Michael Borremans' Unrealism

 

The Belgian painter Michael Borremans has been all the rage the last few years, but it came as news to me when I encountered him recently at the Paris Review online. But that's not a surprise, since my engagement with the art world is sort of random. I check in with the main art websites, read reviews in the New York Times, Boston Globe, and New Yorker, pour over the content-rich Provincetown Arts each year, and just make a note whenever I see something that appeals to me. Oh, and I'm a big fan of the website Abstraction in Action, which features Latin American artists. 

At any rate, the thing about Borremans, of course, is that he paints using traditional technique, which makes him stand out. From there, he tweaks the conventions of traditional portraiture. The person who got famous a couple decades ago working similar turf is John Currin. But his pieces are showy, what with their porny, cartoonish aesthetic. Honestly, who would hang one on their walls is a mystery to me. I suppose a person rich enough to both buy one and not feel the need to have to look at it once bought.

Borremans' paintings actually range from "slightly-off" realism to full on surrealism. I tend to like the ones that hew closest to reality, but in a disconcerting way. I love the portrait of the woman facing away. First of all, it's clever and eye opening, as in, hey, why not paint a portrait from behind? In art-speak, one might even say we have privileged the forward-facing view (probably for good reason, since it features that little thing called a face). But more than that, there is the slight suggestion of shame. 

I also really like the one with the girl spreading cheese on bread (the piece is call "The Cheese Sandwich"). What I like is that it's so stilted. She's clearly not making a sandwich but just holding the knife there in a frozen state. Like she suddenly forgot how to make one. "This is not my beautiful cheese sandwich! And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?" He works with models, so this girl was just asked to pose with the knife there I guess. It's not meant to capture a scene of domestic tranquility, like Vermeer.

Finally, he has a whole series where people wear clothing that isn't like any clothing that actually exists. What the hell is that woman wearing? And why? And where can I get that?