Sunday, bloody Sunday / A thinking woman sleeps with monsters

“Everything I do,” Louise Bourgeois said, “was inspired by my early life.”

Born in 1911, the French-American sculptor grew up in Choisy-le-Roi, just outside Paris. At a young age, Bourgeois took on the role of nurse to her mother, who succumbed to Spanish Flu after WWI, and at age 11, Bourgeois witnessed her father’s affair with their live-in English tutor, Sadie Gordon Richmond. These combined events left the artist with life-long psychological scars, memories that forged Bourgeois’ unique and disturbing oeuvre of giant spider sculptures and poured-plastic body parts.

Bourgeois’ experience was her art
Art was Bourgeois’ tool for coping. “I need to make things. The physical interaction with the materials has a curative effect. I need the physical acting out, I need to have these objects in relation to my body.” For her, “art is a guarantee of sanity.” Her works are naked and often anxious reflections of her unconscious.

L BourgeoisBourgeois was in psychoanalysis for 30 years
Bourgeois’ childhood traumas relate to her fear of abandonment, stemming from her mother’s illness and death, her father’s infidelities and the horrors of the first world war. Believing that she should somehow take her deceased mother’s place in her father’s affections, Bourgeois acted out the classic Freudian dilemma in extremis. In 1951, suffering from depression after her father’s death, she entered therapy. Despite profound skepticism, knowing that art was her direct access to the unconscious, Bourgeois craved the self-knowledge that therapy gave her and would undergo analysis up to four times a week. Her doctor’s death in 1982 ended the analysis, and the results are ambiguous. After 30 years of therapy, she never stilled her demons, nor dented her obsessive need to make art.

“I am my work,” she declared. “I am not what I am as a person.”

Bourgeois ran amazing salons
Bourgeois left Paris for New York in 1938, soon after marrying art historian Robert Goldwater. In 1962, the couple moved to Chelsea, setting up home in a  brownstone Chelsea apartment at 347 West 20th Street, which would be her residence for the rest of her life. Beginning in the 1970s, Bourgeois hosted Sunday salons at home where, for the next thirty years, students and young artists would come and talk about their work. Entry was open to all, with Bourgeois’ number publicly listed. “There were only two rules,” said Gorovoy. “You can’t have a cold, and you have to bring your work.” Bourgeois held these salons, which she dryly referred to as “Sunday, bloody Sunday”, on a weekly basis until her death in 2010, at the age of 98. Adapting to her environment with age, in her nineties the artist sat atop a wooden box and a pillow, to raise her high enough for her visitors to see her.

Bourgeois kept an extraordinary journal
Like drawing, writing was a compulsion for Bourgeois. She kept journals throughout her life, believing that “you can stand anything if you write it down… words put in connection and can open up new relations.” The three types of diaries – written, spoken (into a tape recorder), and drawing offer a glimpse into Bourgeois’ psychological states. “Diaries mean that I keep my house in order,” she said. Free associations and doodles suggest clues as to the personal relationships and conflicts that inform all her work, and seem to offer direct links to her creative process. In 1992, she wrote, “The work of art is limited to an acting out, not an understanding. If it were understood, the need to do the work would not exist anymore… Art is a guaranty of sanity but not liberation.”louise

18 thoughts on “Sunday, bloody Sunday / A thinking woman sleeps with monsters

  1. Ha, what an interesting encounter with a woman I didn’t know. Now I want to find out more, thanks for introducing her to me, Luana.
    Klem, Dina x

      • Do you know why I did remember her yesterday?? because of my messy kitchen. Don’t laugh please. I suffer headaches on Sundays, that is why my kitchen was messy. I just looked at and told myself ” you are not Louise.. you must clean around here!” :). Instead of cleaning, I was searching around some material and posted about her. Later on, I also cleaned my kitchen.
        Ok, now you can laugh.

      • Sundays are days or rest! ouch! that is WHY I have headaches! I am not able to rest!
        (Ps I may be a sort of silly alpha personality… Or??)
        Tonight I am terrible.

      • We all have the terrible days inside us. But beauty is the answer to them. You are beautiful, you see beauty, you capture it and hold it up for all to see. You are a miracle of joy. Be well, Brenda

      • Hm…. now I am melting 🙂
        I am just someone very in love, floating into a complicate situation at the moment. What about YOUR beauty instead? I still remember something like “Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.”… Isn’t it?

        Come over and we will talk about.

      • What shall we have while we talk of poetry? A cup of chai with cinnamon, honey, ginger, bay leaf and star anise. Dark chocolate drizzled over blueberries and vanilla ice cream. And a favorite volume of poetry. Maybe a notebook for our own ideas. What bliss. Makes me feel 20 again, when my time was my own. 🙂 One day I hope to come to Italy. It’s a dream right now.

  2. What a life…and I love the idea that into her nineties she still gave, learned, taught and truly lived. What a woman, and thank you for bringing her life to our attention. And then the peeling of the tangerine, BRILLIANT. I have my next joke/story to say at dinner in China (where tangerines are always the snack of joke…) and while she did not enjoy the joke, it is a good one 🙂

    • THAT joke was somehow traumatic for her, but yes, absoultely brilliant :). Once she said: ” after 50 years, after 50 years, I who never cry – it still hurts”. The pain caused by this “joke” went with her when she died.
      You should see “The French Trilogy”…. That woman had everything: intensity, personality, strenght, passion. Her art will speak for her – always.
      PS wonder if you will find a little Louise in China.. let me know how it goes :).

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