Die Namen englischer Radrennfahrer tauchen nicht allzu häufig in diesem Blog auf. Bradley Wiggins? Muß noch beweisen dass er wirklich ein harter Knochen und gut ist. Chris Fromme? Hart an der Tour und weichgekocht auf der Vuelta. Sir Chris Hoy? Robert Förstemann. Tony Simpson? War gedopt, bekommt nun nachträglich den Tod aberkannt.
George Dyer? Unwillkürlich denkt man an Staubsauger oder Flughafentoiletten. im richtigen Leben aber war George Dyer der Freund und Liebhaber von Sir Francis Bacon. Nein, das war kein Bahnradfahrer, nicht alle von denen sind adelig (Lady Victoria Pendleton?).
Das Bild hängt im Museum Foundation Beyeler in der Nähe von Basel in der Schweiz.
1909, Dublin – 1992, Madrid
Trained as an interior designer, Francis Bacon took his first steps as an artist in 1927, having been impressed by a Picasso exhibition. Within a short time he produced numerous drawings and watercolours on his own initiative. The only teacher the otherwise self-taught Bacon can be said to have had was the Cubist painter Roy de Maistre. In 1934 Bacon had his first solo exhibition at the Transition Gallery in London. His portrayals of vulnerable and tortured bodies, often depicted in the form of triptychs, were mostly based on photographs. He used distortion, mutilation and the simultaneous superimposition of several phases of movement to reveal the agony of human existence. In 1954 he was chosen to represent Great Britain at the Venice Biennale together with Ben Nicholson and Lucien Freud.
Oil and pastel on canvas, 198 x 147.5 cm
Photo: Robert Bayer, Basel
Francis Bacon’s portrait of his friend and lover George Dyer is a particularly strong example of his complex manner of painting. Bacon depicts Dyer riding his bicycle from right to left as if he were traversing a high wire through a space that resembles a circus arena. Typically for Bacon’s work, the momentum of the sequence of movement is suddenly interrupted, its reliability cast into doubt. Dyer’s face seems suddenly to shift from being in profile, which remains visible as a frozen shadow, to a frontal position. The twisted ovals of the wheels appear to be spinning in all directions. Bacon plans something, only then to undo it in the next instant through an accident or a splash of paint. He repeatedly disrupts his own painting process to bring unanticipated, unfamiliar elements to the fore, whereby both these unfamiliar events and the traces of disruption and distraught agitation assume a powerful presence.