ED
PASCHKE:
STRANO
To confound direct relationships
to their chosen objects of inspiration,
and to also perhaps elevate the
status of these objects in a classic Surrealist
gesture to disorient the viewer,
the Imagists adopted a labor-intensive,
amazingly meticulous technique.
The surfaces of Paschke’s works,
for example, are seamless, entirely
without evident gesture. What is most
important in Imagist work is,
as the movement’s name suggests, the image
which, because of its clarity
and the exquisite craftsmanship of its making,
demonstrates an aura of believability
and an almost sacred quality. The fact
that the subject is so fanciful
and idiosyncratic produces a curious
and challenging visual puzzle
...
Strano,
a 1997 oil on canvas painting by the Chicago artist Ed Paschke, is one
of the Brauer Museum’s most popular works, due not only to its bold, striking
colors, but also to its enigmatic subject that seems to arise from a dreamlike
electronic world. The disembodied, mask-like face in Strano
is surrounded by an array of puzzling images that, in their repetition,
form a patterned backdrop. The origin, nature, or precise symbolism
of these images is not immediately clear as these background elements were
most likely drawn from the artist’s individual experiences or even subconscious.
Those that are recognizable are placed in such an unusual new context that
their old meanings or associations are no longer entirely relevant.
While Strano is clearly portrait, due to the prominence of the central
face and the hand that
directs the viewer’s eye to that
face, it is not a portrait of a recognizable person (although Paschke’s
figural pieces do frequently originate from his initially faithful transcription
of a magazine or book reproduction, often depicting a celebrity or historical
figure). Rather, the stylized visage, placed in a field of graphic
signs or emblems, serves as a portrait of the artist himself. That
is, the viewer adds up the numerous visual clues in Strano and soon
realizes
that the painting is a summary on
a small scale of the artist’s central themes and concerns.
Paschke’s
work is usually spoken of as belonging to the stylistic category or movement
known as Chicago Imagism. Chicago Imagism originated in the late
1960’s with a number of artists from the School of the Art Institute of
Chicago who shared an interest in exploring for
source material for their art products
of popular culture (such as comic books and wrestling magazines), work
by folk or outsider artists, works of Surrealist art, and cultural artifacts
from non-western societies (often seen and experienced by the Imagists
at Chicago’s Field Museum). To confound direct relationships to their
chosen objects of inspiration, and to also perhaps elevate the status of
these objects in a classic Surrealist gesture to disorient the viewer,
the Imagists adopted a labor-intensive, amazingly meticulous technique.
The surfaces of Paschke’s works, for example, are seamless, entirely
without evident gesture. What is most important in Imagist work is,
as the movement’s name suggests, the image which, because of its clarity
and the exquisite craftsmanship of its making, demonstrates an aura of
believability and
an almost sacred quality.
The fact that the subject is so fanciful and idiosyncratic produces a curious
and challenging visual puzzle; what initially arose from such low-brow
or eccentric sources is every bit as substantial technically and metaphorically
as any classically representational work, or any work arising from purely
fine art considerations. The Imagists were able to manipulate and
polish their intensely introspective thoughts and highly personal bodies
of imagery into works that are fascinatingly, surprisingly, entertainingly
transcendent.
The title
Strano
is not directly related to the subject; at least, an understanding of who
or what Strano is is not essential to the understanding of the picture.
Paschke will often choose titles that either are or sound like Spanish,
French, or Japanese. The exotic sounds of these titles are meant
to aid the viewer in his shift of mental state, so that the viewer is prepared
to see the exotic, the unreal, the unfamiliar, brought about by the recasting
of familiar elements. Because of the delicate fingers, the colored
nails, and the gesture of the hand to a corner of the eye, one would fairly
assume that the portrait face was originally (before Paschke’s extensive,
imaginative reworking) based upon
a photograph of a stylish female, perhaps found by the artist in a glamour
magazine. Any sense of reference to the real world, however, was
eliminated when Paschke made various artistic decisions to leave out or
modify those details in the original source picture that seemed to interfere
with what he decided to be central or key to the picture’s meaning.
The face’s eyes, for instance, have been replaced with bell or shell-like
forms, similar in appearance to the bell forms that the Belgian Surrealist
Rene Magritte
sometimes included in his paintings.
(For an example of this bell form, see his 1936 canvas La Lecture Defanse
ou L’Usage de la Parole. Magritte is certainly a significant
influence on Paschke; Magritte’s 1928 painting The Lovers must have
been the motivation for various
hooded forms Paschke has used throughout
his career). The face’s mouth has been replaced by spots and lines
that seem to glow with energy, much like the random electronic firings
one sees on a television screen or computer monitor. This effect
of electric or digital colored light
affecting portions of the face has
been a common component of Paschke’s work since the late 1970’s and may
relate both to Paschke’s interests in the appearance of televised images
and a possible commentary by the artist on man’s identity in the modern
age. It should be noted here that Paschke is interested only in the
illusion of electronic light; he does not use a computer or projector to
generate his work. Rather, his paintings and drawings are done entirely
free-hand, a fact which is further testimony to his skills as a draftsman.
The Mickey Mouses that seem to dance across the face are a visual reference
to the tattooed figures so central to Paschke’s early work. In addition,
they provide another level of pictorial reference, contrasting in their
boldness and abstraction with the very different kind of abstraction seen
in the portrait face. Mickey Mouse, in Strano’s context, may
not be primarily important as an individual character, but more as an easily
recognized indicator or representative of a cartoon’s visual shorthand.
Perhaps also, in the cyberspace of the painting, the floating Mickey Mouse
figures can be thought of as pieces of electronic detritus, drifting through
and attaching themselves to a solid form that holds them in place.
The symbols
that surround the central face point to even more types or modes of representation.
The simplified bird forms to the right of the face, for example, are based
on carved, wooden folk art birds that Paschke’s father, Ed Paschke Sr.,
produced for many years. Thus, these bird images introduce another
layer of artistic style to Strano’s surface and also serve as a
subtle homage to the artist’s father. The generalized, repeated male
profile has the anonymous quality that one would associate with some sort
of instructional public sign; the
exclamation points within these
profiles seem to reinforce a public, instructional interpretation, since
they communicate by their nature a general feeling but have no specific
application. The picture of the Native American headdressed figure,
almost unseen in the left-hand purplish-red portion of the painting, seems
to relate stylistically to ancient petroglyphs or drawings by Native Americans
in pictographs on paper or hide. Whatever the original source or
inspiration for this obscured image, it provides an additional representational
style to contrast with the numerous other picture-making approaches seen
in Strano.
In Paschke’s
surreal work from the Brauer’s collection, an image most likely from a
popular culture source is transformed by Paschke’s selective transformative
eye and hand. To add complexity and richness to the environment of
this central bizarre personage, the artist adds forms that relate and refer
to other visual products in the world that have personal significance for
the artist. The resulting portrait, lit by a glowing technicolor
that exists only in the virtual, televised, and imaginative realms may
be composite in nature, built from a variety of source materials.
It appears to the viewer, however, as satisfyingly complete and silently
urging him to unlock the mysteries in its pictorial depths.
© by Gregg Hertzlieb
