When a piece of art fails to captivate, engage, or move me, the term that immediately springs to mind is “lifeless.” Art that falls flat lacks vitality, whereas art that resonates is vibrant, and truly exceptional art possesses an extraordinary energy. Currently, I am gazing at a remarkably vibrant masterpiece. With features as intricately carved as a Congolese mask and a flesh-toned sweater blending seamlessly into the shadows around his waist, Peter Lacy commands attention in a gold-framed portrait created by his partner, Francis Bacon.
This setting is the Colony Room Green in London—not the original Colony Room, but rather a nearby establishment that lovingly reconstructs the bohemian bar managed by Muriel Belcher, where Bacon famously ordered round after round with his legendary toast: “Champagne for my true friends, and real pain for my fake friends!” The green walls here are adorned with art and memorabilia, which includes a wanted poster created by artist Lucian Freud in an effort to recover his own lost portrait of Bacon.
So, how did Peter Lacy, who appears to be a grand, baroque presence nestled in this cozy space, find his way back home? Jago Cooper, director of the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts at the University of East Anglia, clarifies that he is on “day release”—akin to a temporary outing from prison. The Sainsbury Centre has declared that all the works in its collection are alive: “Art is vibrant and dynamic, waiting for interaction from anyone with a soul.” Thus, Cooper posed the question: if a living artwork could escape the confines of a museum, where would it choose to wander?
It’s a reasonable assumption that a Bacon painting would prefer to return to its creator’s old hangout, or at least to this replica. The intensely vibrant painting occupies a commanding position in the center of the room. One might almost expect it to start delivering acerbic one-liners to the delight of drunken phantoms—those Soho misfits and outcasts lingering in the dim afternoon light, drinks in their bony hands. The bar is delightful, yet, unfortunately, if you visit the new Colony Room, you won’t find Bacon’s painting. This is merely a day release, though it is being documented for a film set to premiere in April at the Sainsbury Centre, featuring actors portraying gay men from Bacon’s era and today, sharing their experiences.
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So what does this represent? A fleeting visit from a masterpiece to a bar where the public can only glimpse it through film? Let’s refrain from using the dreaded term “publicity stunt.” Instead, let’s ponder whether it is truly significant to assert that a piece of art is a living entity, possessing its own thoughts and desires about where it wishes to be.
Anyone who has ever cherished a work of art knows this to be true. It is integral to the magic and potency of art. Bacon’s presence in the bar is palpable proof. Each smoky brushstroke, every textured smear of black or pink, vibrates with vitality. Lacy is a conscious being, and behind him, you can sense the vital essence of the artist, the warm pulse flowing through his painting hand.
Five centuries ago, the Renaissance author Giorgio Vasari extolled the Mona Lisa, stating: “In the pit of the throat, gazing intently, one could perceive the heartbeat.” In fact, art has historically been perceived by many as animated: sacred objects infused with divine or magical energy. In southern Italy, you can still witness statues that weep, come alive, and march in festivals. In this comfortably intimate bar, I experience a similar uncanny sensation towards Peter Lacy. Is he about to reach out from the painting and strike me, as he was known to strike Bacon?
This reverence was mostly supplanted in much of Europe by the 18th century, which favored a more secular and rational approach to aesthetic appreciation. Artworks—objects deemed worthy of admiration—were removed from their religious or ritual contexts and placed in museums. Or, to continue with the “day release” metaphor, imprisoned. There, it can be challenging to feel their enchanting power, their vitality.
The Sainsbury Centre is striving to revive that intoxicating belief in art, not just through its day-release initiative but also in its exhibitions, which encourage visitors to engage with artworks as living entities, from carved masks of the Pacific Northwest to Picasso’s sketches. Its app invites you to explore not the “history” of a piece, but its “life story”; not when it was created, but when it was “born.”
Is this gimmicky? Not to me. You either believe that art is alive, or it holds no significance for you. Do yourself a favor. Embrace that belief.
The Living Art collection exhibitions can be experienced at the Sainsbury Centre, University of East Anglia, Norwich.
The post Headline: Alive and Toasting: Francis Bacons Masterpiece Takes a Day Release to Revel in Its Old Haunt first appeared on London.
Author : London News
Publish date : 2025-02-26 18:37:12
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