La Galerie Esther Woederhoff (ici) présente jusqu’au 7 juillet (il est temps de se presser) les travaux de Carla van de Puttelaar, Kumi Ogoro et Monique Jacot.

Carla van de Puttelaar (son site ici) commence à être connue (vous pouvez voir son travail dans Photos Nouvelles n°55 de janvier-février 2009) et, pour ma part je suis fan. Elle présentait trois travaux déjà vus en format carré ( 3 200 euros encadrés) mais surtout le clou de l’exposition, à savoir 9  petits formats verticaux (79*39) de sa série Cranach (2 250 euros non encadrés). Ces tirages existent aussi grandeur nature en 205 * 78. Regardez le type de modèle (sa conformation, sa carnation, etc), la tenue portée (ou son absence), le fond toujours noir, la position des pieds et des mains et regardez aussi le reste de la série. A côté, deux Vénus de Cranach.

Kumi Ogoro (son site ici) montrait de grands formats (100*100) sous Diasec (2 300 euros en éditions de  5). L’illustration ci-dessous est montrée sur l’expo mais hélas pas celle que je préfère, plus énigmatique (ici). J’avais déjà vu son travail dans l’autre revue francophone de référence (en fait trilingue car belge), View Photography Magazine (leur site ici).

Ces deux photographes ont été publiés chez Le caillou Bleu, encore une référence belge à retenir (site ici). Chez eux j’ai acheté le bouquin de Frank Rothe, Running Through The Wind.Tant que j’y suis je mentionne aussi Husson comme éditeur belge de livres de photos (leur site ici). Chez eux, j’ai acheté  Rhizome oriental de Philippe Herbet. Je vous conseille naturellement ces deux bouquins.

Dans ce contexte, le travail de Monique Jacot (de petits noirs et blancs argentique en 30*40 à 900 euros) paraissait un peu décalé et, pour tout dire, la génération 1934 (Monique) semblait un peu dépassée ou, au moins, pas à sa place, aux côtés des générations 1967 (Carla) et 1972 (Kumi). Son parcours brièvement résumé se trouve ici.

Allez voir cette expo, c’est jusqu’au 7 juillet 2009.

This is going to be a very partial and personal description, my journey so you get notes on just what I wanted to comment on at the time, some of it just a listing. Using my new card for the first time in one of my favourite galleries I sailed past the cash desk and two minutes later I had decided to make notes so I left the gallery for the gift shop, thinking that was a record even for me then back past the girl on the cash desk for a second time.

Ground Floor

The Ivories: there is a case containing wonderful miniature carved ivory medieval panel diptychs and triptychs, the figures are tiny and just once or twice you can see where the original colour still clings and though faded you get a little idea of how ornate and bright these might have been. The three or 2 sided screens would have been unfolded and held in the hand or put on a table to create a portable and private alter to help prayer or meditation. Paris was where most of the ivory carving and trade was carried out.

The Stairwell

I’ve been here a few times but as I’m phobic about stairs I find the building slightly unsettling. It’s a fabulous grand stone building smaller not stately in size, the circular stone staircase clings to the wall as it spirals up to each level with a polished wood banister and a school uniform blue wrought iron ornate railing. If I could walk up and down such a staircase I’m sure I’d feel very grand as it is I feel like a coward as go up and down in the lift.

First Floor

• Monet – Antibes

A landscape of a tree swaying in the breeze in front of the sea on a sunny day. He was an impressionist and as such he liked to paint outdoors and so I was told as an impressionist he used no black paint.

• Renoir – La Loge

A woman faces us, she sits in an opera box, her male companion is holding opera glasses to his eyes looking upwards, that is obviously not at the stage. This is showing the importance of the opera as an event where the audience getting seen is, to this moneyed class, more important than seeing the stage. I read once that the woman was a paid model / prostitute and the man was Renoir’s brother).

• Manet – The Banks of the Seine at Argenteuil

.There are two figures standing on the bank looking at moored sail boats in the water, the figures are a little girl and her mother who are probably the painter Monet’s wife and daughter. Monet was at one point in his life very very poor and was given somewhere to live by his friend Manet. The use of black in the portrait shows that while he shared a lot of the impressionists views on painting he did not agree with all of them.

• · Manet – Le Dejuner Sur L’herbe.

I’ve read a lot about this painting how it shocked audiences and caused a scandal. It shows a forest clearing with a small river in the background a lightly clad woman is there bending to the water to wash, in the foreground three figures are having a picnic they are relaxed and chatting, the two men are looking towards each other the woman is looking out at us, and she is naked.

Before this painting there had of course been paintings of nude women before however the honourable convention or ridiculous artifice depending on your opinion was that naked woman were only portrayed only in classical or religious contexts, the classic / religious backdrop making the act of looking at a painting of naked female flesh an act of either scholarly interest in the classical form or an act of religious piety. By placing his nude in an the common setting of picnic Manet caused outrage as he thereby removed the convention and forced the viewer to recognise they were looking at nudity for it’s own sake – this being highlighted as the nude in the picture faces outwards looking at the viewer looking at her.

I wondered if Manet was also making a statement about women’s place in society but I suspect the power dynamics of the scene probably did not occur to him, especially as the models for the picture were probably prostitutes as might the nudes in the painting be meant to be – another reason for its shock value to the audiences of the day.

Cezanne – Route Tourant.

Which encompasses a lot of bare canvas into its finished work, this painting was a major influence on painters who came after.

• Cezanne – The Card Players.

· Gaugin – I am not a fan of Gaugin

• Cezanne – Le Lac D’anney. I like the colours how they blend the visible brushstrokes, there is lovely restfulness to the scene

• Modigliani – Female Nude .

This is one of my favourite paintings; it’s the painting that got me interested in art and certainly the reason for my first visit to the Courtauld a few years ago. I was inspired to find out more about his art, then his life and from there I went on to learn a bit about the artists that were his contempories in Paris such as Picasso. Modi, as he was known to his friends was born in Italy in Livorgno in 1860 he lived his adult years in Paris, from having contracted tuberculosis as a child he remained vulnerable to poor health which he certainly paid little respect to as he lived a poverty ravaged alcohol and drug saturated wild life. Charismatic and good looking he feasted on the Parisian artist lifestyle. He believed that artists were a breed apart from the common man that they had heightened status but they also suffered for their art. He had a deep understanding of the classical art history and styles and a love of African carvings that he saw in Paris museums, his painting bring these features together his portraits have wonderful classical beauty which he stretched to long aquiline avant gaurdeness.

This nude is standing up though leaning gently back on a wall or something indistinct, in his oft used style Modi causes her to dominate the canvas whose lower edge cuts her off at mid thigh level. In fact her position is blooming uncomfortable, I’ve tried modelling it, her face is turned slightly to one side and downwards while her shoulder on that side is raised, it’s not an easy position to maintain and I assume her slightly flushed face with grey tinges is sign of discomfort in his model. Actually she is quite beautiful with long dark hair, full breasts a narrow waist and plumpish hips.

· Van Gogh: Self Portrait With a Bandaged Ear.

I love the vibrancy in the brushstrokes and the use of colour.

An aside to myself: Even on a cloudy and dull Saturday in the tourist season of June the Courtauld isn’t crowded it’s lovely and easy to wander around. Apart from the old man whose just walked and stopped right in front of me to read the same information card of the 14/15^th century Belini painting I was reading. This painting is to ancient for my taste but I enjoy seeing from what ‘my’ art evolved.

· Raphael: The Holy Family With St John the Baptist. Purchased by the Art Fund – yeah I already feel part of this.

Aside: the old man did it again and this time I was standing closer to the text ! Grrr I do try to be patient with tourists London needs them I know but this one is trying my patience.

· Lucas Cranach the elder: Adam and Eve (1526)

Question, When did canvasses first come into use? This is oil paint on panel. It seems very modern to me, I like the stylised way it is painted and it’s bright colours especially the bright round rosy apples. Adam is scratching his head and is in danger of having his privates twanged by a deer’s antler. Eve’s hair is weird, that’s got to be extensions. Adam looks like a bit of a dullard while Eve looks devious – no change there then as we go down the centuries.

· Peter Paul Rubens: Portrait of Baldassare Castiglione (after Raphael). I do like Rubens used of light and shade, the soft light making the face seem very real. This painting was a copy Rubens did of one by Raphael but it was a piece of artistic challenging to his contemporary Raphael as his version outdid that of Raphael’s by the painting of the hands of the sitter which Raphael had hidden in his version.

Aside: This is the last time old man !

· Rubens: The Family of Jan Brugel the elder 1613

• Peter Brugel the elder: Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery 1565.

This small painting is done using the technique grisaille, which is painting in shades of grey only. It’s amazing, ghostly and precise.

· The Harpsichord in the centre of the room is from the 17^th century, highly decorated.

Aside: I creep around the landing avoiding looking at the central well and the circling staircase, beautiful but scary.

The Second Floor

· Edgar Degas: Sculpture, several bronze figurines of ballet dancers.

1. Preparation to Dance
2. Dancer at Rest, Hands behind her back, Right leg forward
3. Spanish Dancer (I like this one particularly)
4. Dancer looking at Right Foot (this one was my favourite).

The corps de ballet was a very poor position to be in and the dancers often made more money by being models for the artistic community in Paris, with or without their clothes on, in or out of their beds.

• Toulouse-Lautrec: Jane Avril in the Entrance to the Moulin Rouge. 1892.

I like the indistinctness, the brush strokes, the use of colour. If ever she saw this painting I think she’d have enjoyed it. Jane was a performer at the Moulin Rouge and a friend, patron and model for Toulouse.

· Manet: At the Ball. 1877. I like this one a lot

Maurice Vlaminck: Reclining Nude, 1905.

This is fauvist painting a term derived by an art critic who didn’t like the new and startling work Mattisse, Derain and others, the critic thought the artists had become like wild beasts (fauvists). They were experimenting with colour, divorcing it from being representational – why paint a beach with yellow sand when red would be vibrant and expressive. They noticed that shadows can have colour and instead of painting shadows in muted greys they used the dynamic variations of the colour they saw or wanted to see. I like the dynamism of fauvist work, the impact it has. But why must she have such a white face, is she wearing a cold cream face mask?

· Henri Matisse: Woman in a Kimono, 1906. I like the pink patterning on her face and the green shadows. The model is Matisse’s wife.

• Henri Matisse: The Red Beach, 1905

I think that Camille Paglia would like this painting—with its sheeny, armored Apollonian males and naughty nudie graces.

These two males have paused, dangerously, in the pagan wilderness, and like Mars, are about to be relieved of their clothes by these clearly plotting and cunning Venuses.

In the upper right of the painting, a civilizational refuge is far off in the blue haze, and insignificant.

The men will not be saved by it.

Cupid (in the upper left hand corner) will win the day—and the horse, tethered to his phallus-like branch, gives us a sideway look that tells us that he knows the score. 

Wildness is about to be released to breathe new life into these two older male geezers.

Viva Viagra.

The bushes gently sway in the wind behind the windows. The early morning sun is heating up the day. Kids from the school yell happily and I stare on the patchwork of the tarmac. Men in work gear pass by chatting and making jokes. Some with woolen beanies that show how early they get up. And how the wind gets into their shacks.
A dove on the rooftop gurrs, purrs and schnurrs, whatever doves do, and I feel at home at a place I did not use to like: my desk. I lean back, my fingers on the keypad, my eyes raised to the high clouds that seem to drift into space. Where am I and what am I doing?
My writing I remember now has never been about writing, never been about the written and then published book. The joy was always in the act and even more in the transformation of the world through me. Me the vessel of inspiration. It’s almost as if I am a part of a machinery but able to see with awe how the mysteries of life are created anew in art. I do not even have to write it down.
Every day there are stories and movies made in my conscience, all off them on the fly and never recorded. I paint with the wild and pungent smell of oil colours in my mind and the wind just takes the pictures away. What I write down and draw is only a glimpse of what is possible.
I am at home and I have to write something down like lighting a match and feeling the burst of ignition. The steady flame thereafter is what has been written and I do not want to diminish it. But I love this fire of transformation from life to art.
Life is greater then art I used to think. And it is not a wrong conclusion. I love my children more then anything ever written about them. And greater then any tableau was the life of those portrayed by Vermeer or Cranach. Art is a joy, life is a mystery.
But what fire must they have seen in the painters eyes. The excitement that life and meaning can be captured for a moment.
I cried when in Sean Penn’s film “Into the wild” the boy realizes that happiness has to be shared. He is starving in his magic bus, his search for truth led him far away into solitude. Now he knows that the awe for the greatness of live has to be shared. It’s to late for him to return, he will lose his life. But at least he can write it down. He is not alone.

5 luglio, 2006 Lisbona

Salomè ha la stola di pelliccia ed anche il cappello. La foggia della veste con una sorta di reggibusto a righe, denota un’appartenenza non solo al tempo del pittore (cosa peraltro comune), ma al luogo di provenienza dello stesso. Sembra un’opera misogina. La faccia del Battista, portata su un piatto da cui emerge il rosso del taglio e l’interno che ne fuoriesce, è come protesa nel piacere. Quasi l’avesse tranciato nel pieno dell’amplesso. In fondo anche lo sguardo di Salomè, che mira al fascio di luce in cui è immersa la sua figura nei contorni sbiadisce nel buio per emergere nel bianco cangiante della pelle dei fiamminghi, sembra lo sguardo di una donna soddisfatta da un acquisto, dal potere o da qualcosa di materiale.

Dzien czwarty w Londynie przeznaczam na National Gallery. Spodziewam sie wielkiej uczty i …nie zawodze sie nic a nic. Jest lepiej niz sobie wyobrazalam. Coraz bardziej wniebowzieta przechodze z sali do sali, zatrzymuje sie przed ukochanymi dzielami, wycwiczonymi na pamiec przez moje 5letnie oczeta pod polka z albumami rodzicow, czy potem wykutymi na blache na zajeciach z historii sztuki w liceum plastycznym i pare lat pozniej na poznanskim UAMie… Notuje w notesie wrazenia, pozeram fragmenty arcydziel i jednoczesnie coraz mocniej smarkam…Pech chcial, ze wlasnie tego dnia moj londynski katar osiagnal swoje apogeum. Wsciekla na swoj nos i los, co chwile przysiadam na lawach muzealnych, wyciagam z przepastnej torby kolejna paczke chusteczek i oczyszczam przeklete dziurki… Kozioroga natura bardzo mi pomaga zniesc dzielnie niedogodnosci zdrowotne i pomimo kataru i stanu podgoraczkowego – do samego konca badam zachwycajace obrazy….

Przystanek pierwszy – “Ambasadorowie” Holbeina. Zabieg z czaszka ( anamorfoza, heh zajecia z mgr. Rzadkiem owocuja po latach) interesujacy ale tak walkowany przez kilku profesorow na UAMie, ze nie robi ( nawet na zywo) zbyt wielkiego wrazenia. Wielkie wrazenie robi za to “Christ taking leave of this Mother” Hubera i obraz pod tym samym tytulem Altdorfera. Zwlaszcza potraktowanie ( bardzo wspolczesne) postaci  na tym drugim…Wydluzone sylwetki, karykaturalne twarze, miekkie linei podbrodkow. Nie znalazlam wystarczajaco duzej reprodukcji by ja tu zacytowac, a szczeglnie istotne sa zblizenia twarzy…

Portrait of a Woman” Cranacha zaskakuje graficznoscia – wycieta ostra linia sylwetka malej, pulchnej kobietki i klaustrofobiczna wrecz, plaska czernia tla.

‘The close of the Silver Age” Cranacha – nie moge sie nasycic tymi powyginanymi, nieduzymi sylwetkami i …trawa…. Z daleka tak soczysta i realna, z bliska okazuje sie “wyskrobana” niedbalymi, automatycznymi pociagnieciami…

W sali Ferrary i Bolonii nie tyle obrazy mnie zafascynowaly co karliczka strazniczka w granatowym uniformie, siedzaca na krzesle i kiwajaca w powietrzu krotkimi nozkami. Malenkie lapki notowaly cos zaciekle w malym notesie. Mogla miec rownie dobrze 20 co 50lat…W karzelkach jest jakas magia i basniowosc. O wiele bardziej pasowalaby do sali z malarstwem Cranacha. Z dzika rozkosza popelnilabym jej fotke ale niestety w calym muzeum jest scisly zakaz uzywania aparatow fotograficznych.

“An Allegory with Venus and Cupid” Bronzino – alegoria alegoria ale sposob w jaki Kupid piesci piers Venus..ten strczacy sutek miedzy palcami bozka..

otwarte usta Venus z wyrazie zaznaczonymi drobnymi zabkami i figlarnym jezykiem…

1540 rok a robi wielkie wrazenie na mnie, osobie zyjacej w wieku przesyconym pornografia i erotyzmem..

“Saint Jerome in his Study” Vincenzo Catena – uczony nad ksiega skojarzl mi sie ze mna sama… z ta moja saturnina strona natury. Samotnosc,nauka, praca…i ta czysta geometria pokoju Jeremiasza..i symbole: spiacy lew, kuropatwa, kapcie, kapelusz…

‘Saint George and the Dragon” Paolo Ucello – jedna z moich ulubionych malarskich bajek. Fantastyczny smok, wlasciwie to wcale nie grozny, bardziej psi. Trzymany na smyczy przez ksiezniczke  o twarzyczce tak bladej, jak to tylko mozliwe w basniach braci Grimm. Sw.Jerzy wyglada jak maly chlopczyk a jego zbroja upodabnia go nie do walecznego swietego tylko raczej do Blaszanego Drwala z krainy Oz.

Z pyska smoka kapie krew…szkoda mi smoka….

‘Portrait of a Lady” – Rogiera van der Weydena – czyste, nie zmacone zadna niepotrzebna kreska czy linia piekno. Dotyk absolutu. Jeden z tych portretow, ktore mowia o wiele wiecej i dobitniej niz cale grupy postaci, materii, architektury czy pejzazu. I ta perfekcyjna igla, podtrzymujaca tiul na dekolcie kobiety. NIestety niewidoczna na zadnej ze znanych mi reprodukcji.

Memling – zapamietany i wyuczony przeze mnie 5 letnia ze zlotego albumu, z polki rodzicow.. Precyzja kompozycji, koloru, formy. Spokoj na twarzach postaci, nieprzenikniony i pelen szczescia…

“The Doge Leonardo Loredan” – jego stroj moglby zaprojektowac Alexander Mc Queen. Ta materia stroju,  zapiecia z muszli…ahh…

“Exhibition of Rhinoceros at Venis” Pietro Loghi – weneckie towarzystwo niczym z “Casanovy” Felliniego. I ociezaly nosorozec na pierwszym planie. Smok u Ucello, nosorozec u Longhi.. znowu mnie moje zbieznosci dopadaja i pamietny cytat z mistrza Federico:

“…Nosorożec z filmu jest dalekim kuzynem chorej zebry z mojego dzieciństwa, którą pomagałem kąpać, kiedy cyrk przyjechał do Rimini. Uważam, że była chora, bo nie miała z kim się kochać. Nic dziwnego, że źle się czuła. Była jedyną zebrą w cyrku. Nosorożec też choruje z braku miłości. Samotny nosorożec to tak jak samotna zebra…”

“A man seated reading at a table in a loffy room” – Rembrandta – maestria swiatla i cienia, wspolczesna kompozycja…sama postac mezczyzny ledwo zarysowana. Najwazniejsze sa zmagania cienia ze swiatlem.

‘Bathers at Asnieres” Seurat – zastygniete, letnie popoludnie na plazy…jasno ale wcale nie sielsko, raczej gesto. Duszna pastelowosc, kazda z postaci odosobniona. Mlodzieniec w centralnej czesci obrazu..chm…jego sylwetka, profil…przeciez to mlody Dustin Hofman z “Absolwenta”!

“Combing the hair” Degas – orgia rdzawych czerwieni, jakby zaczerpnietych z dachow Paryza..Lekkosc, niedbalosc, zatrzymanie zwyklego, intymnego momentu…piekne.

“Princess Pauline de Metternich” – Degas – zdumiewajaco fotograficzne potraktowanie twarzy kobiety, ta nieostrosc, rozmycie rysow… Wielcy zawsze wyprzedzali swoje epoki. Wiem to nie od dzis ale i tak daje im sie zaskakiwac.

‘Child with w Dove” Picasso – slodkie cudo z mojego ulubionego okresu Pabla. Twarz dziewczynki bardzo podobna do starej, porcelanowej lalki, ktora udalo mi sie trafic za 15funtow na car boot sale’u na Wimbledonie. Laleczka ma ruchome oczka, sukienke z jedwabiu, halke, pieluche i onuce na nozkach. Dziewczynka Picassa tez ma jasna sukienke..i ta sama slodycz w twarzyczce co moja lalka.

“Suprised” – Henri Rousseau – burza w dzungli, walka zywiolow, wiatr i szalenstwo dlugich traw. I przestraszony tygrys. Stoje jak zaczarowana, wpadnieta w obraz genialnego celnika, zamotana w trawy, biczowana deszczem i wichura….

Wychodze z National Gallery na ulice ledwo zywa… Stracilam poczucie czasu i miejsca. Glowa ciezka jak z metalu. I tak pelna, ze pewnie mi paruje. Jestem nasycona pieknem i jednoczenie oslabiona…Po raz setny przeczyszczam drogi oddechowe, posilam sie czekoladowa barylka i robie sobie spacerek z Trafalgar Sqare na Picadilly Circus. Zahaczam o male uliczki Soho, odbijam w kierunku St.James i mostem kolejowym przy diabelskim mlynie zwanym London Eye, wracam na Waterloo Station i kolejka na “moj” Wimbledon…

Dobranoc.

das is ein Gemälde von Lukas Cranach.
nich schlecht oder?
Frauen an die Macht!!!

Zuerst veröffentlicht am: 25. 12. ‘05 um 12:39

I go back inside the museum, to spend more time where I very first started.
Sitting here in the Cour Marly everything seen comes down daunting. Daunting.
The click of a pen or laugh seem equally significant to any work of art. Puts my thoughts to the artist’s responsibility of edifying those in his day who do not create for expression sake themselves. Do I believe in this responsibility?

Where I am was once open air now glass roof. Would living working here change my perspective? The Mona Lisa / La Jaconde had two people on either side of her – would learning French and getting a job here be worth seeing it up close? Has anyone done this, wanted to see it so badly…because I do not. Yet do. I haven’t yet read Renaldo Reyes short story.

Fly courtyard dreams atop gigantic urns with me. Sun turning marble potential into heated and bronzed. The not gold of pure freedom. Lower me on Zeus’ belly where I will wait with you to spring from creation. Or meet me when you get off and we will fuck under Fame and Mercury. Met here. Hiding behind balloon pants or patent leather boots. Slide with each other here making snail slug trails across the marble floor. Dripping life on marble staircases. Resting in the flowerpots of giants. Then polishing every surface with the raw of one another so the cleaning ladies can go home early and make babies of their own. Works of sublime art to search parts and whole. Little orange peach jacket red hair rest slight smile. Her sharp face great build amazing ass facing me. Hair pulled back slick to a bun at the back. Pants crying as ventriloquist from body to be spread.

The painting of Gabrille d’Estrees is really one of my favorites for so many reasons. Fontainebleau.
Where did making the loop and hitting someone originate…Nicolas Regnier – La Diseuse de Bonne Aventure.
Baroque – originally referring to a species of pearl with an irregular shape.
Speak dove into being with you.
Provence: Le Retable de Boulbon.
Feast Hunter bird from pheasant baby carriage stoop grab necklace touch belly line from sternum to button.
Play flowers Ribald theme while cow look on laughter of the chubby to cute male fawning disposition he makes jokes care-free knowing she will always giggle. Always touch her necklace in turn.
Green and white fabric, my tongue would take flashlight to that which I desire to illuminate.
Helst.
Show me ribcage corset standing alongside a golden horned bull. Your thoughts and impenetrable fla-vors illuminating from the crown of head. Crown on your head. Bouquet in hand.
Feed me from wanting
and away from thirst.
Noordt.
Skinny little back rib windmill wonder how bright when created. Maes. La Baignade.
the rapid cleavage, voluptuousness of Brugghen.
Get hoods up Hals with it.
Fabre’s owls I like.
Boel has some great ostriches.
Triple Etude D’Une Autruche.
their odd upper blue halos, green blur leg stance.
Wrap iridescent lace around your waste while you squirt milk into the air. I catch it. And we laugh along grass trails through the concrete. Goltzuis.
My recent aesthetic is closer to Boel’s pastels than I ever would have conceived.
You don’t know a damn thing until you’ve actually seen these paintings. I am so enthusiastically looking forward to my future artwork that it’s borderline retarded. The nudes of Cranach.
“Eva Prima Pandora”
nude reclining with skull.
Say it out loud a couple of times to yourself. Eva Prima Pandora.
Repeat.

In the section of Egyptian relics it is very easy to see that the noses although cut were once very wide. Many figures have a strike obviously more for the symbol than a wish to completely obliterate.
This feature.
Thoutmosis?
No educated man can front on Yule Brenner as a Pharaoh.
I see a statue of a woman, man on lap, squeezing her breast. But instead of wrapped in blue she wears an elaborate headdress.oi
“La Deeesse Isis Allaite le Jeune Dieu Horus.”

After walking through this place twice, getting lost, rediscovering, seeing some things for uncounted minutes of meditation, I leave. It’s a good thing I went on a day that the Louvre is open late.

Where to start with such a fascinating artist? The Martyrdom of Saint Catherine, in the first room of the Royal Academy’s exhibition, is a good place.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, The Martyrdom of Saint Catherine, 1504-05

It is an extraordinary painting, recording the moment just after the miraculous destruction of the wheel being used to torture the expectant saint, and just before the beheading that ensures her martyrdom. The canvas is divided up, each section turned over to distinct parts of the narrative. There is the massive dark blast at the top right, wrenching open a hole in the cosmos; there is the tranquil path leading to the distant monastery at the top left; there is the gigantic figure of the executioner just about to grab the chin of Catherine, who kneels in astonishment. And then there is the fantastic jumble of defeated pagans who are crammed into some indeterminate space behind the scene of Catherine and her killer.

In this strip of figures, Cranach manages to describe a sense of infernal panic. What is striking is that it is the entire area that is filled – there are no patches of grass, nor chinks of light, nor indeed any space between the figures. Demonstrating a truism about early Northern painting, Cranach has no clear idea of how to depict the gradually receding space of a three dimensional scene. Accordingly, the viewer’s sense of the characters inhabiting a realistic space is somewhat compromised. But does this affect the impact of the painting? Of course not!

Such an approach allows Cranach to release his extraordinary visual and emotive imagination, squeezing in humans and animals which enliven the narrative of the painting. Indeed, the very application of a rational sense of space could in fact diminish the effect of the canvas, providing a calming gloss to a storyline full of fear and confusion. It is precisely this confused conception of the painted arena that gives the painting its urgency; one is reminded of similar scenes painted over 400 years later.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, detail from The Martyrdom of Saint Catherine, 1504-05

Pablo Picasso, detail from Guernica, 1936

See how the faces are varied – Cranach conjures up numerous ways of depicting the response to the miraculous and noisy intervention, we see shock, pain, trepidation and fear, and yet each face is different, of a distinct character. Particularly in the male figures, Cranach liked to paint their features in vastly different ways; look at how the three pairs of eyes just above Catherine’s head are documented.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, detail from The Martyrdom of Saint Catherine, 1504-05

Facial hair is equally variegated. There is also an astonishing variety of clothes and head wear depicted. The knight behind Catherine is literally crestfallen. On the left, there are the puffed curls of the turbans of the philosopher-like figures and on the right the more simple red hat of the pickpocket. There is also the extraordinary arrangement resting on top of the executioner – it will take a knowledgeable dress historian to explain its genesis.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, detail from The Martyrdom of Saint Catherine, 1504-05

Lucas Cranach the Elder, detail from The Martyrdom of Saint Catherine, 1504-05

The commitment to detail, to compressing each last drop of human emotion into the painting is incredible. Even where there is the most minute space, Cranach has inserted another individual gazing in awe at the heavens, or a pickpocket taking advantage the chaos rather than leave the canvas blank.

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The Martyrdom of St. Catherine deserves a close reading. This is true in a more physical sense as well; to get to grips with the huge jumble of figures, one needs to get close to the painting and work through all its details. This is not a painting that can be swallowed whole. While the graceful form of, say, a Raphael can be appreciated instantly, Cranach produced paintings, particularly his larger ones, which need to be brought closer to the eye and then read through. Just in the way a page of text needs to be brought up to the reader and then its individual elements worked through, so one needs to approach a Cranach and perceive its individual elements before comprehending the larger whole. Cranach’s paintings are works that demand close readings.

The dimensions of Cranach’s paintings play into this as well, as the Royal Academy’s curators have observed, placing twin portraits beside each other like facing pages of a book. The open covers of the diptychs (and occasional triptych) only serve to enhance this.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Holy Family Altarpiece, 1509

But more telling of all is simply the number of characters engaged in reading or holding books or bound manuscripts in Cranach’s work. The Holy Family Altarpiece (Städelsches Kunstinstitut, Frankfurt) shows all different types of people reading. Thus we have the Virgin Mary in the centre, temporarily distracted from her book. The bearded man with red stockings in the right hand corner rather pensively considers the outsize volume held in his long-fingered hands. And at the other end of the triptych a young boy is studiously engaged in the green book nestled between in his knees. In Cranach’s world, man, woman and child are all free to read. Note too that the grissaile saint on one wing of the manuscript is also clutching a bound book.

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Lucas Cranach the Elder, detail from St Valentine, date unknown

Never has an artist been so concerned with ugliness. Cranach has perhaps painted some of the least flattering images in western portraiture. He was concerned with beauty too (witness the numerous nude Eves, twirling their tresses in the garden of Eden), but he was much better at ugliness. The portrait of Saint Valentine (nowadays the patron saint of lovers) is an essay in grumpiness – the bloated nose, the triple chin, the close set eyes.

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So passion, detail, beauty and ugliness – what more could you need? Surely, if Cranach can produce paintings like the Martyrdom of St Catherine, he touches greatness? Well, not quite. Save for the startling twin portrait of Jesus and Mary Magdalen (who may actually possibly the Virgin Mary) where all of Cranach’s deficits seem to have been shed in a painting which advertises an ambiguous similarity between the two figures, there is a lack of confidence in some of Cranach’s portraits that reduces their dramatic power.

From a distance they seem to have that steely precision which illuminates Holbein’s meticulous portraits; closer up, however, they lose that precision and have a lifelessness about them. What can appear as an exacting portrait of heavy jowls and fattened cheeks can actually descend into a bland concoction of paint as if the painter did not have quite the conviction in his talents. It may not matter so much when looking at an individual portrait, but when one sees it repeated over several in a single exhibition, the tendency to blur and fudge becomes manifest and ultimately disappointing.

Similarly, his many renditions of Adam and Eve become repetitive, and the insistence on that round headed, doe-eyed version of female beauty, with golden tresses pulled back to reveal a rather prominent forehand is a little cloying.

Cranach is at his best when forced to engage complex narratives or is inspired to add seemingly unnecessary detail to standard narratives – true for paintings such as the Catherine martyrdom but also to the prints and drawings. An insistence on imagination, ugliness and confusion does not detract from great art; rather it makes it.

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Note on exhibition space at Royal Academy

The Royal Academy, despite being typically busy, was an excellent forum for the exhibition. Cranach’s pictures are usually so small in dimension that the four rooms of the Sackler Wing were sufficient.

Although more label information would have been appreciated for an artist whose work was particularly sensitive to the social context – I suppose dump all that contextual stuff on the audio guides these days

For weeks now — actually, now that I do the sums, the word ‘months’ might be more accurate — I have been trying, and failing, to finish writing something on the subject of the Royal Academy’s current Cranach exhibition.

What keeps putting me off? The draft already runs to thousands of words. I’ve long since read, and indeed entirely forgotten, quite a lot of the catalogue.

Yet somehow, between all those fakes and forgeries, the sharp-elbowed smirking nudes describing smooth amoral S-curves in depthless space, the frankness and opacity of the portraits, the pungent obscurities of the relevant phase of reformation-era theological disputes, the politics, the sanguinary hell of the Peasant’s War, the contemplation of these problematic factors interrupted all too often by a banal hallucination in which some ominous sonderweg threads its way through dark forests to the usual, bleak, ‘inevitable’ conclusion — the sort of hallucination that always always seems to me, in itself, the strongest of arguments for formalism of the most austerely fundamentalist sort — well, err, somehow, other projects just keep taking priority. Hence, no Cranach today — nor, alas, any time very soon.

On the other hand, news of the forthcoming exhibition at the National Maritime Museum, endowed with the stirring title Turmoil and Tranquility, fills me with hope and wonder. Displaying, not before time, the museum’s famously important collection of sixteenth and seventeenth century Dutch and Flemish seascapes, the final result must, surely, be a marriage between beautiful painting and bracing history. (The picture above, Sailors sheltering from a clearing rainstorm by Bonaventura Peeters the Elder, shows the moral and emotional charge, none the worse for not being wildly subtle, this strand of visual culture can also deliver.) And as if further blandishments were required, the setting is the Queen’s House, Greenwich — without doubt, one of Britain’s most absolutely faultless buildings, blessed with magnificent natural light, excellent views and poignant, if not always happy historical memories.

In any event, whatever defect of personality somehow held me back from embracing Cranach more fully, propels me headlong towards Turmoil and Tranquility. Who knows, someday I may even actually post a proper review.

(Turmoil and Tranquility runs from 20 June 2008 to 11 January 2009 at the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich.)

I went to see the Cranach exhibition over the weekend. Great exhibition with some fantastic images and some line drawings that looked unbelievably modern considering they were over 500 years old.

One thing that struck me was that Cranach travelled at key points in his life, at one point visiting Vienna and then to the Netherlands. This can be achieved in a matter of hours today, but then would have taken, what, weeks by coach? And while in those places he saw the creative advancements of those particular schools of art, which had been developing in relative isolation. Their ideas about how art should develop influenced his own subsequent work.

Now, Cranach would be able to see artists’ work from all over the world at the click of a button. And also, rather than a physical geographical school of artists developing a style, we live in a world where there are so many boundaryless influences. I think the difficult in the modern world is being able to sift through this material and find what’s relevant or interesting to the individual. Of course, the ability to rate clips or photos and record their popularity in terms of views brings to the surface those that are outstanding in some way. But I wonder what he would have made of this process?

I had booked from Paris to see the Cranach exhibition which had started quite recently, but booking on-line was not possible for the From Russia exhibition, which attracted crowds.
So when at the Royal Academy of Arts to see the Cranachs, I bought a ticket for the From Russia and saw it on on the following day.

This exhibition will be a unique opportunity to explore the fascinating exchange that existed between French and Russian art during a crucial period that was witness to upheaval and revolution. All the paintings have been lent by the four principal Russian museums: The Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts and The State Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow and The State Hermitage Museum and The State Russian Museum in St Petersburg. For the first time, works from these museums have been gathered for a single exhibition.

I found it difficult to follow the links between the paintings, mostly because of my lack of pictural culture. But it was great to see a painting like The Dance by Matisse in the flesh, so to speak or Gauguin’s Vairaumati Tei Oa (Her Name was Vairaumati).
My favourites were definitely Chagall’s Promenade and Nathan Altman’s Portrait of Anna Akhmatova (honestly, I didn’t even know the name of Altman, before I went to that exhibition).

But I enjoyed the Cranach exhibition much more. Not that I knew more about Cranach than I did about modern painting, but somehow, I found it easier to understand. In fact, I like one-artist retrospectives. One has time to get familiar with the paintings, to see a relationship between them.

As the exhibition booklet puts it, Cranach…

… was one of the most versatile artists of the Renaissance, court artist to the Saxon electors, a staunch supporter of the Reformation, and a close friend of Martin Luther. During the course of his long career, Cranach created striking portraits and expressive devotional works, propaganda for the Protestant cause, as well as his own brand of erotic female nude and inventive treatments of biblical, mythological and classical subjects.

At one point, I noticed that in practically every painting, except for the portraits, there was someone, be it a human or an animal that was looking straight at you. So I walked through the rooms again to find the watching eye
I found the nudes just lovely, like the Venus shown on the exhibition poster, which apparently was found “too risqué for London Underground“, or Adam and Eve.

The Cranach is on till the end of June, but From Russia stops middle of April.

S’ha reobert l’exposició d’art a Berlin tancada urgentment fa uns dies per les amenaces i udols de santa indignació islàmica front una obra crítica envers l’islam. Un pòster on s’hi representa la Kaaba o roca sagrada de la Meca a l’Aràbia Saudí.

El col.lectiu d’artistes danesos autor de l’obra havia denunciat la cobardia dels responsables de la galeria d’art on es fa l’exposició front aquestes amenaces.

S’hi posaràn vigilants i extremaràn les mesures de seguretat, és clar. Fa poc va intentar assassinar-se en Kurt Westergaard per la seva caricatura d’en Mahoma. Poc després Dinamarca sencera patia violents aldarulls als carrers de les seves ciutats. 

És comprensible prendre-les. No ho és tanmateix, no té excusa, cedir als que només pretenen imposar-nos el dictat de la xaria.  

També va patir el dictat de la xaria el pintor alemany Cranach quan va suspendre’s a Londres, al seu metro, la publicitat sobre l’exposició que s’hi fa de la seva obra.

En fer-se mitjançant la seva Venus, un dels seus quadres més coneguts, l’alcalde Ken Livinsgton va suspendre-la. En Livingstone és un típic exemplar de comunista del ‘68 tranformat en immigracionista populista que cerca el vot dels musulmans en ser ja part decisiva de l’electorat.

Deia que la nuesa de la Venus de Cranach ofenia certs usuaris del metro. Cal dir a quins?

En Cranach va pintar fa cinc cents anys la seva Venus. Una jove que mostra confiada i desafiant la seva nuesa front els dogmes obscurantistes de l’esglèsia. És per això un símbol del Renaixament alemany i, en conseqüència, europeu.

Ha arribat fins els nostres dies per ser amagada, per obscena, per aquest patètic postcomunista per satisfer les exigències dels dogmes islàmics del seu electorat musulmà? Passarà de ser símbol del Renaixament d’Europa a símbol de la seva agonia?

Sortosament l’exposició sobre en Cranach no s’ha suspés. A la Royal Academy la Venus de Cranach somriu als europeus que, en defensar-la, defensen la nostra identitat i els nostres valors. Amb la seva mateixa actitud confiada i desafiant.

A Londres ,  la prochaine expo de la Royal Academy of Arts est  consacrée à l’oeuvre du peintre Lucas Cranach (fin 15ème debut seizième siècle).

L’affiche reproduit la célèbre Venus. Une femme nue.

Et bien la voila interdite d’affichage dans le métro.

Une femme nue peinte il y a presque 500 ans, en 1532 , shocking !

La London Underground trouve t elle encore l’ombre claire d’une très pale  fourrure  pubienne encore trop choquante ?

Voit elle là une menace pour la morale?

Craint-elle une polémique parmi les “communautés” qui ne montrent rien de la femme qu’une ombre muette?

Ridicule . Rien que pour cela il faut courir à Londres entre le 8 mars et le 8 juin

http://www.royalacademy.org.uk/