.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
Richard Estes is the king of Photo-Realism. With Canaletto-esque precision, he painstakingly creates fine, detailed paintings, monumental in size, of the modern urban streetscape that are, even close-up, unnervingly photographic. Using opaque projectors, slides and panoramic lenses to solve problems of perspective and distortion, Estes creates a highly complex, composite view that heightens reality in a way that is impossible to achieve in a single photograph, but which gives the illusion of freezing a split second. The Photo-Realist movement began in the mid-1960s in America with artists such as Malcolm Morley, Ralph Goings, Chuck Close and Duane Hanson, with Richard Estes at the forefront. Their particular brand of realism was characterised by the sharpness of detail and high finish reminiscent of seventeenth-century Dutch painting.
But Estes' work is not just about clever visual trickery. It is where he points his lens that makes his work so arresting and, in spite of the explicit detail, enigmatic. Unlike his earlier works from the '70s and '80s, which focused on obscure locations rather than well-known landmarks, here he has chosen the Paris Opera House, that opulent triumph of Style Napoleon III immortalised in film and theatre, which is an essential part of the Paris landscape. To build up the picture, Estes would often work with a number of photographs to complete a larger, but unnatural perspective on a scene, and this may be what has happened here. The Opera House is presented without its magnificent dome and statues above the columns. Certainly a sign of artistic licence taken by the artist to maintain balance in the composition, but it could also be a result of the variety of perspectives absorbed into the painting. Here, all things are equal and are made equally interesting: the ornate glory of the Opera House must not overtake the forefront of the picture: the interior of a bus, a woman's back and some comfortable but ordinary parked cars - the familiarlily mundane face of any Western contemporary city. This work also has the potential for narrative - the woman, the journey, the centre of Paris - the possibilities are endless. This marks a radical change from the deserted urban scenes of his earlier work. The figures, and in particular the woman in the orange jacket, are humanity viewed always at a distance, but it is a suggestive comment on man's place in the world and, most importantly, in the picture.
But Estes' work is not just about clever visual trickery. It is where he points his lens that makes his work so arresting and, in spite of the explicit detail, enigmatic. Unlike his earlier works from the '70s and '80s, which focused on obscure locations rather than well-known landmarks, here he has chosen the Paris Opera House, that opulent triumph of Style Napoleon III immortalised in film and theatre, which is an essential part of the Paris landscape. To build up the picture, Estes would often work with a number of photographs to complete a larger, but unnatural perspective on a scene, and this may be what has happened here. The Opera House is presented without its magnificent dome and statues above the columns. Certainly a sign of artistic licence taken by the artist to maintain balance in the composition, but it could also be a result of the variety of perspectives absorbed into the painting. Here, all things are equal and are made equally interesting: the ornate glory of the Opera House must not overtake the forefront of the picture: the interior of a bus, a woman's back and some comfortable but ordinary parked cars - the familiarlily mundane face of any Western contemporary city. This work also has the potential for narrative - the woman, the journey, the centre of Paris - the possibilities are endless. This marks a radical change from the deserted urban scenes of his earlier work. The figures, and in particular the woman in the orange jacket, are humanity viewed always at a distance, but it is a suggestive comment on man's place in the world and, most importantly, in the picture.