
{"id":1984,"date":"2017-03-24T09:00:01","date_gmt":"2017-03-24T09:00:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/?p=1984"},"modified":"2017-03-14T11:30:16","modified_gmt":"2017-03-14T11:30:16","slug":"feature-waiting-for-a-cure","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/2017\/03\/24\/feature-waiting-for-a-cure\/","title":{"rendered":"Feature: &#8220;Waiting for a cure: Oskar Kokoschka\u2019s Portraits of Tubercular Patients&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>By\u00a0GEMMA BLACKSHAW<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The modern period has been historicised as one of heroic advancement in the visual arts, a time marked by artists\u2019 experimentation with new materials and methods, and representation of new ways of seeing. What is less acknowledged in this history is the role played by medicine, a field which was also marching forwards as the 19<sup>th<\/sup> century rolled into the 20<sup>th<\/sup>. In 1850, most people living in Europe had little to no experience of medical institutions.<\/p>\n<p>But by 1950, many doctors insisted that life begin and end in the hospital. Modernism in the visual arts coincided precisely with this rapid medicalisation of life \u2013 a process that was augmented by new technologies such as the x-ray, new specialisms such as psychiatry, and new forms of rehabilitation such as mechano-therapy.<a href=\"#_ftn1\" name=\"_ftnref1\">[1]<\/a><\/p>\n<p>To medicalise is to turn a subject \u2013 the human subject, let\u2019s say \u2013 into an object for medical study, for diagnosis, treatment, cure, \u2018control\u2019. As Michel Foucault and other social theorists of the 1960s and \u201970s proposed, such medicalisation had profound implications for how the body and how identity, including ethnicity, race, criminality, gender, and sexuality, were conceived.<a href=\"#_ftn2\" name=\"_ftnref2\">[2]<\/a><\/p>\n<p>It is not at all surprising, therefore, that as doctors scrutinised and pathologised the body, identifying the evermore elusive signs of disease, artists turned their attention to the representation of the human subject, to portraiture. In the resultant images, they formulated new identities for themselves, their friends and patrons that referenced, questioned and \u2013 at their most interesting \u2013 transformed modern medicine\u2019s epistemological models for understanding the human condition.<\/p>\n<p>Art historians have argued that the reinvigoration of portraiture that characterises the modern period was a response to the challenge posed by the camera, which rendered the painted likeness of the individual \u2018obsolete\u2019. In my research, I argue that it was medicine as opposed to photography \u2013 which doctors were certainly quick to employ \u2013 which impelled what has been described as portraiture\u2019s \u2018identity crisis\u2019, a predicament that led to the creation of some of the most radical representations of the individual in the history of art.<a href=\"#_ftn3\" name=\"_ftnref3\">[3]<\/a><\/p>\n<p>At present, I am engaged in a study of the portraits produced by the Austrian artist Oskar Kokoschka during his time at the Mont-Blanc Sanatorium for Lung Disease in Leysin, Switzerland. Kokoschka stayed at the sanatorium for six weeks in 1910 at the request of his patron, the modernist architect Adolf Loos.<\/p>\n<p>Loos\u2019s common-law wife, the English dancer Bessie Bruce, was receiving treatment at the sanatorium for tuberculosis, and he had asked the artist to keep her company; if commissions to paint the portraits of patients were forthcoming, he should accept them. In his biography, Kokoschka described the patients he painted as \u2018shriveled plants for whom even Alpine sunshine could not do much.\u2019 (As a health resort, Leysin was one of the leading proponents of the \u2018sun bath\u2019, as well as the \u2018air cure\u2019.) He continued, \u2018They set little store by my painting; to them it was a minor distraction in a succession of identical days spent awaiting a cure \u2013 or the end.\u2019<a href=\"#_ftn4\" name=\"_ftnref4\">[4]<\/a><\/p>\n<p>I\u2019m particularly interested in the relationship between the \u2018waiting for death\u2019 that characterised life in the sanatorium for tuberculosis and sitting for a portrait. In his book <em>On Waiting<\/em>, philosopher Harold Schweizer asks: \u2018How do we wait? What happens when we wait? What kind of an experience is waiting? Is it an experience of time? If so, what kind of time is it? What are the mental and bodily dimensions of waiting, the gendered implications of waiting?\u2019<a href=\"#_ftn5\" name=\"_ftnref5\">[5]<\/a><\/p>\n<p>These questions seem to me to be as applicable to sitting for a portrait as they are to lying on a sickbed. And indeed, in his engagement with the work of another modernist, the Swiss artist Ferdinand Hodler and his paintings of his mistress who was dying from ovarian cancer, Schweizer draws our attention to this very entanglement of time, death, subjectivity and representation.<a href=\"#_ftn6\" name=\"_ftnref6\">[6]<\/a><\/p>\n<p>Reading Schweizer, I wonder how Kokoschka\u2019s portraits punctuated a time spent, endured? If we believe the artist, they diverted the sitter\u2019s attention from the grim realities of life as a critically-ill patient. But what happened when the portrait was finished, and they turned to face \u2018themselves\u2019? What\u2019s fascinating is that none of the sitters purchased the portraits painted of them, despite their spending of such time in \u2018waiting\u2019 for the image.<\/p>\n<p>There was something troubling about these works of art. This was, in part, a question of their modernism, of Kokoschka\u2019s mark-making: the scraping back of the paint; the revealing of the canvas, which we might read as a metaphor for the exposure of a body which was already the object of intense medical scrutiny. With this in mind, could the \u2018failure\u2019 of his portraits as commissioned works of art also have been a matter of how they ran counter to the sanatorium\u2019s image of rehabilitation, of recovery, of health regained, an image these patients were no doubt profoundly invested in?<\/p>\n<p>In his portraits, I suggest, Kokoschka made painterly references to doctors\u2019 analyses of the patient\u2019s skeleton, tissues and blood-flecked fluids, but this was to depict the immanence of a death medics were convinced they could outwit. Transforming modern medicine\u2019s epistemological models for understanding the human condition by questioning their very efficacy, Kokoschka represented his own \u2018truth\u2019. It was a sight few sitters could bear to see.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">\n<p><a href=\"#_ftnref1\" name=\"_ftn1\">[1]<\/a> This was the subject of the \u2018Modernism and Medicine\u2019 panel I co-chaired with Dr Allison Morehead (Queen\u2019s University, Canada) at the College Art Association annual conference, Washington D.C., February 2016.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#_ftnref2\" name=\"_ftn2\">[2]<\/a> Michel Foucault, <em>Naissance de la Clinique<\/em> (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1963). First published in translation by Alan Sheridan Smith as <em>The Birth of the Clinic<\/em> (New York: Pantheon, 1973); N.D. Jewson, \u2018The disappearance of the sick-man from medical cosmology, 1770-1870\u2019 (1976), re-printed in <em>International Journal of Epidemiology<\/em>, vol. 38, 2009, pp. 622-633; Ivan Illich, <em>Limits to Medicine, Medical Nemesis: The Expropriation of Health<\/em> (London: Calder &amp; Boyars, 1974).<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#_ftnref3\" name=\"_ftn3\">[3]<\/a> Heather McPherson, <em>The Modern Portrait in Nineteenth-Century France<\/em> (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001).<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#_ftnref4\" name=\"_ftn4\">[4]<\/a> Oskar Kokoschka, <em>My Life<\/em> (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1974), p. 50.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#_ftnref5\" name=\"_ftn5\">[5]<\/a> Harold Schweizer, <em>On Waiting<\/em> (Thinking in Action Series), (London &amp; New York: Routledge, 2008), p. vi.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#_ftnref6\" name=\"_ftn6\">[6]<\/a> This methodology also informs the work of Mary Hunter (McGill University), who presented her paper \u2018The Surface as Symptom: Medicine, Time, and Toulouse-Lautrec\u2019 at the CAA panel I co-chaired with Morehead in February 2016.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-1954 alignleft\" src=\"http:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw-300x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw-300x300.jpg 300w, https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw-150x150.jpg 150w, https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw-560x560.jpg 560w, https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw-260x260.jpg 260w, https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw-160x160.jpg 160w, https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/60\/2017\/02\/Gemma-Blackshaw.jpg 640w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/a><strong>About the Author:<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.plymouth.ac.uk\/staff\/gemma-blackshaw\">Dr Gemma Blackshaw<\/a> is Professor of Art History at Plymouth University. She co-curated with Dr Leslie Topp (Birkbeck, University of London) the Wellcome Collection\u2019s first international loan exhibition for its new gallery space, <em>Madness and Modernity: Mental Illness and the Visual Arts in Vienna 1900 <\/em>(2009). The exhibition emerged from an AHRC Major Research Project on the relationship between psychiatry and modernism in Austria-Hungary (2004-08). She has published widely on the intersections of modernist portraiture in Vienna with medicine\u2019s contemporaneous visual, institutional, and therapeutic regimes. Current studies include Oskar Kokoschka\u2019s portraits of tubercular patients of 1910, and Egon Schiele\u2019s drawings of pregnant women and newborns in the <em>Frauenklinik<\/em> of Vienna\u2019s University Hospital of the same year. She is a contributor to the international research project, <em>Edvard Munch: Modernism, and Medicine<\/em>, led by Dr Allison Morehead (Queen\u2019s University, Canada), which explores the sustained engagement of the Norwegian artist Edvard Munch with the changing institutions, technologies, and therapeutics of modern medicine.\u00a0This research in this blog was first presented at Royal Academy Schools, London on 16 January, 2017.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>By\u00a0GEMMA BLACKSHAW The modern period has been historicised as one of heroic advancement in the visual arts, a time marked by artists\u2019 experimentation with new materials and methods, and representation of new ways of seeing. What is less acknowledged in this history is the role played by medicine, a field which was also marching forwards&hellip; <a class=\"more-link\" href=\"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/2017\/03\/24\/feature-waiting-for-a-cure\/\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Feature: &#8220;Waiting for a cure: Oskar Kokoschka\u2019s Portraits of Tubercular Patients&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":166,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,137,138],"tags":[87,644,454,649],"class_list":["post-1984","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-features","category-histories-memory-memorialisation","category-transdisciplinary-creative-practices","tag-art-history","tag-gemma-blackshaw","tag-medical-humanities","tag-oskar-kokoschka","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1984","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/166"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1984"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1984\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2204,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1984\/revisions\/2204"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1984"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1984"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.plymouth.ac.uk\/artsinstitute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1984"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}