Showing posts with label art books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art books. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

wild strokes and tinny figures



To many such in this country modern art is still a closed book; its point of view is so different from that of the art they have been brought up with, that they refuse to have anything to do with it. Whereas, if they only took the trouble to find out something of the point of view of the modern artist, they would discover new beauties they little suspected ... If anybody looks at a picture by Claude Monet from the point of view of a Raphael, he will see nothing but a meaningless jargon of wild paint-strokes. And if anybody looks at a Raphael from the point of view of a Claude Monet, he will, no doubt, only see hard, tinny figures in a setting devoid of any of the lovely atmosphere that always envelops form seen in nature. So wide apart are some of the points of view in painting.  -- The Practice and Science of Drawing (Harold Speed, 1913)


Pictured:  Allegory (The Knight's Dream)  -- Raphael (circa 1504), National Gallery - London; and Irises -- Claude Monet (circa 1914), National Gallery - London

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

maybe he was hiding out in jersey?

"In 1949, five years after its disappearance from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a small, fourteenth century wood panel of Saint Thomas attributed to the workshop of the Sienese painter Simone Martini was returned.  The thief either was unable to dispose of it, grew tired of it, or became remorseful.  He wrapped it in a few layers of tissue covered by brown paper and mailed it back, with the museum's address in block letters and a fictitious return address."

Excerpted from The Art Stealers, Milton Esterow (Macmillan Publishing, 1973)

Pictured:  Saint Thomas -- Simone Martini, circa 1317–19, The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Workshop of Simone Martini (Italian, Siena, active by 1315–died 1344 Avignon)
Date: ca. 1317–19
- See more at: http://www.metmuseum.org/search-results?ft=simone+martini&x=0&y=0&rpp=10&pg=1#sthash.9TuDaYTu.dpuf
Workshop of Simone Martini (Italian, Siena, active by 1315–died 1344 Avignon)
Date: ca. 1317–19
- See more at: http://www.metmuseum.org/search-results?ft=simone+martini&x=0&y=0&rpp=10&pg=1#sthash.9TuDaYTu.dpuf
Workshop of Simone Martini (Italian, Siena, active by 1315–died 1344 Avignon)
Date: ca. 1317–19
- See more at: http://www.metmuseum.org/search-results?ft=simone+martini&x=0&y=0&rpp=10&pg=1#sthash.ogW9pOlw.dpuf

Sunday, May 20, 2012

vibration of colors

"How to define my attitude towards Tamayo's work?  Rotation, gravitation:  it attracts me, and at the same time, it keeps me at a distance--like a sun...little by little, with slow, stubborn self-assurance, it unfolds and becomes a fan of sensations, a vibration of colors and of forms that spread in waves...."

Octavio Paz, Essays on Mexican Art (Harcourt Brace & Co., 1993)

Pictured:  Las músicas dormidas -- Rufino Tamayo, 1950 (Museo de Arte Moderno)

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

musings on camille


Mary Mathews Gedo's Monet and His Muse (University of Chicago Press) examines the pivotal relationship between French Impressionist master Claude Monet and his first wife Camille. Before Monet's ascent to fame and eternal association with water lilies, haystacks and Giverny, the artist was just another aspiring young painter full of ambition and conflict. He was rebellious and enjoyed la vie bohème, but he also needed his father's financial support. "I wish you see you in an atelier, under the discipline of a well-known master," Adolphe Monet cautioned his son. "If you resume your independence, I will stop your allowance without more ado."

Though Monet obeyed and worked with mentors for a while, fortunately he and his fellow Impressionists kept enough of their independent spirit and vision to change the world of art. Monet also became involved with a dark-haired, quietly beautiful young woman named Camille Doncieux, a liaison which would have highs and lows for both parties. Camille proved to be an excellent muse; she was perceptive and receptive, able to tolerate Monet's mood swings and to pose for long stretches of time. She bolstered his confidence and satisfied his romantic desires, and she was devoted to helping him succeed. Camille's distinctive stance in the 1866 Woman in a Green Dress brought Monet quite a bit of favorable attention at the annual Paris Salon, and she would later grace the canvases of other memorable Monet paintings like The Red Kerchief, Springtime and La Japonaise.

And then Camille became pregnant. Monet was thrown into turmoil, faced with the possibility of being cut off financially by his family and having to support a wife and baby. He fought the obligation for as long as he could yet apparently upon first seeing his newborn "big beautiful boy" Jean, Monet relented and gave his son his legitimate name. In Camille's case, despite her eventual marriage to the father of her child, her role as Madame Monet would not always be an easy one.

Monet and His Muse is a fine read for Monet lovers, especially those prepared to accept a somewhat flawed reflection of the genius. (But what genius is not flawed?) A fascinating chapter in collaboration with artist William Conger analyzes Monet's 1868 On the Bank of the Seine, Bennecourt (currently at the Art Institute of Chicago), reexamining the painting in terms of its various incarnations and underlying layers, and in context of Monet's feelings toward his wife and son at the time—and possible need for creative catharsis.

Camille Monet died in 1879, about a year after the birth of her second son, Michel. The cause was presumed to be complications from cervical cancer, and at Camille's deathbed was Alice Hoschedé, the then-wife of Monet's patron Ernest Hoschedé. Alice later became Monet's wife and evidently felt compelled to destroy nearly every photograph or document connected to her no longer-living rival. Alice wasn't able to destroy the paintings, however, and so Camille's artistic legacy continues. The grieving Monet even painted Camille in repose following her death, perhaps again looking for creative catharsis and closure.

The woman who truly wore the green gown has always cast such an intriguing backward glance towards us all, and Ms. Gedo's book offers a rich companion narrative and adds new dimensions to the mystery of Camille and her many portraits.