Old Masters by Thomas Bernhard Read Free Book Online

so-called free man is a utopia, so the so-called free artist has always been a utopia, Reger often says. Artists, the so-called great artists, I believe, are moreover, says Reger, the most unscrupulous of all people, they are a lot more unscrupulous even than politicians. Artists are the worst liars, even worse than the politicians, which means that the art artists are even worse liars than the state artists, I can hear Reger say again. This art invariably turns towards the allpowerful and the powerful, and away from the world, Reger often says, therein lies its baseness. This art is pitiful, no less, I can now hear Reger saying yesterday, while watching him from the Sebastiano Room today. Why do painters paint at all, when there is such a thing as nature? Reger asked himself yesterday, not for the first time. Even the most extraordinary work of art is only a pitiful, totally senseless and pointless effort to imitate nature, indeed to ape it, he said. What is Rembrandt's painted face of his mother compared with the actual face of mine? he asked again. What are the Danube meadows through which I can walk while I can see them compared to the painted ones? he said. Recording, people say, documenting, but, as we know, it is only the mendacious, the untrue, only falsehoods and lies that are recorded and documented, posterity has only falsehoods and lies hanging on its walls, there are only falsehoods and lies in the books which the so-called great writers have left us, only falsehoods and lies in the paintings which hang on these walls. The man hanging on the wall here is never the one the painter painted, Reger said yesterday. The man hanging on the wall is not the one who lived, he said. Of course, he said, you will say that it is the view of the artist who painted the picture, that is true, even though it is a mendacious view, it is, at least as far as the paintings in this museum are concerned, always only the Catholic state view of the artist in question, because nothing that hangs here is anything other than Catholic state art and in consequence, as I am bound to say, a base art, it can be as magnificent as it likes, it is only base Catholic state art. The so-called old masters, especially if one regards several of them alongside each other, I mean if one regards their works alongside each other, are all enthusiasts for lies, who have curried favour with Catholic state taste and sold themselves to it, Reger said. To that extent we are dealing only with a thoroughly depressing Catholic history of art, with a thoroughly depressing Catholic history of painting, which invariably found and had its subject in heaven or in hell but never on earth, he said. The painters did not paint what they ought to have painted but only what they were commissioned to paint or what earned them and brought them money or fame, he said. The painters, all these old masters, who most of the time nauseate me more than anything else and of whom I have always had a horror, he said, always only served one master and never themselves and hence humanity. They always painted a fake world, faked by them from within themselves, which they hoped would bring them money and fame; they all of them painted only in this manner, out of greed for money and out of greed for fame, not because they wanted to be painters but because they wanted fame or money, or both fame and money. In Europe they have only ever painted into the hands of a Catholic God or to his face, he said, a Catholic God and his Catholic gods. Every brush-stroke, however inspired, by these so-called old masters is a lie, he said. World decorators is what he yesterday called those he truly and profoundly hated and by whom, at the same time, he had always, throughout his miserable life, been fascinated. Religiously mendacious assistant decorators of the European Catholic rulers, that is what these old masters are, nothing else, you can see that in every dab of colour which these artists shamelessly