All posts by Larkrise

Painting, Prose

Sistine Chapel Ceiling {Story of Art}

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Sistine Chapel Ceiling. Michelangelo Buonarroti. 1512.

“[The Italian artist] was no longer a craftsman among craftsman, ready to carry out commissions… He was a master in his own right, who could not achieve fame  without exploring the mysteries of nature and probing into the secret laws of the universe. It was natural that the leading artists  who had these ambitions felt aggrieved by their social status… Here was another challenge for the artists to meet, another spur which urged them on towards yet greater achievements that would compel the surrounding world to accept them… as men of unique and precious gifts… It was the love of fame on the part of the patrons which helped the artists to break down such prejudices… As there were many centers competing for the services of the most renowned masters, the masters in turn could dictate their terms. In earlier times it was the prince who bestowed his favors on the artist. Now it almost came to pass that the roles were reversed, and that the artist granted a favor to a rich prince or potentate by accepting a commission from him. Thus it came about that the artists could frequently choose the kind of commission which they like, and that they no longer needed to accommodate their works to the whims and fancies of their employers. Whether this new power was an unmixed blessings for art in the long run is difficult to decide. But at first, at any rate, it had the effect of a liberation which released a tremendous amount of pent-up energy. At last, the artist was free.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 15: Harmony Attained,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Painting, Prose

The Descent from the Cross {The Story of Art}

Descent from the Cross. Rogier van der Weyden. 1435.

“Rogier [van der Weyden], like Jan van Eyck, could faithfully reproduce every detail, every hair and every stitch. Nevertheless, his picture [The Descent from the Cross] does not represent a real scene. He has placed his figures on a kind of shallow stage against a neutral background. Remembering Pollaiuolo’s problems [with The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian], we can appreciate the wisdom of Rogier’s decision. He, too, had to make a large altar-painting to be seen from afar, and had to display the sacred theme to the faithful in the church. It has to be clear in outline, and satisfying as a pattern. Rogier’s picture fulfills these requirements without looking forced and self-conscious as does Pollaiouolo’s… In this way, by translating the main ideas of Gothic art into the new, lifelike style, Rogier did a great service to northern art. He saved much of the tradition of lucid design that might otherwise have been lost under the impact of Jan van Eyck’s discoveries. Henceforward northern artists tried, each in his own way, to reconcile the new demands on art with its old religious purpose.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 14: Tradition and Innovation: The North,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Painting, Prose

The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian {The Story of Art}

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The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian. Antonio Pollaiuolo. 1457.

“[A]rtists in Florence became increasingly aware of the new problems that [their] inventions had created. In the first place flush of triumph they may have thought that the discovery of perspective and the study of nature could solve all difficulties which are presented. But we must not forget that art is altogether different from science. The artist’s means, his technical devices, can be developed, but art itself can hardly be said to progress in the way in which science progresses. Each discovery in one direction creates a new difficulty somewhere else… As soon as the new concept of making pictures a mirror of reality was adopted [the] question of how to arrange the figures was no longer so easy to solve. In reality figures do not group themselves harmoniously, nor do they stand out clearly against a neutral background. In other words, there was a danger that the new power of the artist would ruin his most precious gift of creating a pleasing and satisfying whole… [The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian] show the way in which… Antonio Pollaiuolo tried to solve this new problem of making a picture both accurate in draughstmanship and harmonious in composition. It is one of the first attempts of its kind to solve this question, not by tact and instinct alone, but by the application of definite rules. It may not be an altogether successful attempt, nor is it a very attractive picture, but it shows clearly how deliberately the Florentine artists set about it…

“Once art had chosen the path of vying with nature, there was no turning back…”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 13: Tradition and Innovation: Italy,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Painting, Poetry

The Annunciation

The Annunciation. Fra Angelico. 1440.

 

The Annunciation

Denise Levertov

 

Hail, space for the uncontained God.—Agathistos Hymn, Greece

 

We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,

almost always a lectern, a book; always

the tall lilly.

Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,

the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,

whom she acknowledges, a guest. But we are told of meek

obedience. No one mentions

courage.

The engendering Spirit

did not enter her without consent.

God waited. She was free

to accept or to refuse, choice

integral to humanness.

 

Aren’t there annunciations

of one sort or another

in most lives?

Some unwillingly

undertake great destinies,

enact them in sullen pride,

uncomprehending.

More often

those moments

when roads of light and storm

open from darkness in a man or woman,

are turned away from

in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair

and with relief.

Oridnary lives continue.

God does not smite them.

But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.

 

She had been a child who played, ate, slept

like any other child—but unlike others,

wept only for pity, laughed

in joy not triumph.

Compassion and intelligence fused in her, indivisible.

 

Called to a destiny more momentous

than any in all of Time,

she did not quail,

only asked

a simple, ‘How can this be?’

and gravely, courteously,

took to heart the angel’s reply,

perceiving instantly

the astounding ministry she was offered: to bear in her womb

Infinite weight and lightness; to carry

in hidden, finite inwardness,

nine months of Eternity; to contain

in slender vase of being,

the sum of power—

in narrow flesh,

the sum of light.

The bring to birth,

push out into air, a Man-child

needing, like any other,

milk and love—but who was God.

Painting, Prose

The Betrothal of Arnolfini {The Story of Art}

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The Betrothal of Arnolfini. Jan van Eyck. 1434.

“If we want to understand the way in which northern art developed we must appreciate [the] infinite care and patience of Jan van Eyck. Van Eyck… achieved the illusion of nature by adding detail upon detail till his whole picture became like a mirror of the visible world…

“Probably [Van Eyck] was asked to record [the betrothal of Arnolfini] as a witness, just as a notary might be asked to declare that he has been present at a similar solemn act… We do not know whether it was the Italian merchant or the northern artist who conceived the idea of making this use of the new kind of painting, which may be compared to the legal use of a photograph, properly endorsed by a witness. Whoever it was that originated  this idea, he had certainly been quick to understand the tremendous possibilities which lay in Van Eyck’s new way of painting. For the first time in history the artist had become the perfect eye-witness.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 12: The Conquest of Reality,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Painting, Prose

Très Riches Heures {The Story of Art}

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May (from Très Riches Heures). Paul and Jean Limbourgh. 1410.

“The artists of the International Style applied [power of observation and delight in delicate and beautiful things], to their portrayal of the world around them… Formerly it was sufficient training to learn the ancient formulas for representing the main figures of the sacred story and to apply this knowledge in ever-new combinations. Now the artist’s task included a different skill. He had to be able to make studies from nature and to transfer them to pictures. He began to use a sketchbook, and to lay up a store of sketches of rare and beautiful plants and animals… The public which looked at the artist’s works began to judge them by the skill with which nature was portrayed, and by the wealth of attractive details which the artist managed to bring into his pictures.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Courtiers and Burghers,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Painting, Poetry

Aubade: The Annunciation

The Annunciation. Simone Martini and Lippo Memmi. 1333.

 

Aubade: The Annunciation

Thomas Marian, 1946

 

When the dim light, at Lauds, comes strike her window,

Bellsong falls out of Heaven with a sound of glass.

 

Prayers fly in the mind like larks,

Thoughts hide in the height like hawks:

And while the country churches tell their blessings to the distance,

Her slow words move

(Like summer winds the wheat) her innocent love:

Desires glitter in her mind

Like morning stars:

 

Until her name is suddenly spoken

Like a meteor falling.

 

She can no longer hear shrill day

Sing in the east,

Nor see the lovely woods begin to toss their manes.

The rivers have begun to sing.

The little clouds shine in the sky like little girls:

She has no eyes to see their faces.

 

Speech of an angel shines in the waters of her thought like diamonds,

Rides like a sunburst on the hillsides of her heart.

 

And is brought home like harvests,

Hid in her house, and stores

Like the sweet summer’s riches in our peaceful barns.

 

But in the world of March outside her dwelling,

The farmers and the planters

Fear to begin their sowing, and its lengthy labor,

Where, on the brown, bare furrows,

The winter wind still croons as dumb as pain.

Architecture, Poetry, Stain Glass

The Windows

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Saint Chapelle Church. Paris, France. 1250.

 

The Windows

George Herbert

 

Lord, how can a man preach thy eternal word?

He is a brittle crazy glass:

Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford

This glorious and transcendent place,

To be a window, through thy grace.

 

But when thou dost anneal in glass thy story,

Making thy life to shine within

The holy Preacher’s; then the light and glory

More rev’rend grows, and more doth win:

Which else shows wat’rish, bleak, and thin.

 

Doctrine and life, colors and ight, in one

When they combine and mingle, bring

A strong regard and awe: but speech alone

Doth vanish like a flaring thing,

And in the ear, not conscience ring.

Painting, Prose

The Mourning of Christ {The Story of Art}

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The Mourning of Christ. Giotto di Bondone. 1306.

“For Giotto, [his rediscovery of creating illusion of depth on a flat surface] was not only a trick to be displayed for its own sake. It enabled him to change the whole conception of painting. Instead of using the methods of picture-writing he could create the illusion as if the sacred story were happening before our very eyes… He followed the advice of friars who exhorted the people in their sermons to visualize in their mind, when reading the Bible and the legends of the saints, what it must have looked like when a carpenter’s family fled to Egypt or when the Lord was nailed to the cross. He did not rest till he had thought it all out afresh: how would a man stand, how would he act, if he took part in such an event? Moreover, how would such a gesture or movement present itself to our eyes?…

“Painting, for [Giotto], is more than a substitute for the written word. We seem to witness the real event as if it were enacted on a stage… We remember that early Christian art had reverted to the old Oriental idea that to tell a story clearly every figure had to be shown completely, almost as was done in Egyptian art. Giotto abandoned these ideas. He shows us so convincingly how each figure reflects the grief of the tragic scene that we sense the same grief in the cowering figures whose faces are hidden from us.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 10: The Church Triumphant,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Prose, Stain Glass

Cologne Cathedral {The Story of Art}

Birth of Christ. Cologne Cathedral. 1280.

“[W]e must realize how great the possibilities were that opened up before the artists as soon as they finally discarded all ambition to represent things as we see them… And as the artist could dispense with an illusion of space or dramatic action he could arrange his figures on purely ornamental lines. Painting was indeed on the way to becoming a form of writing in pictures; but this return to more simplified methods of representation gave the artist of the Middle Ages a new freedom to experiment with more complex forms of composition… Without these methods the teachings of the Church could never have been translated into visible shape.

“As with forms so with colors. As the artists no longer felt obliged to study and imitate the real gradations of shades that occur in nature they were free to choose any color they liked for their illustrations. The bright gold and luminous blues of their goldsmiths’ works, the intense colors of their book illuminations, the glowing red and deep greens of their stained glass windows show that these master put their independence of nature to good use. It was this freedom from the need to imitate the natural world that was to enable them to convey the idea of the supernatural.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 9: The Church Militant,” The Story of Art, 15th edition