Art Blog – Page 79 – my daily art display

A Bowl of Vegeatbles ? by Guiseppe Arcimboldo

The Bowl of Vegetables by Arcimboldo c.1590)

Today I spent a pleasant day lin Milan looking around a couple of art galleries. I went to the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana which had some marvellous sketches and notes by Leonardo da Vinci and some superb paintings by Jan Bruegel as well as a plethora of Italian Renaissance works of art. I then went to the Pinacoteca di Brera which has an unbelievable collection of paintings, many of which, like The Kiss by Francesco Hayez and the Dead Christ by Andrea Mantegna, I have featured in My Daily Art Display.

However for My Daily Art Display today I am going to feature a painting by an artist whose works were on show at an exhibition in the Palazzo Reale which is almost next door to the awesome Milan Cathedral. You either love or hate this artist’s work but you can never ignore it. He is Guiseppe Arcimboldo, born in Milan in 1527. He is famous for his imaginative portrait heads which are made entirely out of fruits, vegetables, flowers and fish. His father was also a painter and he and his son were commissioned to do some stained glass windows for the cathedral. At the age of thirty-five Arcimboldo became court painter for Ferdinand I at the Habsburg court in Vienna. Later he was to work in Prague for Emperor Maximilian II and his son Rudolf II as both a costume designer and decorator. Although Archimboldo completed many conventional and traditional religious works he will always be remembered for his human heads made up of such unusual thgings, like vegetables. The jury is out on their merit. Art historians disagree on whether these painting were just fanciful and quirky or the result of the artist’s disturbed mind. However it should be remembered that during the Renaissance period, people were mesmerised by the weird and outlandish and maybe all the artist did was to offer up something which was in great demand.

I had seen many of his paintings before in books but I had never been up close to them. They really are quite amazing. The painting I am featuring today (above) is not one of his well known “four season” paintings but is one of his “reversible head” paintings. I came across it at the exhibition and found it hung in an alcove in front of which, lying horizontally, was a mirror. The painting which was entitled Vegetables in a Bowl appeared to be just what it stated – a bowl of mixed vegetables which I took on face value.

However when I peered into the mirror it showed me an upside-down image of the painting and above is what I saw…… amazing isn’t it ?

The alternative title of the painting is The Vegetable Gardener. I love the chubby cheeks and the long swollen nose which some believe allude to the testicles and an erect penis but maybe that is taking imagination too far!

Like all painting, one can never fully appreciate the artist’s work until one is standing up close to them and taking in their true beauty. We all know that books try and give us faithful reproductions but there is nothing quite like the genuine article.

I leave Milan today and head east to Verona and Padua and then will go to Venice on Saturday.

Madame Moitessier by Ingres

By now you will have realised that the paintings I like the most are ones that have a story behind them. My Daily Art Display today has an intriguing tale attached to it which I will now share with you. The painting is entitled Madame Moitessier and the artist who created this work of art was Jean-Auguste- Dominique Ingres. This painting which was completed in 1856 is housed at the National Gallery in London. It is the date which is interesting as Ingres initially started the painting in 1844!

Marie-Clothilde-Inès Moitessier, née de Foucauld, was the daughter of a civil servant. Born in 1821 she married the wealthy banker, and one time importer of Cuban cigars, Sigisbert Moitessier. He was in his forties whilst she was just twenty-one years of age. Two years later, her husband spoke to a friend of Ingres and asked him to speak to the artist about painting a portrait of his new wife, Madame Montessiere. Ingres refused the commission, as to him, portraiture was a “low” form of art and he preferred to concentrate on “history paintings”. However his friend Marcotte persevered with the Monsieur Moitessier’s request and finally Ingres agreed to meet the new wife.

Ingres was immediately struck and captivated by her beauty and agreed to paint her portrait. Ingres then made his first mistake by suggesting that Moitessier should include her young daughter “la charmante Catherine” in the portrait. If you look at preliminary sketches of this work, which can be seen at the Ingres Museum in Montauban, you can see the head of Catherine under her mother’s arm. However by 1847 the young child had become so restless, couldn’t sit still for any lengthy period and finally rebelled against any artistic instructions and so, was banished.

Ingres was a perfectionist. Everything had to be just right with the work and over a period of time the clothes which Madame Montessier wore were changed to suit the artist and be of the latest fashion. In the finished painting she wears the latest woven floral fabric with a crinoline, the stiffened petticoat, which had just come into fashion in 1855. The lady also had little choice on what jewellery she should wear. Ingres was the Master and told her what to wear and couched his suggestions in terms of flattery. He was reported to have told her one day when discussing how she should adorn herself:

“……Since you are clearly beautiful all by yourself, I am abandoning, after mature consideration, the projected grand headdress for a gala. The portrait will be in even better taste and I fear that it would have distracted the eye too much at the expense of the head. Same thing for the brooch at your breast; the style is too old-fashioned and I beg you to replace it with a gold cameo. However I am not against a long and simple chatelaine, which I could terminate with the pendant of the first one. Please….bring on Monday your jewel chest, bracelets and the long pearl necklace……”

More bad luck for the commission was to follow as in 1849 Ingres’s wife died suddenly and the artist was devastated and didn’t paint for the next seven months. In 1851, seven years after he started the painting of the seated Madam Moitessier, little progress had been made and the husband became restless at this lack of progress. So that year, after constant cajoling and support from his friends and the demand of the sitter and her husband, he went back to the easel. Ingres started another painting of Moitessier’s wife, dressed in black, this time in a standing position. He completed this at the end of 1851 and this work can now be found in the National Gallery of Art in Washington.

After completing the standing portrait of Madame Moitessier he reverted back to the one he had begun in 1844. The lady is sitting in a rather strange pose. Art historians believe that the pose of the lady, hand touching cheek, captured in Ingres’s painting, was reminiscent of the fresco Hercules and Telephus from Herculaneum which Ingres probably saw when he was there in 1814. It is believed that Ingres had the sitter take up this pose but had to convince her husband that it was in keeping with Classical art and it made his wife look more learned and cultured. The husband liked this idea as he was of the nouveau riche and liked the idea that the painting may have people believe they were more akin to nobility. It is also quite amusing to read that Madame Moitessier had gained weight during her pregnancies and had demanded of Ingres that he should re-paint her arms and make them look thinner and thus more flattering! This painting took over twelve years to complete and there are many preliminary drawings of it in existence.

Why did it take him so long? I have told you of some problems he encountered during this epic and I suppose we should also remember that he was 76 years of age when he finally completed the work and age may have played a large part in the agonisingly slowness in his progress. Still, now we look at the finished article we must admire Ingres’s work.

Marie-Clothilde-Inès Moitessier, née de Foucauld, was the daughter of a civil servant. Born in 1821 she married the wealthy banker, and one time importer of Cuban cigars Sigisbert Moitessier. He was in his forties whilst she was just twenty-one years of age. Two years later, her husband spoke to a friend of Ingres and asked him to speak to the artist about painting a portrait of his new wife, Madame Montessiere. Ingres refused the commission as to him portraiture was a “low” form of art and he preferred to concentrate on “history paintings”. However his friend Marcotte persevered with the Monsieur Moitessier’s request and finally Ingres agreed to meet the new wife.

Ingres was immediately struck by her beauty and agreed to paint her portrait. Ingres then made his first mistake by suggesting that Moitessier should include her young daughter “la charmante Catherine” in the portrait. If you look at preliminary sketches of this work, which can be seen at the Ingres Museum in Montauban, you can see the head of Catherine under her mother’s arm. However by 1847 the young child had become so restless, couldn’t sit still for any lengthy period and finally rebelled against any artistic instructions and was banished.

More bad luck for the commission was to follow as in 1849 Ingres’s wife died suddenly and the artist was devastated and didn’t paint for the next seven months. In 1851, seven years after he started the painting of the seated Madam Moitessier little progress had been made and the husband became restless at this lack of progress. So that year after constant cajoling and support from his friends and the demand of the sitter that he produced something, Ingres started another painting of Moitessier’s wife, dressed in black, this time in a standing position. He completed this at the end of 1851 and this work can now be found in the National Gallery of Art in Washington.

After completing the standing portrait of Madame Moitessier he reverted back to the one he had begun in 1844. The lady is sitting in a rather strange pose. Art historians believe that the pose of the lady, hand touching cheek, captured in Ingres’s painting was reminiscent of the fresco Hercules and Telephus from Herculaneum and which Ingres probably saw when he was there in 1814. It is believed that Ingres had the sitter in this pose, and he had tgo convince her husband that it was in keeping with Classical art and it made his wife look more learned and cultured. The husband liked this idea as he was of the nouveau riche and liked the idea that the painting may have people believe they were more akin to nobility. It is also quite amusing to read that Madame Moitessier had gained weight during her pregnancies and had demanded of Ingres that he should re-paint her arms and make them look thinner and thus more flattering! This painting took over twelve years to complete and there are many preliminary drawings of it in existence.

Why did it take him so long? I have told you of some problems he encountered during this epic and I suppose we should also remember that he was 76 years of age when he finally completed the work and age may have played a large part in the agonisingly slowness in his work. Still, now we look at the finished article and must admire Ingres’s work.

Grand Canal: Looking North-East towards the Rialto Bridge by Canaletto

As today I am setting off for a short break in Milan and Venice, I thought it only right to feature a painting of the beautiful Adriatic city. I suppose the name one conjures up in one’s mind when one thinks of art and Venice is Giovanni Antonio Canal better known by his nickname Canaletto (meaning little canal). He was born in Venice in 1697 and was the son of Bernardo Canal, a painter, hence the use of the nickname to differentiate his works from those of his father. My Daily Art Display for today is Grand Canal: Looking North-East towards the Rialto Bridge which Canaletto completed around 1725 and now hangs in the Gemäldegalerie in Dresden.

This was one of the largest works ever completed by Canaletto, measuring 146cms x 234cms. We, the viewer, are looking on this scene from first floor of Palazzo Garzoni on the Grand Canal which is situated at the corner of Rio di Sant’Angelo. If we look across the water to the left we are just able to make out the start of the Rio di San Polo, on the left side of which, in the left corner of the painting is the building, Palazzo Barbarigo della Terazza. If you look over the top of the building you can just make out the top of the San Polo steeple. Let your eyes alight on the buildings across the other side of the water and move along to the right to the end of the buildings and you can just see the famous Rialto Bridge

We are looking in a north-easterly direction at a threatening sky and by the dampness on the parapet in the right foreground one must presume there has been rain earlier on in the day and maybe the storm has passed or perhaps the heavens are about topen once again.

Canaletto has added a number of gondolas to the scene and we see them move up and down and criss-cross the Grand Canal. I am not sure who has the right of way on the canal but if you look closely at the row-boat and the gondola in the left foreground they are about to collide with the men from the row-boat frantically trying to fend off the prow of the gondola. The passenger of the gondola can be seen standing up gesticulating at his gondolier. It is thought that Canaletto’s positioning of the various boats in the painting is not based on reality but more to add a picturesque quality to the work. This is not the only thing which is not true to life as what we see does not exist. Canaletto actually combined two views into one. The right side of the painting is a view one would see from the north-east corner of the Palazzo Garzoni but the left hand side of our painting could only be viewed from the north-west corner of the Palazzo so although the two sides look as if they are opposite each other we are in fact looking at a scene which encompasses a ninety degree angle. However let us not worry about that illusion, let us just take in the exquisite detail of life in 18^th century Venice.

As I said at the begining I am about to go catch my flight to Milan and although I promised you a daily art display my output will be totally reliant on the WiFi availability at my hotels

Arrivederci

The Anatomy Lesson of Doctor Tulp by Rembrandt

A few days ago I featured Rembrandt’s painting Bathsheba at her toilet and to me the interest in the painting was three-fold. The picture itself, the story of Bathsheba and her moral dilemma and the story behind Hendrickje Stoffels, who was the artist’s model for Bathsheba. Today’s featured painting is fascinating to me because of what is going on in the painting and of course I just love looking at Rembrandt’s stunning work of art.

The featured painting today in My Daily Art Display is Rembrandt’s The Anatomy Lesson of Doctor Tulp which he painted in 1632 and now hangs in the Mauritshuis in The Hague. Rembrandt who was born in 1606 began work as a professional portraitist when he was about twenty five years of age.

We see before us a group of eight men standing around a corpse which is lying on a table. All are well dressed , which would immediately signify to us that these are gentlemen of some standing. The man dressed in black, wearing the wide brimmed hat is Doctor Nicolaes Tulp, a Dutch surgeon and, at the time of the painting, was the official City Anatomist of Amsterdam. The seven men around him who look on and listen intently to what he is saying are members of the Amsterdam Guild of Surgeons and it is more than likely that Rembrandt was commissioned to paint this picture by the Guild so that it could be hung in their offices. Almost twenty-five years later Rembrandt was commissioned again by the Guild to do a similar painting featuring Tulp’s successor and it was entitled The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Jan Deijman.

The law at the time stipulated that the City Anatomist was only allowed to carry out one dissection of a body in a year and furthermore the body must be of a criminal who had been executed for his crimes. Such anatomy lectures would usually only be carried out in winter time when temperatures were lower as there was no electricity in those days to refrigerate corpses and sometimes this experimentation and these talks would go on for several days. It is interesting to note that sexual equality had not reached Amsterdam at this time as it would not be for another hundred years that a female body could be dissected !

There is hardly any visible background to this painting although I believe if you look at the painting itself you can just make out a stone archway. Everything retreats into shadows

The lifeless body shown in today’s painting is that of Aris Kindt, aka Adriaan Adriaanszoon. It is stiff and still in sharp contrast to the animated observers. He was a violent criminal and his crime had been one of armed robbery and was sentenced to death by hanging. His recent demise is seen in the way Rembrandt has partially shaded his face insinuating that umbra mortis, the shadow of death, had started to set in. In some way the dead body is what we focus upon, probably for its gruesome element, but also by the way the artist has given it a powerful brightness. The face has an evil look about it or is that just “in our mind” because we are aware that he was an executed criminal. Although this is an anatomical lecture there is one person missing, namely, the Preparator who was the person whose task was to prepare the body for the lesson. This was considered somewhat of a menial and bloody task, which the likes of Doctor Tulp would not be expected to carry out. Tulp was a lecturer and an educator and if you look to the right of the painting you can see an anatomical text book lying open on a lecturn.

Our eyes then move to Doctor Tulp and his onlookers. The thirty-nine year old Tulp leads the experiment. His hat remains on his head to signify his standing within the group of men. The onlookers included just two doctors, the rest being made up of leading citizens who would pay handsomely for the privilege of being included in this type of official group portrait. They are all dressed in their finest clothes as if it was a social event. In reality, that is exactly what it was – a social event of the Guild of Surgeons and at such events members of the Guild could invite guests or admit paying citizens. Look at their facial expressions, what do you see? Fascinated interest or an unease at what they are witnessing for remember the dissection of a human body was not fully accepted for another century. Note how Rembrandt has positioned them randomly on different levels. Some looking up, some looking down and some stare straight out at us. This is very different to the way artists used to paint Group Portraits in the 17^th century when the people stood in rigid symmetry with similar postures to ensure that no one person looked more important than the others. For us the viewer, we experience a moral dilemma regarding the experimentation of an executed person for the medical reasons. However the seven people attending the anatomical experiment are in no doubt with regards its legality and watch avidly as Doctor Tulp, using forceps he is holding in his right hand, raises the muscle and tendons of the dead man’s arm so as to demonstrate the interaction and control they have on the movement of the hand and at the same time we see Tulp with his left hand manipulating his own fingers to demonstrate to his audience the amazing action they are witnessing. It is not known how Rembrandt gained the anatomical knowledge but maybe he copied it from textbooks. Rembrandt has cleverly caught Tulp’s dramatic gesture. It reminds me of a magician who looks out at his audience with a sense of pride after he has completed his trick and maybe, for some of his on-lookers, that is exactly what Tulp has done.

In the top left hand corner of the painting we can just make out the artist’s signature (unfortunately, not very clear in my attached picture). He has signed it :

Rembrandt f[ecit]

This was his usual signature, in fact it is the earliest painting of his that has been signed just using his christian name as normally he signed his works just with his initials:

RHL

which stood for Rembrandt Harmenszoon of Leiden. Maybe the artist believed he was now famous enough to just be known as “Rembrandt” which of course is how we know him today.

There is an interesting footnote to this piece. In 2006 a group of researchers re-enacted this scene with a male cadaver and in so doing revealed many anatomical discrepancies in the way the left arm had been depicted in the painting in comparison to how it was in reality. Notwithstanding this, I hope you will agree with me that this is an excellent work of art.

Young Man with a Skull (Vanitas) by Frans Hals

Frans Hals was born in Antwerp around 1582. His family were forced to leave their home and flee to Haarlem during the siege of Antwerp by Spanish troops. Hals studied under the Mannerist painter, Karel van Mander. In 1609 he became a member of the city’s painter’s union and society, the Haarlem Guild of St Luke and began to earn a living by working for the town council as an art restorer. Hals married twice. His first wife Annetje Hamensdochter Abeel died in 1616 during childbirth. A year later he married Lysbeth Reyniers, the young daughter of a fishmonger, who he had employed to look after his children from his first marriage. Hals and his second wife went on to have a further eight children. Unlike his fellow artists of the time he demanded that his patrons came to him rather than for him to leave his family and travel the country to seek out patronage and make his fortune. Frans Hals died in Haarlem in 1666, aged 84 with very little to show financially for his artistic career. He had been penniless on many occasions and had often been taken to court by his creditors. Left destitute, the municipality had little choice but to subsidise him for the last two years of his life.

My Daily Art Display today is the oil on canvas painting entitled Young Man Handling a Skull (Vanitas) painted by Frans Hals between 1626 and 1628. On first sight we immediately think of the scene from Shakespeare’s play Hamlet when Hamlet was seen contemplating the skull of Yorick in the graveyard of Elsinore. For many actors and playgoers this scene is a lasting favourite and remains one of the most memorable images of the melancholy Prince. The play was first performed in 1600 so maybe Hals based his painting on that very scene. However art historians would have us believe otherwise, and believe it is much more likely to be a Dutch Vanitas allegory. Vanitas paintings feature an object (or objects) which symbolises our own mortality and the fact that life is short and reminds us of the transient nature of all our earthly pleasures and achievements. The Vanitas paintings are meant as a warning and ask us, the viewers, notwithstanding our age, to think about death . The inclusion of a skull in a painting was a typical motif of a Vanitas painting.

However this is more than just a Vanitas painting. In front of us we have a boy holding a skull. His rosy cheeks, similar in colour to his lips, give him a youthful appearance. His right hand reaches towards us as he gestures. See how the artist has skilfully foreshortened his hand in such a way that it seems to be bursting out of the canvas towards us. In his left hand is the skull, glowing in comparison to the darkness of the boy’s palm and clothes. The light comes from the left hand side of the painting causing a dark shadow on one side of the boy’s face.

The painter was famous for his style. He worked quickly, often painting “wet on wet”. Wet-on-wet is a painting technique in which layers of wet paint are applied to previous layers of wet paint. This technique requires a fast way of working, because the art work has to be finished before the first layers have dried. This technique results in vibrant swirls of semi-blended colour. Van Gogh admired this technique and wrote:

….eyes, nose, mouth done with a single stroke of the brush without any retouching whatever,,,,, To paint in one rush, as much as possible in one rush…..I think a great lesson taught by the old Dutch masters is the following: to consider drawing and colour [as one]….”

This is an interesting portrait. There is a beautiful simplicity about it but let us not overlook the skill of the artist who has given us such a work of art.

El bufón don Sebastián de Morra by Velázquez

The oil on canvas painting featured in My Daily Art Display today is a somewhat unusual, and to me, disturbing portrait by Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez entitled El bufón don Sebastián de Morra. Sebastián de Morra was a dwarf and jester to the court of Philip IV of Spain. He was crippled from birth and sadly was the subject of ridicule and mistreatment from the nobleman at Philip’s court. He was the servant of the King’s eldest son and heir, the teenage Prince Baltasar Carlos. On the prince’s untimely death at the age of 16, due to contracting smallpox, Baltasar left in his will a small silver sword and other objects to Don Sebastian and from this gesture we must believe the two of them had a very close and amicable relationship. Velázquez painted the portrait of other dwarfs of the Spanish court. Look back at My Daily Art Display of December 27^th when I featured Velázquez’s painting Las Meninas in which we saw the dwarf, Maribárbola. The German philosopher and art historian Carl Justi said of their life at court: “they were loved and treated as dogs”. These unfortunate people were often found at courts in the Middle Ages and were given shelter in return for their services as court jesters, a position which left them open to offensive remarks and practical jokes. It was their lot in life to accept such unkindness and had just to be thankful that they had a roof over their heads.

This painting by Velázquez around 1646 is, by far, one of the painter’s most impressive and unforgettable works. Against a dark background we see the figure of the dwarf, Don Sebastián. There is a lack of elegance in the way he sits on the ground. He is leaning slightly to one side. His foreshortened legs stick out and he reminds us somewhat of a puppet which has been abandoned and his strings released by his puppeteer master. His tightly clenched hands rest on his thighs. He looks intently out at us making us feel slightly guilty that we are staring in at him. Can you look at him for any length of time without wanting to turn away as if you know you shouldn’t be staring at him? He looks somewhat annoyed. There is sadness in his dark eyes, which is contrary to his role as a jester, when his sole aim was to exude happiness and make people laugh. Maybe his expression is to remind us, lest we forget or are swayed by his opulent attire, that his life is not full of fun. Although he displays a dignified air, he also looks tormented and gloomy.

He wears a plush red and gold cape with a flamenco lace collar over a buttoned green doublet. His clothing, although splendid, cannot conceal from us his menial position in the court and this is emphasised even more by the fact that this sad diminutive figure is seated on the bare ground and not within the opulence of a court setting. Was it in the mind of the artist, or from the instructions of his patron, that the dwarf, Don Sebastián, should be dressed lavishly so as to portray to us, the viewers, that the jester was well treated and that he enjoyed the best life could give? Are we taken in by that premise?

Bathsheba at her Bath by Rembrandt

My Daily Art Display today features three main characters. Two are women and one a man – the artist. The artist and painter of today’s featured work of art is Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn. I will not go too much into his life story except for when his path crosses one of my two featured women, namely, Hendrickje Stoffels.

Hendrickje Stoffels was born in Bredevoort, which is a small Dutch town close to the border of Germany. Her father Herman worked at the castle at Bredevoort as a sort of gamekeeper. He died in 1646, one of the many victims who perished in the devastating explosion of the town’s gunpowder tower when it was struck by lightening. Her mother re-married six months later to a neighbour who had three young children of his own and Hendrickje had no choice but to leave home and go to Amsterdam. It was here that she first met Rembrandt. At this time Rembrandt had been widowed for some two years. His late wife was Saskia van Uylenburg and she was the cousin of an art dealer Hendrick van Uylenburg at whose house Rembrandt had been lodging and who had carried out a number of commissions. Saskia had actually posed for many of these commissions. Saskia had come from a wealthy family, her father was a lawyer and at one time was the burgermeester of Leeuwarden.

Staue of Hendrickje Stoffels at Bredenvoort

Hendrickje became Rembrandt’s maid and soon after, although twenty years younger than the artist, became his lover. This was frowned upon by the local church and she was brought up before the town council for “living in sin”. So why didn’t they get married? Well the answer was all about money, to be precise, Rembrandt’s money, for on the death of his first wife Saskia he received a sizeable inheritance which he would have to give back to Saskia’s family if he remarried. Rembrandt, even with this inheritance, was suffering financially so the thought of losing his inheritance was unthinkable. The reason why I am mentioning Hendrickje is that she was the model for today’s featured painting.

Now to my second featured woman – Bathsheba who is the subject of today’s oil on canvas painting entitled Bathsheba at her Bath and was painted by Rembrandt in 1654 and which now hangs in The Louvre. The story behind the painting is the Old Testament tale of King David who lusted after Bathsheba after seeing her bathing. She was the wife of Uriah, one of his soldiers, whom he then sends off into battle and orders his generals to abandon him, thus leaving him to certain death. He then makes a play for Bathsheba. The painting depicts Bathsheba having received a letter from King David summoning her. The work of art is an insight into Bathsheba’s moral dilemma – her husband is away in battle and her Lord and Master, the King has summoned her, by letter, to his bedchamber.

The depiction of Bathsheba bathing was not a new idea but most other artists had painted her with her hand maidens as part of an outdoor scene and often incorporated the figure of David surreptitiously gazing at her the naked body. However Rembrandt ignored this standard treatment of the scene and instead we see Bathsheba alone except for her maid who is bathing her feet, in preparation for her encounter with David. David is no longer the voyeur of this painting – maybe in this case we, the viewers, are the voyeurs as we look at Bathsheba’s naked body. This is a life-sized painting (measures 142 cms x 142cms) and the figure of Bathsheba dominates the canvas. In the background we see her abandoned clothes.

Look at Bathsheba. Kenneth Clarke, the author and art historian, is in no doubt about the quality of the figure when he wrote that “it was one of Rembrandt’s greatest painting of a nude”. This figure of Bathsheba is not a figure of perfection. This is no naked beauty we see in magazines. This is simply a woman with a woman’s normal body shape but in my mind it does not lose its sense of eroticism and beauty. Look how the artist has drawn her belly. This is not the flat stomach of a supermodel. This is simple reality. If we talk about the reality of the painting look at her left leg, just below the knee and you can make out the mark made by a garter or stocking top as it clings to the flesh. This is an example of the detail the artist has put into the painting.

She sits their gazing vacantly as the maid bathes her feet. She is lost in her own thoughts. What has made her so pensive? The artist gives us the answer. In her left hand we see her grasping a letter. The letter is her invitation (or is it a royal summons?) to join King David whilst her husband is away in battle. There is her dilemma – remain faithful to her husband and risk the wrath of the king or submit to his sexual overtures and dupe her husband. Look at her facial expression and the sadness in her eyes. She knows she is going to betray her husband and we can perceive her guilty expression.

This is a moralistic painting and maybe we stand in judgement. Do we look at her with an air of condemnation as we know that she goes to King David or do we look at her and sympathize with her because of her dilemma?

That’s it – well not quite as there is a scientific/medical twist to this painting. A number of breast surgeons studied the figure of Hendrickje, the model for Bathsheba and said that the way Rembrandt had drawn her left breast showing a slight deformity was a classic symptom to early stages of breast cancer or it shows an abscess due to tuberculosis. Many medical articles have been written on this matter. However Hendrickje lived for another nine years after this painting and strangely enough, in other of Rembrandt paintings in which she modeled there was no sign of a deformity to her breast!

Portrait of a Young Woman with Loose Hair by Albrecht Dürer

As promised yesterday, today the featured painting in My Daily Art Display today, is Albrecht Dürer’s work entitled Portrait of a Young Fürleger with Long Hair which was also completed in 1497 and was along with yesterday’s portrait, part of the diptych. The two paintings remained together as such until 1830 at which time they were sold privately to different art collectors. As was explained in yesterday’s blog the two portraits purport to be of the daughters of the wealthy Fürleger family of Nuremburg although this fact has since been disputed.

As with the case of yesterday’s portrait this painting bears a similar coat of arms but in this instance, it is an inverted red lily which was similar to the one used by the Fürleger family, albeit theirs was a yellow lily on a blue background. Again, as was the case in yesterday’s portrait it is believed that this coat of arms was added later.

There is a marked contrast between the two portraits. Yesterday’s portrait of the young woman with her hair in braids had part of the background taken up by a window, out of which one could see a countryside landscape. Today there is no such view of the world outside and has a rather sombre, dark, neutral and enclosed background. Art historians believe that this aspect of the two paintings leads us to believe that the woman with the braided hair is a woman who openly welcomes the world and who is either open to offers of betrothal or is indeed already betrothed. On the other hand, today’s young woman has shut herself off from the world. She has renounced the world and its temptations and will pledge her life to Christ’s work in a convent. This is also borne out by her devout pose. Her head is lowered with her hands clasped together in prayer. She seems somewhat shy and retiring and avoids our gaze as she looks downwards.

Our young woman today wears a simple coral bracelet around her left wrist. Her clothes are drabber. The neckline of her chemise is high covering all of the upper part of her chest. This is in complete contrast to the more plunging neckline of the chemise worn by “the young Fürleger with her hair up”. It is interesting to look at the shape of the two girl’s necks. They seem somewhat swollen which has led experts to believe that both may have suffered with thyroid problems.

In today’s portrait the young woman’s hair cascades down over her shoulders. It is a simple style. One could say that it is “as God intended it to be”. A simple headband holds it place allowing us to have an interrupted view of her delightful face. The light comes from her right hand side casting a shadow on the left side of her face. Her lips are closed but there is a hint of a smile. This is indeed a soft and beautiful face and the young woman exudes a demure expression in complete contrast to the expression on the face of yesterday’s young woman which was harder and more worldly-wise.

I have to admit when I looked at the two portraits I initially “fell in love” with the girl with her hair up but on close scrutiny I believe today’s young woman is the more beautiful of the two and the one I would like to meet and get to know. Maybe it is her unavailability that intrigues me and makes me want to know more about her. Maybe it is her gentle expression that has seduced me.

Once again “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, so look at the two images and decide for yourself “who is the fairest of them all”

Portrait of a Young Fürleger with Her Hair Done Up by Albrecht Dürer

Portrait of Young Woman with Her Hair Done Up by Albrecht Dürer (1497)

My Daily Art Display for today is a tempera on canvas portrait by Albrecht Dürer. It is entitled Portrait of a Young Woman (Katharina Fürleger). It was painted in 1497 and can now be found in the Gemäldegalerie, Staatlich Museen, Berlin. This painting is sometimes known as Portrait of a Young Fürleger with Her Hair Done Up, to differentiate it from another portrait by Dürer of a girl with her hair loose, entitled Portrait of a Young Fürleger with Loose Hair, which is on display at the Städelsches Kunstinstitut, Frankfurt.

When the two portraits were hung together they formed part of a diptych but in 1830 they were sold separately and are now looked upon as single portraits. At one time it was thought that both pictures were of the same young woman, namely Katharina Fürleger but nowadays art historians have changed their minds and believe the two paintings are of two different younger sisters of the wealthy Nuremburg Fürleger family. A lot of the finer details of this painting have been totally or partially destroyed during restoration attempts and some of the details of the painting are only known because of Wenceslaus Hollar’s engraving of this painting, which he etched in 1646, before some of the details had been damaged.

We see the young woman sitting by a window, out of which we can just make out an undulating landscape. In the foreground, there is a path leading to a large gate in a wall. Parts of the landscape in the painnting have been totally or partially destroyed during various restoration attempts. Although it cannot be seen in my attached picture the wooden window post on the frame of the window is decorated with a carving of a robed man, possibly a prophet, who is reading a book on which is painted Dürer’s monogram. This also has been partially destroyed but it is known to be part of the original as recorded by the Hollar engraving. Seen from the side, this man used to look towards the other portrait of the diptych, Portrait of a Young Girl with her Hair Down.

The young girl is eighteen years of age. How is that known? The paper or parchment cantellino, which can be seen, fixed to the wall to the right of her head bears an inscription which is not visible on the painting today but Hollar’s engraving shows that the cantellino originally had the inscription:

ALSO PIN ICH GESTALT / IN ACHCEHE JOR ALT / 1497

which translated means:

“This was my appearance when eighteen years old in 1497”

Just below this cantellino one can just make out a small shield hanging by a strap from a nail in the wall. On the shield is an inverted red cross which was similar in design to the Fürleger’s coat of arms – a yellow cross on a blue background.

The young woman is wearing her hair up in large braids wrapped around her head, which often signifies she has reached a marriageable age or is in fact betrothed. Around her head is a pearl-studded headdress which suggests she comes from a wealthy family. Her hands rest on a parapet. In her right hand she delicately holds between finger and thumb a stalk of a plant identified as eryngium, which symbolises fortune and two stalks of southern-wood, also known as Lover’s Plant or Maid’s Ruin, which was used in love potions. Her hands seem slightly deformed as if she is suffering an early onset of arthritis but this may just be the way Dürer painted hands. She wears a red gown, which is partially covering her chemise. The black trim of this chemise has an embroidered series of letters on it which are thought to be part of a motto.

There is just one final twist to the story of this painting. Art historians now say that the shield seen on the wall, which bore a resemblance to the Kürtleger’s family emblem, was added later to the painting as it was not shown in an early copy of the painting, which is now in Leipzig but it did appear in Hollar’s engraving of 1646. It was because of this family emblem that people originally believed it to be a portrait of Katharina Fürleger but there is no record of such a daughter. There was however a daughter, Anna Fürleger, but in 1497, the date of this painting, she was only thirteen years of age.

So is this Katharina Fürleger or should we believe art historian Fedja Anzelewsky, who believes the young woman in both paintings to be Dürer’s sister-in-law Katharina Frey? Others however suggest that the young women in the two portraits are in fact Dürer’s sisters Agnes and Katharina.

Tomorrow I will feature the other painting of the woman, the young woman with her hair loose.

Portrait of a Young Man by Moretto da Brescia

Today I am moving away from the interpretive type of allegorical paintings, which I featured yesterday and which is a genre I really like. Today, although staying with an Italian artist, I am returning to portraiture. Today’s artist is Moretto da Brescia who featured in My Daily Art Display on December 17^th.

Moretto da Brescia was born Alessandro Bonvicino around 1498 at Rovato, a town in the province of Brescia in Lombardy. He studied first under Fioravante Ferramola of Brescia and later with Titian in Venice. He was the leading Brescia painter of the day and concentrated his works on religious subjects mainly producing altarpieces and other religious works. Today’s painting in My Daily Art Display is simply entitled Portrait of a Young Man which Moretto completed around 1450 and which now hangs in the National Gallery London.

The subject of today’s painting is thought to be Count Fortunato Martinengo Cesaresco who was a member of a branch of Brescia’s most important noble family. He was also a leading literary figure in Brescia and was founder of the Accademia dei Dubbiosi in 1551 and friend of the Venetian humanist and Italian theorist of paintings, Lodovicio Dolce. The count married in 1542 and this portrait could well have been done around the time of his betrothal and been a gift for his bride.

The painting has a background almost completely dominated by a heavy maroon and gold brocade curtain with its pomegranate and carnation design. The count is depicted lavishly if somewhat flamboyantly dressed in this portrait, . There is no doubting his wealth and nobility. On the table to the left of him are some rare ancient coins, one of which is in an open ivory case, which gives the impression that he may have been a collector of such items. Lying next to them is also a bronze oil lamp in the shape of a sandalled foot. Hanging over the edge of the table we can see a pair of grey leather gloves. He is half sitting, half slumped as he rests his right elbow on a couple of pink tasselled taffeta cushions whilst his right hand supports his face. Look at his face. What does his facial expression convey to you? To my mind we are not looking at a happy contented man. Wealth has brought him neither satisfaction nor happiness. It is a look of a man who is melancholic and his eyes seem to suggest that he does not know how to lift his depression. Does he know what is causing this depression or is he one of those unfortunate people who feel depressed but are not sure what has brought about such depression? Maybe we get an incline of his problem. On his black velvet cap is a cap badge with the Greek words which translate as:

“Alas I deserve too much”

So how do we translate those words in relation to the Count? Is it referring to his dilemma as a collector that he knows no matter how wealthy he is, he will never be able to possess all the prized items he needs for his collection to be complete. All collectors will empathise with this sentiment. Some art historians would rather put a more romantic slant on his melancholic expression and the inscription on his cap badge. They believe that as this painting was a gift to his wife he is indicating pictorially to her that no matter how much treasure he owns, nothing will take away the pain of separation from his beloved.

This is a sumptuous painting and a magnificent portrait. However, I will leave you to decide what is causing his anguish.