To Vex, To Ponder

Giorgio De Chirico is a surrealist I discovered at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art this past weekend. His painting (left) is called Les contrarietes du penseur, or The Vexations of The Thinker. I stared it while I was observing art this Sunday on the second floor and couldn't take my eyes off it. Interestingly enough, I was observing another artist in the same gallery who was inspired be De Chirico. The story goes that this man saw his oil painting in a dealer's window and immediately decided to become an artist -- his inspiration was clear -- Yves Tanguy had never held a brush prior to this. Isn't that amazing? It is clear to me why he is so inspiring.

Later surrealists such as the famous Salvador Dali were also impressed by de Chirico and it is no wonder. His painting spoke to me in such a way. First, because the title is so vivid and touches me, first as a literati and philospher, and second as an art enthusiast. The description held that the focal point is this half knight-half machine character against a brooding cityscape. Apparently, de Chrico used cityscapes of favorites in the Mediterranean he had visited, possibly such as Turin (home of a major influence, Nietzsche) and Paris, I believe. What captures me is the absurdity of this (man) who I can't quite create emotion in my mind, since I am unable to capture facial features by seeking detail int he painting. Yet, despite this, I feel drawn to the emptiness of this landscape the "thinker" is in, where it seems cold and him as representational of both man and machine gives me great pause. That the "thinker" is half-anything is interesting enough already. Does this mean he is calculative and logical versus pensive and expressive? Does he use the corner of this city as a hiding place for his thoughts - convoluted, curious, and alone? If so, I sympathize. I don't mean alone as a lonely thing necessarily, either. He seems stalwart, and strong, despite his brooding, if I can feel this from the painting. Upon reflection, I feel a bit strange because this painting affected me more than most of the other events this weekend. Perhaps because I am introspective, and it is more intuitive than even my social and affectionate side. Sometimes I feel more myself when I dig underneath and attempt to access my subconscious musings through observations. I feel more than I usually feel when I watch others on occeasion, see (really truly see) art, and just walk on a bridge or stare at the ocean. I wonder why a scene can cause me to feel or know something so lucidly somehow when I am so apart from the event. It is strange to think, but somehow true. While I don't experience everything emotional as an objective perception of reality, (this would be a little less human than I could claim) standing apart from something can make me feel really alive. And sometimes it illuminates relationships and feelings I cannot access on my own without inspiration. As a more subdued emotional being, it is as if my sensitivities are drawn from my being by everything around me. My own vexations were somehow in bright clarity when I drove home from the city....All because of a German painter, Giorgio De Chirico.