Hidden in Plain Sight: Legerdemain and Fowl Play

in the Work of a Great  American Artist,  Leonard Baskin 

 

Tyrannus, limited edition print by artist Leonard Baskin, dated 1982.

 

 

Preface

To those familar with the oeuvre (body of work) of the renowned American figurative printmaker, sculptor, illustrator and founder of the highly esteemed Gehenna Press--a private, limited edition publishing house--the fact that Leonard Baskin was fascinated by birds is no secret. Feathers and fowl, you might say,  flock throughout Baskin's work. Quite often, avian attributes, wings, beaks, or claws are combined, in one form or another with otherwise human figures, as in the Great Birdman.

 

In high school, those of us with literary interests learned to use the word anthropomorphic to describe elements of the world that artists or writers imbued with human characteristics. Baskin, who was after all a professor of art, teaches us the antonym of anthropomorphic: zoomorphic.  Zoomorphism, according to the American Heritage Dictionary online, is the...

 

  1. Attribution of animal characteristics or qualities to a god.
  2. Use of animal forms in symbolism, literature, or graphic representation.


In Baskin's work, as you will see, human or human-like figures obtain the characteristics of animals and specifically, birds.  Is this something new, something altogether amazing? By no means! Human beings have imagined such things long before angels dropped from heaven on wings and will undoubtedly continue to do so.

 

For example, just now my younger contemporaries are all agog with the joys of "body art," or what I grew up calling "tatoos."  Naturally, you will have noticed snakes, fish, lions, and birds among the many images with which body art lovers are covering themselves. Imprinting oneself with the image of an animal is only slightly different, conceptually, from the intentions of American Indians, for example, who named themselves for specific animals. In some cases, they apparently believed that by doing battle with and killing powerful beasts, then eating or wearing parts of the those animal bodies--think bear claws or eagle feathers--that they were absorbing some of those beings' juju.

 

Sound unfamiliar? Try these cliches on for size. Strong as an ox. Heart of a lion (King Richard the Lion-hearted). Eagle-eyed. Wise as an owl. And last, but not least... bird brain! That's zoomorphism.

 

Come to think of it, my local professional baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks, is also symbolically laying claim to what we might call "lower" powers by assuming the name of a deadly desert viper.

 

So the mere fact that artist Leonard Baskin (1922 -2000) played in the same sandbox as the rest of us is surely neither particularly enlightening nor novel. Pssst! It's what he does with the material and the way he does it that captured the respect of several generations of artists and art lovers during his lifetime.

 

First, a borrowed description of the artist's work and life...


"Leonard Baskin (1922 -2000) is best known for his large relief prints of distorted human figures that were cut into large sheets of plywood as well as for his sculpture. Born the son of Rabbi Samuel Baskin and May Guss Baskin in New Brunswick, New Jersey, religious symbolism and the nature of human life and suffering were themes of his work." (Catalog of the Maryville College exhibition: The Fine Art Print)

 

 

 

 

 

 

quite often combined with anthropomorphic qualities,

 

It seems that artist Leonard Baskin (1922-2000)-a -had something to hide. This seems rather odd, given his huge output of works of art and books. It's even odder considering that he hid his secret in plain sight.

 

Recently, Phoenix resident Glenn Michaels, who owns an edition of the 6' x 39" Baskin print, Tyrannus, was shocked when a second image seemed to leap out of the structure of the primary image. At first glance, the print, dated 1982, seems to depict a brutal, frightening man in a somewhat abstract fashion.

 


 

At first glance

 

The title, Tyrannus, suggests that Baskin was alluding to the ancient Greek literary classic, Oedipus The King (Greek: Oedipus Tyrannus orOedipus Rex) by Sophocles. (It recounts the story of Oedipus, who unknowingly killed his father and later married his mother, with whom he then had children. Upon learning that he had murdered his father and fathered children with his mother, Oedipus gouged out his own eyes. )

 

Baskin's approach to figurative art did not allow literal reality to obscure figurative truth. We recognize the power emanating from the image although nothing about it could be called "visually" realistic.

 

In Baskin's body of prints, there are a large number in which one notes a clear emotional and stylistic relationship to the work of early 20th Century German Expressionist artists. Tyrannus is a typical example.

 

Woodbloc Print: Prophet, by Emil Nolde (1867-1956)

 

This is one of a number of famous German Expressionist prints.

It was created by artist Emil Nolde (1867-1956) and is titled: Prophet.

Note the emotional impact generated by the radical abstraction. Nolde took advtantage of the grain of the wood to increase the raw power of the image.

 

 

German Expressionist art was "rediscovered" and reevaluated in the aftermath of World War II. This was, at least partially, because the work of these artists had been anathema to the Nazi regime, which described it as "degenerate." The Nazis subsequently burned or sold much of the Expressionist work that in German and Austrian museums after they came into power.

 

The Tyrannus print exudes brutality and bestiality. The male figure is massive, powerful and frightening. The image is 72" x 39". Not unlike a real tyrant, the image dominates the space in which it resides, just as it fills the frame.

 

Perhaps it isn't coincidence that this is a black and white image. The tyrant is shown as tyrants are often reputed to see reality: in black and white. "With me or against me."

 

Now look again!

 

"One morning, as I walked out of the kitchen into the dining room, where the print is located, the image of a large, black bird, designed into the hip and thigh of the figure, seemed to leap out at me," Michaels says.

 

Michaels  has owned the print for nearly 10 years and sits right beside it when he eats breakfast and dinner. He had the print in clear view every day for years. "I guess that's why I was so surprised. You just don't expect an image you think that you're familiar with to be filled with unexpected content. It seemed to turn observed reality inside out."

 

But that's not the half of it. The image turns out to be either a puzzle or a Rorschach inkblot, or a bit of both.

Thus, it would come as no surprise to you that Michaels's discovery may not be so obvious to you as it now seems to him.

 

Remember the "how many can you find" puzzle pictures that once appeared commonly in American daily newspapers? The idea was to see how many "hidden" objects could be identified in what, at first, seemed a conventional image.

 

Perhaps Baskin couldn't resist the opportunity to make his own picture puzzle.

 

Scottsdale, Arizona, art dealer William Bishop, owner of the Bishop Gallery, was a friend of Baskin. He sold the Tyrannus print to Michaels and the original wood block to another Phoenix area art lover. But he wasn't aware of the hidden image(s) either, Michaels says.

 

In fact, Michaels believes that no one has yet remarked upon this curious juxtaposition of images and ideas.

 

Here  is the image that first popped out at Michaels. To find it, look closely at the left hip and thigh.

 

The first bird I noticed (I)

 

Could this just be coincidence, as several people suggested? Try flipping the image on its side, thus:

 

The first bird I noticed (II)

 

Michaels concluded that this image was too bird-like to have been a pure accident. The image fits perfectly into the overall design. It even appears Baskin even "drew" in a leg and foot (which become a scrotum when viewed right side up). 

 

Those less familiar with Baskin may appreciate knowing that he made a great many pieces whose titles included the word Birdman, and many more in which the word Raptor plays a role.

 

(Raptor: n.   A bird of prey. [Latin, one who seizes, from rapere, to seize; see rapt.] )

 

Here, a paragraph on the artist by Megan Voeller in CreativeLoafing.com, dated 09.27.06, in regard to an exhibit of his work at the Leepa-Rattner Museum of Art in Tarpon Springs, Florida.

 

"If you're familiar with the art of Leonard Baskin, chances are his name evokes the distinctive delicate-but-grotesque style with which he depicted flora, fauna and humankind in some rather existentially fraught moments. His iconic series of birdman images, for instance -- somber hybrid creatures sporting avian heads, wings and beaks paired with human legs, torsos and genitals -- is hard to forget."

 

Unlike the standard observer, the artist likely had the chance to see the image from all directions as he worked on it. Consequently, it's not hard to imagine that he might have been stimulated or inspired to see "other" images by the grain of the woodblock into which the image was cut. You might call it a "Rorschach effect."

 

If Baskin hid one image in the print, Michaels wondered, might he have hidden others? Michaels believes he did. "I think I have identified a number of images," Michaels says. "But most are more abstract than the first one and I might be reading more into the image than is really there."

 

Baskin or Rorschach?

 

Now look at the more abstracted image in the thigh on the viewer's right. Could that be a bird's head, seen profile, turning left?

 

Notice the head and beak shape, circled in orange

near the top of the image

 

 

How about this one? It appears to be a small bird hiding in the grass or on a branch to me. The wing seems clearly delineated,  folded over the rest of the body. 

 

 

This image is located in the arm on the left side of the figure, directly across from the first bird I identified.

 

Immediately below, two even more abstract birds are depicted. One (A) overlaps the other (B). The bill of the first (A, circled in orange dots) points to the top of the shoulder. A small white spot indicates the eye. A second white fleck, above and to the left, suggests a head crest. (The vertical image has been flipped to the right.)

 

Bird A

The orange arrow points to the "bill." 

 

The eye and bill of the second bird  (B) are white (near the top of this section. There is a striated wing shape on the right, starting at the middle of the section, which comes to a point near the bottom of the section. It isn't clear whether the white shapes on the middle to lower left could be read as a wing.

 

Bird B

 

 

In the rotated version of the same image, the bird's head and beak again appear in profile, looking left. The wing on the left appears to be lifted. The beak of Bird A could possibly be seen as the opposite wing. In any case, this does seem to generate a more logical view of Bird B.

 

Are there yet other images buried within this figure? How about a cat?

Cat 1

 

This "cat silhouette" is actually the breast on the viewer's left. Is that a tail wrapping around the body?

 

Is it possible to pull another cat out of Baskin's "hat?"

  Cat 2

 

With Cat #2, an orange line indicates where you might expect to see the feline's ears. In fact, they must be inferred by the eye of the viewer. Observers will also have to complete the bottom of the "cat's" resting body in their minds' eye (Note the authors long, curved orange line). The "tail" is the white shape that points to the middle of the section, on the right. This section was also flipped horizontally, to the right. In the original image, this Cat 2 resides in the stomach; the "tail" points to the top of the sternum.

 

Does anyone else see a "fish" with a wide open mouth here?

 

 

 

Have your doubts about these images? There is apparently no "proof" that Baskin intended to hide highly abstract images in this print.  So you might try seeing this as a sort of intentional Rorschach image.

 

Does it still seem too much a stretch? Consider that Baskin would certainly have been familiar with surrealist art, in particular the work of Dali and Miro, in which images were also frequently hidden within images.  For that matter, the same is true of much cubist art.

 

A 1939 drawing by Jacques Lipchitz (Plate 112) in Modern Prints and Drawings, written by Paul A Sachs, is entitled "Mother and Child (Bull's Head). This very abstract image turns the upraised arms of the mother into the horns of the "bull." Without the title to guide us, we would be hard put to identify either the mother or the bull.

 

Baskin could very possibly have taken a similar liberty for an entirely different reason.

 

Hands On? Or Off?

 

Ok, last stop: the tyrant's hands.

 

It seems possible that Baskin might have offered some hints about his message by hiding Hebrew letters in the figure's hands.

 

Until confirmation is received from someone who is expert in Hebrew, this remains a supposition. (A friend has indicated that she sees multiple letters, but hasn't yet suggested what they mean.)

 

Take a look at the figure's left hand (found on the right side of the print).

 

Left Hand

 

The arrows indicate what might be Hebraic text. Now examine the figure's right hand.

 

                                                                             Right Hand

 

The circle indicates what looks like some sort of character or cipher. The arrows point to other shapes that seem to suggest text.

 

It Means What?

 

Is it just coincidence that a common synonym for birds is "fowl?" Is it just coincidence that "fowl" has a homonym (foul) whose definition includes "grossly offensive in a moral sense; abominable, wicked, or vile, as deeds, crime, slander, etc.?"

 

Maybe, maybe not. Baskin was intensely literate. He was multi-lingual (English, Hebrew, Italian, and possibly Yiddish and other languages) wrote poetry.

 

 (Ge·hen·na: 1. The valley of Hinnom, near Jerusalem, where propitiatory sacrifices were made to Moloch.[II Kings 23:10.] 2.  HELL (def. 1). 3.) any place of extreme torment or suffering.)

 

Oedipus, says Sophocles, brought such dishonor upon the kingdom he ruled, that he was forced to abdicate his throne (he was a king).  He became the very incarnation of foul  behavior.

 

On the other hand, what is a tyrant if not a foul aberration of all that an American artist might cherish? It is hard to imagine that an artist whose mature artistic life developed in the wake of World War II could avoid confronting the demonic presence, the human incarnation of evil. Given that Baskin was Jewish, the son of an orthodox Rabbi (teacher), and that war just ended had also quite nearly resulted in the extirpation of all of his coreligionists in Europe by the Nazi regime, it is impossible to doubt that he was deeply affected by impact of despotism on his own community.

 

Then again, within the text of Oedipus Tyrannus there are multiple references to the power of birds to carry omens and prophecy.

 

What about the cats? Your guess is as good as anyon else's. 

 

For example: Domestic cats prey on birds. Cute though they may appear-and mine are darned cute-they can be fierce predators, too. On the other hand, birds are sometimes seen as symbols of freedom because of their ability to fly wherever they want.

 

And if there were a fish in this image, what would that tell us?  It's just another reason this Baskin image is so interesting, so perplexing.

 

While Michaels's discovery won't rattle the art world, it does generate several intriguing questions. Did Baskin really "hide" images within this powerful print? If so, why? What was Baskin trying to suggest? Or was it just a test of sorts; perhaps a private game?

 

 If nothing else, Michaels says, Baskin found a way to keep an average art lover interested in looking at his work. "When an image becomes an enigma, it also comes alive in the imagination. Perhaps that was Baskin's real goal: to create a piece of art as puzzling, as alive, as people themselves."

 

Is there a better way to create enduring interest in an image and its meaning than to transform it into a puzzle for which there is no clear cut answer? Oh that inscrutable, enigmatic Baskin!

 

Glenn Scott Michaels

Phoenix, Arizona

May 28, 2007. Phoenix, AZ: