'Indescribable Corruption': Ivan Albright's "Picture of Dorian Gray" and Embodying the Grotesque in Art
Words by Amelie Griffiths
“In spite of an indescribable corruption of the portrait, Basil was still able to recognise his painting of Dorian.” - excerpt from The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1945, directed by Albert Lewin
The narrator’s voice echoes the daunting atmosphere on screen just moments before the painting’s reveal. Warped shadows are cast across the hauntingly claustrophobic space, lit by a singular lamp. Dorian, played in this by Hurd Hatfield, stares vacantly with repeated menacing stabs at a wooden cabinet. His knife lingers in the material as if he is reveling in the damage; it’s unclear as to whether or not he is on the verge of a violent attack or simply contemplating. Meanwhile, Basil, the painter (played by Lowell Gilmore), is supposedly frozen in time, looking not at Dorian but at the canvas ahead of him. He holds an expression of both compulsion and fear. Suddenly, a loud crescendo of wavering strings, and the camera pans onto the object of Basil’s horror. Like many on their first watch, I almost jumped out of my skin. It’s a morbidly grotesque painting, a face completely covered in graphic scabs with an expression which suggests both repulsion and madness. The camera pans out, allowing the audience to see the full picture: an equally shabby coat bursting at the seams, the combination of rust and metallic sheen making it appear unnatural and yet still decaying, a richly detailed yet simultaneously warped background of psychedelic vibrancy, bloody and mangled hands, and an extremely perturbed looking cat. It evokes a similar reaction as Basil’s on screen: you're both transfixed at its unusual and horrific beauty and yet you wish you could close your eyes and unsee the whole thing.
Ivan Albright, “Picture of Dorian Gray”, 1945
The actual painting, of course, wasn’t created by the fictional Basil in this adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s novel, nor was it merely a prop; it was the artist of “magic realism”, Ivan Albright, who also just happens to be a master at invoking fear through art.
Albright’s paintings are notoriously known for their depictions of decay, combining both traditional realism and surreal elements to create a completely unique piece. His creative process is painstakingly detailed; “The Picture of Dorian Gray” itself took a year to complete, whilst others took even longer: “The Door”, for example, took 10 years before it was finished.
Ivan Albright, “That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do (The Door)”, 1931-1941
What makes his portraits so unique are the hyper realistic elements of the subjects, almost to the point of disturbance. Contextually, this stems from two things: being a medical illustrator during WWI and therefore constantly familiarising himself with real wounds on a daily basis, and also partially from his rebellion against his father, a fellow painter. Adam Albright’s son thought of his work as overly “pretty”, catalysing his need for contrast. Whilst still taking on his fathers’ role, he evolved it into a distinctive style which was certainly far from a pretty picture.
There have been several adaptations of Wildes’ novel over the years, although its most recent is the 2009 film titled “Dorian Gray”. Whilst several of the adaptations fail to live up to Albright’s painting, this film’s excessive use of CGI create by far the most underwhelming “grand reveal” of all, as the graphics make the picture appear gimmicky rather than genuinely frightening. The main indicator of decay within this painting are CGI maggots which burrow holes through the painting and slither around the canvas. An element of shock is added as the painting moves throughout the film, eventually even uttering an exasperated grunt in its final form. Whilst this could have worked in creating some additional suspense, too much is revealed too early on in the plot which completely loses the horror one should feel in the final reveal, unlike the 1945 film where we see a build up of anticipation through less being shown on the screen.
Unlike Albright’s highly expressive and colourful piece, we are instead met with a dull image which has clearly been photographed rather than staying true to the ‘indescribable corruption’ which Albright is able to capture so perfectly. The face carries a neutral expression and bears little to no variation in colour or texture, whilst the dark backdrop of the painting makes it seem as if he is about to disappear into it, rather than to transform into a grotesque and powerful figure. Albright’s overcrowded canvas, on the other hand, harnesses the painting an almost hypnotic power over the reader, whilst this rendition appears only to offer the viewers some cheap moments of unremarkable disgruntledness.
A still from ‘Dorian Gray’ (2009), directed by Oliver Parker
What truly makes Albright’s painting such a spectacular showcase of horror in art can be perpetuated by looking at Oscar Wilde’s own interpretation of the painting. His belief that “each man sees his own sin” in both Dorian and the painting which morphs to reflect his moral corruption highlights the role of the audience on Albright’s artwork, too. In this line of thought, you only receive as much of a reaction of fear as you recognise in yourself. Perhaps what really makes grotesque art scary, in spite of its innate repulsion, is its reflection on ourselves, our deepest fears which remain unresolved, and how vulnerable this makes us feel. For many of us, the thought that we could transform into the most repulsive part of ourselves is truly horrifying, and this is something which Albright’s painting forces us to confront.
References:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_A_xz2NLf_Y
https://www.artic.edu/artworks/93798/picture-of-dorian-gray
https://www.artic.edu/artists/33376/ivan-albright
https://www.lib.uchicago.edu/e/scrc/findingaids/view.php?eadid=ICU.SPCL.MS1560
https://www.artic.edu/artworks/83905/that-which-i-should-have-done-i-did-not-do-the-door
https://fourcorners.home.blog/2019/12/19/the-picture-of-dorian-gray-reflections/
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1235124/mediaviewer/rm513096704
