Genius of empathy

When German artist Georg Baselitz draws feet they don't look like feet but there is a 'footness' about them. When he draws 'sex' with dumplings, it doesn't (though I'm no expert) recall either act or actor, but there is something doughy, squashy and squalidly sexual in it.

Many of the huge paintings in the RA's main gallery have been painted upside down precisely to liberate their subject matter from recognition, to help us see through what we should see and leave just the marrow of the thing. Even when it's unpalatable; in fact, especially when it's unpalatable.

This is Baselitz's first major British retrospective and shows him for the prolific, experimental, voluble post-war artist he is.

It's an exhaustive exhibition spanning 50 years and several artistic incarnations, but Baselitz's marks are always urgent and his glare ever unremitting. As an artist he goes beyond abstraction and skirts realism to leave us with a residual feeling - usually terrorised, battle weary or scrutinised.

Stand in front of a Baselitz figure and you will feel the heavy tread of a tired soldier - only upside down does the emotional load he carries feel lighter. It is an unsettling experience that has nothing to do with anatomical correctness and everything to do with the genius of empathy.

Georg Baselitz
Royal Academy Of Arts
Burlington House, Piccadilly, W1J 0BD