Polke Post 17 - Research project: Ian Rothwell, How to Draw Badly

POLKE POST 17
How to Draw Badly

“Maybe I want to show how dependant we are on existing forms, how unfree our thoughts and actions are and that we are continually resorting to what exists, or that we are in fact obliged to do so, consciously or unconsciously…It can also be irony, laziness, incapacity, or dullness.”[1]

Sigmar Polke [1966] quoted in Lanka Tattersall, ‘Eight Days a Week’, in Kathy Halbreich (ed.), Alibis: Sigmar Polke 1963-2010 (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 2014), p. 101.

This was Sigmar Polke’s melancholic and ironic response to a question as to why he used images from newspapers and magazines as a pictorial model for his work in the 1960s. His remarks suggest that the practice of drawing has become ‘unfree’, something deracinated and subjected to administrative control. Drawing, for Polke, can no longer be something that calls forth an authentic sense of subjective wholeness or corporeality. It can only now be lacking, or ‘bad’, according to these criteria. Instead, it functions according to what Benjamin H.D. Buchloh has, in another context, called a "diagrammatic paradigm", which records an image of alienation from our own bodies.[2] Polke made this statement in an interview from 1966, the period in which he styled himself – along with Gerhard Richter, Konrad Lueg, and Manfred Kuttner - as a ‘Capitalist Realist’. 

Much of his work in this period can be characterized as diagrammatic, in that it refuses any sense of authentic corporeality, in favour of ironic, lazy, and haphazard translations of commodity objects, which convey an artist performing some sort of an attempt to sublimate the dreams, desires, and promises of the ‘Wirtschaftswunder’ (economic miracle) in West Germany. What is interesting about the diagrammatic style of Polke’s drawing, is that it is executed badly. These are bad diagrams; they perform a stalled attempt at sublimation. Polke’s translation of the forms and contents of consumer capitalism in West Germany don’t display any subservience to its myths of celebration and plenty, instead they are like misfired attempts at reproducing its fantasies. In this sense, Polke’s diagrams are not quite the totalising image of alienation that Buchloh observed in the diagrammatic paradigm of drawing.  They are a little too off-kilter; a little too bad.

This performance of sublimation is laid bare in a series of little-known and largely unpublished lined-sketchbooks (the art historian Michael Semff has speculated that there exist several dozen sketchbooks).[3]  One such sketchbook, in the Collection of German Prints and Drawings at the British Museum, archived as Untitled (sketchbook 16), c. 1969, comprises a series of twenty-eight watercolour drawings on lined-paper, seven of which are accompanied by cuttings from newspapers and illustrated magazines. This blue A5 book contains pages of rapidly executed sketches, visual ideas, chains of association, pictures cut-out and pasted from magazines and newspapers. The sketchbooks are full of bad drawings, both formally and conceptually. Polke chooses the wrong medium – i.e. watercolour – for his particular support – i.e. low gsm lined office paper –, so that the resultant line bleeds erratically, failing to cohere into something recognisable, not fitting to the prescribed matrix. Moreover, the copy and pasted images cut out from advertisements, are cropped haphazardly, denying the wholeness of their message. And when used as a model for pictorial composition, Polke’s renditions are sparse, like incomplete diagrams.

Sigmar Polke, page from Untitled (sketchbook 16), ca. 1969, with collage and drawing
Sigmar Polke, page from Untitled (sketchbook 16), ca. 1969 | © The Estate of Sigmar Polke / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn, Photo: Ian Rothwell

I would like to draw attention to one particular drawing in the sketchbook; the second of the series, a sketch in grey watercolour accompanied on the opposite page with a cutting from what appears to be an advertisement for domestic cleaning products, showing a housewife gazing at a carefully organized array of brooms, brushes, mops, and vacuums. I’ve highlighted this sketch because of its parallels with Roy Lichtenstein’s The Refrigerator (1962), the supposed ur-text of the Capitalist Realist group, which Konrad Lueg saw in reproduction in the January 1963 issue of Art International, and excitedly shared with his then classmates at the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf; Polke, Richter, and Kuttner.[4]

Roy Lichtenstein,
Roy Lichtenstein, The Refrigerator, 1962 | © Estate of Roy Lichtenstein / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn

­­ Like much of Polke’s work in this period, Lichtenstein’s The Refrigerator is derived from the clichés of advertising, in this case an advert for Arm & Hammer bicarbonate soda. In the painting, Lichtenstein removes all text from the source image, transcribing and tightening its image of a cliché housewife into a vertical format. This has the effect of intensifying the formal features of the clichéd image, heightening its stylization of reality. On this basis, the critic Lawrence Alloway surmises that The Refrigerator ‘is a good example of an original art work pretending to be a copy’.[5] A distinctive aspect of Lichtenstein’s Pop Art was that he used traditional hand-based operations (i.e. painting with a paintbrush) to translate his meticulous images of consumer-capitalism. The same goes for Polke, albeit without any of the meticulousness. In this respect, the second drawing of Untitled (sketchbook 16) is a bad example of an original art work pretending to be a copy. There is a certain amount of commonality between The Refrigerator and this drawing.

Both display the process, or before-and-after, of switching an image from one channel into another. Unlike, Lichtenstein, however, Polke’s interpretation of the image fragments the display, decomposing rather than heightening the composition, rendering it almost abstract, depicting only a single broom and brush, outlined by a broken rectangular shape, with a haphazard series of scored marks and cross-hatches. His drawing subjects the image to a kind of entropy. This drawing is bad in the sense that it refuses the sort of compositional principles and ‘academic picture-building’ that Alloway observed in Lichtenstein.[6] Whilst it may be possible to intuit some sort of criticality in Lichtenstein’s excessive fetishization of the commodity image, it is equally possible to see The Refrigerator as simply affirmative, celebratory even.[7] Certainly this was Jean Baudrillard’s view of the wider Pop Art phenomenon in an essay titled ‘Pop-An Art of Consumption?’ (1970), in which he laments an end of subversion and a total integration of the art work into the sign of the commodity.[8] There is no such risk with Polke’s rendition of the image. Instead its ‘lazy’ translation, which removes the human figure and decomposes the advert into a series of languid stokes of grey watercolour can be seen to illustrate and amplify the caustic final line of Adorno and Horkheimer’s essay "The Culture Industry", which describes "the triumph of advertising in the culture industry: the compulsive imitation by consumers of cultural commodities which, at the same time, they recognize as false".[9] The melancholic irony suffusing this statement is equally conveyed in Polke’s bad example of an original artwork pretending to be a copy. By contrast, Lichtenstein’s Pop is not bad, his work displays a thorough assimilation of advertisement into painting, producing images of wholeness and plenitude: his artworks are fully functional, whereas Polke’s translations are sub-optimal. There is a humming spirit of negation reverberating throughout Polke’s bad drawing, which destabilizes its total integration into the sign of the commodity.[10]

Ian Rothwell
 
[1] Sigmar Polke [1966] quoted in Lanka Tattersall, ‘Eight Days a Week’, in Kathy Halbreich (ed.), Alibis: Sigmar Polke 1963-2010 (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 2014), p. 101. (Original quote in: Dieter Hülsmanns ‘Kultur des Rasters: Ateliergespräch mit dem Maler Sigmar Polke’, Rheinische Post, May 10, 1966, translated by Magnus Schaefer).
[2] See Benjamin H.D. Buchloh, ‘Hesse’s Endgame: Facing the Diagram’, in Catherine de Zegher (ed.), Eva Hesse Drawing (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2006), pp. 117 – 150.
[3] Michael Semff, ‘Line, Dot Screen, and “Glass Painting” on Paper: Notes on the Artistic Principles of Sigmar Polke the Draftsman’, in Margit Rowell (ed.), Sigmar Polke: Works on Paper 1963-1974 (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1999), p. 16.
[4] See Michael Sanchez, ‘A Logistical Inversion; From Konrad Lueg to Konrad Fischer ‘, Grey Room, No. 63 (Spring 2016), p. 7.
[5] Lawrence Alloway, ‘On Style: An Examination of Roy Lichtenstein’s Development’, ArtForum, Vol. 10, No. 7 (March 1972), available at https://www.artforum.com/print/197203/on-style-an-examination-of-roy-lichtenstein-s-development-37504.
[6] Alloway, ‘On Style: An Examination of Roy Lichtenstein’s Development’, https://www.artforum.com/print/197203/on-style-an-examination-of-roy-lichtenstein-s-development-37504.
[7] For instance, Hal Foster has written on Dadaist strategies of ‘mimetic exacerbation’, which can perhaps be mapped onto Lichtenstein’s meticulous or excessive translations of the formal aspects of commodity objects and advertisements. See Hal Foster, Bad New Days: Art, Criticism, Emergency (London; New York: Verso, 2015), kindle edition.
[8] Jean Baudrillard, ‘Pop-An Art of Consumption?’ [1970], reprinted in Paul Taylor (ed.), Post-Pop Art (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1989), p. 35. 
[9] Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer, ‘The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception’ [1944], in Gunzelin Schmid Noerr (ed.), Dialectic of Enlightenment (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2002) p. 136.
[10] See Gail Day, Dialectical Passions: Negation in Postwar Art Theory (New York: Columbia University Press, 2011), p. 5.