Art is the Solution

Julie Le Brun Looking in a Mirror Source: MET Museum Yesterday, we discussed the portrait of a young child, Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuñiga. Portraits of children are common in the history of Western art, but they vary significantly based on time and place. Today, I want to introduce another child portrait, Julie Le Brun Looking in a Mirror . This image, which was painted by the child’s mother—a court artist who was famous for her portraits of Marie Antoinette—dates from around the same time as Goya’s painting of Manuel. However, it is very different in style. The artist, Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, resided in France, a nation that was far more progressive than Goya’s Spain in terms of political and social ideas. The Enlightenment—a progressive movement that began in France—began to reimagine childhood in the eighteenth century. Gradually, an understanding developed that childhood was a distinct part of life and that children had unique developmental and emotional needs, as op

Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuñiga Source: MET Museum Today, I want to take a minute to chat about one of the paintings that was mentioned in the documentary I mentioned yesterday: Metropolitan Cats . The painting, Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuñiga , is one of the treasures of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (the MET). The painting depicts a young boy, the son of the Count and Countess of Altamira. He is pictured with three cats and several birds, some latched in a cage and one on a tether that the child holds. Metropolitan Cats interprets the painting as a commentary on captivity. The caged and tethered birds reflect the child’s lack of freedom, while the cats represent the threats he faces in his life. Alternatively, viewers can interpret the cats as a symbol of the child’s future aristocratic power, while the birds can be seen as potential victims of his tyranny. It’s worthwhile to note that Goya, a staunch supporter of the Enlightenment, was chronically skeptical of authority

The Favorite Cat Source: The MET The MET (The Metropolitan Museum of Art) recently posted a documentary called Metropolitan Cats on their YouTube channel . As the title suggests, the video celebrates the cats within the MET’s collection, from ancient sculptures to modern paintings. I was immediately drawn to the video because—as many people know—I adore cats (I have one myself, and I would love someone to paint a picture of her). I watched the documentary and found it to be both interesting and entertaining. Metropolitan Cats documents the relationship between cats and humans as it is represented in art. It argues that cats have functioned as important symbols throughout history and that their feline grace and inscrutability has captured the human imagination. I don’t want to reiterate everything that was said in the documentary; if you want to see it, you can watch it here . However, I wanted to chime in on the significance of cats in art. As Metropolitan Cats points out, c

La Virgen del Café Source: Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico Today, I want to skip forward a hundred years or so to talk about a more modern piece of art: La Virgen del Café , a painting by Puerto Rican artist Marta Pérez. I saw this painting recently at the Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico, and I found it to be very charming, so I want to take a few minutes to talk about it today. La Virgen del Café translates to the Madonna of Coffee . Depictions of the Virgin Mary are quite common in the history of Latin American art, and religious painting in particular is a cornerstone of Puerto Rican art; however, Pérez’s work puts a new perspective on this legacy. As the Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico explains, “Exuberant colors, an agglomeration of elements, and female figures with mythical and angelic appearances are characteristic of her work.” As the Museum’s description suggests, La Virgen del Café represents a reimagining of Puerto Rico’s legacy of religious painting. The painting contrasts sta

The Lady of Shalott Source: Tate Museum Yesterday, I mentioned a painting by John William Waterhouse. However, I didn’t get a chance to really discuss his work in detail. So, today, I want to take a few moments to chat about his most famous painting: The Lady of Shalott . If you’ve ever studied nineteenth century art or literature in the Western world, chances are you’ve seen this painting. It is incredibly famous and almost synonymous with the term pre-Raphaelite. So, why is this painting so well known? First of all, it is incredibly beautiful. Although Waterhouse’s work isn’t for everyone, no one can deny that he was a highly gifted artist. The technical proficiency displayed in this piece, coupled with the carefully balanced compositions, is truly remarkable. However, I think it is the subject matter that is more appealing to viewers. If you want a complete description of the story behind the painting, I suggest you read the Tate Museum’s description . However, for the purposes

Hylas and the Nymphs Source: Wikipedia Today, I want to mix up the format of this blog a little bit. Instead of talking about a particular painting, I want to tackle a question that is becoming increasingly relevant among art historians: what should we do with controversial art? I started to think about this question after I read this article , which describes the controversy that ensued after an art museum in Manchester, England decided to take down a Pre-Raphaelite painting to make a statement about the way women are represented in the piece. I recommend you read the article for a more detailed description of why they decided to do this because I’m not going to go into all the nuances now. However, I will say that I was more than a little outraged when I read that they had taken it down (although it is back up again, and this did happen a while ago). The painting in question is Hylas and the Nymphs , which depicts a story from Greek mythology in which the nymphs lure Hylas—the

The Martyrdom of Saint Serapion Source: Wikipedia Yesterday, we looked at Francisco de Zurbarán’s astonishing painting The Apparition of Saint Peter to Saint Peter Nolasco . Today, I want to continue our conversation about Zurbarán’s work with one of his masterpieces The Martyrdom of Saint Serapion . As the title suggests, the painting depicts the death of Serapion, a thirteenth century saint. Like Zurbarán’s other paintings, The Martyrdom of Saint Serapion is baroque in style. The piece is visually dramatic, making use of light and shadow to emphasis the lifelessness of the saint’s body. Compositionally, the piece offers a very narrow view of the scene—focusing on the saint’s face and torso—adding a degree of intensity to the painting. Despite this, it is clear that Zurbarán utilized elements of the Renaissance style in this painting. Instead of depicting the trauma of a violent death, Zurbarán’s Serapion is calm and dignified, borrowing an aura of Renaissance serenity. The tilt

The Apparition of Saint Peter to Saint Peter Nolasco Source: Museo del Prado Baroque art is known for its drama and intensity, but few artists of the period managed to achieve infuse their work with more energy and spontaneity than Spanish painter Francisco de Zurbarán. In my opinion, there is no better example of this trait than his 1629 painting The Apparition of Saint Peter to Saint Peter Nolasco . As the title suggests, the painting depicts one of Nolasco’s visions, during which Saint Peter—who was traditionally thought to have been crucified upside down—appeared to him. The piece captures an extraordinary moment of spiritual exultation, using dramatic lighting and sweeping lines to inspire profound emotion in viewers. Baroque art often sought to spark an emotional response from viewers, usually with the goal of creating an altered or contemplative state of mind. In this, Zurbarán certainly succeeded. In describing the painting, the Museo del Prado notes: “Zurbarán manages to

Vision After the Sermon Source: National Galleries Scotland It’s been a while since I’ve talked about a painting by Paul Gauguin (a terrible person, yet a wonderful artist), so today I want to touch on one of his earlier pieces: Vision After the Sermon . As I noted, Vision After the Sermon was one Gauguin’s earlier works, completed before he left France for Tahiti. Although his most famous pieces were based on his experiences in the Pacific, Gauguin established the basis of his artistic ethos in France. Vision After the Sermon depicts a group of Breton women, looking on with prayerful expressions as an angel wrestles a man under a tree. The painting references the biblical story of Jacob wrestling an angel. As art historian Zuzanna Stanska explains , the piece suggests, “that the faith of these pious women enabled them to see miraculous events of the past.” Gauguin himself explained: “For me, the landscape and wrestling match in this picture exist only in the minds of the peopl

La Paresse Source: Museum of Modern Art Over the past few days, I’ve touched on some heavy topics in art, so today I want to talk about a piece of art that tickles me: Laziness ( La Paresse ) by Félix Vallotton. I first encountered this woodcut while scrolling through the Instagram account of one of the museums I follow (unfortunately I can’t remember which one) and found it very amusing. After doing some research, I’ve learned that Vallotton is well known for his woodcuts (like Laziness ) as well as his realistic yet unemotional style. This approach creates a sense of tension in his work, although it’s not really present in the piece we’re discussing today. As the title suggests, Laziness depicts the essence of indolence (as imagined by the artist). A nude woman lies languorously on a bed, reaching out a hand to a cat who is in the act of jumping onto the bed. Cats are stereotypically considered to be lazy animals (although, as a person, who lives with two cats, I have to say th

An Egyptian Peasant Woman and Her Child Source: The MET Yesterday, I began a conversation about colonialism in art in my discussion of José Campeche’s work. I want to continue that today with Léon Bonnat’s painting An Egyptian Peasant Woman and Her Child . I saw this painting years ago at the MET, and was immediately drawn to it. At the time I thought it was a wonderful painting, but after some time for consideration, I also found it to be somewhat problematic. Before I explain why the painting was troubling to me, I need to give you some background information. Bonnat was a member of the Romantic movement, which sought to portray the inner world and to explore human psychology. Romanticism was a “back to nature” movement; in the midst of the industrial revolution, they believed that connecting to nature was a way to obtain emotional and spiritual truth. This became a problem when it extended to non-Western peoples. Romantic painters—who were almost all of European descent—tende

The Daughters of Governor Ramón de Castro Source: Google Cultural Institute Yesterday, I mentioned the work of José Campeche in my post about Francisco Oller’s Still Life With Plantains and Bananas . I briefly discussed his work in that post, but I wanted to talk about in more detail. So, today, we’re going to be looking at Campeche’s painting, The Daughters of Governor Ramón de Castro . As the title suggests, the painting is a portrait of the two daughters of Ramón de Castro, who was the governor of Puerto Rico at that time. Campeche is an interesting figure in art history. He was the first Puerto Rican artist to be recognized by art historians and he is widely recognized to be one of the most significant and famous artists from the island. Campeche was the son of a freed slave, who was also a restorer and painter of religious statues. He received formal artistic training from a former Spanish court painter, and later became a popular portrait artist among elite Puerto Ricans. Cam

Still Life With Plantains and Bananas Source: WikiArt It’s been a while since I’ve discussed a still life painting on this blog, so today I want to talk about a painting that I personally find to be very calming, Still Life With Plantains and Bananas by Francisco Oller. As I’ve said before, still life paintings are often seen as boring or devoid of meaning by casual viewers of art. However, in truth, they often contain multiple levels of rich symbolism and meaning. As I’ve mentioned before, Oller—an impressionist who studied in France—is perhaps the most famous and celebrated of all Puerto Rican painters. Oller was particularly dedicated to causes of social justice, and his work celebrates the lives of everyday Puerto Rican, portraying their struggles with nuance and compassion. This is the underlying theme of Still Life With Plantains and Bananas , even though it doesn’t actually contain any representations of people. Plantains and bananas—the subjects of the painting—are traditi

How They Pluck Her! Source: The MET Today, I want to return to one of my favorite subjects in art: Francisco Goya’s Caprichos series. Goya published Los Caprichos —a series of etchings that depict the social ills of contemporary Spanish culture—in 1799, at the beginning of a century that would bring tremendous change to Spain. This print, entitled How they pluck her! ( ¡Qual la descañonan! ) is the twenty first in the series. It is one of many Caprichos that deals with the plight of prostitutes in Spanish culture. Here, we see a prostitute—represented as a “night-hunting bird”—being attacked by three feline creatures that art historian Eleanor Sayre interprets as a constable, notary, and magistrate. The image refers to unscrupulous law enforcers, who commonly mistreated vulnerable women while hiding behind their positions; as The Ayala Commentary (a contemporary description of the Caprichos ) reports, “judges take notaries and constables under their cloaks [their protection] so

The Last Sleep of Arthur in Avalon Source: Museo de Arte de Ponce Today, I want to continue discussing the Pre-Raphaelite movement with The Last Sleep of Arthur in Avalon by Edward Burne-Jones. Although Pre-Raphaelite art is not something I know much about, it is a style that I find very attractive on an aesthetic level. As I said yesterday, if you want to know more about the style, I suggest you read this excellent essay ; however, the movement can generally be described as a paradoxical embrace of realism and a rejection of genre painting, the practice of depicting scenes of everyday life in paintings. Instead, Pre-Raphaelite artists believed art should portray “serious” subjects, such as literature, poetry, mythology, and history. In particular, they drew inspiration from medieval art, as is evidenced by The Last Sleep of Arthur in Avalon . As the title suggests, the painting depicts the mythical King Arthur in the midst of his final sleep; according to legend, Arthur was bro

Flaming June Source: The Frick Collection We’ve been touching on some dark topics in art lately, and today is Valentine’s Day, so today I want to chat about a painting that is a bit lighter and happier in terms of subject matter: the Flaming June by Frederic Leighton. Sometimes called the Mona Lisa of the southern hemisphere, this happens to be one of my mom’s favorite paintings, and I’ve had the privilege of seeing it multiple times at the Museo de Arte de Ponce in Puerto Rico. The painting, which depicts a sleeping woman, is usually understood to be “art for art’s sake,” a philosophical idea that posits that art has inherent value. Flaming June does not seek to convey a specific message or narrative; it is simply a celebration of beauty. Leighton’s work was heavily influenced by the Pre-Raphaelite movement. The Pre-Raphaelite philosophy is not my area of expertise, but it is a style that I find to be very attractive. If you want to know more about the style, I suggest you re

Riddle of Fear Source: Museo del Prado I’ve written many posts about the work of Francisco Goya on this blog. Goya, who is one of my favorite artists, is well known as a member of the enlightenment movement. His work can often be interpreted as social commentary, highlighting the ills of contemporary Spanish society. However, his work also contains a surreal, fantastical streak that is tinged by darkness. Riddle of Fear ( Disparate de Miedo in Spanish) is a good example of this element of Goya’s catalogue. This enigmatic print is one of the most famous of Goya’s Los Disparates series, which was never published during his lifetime. As a series, Los Disparates , which translates to the Follies , are famously difficult to interpret. According to my research , art historians traditionally read the follies as interpretations of Spanish proverbs or carnival scenes. However, as art historian Douglas Cushing suggests, I believe it’s not strictly necessary to assign a definitive inte

Mural la Plena Source: Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico Today I want to chat about a monumental piece of art that I recently had the pleasure of seeing at the Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico. As the name suggests, Mural La Plena is a massive mural, fifteen by thirty feet in size, that was created by Puerto Rican artist Rafael Tufiño to commemorate la plena, a wildly popular genre of music that was born in the city of Ponce around 1900. The mural, which might appear abstract or incomprehensible to a viewer unfamiliar with the subject matter, illustrates the lyrics of popular plena songs. For example, the blue-green figure that dominates the upper half of the mural represents the hurricane from the plena “Temporal,” which mourns the destruction caused by a storm. Plena, as a genre, tells stories. According to my research , the lyrics come from current events, re-telling the stories that affected the lives of the people of Ponce. It began as a way for people of low socio-economic sta

The Entombment of Christ Source: The MET The Entombment of Christ Source: The MET  I recently encountered this sculpture on the MET’s Instagram account (which is a great account to follow if you’re interested in art); I found it to be really striking, so I want to chat about it a bit today. As the title suggests, the sculpture depicts Christ being laid to rest after the crucifixion. The body is surrounded by mourners and disciples, including a female figure—probably representative of Mary Magdalene—who bows her head over Christ’s stigmata. Luisa Roldán’s execution of the theme marks her as a skilled and experienced artist. Every detail—from the wounds on Christ’s body to the folds of cloth—is depicted with careful precision, an impressive feat given that the sculpture is only about two feet long. It is profoundly beautiful and, simply, breathtaking. To modern eyes, the sculpture might appear garish. However, it’s important to remember that contemporary viewers would ex

Tu Que no Puedes Source:  The Metropolitan Museum of Art Today, I want to return to the subject of Francisco Goya’s Caprichos series. Goya published Los Caprichos in 1799, a series of etchings that depict the social ills of contemporary Spanish culture. This print from the series, entitled Tu Que no Puedes (Thou who canst not) presents a criticism of idle, useless aristocrats. The print depicts two donkeys being carried on the shoulders of two men; the satirical implication here is that the donkeys, who, in the natural order of things, should be carrying the men, are so useless that the men have to carry them. The men, dressed in rags, represent the everyday, ordinary people of Spain, who must support the lazy, extravagant aristocracy. According to historian Richard Herr, Enlightened Spanish thinking was centered around an “ideal landscape” in which “idle aristocrats...were out of place, and poverty-stricken laborers would disappear.” Goya espouses these ideals in many o

Huracan del Norte Source: Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Puerto Rico How should an artist approach the depiction of a natural disaster? This is a difficult question as storms and floods are necessarily comprised of motion, and art is traditionally static. Puerto Rican artist Carlos Raquel Rivera addresses this problem in his print Huracan del Norte (Northern Hurricane). As the title suggests, the print depicts the ravages of a hurricane. However, Rivera borrows elements of Western iconography to portray the storm; here, the artist uses the Medieval dance of death motif to represent the hurricane, which traditionally represents the idea that death comes to all people. These images usually include a symbol of death in company with humans who will soon meet their demise. In Huracan del Norte , the skeletal figure of death stretches across the sky, dragging with him the distorted bodies of the men and women who have been killed by the storm. In his hand, the figure of death carries

Death and Life Source: Leopold Museum Following my discussion of El Velorio yesterday, I want to continue our conversation about the symbolic contrast between life and death in art. Death and Life by Gustav Klimt is perhaps the most starkly symbolic depiction of this dichotomy. Like almost all of Klimt’s work, the painting is firmly grounded in visual symbolism. Klimt was part of the symbolist movement. As the name suggests, the symbolists rejected naturalism and realism in paintings, instead choosing to explore the spiritual and philosophical world through the use of symbolic imagery. Their work aimed to access a higher truth, a level of spiritual and emotional reality that was neglected by the work of realist painters. According to my research , Klimt was inspired by the dance of death motif in Medieval art, which explores the idea that death comes to all people. His painting reexamines this theme for the modern age. On the left, stands the skeletal figures of death, gazing

El Velorio Source: Wikipedia Today, I want to take some time to talk about one of the most important and well known paintings in the history of Puerto Rican art: Francisco Oller’s masterpiece, El Velorio . Oller, an impressionist who studied in France, is perhaps the most famous and celebrated Puerto Rican painter. Oller was particularly dedicated to causes of social justice, and his work celebrates the lives of everyday Puerto Rican, portraying their struggles with nuance and compassion. As I mentioned above, El Velorio is his masterpiece and one of Puerto Rico’s national treasures. Measuring eight by thirteen feet, El Velorio (which literally translates to The Wake) is truly a monumental work. It portrays a baquiné , a wake held for a dead infant. The baquiné is a traditional practice that has its roots in African cultures; the ceremony, which is essentially a wake, celebrates the child’s ascension to Heaven after his or her death and is underpinned by the belief that the d

Ognissanti Madonna Source:   Uffizi Gallery The work of the Italian artist Giotto occupies a unique place in art history. He is often regarded as one of the first artists of the Renaissance, and, as such, his paintings form a bridge between the Medieval and Renaissance periods. When thinking about the history of art, it’s important to remember that artistic movements don’t arise overnight. On a grand scale, stylistic changes emerge gradually. There is no sharp dividing line between the end of the Medieval period and the beginning of the Renaissance. Giotto’s Ognissanti Madonna is a good example of this. The painting is a true representation of the interaction between two stylistic movements. The piece is obviously influenced by Medieval representations of the Virgin Mary; the Madonna herself is a massive figure, towering above the angels who surround her. Her throne resembles a gothic reliquary, neither furniture nor true architectural space. The throne itself floats its

They Spruce Themselves Up Source: The MET Today, I want to return to talking about my favorite subject: Francisco Goya’s Los Caprichos series. In this etching, They Spruce Themselves Up ( Se Repulen ), we see three unidentifiable creatures, busily engaged in clipping their nails and otherwise “sprucing themselves up.” Contemporary viewers interpreted these gruesome figures corrupt government officials. In fact, The Biblioteca Nacional Commentary— a contemporary commentary located in the Madrid National Library—noted that “the employees that rob the state help and support each other. Their chief lifts up his neck and he makes shade for them with his monstrous wings.” However, on a more literal level, the image is a commentary on vanity, a theme that Goya explored throughout his work, especially within Los Caprichos . Goya’s absurd print points out that even these grotesque creatures have their vanity, even though no amount of “sprucing” will make them visually appealing. Goy

The Big Fish Eat the Little Fish Source: The MET Today, I want to talk about a very strange engraving: The Big Fish Eat the Little Fish . According to the MET , the title of the print refers to a Latin proverb, which refers to the universal tendency of the powerful to prey on the weak. Although the meaning of the proverb is fairly obvious, the print itself is rather bizarre. The focal point is a massive fish, beached upon the shore. A man with a large knife slits the fish open, revealing dozens of smaller fish stuffed inside. The background is dotted with fantastical images of fish devouring each other and other, stranger creatures such as a flying fish and a fish walking on human legs. In the distance, the faint outline of a city is visible, its docks crowded with the masts of ships. The visual style of the engraving is clearly inspired by the work of Dutch painter Hieronymus Bosch. In fact, the knife in the center of The Big Fish Eat the Little Fish is a direct reference th

Still Life with Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels Source: The Mauritshuis I might be making a generalization, but it seems to me that still life paintings are vastly under appreciated by modern viewers. In my experience, casual museum-goers often dismiss still lifes as boring or unimportant. My goal today is to convince anyone who might be harboring this belief (and is also reading this blog post) that still lifes are, in fact, as interesting as any other piece of art. Although modern viewers are often dismissive of still lifes, it is important to remember that constructing a still life requires just as much skill as creating a figurative painting. Both require deep consideration of light and composition, among other elements, as well as technical expertise. Furthermore, still lifes contain a symbolic language of their own, with particular flowers, objects, and foods holding specific significance to contemporary viewers. For example, a rose is traditionally a symbol of the Virgin Mar

The Rhinoceros Source: The MET Today, I want to talk about one of my favorite artists, Albrecht Dürer. Dürer was a remarkable artist for many reasons; he was among the first to capitalize on selling art directly to ordinary people—thanks to the invention of printing, Dürer’s famous woodcuts and engravings could be reproduced and sold fairly easily—and was also one of the first artists to consistently sign his work. His iconic AD signature can be seen as the modern day equivalent of a trademark, used as a form of branding and to also differentiate his work from copy-cat artists. Like many artists of the Northern Renaissance, Dürer was interested in portraying the world around him in a naturalistic and accurate way. His work reveals that the artist meticulously studied the human body, as well as animals and even plants. In fact, Dürer even published a book about human proportions. Which is why it is ironic that Dürer’s most famous woodcut, The Rhinoceros , was not the result of stu