David Armstrong and Maria Lassnig: two exhibitions at LUMA Arles

Hello everyone! During Our Sunday at LUMA Arles with Greg, We started with the exhibition dedicated to David Armstrong, before discovering the archives of Maria Lassnig. Two very different artists, brought together in the same visit: in Armstrong’s case, faces in black and white, photographed up close of his entourage; in Lassnig’s, bodies deformed by sensations, painting and a very personal way of representing themselves.

David Armstrong, closest to his models

David Armstrong photographed his friends, artists, and a whole generation associated with the American scene from the 1970s to the 1990s. He is often associated with the Boston School, alongside Nan Goldin, Philip-Lorca diCorcia, and Mark Morrisroe. This connection is immediately apparent in the portraits: the models are not there to pose perfectly. Some are looking elsewhere, smoking, holding their dog, or seem to have been photographed amidst a conversation. It is clear that Armstrong knows the people in front of his camera, and that is precisely what gives the images their naturalness.

I particularly liked the contact plates. They show everything that precedes the photograph that is ultimately chosen: a changing movement, a glance that turns away, several almost identical images that do not, however, tell quite the same story. It is part of the work that one rarely sees once the photo is published, when it says a lot about the relationship between the photographer and his model.

The set design was very dark, with shots and screens appearing in the shadows. This choice suited the photographs well without trying to add more. One had to get close to see the faces and details, then take a little distance to see how the images interacted with each other. The exhibition showed as much about the result as it did about the way Armstrong constructed his portraits.

Maria Lassnig, painting what the body feels

The transition to Maria Lassnig was quite radical. After Armstrong’s very direct photographs, I found myself in front of bodies with strange proportions, faces that sometimes shifted towards the animal and colors that did not seek to make the figures more amiable. I did not know her work well enough to immediately understand what I was looking at. Lassnig did not paint the body as it appears from the outside, but from the sensations she had about it: the areas of tension, weight, or discomfort could take up all the space, while the rest disappeared.

Once this idea is understood, the paintings become much more readable. The deformations are not gratuitous and the colors are not just used to make the canvas spectacular. They convey an inner perception, sometimes funny, sometimes quite brutal. This is also what makes her self-portraits so special: she does not seek to present herself in a flattering way, but to show a physical presence with whatever instability she may have.

The archives presented around the works helped me to get into her work. The letters, interviews, reproductions and the chronology allowed me to follow her travels and the evolution of her painting over several decades. The exhibition did not reduce Maria Lassnig to a few impressive paintings; it also showed an artist who worked for a very long time before achieving the recognition that her work now enjoys.

Two views of the body

As I leave the gallery, it is the contrast between the two exhibitions that stands out for me. Armstrong starts from the people around him and from what he observes in front of him. Lassnig takes almost the opposite approach: she starts from what happens inside the body to decide what will appear on the canvas. In both cases, the portrait is never simply a resemblance; it tells a story about a relationship, a state or a way of perceiving oneself.

This visit was part of our first day at LUMA, between the park, lunch and the exhibitions. I recounted this day in my article about LUMA Arles. And since I almost never leave this kind of place without going through the book shelves, you can also find them here. the four books I bought at the LUMA bookstore.