Thursday, November 17, 2011

9-11 Memorial: Commemoration through symbolism and simplicity


“Ten years have passed since a perfect blue sky morning turned into the blackest of nights. Since then we’ve lived in sunshine and in shadow, and although we can never unsee what happened here, we can also see that children who lost their parents have grown into young adults, grandchildren have been born and good works and public service have taken root to honor those we loved and lost.”
New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, speaking at the memorial service in New York

Last week I had the honor of being one of the first among the many millions that are sure to follow to visit the memorial built in honor of the tragedy of September 11, 2001. A mere decade after the terrible attacks that shocked our nation, we have begun to rebuild the infrastructure, and the hole left in our hearts, on both simple and grand scale. This monument is sure to join a long list of memorials and tributes that flake our country’s history and visual culture.

I was happy to see that there was a great number of people both connected directly and indirectly to the event lined up around the block to get tickets for entry. Tourists were taking pictures and reveling in the beautifully constructed scenery while families and friends were showing their love and respect for the individuals honored in long listings of the lives lost. Chocked full of symbolism and aesthetic appeal, architect Michael Arad and landscape architect Peter Walker created a memorial that can speak to anyone who pays it a visit.

The names of each of the many thousands of people who were lost in 2001, as well as the individuals who died in 1993 and lost their memorial when the towers collapsed, are listed along the edges of the monuments, reminiscent of Maya Lin’s Vietnam Memorial Wall. The two square pools at the center of these listings contain the largest man-made waterfalls in North America with a separate waterspout for each individual life lost. This overwhelming number of spouts combines and falls to a pool that serves to remind us of the collective loss of the event. The pool then falls to a small, but ever present, void that runs too deep for us to see but we all feel in our hearts runs beyond our personal comprehension. The waterfalls are continuous and everlasting, much like the eternal flame at the grave of John F. Kennedy, a sign that we will never forget and never let the fire in our hearts extinguish.


A line of trees surrounding the pools marks the original footprints of the two towers before they fell. In addition to practical design, the trees seem to serve as a reminder of the rebirth, growth, and continuation to life that has come in the aftermath of the fall of the World Trade Center. Beyond the memorial itself, the life of the city, and especially the growth of the new World Trade Center buildings, envelope the memorial site as a protector of the memory and as a reminder that though we may stumble in the light of tragedy, we can pull ourselves up and grow loftier and stronger than before.

The National September 11 Memorial is a true work of architectural and artistic genius with a superb use of evocative symbolism and aesthetic simplicity. This site makes America proud and will stand in history along side the likes of the obelisk devoted to Washington, the highly recognizable figure of an enthroned Lincoln, and Maya Lin’s wall of names commemorating the losses of a tragic war. Most importantly it serves as a lasting tribute to the 3000 people killed in the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, the victims of the planes involved, and the six people who died in the World Trade Center bombing in 1993.

Whatever each persons reason for visiting the site, there is a feeling of strength and renewed appreciation for all Americans and all peoples. We are standing up together to support the claim that despite catastrophic attacks of terrorism, ten years later we are still one strong nation and we can turn a tragedy into a beautiful oasis of love and remembrance.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

To Hold You Over

I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for a month. And I'm sorry that this isn't going to be a real post, but I wanted to advertise that my summer research paper (mentioned in this post from July) is now online.

If you have about an hour and the earnest desire to read 30 pages of Memphis history you can find it here: http://rhodes.edu/academics/23930.asp under "Projects Directed by Professor Victor Coonin." And if you're REALLY into that, you can find other Amy's paper from two years ago here: http://rhodes.edu/academics/16456.asp (look under "Professor Milton Moreland").


Thanks for your patience, anonymous online community.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Andy Goldsworthy: Immortalizing the Ephemeral


Andy Goldsworthy is a man of many artistic talents, utilizing sculpture, photography, and a philosophical perspective on nature to create works of art that provide a social commentary on the inevitable power of natural forces. Officially labeled as an environmental sculptor, he utilizes objects he finds in nature – leaves, stones, ice, wood, etc. – to create abstract formations outdoors in an environment that is generally free from human interaction. During his creation process, Goldsworthy approaches his natural surroundings without preconceived notions of what he is going to produce. He observes the objects he encounters as his materials for an art piece and sees the environment as his canvas. He does not actually create; he manipulates to produce a finite aesthetic experience. To make this possible, Goldsworthy claims to be aware of a specific energy in nature that he rises above to produce a tangible art form. These works are, themselves, temporary. Once he creates the product, Goldsworthy leaves it in the environment to let nature take its course. In this way, these ephemeral sculptures challenge the importance of art as it is historically characterized by its permanence and significance as historical evidence.

Though his sculptures themselves are merely fleeting moments of artistic brilliance, Goldsworthy immortalizes his work through the use of photography. According to the artist, "Each work grows, stays, decays- integral parts of a cycle which the photograph shows at its height, marking the moment when the work is most alive. There is an intensity about a work at its peak that I hope is expressed in the image. Process and decay are implicit." The photographs allow for the artist’s creations to be environmentally friendly and naturally ephemeral, while still gaining mass exposure and appeal. He does not create art that takes up unnecessary space or destroys natural objects. He documents them in their environment and brings the representation of them at their height of aesthetic pleasure to his audiences. In this way, he creates a images of the ideal that cannot wither away or be destroyed. Nature plays the role of destructor for the object, but it will remain unharmed, beautiful, and inspiring through his photographic evidence, which captures the sculpture as the artist believes it should be seen for eternity.

Goldsworthy’s photograph Rowan Leaves with Hole illustrates the artist’s contrasting transient properties of his sculpture with the immortality of his photography. The piece itself is comprised of rowan leaves of various hues of red and yellow placed in a circular pattern on a dark ground. By placing the darker, more decayed leaves on the outer ring with the more vibrant coloration at the center of the piece, there is an appearance of a three-dimensional depression into the central black hole. The circular formation of the leaves does not appear natural, but it serves to represent the cyclical temperament of natural forces. The strong contrast of yellow against the solid black creates the illusion of infinite unknown space beneath the pile, symbolizing the division of life, as it cycles through the process of leaves in fall, with the uncertainty of death and decay that ultimately at the center of all living things. This theme mimicked in the comparison between the sculpture and photograph themselves. The inevitability of nature to bring an end to the piece by blowing away the leaves is undermined by the lastingness of the photograph’s capture of the moment of perfection in the piece.


Similarly, Stone Tower illustrates a disturbance in the environment without a clear indication of where or when it is taking place, but it is done with a new set of materials. The photograph, shot from the angle most appealing to the artist, allows for the illusion of a never-ending tower of stones. Bilaterally symmetrical, the photograph shows the “tower” with a base of larger stones that moves into a darker, less recognizable section at the top. It is hard to tell whether the rocks themselves get significantly smaller as the construction moves upward in the composition or if the piece itself monumentally overshadows the observer. Like all of Goldsworthy’s works, the sculpture itself is temporary. Also, as in all of his work, the photograph of the piece provides much more than an illustration of the sculpture. His perspective provides a symbolic understanding of the work while providing his audience with a lasting impression of his artistic endeavors. The choice of angle and representation in this photograph may serve as a commentary on the disconnectedness of understanding the earthly realm with that of the heavens above, as the composition becomes harder for the viewer to read as it rises higher. The solid pedestal of nature, as shown through the largest rock on the bottom, serves as the base for human reasoning about the unknown beliefs that rise from our interactions with natural elements.

Though not as artistically ambiguous in regards to time and place of the sculpture as the previously discussed photographs, Before the Mirror shows a circular construction made from weaving bamboo at the edge of a body of water. Though the piece again seems unnatural to its surroundings, it draws attention to its surrounding elements. Like the image with rowan leaves, the photograph references cyclical patterns of nature, but it encompasses and draws focus to the environmental combination, as well as separation, of water, earth, and sky. Though each of them is different, they are all necessary for the balance of environmental occurrences. From the calm center of the sculpture the bamboo becomes more chaotic, much like many natural forces such as that of a tornado or hurricane.

Goldsworthy’s photography does more than simply document the product of environmental sculpture genius. It captures the soul of an artwork that springs from a man’s understanding of, connection with, and power over natural elements, ones that fade away but live eternally through the picture. Unlike sculptures that do not tell the viewer how to access them and unlike photographs that solicit questions about the scene shown, Goldsworthy’s photographs show the viewer how to see his sculptures with the clear understanding that he is showing nature as he formed it at the height of its aesthetic appeal. He catches a fleeting moment of beauty and wonder in the ability of man to modify natural elements before nature overcomes him to take back what is hers once again.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Visual Culture: Art is Everywhere


Though I've yet to see a single episode of Dexter, it is next on my list of shows to stream while procrastinating which is why I stopped to read an article concerning this gritty Showtime series about a vigilante serial killer. I then interrupted my process of pre-procrastinating by becoming enraptured by the article's banner pic and began writing this article. Thus we are in the fourth dimension of procrastination here where space and time bend so far backward that you actually feel like you might be getting some work done.

Anyway, my internal dialogue upon noticing Dexter's promo poster (top right) went something like this: "He's holding his chin in his hand rather confrontationally. Wait a minute, that's not his hand; that hand is dead. Ew, gross he's holding his face with some dead guy's hand. Oh dear, he probably killed that guy. Dexter thinks he's God or something. OH MY GOSH IT'S COURBET!"

That last leap may have been a bit far for non-art historians so allow me to explain. In 1845-46 when he would have been in his mid-twenties, Courbet produced a self-portrait (top left), also known as Man with a Leather Glove. The key feature of this image upon which I intend to focus today is the hand that grazes Courbet's cheek as he wistfully looks out from the canvas looking downward just enough to miss eye contact with us, his viewers. Though it's difficult to glean from this small slide, in better images it's pretty easy to notice that the hand has a significantly more finished quality than Courbet's face or any of the other surrounding details. (Finished in this sense refers to an art historical term meaning the treatment of the pigment on canvas, basically whether it has a glossy, varnished, smooth look or a rougher, matte, more textured appearance.) The effect of this disparity between the face and hand is an eerie sense that though the hand clearly connects to Courbet's arm and then his body, it feels as if the hand is not his own or that it is separate from his personal identity.

The hand is also disproportionately large, as big as his own head, and at the center of the painting it becomes the focus rather than Courbet himself. This opens a conversation about the hand as the instrument of genius which creates his art (note that there is a secondary focus upon Courbet's other hand as well), and begs the question about where the separation lies between cosmic, external inspiration versus the internalization and execution of said magic by the artist himself. Is this hand a simple sign of Courbet's egotism, an indication of the relationship between talent and skill, or a complex combination of both? (This third option is the most likely candidate. Incidentally, other Amy has completed research on this painting so I look forward to her contribution to this discussion.)

That conversation for now is beyond the scope because the real interest for my current purposes is the evident connection between this 19th portrait and a very 21st century pop culture pic. The visual connection between the two - by virtue of the two men's poses alone - I trust is clear to my readers. And what's better is the obvious art historical allusion in that the hand cradling Dexter's face is equally dis-associated with his person as is Courbet's. It may at first seem like the connection ends there being that Courbet's hand conveys a personal connection to genius whereas Dexter's disembodied appendage mostly connotes his murderous proclivities. Thinking more critically though, don't the hands essentially argue the same thing? They both basically say, "I am the creator/destroyer. I can control what exists and what shouldn't. I produce my work, driven by inexpressible motivations, which are beyond judgment by you who are ignorant to such feelings."

I was imminently pleased with the producers and art directors of Dexter who subtly re-presenting this history for us in the promotional media for their show. And in a final twist indicating art history's imminent depth, Courbet's original image itself was lifted from Michelangelo's master work on the Sistine Ceiling. The final piece falls into place when considering this hand of God. Courbet directly referenced this item in his self-portrait which the creators of Dexter then quoted centuries after that. Yes, Dexter feels like God and so does Courbet. And what better way to visually prove that than by using images from the collective consciousness of visual culture? So the next time you pick up a TVGuide or watch that ad campaign for Magic Make-up Eyelash Blast Something-or-other remember that what you're seeing probably has more history than you think. One can never forget, art is everywhere.




Image credit: I put this one together myself with pictures from the public domain. My favorite part of this photoshop adventure was saving the .jpg to my desktop under the name "DexCour."

By the way, I've missed the last few weeks because I've been engrossed writing a lengthy essay on 1940s Memphis art and politics. Once that's uploaded to the web in about a month, I'll provide a link to it for my die-hard friends. Also, Amy's back in the country now which means she'll return soon to class this site up with a little archeo-ancient knowledge from Pompeii.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Potter Pals and Paintings


In honor of the final Harry Potter flick which opened this week, I've been trying to think of a way to talk about the series on this blog, and an idea finally struck last night. Admittedly through a stretch I realized that the major contribution art plays in the adventures of Harry, Hermione, and Ron is the talking paintings dressing the walls of Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding world. So what might happen, do you think, if our real life muggle paintings were gifted with the same type of animation as their fictional, magical counterparts?

First of all, religious works would be far more precious and valuable. Consider the doctrinal conflicts we could resolve if we just took those issues straight to the source. I wonder if a Byzantine icon Jesus would disagree with Leonardo's Christ in the Last Supper. Or what would both of those two say to the Early Christian good shepherd?

And what about modern painting/portraiture? The talking heads in Harry Potter all appear to ambiguously date to be 18th or 19th century English portraits, but surely my imagination game can stretch those boundaries a bit. Consider Braque's Man with a Violin or just imagine what Picasso's Desmoiselles d'Avignon would say to us. I already cover my ears instinctively to fend off their taunts and expletives.

But the painting I'd be most curious to have a conversation with is Manet's Olympia, that straightforward prostitute, undaunted by your leers prepared to offer you a bargain as long as the price is right. More than that, Olympia is also imbued with centuries of art historical allusion (from a direct reference of Titian to addressing general themes of the nude in art) of which I believe she is keenly aware. So in this mythical conversation, after after I've dissuaded Olympia of my potentially illicit intentions (and perhaps after her handmaid brought her a cover-up), I'd want to shoot the breeze with this petite intellectual who has overcome a repressed life by mastering the world's oldest trade. Constantly objectified yet perennially in control of what her audience sees, I think Olympia would have deeply personal insights into the idea of art itself.

In all honesty, if I had the gift of magic like Harry and friends I'd probably cast a few other spells before bringing my paintings to life (pick-up Quidditch anyone?). Still, don't you think a conversation with the Mona Lisa would be pretty damn cool?

What painting(s) would you talk to if you could?

Thanks to Wikipedia, Artchive, and some clever kid on photobucket for the images.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Arkansas?

On November 11th of this year, Alice Walton of the Walmart family fortune will open the doors of her dream child, Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. The multi-million dollar investment will house some of America's most valuable artworks from the likes of John Singer Sargent, Jasper Johns, and Norman Rockwell (see his iconic Rosie the Riveter below) in a collection of about 600 canvases. It will, no doubt, be a formidable and significant museum based upon this early press alone, even before Walton has released information about the other 90% of the museum's holdings. Naturally, a museum of this stature will be located in heart of American arts culture - Bentonville, Arkansas.

Huh? If you've never heard of Bentonville, it's located in northwest Arkansas near the slightly larger township of Fayetteville, both of which are about three hours from Little Rock. Bentonville's previous (and only other) claim to fame is as the hometown of the original Walmart, hence Alice Walton's affinity for the locale. Unfortunately for her, very few members of the art world share Walton's affection for the small-town setting. Since announcing her plan in the early 2000s, the East Coast has balked at the idea of relinquishing canvases destined for Crystal Bridges. The establishment seems to believe that selling art to Walton and her museum is like sentencing the American masterworks to a slow death in a mid-Southern oblivion. They parallel this museum with the same criticisms which have been leveled at Walmart, as if large, laboriously gathered art collections are in any way related to depreciation related to mass production. One particularly sour critic, Rebecca Mead of the New Yorker calls Crystal Bridges "Wal-Art." Evidently, entrenched detractors find it offensive that the heartland dares claim a stake in Americana which is as much a part of the East Coast as it is part of the rolling central plains.

The New York Times at least takes a kinder approach by pointing out that the museum will be located in an unexpected location, but then dedicates the rest of its article to explaining Walton's intentions behind her choice. It was primarily this article which convinced me of Walton's sincerity and competence as an art collector. It seems Walton has been interested in art for 25 years, during the last 10 of which she was specifically collecting works with the museum in mind. She has surrounded herself with expert art historians who have also guided her choices and helped shape to museum from a formally educated perspective. And in terms of situating the museum in Bentonville, I think it's a bold and magnanimous move.

The act parallels to me the move that Samuel H. Kress undertook in the 1950s. Though nowadays Kress is largely unknown, he and his low-price, high-volume convenience stores used to be a household name in America. Like Walton and her family, Kress became a millionaire off of his popular market shops and eventually returned the favor to America by donating the artworks he had collected via the nickels and dimes of Kress store patrons. Though Kress's collection of art was largely Italian and he dispersed his works to museums throughout the U.S., I applaud Walton's decision to gather American art and to display it in middle America among the original consumers who made her dream possible. I think New York and the East Coast need to recognize that arts culture can and should exist outside the purview of elites in high-rise lofts. There are drawbacks to any museum in every location, but art can be appreciated anywhere - yes, even in the backwaters of rural Arkansas. It's touching that the objects in Crystal Springs will get to live in a uniquely American setting, and I hope even the city-slickers from back East will be able to make the trip come November to witness the manifestation of an American legacy.


Sources
BigThink.com: http://bigthink.com/ideas/39056
The New Yorker: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/06/27/110627fa_fact_mead
NYT: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/17/arts/design/alice-walton-on-her-crystal-bridges-museum-of-american-art.html?pagewanted=1&_r=4&ref=arts

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Impressionist Exhibits! Go! Go! Go!


The Impressionists are making quite an “impression” in the south this summer. Impressionism is easily one of the most recognized and loved of the modern art movements with well-known artists such as Monet, Degas, Renoir, and Cezanne decorating the white walls of museums. These artists captured the world with new waves of light, color, and paint application that changed the course of modern art to this day.

Until June 29 the Arkansas Art Center has a fantastic exhibit of Impressionist art titled “The Impressionists and their Influence.” Additionally Memphis’ Brooks Museum and Dixon Art Gallery are collaborating in their own Impressionist ventures to highlight a similar display of high quality pieces from the art movement.

If you’re in Arkansas or Tennessee, please try to support your local art galleries. These exhibits are high quality shows that rival big city museum displays, so take advantage of the close proximity and low cost of admission.

Ernest C. Withers Worth Remembering



A recent visit to Beale Street in Memphis with some friends led me to the gallery of Ernest C. Withers, one of history’s most prolific photographers of African American history in 20th century America. Having taken many art history and photography classes, I’ve run across Withers’ work numerous times, but this particular visit finally brought his work to life for me.

In late December of last year I was devastated to read that the famous civil rights photographer had been a covert FBI informant in Memphis. Withers provided a first hand visual account of southern civil rights movement: the murder of Emmett Till, the Montgomery bus boycott, the crisis of the Little Rock nine at Central High School, the integration of Ole Miss, the Memphis sanitation strike, and eventually the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. in 1968.

One of his most famous photographs is of Martin Luther King, Jr. at the funeral of Medgar Evans, a man who literally fought to the death for the abolition of the Jim Crow laws. Withers captured the tireless hardship of the fight against segregation, shown clearly in the pain and stress apparent on King’s face.


Though it has been proven through a series of investigations that he was in fact working for the government during the time he spent with King and his contemporary revolutionaries, does the value of his work diminish? I think not. He managed to document one of the greatest movements in American history and despite his reasons, he gave us some of the most incredible examples of documentary photography in photographic history. The Ernest C. Withers Gallery remains open on Beale Street in Memphis, TN if you are willing to visit and make your own judgments of the photographer's merit.


Sunday, June 12, 2011

Thinking with the Wrong Head

Before you even read my post, the article here deserves primary interest. I owe all credit to the geniuses at BigThink.com for relating Rep. Anthony Weiner's recent public debacle to an art historical precedent.

As Bob Duggan says in his BigThink post, Congressman Weiner's misguided digital communiqués pick up upon a tradition that has been prevalent in visual media essentially since the dawn of time when men decided that they ran the world (though we'll leave the specifics of that debate up for discussion). In short, men have always believed that bigger is better - and you better make it known who's the cock of the walk, so to speak. Duggan cites the infamously challenged progenitor King Henry VIII's portrait by Hans Holbien the Younger. The King here was trying to prove visually, before he had proved physically, that he had the might to produce a male heir. Duggan also goes on to smartly note that phallic symbols not only connote material power, but spiritual right as well with Leo Steinberg's thesis that "many images of Jesus Christ as an infant emphasized his genitalia." Thus the purely visceral concept of human sexuality and passion transcends into the religious realm of divine authority manifest in, of all things, a penis.

So where does this art history put us in regards to the contemporary world? Well, far from the divine rights of kings I'd say. I understand and very much enjoy Duggan's perspective on the male desire to visually prove to us what apparently eludes verbal description. But it's also important to note that Anthony Weiner was not, in any way, deliberately tapping into this art historical tradition. For one thing, his tweets or e-mails were intended for private communication, and even so the accompanying text with the images were of a nature decidedly less high-brow than the potentially lush spiritual metaphors of a gift bestowed from God. The argument remains, however, that for centuries even before written history (see inset of the erect bird-man from the Lascaux cave paintings circa 15,000 BCE), men and their phalluses have had the insatiable urge to demonstrate visual virility to an audience with or without our pre-approved consent.

Perhaps we should all just bite the bullet and, ahem, head-off (apologies) the inevitable sex scandals a la Weiner and Schwarzenegger by allowing powerful men to display at the forefront of their public persona their magnificent, proud arsenals in the way of King Henry VIII. On the other hand, I may just prefer to swallow that bullet instead.

Source: http://bigthink.com/ideas/38836

Monday, May 16, 2011

Iconography: Textual or Visual?

I'm reading a book on biblical literalism which reminded me of a question I thought up a few years ago. Which books, literally which versions of the Bible, were artists consulting when creating works of religious art?

This might as first seem like a trivial query since you would expect all Bibles to generally say the same thing, but historically that's not completely true. The Holy Book developed over several centuries and has been inadvertently and deliberate changed up until very modern times. (Thomas Jefferson in fact wrote his own version of the Bible in the early 19th century, radically removing all miracles from Jesus' history and privileging only his spiritual teachings.) Also, the text of the Bible can significantly affect art; Moses' horns in Michelangelo's famed
statue of the Old Testament father are a result of a translation error meant to describe rays of light emanating from Moses rather than actual horns coming out of his head. Nonetheless, the biblical text said horns and so began a recurrent art historical motif.

Dependence on biblical text (or lack thereof) can most easily be seen in early Christian art when iconographic stereotypes nor the Bible itself were completely established. Typical Christian stories hadn't yet emerged so the iconography is infinitely more difficult to read. In fact, scholars have already noted that early Christian art was more influenced by the visual culture of the Roman world rather than upon source material from any common book. In this case it's because the common book itself which could have provided more homogeneous iconographic programs was fragmented and not yet fully canonized.

But even in later eras, I wonder which sources artists referenced to guide their work. Each Bible, especially before the advent of the printing press, was a highly individual, unique object which had been copied (always with a handful of errors) by a monk or scribe. When do errors like these affect the art? And during the Reformation when the Protestants opted to toss out an entire section of the Old Testament (now referred to as the Apocrypha), how did that affect the imagery of religious Protestant art? Albrecht Durer was born and died as a Roman Catholic, though he has been suspected of sympathizing with Martin Luther. Close examination and research into his iconography as it relates to biblical texts, I think could shed some light on his personal preferences.

And then there's the last question which is equally significant and dismantling to this idea; how much have artists relied on Bibles versus simply looking at iconographic tradition for their motifs? Any six year-old today who's been to three days worth of Sunday school could probably draw a decent creation scene without checking the Bible first, so naturally the greatest artists in history could do the same. Textual significance of religious iconography actually opens up a larger question of what most significantly influences artistic development: literary source and critique or inspiration from visual data?


For more on biblical literalism (not related to art history), read A Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs.

Friday, May 13, 2011

History Falling to Ruins: Call for Conservation at Pompeii


When considering the ancient city of Pompeii, Italy, one of the first words people often associate with the culture and landscape is “preservation.” A basic understanding of the site tells us that nearly two thousand years ago, on 24 August 79 AD, the active volcano Mount Vesuvius erupted, covering the nearby cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum with mud, ash, lapilli, and poisonous gases. Though fatal to most of the inhabitants at the time, many of the artistic endeavors and cultural practices, as well as the layout of the city itself, were preserved due to the layers of volcanic discharge that engulfed the area in a short period of time. Despite these incredible historical happenstances, however, scholars today are forced to question whether this preservation can last the test of time now that much of the site has been uncovered. Past issues in financial support, lack of skilled conservationists, and no significant program for preservation have been detrimental to the conservation of this historically important site.

Need for greater conservation efforts at Pompeii has become more well known worldwide with the recent collapse of the House of the Gladiators (Schola Armaturarum Juventus Pompeiani) in November 2010 and the subsequent fall of a garden wall in the House of the Moralist a few weeks later. This travesty served as the break point for a long line of problems at the site, including improper and unpublished archaeological sites, inconsiderate tourists, insufficient cultural funding, and unsound past conservation attempts. Though these issues have persisted for some time, widespread knowledge of the need to take care of the Italian cultural heritage is vital. The government had previously focused primarily on marketing tourism of the site. While tourism is an important aspect of Italian commerce and the life of Pompeii, without proper conservation practices there will no longer be a site for the tourists to visit. It is already the case that many of the houses are closed to the public due to the unstable conditions of the structure. To solve this problem, it seems logical that the money acquired through tourism at the site should be filtered into conservation. This would allow for improved preservation of the site, which would bring in more tourism and then generate greater revenue.

Outside of the economics of the southern archaeological site itself, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi added to the financial troubles of the art and archaeology world when he cut nearly forty percent of the arts and culture budget (upwards of $398 million over the next three years) to the lowest it has ever been. With the collapse of the House of the Gladiators coming in the aftermath of this detrimental financial decision, along with questionable spending of state funds to support the careers of female actresses and dancers of personal relation to the Prime Minister, the Italian government and people have called Berlusconi’s negligence for preserving national heritage to attention. He has further revealed his misappropriation of taxpayers’ money with an approximately $95000 payment to have a statue restored for his office. Whether by replacing the fiscally irresponsible Prime Minister or by calling to question the ineptitude of the Culture Minister Sandro Bondi, it is clear that the Italian government, and accordingly Pompeii, desperately needs a representative who will place the conservation of the site and the preservation of historical and cultural heritage as a priority.

Major conservation efforts on the part of the government have not come into effect since additional funding was given to the site two years ago. Unfortunately, due to problems with the Superintendency or other workers on site at the time, the plan for conservation was poorly designed and executed. Moreover, the Superintendency is presently understaffed and lacks the skilled professionals – architects, engineers, technical specialists, and conservation specialists - needed to carry out conservation projects. Because of this, even if there were adequate funding for preserving the site, there would not be competent personnel to carry out the necessary tasks for conservation. Additionally, the staff that is available needs to be given the confidence and inspiration to carry out necessary action. Without willing attendants, improvements will never be made.


Notable archaeologist and former head of Superintendency Piero Guzzo brought new prospects of conservation to the southern archaeological sites when he approved external fiscal assistance from Dr. David Packard of Packard Humanities Institute for conserving the site of Herculaneum. Since 2001, the Herculaneum Conservation Project has addressed the infrastructure problems on the site by improving the roofing and water distribution after inclement weather. They have also conducted scientific studies to eliminate risks in preservation practices and have set up sustainable programs for future conservation. The program has been working alongside archaeologists to maintain excavation discoveries that have led to better understanding of the historical significance of the city. Progress at this site has laid the framework for the actions necessary for effective conservation at Pompeii.

Priority needs to be on improving the infrastructure of the ancient city as well as the structure supporting the fragile walls and floors still in existence. Providing a way to export water from the houses is important for preserving the mud-infused walls, paintings, frescoes, and tiled floors. The conservationists on the site have to focus their attention on smaller more manageable projects to ensure completion and sustainability. There needs to be a system of constant renovation and conservation to maintain the development of the site year round. Something as simple as unblocking a gutter or maintaining a systematic database for documenting past and future work will make a world of difference for an effective program.

Fortunately in recent years, the Herculaneum Conservation Project has shown the effectiveness of continuous preservation programs that take the needs of the site into consideration and utilize the knowledge of the people who work directly with the remains. Hopefully the future work on Pompeii will do the same and irrational decisions in light of the fallen walls will be limited. Utilizing the information and pride that comes from the custodi who serve as cultural security for the sites will be highly beneficial for any who strive to improve what is left of the incredible ancient city.

Pompeii annually receives around 2.5 million visitors. With this many spectators, one would hope those overseeing the site would be ashamed of its falling homes and deteriorating paintings. The site is one of Italy’s most extensive examples of ancient Roman culture and should be taken care of as such. With the major devastation that befell the city in the past year, however, more attention will hopefully be paid to reasonable conservation efforts. Though it will be a long process, the continuous maintenance of the site will serve to preserve a culture that has had a lasting influence on art and antiquity and has the potential to survive for another two thousand years if we care for it properly.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Art History's Most Eligible Bachelors: Antinous

New contender for Art History's most eligible bachelor: Antinous. Check out this new hottie in his guise as Apollo or an Egyptian pharoah, or sample his party side as he takes on the oenophilic role of Bacchus. Don't let his tendency to drown in the Nile fool you, he's got a Roman Emperor at his back and isn't afraid to smite you with his devilishly good looks and posthumously divinized power source from the world beyond. This curly coiffed beaut is every girl's, and male Roman Emperor's, dreamboat (just don't let him fall over the edge, cause he can't swim alone).



Publius Aelius Hadrianus, better known simply as Hadrian, ruled the Roman Empire from 117 to 138 AD. He was a highly intellectual and powerful ruler with both military prowess and an appreciation for the arts. In addition to his many achievements in the Roman world, Hadrian possessed a strong affinity for Greek culture, no doubt heightened by his amorous relationship with a young Greek named Antinous. While their relationship in both public and private was not questioned, Hadrian’s reaction to Antinous’ untimely death in the Nile in 130 AD caused a great deal of controversy. Antinous was granted many honors by his imperial companion, leading many Romans to either worship or reject the young man after his death. His portrait became a symbol widely recognized throughout the empire. The sculpture "Antinous in the guise of an Egyptian Pharaoh" serves as an archetype of the posthumous portraiture of the young Greek found throughout the Roman world and alludes to the social and political implications that were embedded in his image.

Speculation of how Antinous met his end has been highly controversial. Whether he died tragically, sacrificed himself in a ritualistic attempt to prolong Hadrian’s life, or committed suicide to prove his love for a man he had grown too old to continue a relationship with is not as important as recognizing the legacy established by the emperor’s means of mourning his death. Hadrian planned and named a city for his deceased lover. The place was to be called Antinoopolis, directly honoring the newly divinized figure. Because of this and Hadrian’s institution of a cult at Mantinea commemorating him, Antinous had an extensive life after death. Hadrian did not require the worship of his lost lover outside of these two established commemorations, but to gain favor with the ruling body, many members of the elite class commissioned temples and statues in honor of Antinous. His image was repeated throughout the entire empire, almost as widely distributed as the imperial portraiture of the ruler himself. Continuity in his representation suggests an artist appointed by Hadrian created an archetype for his portrait. His curly hair, muscular body, handsome face, and downcast eyes can be found across the Empire from Rome to Greece and all the way to Egypt.


At first glance the statue of "Antinous in the guise of an Egyptian Pharaoh" appears to be a standard Egyptian portrait in the round. True to Egyptian sculptural form, it shows the full, three-dimensional view of a semi-nude male body. The body is shown frontally with the head straight forward, arms held down to the sides, and one foot stepping in front of the other. He is wearing the traditional royal accoutrement of an Egyptian pharaoh. His head is adorned with the Nemes headdress that covers the forehead and crown of the head and hangs down over each shoulder. Not as elaborate as some of the examples of this garb found in ancient statuary, the Nemes here is decorated with a simple banded design as the headdress bows out in a triangular shape from the top of the head. Though the Nemes covers Antinous’ characteristically curly coif, we can compare his facial features to other depictions of the figure, such as "Antinous in the guise of Apollo" from Delphi, to identify him. Around his waist is the royal kilt, the Shendyt, which is a standard piece of clothing for the pharaohs. The flap of fabric that hangs in the center between the folds designates the garb as that of a pharaoh rather than a deity. These visual cues immediately bring to mind the iconic imagery of the Egyptian leaders.

Upon closer observation, however, it becomes obvious that this statue is not one of traditional Egyptian origin. This image lacks the stylized rigidity of the pharaohs of the ancient kingdoms. Placement of the left leg protruding forward is the same, but in this version, the leg is slightly bent, in a realistic example of weight shift, instead of impossibly straight making the leg awkward and unnaturally long as it was in pharaonic portraits. In response to the bent leg, the hips shift slightly, further emphasizing a naturalistic stance. This contrapposto is a prime example of Greek influence in the portrait, a nod to the subject’s national origins as well as Roman figurative style. Contrapposto weight shift in the hips and legs, though it typically involves the shoulders as well, is a Greek, and later Roman, motif most notably seen in Polykleito’s "Doryphoros" and carried throughout the subsequent span of classical statuary. His shoulders remain perfectly forward to maintain the Egyptian standard, but his arms bend slightly at the elbows to appear more natural and alive.

Unlike the highly stylized body shape of the Egyptian pharaohs, Antinous is depicted with a more naturalistic figural rendering. The individual musculature and fuller body features appear to be anatomically accurate except for a slightly bizarre display of the pectoral muscles. Free space separates his limbs and appendages from the core of his body, no longer needing to follow the Egyptian belief that the ka, or spirit, of a person would return to the statues in the afterlife requiring them to keep from breaking or losing fragments. To further ensure stability of the sculpture, Egyptians used much stronger material such as diorite rather than the marble found here that was typical of Roman statuary.

Antinous gathered a vast following with his separation from Hadrian that even outlasted many of the emperors before, during, and after his time. His portrait was distributed throughout the empire in a seemingly organized fashion reminiscent of the dissemination of imperial portraiture to the empires provinces and colonies. Representations of his image went beyond statuary to both works of art and banal objects of every day use. His godlike body and individualized, sensuous face made him an almost pagan-like deity worthy of consideration and praise in the public, in people’s homes, and even in history. This godly appearance, in accordance with his posthumous divination, however, left many of the Christian Romans unhappy with the spread of the Antinous cult. They saw the worship of his image as a sort of divine adversary to the worship of the spirit of Christ.

Hadrian did not care to acknowledge the controversies surrounding his commemorative efforts on behalf of Antinous and had his own set of statues made to appease his bereavement. "Antinous in the guise of an Egyptian Pharaoh" was one of dozens found at the emperor’s villa at Tivoli. Recent archaeology at the site has revealed that the emperor most likely had a shrine built to honor Antinous-Osiris, making this image of him not only important for our understanding of his many guises but also of our understanding of how Hadrian chose to remember one of the most important figures in his life.

Antinous, of Greek origins, also became a symbol for the Greek people’s personal identity while still celebrating their fidelity to Rome. He became a symbolic personification of the reunion of Greece and Rome, the Mediterranean world’s two classically principal cultures. This statue shows these aspects of the man, while also bringing in the importance of the Egyptian provinces for the Roman Empire at the time.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Review: "Dali's Classicism, Surrealism's Hijack"


Dr. Elliot King of the University of Essex, Colchester, England, left art students of Rhodes College in a surreal bliss of intellectual wonderment after his spectacular lecture “Dali’s Classicism, Surrealism’s Hijack” on Monday afternoon.

King commanded and integrated the room with his intellectual charm and wit behind his all too noticeable height and outstandingly vibrant spectacles. The art history scholar provided a unique perspective on the infamous Spanish painter Salvador Dali, proving quite effectively the lack of significant change between the artist’s self titled “Surreal” and “Classic” periods. Dali was once a member of the Surrealist group of the early twentieth century, led by Dadaist Andre Breton, but was rejected by his contemporaries due to inconsistencies in theoretical processes of the members.

Prior to King’s publications, the works of Dali’s “Classic” period were mostly disregarded by art scholars who found his association with the Surrealists much more interesting. This previously ignored phase, however, spanned the majority of Dali’s artistic career and was the setting for some of his most astonishing works. Though his most famous work is undoubtedly “Persistence of Memory” (also known as the melting clocks), from his Surrealist period, his work continued to reflect a Freudian inspired, three-dimensional, dreamlike quality until the end of his career. His later works increasingly incorporated religious and historical imagery and utilized double images for “surreal” effect.


Dali’s fantastical dreamscapes, however, were still shown through conventional methods of art composition, rather than the phallic, abstract approach preferred by the Surrealist group. In spite of his self-labeled classical style, Dali was recorded to have said that the only difference between him and the Surrealists was that he was a Surrealist. Whether by self-proclamation or actual development in his aesthetic processes, his move away from Surrealism is not obviously much of a progression. One could even claim that by separating himself from the Surrealist group and establishing his own form of dreamscape, Dali created his own branch of Surrealism, one that was better known and more greatly appreciated than the original.

Dali made surrealism a product for the world to cherish. He capitalized his paintings and style, taking the movement in his own direction away from the Bretonian Surrealist group that rejected him early in his career. Much like the Baroque split between the Carracci and the Caravaggesque painters, Dali split the surrealist movement and set his style as the standard for Surrealist imagery and theory at the time and in subsequent generations.

King’s vast knowledge of Dali raised new questions about how the artist viewed himself and his artwork, while also expanding the audiences understanding of the artist’s stylistic distinctions. Though he spoke of increasingly dense theoretical material, King’s presentation was as fun and interesting as the purple Venetian glasses that he sported, and Dali will hopefully be more appreciated in the future because his academic endeavors.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Art in the Digital World


“Just as water, gas, and electricity are brought into our houses from far off to satisfy our needs in response to a minimal effort, so we shall be supplied with visual or auditory images, which will appear and disappear at a simple movement of the hand, hardly more than a sign.”

This statement by Paul Valery, reused by Walter Benjamin in his essay “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” accurately predicted the significant growth of technological advancement in the arts throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. In the past few decades, we have seen the growing use of photography and digital media to spread once unique works of art throughout the world. But reproductions of artwork can only go so far.

“Even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where it happens to be. This unique existence of the work of art determined the history to which it was subject throughout the time of its existence. This includes the changes which it may have suffered in physical condition over the years as well as the various changes in its ownership.” As early as 1936, Benjamin already recognized the negative impact – mostly in the loss of the in situ specificity that qualifies genius in a single work – that mechanical reproduction would have on the art world.

Our society has become used to this overabundance of easily accessible art, however. Rather than take long pilgrimages to art galleries all over the world, we can purchase a postcard of da Vinci’s Last Supper or a poster of van Gogh’s Starry Night. Once a one of a kind splendor, Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon is reduced to the kitch world of a night-light.

Most recently, websites such as “Google Art Project” (http://www.googleartproject.com/) and “Arounder” (http://www.arounder.com/) have provided people with easy access sources for online interaction with works of art and the museums that house them. We are given 360 degree views of cathedrals, temples, and ancient landmarks without having to leave the comfort of our homes. These revolutionary websites give anyone and everyone the chance to observe notable art havens all over the world.


So what is the problem with this? The problem comes from trying to find a balance between preserving the ingenuity and integrity of high quality works of art in their original location while spreading knowledge and appreciation for the arts to people of all classes and backgrounds around the world. There is no way of determining which is right. Progression is inevitable, and the art world would have no place in contemporary society without keeping up with the times. We just have to find a way to keep people interested in the arts and make them continue to support the works themselves beyond the digital reproductions that lace our walls and computer screens.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

What is Pop Art?




Each of the Pop artists had a different definition of what they thought Pop Art was. There was an almost general consensus that it was all based on the rise of American consumerism and industrialism, but each utilized these developments in slightly varying ways to keep Pop from having a set standard of Aesthetic principles. Pop is understood to be an art that is to be readable by the masses, as opposed to the art work of the previous Abstract Expressionist and Surrealist movements that focused on art as a visual representation of theories posed by the artists.

Pop Art reintroduced the connection between art and the present world. “Everything is possible in Pop,” because according to Warhol, “Pop is everything.” It incorporates the mundane objects of everyday life and presents them in a glorified manner, but it does not bind the artist to a particular style or aesthetic quality. It allows the artist the freedom to produce images instantly, anywhere, and in mass quantity if he/she so wishes. The spontaneity of Pop, along with the use of iconic subject matter of the decade, therefore, gave it a sort of mortality that bound it to the time period in which it was created. Audiences today do not understand the artwork as immediately as those of the 1960s, much like audiences today do not read the symbolism of Medieval Christian art like the church-goers and readers of the Bible for the Illiterate did in the Middle Ages.

Does this mean that the artwork of the Pop Art movement will last throughout art history despite the artists’ initial intentions of creating a disposable work of art? Have art historians taken away one of the primary qualities of Pop art by immortalizing what was possibly supposed to be a mortal image?

Nefertiti and Marilyn Monroe: comparing past and present portraiture



Portrait Bust of Queen Nefertiti, Thutmose, 1345 BCE
Turquoise Marilyn, Andy Warhol, 1962 CE

While their styles (ancient portraiture vs Pop) and medium (stone vs silkscreen), not to mention culture and time period of production (Ancient Egyptian vs Modern American), are vastly different, there are many notable similarities between the portraits of the Egyptian Queen and the American Celebrity. The two pieces of artwork require the viewer to focus on a central image of the female’s face. A simple yet clearly defined color palette makes up each image, with darker more natural browns, red, green, and blue in the Nefertiti sculpture and reds, blue, yellow, and green in the Marilyn portrait.

Each utilizes a medium that is a product of its time. Nefertiti is a limestone sculpture, making it a unique image that only a single artist at a specific time could have created. This makes it slightly more difficult to reproduce than Warhol’s Marilyn, which was created using a silkscreen, a modern technique made possible through significant technological advancements of the early 20th century, that allows the art to be reproduced numerous times by anyone.

Both display only the portrait of the female’s head from the neck up, though one is frontal and three-dimensionally in the round while the other is two-dimensional and set at a three-quarter angle. Though begun in likeness of their subject each is highly stylized. Nefertiti’s over emphasized feminine features - larger, smiling lips, large eyelids, and shapely eyebrows along with make up and decorative coloration - makes her an ancient representation of the feminine ideal. Likewise, Marilyn is illustrated with simplified, smooth young skin that creates the illusion of youth as a lasting feature.

Both works of art are portraits of prominent women of their time. Each would have been known by almost everyone in their respective regions. The images set a standardization of appearance for depicting the queen and Marilyn that were used in many different representations and they set the bar for remembering them throughout history. Through this unique, representative rendering, each was established as an icon of her time. These artworks were set to immortalize the image of the figure as it is, and to this day when we are asked about either woman, these two images are among the first portrayals that come to mind.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

There's a Fight Going on in D.C.

Which isn't really a surprise, but this particular fight piqued my interest. Certain groups from all sides of the metaphorical fence including the Catholic League, the Republican party, representatives from the GLBT community, and leaders in the art world have been offended concerning a four minute surrealist video installation which had been showing in the current exhibition of the Smithsonian Institution's National Portrait Gallery until it was pulled due to controversy.

The exhibition, called "Hide/Seek: Difference and Desire in American Portraiture," is about the development of sexual difference in America and how artists have dealt with it during its changing status since "before difference" which the exhibit marks with Walt Whitman and Thomas Eakins in the 1880s. The controversy centers upon the aforementioned video piece by the late David Wojnarowicz which features an eleven second scene of ants crawling upon a toppled crucifix. The video itself is about Wojnarowicz's turmoil as he watched his partner die of AIDS, followed by Wojnarowicz's own death from the same disease. Evidently, about a month after the exhibition went up, cries of disapproval - sparked mostly by CNSnews - claimed that the video was anti-Christian and offensive after which the Smithsonian removed the piece from view. However, not knowing when to leave well-enough alone, Bill Donohue from the Catholic League decided to go one further and state that the Smithsonian doesn't deserve its federal funding since "I don't go to museums any more than any Americans do." Apparently he believes that since many Americans like him are too ignorant and lazy to seek cultural experiences, our government should be prevented from providing this service to anyone at all.

From there, the fight becomes significantly more complicated and petty (as D.C. politics tend to be) so I'll spare you the details. In essence, the Bill Donohue and his Catholic League are angry about the alleged anti-Christian sentiment, the Republicans (Boehner and friends) are bothered that the Smithsonian used federal funding for the project, the gay community is upset that they haven't been properly supported throughout the venture, and the art world is pissed that the Smithsonian gave in to censorship. In short, it's a mess. And aside from their initial move, the Smithsonian has tried to limit its further commentary on the entire fiasco.

But here's the deal, my opinion at least. Criticisms from the Catholic League, CNS, and the Republicans are just thinly veiled anti-homosexual bigotry. Attacking the use of battered Christian imagery or homo-erotic presentations in modern art is merely an uneducated and biased perspective on a ground-breaking exhibition. Both Christian imagery and homo-eroticism have been staples of Western art since Western art was born. Sure, there is a way to take it too far by exploiting either theme for the sake of shock value or mere mockery, but these images have a purpose and a message. The Republicans are just as bad if not worse by targeting the funds for this and all future projects, clearly looking for a way to get at those they marginalize without outright announcing their homophobia. It's pathetic, disgusting, and unfounded. The Smithsonian Institute needs not be named as an outstanding public organization which has served the public well and faithfully for more than 150 years. The gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender community which can be rightfully offended, as we all should be by this nation's persistent refusal to accept them, also needs to understand that sometimes small sacrifices are necessary for a greater good. This exhibit is important; it is new; it is pushing the envelope for recognizing homosexuality as a natural, significant part of life in America. The four minute video sparking religious controversy should not take away focus from the rest of the works, and it was perhaps best to let that argument go in favor of protecting the larger message of Hide/Seek. Lastly, the art community also has the right to be aggravated by censorship, but the safest move in the end is to pull together with the museum rather than threaten to cut external support. The arts go through enough trauma already from our detractors, and we won't stand up much longer if we start dissention within ourselves.


To put the still image in context with the video here's the link. You must be at least 18 or older to watch due to some graphic images and sexual content. This YouTube edit is slightly different than the museum cut most significantly in that it doesn't use the original audio.

ArtNews article reference (with more detail and many excellent embedded links)
NYTimes (focusing more on the gay rights issues at stake)

Friday, February 11, 2011

Grappling with Goya

Apologies. Apologies mostly to Lily since she has been the most interactive reader at this point and then to Amy who has waited patiently for something new by me so she can get on with whatever her next brilliant idea may be. Anyway, on to Goya...

I'm the first to admit that I've earned no expert authority as yet about art on the whole, but as an undergraduate student less than a year shy of completing my major coursework, it's fair enough to say that I at least know a lot about art. Within that, I of course know something more than the average person about Fransisco de Goya, the Spanish painter of the late 18th/early 19th century. However, there's something about him that has always bothered me. It might be more accurate to say that his art has always actually somewhat disturbed me. There's a vein of darkness that runs through his entire body of work that I find dramatically chilling.



Goya began his career as a member of the Spanish Royal Academy and made his name by painting in the courts of King Charles III and IV. Fiercely proud of his country and his heritage, Goya established himself squarely within Spanish artistic tradition following his most famous precursor, Diego Velazquez. Visually speaking, this meant that Goya had a painterly (i.e. loose) style and sought some degree of realism in everything he did. What was different from Velazquez, however, was how far Goya insisted upon taking this idea of non-idealized realism, transforming reverent art into a dose of harsh reality. Even when it came to paintings of the king himself and his family, Goya described them visually with every possible failing - King Charles IV with his cock-eyed physiognomy, some families members with their faces turned away from the onlooker, and my personal favorite, an elderly female relative who looks absolutely batty and has a large black pockmark on her face (a symptom of syphilis). He obviously had an antagonistic relationship with his government, but was somehow clever enough to keep his royally patronized job long enough to satisfy his career.

Goya reveals much deeper and darker revelations in his series of etchings collectively known as the Disasters of War. Responding to the violence he saw during Napoleon's invasion, the Disasters are poignantly stark representations of the most base human conditions. They reduce people to animals and murderous villains as traumatic treatises on corruption and ignorance. The fact that he produced these etchings as a private endeavor reveals that this twisted pet project of Goya's was something of a personal fascination for him.

At the end of his life, Goya painted even more personal and even more disturbing images on the walls of his own home, collectively known as his Black Paintings. Having lost his hearing earlier in life, it seems that Goya finally succumbed to some sort of madness in his old age. The stand out from these works is undoubtedly Saturn Devouring his Own Children (see image) which Goya painted in his dining room of all places. My thesis here, after this extended introduction to the highlights of Goya's work, is that this brooding, tormented style indicates Goya's internal turmoil that likely affected him for his whole life. I believe his paintings are essentially symptoms of a serious psychological disturbance. I think that's why he's always bothered me - because when I look at his paintings, I have the suspicion that I'm very close to a madman. In fact, several of his works that I haven't mentioned deal with insanity or asylums. Perhaps Goya always begrudgingly knew that he belonged with those figures he so frequently painted. He is valued by many as a sort of proto-Romantic, focusing on the inspiration of genius within the artist himself rather than an institutional emphasis on theory and rules. And this is true of the artist, but I posit here that Goya was not merely inspired by his genius, but forcibly driven by it to the extremes of an underlying psychosis.

Thanks to David McCarthy for insight and ArtStor.org for all image credits.

Is this really a da Vinci?

We seem to be on an attribution kick lately. I was perusing my old ArtNews magazines to kill time yesterday and came across the January 2010 issue featuring a debate about the artistic attribution of a portrait of a woman. The painting, known as La Bella Principessa, was thought to have been painted by a German artist in the early 19th century and was sold at auction for a little over $20,000. Recent scholars debate its German roots, however. With no documented provenance, it is easy to fantasize stories about the painting’s origins. The most notorious of the claims concerning this piece is its ties to the Renaissance master Leonardo da Vinci.


So is it by da Vinci? I don’t pretend to be an expert by any means, but I don’t think so. As before with the Pollock issue, I’d have to see the painting in person before making final judgments. The painting just doesn’t seem right as a da Vinci though. He rarely painted figures in profile (minor figures in the Last Supper and Madonna of the Rocks seem to be the exception). The three-dimensionality that was such a prominent component of da Vinci’s work, through strong contrasts of highlighting and shading from the use of chiaroscuro, is more subtly applied here. Under the chin and the nape of her neck display a sense of rounding, but the bust and shoulder are uncharacteristically flat. She does not stand out against the solid background, a feature often replaced by a hazy landscape in his portraits, to give a sense of depth and at the same time is not blended into her surroundings as da Vinci’s sfumato, meaning smoky, painting technique would have given the appearance of. The color scheme of the painting is too bland for da Vinci’s palette. There is little contrast between coloration in the clothing, skin, and hair, and strong highlighting in the face especially is missing from the portrait.

Italian or German? Worth thousands or millions? Dunno…but I don’t like it. Evidence seems to point more against than towards the notion that it was an original by the famous master. Finding an answer to the question of its origins could make or cost $150 million to the owner, but I think knowing whether or not a painting by THE Leonardo da Vinci has been parading around for hundreds of years as a German portrait is much more enticing.

Pollock?!


As Amy A. so eloquently illustrated in her discussion of the so-called "Kimbell Michelangelo," issues of artistic attribution and authenticity are constantly a source of contention in the art world. Amy and I recently sat down to watch the documentary "Who the *$&% (fuck) is Pollock?" about a small-town truck driver, Teri Horton, who purchased a painting at a thrift store for $5 that turned out to possibly be an original Jackson Pollock worth $50 million dollars. Quite the investment.

When attempting to sell the painting (which she essentially thought a piece of crap), a local art teacher approached her with the idea that it might be by the illustrious Ab-Ex painter Jackson Pollock. Her response? "Who the fuck is Pollock?" Our response? Do these romanticized stories of discovering lost paintings in junk shops actually hold any merit?

Horton's ignorance of modern art aside, the discovery of this painting led to a scholarly debate that lasted over ten years. Though connoisseurs tend to shy away from validating the piece as an original by the artist, forensic studies on the paint consistency (comparing the acrylic composition of the paints used between that on the canvas and the remains on Pollock's studio floor) and fingerprints (found on the back of the painting and judged against those found on known Pollocks) point to the authenticity of the work. Art nerds that we are, Amy and I, with our good friend Katie, kept an ongoing debate throughout the movie, resulting in a somewhat solidified belief that the painting was an original but was completed at a later time in his life after the bulk of his compositions. Among other reasons, our theory stems from the forensic findings, the presence of acrylic in his paint (a medium that was not frequently utilized in modern art until years after the artist's death) and his wife's dementia at old age that could possibly have led to the loss of a smaller piece in his body of work. This is only a working theory, however. I'd love to see the painting in person to form my own opinions. Art speaks to you if you take the time to listen, and this piece could have a lot to say.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Turmoil in Egypt has left many ancient artifacts in ruin


Hello friends! Again, welcome to our blog! I am very happy to say that my first post has nothing to do with Texas, but it is, unfortunately, addressing a somewhat less than happy topic.

If you have been keeping up with the news lately, you will undoubtedly have run across mention of the political turmoil that has arisen in Egypt in the past week. Reflecting the animosity in Tunisia a few weeks ago, dissention towards the governing Mubarak regime has spread among Egyptians calling for a more democratic rule. Over two million citizens are standing together, though in a rather unorganized fashion, to take a stand against the political, and subsequent economic, travesty pervasive in the country.

What does this have to do with art? Riots in the streets of major metropolises left major museums and archaeological sites unguarded from looting and vandalism. The Egyptian Museum in Cairo experienced its first attack on Friday in which looters damaged many artifacts. This raid included the defacement of statues from King Tutankhamen’s tomb and the decapitation of two royal mummies, the results of which can be seen in the first picture. More reports of pillaging have sprung up since then from various sites across the country, from Alexandria to Saqqara. Many Egyptians astoundingly stepped up to stop this problem while they waited for patrols to take over guard. In Cairo, everyday citizens even went so far as linking arms in front of the Egyptian Museum to keep intruders out.



Though explanations for the looting and vandalism are still speculative at this stage, many arguments can be made for why priceless historical artifacts have been damaged and removed from their resting places. Economic strife has become a grave issue for the common Egyptian, some being forced to skip meals or steal to feed their children. With many gilded statues unguarded, the prospect of stealing a gold statue to pay for food may have easily come to mind.
Some have also wondered if the Mubarak regime may have paid looters to cause damage to the museum to make the rioters look bad, though no proof for this claim has surfaced yet. A less sexy, but still highly probable explanation could be that some people just simply wanted to take advantage of an opportunity to be destructive.

Reasons aside, an unknown number of irreplaceable artifacts have been damaged and stolen from the leading sources of Egyptian historical preservation. Only time will tell how much damage has been done to the future of Egyptian archaeology, but as the instability settles, we can only hope that the harm is less than we fear. The following site has and will be tracking the results of these events, and I strongly encourage everyone to keep up with the happenings and results of this tumultuous time.
http://egyptopaedia.com/2011/

Looting is by no means a new problem in the world of art and archaeology. Museums and uncovered archaeological sites have suffered from theft for hundreds of years, and scholars are constantly debating the issue of art ownership in cases such as those of the Elgin Marbles in the British Museum (taken from the Greek acropolis in the late 18th century) or the Mona Lisa in the Louvre (stolen in 1911 from the French museum by an Italian who believed it should reside in the homeland of Leonardo da Vinci, its painter). We can’t hope to settle this debate in our lifetime, nor can we assume that destruction of wars, economic downturns cutting funding for the arts, or political upheavals will cease to deter the devastation of historical remains. We can, however, do our part to empathize the importance of these artifacts for our understanding of past cultures and their authority on successive generations of artistry and communicative prowess.

The following video shows some of the damage from the pillaging in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTOf0x-eGU0

Thanks to: Francesca Tronchin, National Geographic, and the Wall Street Journal