Alberti’s Window

One of the most famous stories surrounding Van Gogh is that the artist cut off his own ear in December of 1888, shortly after a violent argument with his friend and fellow artist Paul Gauguin. Reportedly, Van Gogh then gave the ear to a local prostitute, a woman named Rachel. Due to the popularity of this story, I think that Self Portrait with Bandaged Ear (c. 1889, shown left) is one of the painter’s best-known self portraits.

An interesting (and rather incredulous, in my opinion) theory came out earlier this year about Van Gogh’s ear cutting. You may have caught wind of this new theory – in May it was picked up by all different newspapers and sites. Hans Kaufmann and Rita Wildegans’ new book, In Van Gogh’s Ear: Paul Gauguin and the Pact of Silence argues that Van Gogh did not cut off his own ear, but rather Gauguin was the culprit. Kaufmann and Wildegans believe that Van Gogh and Gauguin were fighting about Rachel (the prostitute). According to this theory, the men agreed to invent the story of self-mutilation so that Gauguin would not get in trouble with the authorities. Gauguin eventually moved to Tahiti and Van Gogh committed suicide in 1890. You can read more about this new theory in these articles by the Daily Mail and BBC News.

Personally, I have a hard time accepting everything put forth by Kauffman and Wildegans. I kind of like the idea that Rachel was the source of the argument, especially since we know that Van Gogh gave Rachel the infamous ear afterwards. However, I’m not sure that Gauguin would have been the one to slice Van Gogh. I agree with what Jonathan Jones wrote to attack this theory. After Gauguin left, he wrote Van Gogh and asked for the Sunflowers painting a parting memorial gift. I don’t think Gauguin would have had the gall to ask for a momento if he had recently cut off his friend’s ear. That doesn’t make sense to me.

What do you think about this theory?

This post introduced me to this interesting article in Nineteenth-Century Art Worldwide on Manet’s Olympia (1863, shown left). Phylis A. Floyd examines why Manet was so upset at the critical reception of his painting in the Salon of 1865. Floyd believes that Manet would not have been upset if he had intended this painting to be controversial (a belief widely held by modern art historians).

Floyd posits some interesting ideas about why Manet was upset. Instead of the popular belief that Manet was portraying a prositute (who brazenly and defiantly stares at the viewer of the painting), Floyd thinks that Olympia is a depiction of a mistress. She points out some interesting details like Olympia’s bracelet (which may be a gift from her lover) and flower (which she identifies as a camellia – a flower associated with a woman who is faithful to a single lover). In addition, Floyd mentions that Olympia was originally posed in a more modest position (see a red chalk Study for Olympia below). If Olympia was originally intended to be in a more modest position, it seems to me that Manet did not intend his painting to be so brazen and confrontational (at least when the painting was in its early, conceptual stages).

In addition, Floyd argues that the physiognomy and body type of Olympia were intended to portray Marguerite Bellanger, the mistress of Napoleon III at the time. According to Floyd, Manet was trying to gain favor with the emperor by painting a portrait of his mistress. Although it is known that Victorine Meurent posed for Olympia, Floyd points out that the facial features are blank in the study, which Floyd thinks is an indication that Manet intended to paint the facial details of Bellanger from a photograph.

I think that Floyd has some really interesting ideas. However, I’m not sure if I would base so much of my argument on the assumption that the flower is actually a camellia (which ties into the connection with Bellanger, whose relationship with Napoleon III made her “the most famous camélia of the day.”).¹ Is there really enough detail in the painting for one to correctly identify the flower? It doesn’t seem like it to me. Overall, though, I think that Floyd brings up some interesting questions. They’ve made me rethink and question some of the popular interpretations of this painting.

1 Phylis A. Floyd, “The Puzzle of Olympia,” Nineteenth-Century Art Worldwide 3, vol. 1 (Spring 2004); available from http://www.19thc-artworldwide.org/spring_04/articles/floy.shtml; Internet; accessed 16 July 2009. See also [Léopold Stapleaux ?], Les courtisanes du Second Empire, (Bruxelles: Office de Publicité, 1871), 56.

It’s fun to find out that a famous musician/writer/playwright/poet/actor also liked to create visual art. It makes sense that creative minds like to have more than one artistic outlet. My friend Miss B just pointed out that the writer Hans Christian Andersen was also an artist – he made paper cuts (one example, Bouquet (n.d.) is shown on the left). They’re quite fun. You can see more examples of Andersen’s paper cuts on Miss B’s post, and you can also see the Royal Library’s extensive collection here.

I knew that Andersen had a lot of diverse interests, but I didn’t know that he dabbled with the visual arts. Apparently, Andersen was a very popular paper cutter. He would make these cuts to amuse friends and their children. Andersen would work on a paper cut when storytelling,and then end the tale by opening up the paper cut and showing the final product to his audience.¹

I really like the Odense City Museums’ interpretation of Andersen’s fascination with paper: “To Hans Christian Andersen paper was not meant to be media for the written word only. Paper – it seems – represented the basis for his imaginative expressing. Through out his life Hans Christian Andersen was an addict to paper. He wrote on it, he drew on it – and he used it to cut in.”²

Now I’m interested in learning more what Andersen’s writing and editing style was like. Would he constantly edit and deconstruct the papers that he filled with words, just like he frequently cut away bits of paper to make visual art?
1 Odense City Museums, “Papercuts by Hans Christian Andersen”; available from http://museum.odense.dk/andersen/klip/billedstart.asp?sprog=engelsk; Internet, accessed 1 July 2009.

2 Ibid.

I am in the middle of reading John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. I know the plot of this book quite well, having read the children’s version Dangerous Journey and watched its accompanying film a bigillion times. But, being a historian and purist, I wanted to read the original book (first published in 1687).

Although I know the story well, I didn’t know that William Blake created illustrations of this famous allegory. It doesn’t surprise me that Blake would be interested in The Pilgrim’s Progress; as a nonconformist artist that was interested in mythical and prophetic subject matter, this story is right up his alley.

Blake began this The Pilgrim’s Progress series in 1824, but it was never finished (I assume because Blake died in 1827). The completed illustrations weren’t put into a book until 1941 by the Limited Editions Club, over 100 years after Blake died.

I haven’t been able to find a lot of information or discussion about this series in art history databases. I also haven’t been able to find a lot of images of the series. Perhaps this series has been ignored because it is incomplete?

I’m curious to see what the other illustrations look like. I might have to buy this 1942 edition (Heritage Press) off of eBay, which includes twelve of the watercolor illustrations by Blake. But I’m a little skeptical as to why this book is only for sale for $29. Doesn’t that seem a little low for an old book with watercolors by William Blake?