American Painter
George Tooker's eerie and captivating paintings took on art's biggest themes of desire, death, religion, and grief. As a queer artist working in the 1950s, Tooker railed against the established status quo in both his life and art, with his work focusing primarily on critiquing the isolation and disaffection prevalent in an increasingly Capitalist and bureaucratic world. His works combine qualities of Surrealist dreamscapes, political commentary, and Renaissance painting techniques to create disturbing, yet beautiful, images of everyday human struggles.
George Tooker was born on August 5th, 1920 in Brooklyn to George Clair Tooker and Anela Montejo Roura. He had one sister named Mary. His father was of English and French descent and his mother was a mixture of German, English and Spanish-Cuban heritage. His family lived in Brooklyn until he was seven years old, after which his family moved to Bellport, Long Island. He was brought up as a member of the Episcopal Church and was of a middle class background.
This painting of a subway is one of the most famous works by Tooker. The central female figure is shown looking anxiously to her right and clutching her abdomen, surrounded by a series of anonymous, somewhat sinister looking figures. While the central figure wears a red dress, the surrounding figures are all shown in varying shades of beige, brown and blue. The surrounding figures are almost all men. The perspective of the painting presents the subway with a series of seemingly endless passageways. The scene itself is dominated by neutral tones and sharp, distinct edges.
This painting illuminates the feeling of isolation and alienation of modern, urban life, which is a theme that is omnipresent in his oeuvre. The central figure is pictured alone, distinct from all the other figures, which is exemplified by the contrast of her vibrant red dress to the neutral tones of the surrounding figures. The background figures seem to look at the central woman from the corners of their eyes or from around corners, adding an element of paranoia to the painting. The maze-like depiction of the subway adds to this sentiment, presenting it almost as a labyrinthine prison in which the central figure is trapped. The subway thus becomes a metaphor for the imprisonment of urban society, to which we are all subject.
Gender identity and the risks associated with femininity are both central to this piece. American art historian Michael Brooks states that the color contrasts between the male and female figures "echo the traditional symbols of passion and sanctity, and the woman uses her hand to protect her womb against the threatening messages of the men around her." The woman is thus pictured as sexualized and vulnerable - insulated and fearful in public amidst the threatening male influences around her.
Egg tempera on composition board, 18 1/2 × 36 1/2 in - Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, NY
This painting portrays a government office, which seems to stretch to infinity. Variations of stock figures wait to be helped, no one interacting with one another, standing aimlessly and not in front of any particular window. The desks have privacy glass with a small circle cut through only to reveal the sickly, pale, and sunken in faces of the government employees, who all look the same. The color scheme of the office is varying shades of tan and brown, and all the figures wear variations of the same five colors.
Government Bureau, like Subway, offers a social commentary about the anonymity of modern urban life, but with a different technique. Here he presents a marked juxtaposition between the civilians and the government clerks: the civilians stand turned away from the viewer, their faces not visible, while the government clerks are facing the viewer. The civilians are not given faces or any sort of individuality, reduced to just clients in need of service rather than humans. This emphasizes the lack of humanity that Tooker perceived from the government, especially in light of the political climate during the mid 20th century. This distrust of authority is also evident in the characterization of the government clerks.
In Marx's theory of alienation, we are told that although each individual worker seems to be an autonomous actor in their own life, they are in fact driven by the forces of the bourgeoisie's, or upper class's, demand for surplus labor to produce goods, which the workers themselves may never see (each one a faceless cog in a production line) nor afford themselves. Because workers are unable to be in charge of their own lives and decisions, they become separated from their essence as individuals. In Government Bureau we clearly see this facelessness of clerk and civilian; different workers in the Capitalist machine.
This work also utilizes themes of obscurity and surveillance to make a statement about the government and its services. The privacy windows of the bureau can only be permeated with a small, circular opening, through which the viewer is only able to see part of the clerk's face. This illuminates the lack of transparency about what goes on within the government, even though civilians are encouraged to blindly follow its decisions and contribute to them with taxation. Also of importance is the juxtaposed element of surveillance; while we cannot see the government, the government can see us. The clerks are able to see out of the small holes, and even look directly at the viewer. Tooker uses this imagery to display the hypocrisy of the governmental system, which monitors citizens while simultaneously dehumanizing them.
Egg tempera on wood, 19 5/8 x 29 5/8 in - The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
This scene displays a series of people waiting for an unknown service, many of them in numbered stalls, which are identical and narrow. The people are occupying themselves in various ways, either alone or in couples. In the forefront are two men pictured on either end, one sitting and looking back towards the stalls, the other with sunglasses and his back turned towards the viewer. Behind them, two people sit who appear to be asleep. The lighting in the room appears to be fluorescent, and all of the figures have a grayish hue to their skin. Additionally, the wardrobes of each of the figures repeat the same five colors: orange, light pink, beige, navy blue and brown.
This painting speaks to the themes of bureaucracy, anonymity and anxiety, which are also present in Subway and Govrnment Bureau. Like in Government Bureau, the figures wait for a service that is unknown, isolated from one another, in a space characterized by neutral, nondescript colors. The lighting gives the people a sickly color, and the room appears to be uncomfortable and dirty. The perspective of the painting suggests that the room itself, as well as the waiting, might go on forever. The painting was inspired by Tooker's own frustration waiting for building permits, and he says, "The Waiting Room is a kind of purgatory - people just waiting - waiting to wait. It is not living." The depiction of liminal space as a kind of purgatory is used throughout Tooker's works. As in Government Bureau, this lack of any boundary or end to waiting questions the value of what the figures are waiting for, making a larger statement about personal satisfaction in modern society. This described "purgatory" seems to be omnipresent in modern life, but for what purpose, and to what effect? The lack of identification of the service or 'end goal' in The Waiting Room tells us of the sameness of bureaucratic processes invented seemingly to intentionally alienate worker from product, or service.
Tooker evokes anxiety at this idea of standardization with this scene, portraying people as nothing more than objects to be sorted. This painting shows a growing concern within modernity around anonymity, industrialization, and the treatment of citizens and workers, and remains a prescient and disquieting image of the depersonalized workforce under capitalism.
Egg tempera on wood, 24 x 30 in - Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, D.C.
Tooker's Sleepers II depicts a series of homogenous figures, all with blonde hair and blue eyes, lying in a sea-like mound of white blankets. They all stare blankly upward, completely expressionless. Only their heads are exposed from the blankets, as if they are floating in them. They lay in a seemingly infinite amount of blankets, without any boundaries or edges. The environment surrounding the figures is blue and white, as if they are in a dream world.
Sleepers II is one of Tooker's 'private' works, which displays a more personal, internal narrative than one of social commentary about contemporary urban life. The stares of the figures are a mixture of shock, uncertainty, discomfort and haunting placidity. This work evokes themes of spirituality and uncertainty, which Tooker often represented in his 'private' works. The figures do not appear to be either fully conscious or unconscious, alive or dead, and the setting could be interpreted as a sort of afterlife, or passageway to an afterlife or purgatory. The sheets then act like waves, or clouds, transporting and supporting the figures, while also drowning or enveloping them. The figures are passive bodies, which calls into question Tooker's viewpoint on religion and death. Are we all just subjects to religion and its consequential afterlife, no matter how we identify?
The painting is also reminiscent of the space in between the conscious and unconscious mind, the dream state described by Sigmund Freud. The blankets here become a boundary between the conscious and unconscious, the head being in the conscious realm above the sheets and the body being in the subconscious realm below the blankets - the conscious mind trapped and held hostage by its troubled, bodily, subconscious beneath the sheets.
Egg tempera on wood panel, 16 1/8 x 28 in - Museum of Modern Art, New York
This painting deviates from most of Tooker's earlier work in several ways. It does not depict a scene from daily urban life, rather an abstract geometric gradient with an anonymous figure facing away from the viewer. However, like many of his other works, the perspective of the work presents the setting as seemingly infinite. The light appears to be coming from many different points, obscuring boundaries and exit points.
This painting was extremely personal to Tooker and yet represents the universality of grief. The figure is facing away from the viewer, and its anonymity allows the viewer to infer whatever identity they choose onto it, giving it potential resonance for any viewer. Additionally, the passageway is not given any indicators of setting, which also allows inference of setting from the viewer. The blue and gray color also gives the painting a feeling of loss, a theme present in Tooker's other works, amplified here through the cool color scheme's application throughout the surface of the canvas.
Tooker describes the setting of the painting as "a reversible space... about a state of shock... about how I felt at the time of my mother's death." The 'reversible space' encapsulates the overwhelming and mutual experience of death for the deceased and their surviving loved ones. The seemingly infinite passageway between the deceased figure and the viewer, positioned as the living, exemplifies this. The disjointed lighting does not give the passageway cogency, disorienting the viewer and making the passageway an esoteric space, not of the living, but not of the dead. This infinite and abstract passageway represents the obscurity of death, and humanity's endless curiosity about what happens to the deceased human consciousness. This liminal space also addresses themes of spirituality and the afterlife, questioning what is next for the deceased. It draws on the archetypal 'passage into the light,' without giving the viewer the satisfaction of knowing what might come at the end of the passageway. The painting is a strange, and captivating representation of death, loss, and grief - all extremely important themes for artists today and throughout history.
Egg tempera on gessoed masonite, 24 x 23 11/16 in - Hood Museum of Art, Dartmouth College, New York
Voice II, the second of the Voice series, shows two almost identical men on opposite sides of what appears to be a door trying to communicate. The man on the left, in shadow, has his mouth open and looks as if he is trying to speak, but has a look of significant fear. The man on the right, in the light, tries to listen, also with a look of anxiety. The color palette is light, tan and yellow colors, with a significantly darker left side.
This painting represents the inner monologue between different parts of the self. It iterates ideas of the way in which a hidden or obscured part of the self communicates with the outer, more overt part of the self. The portrait of the communicator on the left is shrouded in darkness and appears to be fearful, while the receiver of the communication on the right is in a lighter setting, with the majority of the painting dedicated to him. Both appear to be sorrowful, longing for communication. This is meant to position the viewer as the figure on the right, the more rational part of the self that must be open to communication with the subliminal part of the self. The almost monochromatic color scheme of the painting suggests that the space is not in real time, and is likely more an imagined scene of how two parts of the self communicate.
The communication of the two parts of the self could have several connotations. The figure on the right is struggling to hear the figure on the left, and the figure on the left appears to be characterized by fear. Perhaps Tooker is commenting on the importance of being self-aware and listening to one's anxieties. However, neither of the figures appears to be satisfied, questioning whether these two parts of the self will ever be at peace with one another. The man on the outside of the door, in the light, could easily slam it shut on his alter ego's face. Like the Surrealists long before him, Tooker uses symbolism in this painting to depict a universal moment of suffering and conflict - the conflict of inner voices as if they might be coming from two different mouths and minds.
Egg tempera on gessoed panel, 17 1/2 x 11 ½ in - National Academy Museum, New York
Content compiled and written by Charlotte Davis
Edited and published by The Art Story Contributors
