Friday, April 25, 2014

Islamic Art


On October 16 we met with Amy L to discuss Islamic art at the Walters.

Amy first noted that almost all Islamic objects in the current collection were purchased by Henry Walters.  Very few have been acquired since his bequest.   A relatively small collection of 1200 objects was bequeathed, and of course not all of them are on view.  

The study of Islamic art is humbling, covering as it does a huge geography, a multitude of languages and diverse ethnic groups.  It is also misunderstood by many people, who draw conclusions based on a few known facts.   

Amy assumed that we had knowledge gleaned from reading our Art History texts, so she jumped right in.  The following are excerpts from the Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History as background; many of the same points were made by Amy in her discussion:  
Born in Mecca, in western Arabia, Muhammad (ca. 570–632) received his first revelation in 610.  Muslims believe that the word of God was revealed to Muhammad by the archangel Gabriel in Arabic.  These revelations were subsequently collected and codified as the Qur’an (literally "recitation" in Arabic), the Muslim holy book. As the source of Muslim faith and practice, the Qur’an describes the relationship between an almighty and all-knowing God and his creations. The Qur’an also maintains that all individuals are responsible for their actions, for which they will be judged by God, and so it provides guidelines for proper behavior within the framework of a just and equitable society. 
The term Islamic art not only describes the art created specifically in the service of the Muslim faith (for example, a mosque and its furnishings) but also characterizes the art and architecture historically produced in the lands ruled by Muslims, produced for Muslim patrons, or created by Muslim artists. As it is not only a religion but a way of life, Islam fostered the development of a distinctive culture with its own unique artistic language that is reflected in art and architecture throughout the Muslim world. 
Calligraphy is the most highly regarded and most fundamental element of Islamic art. It is significant that the Qur’an, the book of God's revelations to the Prophet Muhammad, was transmitted in Arabic, and that inherent within the Arabic script is the potential for developing a variety of ornamental forms. The employment of calligraphy as ornament had a definite aesthetic appeal but often also included an underlying talismanic component. 
Because calligraphy is so prominent in Islamic art, Amy started by discussing a Qur'an then on display.   (Qur'ans on display rotate every three months.) Because the books on display change frequently, and the pages are turned often, we discussed general principles.  The Qur'an is written in poetic prose and divided into 114 chapters, organized according to the length of each chapter (longest to shortest).  The divine words spoken to Muhammed were compiled into a book circa 650 "according to some traditions."  Muhammed believed he was a prophet, and that the divine words were a continuation of words spoken to Moses, Abraham and even Jesus.

In illuminated Qur'ans, medallions are often used to mark chapter headings and titles.  Accents and recitation marks, often in red, are marked as aids to those reading aloud.  The book should be read from right to left, and from back to front.  There were 6 main calligraphic styles.  Arabic manuscripts were often printed on paper, introduced in the 8th C. from China, as it was less expensive than parchment.

The divine words were so important to Muslims that the Qur'an was memorized, often in its entirety.  Students wrote in ink on Qur'an boards like this one.


Once a verse was memorized, the board was washed off with water, and the student could start afresh. The water was treated with great reverence, for it was believed to contain the words of God.   It was saved and used like holy water, and at times was used to ward off illnesses.

The five pillars of Islam are the foundation of Muslim life and belief.  They are: 
1.  Profession of faith
2. Ritual prayer 5x day
3. Charity to the poor
4. Fasting during Ramadan
5. Pilgrimage to Mecca if able at least once during lifetime

Islamic art is often dedicated to one of the five pillars.  For example, a mihrab is a niche in a mosque or other Muslim religious building that indicates the direction for prayer toward Mecca. It also recalls the place where the prophet Muhammad stood to lead the early Muslim community in prayer, and symbolizes both the entrance of God's presence into the place of worship and the gateway to heaven. Ceramic plaques in the shape of "mihrabs" are often found in shrines and mausoleums and on tombstones.  This mihrab plaque displays a verse that enjoins daily prayer, and marks the direction of prayer toward Mecca.  



This plaque was used to print a certificate indicating that the holder had gone to Mecca on pilgrimage.  The entire surface of this unusual object is reverse engraved with Qur'anic verses, prayers, and invocations to God, the prophet Muhammad, and other religious leaders. 

The three lines of Arabic writing in the upper part of this large, ceramic wall tile are from the third chapter of the Qur'an, and exhort the Muslim faithful to make the pilgrimmage to Mecca. The rest of the tile is given over to a bird's-eye representation of the Great Mosque in Mecca, with the Ka'ba, Islam's holiest shrine, in the center surrounded by various other structures, all identified in Arabic, and a rectangular portico around the courtyard. 

                                   

Amy next turned to "what is in the mosque?" and directed our attention to some objects that either depict the mosque or were used in the mosque.  The potter who decorated this plate chose to depict an architectural interior- possibly a shrine- as if it were a flat façade, with domes over the building's three principle units. The central niche probably represents a "mihrab," orienting the building to Mecca. The large lamp, rendered here in blue, is typical of traditional lighting fixtures in mosques and other religious buildings. It hangs over a low, cross-shaped bookstand intended to hold a copy of the Qur'an.


Islamic religious buildings traditionally were lit with glass lamps, generally called mosque lamps, that hung from chains. In 16th-century Turkey, it was common to make mosque lamps from glazed ceramic and to pair them with round or oval ornaments. Such ceramic pieces were of little use as lighting fixtures. They may have functioned, however, as acoustic devices, hung in groups to soften the echo of voices in the prayer hall. Mosque lamps were also symbols of divine light.


Ornamental spheres symbolized the orb of heaven and were paired with lamps. This piece once hung with a lamp, possibly in either the mosque or mausoleum of Sultan Selim I in Istanbul. The inscription around the body of the sphere is a hadith, or saying attributed to the prophet Muhammad: "The world is only one hour, so hasten to prayer before dying and hasten to repent before death."


Many beautiful items were made for secular use.  Items for secular use could include pictorial representations of animals and human figure.  The enthroned king in the center of this hammered and carved silver bowl is flanked on the right by an attendant waving a fly whisk and on the left by a noble or princely figure holding a beaded diadem. The ends of the bowl are adorned with dancing girls, whose long scarves fly backward toward the central scene.  Such silver vessels were common in Iran during the Sassanian rule, which ended in 651.  


This candlestick base from Egypt was commissioned by a royal cupbearer in the late 13th Century. Metalwork was an Islamic art form from earliest times that continued and thrived in the later years.  This piece is brass inlaid with silver, gold and copper.  


It was not unusual for Christians to patronize Islamic arts, especially luxury arts for secular use.  In the 11th - 13th Centuries, large numbers of Christians traveled in Moslem lands, as pilgrims or crusaders.  Christian communities were sometimes established in Moslem lands, and Islamic imagery often combines with Christian themes on lovely custom-made glass and metal pieces, like these beakers.  

This period is sometimes described as the Crusader period, but Amy would not go so far as to say that they were souvenirs carried back by Crusaders.  

Overall, one can be very impressed by the sophistication of Islamic culture and beauty and intricacy of the arts, especially the luxury arts.  We ran out of time in the small room dedicated to more secular works, but it is definitely worth a longer visit.  



Thursday, April 3, 2014

Dutch Cabinet Rooms and the Chamber of Wonders

On October 9, we met with Joaneath again to discuss 17th Century Dutch art and the Walters' fabulous Chamber of Wonders.

Joaneath started in the Dutch Cabinet rooms with an explanation of the "hang" at the Walters.   The 17th Century in Dutch art is considered the "Golden Age" dominated by several amazing painters - Rembrandt, Rubens, Vermeer, for example.  The National Gallery of Art in Washington has rooms with such masterpieces.  The Walters has not one.  But, as Joaneath said, our museum is not required to put out a sign that says, "We have no Rembrandts here," so the Walters has chosen to play on its strengths and offer visitors a different sense of the past.

There are two Dutch Cabinet rooms, designed to show how such rooms in the Dutch Republic would have looked in about 1690.  Even the walls and woodwork are characteristic of 1690.  Joaneath noted how the molding on the dark colored walls creates frames, and noted how the Dutch at this time were developing a sense of "decor" new to sensibilities at the time.  Paintings within a "frame" created by the molding tended to stick with a theme, and the organization of paintings gave the patron an ability to be a bit creative.

Holland was ruled by William and Mary in 1690, and English things would have been coming into the country.  At this time in history, Protestant courts and countries stuck together, as did Catholic courts and countries, and the "twain" did not often meet.  The Protestantism of the Dutch Republic was highly influential on its art.  The Dutch, particularly, were seagoing people and explorers.  Thus, a Dutch merchant's home would likely have contained Chinese porcelains, and it was a major shift to see such porcelains used purely for decorative purposes.


Joaneath pointed out the chest, which was made by a Dutch craftsman and decorated with a Westerner's view of Eastern subjects.  From the catalog:
This cabinet was made by a Dutch craftsman to imitate the expensive lacquered Chinese and Japanese chests imported by the Dutch East India Company. The painter adapted some motifs, such as the pagodas on the drawer fronts, from Chinese porcelains, but the figures are only Asian by virtue of their long embroidered coats with sashes. The headwear, including feather headdresses, is completely fanciful. Some figures are actually Native Americans, adapted from engravings of 1584 reporting English explorations of Virginia. On the exterior side panels are remarkable adaptations of engravings recording a French expedition of 1564 to Florida. Young "Floridians" play competitive games while beautiful birds imaginative renderings of the bird of paradise from the East Indies swoop around them. The maker surely hoped that his customers would just enjoy the exotic details.


Also part of the new emphasis on "decor" was the introduction of the practice we would now call "tablescaping," designed to showcase objects not just for their aesthetic beauty but to create a pesonal narrative for the owner of the home.  So for example, this Russian drinking cup might show that the merchant had frequent trade in Russia, an important trading partner of the Dutch at the time.   

During the early 1600s, Dutch merchants were in Moscow actively pursuing the Russian fur trade. They brought gifts for the court that apparently included Dutch metalwork, which influenced the style of local craftsman. Their work, in turn, would have been prized as gifts to be taken back to Holland. This characteristic "bratina" (from the Russian "brat," meaning brother) was to be passed around at feasts. The embossed, chased decoration with masks and flowing forms draws on the work of Dutch silversmiths at mid-century, epitomized by Johannes Lutma.


Although Russia may have been considered the "wild west" at the time, the Dutch developed good relationships with the Kremlin.   The Kremlin now has a large collection of Dutch silver made by Dutch craftsmen for Russian tastes.  Small objects traveled easily and became part of a culture of mercantile gift exchange. 

And this covered cup, with its "extraordinary curvilinear style," is indicative of an interest in the underwater world (important for the seafaring Dutch) and the more natural forms found in nature and in the human body.


 The Dutch imposed their own ideas of beauty on foreign things, such as this carving and casing for an exotic coconut shell from a foreign clime.  The inscription read "drunkenness is the root of all evil." There are also incriptions indicating that the shell was carved by a father and mounted in silver by his daughter in his honor.


On to the paintings.  

The first Dutch room is somewhat dominated by this painting of Prince Maurits with his horse and groom.  While it may seem odd to focus so much on the horse, Joaneath noted that Prince Maurits was successful as the commander of the republic's military forces and as a breeder of horses.  Maurits is depicted in a field in a kind of "double portrait" with an immense dapple-gray war horse that he is training.  It may be the offspring of a prize dapple-gray Spanish war horse (a breed famous since antiquity), captured by Maurits's forces from the Spanish Habsburg commander Archduke Albert, bred with a heavier northern European war horse.  Thus, the horse represents a trophy.


Animal subjects were  becoming more popular in the 17th C.  As religious art declined in Protestant Holland, painters chose other ways to show that the message of God can be found all around.  Other new subjects included landscapes and, particularly for the Dutch, seascapes.  The sea was a source of wealth and pride for the Dutch, as well as a source of death and danger, and their art reflected it.  By the end of the 17th C., landscapes reflected an emphasis on the enormity of sea and sky, and thus the fragility of life.  Diagonal lines draw the eye up to the sky, which takes up 2/3 of the painting.  


Moral lessons were imparted through paintings, just not with religious subjects.  For example, the painting below warns of the dangers of sloth, one of the seven deadly sins.  The devil, identified by his horns and tail, sows weeds (or tares) in the field where wheat has been planted, while the lazy peasants are sleeping. The dovecote (a birdhouse to attract doves or pigeons that can be trapped for food without the bother of raising them) was associated with the morally lazy who take the easy way. The goat, known for its lust, alludes to self-indulgence, and the peacock, to pride. The artist, Bloemaert, was gifted in depicting natural detail, but he never painted pure landscapes, preferring pictures with a lesson.


It was in the Dutch Republic that the family portrait first became a significant subject, particularly among the middle class. This is due, in part, to the important role of women in Dutch society as well as to the prosperity and political power of the middle class. The seated parents are surrounded by their children, who stand in respect. The souls of infants who died young or were stillborn hover above. The rural setting indicates that the family has property; however, their attire is sober, excepting the lustrous, East-Indian pearls worn by the girls, possibly to suggest the dowries they will bring to marriage. In addition, the two girls of marriageable age carry roses - they are "ripe for the picking." The boys have one hand on the hip, a gesture of determination, associated in portraiture with the man "on guard," ready to defend the family. Maybe the family members did all look alike, but, more likely, this provincial artist was unable to register the distinctions.


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Finally, we were on to the Chamber of Wonders.

The entrance to the suite of rooms containing the Chamber of Wonders is designed to be typical of Northern Renaissance mansions.  In the North, it was typical to show the arms and armor of your ancestors, and collectible items acquired on campaign.  Turkish armor might have been taken from dead enemies; Japanese armor may have been acquired as diplomatic gifts.  By the 16th and 17th C., firearms were also part of the regular arsenal, but tournament armor remained important.  Boys' armor was designed to look like their fathers', and boys participated in tournaments.

Off to the side is the collector's study, where the wealthy scholar would retreat to literally "study" objects collected by or for the scholar.  Collectors at this time developed a passion for organizing their objects, but without much information they resorted to grouping them by material or type.  "Study" was done by a process of compare and contrast.  In this room, that convention has been followed, so there are cases of objects in metals, in glass or rock crystal, in ivory, and in wood, to name a few.  Around the top of the room are portraits of inspiring people.  Commonly found in such studies were watches and timepieces, which were objects of wonder, as well as skulls and "memento mori" to remind the scholar that while genius lives on, all else is mortal.


The Chamber of Wonders is literally a "crown jewel" of the Walters.


There is an important wunderkammer tradition, and books aplenty have been written about it.  According to Joaneath, it can be described as a tradition of exploration and wonder.  In other words, things come to you, you value those things for what they can teach you, and you wonder - where did it come from?  What does it mean? What is happening?  In an age upset by the notion that the sun is the center of the universe, God's plan was not clear.   Those who cultivated their chambers of wonders believed that God revealed Himself in the extra-ordinary - miracles, omens, signs.  To study these one must bring together extraordinary things and try to create a sense of order.   Extraordinary things from nature, from human achievement, from the heavens, all were studied for the purposes of drawing connections and making sense of the world.  What makes a group?  Things that fly?  What about a flying squirrel (or a square mouse, as they called it)?

Paintings recorded these attempts.  And paintings also recorded virtuosity, the hand of the artist.  There are many paintings of things that scholars wished to study.  So, for example, this Panorama of the Abduction of Helen Amidst the Wonders of the Ancient World by Heemskerck is an homage to ancient art in Rome.  16th- or 17th-century Europeans could call on this celebration of ancient ingenuity to validate their own. In 1535, when Heemskerck painted this panorama, scholars were still disputing which of these monuments were the most marvelous. This luminous panorama is one of the most famous Northern landscapes of the 1500s; its array of ancient marvels and evidence of antiquity's greatness provided a picture-puzzle for the viewer, challenging him to locate and identify the pieces.   The point of studying these wonders is not to know that they were beautiful but to wonder:  How did they do it?


Joaneath was very excited to show us this remarkable portrait of a wealthy man of African ancestry from Renaissance Europe.  She noted that the chain he wears is of the type usually received as a gift for service in a royal Court, marking this individual as someone of rank and privilege.  It must have been possible for a person of African descent to rise to social heights in the age of wonders and marvels.    


On to a painting that we have seen before, and will use often on tours.  Joaneath's description matched almost precisely this description from the catalog:  

This painting of a private gallery or cabinet of a Flemish collector depicts a visit by Archdukes Albert and Isabella, the Habsburg governors of the Southern Netherlands. Isabella is seated, while her husband stands to her right and their unidentified host, behind. The walls are covered with paintings by Flemish artists [but other small objects in the room are from all over the world]. The sculpture displayed throughout is from various schools, but includes the bronze "Allegory of Architecture" by Giambologna, a Flemish sculptor who made his fortune in Florence. A painted "Allegory of Iconoclasm," depicting people who destroy art as animals, rests against a chair. Visitors examining paintings and objects on the tables draw the viewer's attention to these objects, as well as shells and a stuffed bird of paradise, from the Spice Islands. Pets include a monkey, kept out of mischief on a chain, and a dog, apparently with two heads (an alteration by the artist that has "bled" through). The globe-like object on the table at the left is one of Cornelis Drebbels' attempts at a perpetual-motion clock; the principles which ran it are now lost. Albert's and Isabella's role as rulers and patrons of the arts is celebrated here in an unprecedented way. The immense vase of flowers by Jan Brueghel, the greatest Flemish flower painter, is crowned by a large sunflower. This South American flower which could grow to be 14 feet tall and could turn toward the sun, was first seen by Europeans in the mid-1500s. It had been illustrated as a New World wonder in botanical treatises, but this is its earliest inclusion in a painting and its earliest use as a symbol of princely patronage. In turning to the sun (but here toward Albert and Isabella), it symbolizes the way that the arts grow and blossom in the light and warmth of princely patronage.


Joaneath compared the use of the sunflower in our painting to the famous self-portrait by Van Dyke with the sunflower turning to its source of life, the painter.  [This painting is now in a private collection.]  


She also noted the symbolism of another flower in the arrangement, the Crown Imperial, also evoking royal patronage.

In general, artists in the age of "wonders" enjoyed painting impossible arrangements of flowers, using flowers from different countries, even continents, and from different seasons.  It was almost like saying the artist had more power than God, but not quite.

Finally, Joaneath told us a series of amusing stories about acquiring the natural specimens in the room.  Chambers of wonders almost always included "natural wonders" and the Walters Chamber had to have a lot.  Still, there was no budget for acquiring things that were not "art."  Joaneath set about a program to acquire each of the natural history specimens using no museum funds.  Some she did purchase on eBay, then compiled a list for private donors to reimburse her.  But she also contacted hunters, asking for specimens they shot.  She scoured sources for confiscated items.  The great sea turtle shell had been confiscated by the government and was being held in a warehouse in Denver - the government agreed to donate that, and other things, provided only that any object must fit into a FedEx box.

The sawtooth on the wall had an especially interesting story.   Joaneath despaired of finding one because of legal limitations on the catching and use of such objects.  When she had almost given up, she attended a crafts fair on her own time and came upon a stall of "nautical art."  There, with a lovely painting across it, was the sawtooth she'd been looking for.  She ascertained that it was legal to buy (it was, having been caught long before the ban) and purchased it.  The lovingly-executed painting by an unknown nautical artist is turned to the wall, so that the Walters visitors may enjoy the "wonder" of this exotic sea specimen.

There is so much to see in and to say about the Chamber of Wonders.  It is one of the best places in the museum.

Next week, on to Islamic art.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Renaissance Part II and Baroque

Day three with Dr. Joaneath S.  Today we are back in the Italian paintings galleries, starting in the Renaissance.

An aside - as it turns out, the Walters has the second largest collection of Italian paintings from the later Middle Ages through the 18th century in the United States, second only to the Metropolitan Museum in New York.  Henry Walters purchased his first significant Renaissance painting, The Madonna of the Candelabra, in 1901, but the most momentous acquisition came in 1902, when Henry acquired the Massarenti collection.  The dubious reputation of the Massarenti collection was not justified, and although it did not contain the paintings by masters such as Giotto, Leonardo da Vinci, Tintoretto and Caravaggio that were advertised in an 1897 puff piece, it did contain crucial works by important Italian painters.  Henry continued to acquire works until his death, and after the Walters opened as a public museum in 1934 its holdings of Italian works have been strategically expanded.

The Italian Renaissance held a particular fascination for Henry, as it did for other American millionaires of the period.   Henry's association with the art agent Bernard Berenson furthered this interest, as Berenson was responsible for transmitting ideas about the Renaissance to the American collecting public.  Plus, the notions of the wealthy industrialist patronizing the arts and the worldly individualism of the Renaissance were right in line with Henry's view of the world.

So, we started on October 2 in the 16th century in Italy, in a gallery "dense with delicious paintings," according to Joaneath.  Again, we discussed the notion of the Renaissance patron, who by this time was interested in realistic portraits.  In keeping with the humanism of the Renaissance, especially in the later years, they dispensed with the idea that only religious paintings were acceptable and commissioned portraits for their homes.  These portraits were quite realistic - patrons wanted "likenesses" of face, even of clothing and jewelry. In fact, there was an emphasis on attire; how one presented oneself was an important part of the message of the painting.

This emphasis on portraiture was existing at the same time as art was moving to Mannerism, but since patrons wanted realism Mannerism doesn't show up as much in portraits.  You can see a slight elongation of the face and fingers in this portrait of Maria Salviatti, but overall the likeness is very good.


Joaneath spent a lot of time talking about this picture.  It has an interesting history.  It came into the collection as a portrait of Vittoria Colonna (a friend of Michelangelo's) and the child was painted out.  When the child was discovered in the 1930's, a debate began as to his/her identity.  Apparently, it was easy to recognize the woman as Maria Salviatti, the mother of Cosimo de Medici.  The child was originally identified as Cosimo, but there are lots of reasons why that identification is problematic:  the tender relation between the woman and child does not fit Cosimo's tough personality, the portrait was painted in about 1539 when Cosimo was already a grown man, and the child has features and attributes that would suggest she is a girl.  Joaneath and many (but not all) other scholars now believe that the child was Cosimo's cousin Giulia de Medici, the illegitimate child of Allesandro de Medici.  Giulia's grandmother was an African slave in the house of Medici in Rome.  Although Giulia's ancestry is not resolved, and not all scholars agree, Joaneath is convinced that this is one of the earliest, if not the earliest, portraits of a girl of African descent in European art.  Joaneath's scholarly article on this topic can be found here.

Back to portraits in general, Joaneath noted that the function of a portrait is to convey information.  Thus, during this Renaissance period, we see a high degree of realism, frontal views, pyramidal or other very stable forms, and a focus on the faces and forms without background distraction.

We went next to this portrait of Marquess Massimiliano Stampa by Sofonisba Anguissola.  Again, Joaneath had interesting contextual stories.  Sofonisba Anguissola was a woman artist in 16th century Cremona, Italy.  Women painters in this era existed, but they could not join guilds or train with most other artists because they could not study and work from nude models.  Furthermore, aristocratic women, the ones most likely to have the means to learn to paint, could never work or get paid for their work.  Nevertheless, some talented women turned to portraiture, something they could do in the confines of the home.  Sofonisba was a talented artist from a young age, and she practiced by painting her siblings.  When she began to paint, her father attempted to arrange "payment" by accepting gifts on her behalf.


With her painting of this young Marquess, Sofonisba's career really took off.  The young Marquess was only 9 when his father died.  Sofonisba has used various symbols and techniques to paint the child realistically but with trappings of adulthood to show that he is ready to do his duty.  He wears a rapier, a type of sword worn by gentlemen not for battle but always ready to protect their honor; his hunting spaniel is his faithful friend; he carries gloves, a sign of a gentleman.  The Marquess stands next to a column; the 16th century eye would have presumed he was very tall in comparison to the column base. Sofonisba has used all her tools to produce a beautifully integrated and executed portrait.

This portrait received a lot of attention, and within a year Sofonisba was invited to be a court painter in the court of the king of Spain.  As a "lady in waiting" she could paint the members of the court to her heart's content without running afoul of contemporary notions of what an aristocratic woman should do.

Another portrait by another famous woman artist depicts a widow with a dog, Ginevra Hercolani.  Her elaborate mourning costume - with costly brocade, lace, and pearls - indicates her high social status. She holds a handkerchief, suggesting the tears she shed at her husband's death. The little lapdog with a jeweled collar was a breed fashionable among 16th century noblewomen.


This portrait differs from others in this gallery by the background, the massive chair, the heavy curtains, all suggesting a wealthy solid environment.   Ginevra was a responsible and powerful woman after her husband's death; Lavinia Fontana was one of the most sought-after portraitists in her native Bologna and one of the first to manage a career in painting outside of a royal court.

Joaneath next directed our attention to a case full of "dishes" to discuss the Renaissance fascination with enamel ware.  In the 16th century in Italy (and in France after Marie de Medici  married the French king) eating was very ceremonial, and it was the fashion to display beautiful tableware.  Thus, the "sideboard" was developed to allow for both storage and display.  Catherine de Medici became a great patron and admirer of painted enamel on copper from Limoges, France.  (Remember Limoges was already a center for enamel work in the Middle Ages.)  Her portrait hangs above the sideboard with Limoges enamel in the 16th century gallery.


We left portraiture aside and went next to discuss this painting of Jacob's Dream.  This painting was meant for a ceiling, and was completed by someone more known as an art historian than an artist, Giorgio Vasari.  (Vasari's Lives of the Artists is an important resource for students of Renaissance art.)


Vasari paid homage to other artists even in his painting.  In Jacob's Dream, the hand of God is reminiscent of the hand of God on the Sistine Ceiling, and the staircase is drawn from Michelangelo's design for the Laurentian Library in Florence.  Jacob himself recalls a figure from a work by Raphael.  Vasari was an artist and an architect.  His skill as a draftsman can be seen in four panel drawings that allow a student to see his working process.


The 16th century galleries contain a few works not Italian.  Joaneath directed our attention to this work by El Greco, who was of Greek origin but working in Spain.  El Greco was a great master of grisaille, or the art of working in grey.  Joaneath described his work as on the cusp between Mannerism and Baroque.  She also directed our attention to the "post-it note" apparently stuck to the painting, an example of El Greco's sense of humor.


Another development in art at this time was the big market for images of the saints intended for display in the home.  In the late 16th century, these were being sold and displayed as works of art, and were often moved from place to place.  Thus, this work could have been painted for the cell of a monastery or a room at home.

I missed the afternoon session on October 2, but John has given us a long list of works that Joaneath discussed.  The last of the works from the 16th century was this Allegory of the Element Earth, which John has used before for examples of what to do with children.  From an art history perspective, it seems worth noting that the work evokes classical ideals, mythology and architecture for an audience familiar with humanism's focus on the ancient world.  The artist, Leandro Bassano, executed this replica from an original by his father; this family of artists were among the first in Italian art to fill their works with "low life" subject and natural details.  The dramatic modeling in light and shade ("chiaroscuro") is done with rich layers of oil paint, and colors stand out brilliantly against dark shadows.


This Supper at Emmaus is remarkable for the presence of a black Egyptian at Christ's right hand. Depicted here is the moment just before the disciples realize that the wise stranger who "breaks bread" with them is Christ. The biblical story does not note other companions. However, here they are joined by a black soldier, an Egyptian as identified by the characteristic red, wooly headdress. He leans toward Christ, apparently passing him a dish. Seated and a soldier, he cannot be a servant. Egyptian soldiers were often in Venice with diplomatic missions. The man's inclusion conveys the universality of Christ's promise of salvation.


This Kitchen Scene by Dirck de Vries was painted in a Venetian style by a Netherlandish artist in about 1600.  As in the Netherlandish tradition, the kitchen of this wealthy home is full of everyday details, such as meat hung to dry. The cook reaches for the roosters offered by the tradesman. In Dutch, plays on the word for "bird" can refer to sexual intercourse. In the lusty manner of Netherlandish paintings and popular prints of market folk, the man is propositioning the cook in front of her mistress, who does not understand peasant "body language." The lady's dress and platform shoes (chopines) identify her and the setting as Venetian, and de Vries has adopted the broad brush strokes of his Venetian colleagues.



Since I missed Joaneath's discussion of the Baroque entirely, I'm on my own with the readings and the catalogue for this next part.  But the galleries are rich with paintings that would be fun to have on tour, so I'm going to give it a try.

Art historians generally describe 17th-century European art as Baroque.  Whatever the reason for the name, a distinctive new style emerged in the 17th century, a style of complexity and drama especially in Italian art.  Baroque artists embraced dynamism, theatricality, and elaborate ornamentation, often on a grandiose scale.  A big building campaign in Rome was intended to showcase the power and glory of the Church (these were the years of the Counter-Reformation, after all) and Carlo Maderno was designing churches and Gianlorenzo Bernini was finishing St. Peter's inside and out.  Heady stuff.

Bernini was the greatest sculptor of his age. He imbued figures of both metal and marble with an unsurpassed sense of life and motion.  The Walters has a few small sculptures that demonstrate Bernini's genius.  In 1673, Bernini was commissioned by Pope Clement X to design gilded figures of the twelve apostles and the Risen Christ to crown the tabernacle of the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament in St. Peter's Basilica. Working from Bernini's designs, Giovanni Rinaldi made the models. Girolamo Lucenti, the bronze founder, had problems casting the Risen Christ, and the initial bronze cast had a flaw across its chest. This cast, now partially repaired and in the Walters' collection, was left in a rough state.  Christ's idealized body recalls ancient sculptures of the sun-god Apollo, praised as having a perfect physique. His striding pose is beautifully balanced while his ascent toward heaven is suggested by the deeply carved, fluttering drapery, seemingly responding to an invisible wind and creating a strong play of light and shadow.



At the Walters, it is easier to concentrate on painting from these years.  Baroque artists favored open and dynamic forms.  Artists began to develop styles that focused on the relationship between color, light and shade as observed in nature.  Caravaggio introduced a radically novel way of painting by creating dark spaces seemingly lit by a single intense source.  His followers began to use his methods to create still-lifes and genre scenes in rich detail.

Trophime Bigot's Judith Cutting off the Head of Holofernes illustrates many of these concepts.  The artist heightened the drama by contrasting Judith's serene determination with the amazement and horror exploding from the general's face. Portraying his head upside down emphasizes Holofernes' defeat and evokes the reversal of societal norms in a woman's victory over a strong man.  Bigot, also known as the Master of the Candlelight,  worked in Rome, where he studied the paintings of Caravaggio.


Another treatment of the same subject contrasts with the Caravagesque and illustrates Baroques classicism.  Practitioners of this style of painting emphasized grace and sophistication, and fascination with color, swirling draperies, and dynamic compositions.  The contrast between Holofernes's crude features and the heroine's beauty underlines the moral message of the eventual triumph of virtue over evil. The Bolognese painter Elisabetta Sirani based her style on that of Guido Reni (1575-1642), who was admired for his idealized depictions of women, as in his Penitent Magdalene.

The penitent Magdalene was a common subject in the Baroque Italy.  In this version, her cross and the skull make it clear she is meditating on the brevity of life and the salvation made possible by Christ's death. Reni created an idealized Magdalene in a classical style influenced by ancient sculpture and by Raphael. These influences are visible in the Magdalene's rounded, even features, painted so smoothly that the strokes seem to disappear, in contrast with the broad, energetic strokes used for the drapery, more typical of 17th-century painting.


Domenico Fetti was influenced by the Venetian Renaissance artist Titian, although the catalogue indicates that in Christ and the Tribute Money, Fetti is "seeing Titian through the eyes of Rubens."  The heavy drapery folds and looser brushwork are characteristic of 17th-century style.


A combination of landscape and still life, Flowers by a Pond with Frogs points to a familiarity with the still-life style of the young Caravaggio.  The flowers are cultivated tulips, which were the subject of an earlier frenzy and were still, in the 1670s, not flowers for casual planting.



In the early 17th century, a new kind of genre painting was developed in Rome and soon spread throughout Italy and Europe. Canvases were filled with representations of the nobleman's conception of the "lower social orders" often  engaged in drinking, playing music and gambling.  This style of painting was also derived form the works of Caravaggio.  Allegory of the Five Senses is a prime example of this style, executed by Pietro Paolini.  Paolini pays tribute to Caravaggio with "quotations" from other works.   Each of the figures represents one of the five senses, with the couple fighting in the background (not really visible in this reproduction) representing the sense of touch.



Here's a genre character from a French artist.  The beggar looking through a hole in his hat may represent a spy or other shady character; the painting may have been intended for a temporary use.  Given the secretive character of the man depicted, peering at us through a hole in his hat, the painting may have had a particular appeal for its previous owner, the American publisher, diplomat, and arts administrator Michael Straight (1931-2004), who was a spy for some years in the employ of the former Soviet Union before renouncing his past.

 

Joaneath finished the paintings galleries with a foray into the 18th century to discuss these late Baroque works.  The dynamic and dramatic compositions of the 17th century were imbued with a new lightness and grace.  In France, a new style emerged, the Rococo, which favored lighter colors and organic assymetrical ornament.  This style was assimilated in Italy, especially in Venice, and especially by Giambattista Tiepolo.  Later in the century, painters turned to neoclassicism, with subjects from ancient history used to convey moral virtues.  To educated Europeans, Greek and Roman antiquity represented the origins of Western ciilization.  The so-called "Grand Tour" became de rigueur for the education of a gentleman, and created a new market and audience for Italian painting.

In the 18th century, Giovanni Panini was one of the most avidly collected artists in Europe.  A specialist of vedute (literally, view paintings), he brought lively brushwork and anecdotal detail to his depictions of famous historical sites of Rome.  This pair is typical of his work in this genre.



Tiepolo executed monumental wall and ceiling paintings for the palaces of Venice's patrician class.  Veronese clearly influenced Tiepolo throughout his career.  Here the young Roman general Scipio Africanus is shown freeing a captive of royal blood, an incident which supposedly took place in about 209 BC.  The Roman architecture and costumes and the standard borne by the soldier in front of Scipio show that Scipio represents the ancient Roman state.  


Also on the list are the presepio, or crèche figures, usually from Naples.  The original presepi were crafted on a mannequin made of wire, with terra-cotta head, arms and legs, and richly dressed in silk clothes embroided with gold. During the 18th century, the presepi became an elaborate, dramatic scenes, full of minor characters with their own conventions, and the art form reached its peak. Some of the best artists and craftsmen of their time: sculptors, goldsmiths and tailors created nativity sets staged in complex settings and turned them into first multimedia art.  Wealthy aristocrats used these figures as Christmas decorations. 


I love Christmas decorations, so this is a good place for me to exit the 18th century.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Renaissance Part I

We met on September 25 with Dr. Joaneath S again, this time to cover the Italian Renaissance.

We started in front of this large suspended cross, which despite the title of today's lecture Joaneath called "a great piece of medieval art." [As an aside, she noted that the curator who installed this piece in its present location is now the head of medieval art at the Metropolitan Museum in New York.]  It hangs in the "entry,"if you will, to the early Renaissance because it provides a nice step to later Italian work.  In a relatively short period of time in the 12 and 13th centuries, there was a major shift from art in the service of the church to art as an exploration of the ethical issues of daily life.


Imagine an Italian church in the 13th century, with small windows, a dark interior - this cross probably hung above the main altar, catching the available light in its gold trim.  The image of the suffering Christ, developed in the 13th century to elicit sympathy and inspire devotion, is flanked by busts of the mourning Virgin and the Apostle John.  The gold background to evoke the ethereal has disappeared as background, to reappear in the framing; the greenish tint of the dead body is a naturalistic detail not consistent with the art of the Middle Ages.  The unknown artist of this work depicted the elegance and emotive qualities of the crucified Christ in a manner clearly influenced by the Florentine painter Cimabue (ca. 1240-ca. 1302), recognized as one of the great Italian masters of the 13th century. 

Cimabue, Crucifix, Basilica of S. Croce, Florence
Cimabue was one of the first to break from the Italo-Byzantine style so popular in Italy in the 13th Century.  Italian art of the 1200's was heavily influenced by the Byzantine artists who appeared around this time in Italian courts.  In 1204, with the fall of Constantinople to the Turks, Byzantine artists began to migrate to Italy.  For a time, Italian art was of the Italo-Byzantine style, also called maniera greca.  Art of this time is characterized by frontal poses, prominent halos, and a lack of modeling.  It was also common to paint small active scenes along the edges of the main painting.   

This triptych is an example of some of these concepts.  Folding triptychs like this were used for private devotion, but the shape mimics the structure of a church. The small portable painting with the glorious gold frame is reminiscent of a reliquary.  The enthroned Madonna and Child are flanked by (left to right) Sts. Nicholas, Bartholomew, Catherine of Alexandria, Anthony Abbot, Francis, and Lucy. This composition uses the metaphor of a queen surrounded by her courtiers to depict the Virgin in her role as the Queen of Heaven. Several active scenes are painted above the main pieces.  The painter simulated the gold embroidered cloth of the Virgin's throne by scratching away the white paint to reveal the underlying gold leaf, which has been pricked to enhance its reflectivity.  


Small devotional pieces existed, but the altarpiece emerged in the 13th and 14th centuries as the pre-eminent form of panel painting.  This Sienese altarpiece uses realistic details, but the overall composition reflects the maniera greca.  The artist, Giovanni di Paolo,  used gold backgrounds to evoke the splendor of heaven; solid 3-dimensional forms responded to new ideas from artists like Cimabue and his pupil, Giotto.


Italian artists in the late middle ages developed the small scenes on the edges of the work into a predella, usually a story sequence that tells more about the main action in the larger piece.  As time progressed, artists and patrons had an increasing desire to have more story, which is consistent with the rising interest in the opinions and ideas of the viewer.  More story helps the viewer to relate the art to his own experience.  

There is also a slow movement toward realism and naturalistic details.  The Walters has a set of paintings from the predella of a large altarpiece, depicting scenes from the life of Christ.  While the graceful Entombment is characteristic of the Sienese school, the naturalistic shadow cast by the figure of Nicodemus who stoops to receive the body of Christ is extraordinary and possibly the earliest representation of a shadow in Italian Renaissance art. 


Joaneath next discussed these two altarpieces below.  The first is clearly influenced by Byzantine art.  Lines are scratched into the paint [see Mary's mantel], a common technique in Byzantine art.  The frame and panel are carved from one piece of wood.  The figures are solid and heavy like those used by Giotto and his followers; the frames interrupt the figures, suggesting that the figures exist in space.


This next exquisitely painted altarpiece shows the moment when the archangel Gabriel tells the Virgin Mary that she will give birth to the Son of God. The dialogue between them is inscribed in their haloes. In the spandrel above, David, one of the ancestors of Christ, is painted in his role as the Old Testament prophet. The little garden behind Gabriel is a hortus conclusus (enclosed garden), symbolic of Mary's virginity. The three predella panels below this scene depict the birth of the Virgin, her presentation in the Temple, and her death.   In the main picture, the artist used overlapping items and open architectural structures to suggest space, but he does not conform to a single, unified perspective.  


The art market began to change at this time as well.  The city was emerging as a powerful political and artistic center, and the construction of public buildings like cathedrals, churches and town halls led to opportunities for major commissions for art.  While the biggest market for paintings was still for religious paintings, patrons were also buying art for private devotions.  In the 14th century, the Black Death reminded patrons of their mortality and stimulated religious bequests and commissions for devotional images.  

Art for public religious spaces continued to conform to past practices, or at least changed more slowly.  Artists began to experiment a bit more "around the edges" with paintings used for private devotions.  In this Fra Filippo Lippi Madonna, the child Christ is depicted as fully "man" and as a natural baby - he has genitalia, and he needs lunch.  Mary balances him, and shows how she will care for him, and thus how she will care for the viewer.  The frame [which you cannot see in this image] is also interesting - it is in a window format, in a very Classical style.  The frame interrupts the Virgin's halo, again suggesting that she exists in space.  The cloth of honor is still behind her, so this is a conservative image, but introduces modern innovations.   


Non-religious art was also thriving at this time, and artists painting for the domestic market could take more risks.  We looked at Triumph of Chastity, which was painted for the panel of a marriage chest, or cassone.  Such panels usually depicted something from classical mythology, often with women as the heroic figures.  


Paintings for the home were often installed into the paneling in a wall, at shoulder height or slightly higher, as if ethical lessons could be learned by looking out a "window."  In the panel below, the myth of Io is presented as an ethical lesson on the value of chastity.  The landscape provides a context that responds to the viewers' experience.  


We spent a long time discussing The Ideal City (below).  Joaneath has published a paper on it which can be found here.  The most striking thing about the painting is the perspective. One reason to paint a city is to show the perspective, because you need a "built environment" to do so.  This painting is organized using math and straight lines to approximate real space.  No matter where the viewer stands, the perspective seems to line up with her.  Still, one cannot seem to walk into it; it's more as if one was looking at it through a window.  

There are many visual clues in the painting to explain other reasons for its existence.  In the background, the coliseum, the triumphal arch, the octagonal building which evokes the Roman temple of Mars, all classical references; in the foreground, buildings which correspond to 15th century palaces, residences, even businesses.  In the square are four columns with statues on top representing the four princely virtues.  This painting was probably commissioned by the Duke of Urbino, who was very interested in architecture and very interested in what a good prince should provide.  Thus, the painting is an allegory of good government. Set into the woodwork at shoulder height or higher, The Ideal City would have seemed like a window onto another, better world.  


The Ideal City also illustrates the notion that architecture is now a subject for art.  And once perspective has been introduced, it becomes absorbed in art in many ways.  

Joaneath offered this triptych depicting three holy men as an example.  The coffered ceiling helps to define space, but the banner hanging from the front is behind the figure.  The architectural setting opens up to a serene landscape.  Joaneath called this a wonderful painting that no one looks at.  


Across the gallery from the triptych is a set of paintings and objects depicting St. Jerome.  Jerome was a very popular saint in the 15th century.  In one painting we are looking into his study as he translates the Bible into Latin.   In the second we see him in the wilderness.  

In each the symbols that identify him as St. Jerome are present.  There is also this sculpture in bronze relief; it is harder to tell the story in bronze, but the viewer can fill in the details if the viewer knows the story.  Presumably in the 15th century the Italian viewer would have known of St. Jerome.  

It was very common in the Renaissance to use symbols to identify saints for the viewer.  In this monumental altarpiece, Madona and Child Enthroned with Saints, one can identify St. Michael by his dragon, St. Catherine by her spiked wheel, St. Jerome with his lion, and St. John the Baptist by his ragged clothing and his finger pointing to the Christ child.  Notice the classical architecture. 


Joaneath pointed out that at this time, Northern and Southern artists were working separately.  Northern artists did not have ancient Roman ruins on site.  In Italy, however, such ruins were available for the painter to study.  The architecture supports the figures, and Mary is placed at the center of a temple-like building that opens up to a beautiful landscape.  The artist is using perspective and commanding the space.  

Symmetry and stability were hallmarks of the art of the Renaissance by the time this altarpiece was painted in 1506.  Other artists, like the Venetian painter Bellini, were using similar compositions.  In Bellini's painting, the donors are ushered into the presence of the Virgin by their patron saints Peter, with his keys, and Mark, one of the patron saints of Venice.  


Raphael also used a stable, pyramidal form for this lovely Madonna.  Note the serene face and unfurrowed brow of the Madonna, and the mischievous elf of a child.   Quite a difference from the stiff mothers and children of the maniera greca.


We spent more time discussing this painting by Giulio Romano, which Joaneath described as a truly great painting.  Romano was a student of Raphael and was also an architect.  Although he initially followed the style of his famous master, he made his figures even more sculptural and gracefully elongated. The figures are twisting in opposite directions, something new in art, and to depict such twisting figures required a profound understanding of the physical world.  The composition moves away from a stable pyramid, and the architecture in the background is actually destabilizing.  The faces are superb, the halos very delicate, the light sublime.   


This painting was in the beginning of Mannerism. Mannerist paintings tended to be unbalanced, illogical, anti-classical, and anti-symmetrical.  Artists by the late Renaissance thought that Raphael had reached the peak of artistic achievement, so began to veer off in different directions for effect.  

In the later years of the Renaissance, there was much more emphasis on human qualities even in religious arts.  As in the North, there was an emerging interest in portraiture, first by memorializing donors and by 1500 painting anyone who was worthy of being memorialized.  The Walters has this stunning example by Veronese of the Countess Livia and her daughter.  [The companion portrait of her husband and son is in the Uffizi.]


Although children were not often seen in portraits, perhaps due to the early mortality of so many children, here the child is present and allowed to be a child.  Veronese was famous for his use of color and mastered the rendering of luxurious textures and fabrics, including the marten's fur. The marten head of gold and enamel is nearly identical to one in the Walters' collection (57.1982), which is displayed directly below. Martens were common motifs in portraits of virtuous women, due to a belief that the marten conceived its young by the ear.  Thus the marten was a symbol of virtue and chastity.  Marten fur was thought to protect women in childbirth, and in 1552 the countess was pregnant with her daughter Emilia.

We ended our first day in the Renaissance by looking at the Walters' copy of the Mona Lisa.  Many copies were made after Leonardo brought the painting to France, and many, like this one, added columns on the sides.  Although this is not a particularly exceptional copy, it can be used to discuss many of the techniques used by Leonardo - and students are still glad to see it.  

Post-script - April 2016

The Walters has had the most wonderful special exhibition this spring:  Carlo Crivelli, A Renaissance Original.   Carlo Crivelli was a painter in the 15th Century who trained in Padua, worked in The Marches, and often signed himself "of Venice."  Thus he aligned more closely with the Eastern Coast of Italy and took inspiration from Venetian and Byzantine traditions.  One speaker noted that he was too idiosyncratic to be merely Venetian, however.  I wanted to record some notes about him and the exhibition for the record.  

Venice was a very powerful republic in the Renaissance.  When Constantinople fell to Islam in 1453, Byzantine artists moved to Venice.  Crivelli had an intense interest in mixing cultures, and was aware of Eastern cultures and Ottoman taste for luxury.  Still, his work relies on a lot of late Gothic traditions as well.  He was described as a hybrid:  Renaissance vs. Late Gothic, Venetian vs. Florentine.  Monastic vs. aristocratic.  Byzantine emotion vs. Venetian Elegance.  Sacred vs. profane. 

Crivelli's works sometimes include a "portrait" of the donor in tiny scale next to the religious figure that is the subject of the painting.  [The Walters Madonna includes the donor's initials as well.]  Our speaker noted that portraiture was not part of the Eastern painting tradition, evolving in Florence and Rome from the ancient Roman tradition of portraiture.  The fact that the donor is tiny also indicates the scale of his importance.  Also, the commissioning of works of art in Florence and Rome was considered a "good work" earning the donor some credit toward heaven; the Eastern church thought that such thinking took the Church in the wrong direction, toward money instead of toward faith.  Nevertheless, Crivelli sometimes included the small portraits of the donor, and/or inscribed the donor's name along with Crivelli's own.  

Crivelli's signatures often consisted of visual inventions or illusions.  He would paint a note tacked to a surface, or make it look like his name appeared in the wood grain or carved in stone.  His inscription next to a burned candle seems to say, "I am dead but my work lives on."

Crivelli did not paint portraits, specializing in religious paintings, but he was very interested in the human face.  Our speaker noted that in a picture of St. Peter, there is nothing idealized about the face:  it would be stressful, after all, to be the Rock of the Church.  Look at the angels in Crivelli's Man of Sorrows, or the angel in his Annunciation (part of a larger altarpiece).  

In some paintings, the lines of Crivelli's drawings show through.  He drew with precision and confidence.  One contemporary writer said about the St. George, "in line it is drawn as if by lightning."

Crivelli often painted with tempura on wood panel, but later in his work he began to use oil and sometimes to mix oil and tempura.  Da Massina is credited with the introduction of oil paint to Venice, but by 1490 Crivelli was using oil, still on panel.  

Crivelli had a preoccupation with the use of gold, probably derived from the Byzantine tradition.  But he also loved line and detail.  His drawings can often be seen through the paint.  Check out the Annunciation - note the details in the angel's flowing drapery, and those in the scene around the figures.  Also note the ray of light coming from the dove of the Holy Spirit, it appears, into Mary's ear.   The theological answer:  the saving word of God enters through the ear.  

In many of his paintings Crivelli uses pastiglia to give depth and highlight details.  This is beautifully evident on his St. George and the Dragon, where the three-dimensional details on George's armor are raised and highlighted in gold and red.  

Finally, Crivelli used a lot of fruit garlands in his work.  This can also be seen in the paintings of his teacher, Squarcione.  Crivelli added a little twist of his own:  cucumbers.  Also note small details on the ledges of some of the paintings - fruit (often a cherry), a fly, a crack in the marble, all symbols of transience and humility.  

In addition to the Walters' Crivelli, there is a Madonna at the Metropolitan Museum in New York [note her three-dimensional halo, the bird, the crack in the stone, the fly on the wall, all symbols of mortality] and one at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. [note the shell over her head, indicating that she is a pearl, the fruits, and the monster armrests on her throne, protecting her].