The Art of Failure: An HBO documentary featuring Chuck Connelly
“There is a certain freedom to ‘Who gives a f***,’ ” Chuck Connelly announces, and this freedom is certainly evident in the works which make up the body of In Fashion. In these works Connelly divorces himself from critics and paints to please himself. This pleasure translates flawlessly to the canvas. For a man who has work in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and who is the subject of a documentary expected to be released by HBO and BBC in 2008, it feels appropriate that Connelly is finally able to succumb to self indulgence.
Ironically appropriate in the current atmosphere of decadence and hedonism, the works of In Fashion are all inspired by high-fashion advertisements. In his more than thirty years of experience as a painter, Connelly has been praised by New York critics for his innovative and bold use of paint. Through his cunning manipulation of color and his carefully honed skills as an artist, he transforms the two-dimensional fashion model into a living, breathing entity.
His expressionistic style lends itself seamlessly to the world of high fashion. Connelly’s sensual brush strokes suit the drama, glamour and self-indulgence of the Vogue photographs from which he draws inspiration. Each shallow photograph takes on a different dimension when rendered in paint — Connelly brings life and a new perspective to the high-fashion silhouettes he quotes.
Essay for “In Fashion” by Caroline Millet
Chuck Connelly has come into fashion — What an irony… How astonishing that an artist devoted to the purity of his vision is using Vogue photographs as models for his paintings! Connelly appears to be working in an entirely new way. “In Fashion” he presents dream girls, each and every one beautiful in her own stylized manner.
Formerly — for a period of over 30 years — Connelly’s best work was praised by New York critics for its passionate inventive power, sensuous handling of paint, and most importantly, his tragicomic narrative style. An unabashed expressionist on the grand scale, he has addressed such subjects as heaven and hell, catastrophe and revelation, beauty and the beast, often paired within the context of contemporary social issues.
Despite first impressions, Connelly’s work has remained true to his original ideals. He is still the critic and the clown. Now he’s just hiding behind those pretty faces. A more mature Connelly continues to use his mastery of oil on canvas to awaken the minds of his audience — but now he is letting us reach our own conclusions, particularly about the dark side.
With uncanny skill, Connelly has given life to that which is lifeless. Consider how he has energized his ladies’ handbags; they have gone back to being animals, well-groomed hungry beasts, indispensable extensions of fashionable females. Inevitably, these anthropomorphized commodities send out powerful signals about sex and money. (It is intriguing to note that the slang for ‘purse’ has very vulgar connotations in several Latin languages).
Ironically the objects come to life while the models turn dead. Their eyes are empty and their bodies are frozen. While the artist strips them of all vitality, at the same time he makes them wondrously gorgeous, even more compelling than they appeared in the original photographs. The strength and subtlety of Connelly’s medium, along with his consummate technical skill, allow him to perform this magic trick.
Perhaps you wonder why he would do so. Surely a good artist should be able to paint anything he sees. But Connelly is not just practicing his craft in this exhibition. As is the case with almost all great artists, he has been directed by his psyche in a way he simply cannot ignore: he is in the pursuit of the perfect female form. “In Fashion” he has created what he is looking for, the apotheosized American women. On the other hand, the realist in Connelly lets us know that his models are merely commodities. They are all products of starvation, plastic surgery, drugs, wiggery, and their own pots of paint. Such women can give neither the artist nor most people what they truly want — home, warmth, comfort, and of course, love.
— Caroline Millet
Caroline Millett has served as Advisor on the Arts at the Department of State and USIA, and as Vice President of the University of the Arts. She holds an M.A. in American Cultural History from Stanford University. She is currently President of Millett Design in Philadelphia.
