Paula Rego - Letting Loose

Are these good paintings? No. Are they good works of art? I would argue in their favour, but to understand why you need to know a little bit about Paula Rego, because this is a case where the context is critical in order to fully appreciate what you’re looking at. Viewed in a vacuum, you’d probably walk right by. I mean, look at them. Figures and images overlap with half finished sketches. There’s no clear focal point, rhythm or flow. And the ‘things’ you’ll see? A girl rides a chicken-bird, a woman has a crocodile courtship and a dog is about to sodomise a troll. Just WTF is going on?

These works are from the early 1980’s, a transitional period for Rego during which she decided that the best way forward was to first have a bit of fun. Painting in a fast and loose style, she created “a cast of humans, animals and hybrid creatures that, in turn, empowered her to tell her own story.” They look like random distractions a student might doodle during a boring lecture, except Rego made them huge. 2 x 2.5 metre canvasses, crammed so full of frivolousness you simply don’t know where to look first.

My initial impression was that these were just bad. Then I got confused. And then slowly but surely I became greatly amused by their silliness. A mermaid paired with a cool bear in sunglasses. One woman appears to be giving a handjob to a cat. Mice dance everywhere. They’re shocking, rude and surreal and I couldn’t stop reminding myself that these were from the same woman who made the Abortion paintings. Those works are so haunting and powerful that they’re commonly cited as having played a pivotal role in the decriminalisation of abortion in Portugal in 1998.

That series, along with Rego’s late career pastel portraits, are what I’m most familiar with. They’re political, serious, meticulously made, museum-worthy pieces. Seeing her anarchic, anything-goes early works made me feel a bit like Michael J. Fox’s character in Back to the Future when he accidentally goes back in time and encounters his mother as a rebellious teenager, doing all the un-ladylike things she dismissed as an adult earlier in the film. It was a jolt to the system and I struggled to rationalise how the two bodies of work had come from the same artist. Except I shouldn’t have. Almost all artists go through career phases and changes, and their journey rarely aligns with an audience’s awareness.

I’ve wondered what I would have thought if I had seen these works when they were fresh and new. I suspect I’d probably have dismissed them. Many have dismissed them now, and I understand why. Without the benefit of knowing what Rego produced fifteen years later, without realising these were transitional explorations, these rough and bawdy canvasses look far too casual to take seriously. But even serious artists are allowed to cut loose and have some fun.


Plan your visit

‘Letting Loose’ runs until 11 November.

Visit victoria-miro.com and follow @victoriamirogallery on Instagram for more info about the venue.

Visit the Paula Rego Wikipedia page for more info about the artist.


PLUS…


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Acre of Green (2007)

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2023 - Issue 80