MYSTERIES
MYSTERIES
Episode 1: Part 4
What does it mean to lose your muse? In this episode, we explore the emotional wreckage left in the wake of George Dyer’s death—and how Francis Bacon transformed grief into haunting art. From veiled portraits to public detachment, we unpack the mythology of the tortured artist, class tensions in post-war England, and whether art can ever truly save the artist behind it.
Episode 1: Part 3
By the time George Dyer entered Francis Bacon’s life, the painter was already a star—famous, lionized, hanging at the Tate. Dyer, a fragile East End thief, wasn’t just a lover—he became a fixation, a figure Bacon painted again and again as he unraveled. In this episode, we explore the volatile dynamic between obsession and inspiration, kink and control, and how Bacon’s most personal love became his most haunting work.
Episode 1: Part 2
Francis Bacon was no stranger to pain—he painted it, lived it, and at times, seemed to need it. In this episode, we explore his volatile relationship with Peter Lacy, a former WWII fighter pilot whose post-war trauma spilled into their love affair. From shattered windows to shattered canvases, we examine the disturbing blend of violence, obsession, and eroticism that defined their bond. Was it devotion? Self-destruction? Or something darker that fueled Bacon’s greatest works?
Episode 1: Part 1
Before the fame, before the lovers, Francis Bacon was just a sickly, sensitive boy—shuffled between countries, rejected by his father, and brutalized in the name of discipline. In this episode, co-hosts Ron Silver and West Moss peel back the layers of Bacon’s formative years, uncovering the emotional wreckage that shaped his life and his art. It's a disturbing but essential chapter in understanding how pain became his palette.
INTRO
Welcome to {framed} mysteries — a podcast digging into the shadows behind the art world’s brightest works. From stolen Nazi art to violent love affairs, we unravel the dark legacies, forgotten crimes, and emotional wreckage behind so-called genius. What’s behind the canvas might just change how you see the art.