"Well... I guess that's what you'd call 'the conscious'."

“I am a scientific person. I believe in psychoanalysis, in philosophy. For me the only thing that matters is the tangible.” Louise Bourgeois

I'm reading the guide notes on the walls of the Louise Bourgeois exhibition at the Centre Pompidou in Paris. They're annoying me. I'm seeing the exhibition with a friend. It's always good to have someone to complain to.

"Look, here it says about how miserable she is again: 'depression, anxiety, the fear of abandonment, of loss of love.' It says it's all going on in the 'depths of her unconscious'."

Although Bourgeois' material comes from the unconscious, and often from misery, she transforms it with tough, highly-articulate and playful, conscious thought.

Ok - let's look at the most immediately obvious things about an artist who is shown in the bank of photos outside her exhibition, unfailingly smiling. She smiles wisely, secretly, ironically, openly; she smiles from inside her sculptures; she smiles at Andy Warhol; she smiles wickedly and most famously holding under her arm a latex phallic sculpture entitled, 'little girl'.

Let's look at her early, isolated, stick-like, sculptured human figures whose fragile attempts to connect with each other are described by the artist with a nod and a wink - look at those two stick-people standing together, the 'female' inclining her head toward the 'male', 'listening' (as in the title of the piece) clearly not only with affection, but a definite touch of 'yes, very nice, dear,' in her attitude.

It's so hard to ignore the hard hysterical, joke-y surrealism which inhabits her sketches and prints of 'house-wives' - women imprisoned by their domestic role. So - let's not ignore it.

Her 1960s 'body parts' sculptures of penis-breasts, which she teasingly denies are sexual, are not only 'repellant, and unsettling' but also meltingly and sensually textured: here is someone who enjoys sex and likes to play around with gender.

It's good to see a room of pieces inspired by the artist's mother whom Bourgeois had a deep need to rehabilitate from her role as silent witeness to a powerful and adulterous husband. Bourgeois transforms her into an enourmous spider - a huge, twisted being; the domestic become monstrous through a change of size -  but also a friendly maternal force with her well-protected bundle of eggs. In the end, this spider scares me less than the ones I find in the bath. I'd like to have this spider on my side.

And let's not shy away from the fact that Bourgeois' work is and has always consciously followed fashion. As maxi-skirts followed minis, so Bourgeois' early Giacommeti-like figures were superseded by her installation works in the 1980s then by her currently fashionable use of embroidery and textiles. If she's 'impossible to categorise' it's not due to iconoclasm but to her knowing and eclectic use of any art movement she finds lying around.

The slightly po-faced exhibition guide has concentrated on Bourgeois' pain rather than the angry, intelligent, tough jouissance with which she transformed - into a clearly-articulated visual language - her hard, priviliged, trivial, serious life.

We get to the last of the noticeboards. My friend agrees:

"They keep on going on about the subconscious meaning. I don't think it's subconscious. It's - what do they call that thing that's above the subconscious."

"Well... I guess that's what you'd call 'the conscious'."

...

The exhibition continues at the Centre Pompidou, Paris until June 2 2008, 11h00 - 21h00

Comments

[La Belette Rouge]

I love the paradox of her quote, "I am a scientific person. I believe in psychoanalysis, in philosophy. For me the only thing that matters is the tangible."
And, I love your question, what do they call that thing that's above the subconscious? It reminds me of a favorite quote from the movie 'Barcelona" that fits the theme of your post.
Fred: Maybe you can clarify something for me. Since I've been, you know, waiting for the fleet to show up, I've read a lot, and...
Ted: Really?
Fred: And one of the things that keeps popping up is this about "subtext." Plays, novels, songs - they all have a "subtext," which I take to mean a hidden message or import of some kind. So subtext we know. But what do you call the message or meaning that's right there on the surface, completely open and obvious? They never talk about that. What do you call what's above the subtext?
Ted: The text.
Fred: OK, that's right, but they never talk about that.

[badaude]

Whit Stillman genius. I probably had that quote in my subconscious...
xb

[La Belette Rouge]

I think that the quote was above my subconcious.;-)

[Milena]

Hi, new to your blog. Loved this breakdown of the artist's work. Had never heard of her but now I think I'll look her up. Love the title of your blog by the way. Will come back.

[badaude]

I think the exhibition is moving to the Guggenheim, New York very soon - so if you're ever in the area...

[gene]

Hi Badaude,

I wonder if you can help me? I am planning to be in Paris in a few months, and will need to get some fairly quick (and not too expensive) framing done. Probably prepared stretcher strips as well.

So I am looking for a place (an art store/frame store/artists supply store...where I might find stock, simple frames. Could be wood or metal.

I need to know where to buy these things, and what "stock" sizes exist...to avoid custom framing.

I assume sizes at metric.

Can you steer me in the right direction?

Thanks so much,

G.

[badaude]

I've been thinking about this one: I'm really not a large-scale person, being devoted to Rotring, Moleskines and the occasional use of Adobe Illustrator, so don't have to do this kind of thing very often. I think you should look up Matthew Rose at Lalande Digital Art Press (http://lalandedigitalpress.blogspot.com/). I'm sure he'll be able to give you some useful ideas.