ED
PASCHKE: STRANO
To confound direct
relationships
to their chosen objects of inspiration,
and to also perhaps
elevate the
status of these objects in a classic Surrealist
gesture to disorient the
viewer,
the Imagists adopted a labor-intensive,
amazingly meticulous
technique.
The surfaces of Paschkeâs works,
for example, are
seamless, entirely
without evident gesture. What is most
important in Imagist work
is,
as the movementâs name suggests, the image
which, because of its
clarity
and the exquisite craftsmanship of its making,
demonstrates an aura of
believability
and an almost sacred quality. The fact
that the subject is so
fanciful
and idiosyncratic produces a curious
and challenging visual
puzzle
...
Strano,
a 1997 oil on canvas painting by the Chicago artist Ed Paschke, is one
of the Brauer Museumâs most popular works, due not only to its
bold, striking
colors, but also to its enigmatic subject that seems to arise from a
dreamlike
electronic world. The disembodied, mask-like face in Strano
is surrounded by an array of puzzling images that, in their repetition,
form a patterned backdrop. The origin, nature, or precise
symbolism
of these images is not immediately clear as these background elements
were
most likely drawn from the artistâs individual experiences or
even subconscious.
Those that are recognizable are placed in such an unusual new context
that
their old meanings or associations are no longer entirely
relevant.
While Strano is clearly portrait, due to the prominence of the
central
face and the hand that
directs the viewerâs
eye to that
face, it is not a portrait of a recognizable person (although
Paschkeâs
figural pieces do frequently originate from his initially faithful
transcription
of a magazine or book reproduction, often depicting a celebrity or
historical
figure). Rather, the stylized visage, placed in a field of
graphic
signs or emblems, serves as a portrait of the artist himself.
That
is, the viewer adds up the numerous visual clues in Strano and
soon
realizes
that the painting is a
summary on
a small scale of the artistâs central themes and concerns.
Paschkeâs
work is usually spoken of as belonging to the stylistic category or
movement
known as Chicago Imagism. Chicago Imagism originated in the late
1960âs with a number of artists from the School of the Art
Institute of
Chicago who shared an interest in exploring for
source material for their
art products
of popular culture (such as comic books and wrestling magazines), work
by folk or outsider artists, works of Surrealist art, and cultural
artifacts
from non-western societies (often seen and experienced by the Imagists
at Chicagoâs Field Museum). To confound direct
relationships to their
chosen objects of inspiration, and to also perhaps elevate the status
of
these objects in a classic Surrealist gesture to disorient the viewer,
the Imagists adopted a labor-intensive, amazingly meticulous
technique.
The surfaces of Paschkeâs works, for example, are seamless,
entirely
without evident gesture. What is most important in Imagist work
is,
as the movementâs name suggests, the image which, because of its
clarity
and the exquisite craftsmanship of its making, demonstrates an aura of
believability and
an almost sacred
quality.
The fact that the subject is so fanciful and idiosyncratic produces a
curious
and challenging visual puzzle; what initially arose from such low-brow
or eccentric sources is every bit as substantial technically and
metaphorically
as any classically representational work, or any work arising from
purely
fine art considerations. The Imagists were able to manipulate and
polish their intensely introspective thoughts and highly personal
bodies
of imagery into works that are fascinatingly, surprisingly,
entertainingly
transcendent.
The
title Strano
is not directly related to the subject; at least, an understanding of
who
or what Strano is is not essential to the understanding of the
picture.
Paschke will often choose titles that either are or sound like Spanish,
French, or Japanese. The exotic sounds of these titles are meant
to aid the viewer in his shift of mental state, so that the viewer is
prepared
to see the exotic, the unreal, the unfamiliar, brought about by the
recasting
of familiar elements. Because of the delicate fingers, the
colored
nails, and the gesture of the hand to a corner of the eye, one would
fairly
assume that the portrait face was originally (before Paschkeâs
extensive,
imaginative reworking) based
upon
a photograph of a stylish female, perhaps found by the artist in a
glamour
magazine. Any sense of reference to the real world, however, was
eliminated when Paschke made various artistic decisions to leave out or
modify those details in the original source picture that seemed to
interfere
with what he decided to be central or key to the pictureâs
meaning.
The faceâs eyes, for instance, have been replaced with bell or
shell-like
forms, similar in appearance to the bell forms that the Belgian
Surrealist
Rene Magritte
sometimes included in his
paintings.
(For an example of this bell form, see his 1936 canvas La Lecture
Defanse
ou LâUsage de la Parole. Magritte is certainly a
significant
influence on Paschke; Magritteâs 1928 painting The Lovers
must have
been the motivation for various
hooded forms Paschke has
used throughout
his career). The faceâs mouth has been replaced by spots
and lines
that seem to glow with energy, much like the random electronic firings
one sees on a television screen or computer monitor. This effect
of electric or digital colored light
affecting portions of the
face has
been a common component of Paschkeâs work since the late
1970âs and may
relate both to Paschkeâs interests in the appearance of televised
images
and a possible commentary by the artist on manâs identity in the
modern
age. It should be noted here that Paschke is interested only in
the
illusion of electronic light; he does not use a computer or projector
to
generate his work. Rather, his paintings and drawings are done
entirely
free-hand, a fact which is further testimony to his skills as a
draftsman.
The Mickey Mouses that seem to dance across the face are a visual
reference
to the tattooed figures so central to Paschkeâs early work.
In addition,
they provide another level of pictorial reference, contrasting in their
boldness and abstraction with the very different kind of abstraction
seen
in the portrait face. Mickey Mouse, in Stranoâs
context, may
not be primarily important as an individual character, but more as an
easily
recognized indicator or representative of a cartoonâs visual
shorthand.
Perhaps also, in the cyberspace of the painting, the floating Mickey
Mouse
figures can be thought of as pieces of electronic detritus, drifting
through
and attaching themselves to a solid form that holds them in place.
The
symbols
that surround the central face point to even more types or modes of
representation.
The simplified bird forms to the right of the face, for example, are
based
on carved, wooden folk art birds that Paschkeâs father, Ed
Paschke Sr.,
produced for many years. Thus, these bird images introduce
another
layer of artistic style to Stranoâs surface and also
serve as a
subtle homage to the artistâs father. The generalized,
repeated male
profile has the anonymous quality that one would associate with some
sort
of instructional public sign; the
exclamation points within
these
profiles seem to reinforce a public, instructional interpretation,
since
they communicate by their nature a general feeling but have no specific
application. The picture of the Native American headdressed
figure,
almost unseen in the left-hand purplish-red portion of the painting,
seems
to relate stylistically to ancient petroglyphs or drawings by Native
Americans
in pictographs on paper or hide. Whatever the original source or
inspiration for this obscured image, it provides an additional
representational
style to contrast with the numerous other picture-making approaches
seen
in Strano.
In
Paschkeâs
surreal work from the Brauerâs collection, an image most likely
from a
popular culture source is transformed by Paschkeâs selective
transformative
eye and hand. To add complexity and richness to the environment
of
this central bizarre personage, the artist adds forms that relate and
refer
to other visual products in the world that have personal significance
for
the artist. The resulting portrait, lit by a glowing technicolor
that exists only in the virtual, televised, and imaginative realms may
be composite in nature, built from a variety of source materials.
It appears to the viewer, however, as satisfyingly complete and
silently
urging him to unlock the mysteries in its pictorial depths.
© by Gregg Hertzlieb
