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

Monday, October 22, 2012

Fancy French Words: Trompe l'oeil

        Before you choke yourself trying to get the word out on your own, let's say it together: trompe l'oeil. The first syllable sounds like "romp" but with a "t" in front of it; the second syllable sounds like the name "Lloyd" without the "d." Perfect. So this term is French for "deceive the eye," and it refers to the optical illusion where something flat (like a painting) appears to be three dimensional and seems very realistic.

Ceiling of Jesuit Church, Vienna by Andrea Pozzo (Italian); 1703; fresco.
Location: Vienna, Austria; Jesuit Church.
        This image is of the ceiling inside the Jesuit Church in Vienna, Austria. At first glance, it appears to be a finely decorated interior with a dome, but this entire image is actually flat.

        Trompe l'oeil has been used in popular culture, as well, not just in paintings in old churches. A prime example? Raiders of the Lost Ark. That's right, your favorite archaeologist/geeky sex symbol Indiana Jones is associated with the term. In the warehouse scene, the warehouse seems endless not because it was a super big warehouse, but because part of the warehouse was actually painted on glass. The transition from smaller, real warehouse into the extended painting is virtually seamless.

        When a trompe l'oeil is painted on glass, as in this case, it is also referred to as "matte painting." This large a warehouse would be hard to recreate in its entirety and would add to the budget of the film, but having a highly skilled artist paint the optical illusion works out just fine because I'm pretty sure none of you watched the scene and said "obvious tromp l'oeil is obvious."

        Indy isn't the only one getting in on this technique in geeky films, either. Other scenes to make use of the trompe l'oeil effect include the Death Star's laser tunnel in Star Wars, the Starfleet headquarters in Star Trek The Motion Picture, the Batty and Deckard chase scene in Blade Runner, and the OCP tower in RoboCop. Add these movies to your Netflix queue and see if you can tell, now that I've let you in on this movie black magic that got its start in boring ol' Art History.

Warehouse Scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark via Homages, Ripoffs, and Coincidences.

Monday, October 8, 2012

The Arnolfini Portrait: Revealing Interest in the Mundane

The Arnolfini Portrait by Jan van Eyck
The Arnolfini Portrait by Jan van Eyck (Netherlandish); 1434; oil on oak panel.
Location: London, England; The National Gallery.
        The Arnolfini Portrait has a few different names, but they are all related. While this name is what it is commonly referred to as, there is no definitive answer to whom this painting actually depicts. It is thought to depict Giovanni di Arrigo Arnolfini and his wife Giovanna Cenami, but it was more recently discovered that this couple did not marry until several years after Jan van Eyck's (the painter) death. Due to this discovery, it has been suggested that this is Arnolfini and an undocumented first wife or that the man is related to Arnolfini, most likely Giovanni di Nicolao (his cousin) and one of his wives. As I mentioned in "Baroque and Caravaggio," not everything in Art History is definitively known.

        Aside from this mystery, this painting gives the impression of being fairly straight-forward. Again, however, the viewer needs to examine the details further to correct the assumption that this painting can be taken at face-value. This painting uses four-point perspective: the best way to explain this is to say you can observe the painting both from above (you look down at the dog, shoes, carpet, etc.) and below (you look up at the chandelier, the gentleman's hat, the bed's canopy, etc.). The woman could be pregnant (she does have one hand on what appears to be a pregnant belly) or this could actually be the latest fashion trend of the time (pregnant celebrities are always en vogue, right?). Further, the woman's hair does confirm that she must be married because it is up and covered; otherwise, an unwed woman's hair would be down.

        Other features of note include things that make this couple appear wealthy (some ideals never change, such as wanting to be seen as wealthy or prominent). This wealth is demonstrated by the rich colors and textures of the couple's clothes, including the man's fur trim and the velvet or similar fabric in the woman's dress. These fabrics are  heavy and most likely for winter, yet the viewer can see a cherry tree blooming outside the window.

        The couple stands before an oriental rug, most likely imported through trade, and the aforementioned chandelier. The couple also boasts a few rarities: oranges (then a delicacy that only the rich could afford) and a fancy mirror. The mirror is convex and actually  utilizes non-Euclidean geometry to show a reflection; upon close examination of it you can see two figures in a doorway, which again cannot be definitively identified. The border around the mirror depicts scenes from the Passion of Christ; the mirror itself is potentially a symbol for the Virgin Mary or the eye of God (seeing the vows of husband and wife).

        The dog could be a symbol of loyalty or simply a wedding gift, further showing the couple's wealth. There is only one candle in the chandelier, which could be a symbol of God or refer to a Flemish (this painting was created in Flanders) wedding tradition; it has also been proposed that this is an unconventional memorial portrait and that the candle signifies that while the husband is alive, the wife has passed (perhaps in labor and thus the pregnant appearance).

        These are but a few of the details you can visit within the seemingly mundane portrait of a husband and his allegedly pregnant wife and this painting is another example of how research relating to Art History can still uncover new facts, causing old theories to be revised and sometimes changed completely. As a last note, after observing this painting in more detail, you might have noticed something above the mirror. In Flemish, the artist has written "Johannes van Eyck was here," and the year 1434.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Baroque and Caravaggio

The Calling of Saint Matthew by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio
The Calling of Saint Matthew by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (Italian); 1599-1600; oil.
Location: Rome, Italy; San Luigi dei Francesi.

        Baroque is a cultural movement that occurred in many disciplines, including art, architecture, literature, and music. Baroque paintings are characterized by deep, saturated colors and the use of contrasting lighting to create mood. Often depicting people, their emotions are exaggerated, creating a dramatic intensity which is then invoked in the viewer.

        In The Calling of St. Matthew by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, one can easily see these attributes. First, the viewer can observe the colors. Caravaggio uses dark blacks and browns, and rich golds, teals, and crimsons. Secondly, and perhaps more noticeable, is his use of the light source it the upper-right corner of the image. This light source accomplishes a few things: it creates highlights and shadows, making a high contrast image, which adds to the drama; the light source suggests that there is space beyond the canvas that the viewer cannot see, extending the space represented; and the light source symbolizes the divine, complimenting the subject matter.

        This painting depicts a story from the Gospel of Matthew (Matthew 9:9), where Jesus tells Matthew, a tax collector, to follow him. While there is a consensus among scholars that Jesus is the man standing and pointing, with Saint Peter beside him, scholars debate over which man Matthew is. The confusion stems from the bearded man, whose expression of surprise and hand gesture could mean one of two things: he is asking if he is to follow Jesus or if the younger man at the end of the table is the one requested. Another possible explanation is that Caravaggio actually intended for the painting to be ambiguous as to which man Matthew is.

        If the viewer is to take the Baroque idea of dramatic importance into account, the best answer might be that Matthew is indeed the man at left, with his head down. The reasoning behind this is that the moment depicted is the moment right before Matthew looks up at Jesus, which is equivalent to the moment right before a crescendo in music; this is the moment just before Matthew's entire journey as an apostle of Jesus began, when Matthew was still an ordinary man collecting taxes.