Arrogance or Invisible? Chuck Close's Effect on Modern Art

One of my favorite artists is Chuck Close. I admire the level of realism in his paintings, which are indistinguishable from a photograph. By using a grid, he can take a photograph and replicate it on an abnormally large scale. Close’s portraits are a cornerstone of modern art, and are subjects of much attention and debate in the art world. However, his artistic methods lead critics to question the meaning behind his art. His Big Self Portrait is so big that Donald Kuspit argues Close creates his art on such a large scale to emphasize the “importance” of artists. In his article, “Heroic Isolation or Delusion of Grandeur? Chuck Close's Portraits of Artists,” Kuspit finds Close’s art to be pretentious. In another article, titled “Chuck Close: Recent Paintings,” John Ewing claims Close’s art, despite its size, risks being overlooked by the viewers. He claims the subjects of Close’s portraits, relatively unknown artists and friends, cause the paintings to lose some of their meanings.

Kuspit, an art history and philosophy professor, compares Close’s self-portrait to Albrecht Durer’s self-portrait. Both portraits convey the artist as more important that they really are. Durer’s portrait portrays himself as a Christ-like figure. Close’s portrait is different. Kuspit claims his painting lacks the emotion of Durer’s. This lack of emotion causes Close to seem more arrogant and self-obsessed. Kespit believes Close’s portraits offer “little sense of sharing and communicating the common lot of humanity, and virtually no sense of belonging to the human community and being subject to the vicissitudes of life.” The author wonders why Close has conveyed this in his art and decides that Close is attempting to raise the artist above the average human being. He often paints other artists in his photorealistic portraits. Kuspit writes, “What we have in Close's portraits is a bombastic elevation of the artist above the human condition--a glorification of the artist carried out by means of a monstrous enlargement (indeed, grotesque monumentalization) of his appearance.” He follows by claiming the use of enlargement is to convince the viewer that the artist is superior. That is not too farfetched, usually things that are big are important, so why not pictures of artists? Lincoln has his own monument, why can’t Chuck Close and the artist have theirs? Kuspit believes Close paints the artist in such a way because the artist’s way of life is threatened. If the artist is not superior, why should non-artists shell out big bucks for their paintings and sculptures?

Kuspit criticizes the “lack of introspection” found in Close’s art. Despite pretentiously painting himself, Durer still managed to provide some self-perspective. However, Close’s art uses its domineering size to make up for its emotional shortcomings. The writer even calls Close’s art pugnacious for brandishing its power. The art’s sheer size wants to make the viewer feel inferior to protect the modern artist’s lifestyle. Apparently, the artist “has to be a hero to himself because he feels isolated and alienated, however economically and socially successful he may be.” Kuspit finds Close’s portraits of himself and other artist to be nothing more that self-made advertisements. Modern artists can no longer rely on their work for publicity. Instead, they have to rely on overbearing portraits of themselves, which make them seem more important than they really should be.

Kuspit finds himself quite disgusted with Close’s advertisements – I mean artwork. For something that is so reprehensive, it is unlikely it would go unnoticed. However, according to an article by John Ewing, Close’s art has become commonplace to the extent that it is invisible. According to Ewing, the photorealistic portraits are so accustomed in the public eye, that they risk suffering the same fate as Andy Warhol’s pop art did in the 1980’s. He believes Close’s art is in danger of being unnoticed because of his subject matter. His portraits of relatively unknown artists and family friends require the viewer to ask, “Who’s that?” The viewer who fails to ask the question will not appreciate the portrait.

Why does it matter if the viewer recognizes the subject, there are many paintings of unknown individuals. Perhaps it is the level of realism in Close’s art. The portraits (at least the older ones) are nearly indistinguishable from the photographs of which they are based.
The viewers know the portraits represent someone, but whom? The viewer who doesn’t know the subject is just looking at a photograph of some random person. Photorealistic paintings leave no room for symbolism. In older portraits such as Durer’s, the artist could alter the appearance of a certain object to create extra emotion in the painting. There is no denying Close’s art appears slightly empty and there is little emotion involved. The still-faced stare of Big Self Portrait looks more like a mug shot than an insightful portrait.

Interestingly, Kuspit and Ewing disagree about the subject matter and its effect on Close’s artwork. Kuspit finds the large-scale interpretation of artists to be pretentious. Ewing claims Close’s artwork suffers from the unknown subjects it sometimes portrays. Kuspit’s extremely critical argument hurts its own credibility by being so harsh. The author does not find one thing to admire about the portraits. He only uses his own opinion, which allows the reader to think he is the only person with that viewpoint. On the other had, Ewing describes an art gallery showing Close’s recent work. He mentions the whispers of “Who’s that?” creeping through the gallery. Plus, Ewing didn’t resort to criticizing every facet of Close’s art. His criticisms are stated in a professional manner and he avoids expressing his own opinion about the arts purpose.

1. Kuspit, Donald. “Heroic Isolation or Delusion of Grandeur? Chuck Close's Portraits of Artists.” Art New England 19.4 (June/July 1998): 11.
2. Ewing, John. “Chuck Close: Recent Paintings: PaceWildenstein.” Modern Painters (September 2005): 108.