentary Rego talks about how she painted a woman with her tongue hanging out in ‘Dogs of Barcelona’ (1965) in reference to catching Vic snogging a young Italian woman). The pharaoh (?) on the right looks away whilst the dog licks his fingers.
Room 3
‘The Operas’ series is displayed in Room 3; as I’m not familiar with the context to these paintings I’m going to move onto the other paintings displayed in the same room, ‘The Vivian Girls’.
Rego explains that the ‘The Vivian Girls in Tunisia’ (1984) (250cms x 180cms) is about, ‘mothers devouring daughters and daughters devouring mothers’. In the 2017 documentary Rego says that her mother was cold and harsh and Rego’s own daughter talks about feeling like she had a ‘bit part’ in a play that was about her parents.
Rego’s paintings have, again, increased in size and complexity. There is so much happening in these paintings it is really worth taking the time to look at them for a while to see what emerges from the chaos. Although, again, the paintings appear naïve Rego is skilled at taking the eye on a journey and the more complex compositions provide more space for humour: Rego loves dirty jokes and innuendo. In The Vivian Girls we see Rego depict more active female sexuality with a girl lifting her skirt and another touching her crotch whilst a strawberry person is incapacitated on the ground. Again, there is something inexplicably powerful about this character with her African mask face and her spaghetti strap falling off her shoulder.
In ‘The Vivian girls on the Farm’ (1984–5) there is a horrible boy/spider with his willy out about to be penetrated by a white stick (a blind person’s stick?) of a big brown goat who is herself about to be penetrated by a human hand. There are insects, flamingos, frogs, fish and a tiger/cat in a hat (Dick Whittington’s cat?): this is no ordinary farm. The big white mouse in sunglasses might be a pimp.
Rego takes big strides from her solo characters in Room 1 to her relational triangles in Room 2 to relational chaos in Room 3 which perhaps reflects changes in her personal life from the initial loneliness of London to the intensity of having an affair to suddenly being engaged with the world, the art world, and all its madness. The Opera series was a commission and The Vivian Girls series was inspired by an exhibition of Henry Darger’s work and the explosion of characters in her paintings may reflect her re-engagement with the social scene in London.
Room 4
‘Homage to Dubuffet’ (1985): when I was looking at this painting something very strange happened. A group of French girls entered the room and started laughing hysterically, cruelly and uncontrollably at the painting. There was no indication as to why they were laughing, they were laughing too much to speak. I froze. I tried to formulate what I wanted to say to them but I knew that my wish to defend and protect Rego would have backfired. I just stayed rooted to the spot until they moved on. I wondered if they had taken LSD.
It made me realise that you can be as brilliant and as committed and as unique as Paula Rego (not to mention so successful that there is a gallery dedicated to you) and people will still laugh at your work and your ideas so just fucking do what you have to do.
I will be forever baffled as to why they laughed at the Dubuffet paintings: ‘Homage to Dubuffet’ is brilliant: full of style, energy and humour. There is a jack in the box, white crows, a show off man riding a dairy cow (no hands!) with its rear end pressed against a bendy yellow woman with missing teeth. Is it a disco or a circus?
In the ‘Tree of Dubuffet’ (1985) the dairy cow reappears, this time bending over backwards and having grown another pair of horns. The tree has a black and red trunk with big white leaves and smaller blue leaves. A girl is half hiding behind it. There is a harpy with a rat between her teeth and another harpy who is being attacked by a bird. A centaur appears to be shooting up (?). There is a tiger, some snakes, a leaping rat, a relaxed crow and a giant blue insect that looks as though its enjoying being on its back. It seems as though the top level of the painting (above the canopy) is all about the cruelty people inflict on one another; bullying and preying on others. Ironically, given the hysterical girls, maybe this painting may be specifically about women bullying other women. Beneath the canopy are the strategies for fending off cruelty: hiding, bending over backwards, being on our backs and medicating ourselves.
Room 5
The ‘In and Out of the Sea’ series was my personal favourite: three huge paintings in a small room with walls painted in a lavish blue. Aside from the aforementioned group of girls the gallery was calm and quiet and I was able to sit on the floor and enjoy these fantastic paintings in solitude.
It’s important to hold in mind the significance of the ocean to the Portuguese. Although the UK is surrounded by sea and this plays a major role in British history the British in general don’t continue to identify with the ocean in the way that the Portuguese do.
‘Drowned Bear’ (1985): a supine bear kicks standing bear in the crotch whilst a net is thrown over him. Does the bear still signify Rudy, if so, which one? There are pelicans, sting rays, mermaids, frogs and lobsters in a frenzied scene, possibly an orgy. Are there girls being pinned down by sea monsters? And what of this horrible grey sting ray type creature who appears to be enjoying the chaos?
It is really worth taking time to look at these paintings, especially ‘The Raft’ (1985), and the stories will emerge. The central figure is a girl sitting on a wooden raft with a bipedal fox/demon behind her. Did something happen to her neck? A bigger girl stands behind with a paddle or is it a rod or even the barrel of a gun? A huge, horrible sea snake is also aboard the raft, possibly about to attack a mermaid’s bum. A disgruntled little bear sails alongside the raft in a little triangular sailboat whilst another cheerful little bear appears to have fallen out of the boat. Both the raft and the sailboat are encroaching on a friendly looking sea dragon whose tongue is already touching the sitting girl’s leg. A blonde figure with a scarf on his face and wearing a blue coat also emerges from the sea. His green hands indicate he is trying to push them all back or at least try to stop them but he’s got no chance.
As ever the scene is complete chaos with a multitude of stories being told. It makes me think of Maria Callas in Pier Pasolini’s film, ‘Medea’ (1969) sitting on the raft after having murdered her own brother and betrayed her family for Jason and yet worse is still to come. It also makes me think of the story that Rego tells in the documentary of a cousin whose pregnant girlfriend washed up dead on the beach. The sea as a place of beauty, of cleansing but also a place to hide things, destroy things and a home for weird and dangerous creatures.
In ‘On the beach’ (1985) the central figure is a young girl. Is she taking off her dress or are her arms bound? Is that ginger cat giving licking her crotch? A giant ladybird nibbles her nipple and a smoking pelican looks on. The girl grimaces. In João César Monteiro’s film, ‘Á Comédia de Deus’ (1995) an old woman tells a cat to ‘go and lick your mother’s pussy’. The Portuguese old folk are famous for their craft with rude words.
Beyond the girl is a picnic that has been catastrophically disrupted. A guest of the picnic — a giant turtle- has fallen on his back into the water and it seems as though a black eyed rabbit (?)/ skinny panda (?) is about to strangle him. How do we know this turtle is male? He just is and the other turtle just is female. A yellow faced girl remains kneeling at the head of the picnic bench whilst frogs scurry beneath the picnic blanket towards her crotch and a phallic sea snake leaps towards her chest. There is wormy blood coming from the sea snake’s puncture wound.
At the top of the canvas a Matisse style woman continues cutting her lettuce whilst her body is a face made of fruit (cherries, papaya and a peach). To her right does the giant frog look scared or is he looking away as an orgy of a crab, a lobster and a giant snail heads towards him? Is he already bleeding from his bottom?
There is a mysterious woman in the top, left corner. She is covering her mouth with a towel, I think she is on the phone to someone. This painting could have been a cute story about two girls having a picnic with mummy and daddy turtle at the beach. But it isn’t. It’s about all hell breaking loose. It’s about being trapped on your back, being tied up, it’s about being taken advantage of whilst others turn a blind eye, or worse take pleasure from your misfortune. And it’s all being seen and gossiped about.
The seaside signifies holidays and fun and its disturbing when reality smashes that fantasy. Like when the bodies (dead or alive) of people fleeing Africa turn up on Mediterranean beaches. Or when sunbathers are massacred by fundamentalists. Paula Rego long saw the coastline as a battleground for our modern fantasies and our current realities.
Room 6
In the last room of the exhibition is the series entitled, ‘The Fables’ (1986) and the series entitled, ‘The Girl and the Dog’. Rego returns to painting on a relatively smaller canvas with fewer characters than in the previous series. In ‘The Fables’ paintings the mixture of animal and human characters teach and learn from each other but also have sex with each other ambiguously ‘On the balcony’ (1986) and unambiguously ‘History II’ (1986). Rego shows how the physical intimacy between teacher and student when painting, sewing and reading spills over into seduction and sexual intimacy. In these paintings Rego begins to dress her characters in more complex clothing, which she will go on to develop masterfully in the following decades.
In ‘History I’ a bipedal, bright green crocodile, with a sword, fights an unarmed, bleeding red bear in front of an audience that includes a haunted looking bear in a Hawaiian shirt sat between a seated lady in a short skirt and rabbit in old fashioned dress. Behind them is a howling brown dog and a gossiping yellow dog. In the foreground a creature leans over a blank scroll.
It is a pitiful scene of the red bear fighting a losing battle to the bitter end whilst others look on. The title of the painting ‘History II’ (a blindfolded dog having sex with a passive rabbit from behind) implies a link between the two paintings but there’s a chasm between the paintings and I wonder if the linking of the titles is one of Rego’s red herrings.
In the 2017 documentary Rego and her daughters talk about how the ‘Girl and the Dog’ series is about Vic’s degenerative disease and how nurses provided physical care for him. In ‘Girl lifting her skirt to the dog’ we see the style of painting that Rego would develop in the 1990s.
In the documentary, when Rego says that her daughters would rub themselves against Vic to try to enliven him, I think she might be projecting onto her daughters her own sexualisation of physical care. I suspect that Rego sees seduction everywhere she looks not least in the relationship between the exotic nurses and her dying, unfaithful husband.
And then…‘Acabou!’ The exhibition ends abruptly. I overheard someone else complaining to his wife the same thing. It feels as though you have spent hours behind the scenes in the theatre of Rego’s mind and then you’re spewed out like in the film ‘Being John Malkovich’. I guess it would be disingenuous to ease you back into the world gently and kindly. Rego, despite being born into a privileged family, has endured enormous hardships but does not shrink from the cruelty of life even though she is now a rich and successful woman.
Rego carries a torch for everyone who gets laughed at, who gets tricked, who gets betrayed. She paints her way through the roughness of life, getting her revenge and her laughs on the canvas. She shows us that intelligence means getting better with age.
References
http://www.casadashistoriaspaularego.com/en/
‘The Artist is Present’ (2012) documentary film on Marina Abramovic.
‘Being John Malkovich’ (1999)
Karpman, Stephen (1968) “Fairy tales and script drama analysis”. Transactional Analysis Bulletin. 26 (7): 39–43.
‘Medea’ (1969) by Pier Pasolini
‘Paula Rego: Stories and Secrets’ (2017) documentary film on Paula Rego