Lucian Freud

I recognize I am following the contemporary crowd by accepting Lucian Freud as our greatest artist of my generation. But some things seem so eminently true. I have never been enamoured of the BritArt YBAs such as Damein Hirst and Tracey Emin; they leave me cold. I am far happier with (I admit it) the older generation of Freud and Bacon and Hockney.

Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon are a fascinating pair to me. Bacon is like one too many hits off a Jamaican bong late at night, and Freud is the getting up next morning and eating a hearty breakfast. Bacon was often outrageous, and yet it is Freud who apparently has acknowledged more than 40 illegitimate children.

Anyway, this reverie was sparked by re-reading a fascinating review in the New York Review of Books of three recent publications on the artist. It’s a good read.

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