Chuck Close

I was introduced to Chuck Close’s work in a heartfelt documentary, “Herb & Dorothy,” which I reviewed here earlier. As savvy-art collectors, Herb & Dorothy collected works of emerging but talented artists in the two decades following the Sixties; their small apartment housed works of artists Lucio Pozzi, Chuck Close, Christo & Jeanne-Claude,Will Barnet, and Sol LeWitt. Later, these artists profoundly influenced the contemporary art scene, which was prevalent in New York in the Seventies and Eighties. With the passage of time, and through positive feedback and reviews from art-lovers and critics, Chuck Close was rightly associated with the elite group of modern expressionist artists that still exists today. Marion Cajori’s insightful new documentary, “Chuck Close,” explores Chuck Close’s unique portraiture style along with thoughts from fellow artists and critics.

The documentary begins with Close undertaking an ambitious project of building his massive-scale portrait. The process is complex and laborious, and coupled as it is with Close’s disability (in 1988 a spinal-artery collapse left him paralyzed), it is indeed a monumental task. On day one, Chuck briefly explains his process. First, he asks his crew to take close-up shots of his profile. After a lot of deliberations back-and-forth, he selects a set of three or four photos that he will eventually use as reference for the new self-portrait project. In the next step, he constructs evenly-spaced square grids on a big canvas, and with the help of photographs, he starts designing the layout of each grid in terms of the color composition, appearance, and the overall impact.

Along the way, Close remembers his childhood moments: He recalls how his father got a pack of cheap oil paints and later arranged for him to go to an art class. Close’s fascination with portraits started at a relatively young age. He would take a magnifying lens close to a photo and would analyze the close-up image as seen through the lens for long periods. He was exposed to Jackson Pollack’s work at eleven, and for some reason his abstract work always offended him. Yet for some unexplained reason, Close has always used oils as the primary medium for his works.

An American historian and writer, Kirk Varnedoe, analyzes Close’s early work, which is remarkably different from his recent works. According to him, Close’s early portraits were minimalist in nature; the portraits had a veneer of subdued colors, making them appear as though they were composed of monochromatic colors. The overall tonal appearance added a gritty and brazen look to the faces. The final product connects to the viewer with its raw intensity and information packed on the portrait. Echoing Varnedoe’s comments, a fellow artist, Elizabeth Murray, considers Close’s painting of a nude model in his early years as still as cutting-edge and effective as it was thirty years ago. At a personal level, Murray thinks her personality hampers her artwork, and she exalts Close’s work because his portraits and close-ups provide her with some form of artistic and emotional uplift.

In contrast, an expressionist artist from the Fifties, Robert Rauschenberg, thinks Close’s recent work is more dramatic because it is more mystical, complex and lyrical than his earlier works. An art curator, Klaus Kertress, talks about a spiritual connection through Close’s portraits. At a technical level, it is hard not to see a deep influence of photography in Close’s work. The best moment comes when another artist, Brice Marden, critically analyzes Close’s work. He recalls how Close won all his prints in a game of pool; however, his thoughts on Close’s portraits make for an interesting discussion. He believes that Close has an intense relationship with the image that borders on being eerie at times; there is a constant struggle to bring the image to forefront. Finally, in another interview, a famous curator, Robert Storr, discusses how Close’s paintings evoke complex psychological responses from the viewer; the amount of attention showered on an image is simply outstanding.

Certainly, it is hard to classify Close’s work in any particular category as it touches on different styles; some classify him as an abstract expressionist artist and others call him a photorealistic artist. I find it hard to classify him in either category; his earlier works are exceedingly realistic, while his later works contain abstract elements and techniques. In the age of modern digital production techniques, Close’s later portraits have been the subject of criticism; they appear digitized at times, coming right out of Adobe Photoshop. Despite this minor criticism, Close has continued to generate appreciable positive acclaim in the art circle. Probably, the greatness of his work lies in the fact that he never switched his style or his medium and that he stayed with portraits all these years.

I found this documentary absorbing because it tries to bring together renowned artists, curators, and critics for a dialogue on Chuck Close and his complex portraits, in an engaging manner. Mostly, we see interviewees lavishly praise Close for his unique style with little criticism. As a result, the documentary tends only to highlight the positive qualities surrounding his work. I would have loved to hear differing opinions from critics; instead, we get multiple interpretations of some of the most-complex portraits ever created. What’s more, running just under two hours, this documentary feels too long and it drags in the middle act. Nonetheless, the film, through its interviews, takes us on a detailed journey that specifically lays out Close’s portraiture creation process and how his photography has influenced his work. Indeed, there is no lack of technical details and insightful discussions.

Video:

For most part the video looks all right, but it has a very big downside; the transfer has an aspect ratio of 4:3 that is letterboxed. There is enough detail in the transfer, and colors hold up well. Overall, for the documentary, this is an average transfer, if you can ignore the fact that the aspect ratio is messed up.

Audio:

NewVideo has presented this documentary with a 1.0 Dolby Digital track. As expected, the sound only comes through the center channel. The dialogue is clear, but the overall soundtrack is flat and uneven.

Extras:

The only extra we get on this disc is a theatrical trailer of the movie.

Parting Thoughts:

Chuck Close is an important and well-know artist whose work has continually fascinated viewers and critics. The film shows us a down-to-earth artist who is dedicated to his art and the process that goes along with it, in spite of his major disability. Through thought-provoking discussions with famous artists and curators, the film digs deeper into the overall impact of Close’s work and why people like it. For art students, this documentary comes highly recommended.