1.
In a recent edition of the New Yorker, Raffi Khatchadourian wrote a profile on the painter Matthew Wong, with the subtitle, "How a self-taught artist become one of the most celebrated painters of his generation." Opposite the first page was a full-page reproduction of the above painting. My eyes bulged; I was transfixed, "This painter is the new van Gogh" I delightedly exclaimed." (The influence of Matisse is obvious as well, but the spirit of the painting brings van Gogh to mind.
The painting evokes a state of extreme isolation. It portrays a desperate hope, a hope that, without wishful thinking, is not to be realized in this life nor in the next. Let us examine this painting.
.
Like Matisse, the use of color is primary. The painting is two-dimensional; the beholder has to supply depth by context--that is, it is obvious that the 'other side' is farther away than the brown area in the foreground.
Matisse uses the same technique; color is not decorative, the use of color is all.
There is a great beauty here. The symmetry of the objects, such as the brilliant red bird in the foreground balancing the green mountain on the other side; the choice and balance of colors is very aesthetically pleasing to the eye. But this beauty is deceiving; there is no warm Matisse-like celebration of life here. We now turn to a description of the subject of the painting, one of near-complete desolation.
There is a central figure in the painting, the 'protagonist,' standing on a hill, with his back to the onlooker. With his arms, the source of action, immobile at his side, he seems to be looking at a little hut on the others side. This faded blue figure--the color of nobility-- is the only figure in the painting that seems to be situated in shade. Hardly visible, the hut has an open door. Other than the protagonist, there is no fellow human being in the painting, which is as devoid of life as the depths of empty space.
Don't be fooled by the red bird. In this interpretation, it is representative of the protagonist's imagination, the protagonist's spirit, the protagonist's soul. The fictive bird can fly over the abyss, but the protagonist always remains locked inside his body, on the ground. It is a representation of wishful thinking with imagination's brilliant wings.
The 'sea' that separates this side from the other is white, which, like ice, reflects all light into space. It is an abyss; it is completely unknown territory. No heaven here. The protagonist seems to have no choice other than to jump into the abyss, as a way to end he pain of his existence.
The protagonist stands with his back facing away from a brown hill. It is brown, the color of decay. Perhaps it represents earthly life, with which the protagonist has no contact. It is interesting that the hill is decorated with a Matisse-like pattern of branches and leaves. The leaves are white, the color of the abyss, perhaps indicating that we don't even know what leaves truly are. All phenomena are thus 'controlled hallucinations'--our best guess of what is really there. Wong seems to be telling us that we will never know Kant's 'Thing in Itself,' and he is right. What is under our noses is just as mysterious as the abyss, empty space.
I interpret the little hut, the almost nothing on the other side which the protagonist imagines will bring salvation, to be a product of wishful thinking. In any case, the green vegetation on the other side seems to be roaring down the mountain like a huge waterfall, which will soon overwhelm the hut and sweep it away.
The other side is thus completely impersonal.
In the upper left is the deep blue of a Lethe-like lake. Above it is a gray sky, with an interstitial pattern that reminds me of the dance of electrons. Nature is thus impersonal, and completely indifferent to the fate of her creatures, which have evolved according to her mysterious laws. The 'almost' nothing, hope-hut is really nothing at all.
It seems that the only way out for the protagonist, the only way to end his extreme existential pain, is to jump into the abyss, to enter 'the bourne from which no traveler retuned.' It seems to be the entrance to total oblivion.
Wong jumped into that oblivion at the age of thirty-five. What could have helped him?
2,
A very difficult question. Matthew Wong suffered from severe social isolation. He was later diagnosed as being autistic. The pain of his troubles is evident in his paintings. He painted obsessively; not painting is pain, he once said. Without the respite of hard work, demons possessed him. Later on, when he became more successful, ambition--an attempt to prove he was a human being by means of being a superior artist--eventually failed.
We humans, who have remained psychologically and physically stable over the past 100,000 years, evolved in groups. We achieve and maintain our sense of identity through interaction with others.
Such a severe inability to connect as Matthew's was is indeed very hard to treat. Simone Weil stated that for someone lost in a ditch the only way out is for someone to jump in the ditch, come down to the sufferer's level, and help him out. A long and arduous process! Who is willing to do that?
Wong needed social interaction. He needed to find out that there were others in his situation. He needed to volunteer. He needed help.
What's so sad about suicide is that it is often impulsive, in other words, the desire to kill oneself is often temporary. I am convinced that suicide is often not so much a wish for death but the most desperate attempt to put an end to one's mental suffering. The saddest aspect of all if that one doesn't get a second chance. Who knows what Wong's life would have been like in the future, with a little help from his friends and with a lot of help from his doctors? Maybe not perfect, but quite possibly bearable.
At age 35, Matthew Wong climbed to the roof of his studio and jumped. I wish I had been there to stop him. I close with a poem I wrote in his memory.
In
Memoriam: Matthew Wong (1984-2019)
Happiness isn’t
what ambition does.
The highest
rung upon want’s ladder
Brought him
to the dark side of the moon.
Climbed a
jagged crater, jumped.
Not
painting is pain, he said. When he
Slowed
down, demons arose, bubbled
By the
worst devil of all, reputation.
Matthew
Wong was only thirty-five;
I wish I
had been there to stop him,
Life is
over soon enough. Happy, still
Miserably
happy, nearly eighty-year-old
Ambition
advises a slow demise.
If you're thinking of harming yourself, please don't. Get help. The 24 hour suicide hotline is 800-273-8255. Choose life, please!
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