Farrah All of Me

Action painting? Well, there was Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning and Franz Kline and, um, Farrah Fawcett. Actually, Miss Fawcett, the foxiest action painter in art history, came onto the scene considerably later, but there's no question her paintings involve an enormous amount of action. So much action, in fact, that in this case the creative process is at least as picturesque as the pictures themselves. Farrah's artistic influence is the infinitely hip French artist Yves Klein (1928-1962), the painter who used the unclothed female body to apply paint to canvas. In 1960 Klein created his Anthropometrie series using nude models as brushes, swathing them in his signature pigment, International Klein Blue, and dragging them across canvases to the accompaniment of his own musical composition, the Monotone Symphony.

The results were a remarkable combination of sophisticated abstract gesture, primitive eroticism and urbane wit. At the time, many people derided Klein as a publicity seeker. But he was the first artist to realize that the creative act could be a successful and witty publicity stunt, without losing any of its validity or power.

Farrah Fawcett seems to be another artist who has realized that sex and painting and publicity are a heady mixture, as you'll notice here. Fawcett is a trained artist. She studied sculpture and painting as an art major at the University of Texas before she embarked on her acting career. Over the years she has been busy, as an actress and a mother, but she has always kept her hand in art and has never lost her touch.

Her home in Bel Air, a two-house compound high in the hills, is filled with art, much of it her own creations. There's an interesting selection from other artists, too, including a portrait of Farrah by Andy Warhol. (There's also a framed dinner napkin, doodled and signed by Warhol, in the powder room.) The compound has two studio spaces filled with her modeled-in-clay busts and recent body paintings. Her studio doesn't look like that of a Sunday painter. It's a real work space, with brushes lying around, stretchers stacked against walls, and notes, photos and drawings taped everywhere. It's obvious that if she had taken another career path, that of fine artist, she has the talent and the skill to have made it. Her early figurative paintings show a classical proficiency and her sculptures--heads and torsos--show a genuine feeling for the human form. And though Farrah hasn't worked at her art steadily, you can tell it has been much on her mind throughout her life.

"I've wanted to do body painting ever since I was at the University of Texas in 1968," says the very fine artist (who looks more like she was born in 1968). "I played around with a little body painting then. I wasn't interested in painting my body, in being a living canvas. I wanted to use my body as a brush, to actually paint with parts of my body.

I didn't do any canvases, but I made some interesting designs that looked abstract, yet you knew what they were. I did this incredible butt. I didn't really pursue it then. But it's something I've thought a lot about over the years, and I knew I would do it eventually.

"It's something I wanted to do for my first Playboy shoot, for the December 1995 issue. But it's probably better that it happened now. If you look at those pictures and these pictures, you see two different people. I've grown and I've developed the courage and the conviction to get this done. I'm basically a shy person. When I was approached by Playboy I knew that I wanted to do something artistic. Historically, Americans have been known to have a problem with both art and nudity. In Europe people seem to be much more open toward art and the body. I studied Renaissance art and have always admired the relationship between art and the nude body. For example, I saw a piece at auction I wanted--it was of a beautiful woman whose body was completely covered by a deep-burgundy cloak.

"It turned out to be a John Opie, a priceless piece, that was exported from Europe to America at the turn of the century. The man who was bidding against me for it was a restorer. Afterward I had him work on the piece. The paint was crackly and I wanted to see what was underneath. As the layers were slowly removed, the figure turned out to be covered by only a transparent piece of fabric--and she was holding a wineglass. The piece had been altered to be more palatable to American sensibilities.

"There is a sensuality in art, and I wanted to use nudity to create an art of sensuality. When I posed for Playboy the first time, I was disappointed that I was unable to express my emotions and energy and sexuality through my art. The photos were artistic and I proved that (text concluded on page 170)Farrah(continued from page 129) the mystery of a woman, the way she holds something back, the way she sits, is more interesting and in fact more arousing than something blatant. I proved it because it ended up being one of the best-selling issues ever.

"But I still hadn't done everything I wanted to do. I needed some closure. The body painting was still on my mind. I had taken a film crew to document the original shooting on St. Barts because I knew it would be a life-altering experience. And when Playboy contacted me about incorporating that footage in a film, which turned out to be Farrah Fawcett: All of Me, we talked about filming me sculpting and body painting. That was the reason I decided I would appear nude. You don't feel quite so nude wearing paint, but it's still not easy doing a shoot without your clothes. You're still naked and everyone else is dressed.

"This entire experience has been a renaissance for me in every way. I no longer feel those restrictions emotionally, artistically, creatively or in my everyday life. I don't feel those borders anymore. There is pain with any growth, with any rebirth, but the result is profoundly fulfilling.

"It was a struggle and it was very hard work both emotionally and physically. But it was the least self-conscious I've ever been in front of a camera. And I've been looked at my whole life, but the act of painting made the camera disappear. I forgot it was there. It was amazing. I was totally nude and there were 75 people standing around, and I forgot they were there. I've never liked having anyone watch me create art, because it can be inhibiting, but I just blocked them out. I couldn't stop when the director yelled 'Cut.' I was totally into it."

Somehow, judging from these pictures and the film of Farrah painting, one tends to believe her. She is genuinely into it. It's not acting. That rapt quality makes her presence exponentially more erotic than a woman consciously doing something overtly sexual.

"Learning to work like that without really thinking about it was a gift. I realized that I tend to overanalyze when I paint or sculpt. This time I followed my instincts completely. Even though I let in those demons of fear, once I got started it was automatic. Sometimes it looks erotically primitive, a little like Quest for Fire, but I think the results are pure."

Maybe Farrah has finally learned to paint the way she acts. Her most recent director is Robert Duvall, who co-stars with her in The Apostle, an independent film to be released later this year. He considers Farrah to be a truly great actress because she doesn't act. Meaning that she doesn't premeditate, she doesn't analyze, she just does it. Duvall isn't the only fan of Fawcett's acting. Word of mouth on the picture is great.

"I had never met Robert Duvall," says Farrah, "but when he was doing publicity for Wrestling Hemingway, he gave an interview in which he said, 'I'll tell you, one of the most underrated actresses is Farrah Fawcett. Watching Farrah act is like eating caviar.' Then a couple of years ago he contacted my agent about this project. He sent me the script and said I could do either of the two main women's roles.

"When we met he asked me about specific moments in my acting, whether I had planned something or if it had just happened. He doesn't like acting that's visible, when you can see the machinery. I couldn't remember what I'd done, but I knew that he was talking about being spontaneous, in the moment.

"The first day we just did our scenes. I realized you have to be careful about what you wish for--you might get it. Because he hardly gave me any direction and all of a sudden I felt I didn't know what to do. So the second day I said, 'Bobby, I just wanted to say that if there's anything you want to tell me, because I really don't think I've found my character, just tell me.' He just looked at me and, after a long pause, said, 'Oh, I think you found her.'

"Sometimes after a take he would just look at me and say, 'God, you are good!' I guess it was because I'm slightly unpredictable. I don't consciously plan everything I'm going to do."

Farrah may not know what she's going to do until she does it, but she knows what she'd like to do. She would like to get back into her studio and create more art. She hasn't worked on her sculpture for two years. Then again, it's being a brilliant actress that brings home the bacon. It's being in the moment in front of a camera that enables her to act automatically and instinctively, and it looks like that's the direction her art will be taking. Farrah Fawcett is a creature of instinct. Instinct comes from inside. Talent too. And they say that's where beauty comes from as well.

"Acting is standing up naked and turning around very slowly."

"This entire experience has been a renaissance for me in every way. I no longer feel those restrictions."