Firing the Imagination - Esther
My grandma used to say, “Fire & water – our greatest enemies & our greatest friends.” There’s certainly been a lot of water lately, but the pattern of this year’s weather has gone thus:
January, February, March, April, November, June for a few hours, November for a few more & June again.
The first of the month was a really hot day, uncomfortably so. The kind of day when you expect something - that was minding its own business five minutes ago - to combust before your eyes. The kind of day that fools Scots into thinking this is it. It’s summer. Get the shorts out & throw socks, scarves, coats & caution to the wind. The sun is out & everyone cheers up. But Scotland always has other ideas when it comes to the weather. The following day, the optimists are shivering within their sunburn & peeling skin & dusting off the gloves from wherever they chucked them.
That really hot day reminded me of all the days we’ve had to take our own temperatures lately. Whether or not we’re taking covid tests, my battery-operated thermometer hasn’t lost its novelty appeal. I do love a gadget.
Soaring temperatures (hopefully not covid-related), the promise of summer & lighter nights & an intense heat. What does the World of Art have to say about the element of fire?
(As I write this, the temperature has gone shooting up again & I’m regretting having to look at these pictures…)
Jan Griffier, The Great Fire of London, 1666, c.1652-1718
Griffier depicted the Great Fire many times, relocating to London after the disaster took place. It must have been akin to the photojournalism of its day, especially if you move there. Here he not only shows the buildings ablaze & the skies filled with smoke but in the foreground invites us to consider the human cost & the future. He’s asking the same questions we might ask post-pandemic. What will people do without their livelihood? How do we rebuild?
J.M.W. Turner, Fire at the Tower London, 1841
Disasters are always happening, whether man-made or natural. You’d think by now we’d have better control of fires since we’re capable of putting humans on the moon & suchlike but we’re never as clever as we think. In any case, until very recently, this was believed to be a portrayal of an entirely different fire: that of the Houses of Parliament in 1864. “People thought it was Westminster Abbey, but the turrets are too small & far apart, so we think it’s the White Tower…” (Matthew Imms, cataloguer at the Tate)
Eva Mai, from the Rise Exhibition, 2020
The year 2020 will be long remembered for the pandemic, but we must also remember the catastrophic bushfires in Australia that began that fateful year. The Rise exhibition sought to raise money for bushfire relief charities by auctioning works made by international & Australian artists from the charcoal left in affected areas.
A similar project was undertaken after the Glasgow School of Art in which Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s architectural & design masterpiece was destroyed.
Jackson Pollock, The Flame, c. 1934-8
Here Pollock depicts the primitive energy & unfettered danger of fire. By Pollock’s standards, it’s an almost figurative vision of flames. Made with flicked brushstrokes in thickly-applied paint, this work is said to be heavily influenced by studying the José Clemente Orozco fresco The Epic of American Civilisation. This experience enabled Pollock to find new forms & ideas & an alternative language in paint.
Paul Klee, Fire, Full Moon, 1933
In an astonishing precursor to pixilation, Klee reduces his scene down to the bare minimum before it slips into complete abstraction. Only the full moon is rounded & only the fire is scarlet. Using his ideas about colour, he gives us the impression of colours reflecting back from the fire. In spite of his modern style, this is a celebration of the natural & elemental.
Gabriella Possum Nungurrayi, Bush Fire Dreaming, 1999
Bushfires are a part of the life cycle of Australian deserts. As the cycle moves on, so the plants & creatures available to those living there change. In this brilliant video, we see the artist at her meticulous work & get a sense of the scale of her paintings:
Banksy, Season’s Greetings, 2018
With Banksy, there’s always a twist, always an idea. In turning snowflakes into the result of air pollution, he’s raising awareness of an environmental problem that affects over 90% of children across the globe. Because it’s a Banksy of course, it’s valuable & people want to preserve it. Port Talbot where it has been painted has been granted permission to “keep” it for three years. To be honest, information like that makes me despair.
Vincent Smith, The Fire Next Time, 1968
Vincent Smith frequently depicted the scenes from the Civil Rights Movement, using powerful imagery to get across the horror & injustice of the times. Here we clearly see the pain, the fear & the rage of the oppressed. This image not only portrays those continually suffering under a discriminatory system but one of the frequently-seen characters of righteous protest – fire.
Roy Lichtenstein, As I Opened Fire, 1964
Here Lichtenstein examines another aspect of fire in all three of these panels. I have read complaints that it contains an unclear narrative, that the viewer can’t be sure whether the fire is coming from one side or another. Personally, it’s unclear to me how he got away with such a direct lift from what was originally a DC comic…
Iri & Toshi Maruki, Fukushima 7 - Fire (Fire Panel II), 1950
The Marukis, a husband & wife artistic team really are the photo journalists in this situation. After the bombing of Hiroshima there was a great deal of censorship inflicted by the US in terms of imagery & information. The Hiroshima Panels of which this painting is a part, is a response & indeed a protest against such censorship. Having been forced to search for missing loved ones amongst the carnage, the couple embarked on this enormous project to express the horror & to attempt to find the humanity emerging from the atrocity.
Dale Chihuly
Chihuly uses the colours of fire to create this astonishing work. When we consider the difficulties - & time consumed - of traditional glass-blowing to create the simplest of shapes or items, Chihuly also blows my mind. In this clip, he talks of “the thinness & collapsibility of making new forms”:
Indian (Tamil Nadu), Shiva as Lord of the Dance, c. 11th Century
As Nataraja, Shiva is the Lord of the Dance. The ring of fire surrounding him represents the cycle of all life: birth, death & divine creation. The flame in his hand signifies renewal following destruction.
Fire as the ultimate friend & the ultimate enemy.
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