Today, the hype surrounding all things pink, floral and heart-shaped is often thought to have been created by cynical businessmen selling cards and rose-clutching teddy bears. The sickly (rather than sweet) imagery thrown indiscriminately from billboards and social media the world over, is the impetus for waves of sarcastic disinterest or humorous indignation in the weeks running up to the love-it-or-hate-it day.
For some, this gets a little more tiresome each year – hearts and roses can only entertain the eye so much. Auguste Rodin said ‘The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live‘… an idea that doesn’t necessarily equate with Hallmark cards. In light of this, an overview of images of love in art, and the complex myriad of perspectives they convey, might act as some sort of antidote.
Theatrical and ostentatious body language imparts intimacy: faces seemingly indivisibly connected and arms wrapped around each other. There’s an uncomfortable feeling of intrusion in ‘In Bed the Kiss’ (1892) by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. ‘Cupid and Psyche’ (1794) by Antonio Canova relates a desperation to the embrace, and a sense of panicked revival. ‘The Kiss’ (1889) by Auguste Rodin is just as intense but at once far more peaceful.
Art separates lust and love. ‘Rise and Monty Kissing, New York City’ (1980) by Nan Goldin is full to the brim of the former. Compare this to ‘Anna and Joachim at the Golden Gates’ (1305) by Giotto – here embrace is affectionate and restrained, a sign of friendship above all else.
‘Anna and Joachim at the Golden Gates’ (1305) by Giotto
The kiss is recurrently shown as a bubble of escape. Klimt’s iconic ‘The Kiss’ (1907-8) has a natural innocence and mythical light to its embrace; the figures are isolated and hidden amongst swirls of flowery colour and dusty gold. In Francesco Hayez’s ‘The Kiss’ (1859) a couple have escaped and are surrounded by stone. ‘Paolo and Francesca da Rimini’ (1867) by Dante Rossetti has a similar comfortable isolation, with the couple at the centre, cushioned by folds of darker fabric. In ‘Les Amants’ (1927-8) by Rene Magritte, fabric, escape and isolation are taken to new visual extremes; the kiss lets the couple mask and forget all other emotions and fears in a blanket of opaque white.
Sometimes other emotions are hard to hide, and the kiss is marred by desperate, overriding feelings. In ‘Kissing the War Goodbye’, taken on VJ Day, August 14,1945, by Victor Jorgensen, love is not the focus, but instead relief from war and tired victory. ‘The Kiss’ (1962) by Roy Lichtenstein is grieving and fearful – check out his Foundation’s Image Duplicator to see ‘The Kiss’ 1961, ‘Kiss II’ and ‘Kiss III’ 1962. Edvard Munch‘s ‘The Kiss II’ (1897) is harrowing in its creeping surroundings and dark torment.
Edward Hopper said ‘If I could say it in words there would be no reason to paint.‘
When ‘I love you’ is being beamed all over the globe in pink bubble writing, this can seem achingly accurate. Art is the ultimate way to express love or obsession; when artists turn to the kiss, the possibilities for expression are infinite.
