What do people think? Or talk about?

Printer-friendly versionSend to friend
Secret Meeting at a Party

Often I see a few people huddled together talking intently about something. What? Probably money, sex, food or holidays. I'll never know, but I think it was Bernard Shaw or Oscar Wilde who observed: Nothing is read more carefully and with more interest than a menu.

Paintings are a little the same. Either they are looked at without any interest whatsoever or with such an interesting interpretation it would make the creator laugh, cry or blush!

I am often asked why I paint the men and women naked. My standard answer is because I don't want to worry about the latest fashion.

Click to read the rest

A nice guy at Freeman House asked me why my paintings often had a penis or vagina. I asked the guy: Do you have a penis? Does Mary over there have a vagina? He was clever and humble in his reply: Point taken, Paul.

I remember I was in Florence years ago and stood among a crowd of people staring up at Michael Angelo's David. What were they thinking? Michael Angelo was so clever! Or, shit, that's a nice looking stark naked David. With a small willy!

Some nasty art critic in Holland, now dead, wrote about me; Paul Bakker's art is perversion hidden under a coat of white paint. I was 26 at the time and met this man at the famous Pulchri Art Society in The Hague and he was there, drunk as a skunk. He made a most 'perverted' suggestion to me. I had the wicked feeling: Now who's perverted?

I don't believe in perversion in Art unless it is done deliberately. Never forget the Nazi's, for them Mendelssohn's music was perverted or degenerated and most artists were considered perverted if they didn't do the muscular bodies of strong blue eyed, blond men and women, Arian men and women. I personally feel uncomfortable looking at the work of Nazi artist. They make me feel ashamed.

Anyway, shut up and start working Mr. Bakker.

I coated the table I work on all white again. Evidence of the last week's work, paint drops, scratches and cuts made by my knives when cutting a schablone, are all gone. A new day.

Funny, I have absolutely no idea what to do and I have had two coffees already.

Truthfully, I'd like to take a train to somewhere and come back. Go away to come back home.
Most people are happy when they are home again after some exotic holiday I imagine.