Here is a first of a serious of articles I’ll be writing about artists that I admire. About artists who somehow touched me and influenced me.
Where we met
I bumped into Amadeo Modigliani’s painting by chance. I recall a couple of decades ago, I was reading a book about Pablo Picasso and there I’ve seen his name for the first time. Since he was a new name for me, I searched him out. The first painting I’ve seen that really impressed was the portrait of Lucia Czechovska. The elongated face resting on a long neck. Very simple but subtle. Not too many colors but enough to capture the lines. Then I kept on going through his rich portfolio. I got hooked. I managed to see some of his work in Milano a few years back. It was a very emotional moment for me. Yes, I admit I cried. Only two other artists have such an effect on me - Vincent van Gogh and Lucien Freud.
His paintings were all of the singular persons. No crowds or couples. He created his own style at the time where a revolution was taking place in the art world. While Picasso was breaking every rule of the then traditional art, Modi, as he was commonly known, brought his Italian influence and merged it with primitive African art. One can also find African influence in Picasso’s works but Modi gave it his imprint and created works that soothed better the eyes and less aggressive than Picasso.
In his short presence on this planet, Modi managed to leave his mark in the art world. He followed his passion and move to Paris as he knew that Paris was the center of creativity and also the center of entertainment. He mingled with other artists of the time and gradually created his individual style. He was not shy of controversy. He wanted to be himself and he painted what he saw within him at the moment. I love his blues like that in The Little Peasant and also the terracotta backgrounds like that in the piece called The Artist’s Wife. Then there was Jeanne, the love of his life who supported him an inspired him in many ways.
His Legacy
His bohemian life was not a healthy one with alcohol and drugs. I am not sure if such substances induced hallucinations that led to his masterpieces. But he was a master of his own world. A master of his passion. Tuberculosis took away his life early. Who knows how many more works would he have painted should he lived a longer life like Picasso or Matisse? His life did not end with his death. It only ended when Jeanne joined him a few days later after his death when she took away her life as she could not bear her life without him.
He lived a tragic life but he is definitely still alive in his works.