- 47
麗奈特·伊亞登·博亞基耶
描述
- Lynette Yiadom-Boakye
- 《墳墓》
- 款識:藝術家題款並紀年2005(背面)
- 油彩畫布
- 200 x 160 公分;78 3/8 x 63 英寸
來源
Condition
"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. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."
拍品資料及來源
Using sources that are distinctly non-contemporary, her works are entrenched in the history of painting and devices of traditional portraiture. A survey of fin de siècle art provides the direct precedent for the artist's portrayal of the human subject. In particular, the likes of Edgar Degas, Édouard Manet, and Walter Sickert comprise central reference points; their pictorial un-doing of mimetic representation enacts a formal power that is redolent in Yiadom-Boakye’s work.
Such a straightforward concession to art history is nonetheless unmistakably troubled. Where racial Otherness in the history of western art is largely silent or typecast, Yiadom-Boakye re-casts historical white subjectivity as a pantheon of entirely fictional and imagined black characters. Herein, Yiadom-Boakye unpacks the racial politics of portraiture via jarring normalcy and mundanity: “When the issue of colour comes up, I think it would be a lot stranger if they were white; after all, I was raised by black people… for me this sense of a kind of normality isn’t necessarily celebratory, it’s more a general idea of normality. This is a political gesture for me. We’re used to looking at portraits of white people in painting” (Ibid.). Often androgynous and spurning discernable class traits and temporal indicators, her figures appear distinctly generic and ordinary. Though planeness of dress and dislocation from both time and context work to disrupt otherness and orientalising constructs of black picturing, the central locus of tension and big event in Yiadom-Boakye’s canvases principally resides in the leering stare or grimace of her subjects. Sometimes threatening, but never vulnerable, her protagonists are unambiguously empowered.