Lucian Freud: The Painter's Etchings

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He paid tribute to Balakjian’s exceptional knowledge of inks and his sensitive eye for tonal variations: “He was a brilliant master printmaker and Lucian learned a lot from him. Much of what Lucian was able to do with prints later on was because Marc opened up so many more possibilities to him through his technical brilliance. Marc would print off maybe eight or 10 prints, each with a different inking. Then Freud would make his choice, leaving nine, let’s say, that were not to be published … Marc held on to them for reference and, when he died, there they all were.” Its author, Toby Treves, the Tate’s former collections curator of 20th-century British art, said: “There are a couple of really lovely ones where you wonder why he didn’t publish them because they’re great.” Catalogues raisonnés often prove unsatisfactory reading experiences…but this one is a pleasure to read. The essays are approachable, the catalogue entries are thorough, with good commentaries. The works develop logically, with some surprises and tours de force. The large size of the book (35 x 30 cm) allows substantial and detailed illustrations, all of which seem to be newly photographed. This certainly whets the appetite for catalogues of the paintings and drawings and reassures readers that the task is entrusted to safe hands. Publisher and authors have done admirably by one of Britain’s most distinguished artists with this impeccable, rigorous and beautiful book.’ – Alexander Adams, The British Art Journal, vol. XXIII, no. 2, Autumn 2022 Soon, this interest in the human form led the artist to make a number of self-portraits, where the expressive brushstrokes and harsh texture reflect a sense of internal critique and turmoil. For instance, in his famous 1985 Reflection, painted when the artist was 63 years old, the layers of paint highlight Freud’s unflinching approach to his own haggard, sagging skin. It was through Bowery that Freud met Sue Tilley, a British unemployment officer, in 1990. Tilley, known as "Big Sue," posed for Freud numerous times between 1993 and 1996, and soon became one of his most recognizable subjects. Freud had planned to make a painting of Tilley, but when she arrived at his studio badly sunburnt (a violation of the artist's rule that all his subjects avoid the sun during the time they pose for him), he decided to make the etching Woman with an Arm Tattooinstead.

Starr Figura, Lucian Freud: The Painter’s Etchings, exhibition catalogue, Museum of Modern Art, New York 2007, pp.30, 137, print from the main edition of forty-six reproduced cat.78, pl.108. Freud briefly studied at the Central School of Art in London, and from 1939 to 1942 with greater success at Cedric Morris' East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing in Dedham, relocated in 1940 to Benton End, a house near Hadleigh, Suffolk. He also attended Goldsmiths' College, part of the University of London, in 1942–43. He served as a merchant seaman in an Atlantic convoy in 1941 before being invalided out of service in 1942. Calvocoressi, Richard (1997). Early Works: Lucian Freud. Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. ISBN 0-903598-66-3 Although Lucian Freud, the grandson of Sigmund Freud, worked in an era largely dominated by nonobjective art and more conceptual practices, he avoided abstraction and chose instead to create work that would challenge notions of what representational art could be. He considered all of his works to be portraits, whether they were of people, books, landscapes, dogs, or horses; this expansive definition allowed him to redefine and revitalize the genre throughout a career spanning seven decades. Freud was born in Berlin in 1922. His father was the Jewish architect Ernst Freud; his grandfather was psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. In 1933 the family fled to Britain. Freud studied at the East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing in Dedham, as well as Goldsmith’s College in London. His early work had a sharp, surreal quality, often consisting of still lifes and landscapes.Etching involved collaboration. Freud was introduced to Balakjian by the artist Celia Paul in 1986, and Balakjian went on to process and print Freud’s plates for the rest of his life (even when, after an outburst, Freud switched technicians for the biting of his plates, he returned to Balakjian for the proofing). The partnership appears to have encouraged Freud to go further. ‘It was stimulating to give Marc the plate and see what he would make of it,’ he told the curator Starr Figura. Balakjian would make several proofs, sometimes on different papers, and wait for Freud to choose between them. Anyone who has a chance to see Balakjian’s prints in person will notice not only their technical sumptuousness but the subtle way in which he introduced a tonal warmth to Freud’s harsh lines. A 2015 essay by Balakjian, who died in 2017, is included in the catalogue raisonné, and a set of 142 printer’s proofs showing different stages of work was acquired from his estate by the Victoria and Albert Museum in 2019. Currently on view in the Robert Wood Johnson, Jr. Gallery are works on paper by Lucian Freud and Brice Marden. Although these artists are widely acclaimed for their work in other media, prints play a critical role in their oeuvres. Both artists avidly explored possibilities for printmaking, often developing ideas and innovations that they then applied to work in other media. Their engagement with printmaking—etching in particular—was not only important for the artists, but also had a significant impact on the medium itself by offering up new possibilities. Sharp, Jasper (2013). Lucian Freud (Exhibition Catalogue of the Kunsthistorisches Museum Vienna). Prestel. ISBN 978-3-7913-5332-6

Lucian Michael Freud ( ; 8 December 1922 – 20 July 2011) was a British painter and draughtsman, specialising in figurative art, and is known as one of the foremost 20th-century English portraitists. He was born in Berlin, the son of Jewish architect Ernst L. Freud and the grandson of Sigmund Freud. Freud got his first name "Lucian" from his mother in memory of the ancient writer Lucian of Samosata. His family moved to England in 1933, when he was 10 years old, to escape the rise of Nazism. He became a British naturalized citizen in 1939. From 1942 to 1943 he attended Goldsmiths' College, London. He served at sea with the British Merchant Navy during the Second World War.Lauter, Rolf (ed.): Lucian Freud: Naked Portraits. Werke der 40er bis 90er Jahre [Lucian Freud: Naked Portraits. Works from the 1940s to the 1990s], Museum für Moderne Kunst, Frankfurt am Main, 29.09.2000-04.03.2001. ISBN 9783775790437 The inducement to restart his etching career came from Lawrence Gowing, who had written a monograph on Freud. The deluxe edition of 100 copies of the book, Gowing requested, should contain one of four etchings printed in an edition of 25. Upon returning to etching, having spent so many years in which he had only painted, Freud found his line was looser and more gestural. Thus encouraged, printmaking almost replaced the role of drawings in his work for a period. By the end of 1982, Freud had added 15 etchings to his total. Not all were published, as some were the exploratory works of an artist seeking to regain his confidence in the medium. These efforts helped assuage Freud’s concerns over the effect of the graphic arts upon his painting, although by this time his doubts could have retained little foundation: Freud’s now familiar, heavily impastoed style of painting must have been unassailable. If anything Freud’s etchings had become closer to his paintings, especially considering Freud rarely drew with any material, by this time, other than charcoal. Freud was soon ready to make etchings on a grander scale. Lucian Freud made his first etching in Paris in 1946, using the wash-basiz in his hotel room as an acid bath. Five small-scale etchings date from this decade, following which Freud ceased printmaking for thirty-four years. Thereafter, beguiled by its ‘element of danger and mystery’, he steadily created an impressive contribution to the medium.1

Ayers, Robert (18 December 2007). "Curator's Voice: Starr Figura on Lucian Freud's Etchings". BLOUINARTINFO . Retrieved 23 April 2008. In the beginning I used to run around, get the paints in, make sure canvases were primed. Now I still do that but then you become more of a friend, more involved in the work. I’m always talking about what I think of his paintings as they’re progressing. We have big discussions. We’re quite good mates.The following evening I bumped into Esther in person. On another occasion I might have been more circumspect, knowing nothing about the feelings of Freud’s many children towards their father’s work. But, discombobulated by the coincidence, I asked her about the portrait. She said she had it at home somewhere, not on display, and had never liked it. ‘I felt my father had seen what I was trying to hide, that I was unhappy,’ she wrote to me afterwards. ‘It was that pivotal age, 27/28, when life often shifts you from one stage to another, and can be very uncomfortable. I’d developed an allergy to a medication and my skin had flared up, which had stopped my acting career, such as it was, and forced me to focus on writing, something I’d been trying to avoid doing. I’d hoped the scars of all this didn’t show, but he saw them. Which also shows how enticing it was to sit for him. Because even though I felt self-conscious about my appearance, the very act of sitting was irresistible.’ These large-scale works exemplify the character of Freud’s prints as a whole. At first they seem bleak, merciless; after a while they begin to suggest a more compassionate inquiry, recalling Bernard’s observation that Freud’s work tests, but ultimately increases, our capacity to bear reality. Freud, who had been an avid gambler, often claimed he enjoyed making etchings because the process of transforming the design he created on a copper plate into a print on paper involved so many elements of chance—or what he called "mystery." He had exacting standards for his etchings and, if he was not satisfied with a section, he would wipe out the area and begin again—a process that involved additional sessions with the subjects—or even abandon the print entirely. Yet he embraced unintentional marks transferred from the plate to the print and the multiple lines that reveal modifications made to the figure and the composition, perhaps seeing such marks as evidence of imperfections inherent in all creations. Feaver, William (1996). Lucian Freud: Paintings and Etchings. Abbot Hall Art Gallery. ISBN 0-9503335-7-3