The Empty Hours: Egon Schiele

The Institute of Contemporary Art, which twelve years ago brought Austria's most famous expressionist painter, Oskar Kokoschka, to American museums, is now doing the same for his contemporary, Egon Schiele. Hopefully, this will do as much for Schiele as the previous exhibit did of Kokoschka, for undoubtedly Schiele deserves the international fame he has never received.

Of his early years, Schiele writes, "I lived in joy, in a joy alternating between serenity and wistfulness. Then came the empty hours." World War I and many family problems placed further restrictions on his liberty and his painting came more and more to reflect the pathos within him.

Perhaps the development of his brutal style can be best traced in the half dozen self-portraits included in this exhibit. The first, painted in 1907 when Schiele was 17 years old and still studying at the Vienna Academy of Arts, is a study-of-a-child-prodigy-type with the flowing hair, billowing bow-tie, and all other appropriate appurtenances. It is objective, the colors are soft but warm and the expression is pleasant.

The next was drawn under the influence of Austria's chief exponent of art nouveau, Gustav Klimt. But beneath the decorative quality which was art nouveau, one begins to see the real Schiele pushing through. As is typical in Schiele, a minimum of slightly wavy lines describe the body in an almost skeletal form. The head is tossed back and the mouth rounded into a long wail. Though it lacks the conviction of future self-portraits, the drawing predicts the increasingly tortured expression to be found in Schiele's work.

In subseqeunt studies, Schiele twists his features more than ever, further delineates the bone structure in the emaciated face and body, effects a weird but rich skin tone by combining patches of green and red, and elongates and contorts his limbs to further emphasize his agony.

There are two self-portraits in the exhibit from 1914, one of the painter as Saint Sebastian (typical of Schiele's persecution complex), and the other an oil in which Schiele appears with deep-set eyes and a wan, bony countenance. As Death, he reaches out towards his model who shrinks away into the somber, slightly cubist background.

Schiele spent most of his energies on portraits but also painted several landscapes. It is quite interesting to notice the difference between city and country in these. The city, which he hated, is painted in his usual pessimistic manner, but his rural scenes are almost light in tone.

Of the few other optimistic works, the most prominent is a lovely oil of the artist's wife, painted just after their marriage in 1915. Schiele's sympathy towards her is beautifully reflected in her pleasant, demure expression and in the bright colors of her dress.

In 1918, she died of influenza and three days later Schiele succumbed. He was then twenty-eight years old and unknown beyond the borders of Austria. But few great men are recognized during their life and perhaps the forty-two years between Schiele's death and his international recognition is not too great a span.