SHOW of the Week: Peggy Guggenheim Unveils the Artistic Treasures of Jean Cocteau

If you're a fan of anything that borders on the surreal, the wacky, or the avant-garde, there's no way you don't know the work of surrealist master, poet, writer and filmmaker Jean Cocteau. And if you're not familiar, sit down and make sure you put pen to paper: it's time for a history lesson with Peggy Guggenheim thanks to the gallery's latest exhibition Jean Cocteau: The Juggler’s Revenge.

Although not an official Collateral Event of the Venice Biennale, it would be rude not to pay the exhibition a visit, owing to its inclusion of over 150 works by Cocteau himself, traversing the mediums of drawing, jewellery, film, literature, graphic design, and book art - positioning the French maestro as a 'juggler' of artistic endeavours that saw him entertain his creative talents in all directions over the course of the 20th century.

Not just providing an introspective lens into Cocteau's multifaceted practise, the exhibition decidedly hones in on themes that came to influence Cocteau's work again and again. Tapping into the artist's complete oeuvre, The Juggler’s Revenge reflects on Orpheus and poetry, Eros, classicism in art, Venice and his relationship with Peggy Guggenheim, also supplying a pensive look at his work in cinema, design, fashion and jewellery. Cubism, Dadaism and Surrealism are hinted at just as his influence on Andy Warhol, Félix Gonzáles-Torres and Pedro Almodóvar is brought to light.

Housed in what once was Peggy Guggenheim's own 18th-century palace, the show is advertised to all through one black-and-white image that cuts through the noise to reveal what is not only at the heart of the exhibition, but also Cocteau's own practice: an astonishing variety and ability to add the 'Cocteau flair' to pretty much anything he touched. Showing Monsieur Cocteau in a trick pose with a total of six arms (yes, you read that right) flailing about holding anything and everything - a book, cigarette, scissors, pen and paintbrush in this case - the image stands as a visual personification of a man who refused to cower to his own artistic limitations.

Although such extensive creative output is only encouraged amongst today's burgeoning creatives, the same cannot be said for 100 years ago - when Cocteau was in his prime. As he danced through the upper echelons of Europe's art and literature circuit, unlike many of his peers, Cocteau refused to be pinned down by one medium. Picasso predominantly had his paint just as the equally experimental Man Ray had his camera, but Cocteau continued to jiggle or, as the exhibition puts it, juggle, the talents he was blessed with - only 100 years on has revenge been served to all that once cast a doubtful eye over the artist's delightfully endless scribblings, viewing them 'as an over-extension across various pursuits'.

This year marks 100 years since Cocteau contemporary Andre Breton published the first Manifeste du surréalisme, adding importance to such surreal interpretations as seen in The Juggler’s Revenge. However, the show's prestigiousness doesn't just stop there: the exhibition also marks Italy's first ever retrospective of Cocteau works - and what better time to show them than in conjunction with the 60th International Art Exhibition - Biennale di Venezia 2024. Cocteau embodied the cultural, social, and political contradictions of his age, just like many of the 331 artists involved in this year's Venice Biennale, whether that be John Akomfrah or Yinka Shonibare, Julien Creuzet or Șerban Savu.

Curator Silver said in a statement:

'The Juggler’s Revenge provides an ideal opportunity to revisit the art of Cocteau and to see him with a fresh 21st-century point of view. His astonishing artistic range - for which, in his lifetime, he was often criticised for spreading himself too thin - now looks prescient, a model for the kind of wide-ranging cultural fluidity we now expect of contemporary artists. All this, in addition to his more-or-less forthright homosexuality, as well as his very public struggles with drug addiction, make him look especially modern. Perhaps the world has finally caught up with Jean Cocteau.'

Thanks to his effortlessly adopting a cultural fluidity, coupling it with a remarkably visible adaptability, Cocteau (and his work) danced through much of the 20th century, beaming with a kind of childlike joy few could turn away from. Although it wasn't Cocteau who said 'It's better to have tried and failed than to have not tried at all', as far as The Juggler’s Revenge is concerned, trying and succeeding is the only thing Cocteau knew how to do well.