Wednesday, December 30th, 2009
I’m preparing a lecture on the Impressionists, and I’ve been completely distracted by Monet’s Déjeuner sur L’Herbe (“Luncheon on the Grass”). Yes – that’s not a typo. I meant to write “Monet,” not “Manet.”
Maybe you’re saying “What?” just like I did fifteen minutes ago. Don’t get too bewildered: Manet DID a very seminal painting that is called Le Déjeuner sur L’Herbe (1863). And Manet’s painting is infinitely more well-known than Monet’s early work with the same title. But allow me to bring Monet’s painting out of obscurity:
Monet,
Le Déjeuner Sur L’Herbe, 1865-66
It’s interesting to see a painting by Monet that includes human figures. (You can see a figure study for this painting
here.) I’m so used to seeing Monet paintings with haystacks and Rouen Cathedrals and water lilies and train stations – it’s so nice to see something different. You also might have noticed that this painting was made just about two years after Manet completed his painting with the same title. A coincidence? Definitely not. There’s no question that Monet was influenced by Manet.
Other painters were also influenced by Manet’s 1863 painting. Cezanne did his own picnicking painting with the same title, and Picasso did several versions that were directly inspired by Manet. In fact, the Musee d’Orsay did an exhibition (which ended in February 2009) that revolved around Picasso’s variations of Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur L’Herbe. Here’s one Picasso example:
Picasso, Le Déjeuner sur L’Herbe after Manet, 27 February 1960So, what do you think? Did you know that Monet painted a Déjeuner sur L’Herbe? (I really hope that I’m not the only one who was unaware of that fact.) Which version of the subject matter do you like the best?
Monday, December 21st, 2009
Although my mom was never really into art (she said that nude figures made her “embarrassed”), there are a couple of 19th century artists and artistic movements that she liked. It was my mom who first introduced me to the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood when I was in high school (or perhaps a freshman in college?). She excitedly pulled me aside, held out a reproduction of The Awakening Conscience (1853, see left) and asked, “Have you heard of the artist William Holman Hunt?”
Mom liked Hunt’s art because it was highly religious and moralistic. She liked
The Awakening Conscience because it explored the theme of redemption. This painting depicts a prostitute or mistress who is sitting on the lap of her lover. They are playing the piano together, and it appears the lyrics of the song have pricked the conscience of the young woman. The painting captures this woman’s precise moment of enlightenment and realization. I especially like looking at her expression and knowing that she is staring out an open window (which you can see reflected behind her in a mirror).
There are many moralizing references that are included in the painting. Here is a list of some objects which give clues to the story and moralistic tone of the painting:
– Music on the piano: “Oft in the Stilly Night” is a nostalgic song in which a the singer reflects upon childhood innocence and missed opportunities. (On a side note, this song is mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce – you can listen to the song by going here.)
– Music on the floor: “Tears, Idle Tears” is Edward Lear’s musical adaption of Tennyson’s poem. The sad poem seems to express sorrow over the woman’s predicament. (You can read the poem here).
– Rings: The woman wears rings on all of her fingers except her “wedding finger.”
– Hat and glove: The clothing objects are hastily cast aside, which indicates an abandonment of decorum. Because the hat is placed on the table, it shows that this man is a visitor and not a permanent resident in the house.
– Unraveled threads: A reference to the woman’s wasted life.
– Cat and bird: The cat is chasing a small bird underneath the table. This vignette is a reference to the woman’s predicament (the man = the cat, the woman = the bird).
– Light on the floor: Suggests enlightenment and potential redemption for the woman.
I especially like the inclusion of the cat and bird. Is there any specific object that you like?
The Awakening Conscience will forever remind me of my mother. Did a friend or relative ever introduce you to a work of art? Do you remember the experience?
Thursday, November 19th, 2009
Last night I watched a live webcast of Linda Nochlin’s lecture at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. Nochlin is one of the forefront feminist art historians today (she practically created feminist studies in art history with this article). She has influenced a lot of my thinking in regards to feminism and postcolonialism, and I was really excited to hear her speak. Nochlin spoke about female American artists, ranging from Mary Cassatt to the contemporary period. (On a side note, don’t you think it’s interesting how both the Americans and French want claim the ex-pat Cassatt as belonging to their country/art movements? Is she a French Impressionist or an American Impressionist?)
There were two things in Nochlin’s lecture that I thought were especially interesting. I liked how Nochlin compared Mary Cassatt to the compositional devices in Little Girl in a Blue Armchair (c. 1878, shown above on right). Nochlin pointed out that Cassatt was extremely aware of childhood and its discontents, as is evidenced in the painting and subject matter. The little girl is slumped in her chair – it’s obvious that she is annoyed with the convention of portraiture and having to sit still (for a long time!) while her portrait is painted. The girl’s resistant attitude is emphasized by her angular body within the composition: there’s an interesting contrast between the angular body of the girl and the soft, circular body of the dog.
Nochlin paralleled this painting to the discontent that Cassatt felt in her own life. Like this little girl, Cassatt was also resistant to convention and tradition. As a suffragist and avant-garde artist, Cassatt defied the standards that were upheld by 19th century society. Cassatt’s disregard for the tradition of painting is even emphasized in the unconventional perspective of Little Girl in a Blue Armchair; the viewpoint has been lowered so that the scene is viewed from the perspective of a child, not that of an adult.
Nochlin also made a passing comment that I thought was interesting. She was discussing Dorothea Lange’s Migrant Mother (1936, shown on right) and mentioned that she liked that the photograph was black and white. Nochlin feels like there is a true feeling of “documentation” when a photograph is black and white – there is a refusal of the decorative, emotional quality that comes with color. In terms of facts and documentation, the idea of “black and white” is extended to the newspaper and media paradigm, since people say “I read it in black and white.” Interesting, huh?
Did anyone else have a chance to hear Nochlin’s lecture? What do you think of the two ideas I mentioned?
Friday, October 30th, 2009
Halloween is here and I can’t help but think of all the creepy, spooky art that exists. I think some of the creepiest art belongs to Goya’s “Black Paintings” series (1820-1823). These fourteen paintings were created during the period that Goya was recuperating from yellow fever. Some have interpreted these works as Goya’s response to constitutional freedom, but I think (along with many other art historians) there must have been a lot more personal, psychological motivations that inspired Goya’s work.1
Goya created the “Black Paintings” on the walls of his home, Quinta del Sordo (you can see a virtual tour here). Later, the paintings were transferred to canvas in the 1870s. The most famous painting in this series is Saturn Devouring His Children (shown above to the right). This painting refers to the classical story of Saturn, the king of the gods, who feared an prophecy which said that one of his children would overthrow him. In order to stop this from happening, Saturn ate each child upon birth (although you will notice that Saturn is eating an adult body in this painting). (You can read more of the mythological story here). With grim sarcasm, Goya painted Saturn Eating His Children on his dining room wall. Doesn’t it whet your appetite?
Another creepy work from the “Black Paintings” series is Witches Sabbath (The Great He-Goat) (shown left). This painting shows a group of witches who have convened with the devil, who has assumed the form of a goat. Goya was obviously drawn to this subject matter, since he created a more light-hearted version of this subject earlier in 1789 (see here). I think the “Black Paintings” version is infinitely more spooky and ominous. I identify most with the figure of the little girl on the right, who seems resistant and apart from the frightening crowd.
The earlier 1789 version of Witches Sabbath was one of six paintings of witches and devils. Goya created these six paintings for the Duke and Duchess of Osuna. If the “Black Paintings” don’t convince you that Goya was interested in creepy subject matter, maybe two of these Osuna paintings will:
The Bewitched Man, c. 1798
(More information
here)
Witches in the Air, 1797-98
I think this painting is freaky. (More information here)
Still not convinced that Goya liked creepy art? Then check out some of the lithographs from his
Los Caprichos series, which he created around the same time as the paintings for the Duke and Duchess of Osuna. You can see a few
here. Another one in the series,
“There is a lot to Suck” (Capricho 45), depicts a greedy witch with her mouth wide open. The witches are catching babies in a basket, in order to drink their blood. This superstition might be connected to abortion, since women who assisted with abortion were labeled as witches.
2
Are you spooked? Which work by Goya do you think is the creepiest?
Happy Halloween!
1 Priscilla E. Muller, “Goya, Francisco de“, in Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online, http://www.oxfordartonline.com.erl.lib.byu.edu/subscriber/article/grove/art/T033882, accessed 30 October 2009.
2 Rose-Marie Hagen and Rainer Hagen, Francisco Goya: 1746-1828 (London: Taschen, 2003), 36. Available online here.
Friday, October 16th, 2009
It took me forever to find a copy of Walter B. Denny’s article, “Orientalism in European Art,” but I’m glad that I finally got one (Dr. Denny was kind enough to mail me a copy). I plan on using this article as an introduction to Orientalism (i.e. European depictions of Middle Eastern/Far Eastern imagery). This article is great because it explains the concept of Orientalism in art but it really doesn’t delve into any theory. How perf for an intro class!
My favorite part of this article was actually in a footnote. Denny pointed out various anachronistic and inappropriate Oriental objects in Ingres’ painting, Odalisque with Slave (1839-40). For example, the slave’s headwear is 18th century Ottoman, but her pantaloons are Indian in design. Furthermore, the architectural background is Cairene and the drapes are European velvet. Denny also notes that the taj helmet on the left is also out-of-place.1
What a pastiche of Oriental elements! Obviously, Ingres was trying to depict the Orient with some degree of authenticity, but he wasn’t too concerned about historical, geographic or cultural accuracy.
1 Walter B. Denny, “Orientalism in Art,” The Muslim World 3-4 (1983): 267.
*I decided to count my reading of this article for a category in Heidenkind’s Art History Challenge.
