Thou Art History

Jacques-Louis David Paints the Republic

2009-05-27T21:57:00.000-07:00

Jacques-Louis David was a French painter, referred to often as the father of the art movement, Neoclassicism. As its name suggests, Neoclassicism was a movement where artists and intellectuals gained a new interest (or renewed interest) in classical antiquity. David was undoubtedly the most famous of these painters. As much an intellectual as a painter, David was a member of the Jacobin Club, and was very involved in politics. He voted for the execution of Louis XVI. It has been suggested by some scholars that his passion for classicism is what made him embrace the French Revolution, especially a new republican government. I think that classicism appealed to David because of his political beliefs, much like other figures at the time, such as David’s close friend, Jean-Jacques Rousseau. So his political beliefs gave birth to this love for classicism that, I think, sparked in him a fervor that fueled an ability to communicate his political beliefs in a way that was visual, monumental, beautiful, and relatively subtle. There are three incredible paintings by David that capture me every time I see them. Oath of the Horatii (1784,) The Death of Socrates (1787,) and The Lictors Bringing to Brutus the Bodies of His Sons (1789.)

All three paintings employ ancient Greek and Roman subject matter. Each painting shows us a virtue of the ancient Republic, in this case the importance of state over anything, even something as fundamental as family. In referring to classical antiquity, it’s important to realize that David was glorifying paganism, and so visually communicating his political belief, specifically his will to limit the power of the Catholic Church. All three paintings include accurate depictions of ancient Greek and Roman artifacts, this is what makes these three paintings come alive to viewers. The paintings, down to details like stools and cups, show you an accurate depiction of ancient life. They have a picturesque quality, which can be attributed to the paintings’ almost glossy smoothness and complete absence of brushstrokes. The year before David was born, the ancient sites of Pompeii and Herculaneum were excavated for the first time. Imagine how much they were starting to uncover about ancient Rome and ancient Greece (keeping in mind the amount of Greek iconography that appeared in Roman art.) In 1775, after winning the Prix de Rome, David went to study art in Rome and as a result, came in direct contact with the artifacts and architecture of antiquity.

Oath of the Horatii was painted five years before the French Revolution, when many people were enticed by the thought of a new republic. On the left in the foreground of the painting, there are three brothers of the ancient Roman Horatii family. They are taking an oath to defend Rome to the death. Their father also partakes in this oath. On the right, there are two women seated whose sorrow seems so endless that they can’t even seem to keep their heads up. One of these women is a member of the Horatti family, but engaged to one of the Curiatii. The other woman is married into the Horatii family, but is the sister of the Curiatii. What David is showing, through the imagery of the three brothers, is one of the most primary virtues of the ancient republic—their loyalty to the state above all else. This virtue was relevant at the time of the French Revolution as well. By showing this idea of state before family, David was promoting a new nationalism amongst the people. He was reminding them never to abandon the state, and in doing so was simultaneously condemning the ways of the royal family, whose lavish personal spending ultimately placed the nation in incredible debt.

Two years before the French Revolution, David paints, The Death of Socrates. I believe this was an even bolder statement than Oath of the Horatii. Socrates was accused by the Athenian government of corrupting the youths with his teachings and defying the gods, and therefore was given the choice to either renounce his beliefs, or die by drinking poison hemlock. David’s The Death of Socrates depicts Socrates sitting upright in his prison cell speaking with his arm in the air. His elbow is locked in such a way that David is able to create these striking perpendicular lines with his arm. The painting captures the moment where Socrates is about to reach for the cup of poison hemlock. But Socrates is almost too preoccupied by his thoughts and speech to even touch the cup—he misses as he reaches for it. Socrates is shown speaking about the immortality of the human soul among his disciples. Like an ancient Roman frieze, the figures in the painting are all lined up perfectly. Also, each figure has their own individual expression. Crito sits at the edge of the bed with his hand on Socrates’ knee listening intently, Plato is seated at the foot of the bed with his head down in this sort of introspective moment of meditation, Apollodorus is the figure to the far right who throws up his hands in grief and disbelief that Socrates has chosen this fate. (By the way, this painting was roughly based on Plato’s Phaedo.)

In the background on the left you see Socrates’ wife waving goodbye to him. She seems to be waving goodbye to no one as he is too invested in his beliefs to even acknowledge her. So David has presented a new cult of civic virtues in this painting, namely, stoic austerity, and self-sacrifice for one’s beliefs. What I love about this painting is it shows the extent of David’s knowledge of classical antiquity. He is not only able to render artifacts precisely as they appeared in antiquity, but he was also able to put himself in the mind of a classical artist and paint like the ancient Greeks sculpted. Each figure seems to be three dimensional in the sense that you feel you are seeing them in the round. David also presents a very idealized image of Socrates. Socrates is supposed to be seventy years old in this picture, but his body is much younger. This was precisely the way Greek sculptors depicted their men. They did this because to them (the Greeks,) a toned and well-proportioned body was an outward manifestation of a striving for heroic excellence. This painting will blow you away (it’s at the Met.) David captures even the slightest of details, like the imprint of a shackle on Socrates’ leg, or the veins in the feet and arms.

At the onset of the French Revolution, David paints The Lictors Bring to Brutus the Bodies of His Sons. The Roman consul, Brutus, known as the founder of the republic, discovered that his sons were involved in a scheme to restore the monarchy. He condemns his sons to death without hesitation. David shows us the moment when the dead bodies of Brutus’ sons are being carried into his home. While the rest of his family is in complete dismay, Brutus sits alone in the shadows of the left foreground. He is poorly lit and seems to not be as commanding as the figure of Socrates and the Horatii brothers. What David is communicating to us is how deeply rooted his political beliefs are. He is showing us the extent of his belief in his state. David tells that if necessary, he would commit any act unwaveringly, even if it promised to result in a crushing moral dilemma. Some scholars say David was painting propaganda for the republic. What do you think?

The Four Styles of Roman Wall Paintings

2009-04-02T07:09:00.001-07:00

In 79 A.D. the volcanic eruption of Mt. Vesuvius occurred and destroyed the region around the bay of Naples in Italy. Most people escaped, and luckily the ancient Roman villas that were affected by Mt. Vesuvius were preserved due to layers of volcanic ash and lava that covered them. In the 19^th century, the German scholar, August Mau, assigned four chronological styles to characterize the preserved Roman wall paintings found in these villas. These styles, however, are problematic for several reasons, which I will discuss at the end of this post. It’s important to mention that Roman wall painters employed the fresco technique, which means that paint was applied to wet plaster (which covered the concrete walls) so that when it dries it becomes almost a part of the wall.

In the first style (also called the “Masonry Style” and the “Incrustation Style”) of Roman wall painting, the walls are painted to seem as though they are covered with colorful stones, especially marble slabs and masonry blocks. Such stones were typically seen in more upper class homes. Thus, this style means to project the wealth of the villa owner. The first style accentuates the flatness of the wall with panels that imitate imported, and therefore expensive, stone. This emphasis on flatness changes drastically in the second style. The example image that I show is from the Samnite Villa from Herculaneum. This wonderfully preserved wall painting shows the different colored blocks.

The second style (also called the “Illusionistic Style” and the “Architectural Style”) replaces the reproduction of stone blocks with landscape scenes. Wall paintings of the second style creates the illusion of a three dimensional space from what is actually a two dimensional space. The style opens the wall by portraying windows and porticos (which are essentially roofs supported by columns, almost like a porch) which guide the viewer’s eye towards imaginary scenes that were usually framed by painted columns and other architectural elements. So the space transcends the room using several perspective devices. Idyllic landscape paintings of the second style usually have sacred buildings and figures. Some scenes also feature events that stem from Hellenistic myth and theater. For example, the painting on the cubiculum (or bedroom) walls of the villa of Publius Fannius Synistor (now in the Met Museum) from Boscoreale contains Greek theater masks. The cubiculum walls have these architectural elements (columns and porticos) which frame architectural vistas. There is also an enormous villa painted on the walls, creating the impression that the viewer is in an expensive and elaborate villa and looking out to another through this wall painting. In this sense, this wall painting also functions to show the wealth of the villa owner, P.F. Synistor. However, the wall paintings also show the sophistication of the villa owner because of the references to ancient Greece. The Romans considered Greece a model society and so they had as many references to Hellenistic Greece in their villas (which is something they could not do in the more conservative Roman houses in the city.) The painting and sculpture that was modeled after Greek stylistic elements and traditions would afford the owner with the opportunity to speak about Greece and show his knowledge, therefore communicating his sophistication.

The third style (also called the “Ornate Style” and the “Ornamental Style”) limits pictorial illusion in order to create framed images where the framing is actually painted on. The overall appearance is flat in contrast to the three dimensional space created in the second style. The third style closes up the walls making a sort of picture gallery effect. The third style also abandons the second style’s realistic architectural elements and open vistas. The architecture that is shown in the paintings of the third style is now slender, fine, and unrealistic. In some third style paintings, elongated candelebrae (or decorative candlesticks that look like columns) replaces the second style’s painted columns. The image that I show here is a wall painting from the tablinum (which is a room typically across from the entrance and beside the atrium) of the villa of Marcus Lucretius Fronto from Pompeii. Notice in the painting the very thin and unrealistic columns that frame the central image. These columns also can be seen in the upper portion of the painting.

The fourth style incorporates elements from earlier styles. The architecture in fourth style wall paintings is more realistic and the wall has a tendency to open up like the second style although not as much. Deriving from the third style, fourth style paintings have an almost portable quality about them. They frequently have aediculae (or a small Roman shrine) and tapestries painted using the art technique of tromp-l’oeil, which means that a three dimensional space is imitated. But something that is only seen in the fourth style is the imitation of stage backgrounds. My example image is from the triclinium (or dining room) of the House of the Vettii in Pompeii. Notice how the staged mythological scenes are painted in such a way that makes it seem like a picture gallery. Also, notice the architectural structure to the left and right of the central images on the two walls that are shown. These structures are realistic and frame a view into a space that extends beyond the wall, much like the second style.

I did not mention in my description of each style that August Mau (the German scholar, remember him?) also assigned dates to each of these styles. This is really tricky because in actuality all we really know is that all of the remaining wall paintings were done before 79 A.D. Also, although I showed examples that fit the description of each style to make it clear, there are so many paintings that have elements from each style that cannot really be placed in any one time period. However, what August Mau did was make it a lot easier for people to discuss and categorize wall paintings. Although the dates are pretty much bunk, some wall paintings (like those shown) do follow many of the criteria for Mau’s styles.

Eshu-Elegba

2009-03-21T17:45:00.000-07:00

Eshu-Elegba is, to me, one of the most fascinating gods in Yoruba culture. He is depicted usually as a ritual sculpture and he confirms that if any meaning is to be arrived at, one must abandon any search for a straightforward answer as to the symbolic meaning of Yoruba ritual sculpture. Ritual sculpture made for the cult of Eshu-Elegba has iconographic features that can be interpreted by means of ritual of the cult, myth, and praise songs.

Eshu-Elegba is the god of mischief. He is the Yoruba “trickster” who is recognized by all Yoruba (regardless of their association with other cults.) He is blamed for all the troubles of man, and serves as a sort of mediator between the people and the gods. On the one hand, he tricks men into upsetting the gods (or orisha,) and then in turn aids the gods in their vengeance. So he provides sacrifices for the gods. It is said that without Elegba, the orisha would not have any food. Thus, Elegba is responsible for all conflict between people and gods. When men are fighting, Elegba is said to be present; when a man has committed a wrongdoing it is assumed that he was tempted by Elegba. Praise names describe him as, “the one who turns right into wrong and makes the innocent guilty.” What may be confusing to some is that Eshu is not exclusively an evil god (as no Yoruba god is completely good or bad.) Every Yoruba knows that Eshu gave them Ifa, or the divination system. Eshu worshippers say that he gives them children and protects them. Members of some cults see Eshu as a friend. Eshu is described as a nomadic figure. He occupies luminal spaces, like crossroads and thresholds of houses. He is also present when there is change or evolution.

The features of an Elegba ritual statue distinguishes it. The most prominent feature on an Eshu-Elegba is the long downward-curved hair-dress, sometimes it is even carved as a phallus. The statue is typically adorned with long strands of cowrie shells. Just above the forehead is a tiny calabash. Sometimes Eshu holds a bag, which contains fragments of utensils, and broken calash. The figures are worn over the shoulder of the male Elegba worshipper, or a pair over each shoulder. When they are not being worn, it is set up in the worshipper’s shrine. Women worshippers of Elegba wear a different insignia. They wear a pair of male and female figures with a more subdued curve head-dress. They usually hold two long calabashes. Like the male worshippers, when the figures are not being worn they are kept in a shrine. There are also altar figures. These are not worn. Instead, they decorate a shrine. These figures also have the distinguishing feature of those that are worn. A pillar or mound of mud (between 1 and 4 feet high) can be found in a town’s central Elegba shrine, and in the foot of doorways (although these are much smaller.) Daily offerings of palm oil are poured over the pillar.

Food in Renaissance Painting

2009-03-19T23:49:00.000-07:00

Food was seen as a gift from God, so it’s not surprising that it was full of subliminal meaning in art. What I love about painting is that every mark is intentional; everything has the potential to have meaning. In the paintings that I show, I have circled the food in each painting and below I discuss their meaning.

The apple is known as the “fruit of good and evil.” But the bible is not clear whether the infamous fruit that “corrupted” Adam and Eve was an apple or not. Some suggest a fig. This is probably because Adam and Eve dressed themselves in fig leaves, so they would have been readily available.

The quince can symbolize fertility and marriage.

At the Last Supper, Jesus gave wine to the apostles (“This is my blood…”) Because wine is made of grapes, they represent Jesus suffering on the cross.

The rounded shape of a pear refers to Mary’s fecundity, and so it stands for the incarnation.

Greek myth gives the pomegranate its Christian symbolism. In Greek myth, Persephone was taken to the Underworld by Hades. She could return to life if she had not eaten while she was there. However, she ate pomegranate seeds while in the Underworld and as a result she had to spend one third of every year in the Underworld. The pomegranate came to refer to Christ’s death and resurrection. Some say that because it holds many seeds, it’s a symbol of the Church, which holds many souls.

The gourd can be seen as a symbol of Christ’s resurrection. In the story of Jonah (who was swallowed by a whale for three days before being regurgitated on dry land,) he sits under a gourd tree after God has forgiven the people of Nineveh. So perhaps it also represents forgiveness.

The orange is another “forbidden fruit.” But in paintings such as Botticelli’s Primavera, and Domenico Veneziano’s St. Lucy Altarpiece, the orange is meant to allude to the Medici family, a very wealthy and powerful Florentine family from the 14th to 18th century. As well as resembling the golden balls on the Medici coat of arms, the orange was at times known as the “malus medicus” or “medicinal apple,” which created this sort of pun on the family name.

Japonisme

2009-03-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

In the 1850s and 60s, a trend known as “Japonisme” emerges in Western Europe, particularly France. In the mid-1800s, the Japanese began to trade with the west again. So, as a result there were many Japanese imports that were sent to Europe. The term is French, and it describes the period in which Japanese art (especially woodcut prints) influenced western art (from the 19th century.) In 1862, a shop opens in Paris called “The Chinese Gate.” The shop sold Japanese prints made from woodblocks, which appealed greatly to 19th century artists. The best Japanese prints could be found in Paris. In the late 1800s, there were many French artists and collectors that went to Japan. Articles were featured in French magazines and newspapers concerning Japanese art techniques, and prints from the Edo era. In the 1860s to the 1880s, there was a frenzy to collect and imitate these prints. There were so many artists influenced by Japanese prints, like, van Gogh, Mary Cassatt, Gauguin, Whistler, Degas, Monet, Gustav Klimpt, and even the architect Frank Lloyd Wright. There was a tremendous admiration for aspects of Japanese art (the “other.”) Some painters included Japanese prints in the background of their painted scene (almost to pay homage.) Some examples are Manet’s, Portrait of Emile Zola. In this painting, instead of having things fade into a distance, or background, Manet shows clearly a large Japanese print. With size and detail, a different type of space (than the sitter’s surroundings) is implied. Van Gogh copies Japanese prints, which is perhaps most famously done in his Flowering Plum Tree (1887) which is after Hiroshige’s Plum Estate Kameido (1857.) Van Gogh also copied Hiroshige’s Evening Shower at Atake and the Great Bridge (1856,) in his, Bridge in the Rain (1887.)

What artists admire about Japanese prints is their foreignness, uniqueness that comes from specific elements employed by Japanese painters. One of these elements is the lack of distinction of shading in Japanese prints. Artists, like Manet, who were influenced by Japanese prints, began to break down distinctions between depth. In traditional European painting, the distinctions between depth are distinct, so much so that it appears three-dimensional at times. Another element is Japanese artists’ disregard for symmetry, something that had defined a lot of western European art. Japanese techniques were so different from the Greco-Roman art that has been a primary influence on western art for centuries. The Japanese artists emphasize flatness. I think that the most interesting element that influenced western European painters was the adaptation of the mentality of the Japanese painter, putting an emphasis on nature, and recording nature in an almost picturesque fashion, stressing the verticality of their painting, and painting from aerial perspective are some examples.

One Japanese Print I love is by Hiroshige and it’s called, Eagle Flying over the Fukagama District, from his One Hundred Views of Edo series (1856 - 1858.) I drove to Yale just to see this one in person and it’s unbelievable. There’s this scene of winter, captured with these bright whites and blues. There are snow-topped mountains in the background. Plants in the distance are shown as these dots, but with incredible detail for their size. The flatness is emphasized by the lake, which is frozen on the top. Hiroshige shows the different levels of the water by darkening each level’s blue hue. But the most amazing part is that there’s this eagle that just appears in the frame as the closest thing to the viewer. You get a sense that the painter is elevated in the air, and therefore high enough to see an eagle this close. But the best part is the photographic quality to the print. It seems that Hiroshige was just painting this scene from above when an eagle swoops into his view and he paints it as if he has taken a snapshot of that exact moment. I think it’s so beautiful.

Art Quotes: Art and Nature

2009-03-19T21:02:00.000-07:00

Since I am going to discuss Japanese prints next, I thought it might be cool (and relevant) to post some quotes about art and nature.

Van Gogh said, "It is not the language of painters but the language of nature which one should listen to, the feeling for the things themselves, for reality, is more important than the feeling for pictures."

Cezanne said, "When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art."

Courbet said, "The beautiful is in nature, and it is encountered under the most diverse forms of reality. Once it is found it belongs to art, or rather to the artist who discovers it."

Eakins said, "The big artist...keeps an eye on nature and steals her tools."

Seneca (4 B.C. – 65 A.D.) said, "All art is but imitation of nature."
Rembrandt said, “Choose only one master.. Nature.”

Tadao Ando says, “When you look at Japanese traditional architecture, you have to look at Japanese culture and its relationship with nature. You can actually live in a harmonious, close contact with nature - this very unique to Japan.”

Determining the Authenticity of African Art

2009-03-11T15:53:00.000-07:00

The concept of authenticity is among the most problematic and most difficult issues in the study of African art. The meaning of authenticity in African art is directly tied to contrasting topics such as cultural or ethnic “purity,” placement in history, and the intentions behind the art itself. As you can imagine, there are so many takes on those topics mentioned above, and the inconsistency of those ideas contributes to the tricky notion of “authenticity.”

What is the definition of authenticity? Well, like I said there are contrasting opinions. These views relate to factors such as the condition of the artifact, the record of its use in African society, the target audience, uniqueness, and the object’s approximate age. Some of the stances on the requirements for authenticity are: (1) the meaning of the art must originate from a sacred truth of the culture from which it was produced (2) it must be constructed from customary materials by a native from the “primitive” culture from which it was produced (3) it must be of use to the inhabitants of a specific tribe (4) it must be made without the ultimate goal of monetary gain.

Here’s my take on these standpoints. The idea that the significance of the art must be rooted in some sort of religious belief seems to be somewhat limiting. What about the secular works of art that don’t correspond to religion or “sacred truth[s],” but that mean to convey the wealth and status of its owner or its society? What about the African art that is meant to transmit the civilized nature of the society, such as body art and cicatrisation among the Nuba people, and the Igbo (which are merely some examples)? In respect to the second requirement mentioned above (that the work of art must be made from traditional materials by a member of the “primitive” society,) materials that were imported from other regions at the time the art was produced should not make the art inauthentic because it was still produced in its respective society. Such art as mosaics and works of art that employ the inlay technique using imported stone, are they not truly works of art from their countries?

Also, the very notion of primitivism (which I feel has to be addressed in this post,) is in itself so controversial and so problematic. The concept of primitivism (in my opinion) always refers to “the other,” unless the term is referring to an earlier time period. It is a concept that was born in the time of colonialism, which in itself is problematic. During that time, African art was seen by Europeans as something that invokes curiosity, but is not necessarily worthy of being considered real works of art. The concept of primitivism, inspired by this type of thought, makes the term irrelevant in our time because the very definition of primitivism demands a belief that African art should not be regarded as art. Other qualities that seem to determine the primitivism of a culture are small-scale (especially isolated) settlements, non-literacy amongst the people, lack of historical records (specifically literature,) low level of technical achievements, non-industrialization, and money-less economies. But, these are the standards of most western societies. We should use as qualitative criteria the principles of the African culture from which the art derives.

Arguably, all that we consider African art had a function within its society. One example is African masks that were not made purely for aesthetic value or to be hung on a wall, but to be danced in a ceremony. This seems accurate to me. The idea that the art should not be made for monetary gain I think applies more to the art not being created to be disposed of for gain to European or other alien cultures. What about the numerous painters from the western world who sold their work to make a living? Their work is certainly considered authentic. So for me it comes down to the fact that what we may use to measure the authenticity of African art is just not relevant, for the most part, to African cultures. This means a lot.

The arrival of fakes to me signifies the demise of culture. Signs of the art’s age are exhibited by visible effects of decay (like scratches, chipping, and corrosion as some examples.) But as the supply of highly coveted antiques diminishes, artists and forgers have been enticed to replicate these effects of age by economic motivation. So much of this has been done that the majority of the time we don’t know any history behind the artifacts. The history of the art is what determines the value of the art in the end. By forging a fake limited supply of African art, its value in the contemporary market skyrockets. It’s really sad how the art has been exploited in this sense.

Thus, the problem (in my opinion) is not really one of determining authenticity, but instead, one of determining value (specifically the price of the artifact,) which is something that unfortunately to most non-African societies means more than the art itself. It becomes a sort of trophy, an exotic addition to one’s art collection. African art penetrated the west with a degree of uncertainty. The rest of the world was genuinely unsure of its position in the hierarchy of the world of art goods. To westerners, it was at first undeserving of aesthetic appreciation or scientific study. It was only a wonder of the “other” world, the world that was considered primitive and therefore insignificant in the scheme of things (but intriguing nonetheless.) When African art shifted sometime in the early twentieth century to being “actual” art (although still implanted in the category primitive,) it owed its promotion to its being considered outside of its original context and symbolism. This pretty much contradicts some of the fundamental prerequisites (mentioned above) for African art to be considered authentic.

The extent to which objects are stripped of their meaning and manipulated to fit the agenda of the moment is one of the great tragedies of African art. If it comes from Africa it is authentic African art. How many of you believe this? I wonder. One can so effortlessly find holes in any particular argument concerning the authenticity of African art. This is the source of the controversy concerning this topic.

Art Quote

2009-03-10T19:21:00.000-07:00

"Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with it, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of marvels."

~ Francisco Goya (Spanish painter)

Man at Odds with Nature

2009-03-10T18:41:00.000-07:00

I want to discuss a theme that has I’ve noticed in a lot of art and I thought would be cool to post. The theme is man at odds with nature. There are a lot of paintings to choose from, but I’m going to discuss this theme by analyzing two 19th century paintings—one French and one American (from the United States.) The paintings are Eugene Delacroix’s Bark of Dante and Virgil in Hell from 1822, and Winslow Homer’s Gulf Stream from 1899.

Bark of Dante is from the movement of Romanticism, which is marked by a switch from Neo-classicism’s embracement of ancient Greece and Rome as ideal civilizations (think back to the Neo-classicist painter, Jacques-Louis David and his heavy classical influence.) Instead, the romantics placed emphasis on the medieval time. After the fall of Napoleon, France (which he united,) was in a state of disorder. The monarchy saw the opportunity to reinstate power. To make the monarchy favorable to the people, they traced their decent to the medieval time, and so the medieval topic was common among followers of kings. The romantic painters, like Delacroix, used science differently to further the cause of the Romantics, who were interested in emotion, etc.

Homer’s Gulf Stream, which takes place near Key West, Florida, was painted shortly after the Spanish-American War, which made the US a power in the West Indies. The US now had to settle its institutionalized racism with multiracial societies in Cuba and Puerto Rico. In the 1890s, the racial issue was vigorously discussed and debated by Americans. This was made more difficult by the influx of immigrants coming into the eastern seaboard. Like the era of Romanticism when science was used in a different way to further the cause of the Romantics, the philosophy of social Darwinism was typically used among the upper class in this era and was exploited by racists to give a scientific coating to their belief system.

These two paintings are similar in that they both allude to a storm. In Bark of Dante, it is stormy. This is reinforced by the sort of mucky colors of the painting, and the tumultuous sea. In Gulf Stream, the storm is indicated by the sky, again, the turbulent sea, and the waterspout that is in the background on the right (which is essentially a tornado that forms on the water.) In both paintings the brush strokes are visible, and I think this is to show the breakdown of color used in each. In Bark of Dante, a dark color palette is used (which is appropriate since Dante and Virgil are in hell.) The painting has splashes of red, which symbolizes danger and the agony of the tortured bodies in the sea. In Gulf Stream the color also evokes a state of emotion. The main colors used are the deep blues and greens of the sea. This emphasizes the vastness of the sea and how it obviously overpowers the man. Red is also employed in the water amongst the sharks to evoke a sense of danger. The red in the painting could be the blood of a former shipmate, or possibly red seaweed that emerges in the waters of the Gulf Stream during storms. Either way the color is obviously supposed to recall blood surrounding the sharks. Color is used in both paintings to capture the eye. In Gulf Stream, the red amongst the rich blues makes viewers focus on the sharks and what their meaning is in the painting.

The significance of nature in each painting is different. In Bark of Dante, nature signifies something personal to Delacroix. Bark of Dante focuses on the damned souls who go to hell and their emotional torment. Delacroix was greatly influenced by the French painter, Théodore Géricault, whose painting, Raft of Medusa (1819) really spoke to him. He loved the idea of humanity vs. nature, especially the power of nature. Unlike Gericault though, Delacroix’s painting is less “classicized” in the sense that viewers of the painting could clearly follow the figures (although not as much as say a David painting.) Delacroix shifts away from the focus being on the individual figures. Géricault had studied anatomy and rendered it with precision, while Delacroix is obviously more concerned with conveying this dismal mood and a sense of chaos and confusion. This is because he thought of the world as chaos, so the confusion of where the figures begin and end is intentional. He saw in the damned people some of his own feelings (I mean Delacroix.) Delacroix, who was somewhat aristocratic and well-traveled, thought of himself as being alone. He was the type that enjoyed living through his painting and so this painting really communicates his inner struggles.

Gulf Stream is different. I think it does communicate the point of view of Homer, but it isn’t about something that concerns himself solely. In Booker T. Washington’s Atlanta Compromise speech, he compares the position of blacks in the US to a shipwreck. Coincidently, the same place where Washington delivered this speech, Homer was exhibiting his works of art and so would have been aware of it. Another famous white American, whose name I can’t remember right now but he was a political figure from the south, compared sharks to whites, saying that they were powerful and smart and did not take kindly to dark skin. There were actually travel magazines that assured whites that they did not have to worry while on vacation in the tropics because sharks were more attracted to blacks. So here might be the grounds for Homer’s depiction of this black man shipwrecked, waiting for his end between ferocious shark and waterspout. (In order to make the painting less negative so he could sell it, Homer later added the ship in the background to give the impression that there was a chance this man could be saved. But this was not in the original painting.) Homer exposes several shark fins in the water to give the impression that there are more sharks than there are. There are really three, but we have to keep in mind that sharks have seven fins. So the protagonist is in big trouble here, but yet, he looks to one side and reclines on the boat (which is drifting aimlessly because of the broken rudder) looking so calm and careless (a far cry from Dante and Virgil.) This painting, which symbolizes the perennial dilemma of blacks in a racist world, shows the black man in a position that he is comfortable in—a position that to him is so familiar that he knows worrying will not help his current state. Homer has other paintings where he treats blacks very sympathetically, attempting to show their take on the US. This painting, unlike that of Delacroix, deals with something beyond the sphere of his own personal thoughts. He wants to expose US society, but he wants to do it subtly. He does not spell this out in a way that is clear for all viewers, so as not to be too controversial and still sell is paintings to make a living.

Bark of Dante takes place in surroundings which may or may not actually exist. This really shows the extent to which this painting comes from Delacroix’s imagination, and thus is something concocted by him and filled with his own thoughts and emotions. Gulf Stream goes beyond that realm of pure imagination, taking place in a real location in order to show that he is referring to something that is real in society by making it relatable.

I think both paintings can be compared to John Singleton Copley’s, Watson and the Shark, in its subject matter and technique. The presence of a black man and of sharks in Gulf Stream is what makes it relatable. The souls in the water in Bark of Dante mirror the body in the water in Copley’s painting (painted earlier in 1778) in their Michelangelo-esque presentation. (I don’t know why I mentioned that I just thought of it and found it interesting.)

FOR YOUR OWN ANALYSIS: Suicide of Ajax by Exekias (roughly 530 B.C.)

2009-03-10T18:31:00.000-07:00

This is a painting on a terracotta amphora, which is a type of vase or jug that was used in ancient Greece and Rome for storing food and wine. The adornment is in “black figure,” which means that it contains black figuration on a red background. It is painted by undoubtedly the most famous (and my favorite) black-figure artist and potter, Exekias. Exekias possessed the unique ability to convert black-figure style from a style that could not show a lot of detail to one that is rich in detail and transmits so much sentiment. Exekias actually invented this type of pottery (more specifically called the belly amphora.) That’s awesome. Look at the detail that Exekias demonstrates, it’s brilliant!! The etchings reveal the musculature of Ajax; look at the design on the shield and the feather in his helmet (all this in a style that ordinarily forbids such intricacy.) Exekias presents Ajax’s body in the style of an ideal Greek athlete or warrior, showing chiseled muscles, and small elegant feet. This is typical of this archaic artist’s representation of a Greek hero. On the top of the scene of Ajax preparing for his suicide, there is a geometric border design fused with floral ornamentation done in black-figure style like the scene itself. On the bottom of the amphora, there’s another geometric design consisting of triangular shapes that seem to point upwards towards the scene.

In the scene, which includes Ajax squatting with his right knee forward over a mound of earth in which he plants his sword; Exekias includes Ajax’s armor and a palm tree. Ajax being nude without his armor suggests his vulnerability and the downwardly contorted leaves of the tree add a glum feeling to the scene. Landscape was rare in attic vase painting, but Exekias manages to display the narrative function of it through his placement and depiction of the palm tree. Ajax’s armor is placed to the right of him—leaving the hero unprotected. The helmet seems to watch Ajax which can be Exekias’ attempt to recall Athenian’s previous inclination to be unprepared for battle and thus connect Trojan culture with that of the Athenians.

The idea of Ajax, the mythological Trojan hero who had occupied such a paramount role in Homer’s Trojan War series, sneaking into isolation to kill himself at dawn (which really makes the red background more salient because it actually looks like dawn) really releases such a sentiment that a viewer familiar with this scene would virtually be able to feel Ajax’s dishonor and humiliation. Usually, this scene of Ajax was represented by painters at the pinnacle of the story (which probably would make it more recognizable) where Ajax is impaled on his sword. Exekias’ depiction of Ajax preparing for his suicide is such a unique representation of a familiar scene to ancient Greeks.

Okay so I have a million more things to say about this painting, cause I absolutely love it and it’s really hard to stop here but the point of this section is to let you all look at it for yourselves. So have fun with it and if you’re not familiar with the process of art analysis maybe you can keep the following things in mind:

How was it seen in an ancient Athenian context?

How would it be seen from a modern contemporary viewpoint? (maybe here it makes sense to consider how we begin to assign meaning to an image)

Should you look at the image with the notion that it is to communicate a type of truth? (maybe take into consideration what ultimately effects the way we interpret art, which is dependent somewhat on our own expectations.)

Maybe you want to do some research on the actual story of the suicide of Ajax to help you grasp the painting

SAMO quotes by Jean Michel Basquiat

2009-03-10T18:21:00.000-07:00

Basquiat was a black American artist who began as a graffiti artist. He became famous for signing his name as, "SAMO" meaning "same old same old" or "same old shit." In his short career as an artist (only nine years before dying of a drug overdose at 27,) he became an icon. He was very close to artists like Andy Warhol and Keith Haring. These are some quotes that appeared in his early graffiti, which was a mixture of both figures and writing.

"SAMO as a neo art form"

"SAMO as an end to mindwash religion, nowhere politics and bogus philosophy."

"SAMO as an escape clause."

"SAMO as an end to playing art."

"SAMO as an alternative 2 playing art with the 'radical chic' sect on Daddy's $ funds."

Provocative Visions: Race and Identity at The Metropolitan Museum of Art

2009-03-06T19:00:00.000-08:00

This summer, I was fortunate enough to intern at the Met in New York City. In addition to giving public tours, I worked under a curator and did the research for (and helped to organize) an exhibition called, Provocative Visions: Race and Identity (Selections from the Permanent Collection.) The exhibition is comprised of the artwork of seven living black American artists. It features the work of Chakaia Booker, Willie Cole, Glenn Ligon, Whitfield Lovell, Alison Saar, Lorna Simpson, and Kara Walker. As the title suggests, it is a very thought-provoking exhibition that looks at the ways in which each artist confronts presumptions concerning race, gender, and identity. The materials used to create the works of art vary. The artists employ such mediums as tires, bicycle parts, and shoes. The controversial nature of the ehxibition is captivating. It calls into question issues of the past and present, specifically for black Americans. Provocative Visions evokes a feeling of shared emotion between artist and viewer. As you walk into the north mezzanine of the modern art gallery and see the 5-foot-wide linocut, "African / American" by Kara Walker, you will understand my enthusiasm. (If anyone saw Kara Walker's exhibition at the Whitney Museum you know just how "provocative" and interesting her work can be.) But hurry! If you are in the New York City area in the next few days you must go see it, because it closes this Sunday (March 8th, 2009.) For more information on the exhibit, click here for the official Met web page.

The Self-Portrait: Beyond the Mirror's Image

2009-03-06T16:04:00.000-08:00

I want to talk about the self-portraits of ten different artists. I'm going to discuss them in terms of six groupings: (1) the self-portrait as identification (2) the self-portrait as presentation of self (3) the self-portrait as self-scrutiny (4) the imaginative self-portrait (5) the anecdotal self-portrait (6) the figurative self portrait.

The self-portrait as identification

The self-portrait as identification, although first seen in ancient Egypt, was prevalent in the Middle Ages and Renaissance period. I want to talk about Jan van Eyck’s Wedding Portrait from 1434. Here, Jan van Eyck really employs an exceptional use of the self-portrait. The painting shows a couple standing facing the viewer while saying their wedding vows. There is a mirror behind them on the bedroom wall, and in the mirror you can see a reflection of Jan van Eyck, which confirms that he is in the room. There’s an inscription above the mirror that means, “Jan van Eyck was here.”

The self-portrait as presentation of self

The German artist, Albrecht Dürer is said to be the first artist to make self-portraits a large part of his work throughout his career. Through the years, he records his changing physical appearance and social status. Dürer’s, Self-portrait from 1500 shows the artist in a direct, frontal pose with a grave expression. In this portrait, there is a real resemblance between himself and the most widely-accepted image of Christ. He is probably trying to affirm his power and influence. This seems pretty bold to me, and definitely moves away from other more ordinary portraits. He uses his artistic abilities to uphold an authoritative image and, in a sense, immortalize himself. This immortalization is something that portrait painters of the time were appointed by employers to do. Even though Dürer’s portraits overtime show a slight emotional evolution, they seem be less concerned with exploring his psyche, and more concerned with conveying his progressing social status.

The self-portrait as self-scrutiny

Rembrandt is, arguably, the first artist to deeply examine himself through his art. He has left 60 self-portraits behind that capture his turbulent life. Through his wives and lovers, from poor to wealthy, and from young to old, we experience this transition through his self-portraiture. My belief is that he modeled for himself so many times not solely because it didn't cost him anything, but because Rembrandt rendered himself in a style that was not possible in his portraits of wealthy clients. By this I mean that he has repeatedly painted himself with a sort of frown on his face, which at times was placed in dim light or shadow. Janson summarizes Rembrandts self-portraits by saying, “…his view of himself reflects every stage of his inner development—experimental in the Leyden years; theatrically disguised in the 1630’s; frank and self-analytical toward the end of his life,…yet full of simple dignity.” In Rembrandt’s final set of self-portraits, done between 1660 and 1669, he looks aged, wrinkled, and weary. Rembrandt said this about this last set of self-portraits: “…and I came, it may be, to look for myself and recognize myself. What have I found? Death painted I see…”

In this category, I also want to discuss one of my favorite artists who is equally famous for his self-portraits, Vincent van Gogh. Unlike Rembrandt who produced his self-portraits progressively throughout his lifetime, Van Gogh painted 22 of them during two turbulent years. During that period (1886-1888) as well as the two years before his 1890 suicide he shows us a man that struggles with loneliness and seems to be almost at odds with life. I think that painting was the driving force in Van Gogh’s life; I think that in painting he found a reason to live for most of his life. He says, “As a suffering creature, I cannot do without something greater than I—something that is my life—the power to create.” I believe that through the creation of his self-portraits, he hoped to find the answers in respect to his failed friendships and the frustrating inconsistency of his emotions. Each of his self-portraits captures a range of detailed emotions like, astonishment, serenity, disturbance, or bewilderment. In his 1889, Self-portrait with Bandaged Head, he renders himself after his well-known mutilation of his ear. In this painting he seems troubled and bemused. It’s as if he is lost within himself, within his world and mind.

Frida Kahlo is another artist who can be understood through her self-portraits. A third of her work is comprised of self-portraits, and she created 55 altogether. She really devoted herself to studying herself in that sense—both physically and mentally. For Kahlo, who had many dismal experiences throughout her life (like her legs crippling from polio, permanent injuries from a bus accident, botched surgeries, and abortions,) representing herself in paintings was therapeutic. “I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best,” she said. In person, Kahlo harbored her afflictions beneath a caustic and unrelenting personality. It was in painting that she unveiled her troubles. In that sense, her self-portraits are both heartbreaking and triumphant. Much the same way that Rembrandt looked himself in the mirror toward the end of his life and accepted his aging appearance, Kahlo accepted and felt comfortable divulging her hardships through her art. But in contrast to Van Gogh who searched for meaning and answers in his self-portraits, Frida Kahlo knew her answers. She used art as a catalyst for the release of unfavorable emotion.

The imaginative self-portrait

Between the lifetimes of Rembrandt and Van Gogh, most artists produced self-portraits in a similar way, focusing on their face and expression without much else in the frame. Then there was Gustave Courbet, who enhanced his self-portrait with fictitious additions, converting the portraits into a sort of mirage. Although Courbet continued the tradition of painting his own likeness, he added to that by staging a scene, or adding people/artifacts to visually communicate his social status or a particular condition of mind. The artist’s face was not the central image. In Courbet’s 1855, Interior of My Studio, A Real Allegory Summing Up Seven Years of My Life as an Artist, the painting becomes a stage. Although a nude model stands posing for Courbet, he paints a beautiful landscape instead. To his left are people that may be symbolic of his home town (hunters, peasants, priests, etc.) On the right, he shows his friends and patrons. The people represent the right and left wing, and so if they were in the same studio together they would not get along. Courbet may have put these people in the painting to suggest conflict among them. Perhaps Courbet is between the two groups painting a landscape to emphasize harmony by promoting a harmonious scene. This painting truly is an allegory, which Courbet said he didn’t paint. I guess the unpredictable aspect of Courbet is part of why we love him. His paintings were the first to deviate from the neck-up self-portrait. Instead, he shows himself to us through his surroundings.

The anecdotal self-portrait

The emergence of Abstractionism in the early 1900’s led to an even further digression from the realistic face than Courbet’s self-portraits. Artists like Picasso and Chagall allowed shapes, patterns and colors to represent their deeper selves. They intentionally strayed from the preceding artistic movements by refusing to attach any importance to accurately representing their physical features. The “father of Abstraction,” Pablo Picasso, created so many different interpretations of himself in various media. His early self-portraits (from 1900 to 1901) are in much the same style as those of Rembrandt and Van Gogh. By 1938, he diverted to abstracting his self-image to such an extent that in one self-portrait, both of his eyes were placed on one side of his face. He uses the anecdotal self-portrait in a series of prints in the 1960’s. In No. 319 of the series, he shows himself as a voyeur wearing a jester’s hat, who looks resentfully at the passionate sex between a young artist and his model. This staging may allude to Picasso’s apparent distress over having aged.

Another great anecdotal self-portrait from the same time period is Marc Chagall’s I and the Village, from 1911. In this painting, Chagall creates a sort of collage of memories from his childhood in Russia. In the center there’s a man and woman (maybe Chagall’s wife.) There are also abstracted figures walking on a hillside. However, the person does not look anything like Chagall, and this can probably be attributed to the fact that he did not refer to a mirror for inspiration. Instead, he depicts a fairytale-like narrative extant in the archives of his own mind.

The figurative self-portrait

Up until this point, everything I’ve talked about has been congruent in that they have all contained human-like figures. When artists like Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko took Abstraction to a new height, human figures were no longer in the composition. The Abstract Expressionists’ works are kind of hard to call portraiture. But aren’t they also deeply emotional and revealing? They are autobiographical effusions. Jackson Pollock says, “every good painter paints what he is.” Pollock’s paintings are swayed by emotional and involuntary impulses. Some see his art as being more in tune with his feelings than the work of the artists I talked about earlier. Janson describes Pollock’s use paint as a “storehouse of pent-up forces for him to release.”

Mark Rothko’s canvases are inundated with bands of color of the highest intensity of hue. This style seems even farther removed from self-portraiture than that of Pollock. But through the striking usage of color, there is an emotion that comes forth in Rothko’s paintings. “The people who weep before my pictures,” Rothko said, “are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them.”

For all artists, the self-portrait is an investigation, an opportunity to see beyond their reflection in the mirror and ask deeper questions that awaken their souls.

I would love to hear your comments about this entry! I hope you enjoyed it.