Clergue Captures Cocteau Nov 29, 2011

By Valerie Gladstone

Lucien Clergue, Yul Brynner and Jean Cocteau, “Testament of Orpheus,” Les Baux de Provence, 1959. Lucien Clergue: Jean Cocteau, The Testament of Orpheus 1959. Curated by James Cavello. Nov. 18–Dec. 31, 2011. Westwood Gallery NYC. © 1959 Lucien Clergue. Courtesy Westwood Gallery NYC.

Lucien Clergue: Jean Cocteau, The Testament of Orpheus 1959 Through Dec. 30, WESTWOOD GALLERY, 568 Broadway, 212-925-5700, www.westwoodgallery.com. Jean Cocteau only directed six films, spending far more energy on his poetry, painting, sculpture and novels. But from The Blood of a Poet (1930) to the great Beauty and the Beast (1946) and his final Testament of Orpheus (1959), he brought poetry, ideas and fantasy into his film work. In Testament of Orpheus, he chronicled his own search for the meaning of art and life, disguising himself as an 18th-century poet. Wanting company on this project, he invited old friends and luminaries to be part of the production, which was shot in Les Baux-de-Provence. A glittery bunch, they included actors from his previous films, like Jean Marais, Maria Casares, Edouard Dermit and Henri Cremieux, as well as Pablo Picasso, Jean-Pierre Leaud, François Truffaut, Yul Brynner, Roger Vadim, Brigitte Bardot and Françoise Sagan. As one can imagine, what went on behind the scenes was often as interesting as what made it to the screen. Fortunately, now-famed photographer Lucien Clergue, who was then only 25, was there to capture much of it. The first New York exhibit of his exquisite gelatin silver prints (Lucien Clergue: Jean Cocteau, The Testament of Orpheus 1959, curated by James Cavello at Westwood Gallery) includes marvelous

portraits, such as the poetic “Jean Cocteau at Milly-la-Forêt” (1959), with the great man elegantly dressed in an overcoat and scarf, standing in front of one of his drawings, his eyes closed as if dreaming of something beautiful. There’s another of Cocteau and Brynner, both debonair men in moody silhouette, the actor dashing in a tuxedo, a cigarette at his lips. A group shot dominated by the ebullient Picasso shows him surrounded by his soon-to-be wife Jacqueline Rocque, bullfighter Luis Dominguez, Cocteau, Serge Lifar and Lucia Bose. They are a happy, animated band of players, all great characters of the time. At least two photos of Cocteau and the Sphinx give some idea of the eccentricity of Cocteau’s vision as he stands against a wall with what look like wings sprouting from his shoulders and bulbous glass eyes. Clergue even shot the bulbous glass eyes affixed to Cocteau’s face. Looking at these photos, one can’t help but think, like the character in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, that those were halcyon days. Perhaps not, but it’s entertaining and enlightening to have Clergue’s images, which allow us to feel that way. An especially artistic photographer, Clergue went on to have a 30-year association with Picasso as well as friendships with artists like Max Ernst, Salvador Dali, Jean Renoir, Roman Polanski, Robert Rauschenberg and Christian Lacroix. He also made art-related films, such as Picasso, War, Love and Peace (1968). Widely exhibited and collected, his works can be found in The Museum of Modern Art, The Boston Museum and The Fogg Museum at Harvard University, among others. Fittingly, the photographs in this show will become part of the permanent collection of a new museum dedicated to Cocteau in Menton, France, not far from where they were shot.

LIGHT BULB ARMOND WHITE 11.30.2011 Nov 29, 2011 By Armond White

Lucien Clergue, “Jean Cocteau on the set of Testament of Orpheus, Nice, 1959” (1959, printed 2001), gelatin silver print, edition of 30 signed, numbered, titled by the artist, 16 x 12 inches. Nov. 18–Dec. 31. Westwood Gallery NYC. @ 1959 Lucien Clergue, courtesy Westwood Gallery NYC.

As Cocteau understood, mixing keeps the arts and the artist from going stale. CityArts takes on the mission of keeping arts culture and those who care about it excited about different approaches to self-expression. A review of culture is always on the lookout for what’s new. If there is a new Cocteau on the horizon, that artist might have to be as interested in dance and theater as in fine arts and digital play. When the new Cocteau appears, CityArts promises to take notice. The On Gaming column by Steve Haske premieres in recognition of new forms of image-making and storytelling. Why? Because, as Cocteau demonstrated, multidisciplinary is the art world’s article of faith. About the cover: Lucien Clergue was only 25 when he photographed Cocteau on the set of his last film The Testament of Orpheus—a brave assertion of artistic ambition. The young devotee captured the old master in stylish profile with actor Yul Brynner as if posing a multileveled tribute: The King and I.

Who is the Cocteau of our era? Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts, but two decades into the new millennium we haven’t yet spotted an artistic multitasker to equal Jean Cocteau, Orson Welles or Melvin Van Peebles. That’s why the Lucien Clergue exhibit that Valerie Gladstone writes about in this issue of CityArts is both timely and haunting. These days, artists scatter to their specialized fields, fearing to cross over into others and face the fresh regard of new audiences. But Cocteau, Welles and Van Peebles—polymaths who could write, direct, draw, perform and provoke—leapt at opportunities to try out new strategies, discover new gifts and encounter new, different audiences. Showing off was how these artists expanded the arts. Their multidisciplinary approach is what CityArts constantly looks for—especially by bringing the traditional arts into the same pages as the pop arts. This issue matches Jay Nordlinger’s assessment of Wagner’s Ring to Howard Mandel’s Baedeker on improvisatory jazz orchestras. Joel Lobenthal’s observation of Merce Cunningham’s dance legacy juxtaposes Kyle Abrahams’ new movements at The Kitchen, while Robert Battle (subject of The CityArts Interview) brings Alvin Ailey’s legacy into a new era.