Art is the Solution

Madonna of Port Lligat Source: Haggerty Museum of Art Among modern artists, there is perhaps no one individual as recognizable or as eccentric as Salvador Dalí (he kept both anteaters and ocelots as pets, for starters). Dalí’s “melting clocks” (an aspect of his painting The Persistence of Memory ) have become well established in pop culture, allowing him to become a household name throughout the Western world. I’m typically not a big fan of Dalí’s work, but I was struck by one of his paintings that I encountered recently while doing research on another piece of art. The piece is entitled the Madonna of Port Lligat , and I think it’s rather fascinating. Dalí was interested in discovering the power behind images. This led him to explore religious themes in his work, through which he attempted to access a spiritual connection to the power they contained. In essence, Dalí used art to forge a mystical connection to what he perceived to be divine. In Madonna of Port Lligat , Dalí per

Saint John the Baptist as a Boy Source: Wikimedia Commons The Baroque period is probably one of my favorite eras of art history. The Baroque is characterized by experimentation with light and shadow, exaggerated motion, and, in general, extreme visual drama (and, anyone who knows me knows that I like drama in art). At its core, Baroque art attempts to access some sort of psychological reality, and the painting I’m going to talk about today is no different. Saint John the Baptist as a Boy was created by the Baroque painter Michaelina Wautier, one of the great Dutch painters of the seventeenth century. As the title suggests, it depicts Saint John the Baptist—one of the most popular subjects for Christian art throughout Western history—as a young boy. Wautier was a master of portraiture and particularly excelled in capturing the faces of children, which she executed with incredible sensitivity. Her image of Saint John captures the young boy at a particularly poignant moment. Here, t

Horse, Pipe and Red Flower Source: Philadelphia Museum of Art When one considers Spanish art in the nineteenth century, three names probably come to mind: Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dalí, and Joan Miró. Although Miró is probably the least known of these three (outside of Spain anyway), I think his work is particularly important in that it captures something uniquely Spanish. Miró was from Barcelona, and his work is often associated with pride in the Catalan culture. In fact, Miró executed three separate pieces of civic art to welcome visitors to Barcelona during his career. Abstract art doesn’t often appeal to me, but I do have affection for Miró’s colorful and expressive work. In particular, Horse, Pipe and Red Flower has always appealed to me. The painting is one of Miró’s earlier pieces, created when his work was still quite figurative, as opposed to abstract. It depicts a table heaped with a jumble of items, including a pipe, a book, a flower, and a figurine of a horse. While the

The Cure of Folly Source: Museo del Prado Yesterday, I introduced the topic of Hieronymus Bosch in my post about his Triptych of the Temptation of Saint Anthony . Bosch is perhaps one of the most interesting painters of the Northern Renaissance period. I wrote a fairly lengthy piece about Bosch’s work, but his oeuvre is very rich and complex, so I thought I’d bring you another one of his paintings. The Cure of Folly is probably my favorite Bosch piece, largely because it’s just so strange. The painting depicts a man wearing a metal funnel on his head who is busily engaged in cutting something (the so-called stone of madness) out of another man’s head. Two other figures look on, including a woman with a book balanced on her head who is thought to represent folly. This scene has been the subject of art historical debate for many years, and the long and the short of it is that no one knows exactly what this painting is supposed to represent. However, everyone seems to agree that the

Triptych of the Temptation of Saint Anthony Source: Wikimedia Commons I don’t know how I’ve managed to write this blog for four months without mentioning the work of one of the strangest painters of all time, Hieronymus Bosch. Bosch was active during the period of the Northern Renaissance, although, in my opinion his work owes a lot to the Medieval period. Although I wouldn’t say Bosch is one of my favorite painters, I do find his work to be endlessly interesting and entertaining. This is mostly because it’s just so strange ! Bosch’s work is highly imaginative, and his style is instantly recognizable (although that can sometimes lead you astray, as many artists tried to replicate his style). In case you’re wondering what I mean by “highly imaginative,” I want to draw your attention to the man and woman riding on the back of a fish that is flying through the air at the top of the right panel (and, I should note that I’m using this example because some of the things in this tr

Judith Slaying Holofernes Source: Wikimedia Commons A few months ago, I discussed one of Caravaggio’s most famous paintings, Judith Beheading Holofernes . Judith—a biblical figure—has been a popular subject throughout the history of Western art, and there are probably thousands of paintings that portray Judith killing the general Holofernes in order to save her city from his army. The drama and violence (plus the opportunity to paint a beautiful woman) made the story appealing to artists, especially after the advent of the Renaissance period. All of these paintings contain roughly the same narrative elements and characters, but each artist brings their own perspective to the scene. Artemisia Gentileschi—perhaps the most famous female painter of the Baroque period—took a particularly unique approach to the subject. Gentileschi lived an extraordinary and tragic life; I don’t want to talk about it too much here because I believe that discussion of the pain and abuse she endured often

Spectacled Caiman and a False Coral Snake Source: Wikimedia Commons The boundary between art and science is often very distinct, but, in some situations the line can be blurred. While art is subjective by its nature and contains inherent bias, it can be a valuable scientific tool in that it provides a record of the artist’s experiences and observations (like a visual lab notebook). This is certainly true of the art of Maria Sibylla Merian. Merian was a naturalist who studied insects. Although her work touched upon other animals as well, she is best known as one of the founders of the field of entomology. Throughout her career, Merian published several books documenting the lifecycle of many species of insects, with an emphasis on the process of metamorphosis, something she studied in great detail. She produced hundreds of stunning illustrations to accompany these books, and (given the topic of this blog) those images are what’s most interesting to me.  Inflorescence of Banan

Bat Zemi (Taino Culture) Source: Wake Forest University Museum of Anthropology I feel like bats have gotten a bad rap lately. There is evidence that the novel coronavirus that is currently causing a worldwide pandemic originally came from bats, which seems to have given a lot of people the idea that bats are the enemy, so to speak. Personally, I find bats to be rather adorable, and, more importantly, they’re a vital part of most ecosystems, dispersing seeds, pollinating plants, and eating troublesome insects. It’s true that they carry many diseases, but this doesn’t mean they’re dirty or unhealthy; bats simply have immune systems that function very differently from those of other mammals. Therefore, bats can carry diseases without actually getting sick. As I noted, I feel a lot of personal affection for bats. So, in honor of these remarkable creatures, I wanted to take a few moments to discuss the history of bats in art. In Western culture, bats have a long history of being associa

The Unicorn in Captivity Source:  The Metropolitan Museum of Art Medieval art has a special kind of charm. In many ways it is stranger and more complex than the vaunted sculptures and paintings of the Renaissance period, offering a nuanced look into the spiritual and psychological life of those who lived through one of the most transformative and turbulent periods of Western history. Typically, medieval art is rich in symbolism, and the Unicorn Tapestries (housed in the MET Museum) are no exception. The MET describes them as “among the most beautiful and complex works of art from the late Middle Ages that survive.” There are seven tapestries in the series, each depicting a scene from the hunt for the unicorn, a mythical beast surrounded by countless layers of allegorical and (somewhat) esoteric meaning. The unicorn is a creature shrouded in mysticism. In Western legend, a unicorn can only be touched by a virgin, making it a symbol of purity and grace. Some medieval texts also s

The Innocent Eye Test Source: MET Museum Today, I want to talk about a very amusing piece of art that I had the privilege of seeing at the MET Museum several years ago. The Innocent Eye Test portrays a cow studying a painting of two bulls. A group of scholars stand by, waiting to see how the cow will react to the painting. Will she notice that the bulls aren’t real? Or, will she treat them as living animals? (Although, I can’t be too critical of their curiosity because I often wonder if my cats recognize photos or videos of other cats). The term innocent eye refers to the gaze of a naive or uneducated person; the cow is the innocent eye in this scenario, viewing the painting with fresh eyes. The cow herself seems to be calmly studying the art, just like an ordinary visitor to the museum. Personally, I find the painting to be very entertaining, something we all need during these stressful times. However, the artist—Mark Tansey—had a more serious aim in mind. As the MET Museum expla

Queen Juana the Mad Source: Prado Museum One of the interesting things about art is that it is able to portray the full range of human emotion and experience. Francisco Pradilla y Ortiz’s masterpiece Queen Juana the Mad is one example of this phenomenon. As the title suggests, the monumental painting depicts Queen Juana of Castile, the daughter of the famed Catholic monarchs: Isabella and Ferdinand of Spain. Juana is an infamous figure in Spanish history, known for her supposed madness following the death of her husband. Juana traveled with her husband’s coffin through Spain to his final resting place. It was said that she refused to part with his body for an unnaturally long time, opening the coffin to embrace the corpse. Although there is no evidence that any of this actually happened, the dramatic and morbid subject matter naturally appealed to artists like Pradilla. The young queen’s insanity clearly captured Pradilla’s imagination. The painting depicts Juana standing n

Careta Mask at the Museo de Arte de Ponce Source: Personal Photograph Yesterday, I wrote about the artistic legacy of Afro-Caribbean culture in my discussion of Wifredo Lam’s Rumblings of the Earth. Today, I want to continue that discussion by examining one of the most recognizable forms of Puerto Rican art: Vejigante masks. These masks, called careta , are traditionally worn during carnival in the Puerto Rican cities of Ponce and Loiza. Vejigante figures, who wear the masks, represent a demonic character from Spanish folklore, and their presence in modern religious festivals can be loosely interpreted as a symbol of triumph over the devil and forces of evil more generally. In truth, in Puerto Rico, the tradition of the vejigante has more to do with the cultural traditions of the Taino people and of the African slaves who were brought to Puerto Rico by Spaniards. When you examine the history of colonization in Latin America, you will often find that indigenous peoples di

Rumor de la Tierra Source: Guggenheim Museum I encountered this painting today when I was reading about one of the MET’s current exhibitions: Arte del Mar: Artistic Exchange in the Caribbean. I found it to be a very interesting painting, so I wanted to chat about it. The painting, Rumblings of the Earth, is an outlier in the collection. While every other piece in the exhibition dates to pre-Columbian times, Rumblings of the Earth is modern. In a video posted to the MET’s YouTube channel , curators explain that Rumblings of the Earth was included to demonstrate the legacy of the pre-Columbian art of the Caribbean. I thought that this was a very salient point. I’ve written before about how art can be used to reclaim Caribbean heritage and challenge the colonial paradigm. Rumblings of the Earth does this by borrowing the visual language of pre-Columbian art and Caribbean culture. The jagged shapes that dot the painting echo the shapes of pre-Columbian pendants and amulets as wel

Lamentation over the Dead Christ Source: Pinacoteca di Brera While the Renaissance is probably the most famous artistic movement in the Western world, it’s far from my favorite. I tend to prefer stranger, more dramatic art, whereas the art of the Renaissance tends to exude an air of calm, unemotional serenity. Lamentation over the Dead Christ , however, is different. Although the painting dates to the Renaissance period, it doesn’t really look like a typical piece of Renaissance art. First of all, it is quite an emotional painting (which, as I noted above, is not typical for the Renaissance period). The extreme foreshortening of Christ’s body is designed for maximum visual impact. Christ’s evident deadness contributes to this phenomenon. It is very obvious that the artist Andrea Mantegna based his depiction of Christ on first hand observation. He depicts rigor mortis, the grayish tint of the skin, and the strangely bloodless wounds with an almost frightening degree of accuracy. It’s

The Great Piece of Turf Source: Google Cultural Institute Spring is definitely here now! In honor of all the blossoming flowers and the budding leaves, I decided to bring you one of the most famous images of a plant ever: Albrecht Dürer’s Great Piece of Turf . Now, I should note that the title of this little painting doesn’t come from the artist. In fact, Dürer would probably have seen it as insignificant. The Great Piece of Turf is a study, an informal piece that allowed Dürer to experiment with visual ideas in preparation for more serious pieces. The Great Piece of Turf is an example of Dürer’s attempts to capture an accurate picture of the natural world. This exceptional attention to detail is characteristic of Dürer’s work; he was a meticulous artist. Although realism was not an aim of his work, he recognized that it provided fundamental artistic value, heightening the impact of his work. Modern viewers, however, often interpret this piece of art in a different way. To many,

Loneliness Source: Daily Art Magazine In this time of social distancing, I thought it would be interesting to examine a painting that deals with isolation. I did some research and decided to bring you this painting, entitled Loneliness , by Belgian painted Paul Delvaux. The painting depicts a young woman walking along an empty street at night. Only her back is visible, signaling her separation from the viewer and the disconnect between her and the outside world. To the left, a train rolls past, a symbol of the transience and impermanence of life. Delvaux implies a visual comparison between the girl and the train, both follow a solitary path, traveling alone into the night. There is something very bleak and sad about this image. To my eyes, this interpretation of loneliness is somewhat unique to the modern age. Loneliness dates to 1956. In the years after the World Wars (particularly WWI), men and women began to become disillusioned with life, mainly as a result of the mind-numbi

Winter Landscape Source: Wikipedia I recently adopted a new cat named Caspar, so I thought it was a good time to bring you another painting by the great Romantic artist Caspar David Friedrich. Friedrich’s work checks all the boxes for Romantic art: dramatic landscapes, celebration of natural beauty, emphasis on individualism, and focus on emotion and the inner life of the artist. As a movement, Romanticism was a reaction against the Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution. Thus, painters like Friedrich sought authenticity and spiritual fulfillment by exploring their own psyches with the goal of tapping into a higher emotional truth. I saw this painting, entitled Winter Landscape , on Instagram, and I thought it would be fun to chat about. As the title suggests, this painting depicts a winter landscape. The spires of a church loom in the background, and two tall pine trees dominate the snowy scene. A cross stands in front of the trees, and a man—almost hidden in the shadows—lay

Romeo stabs Paris at the bier of Juliet Source: Folger Shakespeare Library Digital Image Collection I’ve written before about my deep affection for the work of Henry Fuseli. His work is most closely aligned with the Romantic movement, which drew its inspiration from emotion and individualism. Thus, it’s unsurprising that his work is steeped in melodrama (which I always find appealing). Fuseli often drew his subjects from the work of Shakespeare, which, naturally, is an excellent source of dramatic content. This painting—entitled Romeo stabs Paris at the bier of Juliet —is modeled on one of the final scenes of Romeo and Juliet , in which Romeo murders Paris before killing himself. As I noted above, dramatic is the perfect word to describe this painting. In fact, Fuseli often based his paintings on theatrical performances, so his paintings are dramatic in quite a literal sense. Here, Fuseli employs a loose, expressive style and stark contrast to capture the dark and tragic story of R

Country Doctor Source: Museum of Fine Arts Boston I missed National Doctors’ Day a few days ago, but, in this time of national crisis, I think every day should be National Doctors’ Day. To celebrate, I want to share this painting—entitled Country Doctor —which I first saw on the Museum of Fine Arts Boston’s Instagram page (I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, there’s nothing better than following art museums on Instagram). As the title suggests, the painting depicts a doctor, walking with a horse and a covered cart through a snowy landscape. He is presumably on his way to see a patient, battling the snow as he trudges through the night. The painting highlights his dedication to his work and draws attention to courageous persistence in the face of adversity. Although I believe this is an important message, the part of this painting that originally caught my attention is the snow (or perhaps it’s sleet; it’s tough to tell). It’s unusual to see weather in progress in art; I thi

Carnival Evening Source: Philadelphia Museum of Art I’ve written several times about my affection for Henri Rousseau’s work. Rousseau, a Frenchman, was a self-taught artist. His lack of formal education resulted in a highly original and recognizable style that I find very intriguing. Although Rousseau was most famous for his jungle scenes, Carnival Evening is a great example of his work. As the name suggests, it is a night scene. A man and woman emerge from the woods, dressed in festival costumes. The trees tower skeletally behind them, and a strange hut stands in the background, adorned with a streetlamp and a somewhat randomly placed face. As the Philadelphia Museum of Art notes, “an air of mystery pervades this wintry forest landscape.” This ambiguity is a feature of Rousseau’s work (and modern art in general). As the history of art progresses, art tends to become more ambiguous and less driven by narrative. Carnival Evening gives the viewer a great deal of freedom of interpre

The Last Drop Source: Google Cultural Institute I saw this painting on the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s Instagram account recently, and I thought it would be a fun piece of art to discuss today. This painting, entitled The Last Drop , was created by Judith Leyster, one of the most famous female artists of the Dutch golden age. As I mentioned in my last post, the Dutch Golden Age was a period of great prosperity in the Netherlands that is associated with an explosion of artistic production. Paintings from this period often depict domestic scenes and scenes of everyday life. Leyster in particular is famous for her genre paintings, pieces of art that focus on everyday life. Although Leyster’s style doesn’t have strong appeal to me personally, her paintings are prime examples of the Golden Age style. The Last Drop portrays two merrymakers, busily drinking and smoking themselves into a state of deep intoxication. Tavern scenes are common among genre paintings; in general, they can

Young Herdsmen with Cows Source: MET Museum In this stressful time, I thought I’d offer you a calming scene: Young Herdsmen with Cows by Aelbert Cuyp. This painting dates to the Dutch Golden Age, a period of great prosperity in the Netherlands that is associated with an explosion of artistic production. Paintings from this period often depict domestic scenes and scenes of everyday life. In this time of prosperity, Dutch art tended to look inward, celebrating the cultural and social values that brought wealth to the Netherlands (or, at least, that was what contemporary Dutch society believed). This painting, entitled Young Herdsmen with Cows , follows this model. As the title suggests, the piece depicts a herd of cows being tended by two young men. The majority of the painting is dominated by a placid blue sky, tinged with golden light. The animals look out over a river or lake, the surface of the water luminous and smooth. Although it seems like a simple scene, Cuyp relies

Noli me Tangere Source: Arthive.com In this time of social distancing, I thought I’d bring you another painting from the mannerist movement: Noli me Tangere by Lavinia Fontana. Noli me Tangere translates to Touch me Not ; it refers to a biblical scene in the Gospel of John in which Mary Magdalene encounters Christ after his resurrection. Jesus tells Mary Magdalene not to touch him, implying that he is now separate from the corporal world. Fontana’s interpretation of this scene is lush and colorful, featuring warm, jewel-toned colors. The figures of Mary Magdalene and Christ dominate the foreground, while the two other Marys arrive at the tomb to meet the angel who tells them that Jesus has been resurrected. Although this scene has been reproduced many times in the history of Western art, Fontana’s painting is unusually warm and tender in comparison to other depictions of the same moment, which usually have a more formal air. Christ stands in a casual pose; his body forms an S sha

Laocoön Source: National Gallery of Art In this history of Western art, the painter El Greco stands out as one of the most unique artists of all time. I’ve written about El Greco many times on this blog. He was a visionary, a man who was ahead of his time in many ways. Although he worked in Spain during the sixteenth century, his work appears exceptionally modern to twenty-first century viewers.  His work is characterized by distorted, elongated figures and a strange, grey-toned color scheme. His style has a painterly quality that gives it an energetic aura. Although some aspects of El Greco’s style (a name that literally means the Greek, a reference to the artist’s birth place) are in keeping with the Mannerist movement, his paintings exhibit a singular style totally unique to the artist. This painting, entitled Laocoön , is particularly unique. The piece tells the story of the demise of the mythological figure Laocoön, a character in Virgil’s Aeneid. Virgil recounts the death