September 24, 2003
Art of War
A while back I blogged a the new art book Art of War by Col.H. Avery Chenoweth. I can't find the original link because it was back on Blogspot. Never mind. To my delight, I found the book at Barnes and Noble for the unbelievably cool price of $14.95. You can't beat that with a stick, not for a coffee table sized art book, even one in paperback.
This is a beautiful book. Chenoweth brings experience with the Marine Corps and a degree in art together to present a well thought out document of America at war. His premise is that there are different types of war art, and that combat art - his focus - can only be created by eyewitnesses who do not distort the truth. Any "poetic license" taken by an artist changes the art from combat art to illustration. So, having set up his premise, Chenoweth proceeds to document combat art from the Revolution to the present day.
I loved it when I would turn a page and see a gorgeous reproduction of a truly wonderful piece of art and think, that guy was brilliant. Then I would find out it was Albert Bierstadt or Winslow Homer or Frederick Remington. Definitely worth a look.
Our armed forces have a huge art collection. Because they are owned by the US Government, they are public domain. Give me a day or two and I will post some fo the more spectacular images.
September 22, 2003
Highlights: 1/7/03
Today is art history lesson day. The subject: The Ecstasy of St. Francis. The iconography: St. Francis received the holy stigmata from an angel, and it led him to experience a holy euphoria. The Ecstasy of St. Francis differs from the Stigmatization of St. Francis in that we see not the angel giving him his wounds, but the euphoric after effects. The image: the subject was popular in painting through the middle ages and into the baroque era (approximately the years 1200 - 1700).
This painting by Giotto, considered a marvel of realism at the time, is part of a cycle of frescoes telling the story of St. Francis of Assisi. Giotto has captured the saint's euphoria by placing his legless body on a cloud floating above the heads of the stunned witnesses. Above him is the image of Christ Himself blessing the saint from his heavenly throne. Giotto has not left much to the imagination, it's all there. It is concrete, and it is happening here and now. The heavy, blocky style of painting compliments the very solid imagery he has represented. Any observer with the least bit of knowledge about St. Francis would know what he is looking at. This is an image that is meant to be read like a book, this being a chapter in a book painted on the walls of the Assisi Chapel.
This image was the reason I decided on this post in the first place. The post was going to be about this painting, but it grew a mind of its own. So be it. Bellini's St. Francis is a small panel painting at the Frick in New York. It's one of the earlier Italian oil paintings, and it has a glossy surface that gives it a gem-like feel. It continues the earlier traditions of St. Francis in Ecstasy in that we have a very real, solid landscape, yet one that is apparently concocted for this image. The saint stands in his immaculate robe, shining in the rays of the sun. He has just stepped out from his study, and is looking up at heaven, and seeing something we, the viewers, do not see. And why should we? We are not priviledged to that vision, as we are not saints. Just as Giotto showed us a solid reality, so does Bellini; the landscape is meticulously painted, down to the donkey in the middle ground and the shepherd and his flocks in the back ground. There is seemingly nothing mystical in this painting. We are not awed by the celestial power of the lord, but by the magnificence of nature, and all the details therein.
Now we come to a most baroque representation of the subject. Caravaggio's image is unique, yet wholly in keeping with the spirit of the time. He has done away with the solid landscape and focussed only on the saint and the angel that comforts him. The ecstasy is over and he has swooned into the angel's arms. A divine light illuminates the two figures, while all else is in darkness. Caravaggio's figures seem more realistic to our modern eyes than either of the others, yet the painting is more mystical than either of the earlier works. The angel - who looks like an ordinary young boy with wings - is bathed in that ethereal light, giving him a heavenly glow. This image does not give us concrete clues and iconography. Instead we are presented with a picture of an emotion, of a spiritual experience that cannot be read but must be felt. This is what makes this painting baroque.
September 04, 2003
Uta and Reglindis
I had thoughts of posting a longish article on Uta and Ekkehart, a 13th century sculptural pair from Naumburg Cathedral. They are part of a series of sculptures representing the donors who helpd to build the Cathedral in the early part of the century. I have always been fascinated by Uta: she has the most amazing face you will ever see in medieval art.
While surfing the web for information on her, I came across this wonderful article. Uta is quite famous. She shows up in every art survey book and intro to art history course. I used to think it was because she was so stunning, but I don't think that's all of it. While she is world famous, she holds a special status in Germany. Apparently, she was one of those works of art that was "Wagnerized;" she was appropriated by the Nazis as a symbol of Teutonic perfection.
Frau Kohl turned from the window. She explained that far from being a constant in our view of the past, before the 1920’s, Uta was completely unknown. That part of the cathedral has been used as a lumber room for centuries. Then a local artist published a book of photographs, revealing the cathedral statues. Uta and the other statues achieved overnight fame as symbols of the romantic German past. After 1933, Uta was seized on by the Nazis as the ideal of the Aryan woman. She was illustrated in every child’s history book as the German wife, who stands resolute and, above all, silent beside her warrior husband. She was the subject of romanticized plays and films, and life-size replicas of herself and her husband Ekkehart II were dragged through the streets in huge celebrations of German civilization.
I had never heard this before, but it makes sense. The unfortunate thing is that because Uta became the icon, all the other statues were overlooked, including the lovely Reglindis.
She is the cutest little woman, happy and rosy cheeked. I think her face shows even more character than Uta, but she could never stand up to the stoic, strikingly beautiful Uta. So Reglindis is largely ignored. The statues were carved long after their models were dead, so although they are certainly lifelike, they are not from life. The sculptor must have used specific women as models, beautiful women full of personality and grace, yet his men are brutish and morose. They hardly seem to be by the same sculptor (and perhaps they're not, I don't know).
I found a book review which discusses the co-opting of Uta by the Nazis, but it's in German. I could not find anything in English, though I did not do any heavy-duty research, so I can't say the information isn't out there. I just find it interesting that it's not more readily available. Could it be that this idea would corrupt our gaze? Would we think less of Uta if we knew she was, "the ideal of the Aryan woman?" I am not a music person, so I ask my more musically inclined readers if Wagner was somehow corrupted by the Nazis' use of him as an icon?
Meanwhile, if you're looking for more information on these statues, check out the above links. I can add one thing to the informtion you'll find there. These statues were originally polychromed - that is, they were brightly painted. That's another thing you don't find out in your survey class because most of the pictures are pre-WWII and are in black and white. Only the most recent pictures will show their faded glory, the red of Ekkehart's belt and the yellow/gold of Uta's crown. Appropriately enough, Reglindis still has a sumptuous bright red cloak with a yellow lining, just the kind of thing a cheery person would wear. So which one would you pick as today's icon of German womanhood? Uta or Reglindis?