Lot 33
  • 33

Fernando Botero (B. 1933)

Estimate
800,000 - 1,000,000 USD
bidding is closed

Description

  • Fernando Botero
  • Rosalba
  • signed and dated 69 lower right
  • 75 1/2 by 49 1/2 in.
  • (181.8 by 125.7 cm)
oil on canvas

Provenance

Joachim Jean Aberbach, New York
Harold Reed Gallery, New York
Hanover Gallery, London
Urban Art Research Center, New York
Private Collection, Netherlands
Sale: Christie's, New York, Latin American Paintings, Drawings, Sculpture and Prints, Part I, November 16, 1994, lot 25, illustrated in color
Private Collection, Miami

Exhibited

London, Hanover Gallery, Botero, October-November, 1970, no. 4 illustrated in color
Rotterdam, Museum Boymans-van Beuningen, Botero, March-May, 1975, p. 27, no. 12, illustrated in color
Caracas, Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Caracas, Botero, April-May, 1976, no. 9
Tokyo, The Seibu Museum of Art, Fernando Botero, June-August, 1981, no. 28
Miami, Gary Nader Fine Art, Fernando Botero, One Man Show, Homage to the Master, December, 2006, n.n., illustrated

Literature

Germán Arciniegas, Fernando Botero, New York, Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 1977, no. 71, illustrated
Marcel Paquet, Botero: philosophie de la création, Belgium, Philosophie des Arts, 1985, p. 52, no. 26, illustrated
Giorgio Soavi, Fernando Botero, Milan, Fabbri Editori, 1988, pp. 11 and 111, no. 83, illustrated
Marcel Paquet and Susan Resnick, Botero: Philosophy of the Creative Act, New York, Mallard Press, 1992, p. 46, no. 26, illustrated
Hector Loaiza, Botero S'explique, France, Éditions la Résonance, 1997, p. 57, illustrated in color
Galerie Thomas, Global Botero: Happy 75th Birthday, Turin, Grafiche Ferrero, 2007, p. 27, illustrated in color

Condition

This painting is in beautiful condition. The canvas is unlined and well stretched. It does not appear that the paint layer has ever been varnished or damaged and there appear to be no restorations, which is unusual for a large painting by Botero. This picture is in beautiful state and should be hung as is. (This condition report has been provided courtesy of Simon Parkes Art Conservation, Inc.)
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.

Catalogue Note

In a wonderful and insightful essay on Fernando Botero's seemingly endless fascination with the subject of women in his art, the Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes discusses the artist's use of space in relation to the female form and poses the following argument—the very volatility of Latin America inevitably destines its' men to shorter life spans while, "it is Latin American women who endure. Widows or spinsters, they are forever waiting for an imaginary suitor, as Miss Wingfield in Tennessee Williams's The Glass Menagerie, or sighing eternally and cruelly, in an abandoned mansion, for the lost beau, as Miss Havisham in Charles Dickens's Great Expectations. They occupy all the space that is left, [and thus] Botero's women are not fat. They are space."1

 

While Fuentes's keen observation on the relationship between space and women in Botero's art is certainly true of the Amazonian figure here depicted, Rosalba is no shrinking violet nor is she one of the tragic protagonists described above. Indeed, she not only occupies nearly the totality of her pictorial space but she commands it and seems to "gaze" out to the viewer in a manner that dares any of us to transgress her territory. 

 

Fuentes's musings on Botero's women is just one of numerous attempts by many writers to address the Colombian artist's extraordinary career, as well as his particular penchant for this subject matter—one which he has explored in countless paintings and sculptures­—from mythological creatures and art historical heroines to ladies of high society and those of less repute. Yet, surprisingly Botero himself is somewhat dismissive of his seemingly obsessive predilection for this subject. In a rather well-known quote, he asserts, "I am a painter and not a composer of madrigals.  If women are often my subjects, it's because they have been one of the main subjects in painting for centuries. What really guides me above all, when I sculpt or paint men, women, animals, or objects, is the plastic aspect of beings and things. Plasticity exists indiscriminately in a woman, a still life, or landscape."2 While it is true that Botero's subjects —human or otherwise—are equally subjected to his same bewitching style of exuberant forms rendered with almost imperceptible brushwork resulting in an overall flatness that neutralizes his subject matter, it is no less true that despite his efforts to detach himself from his content– especially the signifying potential of women given this particular genre's status in the history of art and image making—it is nearly impossible to remain neutral when approaching one of his monumental women who appear to be "ripe" with meaning.

 

Executed in 1969, Rosalba reflects the artist's signature style from this period in which figures and objects are rendered in a smoky or sfumato-like atmosphere that imbues his scenes with a dreamy or slightly out-of-focus effect. Rosalba is just one of many works based on scenes from brothels, a subject Botero has returned to consistently throughout much of his career and which owes as much to the artist's recollections of his life in Medellín as it does to 17th-century Dutch painting. However unlike his Dutch predecessors who sought to explore the moralizing possibilities of this subject, Botero's approach eschews tradition and social mores and in its place asserts the pleasure and power of womanhood. One is inevitably reminded of such classic art historical depictions of slave girls or courtesans, as Jean-Auguste Dominque Ingres's classic and modest Odalisque and Édouard Manet's confident, yet still "tasteful" Olympia. While no doubt these paintings raised a few eyebrows when first exhibited, technically they conform to the accepted standards of taste and morality prevalent during their time vis à vis the treatment of female nudes—Ingres paints his nude with her back to the viewer, while Manet, several decades later, chooses a slightly more risqué approach, yet still careful to conceal his model's private parts with a strategically placed hand. Botero's Rosalba throws caution to the wind and chooses a heretofore unimaginable pose—full, frontal nudity—in a contrapposto (with the engaged leg in the forward position) stance that momentarily recalls Michaelangelo's David or its Classical Greek forerunners.

 

Indeed, Rosalba is neither bashful nor vulnerable like her aforementioned 19th-century counterparts or the tragic literary heroines invoked above by Fuentes, but rather like the mythological David and his Classic predecessors, she exudes monumentality and power in a truly modern context. With one arm placed on her waist, hair coiffed à la Amy Winehouse, and fire engine red polish on fingers and toes, this chain-smoking diva defies all art historical and social conventions. While several "boteroesque" touches, including a framed photo of a past or distant lover displayed atop her drawer and a delicate, lace curtain drawn to reveal her equally girlie bed disturbed only slightly by the site of a plump, black cat perched on the edge—no doubt a double entendre (or perhaps a clever art historical nod to the pussy cat in Manet's famous Olympia)—further exposes a liberated woman unencumbered by traditional views or expectations.

 

 

 

1 As quoted in "Introduction," Botero: Women, ed. Paola Gribaudo, New York: Rizzoli, 2003, p. 8

 

2 As quoted in Botero: Women, p. 165