Working a Fine Line Enthralling Modigliani Exhibit Goes Beyond Artistís Tragic Life by Gary Tischler They call the wonderfully enthralling new exhibition at the Phillips Collection ìModigliani: Beyond the Myth.î The ìmythî being referred to is not really a myth at all. Rather, itís a question of emphasis. Amedeo Modigliani, an Italian-Jewish artist of compelling originality, is remembered more often than not for his almost clichÈ-like personal life. In fact, when they invented the clichÈ of the ìstarving artist,î they may have had Modigliani in mind. Just look at his photos: Modiglianiís feverishly handsome face, brooding genius written all over it, has the intensity of posture and eyes that overcome his frail frame. One mourner described him as having ìa taste for unhappiness.î Modigliani suffered from tuberculosis. He ate, drank, smoked and carousedóalbeit probably not merrilyówithout caution. He lived among bohemians, including fellow Jewish greats Chaim Soutine and Marc Chagall, and was often lumped in with modernists, cubists and post-impressionists, many of whom he knew in Paris. He died penniless at the age of 35. Modiglianiís 21-year-old pregna nt lover, Jeanne, who had been disowned by her Catholic parents, jumped out of a window and killed herself a day after his death. If that isnít the story of the tragic, poor, ill, struggling, suffering artist, complete with ultimate disasters, I donít know what is. But all of this is probably beside the point when it comes to his artistic talents, as is any attempt to put Modigliani in a particular school or genre. He swam in the same waters as his peers and drank a lot of the same bad wine, perhaps, but he was a school unto himself. So where did his portraits with their intense, thin lines come from? They donít appear informed by suffering, but by close observation and empathy, executed in a style that is wholly new and belonging to no one but him, and perhaps the ancient tribal ghosts of Stonehenge, Egypt and Easter Island. Popular memory doesnít do Modigliani justice either. We tend to remember the paintings like postersóhis thin, vertical faces resembling balloons and light fare, when they are in fact the vivid imaginings of peopleís souls. This exhibition of 100 works, 25 of which are exclusive to the Phillips show, was organized by the Jewish Museum in New York and includes a rich collection of Modiglianiís portraits, in addition to a generous sampling of his sculptures (he originally set out to be a sculptor) and 46 drawings. Thereís even an entire room devoted to his drawings of ìcaryatids,î the crouching female support figures in temples with which Modigliani became preoccupied. His sculpturesómysterious, enchanting, imposing and even a bit frightenedóseem primeval, almost as if they were the source of his paintings. Elongated and tall, they resemble large whispering things living in silence. The elongated, vertical style so characteristic of Modiglianiís portraits does not in any way compromise how much depth his figures have and what reality they hint at or expose. Many of them are ìrealî in the sense that the models are based on people in Modiglianiís life, such as his patron and friend Leopold Zborowski and Zborowskiís wife, Anna. Critics often suggest, and not unfavorably, that these subjects tend to have a certain style that make them all look alike, but this is shortsighted. It doesnít matter if theyíre anonymous or specific people. There is nothing like them in the universe, which of course is what makes these portraits the prime examples of Modiglianiís genius. That they come from his drawings and sculptures is plain to see. That he sees them like a man with a fierce vision, so fierce that he can make them permanent, is also plain to see. Some have names, others do not. Some have irises and eyes, and others do not. But all of them are blazingly alive. That tilt of a womanís head, the penetrating stare of a red-haired girl, the self-assured mustache of a doctoróthese are great works, and the long, straight-up faces and figures go so well with the curved, horizontal flow of his famous nudes. You wonder sometimes what happens at night when no one is in the museum, with just a little light in the room. Modigliani imbued his men and women, boys and girls, friends, benefactors and lovers with voices. Look at them long enough and you can guess at their precise tone, pitch, and what they might say or sigh. Myths are not altogether always nice or appealing, but the real thing, the work that stays long after the myth has become popular memory, remains with us today. ìModigliani: Beyond the Mythî runs through May 29 at the Phillips Collection, 1600 21st St., NW. For more information, please call (202) 387-2151 or visit www.phillipscollection.org. Gary Tischler is a contributing writer for The Washington Diplomat.