The Horror on the End of Every Fork
Still Life of a Lamb's Head and Flanks, by Francisco Goya (1808-1812)
My essay The Horror on the End of Every Fork was recently published in Seize the Press. You can read the entire piece for free here.
The essay is a spiritual companion to my recent book Disassembly of the Pig which, of course, is still available for purchase if that’s something that interests you.
Both the book and the essay explore similar themes, although the latter delves a bit more into the capitalist exploitation which I tend to see as the true core of the conversation. Both texts are also circling around something which has been integral to Still Life art since the Dutch Golden Age. The point is this: food isn’t just fuel. Food is a cultural signifier. Food is inextricably intertwined with history, religion, politics, and economics. After all, when you serve an expensive bottle of wine at dinner you aren’t just offering your guests a flavourful beverage, you’re also demonstrating something about your economic status and high-brow taste. And when you long for the comfort foods of your childhood you aren’t just having a craving, you’re also expressing a deep connection to your heritage, culture, and family traditions. Under capitalism we are encouraged to express our identities and politics and ethics through consumption; rarely is this tendency more salient than when it comes to questions about which foods we choose to consume, which foods are accessible to us, etc.
In short: Food isn’t just nourishment. Food is also a symbol. And Still Life has long been an important medium for artists who are interested in exploring such symbolism. Take, for example, the peeled lemons which abound in the paintings of the Dutch Golden Age. These are usually understood as symbols of opulence and vanity. Such an interpretation might be confusing for contemporary viewers, many of whom can purchase inexpensive lemons at the grocery store year round. But the symbolism makes perfect sense in historical context, because lemons were probably considered a luxury item by the painters who immortalized them countless times in their art. The symbolic meaning of the painting is contingent on the symbolic meaning of the lemon itself.
Still Life with Two Lemons, a Facon de Venise Glass, Roemer, Knife and Olives on a Table, by Pieter Claesz (1629)
The point is this: one cannot seriously engage with Still Life as an art form without also seriously engaging with the politics of food. There are certainly Still Life arrangements which do not involve food; however, the connection between the art form and the kitchen is so integral and long-standing that it simply cannot be overlooked by anyone who is serious about the subject. Both my recent essay and my recent book represent my own attempts to grapple with the symbolic meaning of food in a contemporary Still Life context.
A Quick Update:
Updates have been sparse for the last while but there’s lots of exciting stuff coming down the pipeline. I’ve got a few more non-fiction essays to talk about which I’ll be sharing over the next few weeks. I’ve also finally wrapped up creating art for my next book, All is Vanity. This is going to be the big hardcover coffee table book which many have been asking about. That book will compile about 250 still life arrangements (many of which you haven’t seen before) and will also include a series of short essays which provide historical context and deepen the meaning of the images. At this point I’m done with the art; all I have left to do is research and writing and layout. I’m hoping for a release around October but, barring that, I think Xmas should be achievable. Stay tuned!