The MK Gallery in Milton Keynes currently hosts a retrospective of Euan Uglow, a painter whose dedication to precision and detail raises questions about the emotional resonance of his work. Running from 14 February to 31 May, this exhibition showcases over 70 pieces that, while technically impressive, often leave viewers feeling detached. Uglow’s painstaking approach to art, which often extended the length of time models sat for him, seems to drain his subjects of vitality, making one wonder if the price of mastery is a loss of connection.
A Laboured Journey Through Art
Upon entering the exhibition, visitors are greeted with a somewhat perplexing arrangement: a room displaying seven paintings, only two of which are by Uglow himself. This choice feels disorienting, especially for those who might be unfamiliar with the artist’s oeuvre. A brief overview of Uglow’s educational background reveals his studies at the Camberwell School of Arts and Crafts followed by the Slade, where he was profoundly influenced by greats such as Paul Cézanne and Alberto Giacometti. Yet, the exhibition curators seem to have prioritised context over coherence, which might alienate some art enthusiasts.
As the exhibition progresses, we gain a better understanding of Uglow’s unique style. After moving into a Battersea studio in 1959, he began developing his meticulous approach, characterised by intense observation and a commitment to detail. Early works reveal flickers of life, notably in a portrait of his friend, Gloria Ceccone, adorned with vibrant beads. Yet, as we delve deeper, the energy dissipates, particularly when confronted with his large-scale nudes. These figures, often contorted in ways that evoke an unsettling disconnection from their humanity, provoke a visceral reaction—though perhaps not the one Uglow intended.
The Demands of the Artist
Much like his contemporaries, Uglow demanded unwavering commitment from his models. His notorious work ethic resulted in some of his pieces taking years to complete. For instance, “The Diagonal” (1971-77) is an elegant yet excruciating depiction of a long figure stretched across the canvas, a process that spanned an agonising six years. The artist’s meticulousness often resulted in models withdrawing from the process altogether; notable among them was Cherie Blair, who famously posed for Uglow before abandoning the project due to time constraints.
Blair’s unfinished portrait is displayed alongside a more polished version created with a substitute model, highlighting Uglow’s relentless pursuit of perfection. The static nature of these works often leads to a sense of lifelessness. One can’t help but reflect on the disconnect between the artist’s rigorous methodology and the emotional essence that art is often supposed to convey.
Moments of Brilliance Amidst the Coldness
While Uglow’s works are undeniably crafted with precision, they often lack the warmth that draws viewers in. A few pieces do shine through with moments of brilliance, such as the tender depiction of a model’s foot in “Pepe’s Painting” (1984-85) and the character captured in “The Diagonal.” Yet, other works, like “Zagi” (1981-82), leave much to be desired, with models appearing as though they’ve just emerged from a scalding bath, lacking the dynamism one might expect from a depiction of movement.
Uglow’s serious approach to art often feels self-indulgent; his famous assertion that “the proper subject of a painting is painting itself” seems to overshadow the emotional resonance of his subjects. While his commitment to detail is commendable, it can detract from the very essence of art—the ability to evoke feelings and connect with the viewer.
The exhibition concludes with a series of still lifes that leave a mixed impression. While some pieces, such as a delicate daisy, offer a glimpse of beauty, others—like a sad, slumped peach—fail to resonate. The final work, “Mouse Loaf” (1991-92), particularly stands out. Uglow’s obsession with detail even led him to fill a decaying loaf with plaster to prevent it from collapsing, presenting a rather macabre metaphor for his artistic philosophy: life, while vibrant, is often chewed away by time.
Why it Matters
Euan Uglow’s retrospective at MK Gallery serves as a compelling yet critical examination of an artist who prioritised methodology over emotional engagement. In an era where art is increasingly expected to forge connections and inspire, Uglow’s work challenges our understanding of what it means to create. While his technical prowess and dedication to detail are admirable, they raise essential questions about the balance between craftsmanship and emotional resonance—an inquiry that resonates deeply in today’s art landscape. As audiences reflect on Uglow’s legacy, it becomes clear that art’s true power often lies in its ability to evoke emotion, rather than merely showcase technique.
