Allen Jones, the most controversial artist in the United Kingdom, has influenced practically everyone. During the filming of A Clockwork Orange, Stanley Kubrick drew inspiration from him for the decor of the Korova Milk Bar, where sculptures of lascivious women transformed into tables, chairs, and even coat racks dotted the scene (today, such works would be unthinkable). Gucci did the same in 2013 when it decided to play with contrasts on the runway, featuring models in tight leather dresses armed with accessories guided by his unmistakable fetishistic aesthetic. David Gilmour, the guitarist of Pink Floyd, chose him as an inspirational muse during the filming of Live at Pompeii, appearing in various video segments with a copy of his legendary Figures. German director Barbet Schroeder entrusted him with the design of his 1975 film Maîtresse, where a thief played by a young Gérard Depardieu finds himself robbing the house of a professional dominatrix. In short, if part of our contemporary imagery is shaped in this way, a bit of credit (or blame, depending on one's perspective) belongs to him. Now, the ironic, irreverent, unsettling, seductive, sacrilegious, scandalous - but the list could go on indefinitely - universe of the great British master lands, as if it were a spaceship, in the halls of the Galleria d'Arte Maggiore g.a.m in Bologna for the exhibition "Forever Icon." A substantial exploration of his vision, which since the 1960s has sparked heated debates, especially among feminists (in 1986, one of his bold and sacrilegious sculptures was vandalized with acid).
Born in Hampshire in 1937, Jones studied at the Royal College of Art in London, where he was a student of masters like David Hockney and Ron Kitaj. He has been considered a fundamental figure of European Pop art since the days of Swingin’ London. Beloved by Elton John, Mick Jagger, Roman Polanski, he was an artist who made the figure and the human body the neuralgic heart of his poetics. But what exactly do his works mean? What is his true objective? The matter is much debated. Some see him as simply a misogynist; others, on the contrary, consider him a great critic of the capitalist system, where women's bodies have always been reduced to mere objects of male desire; still, others argue that Jones simply portrays what he sees without taking a clear and definitive stance. "I could have been an abstract painter," the artist told the Daily Telegraph some time ago. "I could have spent my life painting squares. In a way, it would have been easier, but it would also have been much more limiting..."
On display from February 1st (during the days of Arte Fiera) to April 16th, his entire world is encapsulated in about fifteen pieces, mainly plastic sculptures, photos, and paintings. There are works like Ovation, Backdrop, and Changing Room that reveal his viewpoint on femininity through sinuous bodies dissolving into vibrant colors. There are works like Semi Quiver and Crescendo that explore the interconnection between genders, more or less explicitly asserting that one cannot live without the other. But the exhibition has its highlight. It is the photograph Body Armour (Kate), which testifies to the metamorphosis of Kate Moss into sculpture: in 2013, Jones adorned the star - who has been his muse on several occasions - with a golden and bronze armor, turning her into a sort of mannequin. The project, originally intended to be included in a 1978 film that Jones never directed, while that corset was supposed to cover the curves of Raquel Welch, who ultimately declined the invitation through a registered letter. The last piece of this special edition speaks of glamour, of contemporary icons, but also of how women are portrayed in modern imagery. One final reflection. If Jones' exhibition, who now lives and works between his studio in Charterhouse Square, London, and the one surrounded by the greenery of Oxfordshire designed by architect Piers Gough, had been staged in the 1960s and 1970s, it would undoubtedly have sparked scandalous reactions, protests, and even street riots. However, this time, none of this will happen. And while it is obviously a good thing (at least from the perspective of public order), on the other hand, it is clear evidence that we live in a society now accustomed to any stimulus, to any provocation. Whether it be censorship for a nipple shown on Instagram or a female body transformed into any piece of furniture. And perhaps this is precisely what Mr. Jones wants to tell us, ferrying his works from yesterday into our fragile today.
