Material Deprivation and Unrelenting Commitment: Making One’s Own Fortune Cards in the Work of Robert Coutelas.
- The Courtauldian
- 3 hours ago
- 3 min read
Emma Henwood
Pale Horse Gallery’s debut exhibition Robert Coutelas: In Search of Small Gods features over 100 paintings by French artist Robert Coutelas (1930-1985). The exhibition is currently housed at the intimate, yet opulent Byzantine influenced Fitzrovia Chapel until the 31st of October. The exhibition will then move to the gallery’s new permanent space at 51 Great Portland Street, finishing on the 13th of December. This exhibition marks the inaugural display of the artist’s work in the UK and offers insight into his impoverished life that was punctuated by his artistic drive. This was also my personal introduction to Coutelas’ oeuvre, and I came away with his work lingering in my imagination.
The chapel's rich interior and biblical icons make for a sharp contrast against the often dark and melancholic artworks. Whilst both the architectural space and Coutelas’ work is otherworldly, one presents as divine and the other unsettling. In Coutelas’ displayed series Mes Nuits, the cartes could be considered haunting as a result of their archetypal and eerie iconography, particularly in the representation of mortality through skeletal motifs. Immediately the small cardboard rectangles struck me as resembling tarot cards, perhaps a further nod to hermetic symbols. Their shape and subjects nod to the occult making this an ideal Halloween exhibition. Although some feel more jovial and even carnivalesque, they depict jester-like figures and beaming suns that add a touch of light to the series. However, even the more magical cartes have an air of the macabre about them being products of a life marked by poverty. With no choice but to be resourceful, Coutelas collected discarded materials from the Parisian streets which supplied him with his miniature cardboard canvases. Their simultaneously mythical and grotesque nature act as insight into the turbulence of his life and the mental consequences of deprivation.
Artistic practice seemed to be a solitary task for him. Coutelas’ desire to produce art was rejected by his own family and his desire for freedom of creation led to him rejecting the involvement of artistic institutions. With only his own support, Coutelas created relentlessly and without inhibition. Their repetition in scale, theme and occasionally the same subject in slightly different iterations feels suggestive of Coutelas’ artistic process. The returning themes are perhaps indicative of the thoughts and figures that played on his mind. Art seems to be an unshakable facet of his lifestyle and perhaps a solace during times of immense poverty and mental distress. During Coutelas’ life he attempted suicide on more than one occasion. Once as a result of his family’s refusal to accept his pursuit of the creative life. His artistic conviction was evidently unwavering, honouring the artworks relentless production. Knowledge of his psychological struggles casts light on the dark themes, his inner pain permeating the imagery and colours. This is of course not a simple explanation and perhaps just a lens through which to read his work. As his first exhibition in the United Kingdom these rarely seen artworks are an insight into the mind of a devoted artist.
Despite their scale (typically 12 x 6 cm), they feature a variety of creatures and people often playful despite what I felt was a taste for festive grotesquery. The tarot card or even playing card format heightens this whimsical quality, as do the mythological characters and occasional flash of bold colours. This felt demonstrative of Coutelas’ ability to prioritise experimentation and his own artistic inhibition over techniques such as naturalism and qualities such as profitability.
Whilst the exhibition occupies only the aisle of the chapel and the altar, I would not underestimate its efficacy. The exhibition’s curation leads one along the nave of the church following the prolific series Mes Nuits to the altar. Mounted upon a plain grey wall, temporarily standing upon the altar, nine more of the cartes are displayed, flanked by two larger pieces. Both of these paintings are profile portraits from the series Mes ancêtres. Their composition owes much to the visual language of Renaissance portrait paintings, most notably the use of parapets to frame the figures, and their bold profile positioning.
Small but mighty, just like Mes Nuits, Coutelas’ and Pale Horse’s joint introduction to the London art scene is striking.
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