Art History Today

37 Masters?

Following up on the report of the Rome heist recovery, here’s a article from that fount of art history knowledge- the Telegraph.

The paintings include Portrait of a Knight by Van Dyck, Christ on the Cross by Rubens and The Baptism of Christ by Nicolas Poussin, a 17th century French artist who spent most of his working life in Rome.

Lesser known works include an exquisite painting of the Madonna and Child by the 13th century artist Berlinghiero Berlinghieri, who came from Lucca in Tuscany, and a work by a student of Caravaggio.

Two of the masterpieces may have been painted by Rubens and El Greco, although the attributions are yet to be confirmed.

"Rarely does one recover such a large quantity of works of such artistic importance," said Rossella Vodret, an expert from the ministry of culture.

Five other art works, which were stolen at the same time, are still unaccounted “

In what universe were such badly executed and conceived canvases painted by Rubens and his student Van Dyck?  I’m starting to wonder if the press have mis-represented or mis-quoted Vodret- time will tell..

If anybody has come across a list of the 37 works, then I’d be interested to see it. Most of all I’d love to see a copy of the auction catalogue in which these paintings appeared as Poussin et al.

 

A Few Things

Just a few things: interesting stuff that might interest some people.

The organiser of a forthcoming conference in Amsterdam has asked me to publicise their event, which I’m very happy to do. It’s a conference on the Nabis, or Symbolist painters, to be held on 27th-28th October. 

The conference has been booked for the Thursday 27th and Friday 28th of October 2011 and will take place in Amsterdam, ABN AMRO Bank HQ. The conference will open with a plenary lecture on Thursday and a chance to visit the exhibition with a full day of 8 speakers on Friday. There are no registration charges but please contact Craig Landt ([email protected]) to confirm your place.

Please find the conference programme here Nabis programme

 

 

Lily Ann Pop is an artist who lives in Turin; she has a sacred art project underway called “The Man of the Shroud.” this is always a fascinating subject, and Lily Ann covers it using photography.

From the Artist’s biography:

In March 2009 graduates in painting with the thesis: A mirror of the psyche: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari by Robert Wiene. An analysis of the scenographic aspects. Along with that presents the following four paintings: Square in Holstenwall, The Hallucination, Caesar the Somnambulist.The Awakening from the Grave, Caesar's death.
In May 2011 participates at the Sacred Art exhibition organized by the New Artemisia Gallery, located in Bergamo, Italy, with two photographs titled The Man of the Shroud (#1 and #2).
In October 2011 participates at the collective exhibition Art Italy in London at SW1 Gallery.
The artist is currently represented by Agora Gallery from New York.

The artist is keen to promote this project in the U.K., so if any museum people are reading this. Lily Ann’s full biography and portfolio van be found here.

 

Since I participated in a conference on Rubens last year I’ve kept an eye on all things Rubensian. This is the latest issue of the Rubens periodical, the Rubenianum Quarterly; topics include “ A Rubens University” and “Palazzo Rubens: The Master as Architect.”  You can download it here.

Eating the Young

While watching the events that that led up to last and this week's decision to give the turbulent tuition fees bill an easy ride through Parliament, an image came to me: Goya's grotesque and unsettling Saturn Devouring His Son (1819-28), itself based on a harrowing precedent by Rubens.

Why? Because, despite all the ambiguity and difficulty of the image, it seems to me to symbolize the devouring of the young by an ideological monster that is completely out of touch with the real problems and trials faced by youth. Maybe it's not surprising that I should recall Goya's bleak canvas in these ideologically combustible times: Goya's art always had a political layer burning below its surface, which burst into splendid flame in some of his revolutionary paintings. This is hardly surprising as the artist lived through an era of seismic upheavals, something like those beginning to characterize our own times.

In his searching book on Goya, Robert Hughes says:

"What Goya painted is the combination of uncontrollable appetite and overwhelming shame that comes with addiction- Saturn goggle eyed and gaping, tormented by his lust for human meat, for an unthinkable incest. If he were merely hungry, he would not appall and move us so. And in what sort of society would the fathers eat the young? Surely, one in which the old perceive the new as a deadly threat: a society so reactionary that "tradition" imagined as the absolute reign of total authority, is worth murdering for."

In our society things haven't got that bad yet, although the fathers of this contemptible administration, this no-mandate Con-Dem coalition, are slaughtering the dreams of millions of innocents. But the category of young cannot be confined to age; it extends to older and middle-age people who feel young at heart, and have sympathy at the plight of the EMA- deprived school kids, the students and other disenfranchised groups being cut loose from society because of the government's reckless austerity plans. Even Daily Mail readers, God help us, support the students despite them breaking out last week.

It seems to me that the government see those who don't agree with them as infants- the word actually means without speech- so that they can be more easily controlled and reduced to silence. You've only got to listen to their language. Listen to Prime Minister David Cameron who came out of Downing St after the so-called Battle of Parliament Square to admonish the children with a stern rebuke; he resembled a cross between a father figure and a headmaster pronouncing condign punishment on the whole of the family or school. Listen to Home Secretary Theresa May describing the students' behavior as "disgraceful", like a schoolmarm wagging the finger at errant children. Then there's the police's method of kettling, which is surely a brutal form of detention. Concluding this family plot, there's the avuncular side of the family, the House of Lords, some of whom may want to intervene, but feel that by and large the headmaster paterfamilias is right, and they should just let him get on with punishing the children.

One of these oligarchs, Lord Browne, is the author of one of the most damaging documents ever devised for higher education in the U.K. It advocates nothing less than the wholesale commoditization of learning; every part of the educational process reduced to a transaction that can be measured on the balance sheet. Browne, a previous head of B.P. is a Gradgrind for our times; but what perturbs me most about the Browne Report is its attitude to the arts and humanities. The word "arts" only appears once in the entire document, and it's clear that it's a charter for philistinism.

But as James Vernon, in one of the best analyses of the Browne situation, points out, rather than playing the philistine card, we should make it absolutely clear to everybody how relevant arts, humanities and social sciences courses are to higher education. As Vernon notes, there were more studying in these subjects (1,073, 465) as opposed to STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Maths) subjects (829,115) during 2008/9). That's a 28% increase since 2001/2 as opposed to a 20% increase for STEM. And another conclusion Vernon draws, is that arts, humanities and social science studies are "cross-subsidizing the more expensive STEM fields that have fewer students." Doesn't it therefore make sense economically to try to build educational institutions and programmes that incorporate a cross-disciplinary approach between the humanities and STEM instead of eliminating one at the expense of the other? Though strategies like Vernon's are worth praising, I sometimes feel like Martin McQuillan who laments that a government that doesn't see the value of the arts never will.

There's also the argument that the humanities improve the quality of society; that they make us more rounded citizens; that they are essential for democracy. That's the tenet of a book, Not for Profit: Why Democracy needs the Humanities, just published by the American philosopher Martha Nussbaum, who's also speaking at conferences on the humanities this week.

It is evident that at the heart of the students' protest towards the regime of austerity lies great ingenuity and inventiveness. The counter-austerity movement is powered by creativity, an urge to construct imaginatively, expand the horizons of debate, rather than destroy self-expression and reduce ambition, which is what this government's measures will result in. The Top Shop demonstrations have the look of performance art, and watch this video of the demonstration, teach-in inside Tate Britain from last week. It's just one of many examples of how youth is making its voice heard loud and clear, almost drowning out the drone of the self-satisfied media and artistic managerial elite, represented by the Turner Prize dinner guests and the modern art magnifici. I particularly liked the students' use of the dunce's cap because there's another Goya reference there- his paintings of victims of the inquisition forced to wear carozzas, which evolved into the dunce's cap. The juxtaposition of students wearing these and frowning police is purely accidental, but it's a nice update of Goya's repressive state apparatus and innocent victims in a carnivalesque setting.

Though the Con-Dems may attempt to silence this legitimate protest movement, to choke the spirit of youth before it has been allowed to express itself, I'm confident they won't succeed. Just look at the expression on the face of Saturn, the personification of this ideological, youth-destroying monster. Rubens settled for a cannibalistic ogre munching on the belly of his son, but Goya's version taps the psychological just as much as the visceral element. His Saturn displays fear because, going back to Hughes's fascinating commentary on this darkest of Goya's "dark paintings", the father is finding the young hard to literally stomach and he knows it, but must keep going because he is suffering from some kind of compulsion.

Looking around at the tireless resistance that is cemented by imagination, passion and an unflinching belief in its aims, I think the student movement, and its growing affiliations – composed of people of all ages-, are all set to give the Coalition the biggest upset stomach of its life.

There's more from me on the Browne report (and other topics) in an interview at Three Pipe Problem, and for another U.K. academic's view of it see this interview on the same site.

A Brief Sketch of Painting in Baroque Naples

Apologies for the scarcity of posts of late. No time to blog because of writing lectures, conference papers, proof-reading, administration and teaching. To make up for it, here's a brief survey of baroque painting in Naples taken from my lecture notes and the writings of various seicento scholars.

 Pre- Baroque phase.  

 No native school of painting in existence before the 17^th century. However, Vasari visited Naples in 1544 and patrons in Naples looked outside to recruit early renaissance artists like Cavallino, Giotto and Colantonio (pupil of Antonello di Messina). High Renaissance paintings by Titian (Annunciation) and Raphael (Madonna of the Fish) in Naples- below. Interest in Flemish artists by Neapolitan painters in mid 16^th century. Paul Bril, a Flemish landscape artist, painted in Naples, in 1602. His views of bosky groves may have inspired Salvator Rosa, a native.

 

First Caravaggio-esque phase.

 Neapolitan Baroque painting starts here, 1606-7, the year Caravaggio swept through the city. Three significant altarpieces: The Flagellation, Seven Acts of Mercy- below- and the Crucifixion of St Andrew. Caravaggio's influence on local paintings probably dates from 1608; also, Louis Finson, a Fleming, stayed in Naples until 1612 painting copies after Caravaggio. Caracciolo painted religious pictures on a small scale and worked for some of Caravaggio's patrons; his Salome owes much to Caravaggio's version (London).



Spanish artist Jusepe Ribera (Spagnoletto) moved from Rome to Naples in 1616. Though familiar with Caravaggio's Roman manner, he did not start signing his pictures until the 1620s when he was confident he had assimilated Caravaggio's style into his Neapolitan painting. Ribera's Drunken Silenus (Naples) – below- is an interesting blend of Caravaggio, Rubens and the prints of the Carracci. Flemish art does slightly influence Ribera in his later period: the flamboyant drapery in Apollo and Marsyas is reminiscent of Van Dyck, whose paintings were in the Antwerp merchant Gaspar Roomer's collection. Ribera lived and worked in Naples for the rest of his life. 

Move towards Bolognese Classicism.  

From Rome came the French painter Simon Vouet, who is likely to have visited Naples about 1620. Two of his pictures have been connected with Neapolitan clients: the Circumcision- below- and St Bruno being given the Rule. Though these two paintings, especially the Circumcision, show Caravaggio's influence, they also demonstrate knowledge of the lighter palette of Lanfranco and Bolognese classicism. It was this stylistic détente that served Vouet as he moved towards a more international style.  

 
One of the greatest exponents of Bolognese classicism was Guido Reni. While in Naples on his second visit during 1621-2, he painted the delicate and naturalised Meeting of Christ and St John which had an influence on painting in the city. Artemesia Gentileschi was one of the painters who began to outgrow her Caravaggism in favour of a more classical painting. She probably arrived in Naples about 1629-30. A formidable lady, she seems to have actively engaged with other painters rather than producing works in isolation for sale outside Naples, although she did that too. Her Annunciation (Naples) mixes Caravaggio's chiaroscuro and Vouet's colour quite effectively while the figures in her Corisca and the Satyr- below- betrays the influence of Reni. Mention should also be made of Stanzione, ' the so-called Guido Reni of Naples'. His Massacre of the Innocents conflates the grotesque horror of Ribera with Reni's version of the Massacre (Bologna). Poussin's Massacre (Chantilly) seems another point of reference.  

 

Neo-Venetianism and the High Baroque in Naples.

From the 1630s there is marked movement away from solid forms towards a more painterly art, more Venetian in look. The realism of Ribera and the classicism of Stanzione was exchanged for a wave of painting that could be called neo-Venetian, but this new painterliness was not a reaction against previous art- it expressed the wish to paint more broadly. In addition, there was the influence of the pictures of Rubens and Van Dyck, whose Feast of Herod (Edinburgh) – below- and Susannah and the Elders (Munich) were in the collection of Gaspar Roomer. Also, works by Pietro da Cortona and Lanfranco had arrived in Naples while Neapolitan artists went to Rome and studied ceiling paintings there. It is true to say that Naples did not experience a "crisis of painterliness' as Rome, since naturalism and classicism remained with the new style in Naples. It was only after 1656- the year of the plague- with the work of artists like Preti and Giordano that painting in Naples began to catch up with the high baroque in Rome.

Key dates.  

1606-7- Caravaggio in Naples.

1610- Death of Caravaggio at Porto Ercole.

1612- Finson leaves Naples for Antwerp.

1615- Salvator Rosa born

1616- Arrival of Ribera from Rome.

1620- Possible visit of Vouet.

1621-2- Reni's second visit.

1629-30- Arrival of Artemesia Gentileschi.

1630- Arrival of Domenichino from Rome; Velasquez in Naples.

1631- Eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

1633- Arrival of Lanfranco in Naples.

1634- Gaspar Roomer's gallery established; birth of Giordano.

1635- Death of Caracciolo.

1640- Rubens's 'Feast of Herod' enters Roomer's collection.

1641- Death of Domenichino in Naples.

1647- Revolt of Masaniello.

1652- Death of Ribera.

1656- Plague breaks out; Preti arrives; Stanzione dies.

1674- Death of Gaspar Roomer.

 

 

Van Dyck and Rubens

The current debate about the two, almost identical, works by Anthony van Dyck is fortuitous; it comes exactly at the time when I'm teaching classes on the Northern baroque, specifically in 17th century Antwerp. So, I'm able to combine work with a blog post, and it's high time I did another post.

The Rotterdam panel was once owned by Rubens, which implies that Van Dyck modified Ruben's design to fit his own ideas. Questions of connoisseurship and attribution aside, the panels invite speculation on the relationship between two of the greatest artists that the 17th century produced.

Anthony van Dyck probably first met Rubens in 1615, the year that Rubens supposedly painted a portrait of the younger artist. If it is by Rubens, the portrait seems an attempt to check the stylistic exuberance demonstrated in Van Dyck's memorable Self-Portrait of 1613-14. In that striking image, Van Dyck looks back over his shoulder at the spectator; the effect is ambivalent, half innocence and half calculation, the latter borne out by his stare which is unflinching for such an apprentice. For apprenticed he was- not to Rubens, but to the mediocre Hendrik van Balen- a situation to be improved when Van Dyck officially became a pupil of Rubens in 1617. Rubens himself never took on young pupils preferring elder, accomplished artists, his reason being that younger painters should train with another master before entering his workshop. Perhaps this controlling tendency lies behind his portrait of Van Dyck, which whilist retaining something of the "romanticism" of Van Dyck's own, re-models his image. Gone are the tendrils of hair falling down over the younger artist's forehead; instead they are eclipsed by the shadow above the eyes.

Although Van Dyck seems to have joined Rubens's workshop around 1616-17, the employment situation was far from simple. The younger artist may have kept his own workshop, whilist also working in Rubens's, an odd, and illegal state of affairs since Van Dyck was going against the rules of the Antwerp Guild. Rubens seems to have turned a blind eye to this, not out of affection for his problematic pupil, but because Van Dyck was the greatest painter, after the master, in the entire workshop. Yet the two semi-identical panels suggest a dynamic between the two studios. The Stockholm panel is thought to be a copy, possibly based on the Rotterdam version which may have been used as a model. But did the Rotterdam version- owned by Rubens- come from his studio initially, or were the two panels conceived by Van Dyck in his own studio?  

That- and other connoisseurship issues- may be resolved by the large Van Dyck exhibition being planned for the Prado in 2012, but the relationship between Rubens and Van Dyck still fascinates with its narrative of intergenerational tensions, multiple studio operations and competitive rivalry. Consulting a catalogue of the Van Dyke exhibition of 1999, I find mention of even possible envy on Rubens's part towards a genius 22 years his junior, rapidly catching up with the elder artist, even surpassing him in one genre- portraiture. According to this source, it was the 17th century critic and biographer Bellori, who said that Rubens would only cede to Van Dyck in the field of portraiture, and no other. This may be why portraiture is emphasized in the allegorical headpiece to Bellori's Life of Anthony van Dyck. This figure- a woman holding up a mirror whilst trampling the ape of nature- representing "Judicious Imitation" explains why – as Claire Pace and Janice Bell explain in a wonderful essay on Bellori's allegories- Van Dyck whilist tied to his model as a portraitist, nevertheless was selective and judicious enough to supplant its limitations and put portraits on a level almost with history painting.

So much for Van Dyck in the abstract, but his early life in Antwerp was firmly down to earth with family squabbles, bankruptcy and acrimonious law suits. Van Dyck's genius was born of painful necessity, which takes the shine off the myth of the aristocratic artist fashioning courtly pictures for jaded and decadent elites. Van Dyck's financial embarrassment and its consequences may well have instilled in him that competitive and determined nature that gave him the confidence to go up against one of the greatest of baroque masters.  

Left-hand Theory

Reading Lisa Jardine's meditation on left-handedness in a BBC article put me in mind of an old rock song from the 1970s. An odd recollection? No, because the song was called "Left Hand Theory" hence the post title. PFM's "Left Hand Theory" is a potted history of left-handed achievements in culture. Mentioned are southpaw baseball players, witches, associated with the sinister- sinistral = left-, guitarists like Jimi Hendrix, and for the artists, Leonardo da Vinci, who was ambidextrous.

Left-handed people are comparatively rare in the adult population- 7-10%. You're in good artistic company if you're a left-handed person with a creative inclination. Looking at a list on a site called Famous lefthanders, I see Leonardo and Michelangelo amongst the artists, but I didn't know Rubens was part of this talented company. Knowing that, I'm even more impressed at the fluency with which his brush, pen and chalk traveled the artistic surface. Durer's on the list- but that seems wrong. As Jardine rightly points out, the self-portrait drawing of Durer does not show left-handedness; he's using a mirror so the image is naturally reversed.  

Here's the lyric to "Left-hand Theory", a beautifully concise presentation of the creative left-hand.  

 

Left-hand Theory- PFM

 

You left-handed people

You have your own special flair

Fast left-handed players

Slow men had better beware

Tough baseball southpaw

Left tennis smash

 

Left-handed person

Once was a sign of a witch

Now the world needs them

To teach us a different stitch

What do they mirror?

A contrast in view

 

Think of da Vinci  

His ambidextrous arts

Hendrix's guitar sang

Sweet feedback lightnin' from mars

And in reflection

We see the stars