By Grace Schwindt
Charles Bukowski lifting weights at his apartment in Hollywood, California, 1976. Courtesy Getty Images; photograph Joan Gannij
In a new series, frieze invites artists to present a series of images that are important to them
Charles Bukowski lifting weights at his apartment in Hollywood, California, 1976
I frequently reference novels and short stories in my work, whether phrases, atmospheres, descriptions of scenes, movements, emotions, thoughts, colours or aspects of the self, and I always find myself drawn to the writing of Charles Bukowski. He somehow manages to convey both a love for people and a deep disappointment in humanity.
The same goes for Carson McCullers, who Bukowski adored. McCullers writes from the point of view of an outsider, but she always conveys this feeling of exclusion through very delicate descriptions of bodies and their movements. In Ballad of a Sad Café (1951), for instance, McCullers uses the image of a woman singing a simple melody to point towards loneliness, futility and the overbearing evil of this world:
‘Somewhere in the darkness a woman sang in a high wild voice and the tune had no start and no finish and was made up of only three notes which went on and on.’
The final part of Grace Schwindt’s ‘Portfolio’ will be available tomorrow.