What do you think?
Rate this book


432 pages, Paperback
First published August 16, 2016



Even so, the contrast between the left and right sides of Bacon's distinctive, pear-shaped head is odd—and becomes more so the longer you study it. The right (Bacon's right), cast lightly in shadow, is a study in placidity. Over on the left, however, everything is slipping and sliding about. An S-shaped lick of hair—you can count the strands—casts a dashing shadow on Bacon's brow. The whole left side of his mouth twists upward, triggering a pouchy swelling, like the body's response to a sting, at the corner of the mouth. A sheen of sweat shines from that corner of his nose. Even the left ear seems to convulse and squirm. Most striking of all is the way Bacon's left eyebrow extends its powerful arabesque into the furrow at the center of his forehead. This has nothing to do with "realism" if you take that term literally; no eyebrow behaves this way. But it's the engine that powers the whole portrait, just as the portrait itself is the key to the story of the most interesting, fertile—and volatile—relationship in British art of the twentieth century.Is this better than the pithy description by Robert Hughes: "the silent intensity of a grenade in the millisecond before it goes off"? Perhaps, because it adds detail—though I wish Smee had added it to more of the other pictures he mentions in this text-heavy book, and he could do with more of Hughes' incisive urgency. He also offers the portrait as yet another unsolved mystery: who stole it from an exhibition in Berlin in 1988, and why? Ultimately, what most interests Smee is not the portrait, but the relationship and the stories that surround it. He will attract many readers who have exactly the same priorities; pure art lovers, not so much.