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On one wall hung a coloured print of some creature who might have been a girl

had the head not been cleft down to the shoulders; she was bald, her eyes were

closed, her profile was superimposed on one half of her face, and she was kissing

herself in her mouth. And she had eleven fingers. I stared at the picture

dumbfounded.

(…)He said, “A picture is not a girl, even though it is the picture of a girl. One can

even say that the more closely a picture resembles a girl, the further it is from

being a girl. Everyone wants to sleep with a girl, but no one wants to sleep with the

image of a girl. Even an exact wax model of Cleopatra has no bloodstream, and no

vagina. You do not like the eleventh finger, but now I shall tell you something: the

eleventh finger takes the place of these two things.”

When he said this he looked at me and laughed. Then he leaned over me and

whispered, “Now, I am going to let you into the most remarkable secret of all: the

image of Cleopatra which resembles her more closely than all other images, namely

the person that has just walked through this room and into the kitchen to makesome coffee – she of course has a bloodstream and many other nice things, but

even so, she is the furthest of all from being Cleopatra. Nothing tells one less about

Cleopatra than this apparently haphazard but yet logical biochemical synthesis.

Even the man who celebrates a silver wedding anniversary with her after twenty-

five years of marriage will not know more about her than the one who lay with her

for half an hour, or than you who see her for a few seconds crossing the room; the

fact is, she is not even a likeness of herself. And this is what the artist knows; and

that is why he paints her with eleven fingers.” Note: Cleopatra is the character that entered

the room, not the Egyptian Queen.

In this house there hung, so to speak, mountains and mountains and yet more

mountains, mountains with glacial caps, mountains by the sea, ravines in

mountains, lava below mountains, birds in front of mountains and still more

mountains; until finally these wastelands had the effect of a total flight from

habitation, almost a denial of human life. I would not dream of trying to argue that

this was not art, especially since I do not have the faintest idea what art is; but if

this was art, it was foremost the art of those who had sinned against humanity and

fled into wilderness, the art of outlaws. Quite apart from how debased Nature

becomes in a picture, nothing seems to me to express so much contempt for Natureas a painting of Nature. I touched the waterfall and did not get wet, and there was

no sound of a cascade; over there was a little cloud, standing still instead of

breaking up; and if I sniffed that mountain slope I bumped my nose against a

congealed mass and found only a smell of chemicals, at best a sniff of linseed oil;

and where were the birds? And the flies? And the sun, so that one’s eyes were

dazzled? Or the mist, so that one only saw a faint glimmer of the nearest willow

shrub? Yes, certainly this was meant to be a farmhouse, but where, pray, was the

smell of cow dung? What is the point of making a picture which is meant to be like

Nature, when everyone knows that this is the one thing which a picture cannot be

and should not be and must not be? Who thought up that Nature is a matter of sightalone? Those who know Nature hear it rather than see it, feel it rather than hear it;

YEAR 12 – What is art?

January 2010

Worksheet 2



smell it, good heavens, yes – but first and foremost eat it. Certainly Nature is in

front of us, and behind us; Nature is under and over us, yes, and in us; but most

particularly it exists in time, always changing and always passing, never the same;

and never in a rectangular frame.

The Atom Station by Halldór Laxness (Vintage, 2004)(pp. 11 / 37 & 38-39).

Before you start, make sure you read through the instructions and that you

understand them.

Read the two extracts from The Atom Station in which the concept of art is

discussed. The narrator is a young woman who was born and raised in the country,

‘in the north’, and is now a servant at an MP’s house in the capital of Iceland,

Reykjavík.

To start with it is important that the meaning is clear so check your understanding

of the text. Then you’ll be able to discuss more abstract concepts.

Extract 1 – 45’

1. Take some time to look up the words you do not know. Write them down,

preferably in context.

2. Lines 1-4– Draw your own version of the woman in the picture.

3. Underline all comparisons and rephrase them.

4. Raise your left hand if you’ve understood all instructions so far. Raise your right

hand if you have not understood all instructions so far. Do it now.

5. “and that is why he paints her with eleven fingers” (lines 18-19). Explain what

is meant in your own words.

6. Will you now think twice before you dismiss a picture you do not immediately

understand? Explain.

7. Stand up and take a look at the pictures that are on the table, by the teacher.

Later, you will have to pick out one and write about it (question 15)

Extract 2 - 45’

8. Look up the words you do not know. Write them down, preferably in context

9. List the girl’s arguments (lines 8-15) as why Nature does not belong in a frame.

Organize them in a table or diagram.

10. Would you agree that painting Nature is synonymous with being

contemptuous of Nature? (line 7).

11. In your opinion, does Nature belong in a ‘rectangular frame’?

WORK ALONE



12. Why, do you think, does the girl say she has no idea of what art is. Do you

believe her? Explain.

13. Now that you can picture in your mind the paintings she is talking about…

are they art? Explain.

Final tasks - 45’

14. In your opinion are extracts 1 and 2 contradictory or overlapping?

15. Your final task is to write a short essay about one of the pictures you saw

before (question 7). You’ll be given more specific instructions next lesson.

Clear your throat and announce to the class “This was a brilliant exercise. Now I

am ready to start”.



Weeping woman

Pablo Picasso

1937

http://www.artquotes.net/masters/picasso/picasso_weeping1937.jpg

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