Never give all the heart... Yeats Joel-Peter Witkin has not only the referencing in common with the official art scene, but also the obsession with transgression. The trend was set centuries ago with the introduction of subjects like the erotic nude or the horrors of war (Goya). Already more audacious was the depiction of ugly or nubile bodies (Schiele, Rodin) and of more perverse forms of sexuality (think of the drawings of Rops and Bellmer's doll). From the sixties onwards, the darker domains or sadomasochism and self mutilation are disclosed - think of the Wiener Actionists and figures like Marina Abramovic. Less public media, like prints and photography, have always been ahead in such matters. But also within the realm of photography, there is an hierarchy between 'common' and 'artistic' photography. While, under the counter, already in the second half of the nineteenth century practically the whole spectrum of perversity is covered, it is only in the beginning of the twentieth century that the nude becomes respectable in artistic photography. For more perverse subjects, we have to wait until after World War I (think of the photos of Bellmer and Molinier). In the galleries, subjects like homosexuality appear only in the seventies: think of Mapplethorpe and David Wojnarowicz, and of Andres Serrano's the photos of corpses and blasphemic representations like his "Piss Christ" (1989). With Witkin, also the whole domain of sadomasochism, which already flourished in the punk and gothic scenes of the seventies (see, among others, Santerinos, Griffeth), finds its way to galleries and museums.
Witkin felt predestined to play this role. With predilection, he refers
to a childhood memory that - many are those who prefer to hide their
choices behind determinants of all kinds - would have been
decisive for his later work; a car accident that occurred in front of
his house in which a little girl was decapitated. 'No wonder',
then, that, a>s a young boy, he began to collect
articles on mental illness, atrocities, and
misfits. As a teenager, he proceeded to make photographs of a
three-legged dwarf for his painting twin brother. During his military
service, he had to make photos of soldiers who died in accidents, during
manoeuvres or through suicide. Things come to their apogee when he
marries the tattoo artist Cynthia in 1978. evoluciona su embrutecimiento y sus mecanismos para aniquilarlo todo'. El viandante en 'Como lentas aves' Vladimir García Morales The above sheds also another light on the emphasis with which Witkin seeks to inscribe himself in the tradition of painting. He does not restrict himself to referring to works of great artists. Countless are his attempts to lend his photos an artistic character. During the development of his photos, he uses chemicals to obtain diverse brownish tints. Many of his prints are processed with coffee, tea and other pigments like selenium. Sometimes Witkin smears them with wax that is heated and polished, 'which resulted in a silvery, found-antique'. It reminds me of children who try to give their maps of treasure island the look of parchment through drenching them in coffee. In that respect, the trend is completed through Mustafa Horasan who executes Witkin's photos with genuine paint on a genuine canvas. The desire to be considered as a real artist does not suffice to explain such an obsession with painting. The oldest 'artsy' interventions of Joel-Peter Witkin consist of scratching the negative with razor blades. It is not difficult, then, to discover the deeper meaning of the smearing with pigments and wax: a 'sanctification' of the sadistic scratching. And that goes also for the emphasis with which Witkin 'composes" his photos. We cannot but be reminded of the equally clumsy and obsessive symmetry that Molinier imposes on his assemblages of limbs: composition not so much as a kind of straitjacket that has to contain otherwise uncontrollable impulses, but rather as a kind of manoeuvre that has to ensure that the gaze is not diverted from the horror. Does Witkin himself not declare: 'Even if you want to say No to the subject matter, its rendering is so beautiful that you just might say: Yes!'* 'Composition', hence, as a particular variant of the more general abuse of 'art' as permit for all kinds of transgression. Only against this background do we understand why the first references to paintings from the classical tradition appear in the eighties: after Witkin's entrance in the morgue. As if this step could only be taken when disguised as a step in the museum. Witkin's references teach us also something else. For, on closer view, we are not dealing here with tributes, let alone with demonstrations of superior mastery - the way in which real artists used to 'refer' in olden times - just think of Titian's 'comment' on Giorgion's 'Sleeping Venus'. No, just like scores of other 'post-modern' references, those of Witkin rather partake of the gesture with which Duchamp painted a moustache on da Vinci's Mona Lisa - not to mention his suggestion to use a Rembrandt as ironing board: the debasing and banalising of art by the impotent or uncultivated. It suffices to study some of the more elaborated examples. We already mentioned the ridiculous 'Birth of Venus'(1988). Everything that makes Botticelli's creation to a masterpiece is turned into its opposite, without any significant plus value. Sheer blasphemy - if not sadistic destruction of beauty. The same goes for 'The three Graces' (1988). With the sole difference that the whole is now underpinned with a new pseudo-profound dimension through the addition of a predella with a work of Witkin's. Such an addition is not only pseudo-profound (I leave it to the commentators to reveal the deeper meaning), but also utterly un-artistic, because purely allegorical. And parasitary at that: because they owe their meaning only to more respectable ancestors. In 'Studio of the Painter Courbet' (1990), the banalising and desacralising goes hidden behind a historical antecedent: the then understandable gesture with which Courbet introduced the real world. With Witkin, this gesture is turned into its very opposite: he takes the place of Courbet, and his Cynthia that of the model. Such banalising shows its true face when Witkin proceeds to Witkinise (think of Lichtenstein) one of the greatest masterpieces in the history of art in his 'Las Meninas' (1987). The genius himself takes the place of the master, and corpses that of the breathtaking beauty of Velasquez' Meninas. Such debasing usurpation tells the whole truth about Witkin's references: not more nor less than the old strategy of our primate ancestors to climb the ladder by associating with the alphas. With the sole difference that it is the underdogs who impose themselves and thus bereave the alphas of their legitimate prestige. And more fundamentally: Witkin's 'reference comes down to the blunt sadistic 'deconstruction' of beauty... Not only a saint in the morgue, hence, but above all a Beotian on the Parnassus. . ...OR PHOTOGRAPHY? The above should not make us blind for the fact that Witkin's works stand or fall with their status as photography. For, although, on first glance, it is above all the 'staged' and 'artsy' character of this photography which attracts the attention, the chocking effect depends primarily on the fact that, dead or alive, it is real humans that are photographed by Witkin, and not merely self created beings conjured up on the canvas, like those of Bacon (who merely let himself inspire by photos). In this respect, Witkin turns out to be not so much a 'pictorialist', as rather the very counterpart of it: someone who conceives the photo as a document - the un-artistic 'imitation' of reality... Although he pushes the boundaries of documentation by resorting to corpses for his staging of pain, making 'reality' even more cruel. That is not an innocent intervention like that of Capa's 'falling soldier': this scene could have been real. With Joel-Peter Witkin, on the other hand, we are dealing with scenes that cannot be real - although, if real, they would embody the wet dream of many a SM-adept, who precisely therefore kicks on the 'documentary' character of such images. And that lifts also the final veils in which Wiktin has wrapped his creations: the 'aesthetic distance' turns out to be a mere loincloth over a nearly disguised engagement - the Kantian 'interest' - in the proceedings that are rendered true to nature. 'Nature' itself would do better, were it not for the constraints that the civilised world is supposed to have imposed on the treatment of human beings... In that respect, Nitsch, with his 'Orgien Mysterien Theater' is far more consequent, even when he had to pay a price for it: whereas, in the mimetic dimension, Witkin could stage the most unbridled sadomasochistic orgies through the use of corpses, in the real world, Nitsch had to content himself with the sacrifice of mere animals. ARTIST? No saint, then, but sadist. No painter, but documentary photographer. A great artist perhaps? Again, we should no be misled by appearances. To begin with, even Witkin's most fervent aficionados will have to admit that his oeuvre is rather one-sided, if not monomaniacal. Formerly, artists used to be judged from the multifacetedness of their oeuvre, as well from the point of view of subject matter, as from the technical point of view. During the twentieth century, the market has decided otherwise: increasingly, artists become brands, and their works logos: just think of Jan Fabre's beetles or of Luc Tuymans' washed-out palette - and that phenomenon announced itself already with Mondrian, Rothko or the late Bacon. You can recognise them from miles away. Not like you recognise a Shakespeare, a Mozart or a Rubens - as the one single spirit that hovers over countless waters - but like you recognise a brand: by the flag, not by the freight. The artwork as logo. That goes especially for Witkin. There is nearly no development in his oeuvre, not formally, not contentually. The work of Witkin suffers from more shortcomings. We already discussed the deeper meaning of Witkin's widely praised compositions. Let us now have a look at them from an artistic point of view. As long as Witkin handles only one figure or body part, he occasionally makes stronger photos like 'Story from a book' (1998). But, paradoxically enough, Witkin seems to have more problems when he has to combine more elements. Paradoxically enough: because precisely the staging of photos opens possibilities that are out of reach for the photographer of found reality. Nevertheless, Witkin seldom succeeds in composing an organic whole - or, which comes down to the same: to make the anorganic really anorganic: his compositions always partake of the artificial character of tableau vivants or photo collages. That is not so conspicuous in his still lives. But, in his compositions of human figures, he mostly makes a poor show - especially when, in addition, he paraphrases paintings, like in the bluntly ridiculous 'Gods of Earth and Heaven' (1988) after Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus'. Not to mention 'John Herring posing as Flora' where an aids patient appears on a cloud 'in order to show his elevation above life and existence', without however really coming off the ground. 'Artsy', to be sure. But great art? No! Whatever merit Witkin's work might have from a formal point of view is spoilt by the content. Everybody is absolutely free in the choice of his subject matter. But the critic is also free in making a judgment. And when I have to choose between sadism sold as compassion, and the crude variant, I choose for the latter: a pure question of truth. In this respect, photos of say a Goran Bertok are far more outstanding than those of Witkin, were it alone for the fact that his images are unadulterated photos, and not documents in the guise of paintings, like those of Witkin:
And in no less uncertain
terms do they indulge in the dark charms of the
sadistic greed.  For a similar case, see 'Paul McCarthy' BIBLIOGRAPHY BORHAN, Pierre and WITKIN Joel-Peter: 'Disciple and Master', Fotofolio, 2000. BUCK, Chris and Alevizakis, Christine: 'Interview Joel-Peter Witkin" ****CELANT, Germano: 'Joel-Peter Witkin", Scalo, 1995. *HORVAT, Frank: 'Interview with Joel-Peter Witkin' PALMER, Christa: 'A History of Truth" MARGARET REGAN: 'Turning a Prophet', Tucson Weekling, Februari 1, 2001. ***SEWARD, Keith: "Joel-Peter Witkin - exhibit" ArtForum, Summer, 1993 **WILSON, Cintra: Joel-Peter Witkin Your reaction (English, German, French or Spanish): beyst.stefan@gmail.com . Stay informed about new texts: mailing list
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