What you
notice, before anything else, is that the subjects of Keane`s brush have an
unlikely beauty. They are banners aflutter in the shifting Garfagnana winds,
their allegiances announced in the language of high art: color, form, composition,
kinetic tension. Their subtext is the wonderful diversity of human experience,
ranging from the dizzyingly erotic to the downright practical, and capturing,
as graphically as could be imagined, our collective journey from infant to elderly.
Mutande, their Italian name, is derived from the verb mutare, "to change"
-- and it seems far closer to the remarkably dignified spirit of these paintings
than its giggling English equivalent, "knickers."
Painting,
in its most general definition, is an act of shared observation -- the visual
statement of the painter, in conversation with the visual reactions of an audience.
In that sense, Keane`s "Mutande di Barga" is an essay on the principal
exchange of his art. But it is also an essay on the protocol of observation
itself.
Put simply,
mutande are everywhere in Barga, shouting out our secrets from clotheslines
and drying racks strung in full sight on nearly every home; but the moot understanding
is that they are not supposed to be seen.
Few artifacts
of our material culture say more about us -- more about our bodies, stripped
to their last shield against the naked truth of age and physical decline, more
about our most intimate acts and fantasies. For that very reason, the expectation
is that we will not observe them, in any meaningful way. We will not "read"
them as would an anthropologist or a voyeur.
In Keane`s
own view, the subject of "Mutande" is community, a central motif in
his work for a quarter century, explored from the 20th century housing estates
of his native London to the Ming courtyards of Nanjing, China, and from the
sylvan hamlets of Finland to the fishing villages of Pantelleria island off
the North African coast. Nowhere has he investigated the meaning of community
in greater depth than Barga, his residence for 12 years, documented in hundreds
of paintings and in thousands of photographs. His intention, his obsession,
is to assemble a complete portrait of the town, comprised of individual portraits
of its more than ten thousand people.
Community,
as pictured in this massive undertaking, is about work and leisure, about who
governs and who is governed, about property and its rights, citizenship and
its responsibilities; in short, it is about the explicit, formal contracts that
bind individuals into a group, a society.
Yet community
is also -- and often more powerfully -- about the implicit contracts that bind
us, the unspoken accords. It is about the Mutande of Barga.
Over
the course of a lifetime in a town as small and densely built as this, neighbors
come to know each other more intimately than do many husbands and wives in the
transient suburbs and anonymous highrises of the contemporary urban world. Over
the progression of years recorded by their mutande, the Bargagiani absorb an
infinitely detailed and intuitive version of the portrait that compels Keane;
they grow ever more closely acquainted with their neighbors` acquired habits
and inherited pasts, their loves won and lost, their joys and sorrows.
They
are bound, tightly, in the contract symbolized by those colorful banners waving
from every home, the contract that says, in effect, "va bene, I can hang
my secrets out before your windows, let them take the air and sun, because you
know me -- and I trust you not to look." Frank
Viviano 2005