The reality of our form
Jenny Saville is a living master of painting. When people bitch about how the fine art scene sucks, I bring out books of her work. It’s enough to shut anyone up. If you aren’t familiar with Francis Bacon’s heir apparent and her HUGE flesh morphing, stunning, jaw dropping paintings, then I am proud to introduce you to her. Saville reduces us to meat, reminds us that we are mere chunks of bloody, sweaty, fat flesh. When you are confronted by one of these 10′ plus figures staring down at you from an awkward highly foreshortened perspective, you have no choice but to bow your head.
Long live the new flesh.