by Peter Webb
Information about disabled artists of the past is necessarily difficult to find. Those who made art their profession seem to have been mainly able-bodied, and nothing seems to be known about disabled amateur practitioners of the arts, of whom there were no doubt many.
I drive past, encased in practicalities,
The Girl, waiting my passing, stirs memories, brings loneliness,
Open, youthful, untroubled beauty, seeming whole,
My incompleteness aches.
Could I ask her to walk with me,
And tie her freedom with my stumbling?
Would she ease and speed my labours,
Cooking, cleaning, writing?
Could she accept, love, lie with me,
Caress my leaping limbs and need my fimbling?
Or would I bruise her tenderness,
Or grasping, break the wholeness that I seek?
Years past I did not know or dare to ask,
Fear sealed my longing in dumb words
And smiles that, twisting, spoke of things unbearable.
Now I know each needs another to be whole;
That one with another, equal,
Can find greater freedom,
Longings satisfied,
Now I know that I am equal,
My greatness matching what I lack,
My caring over all.
Yet still past ghosts, unexcorized,
Will seal my lips;
And twist my face;
And knot my limbs.
A strangled longing murders what it sought,
In helplessness.
Come, weep with me,
Set free my life
To seek its wholeness joyfully.
Jonathan Griffin (St Helens)
Poem in larger textHere evidence of mental disease can be readily found; both Hugo Van der Goes in 15th Century Flanders and Francesco Parmigianino in 16th Century Italy are recorded as being 'mad', and major works by each artist seem to reflect the onset of mental disturbance. The same is true of the 19th Century English painter Richard Dadd, who produced his greatest works in Bedlam after being sentenced to life imprisonment for murdering his father. But the use of the term 'mad' is fraught with difficulties; both William Blake and Vincent van Gogh were considered 'mad' by their contemporaries.
In 18th Century France we hear of two great individuals with immense physical problems. The Rococo architect Francois Cuvillies was a dwarf, although this does not seem to have had an adverse effect on his work, and he was able to travel to Germany to design some of his finest buildings. Antoine Watteau suffered from a debilitating condition which brought about his early death, and this seems to lie at the root of the strange detached melancholy, which permeates his idyllic 'fetes champetres'. After his death, many of his erotic works were destroyed, and we can only guess at the personal fantasies these may have displayed.
At the beginning of the 19th Century, Beethoven and Goya overcame total deafness. Goya's late 'Black Paintings' covered the walls of his house in Madrid, and like many of his etchings, they express the terror and frustration of an observant individual of immense talent, isolated amid society yet all the more able to see its crimes and foibles.
We know of four major French artists of the 19th Century who experienced physical disability towards the end of-their careers without ceasing to work. Manet had a leg amputated, and thereafter produced a series of delicate pastel flower-studies and portraits. Renoir suffered from a severe form of arthritis, and his last works were painted with the brush strapped to his wrist. Both Degas and Monet lost most of their sight. For Degas this resulted in a preoccupation with small wax models of horses and dancing girls, where his extremely sensitive touch replaced his vision. Monet continued to paint progressively 'abstract' evocations of his water-garden which mark the climax of pure Impressionism.
One other 19th Century French artist is especially relevant. Toulouse Lautrec had short deformed legs as a result of riding accidents in his youth, and always felt an outcast in the Parisian Society of the 1890's. He thereafter made friends among the cabaret artists and prostitutes, and his brothel paintings show an extraordinary degree of sympathy with these sad people who so fascinated him. A search for erotic satisfaction through art is common to many creative disabled people; this is as true today as it was of Watteau, Toulouse Lautrec, and also Aubrey Beardsley who produced many strange and brilliant fantasies of Masturbation and necrophilia before dying of tuberculosis in 1898 at the age of 26.
Although in the 20th Century there has theoretically been far more scope for the disabled artist, both amateur and professional, to exhibit his or her work, the opportunity to express intimate and emotional thoughts in a group, as in this splendid exhibition, is unprecedented. Today's artists can draw inspiration from Maria Blanchard, friend of Diego Rivera and fringe member of the Cubist movement, who had humps on her front and back. Her later paintings concentrated on children since she was never able to be a mother herself. They can also admire the work of Edward Hurra, the English Surrealist painter of haunting fantasies in bright singing colours. He found it difficult to grip a pen or paint-brush, yet overcame his illness and produced large impressive water-colours made up of small sections neatly stuck together.
Perhaps the most exciting inspiration of all can be found in the last masterpieces of Matisse. Propped up in bed or seated in his wheelchair, the artist created in his 'papiers colles' some of the most invigorating and dynamic images of 20th Century art.
Peter Webb is a senior lecturer in art history at Middlesex Polytechnic and the author of the book The Erotic Arts.