Category Archives: Prose

Head of a Child {Story of Art}

Head of a Child. Peter Paul Rubens. 1615.

“[T]hat was the great secret of Ruben’s art—his magic skill in making anything alive, intensely and joyfully alive. We can best gauge and admire this mastery of his in some of the simple drawings and paintings done for his own pleasure. ['Head of a Child'] shows the head of a little girl, probably Rubens’s daughter. There are no tricks of composition here, no splendid robes or streams of light, but a simple en face portrait of a child. And yet it seems to breathe and palpitate like living flesh. Compared with this, the portraits of earlier centuries seem somehow remote and unreal—however great they may be as works of art. It is vain to try to analyze how Rubens achieved this impression of gay vitality, but it surely had something to do with the bold and delicate touches of light with which he indicated the moisture of the lips and the modeling of the face and hair. To an even greater degree than Titian before him, he used the brush as his main instrument. His paintings are no longer drawing carefully modeled in color—they are produced by ‘painterly’ means, and that enhances the impression of life and vigor.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 19: Vision and Visions,” The Story of Art, 5th edition

St. George and the Dragon {Story of Art}

St. George and the Dragon. Tintoretto. 1560.

“[Tintoretto's] painting of St. George’s fight with the dragon, in London, shows how the weird light and the broken tones add to the feeling of tension and excitement. We feel the drama has just reached its climax. The princess seems to be rushing right out of the picture towards us while the hero is removed, against all rules, far into the background of the scene…

Vasari, a great Florentine critic and biographer of the period… thought the work was marred by careless execution and eccentric taste. He was puzzled by the lack of ‘finish’ Tintoretto gave his work. ‘His sketches,’ he says, ‘are so crude that his pencil strokes show more force than judgment and seem to have been made by chance.’ It is a reproach which from that time onwards has often been made against modern artists. Perhaps this is not altogether surprising, for these great innovators in art have often concentrated on the essential things and refused to worry about technical perfection in the usual sense. In periods like that of Tintoretto, technical excellence had reached such a high standard that anyone with some mechanical aptitude could master some of its tricks. A man like Tintoretto wanted to show things in a new light, he wanted to explore new ways of representing the legends and myths of the past. He considered his painting complete when he had conveyed his vision of the legendary scene. A smooth and careful finish did not interest him, for it did not serve his purpose. On the contrary—it might have distracted our attention from the dramatic happenings of the picture. So he left it at that and left people wondering.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 18: A Crisis of Art,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

Adam and Eve {The Story of Art}

“It may not be easy for us to see immediately the achievement which lay in this engraving. For the artist is speaking a language which is less familiar to him… The harmonious forms at which he arrived by diligent measuring and balancing with compass and ruler are not as convincing and beautiful as their Italian and classical models. There is some slight suggestion of artificiality, not only in their form and posture, but also in the symmetrical composition. But this first feeling of awkwardness soon disappears when one realizes that Dürer has not abandoned his real self to worship new idols, as lesser artists did. As we let him guide us into the Garden of Eden… and as we notice how Dürer has contrived to let the clear outline of their white and delicately modeled bodies show up against the dark shade of the forest with its rugged trees, we come to admire the first serious attempt to transplant the ideals of the south into northern soil”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 17: The New Learning Spreads,” The Story of Art, 15th edition

The Holy Night {The Story of Art}

“The painter who was looked upon by later generations as the most ‘progressive’ and most daring innovator of the whole period [early sixteenth century]… was Antonio Allegri, called Correggio… [H]e worked out entirely new effects [of light and shade] which greatly influenced later schools of painters…

“At first sight the arrangement looks quite artless and casual. The crowded scene on the left does not seem to be balanced by any corresponding group on the right. It is balanced through the emphasis which the light gives to the group of the Virgin and the Child. Correggio even more than Titian exploited the discovery that color and light can be used to balance forms and to direct our eyes along certain lines. It is we who rush to the scene with the shepherd and who are made to see what he sees—the miracle of the Light that shone in the darkness of which the Gospel of St. John speaks.”

Ernst H. Gombrich, “Chapter 16: Light and Color,” The Story of Art, 15th century

Sistine Chapel Ceiling {Story of Art}

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

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

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

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

The Betrothal of Arnolfini {The Story of Art}

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

Très Riches Heures {The Story of Art}

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

The Mourning of Christ {The Story of Art}

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