Visual Propaganda #14: Barry Burman

The power electronics of late-'20th Century British painting

According to most anecdotal testimonies, the late-’20th Century British painter Barry Burman was a lovely guy. When he took an overdose and died in 2001, he left behind an adoring wife, many reverent friends, and hordes of people who had nothing but kind words for the overlooked but respected artist. The kindness that he demonstrated in his private life might appear to clash with the brutality of the imagery in his paintings, which often gave visual forms to the reported crimes of the likes of Ed Gein or Jack the Ripper, but I know this to be untrue. The reality of a contradiction like this is that behavioral gentility is a wise method for developing a buffer between the artist and the art. I know this method all too well. What allows me to document hatred for liberals, fictionalize heroin addiction, or mythologize autogynephiles, I believe, is that my in-person agreeability allows people to intellectualize my work as purely a creative pursuit. But I believe everything that I say wholeheartedly. And I believe that in Burman’s work also lies the potentiality for the artist to be genuinely disturbed or possibly unwell. This is dark stuff, and it’s great.