As for everything, you have to be worth to be a transgressor. Otherwise the thing remains in a bland and naive attempt to stand out from a mediocrity that ends up being its own. In the case of Franck maubert, with its appearance between a Joaquín Sabina entered in kilos and a Houellebecq fresh from the hairdresser, insolence comes as a punishment and distributes it left and right with the mastery of someone who has learned to live with it despite everything.
This is how the true pose of the challenging and puzzling is made. Only guys like Maubert know that they are going to tell you the world at their whim. And just someone like Maubert will whisper to you the mysteries of art and the random encounters between inspirations, passions, sweats and other fevers that end up leading to the most physical art.
Reality and fiction intertwine like DNA chains in a world of the artistic, the pictorial or the sculptural, where the human being looks for replicas between paintings or carved stones; where the kindest dreams and the most frenzied nightmares seek channels of expression.
Top 3 recommended books by Franck Maubert
The latest model
Contemplation of the art of a portrait, of the most disturbing undressing or of the detail of the gaze that never leaves you. That is the vision of this book from the moment to be retained on the canvas, from the woman who assaults the artist's imagination to end up being muse, motive and madness.
Caroline, a young independent and carefree prostitute, meets the great Alberto Giacometti in 1958, who is intrigued and taken by the strange young woman who is soon the only woman he wants to contemplate. The twenty-year-old girl will end up becoming his goddess, his "excess" and his latest model; not even Marlene Dietrich will be able to displace it from the studio or from the artist's heart. Fascinating pages in which Maubert gives voice to the woman who loved the great sculptor of the twentieth century, his madness, his "Grisaille".
The man who walks
Left to his own devices, the Vitruvian man, the man who walks seems to move away from all canons to find new measures in the gaze of the bewildered observer. Nobody knows where he is going, but he is determined, marching forward as if fighting very strong winds. The sign of the times of the human being in this strange XXI century, only anticipated as a vanguard in its creation of the last century.
Franck Maubert traces the circumstances in which the sculpture was conceived and discovers that, beyond the meaning it acquired after the devastation of the Second World War, the work has transcended its time and dialogues so much with the most primitive manifestations of human civilization as with the men and women of today and tomorrow.
The smell of human blood does not leave my eyes
As incoherent as it is hurtful at the same time, that is what the artistic avant-gardes are about even in the title of a book. That is why some create art while others are only capable of showing you their slops with pretense of great creation, always after the thick explanation on duty. And of course the eccentricity of the artist is important, be it Dalí or Francis Bacon. Because of the creator, the work, and its image and its meaning.
«From now on, in my eyes, Francis Bacon was to embody painting more than any other artist. Since those times of youth, his painting would never leave me. Because he gets attached to you, he lives in you, with you. A torment that clings and doesn't let go of you anymore. His characters in general crisis, moral crisis, physical crisis, as the English critic John Russell writes, live next to you and remind you incessantly that life is that tight rope stretched between birth and death.
That life that gives you exacerbated visions, a neighbor in a hospital, an asylum. The nightmare is near: pains, screams, a body folded in on itself, focused on contortions, even suffering. The terror remains there, installed in those characters who howl in silence. A cruelty displayed and visible, revealed by those men boarded up in a spatial painting ».
