Francis Bacon

In the summer of 1963, a young photographer called Jorge Lewinski knocked nervously on the door of Francis Bacon's art studio in South Kensington in London and asked whether he could take the artist's portrait. After flicking through a portfolio of his work, Bacon invited Lewinski in and allowed himself to be photographed sitting amid the chaos, with a damaged circular mirror and numerous tins of paint brushes and pots of pigment behind him. Bacon's art permeated his studio. He used the walls and doors as a palette. Newspaper articles and images ripped from books and Sunday magazines that had inspired him were scattered across the floor. (Bacon boasted that he knew where everything was: at one photography session, the artist asked Lewinksi if he had seen a recent magazine article, before pulling a copy from the detritus.) The point of his photo sessions with Lewinski was clear: Bacon wanted the public to see the sources of his creativity. Today Bacon is considered one of the giants of 20th-century art, even though his violent paintings are misunderstood as much as they are revered. Earlier this year, his Triptych (1976) sold at Sotheby's for more than $86 million, the highest price ever paid at auction for a post-war work of art. Next month, Tate Britain hosts a major retrospective of his work for an unprecedented third time. Nearly two decades after his death, there is something about the genius of Francis Bacon that we continue to find compelling. For full source and full article click the Headline). Irish Art