With a series of nightmarish polaroids, Lucas Samaras took the 1970s art world by storm. His ugly addiction to the deepest crevices of his own body became an unexpected sensation, fueled by the hazy allure of his distorted self-portraits and a series of distrurbingly glib interviews with himself. Maurice Sendak’s late partner, psychoanylist Dr. Eugene Glynn, described the artist thusly in a 1971 article:
Samaras, self-fascinated, scarcely notices society at all. He is very aware that he doesn’t like peeople. They are too warm, too pressing, too smelly. “The needs of other people” is what frightens him. He can’t think about females “in terms other than extreme anger;” he can’t think about males “in terms other than extreme anger.” He likes apricots, flowers, fireflies, he likes best to stay alone in his apartment “existing alongside my utensils, furniture, materials, surfaces, spaces with an erotic freshness.”
Samaras’ persona is a caricature of misanthropy. Through his works and interviews, he presents himself as a devilish trickster whose narcissism knows no bounds. The repulsive nature of Samaras’ character is only exceeded by the aching talent underlying his depravity. The fragile enigma of his intensely personal work almost illicits sympathy, or at least curiosity. Like Glynn, we’re tempted– beckoned– to analyze the artist and his work, poring through recurring motifs: glass, teeth, mirrors, cannibalism, materialism, the body, the place where individuals end and society begins.
Still active in the art world at 76, Samaras’ latest exhibit is currently on display at the Venice Biennale. Samaras has built a dominating sculpture of endlessly mirrored reflections, surrounded by dozens of video monitors. A series of close ups fill the screens– reaction shots of friends like Jasper Johns and Chuck Close being treated to footage of the artist getting naked in his studio. Awkward!
Subscribe to RSS
Brilliant, in every sense of the word.
His work is inspiringly honest.
I think we all have the same sense of curiosity in us as Samaras but are too afraid to explore, for fear of finding things out we’d rather not known.