Tag Archives: National Gallery London

Mary is enraptured by "the delightful harmonies of the celestial choirs" while hiding in a cave in the South of France.Alternatively this is just an erotic painting. Mary Magdalene in Ecstasy, about 1620-25 Oil on canvas © Photo: Dominique Provost Art Photography - Bruges

ARTEMISIA CUTS A DASH, AND A HEAD OR TWO

Mary Magdalene in Ecstasy, about 1620-25 Oil on canvas Artemisia Gentileschi
Mary is enraptured by “the delightful harmonies of the celestial choirs” while hiding in a cave in the South of France.Alternatively this is just an erotic painting.
Mary Magdalene in Ecstasy, about 1620-25
Oil on canvas
© Photo: Dominique Provost Art Photography – Bruges

Artemisia, National Gallery in London 3 October 2020 – 24 January 2021

Don’t try this at home. Just try to imagine what it would be like to slice somebody’s head off with a sword. First of all,you have to make sure that your weapon is a sharp as a Japanese (katana) sword. If that’s not the case, as in the painting below, just use brute force. A lot of strength is required. It is messy affair and blood will splatter.

The National Gallery shows two versions of Artemisia Gentileschi’s Judith beheading Holofernes and it looks like she had a fair idea of what it takes to decapitate somebody. She may have seen Caravaggio’s painting on the same theme and thought: I can do better. In her treatment of the popular subject Artemisia certainly outshone the master whom her father Orazio admired so much. While Caravaggio’s pretty Judith seems to be slicing a piece of cake, Artemisia’s Jewish widow shows absolute determination and muscle while cutting into Holofernes’s carotid aorta. Unlike Caravaggio’s painting Artemisia physically involves the maidservant Abra, who is made to restrain the Assyrian warrior in his death throes. Watch the blood spurting onto Judith’s shiny, golden brocade gown. A couple of drops have already hit the top of her cleavage. And look at that elegant bracelet which may have helped Judith to get invited into general Holofernes’s tent.

It is hard work butchering a powerful and vengeful general. But somebody’s gotta do it.
Judith beheading Holofernes, (1613-14), Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence © Gabinetto fotografico delle Gallerie degli Uffizi

Artemisia Gentileschi (1593 -1654) couldn’t get enough of the this apocryphal story (or was it her clients?) and there are two more paintings of Judith and her maidservant, after they have done the deed. In both these pictures the sense of drama is equal to anything Shakespeare or Caravaggio could have come up with. The two accomplices are about to make their getaway, they’ve ‘bagged’ the head of Holofernes, but they can hear some noise outside the tent. Judith has her sword at the ready, Abra is hurriedly concealing the blood-dripping head. The flickering candle throws a dark shadow over Judith’s face which is lit up in the shape of a crescent moon. Could it be that Artemisia intended a reference to mythology? The half moon is the attribute of the Greek goddess Selene. Artemis is another lunar goddess (as well as the goddess of wild nature), and Artemisia the painter was perhaps named after her. In the ancient Greek district Attica they honoured a bull goddess, Artemis Tauropolos, who during a ritual would receive blood drawn by sword from a man’s neck! Would the painter Artemisia have been familiar with this tale or am I reading too much into this magnificent work?

This painting was one of the highlights at one of the first major exhibitions devoted to women artists in 1976 in Detroit. Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith and her Maidservant, about 1623-5 © The Detroit Institute of Arts

Artemis seems to have been particularly fond of empowered heroines. Her interpretation of the Jael and Sisera story from the Book of Judges in the Hebrew Bible is fairly dramatic. The cruel Canaanite leader Sisera, who has been defeated by the Israelites, is offered food and refuge in the tent of Jael.  The heroine had sex with Sisera, seven times in all, according to the Talmud. This was just to tire him out, so she was forgiven. While the potent warrior had a little rest Jael drove a tent peg through his temple. This story has inspired quite a few painters and writers, including Agatha Christie (not sure if she includes the sex). Do I detect a slight smirk on Jael’s face while she lifts the hammer for that almighty blow?

Artemisia ‘chiselled’ her signature on the pilaster (stage right). Jael is about to practice some chiselling on Sisera’s skull.
Jael and Sisera, dated 1620 © Szépmüvészeti Múzeum / Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest

Artemisia had a good reason to occasionally let off some steam by painting pretty horrific killings.

Artemisia was born in Rome in 1693, the only daughter of the Mannerist painter Orazio Gentileschi. He was heavily influenced by Caravaggio (and so was Artemisia) but after the ‘enfant terrible’s’ death Orazio rediscovered the Tuscan lyricism and a lighter palette that had marked his early career.  By the time she was 15 Artemisia was probably training in her father’s studio.  Her earliest signed work is from 1610. She was only 17 years old, but her Susannah and the Elders is technically already pretty stunning. The way the attractive wife of Joachim turns away and refuses the two lecherous men’s advances is very convincing. Artemisia would return to this subject several times and three depictions of the virtuous heroine are included in the National Gallery show. She was still only 17 when she was raped at home by the painter Agostino Tassi who was working together with her father. She fought back but he deflowered her and then promised to marry her. Their relationship continued for a few month after that, but when Tassi didn’t keep his promise things went awry.  It was Orazio who insisted on pressing charges. The rape trial lasted for nearly nine months and it has been the subject of at least one (crappy) film and a pretty good play. In London you’ll have an opportunity to see the original account of the trial, which has never been exhibited before in public!

The transcript of the trial has never been exhibited before. Proceedings of Agostino Tassi’s trial for the rape of Artemisia Gentileschi, 1612 © Archivio di Stato di Roma

Artemisia was tortured to test if she was telling the truth, but at least she won the trial. Tassi was sentenced to go into exile (he just had to leave Rome), but he returned quite soon without anyone objecting (it seems). Within a day of the court case ending Artemisia married a fellow painter and they left for Florence. She set up a studio in her father-in-law’s house, and had five children in seven years – three died in infancy. Her husband turned out to be a good for nothing, but Artemisia became friends with Galileo Galilei and the poet Michelangelo Buonarroti the Younger. She was the first woman to become a member of the prestigious Accademia delle Arte del Disegno and she worked for the Medicis. Her Florentine period is particularly interesting for all the self portraits. She portrays herself as various martyrs (St. Catherine of Alexandria in particular) and using her own mirror image as a model would have saved her quite a lot of money (Rembrandt also regularly painted his own likeness while dressed up in various guises). Artemisia’s patrons clearly must have admired her likeness.

Does Danaë seem erotically enraptured to you? Look again: she’s crossing her legs and her face signals displeasure. The picture seems to send mixed messages. Artemisia Gentileschi © Saint Louis Art Museum

Around 1618 Artemisia started an affair with the wealthy nobleman Francesco Maringhi.  Nine years ago 36 letters were discovered that she wrote to her lover. Four of them are on display here. I particularly like the one in which she tells Maringhi that she no longer sleeps with her husband and then she implores her beau not to masturbate over her self portrait.

In 1620 the family moved to Rome, because Artemisia’s husband’s lifestyle had bankrupted the business. Luckily her work was now much in demand and she was the main breadwinner. Her husband describes in a letter how cardinals and princes frequent their house and studio. It is in 1620s that she produces some of her most powerful work ( which I have discussed above). She was becoming famous, even celebrated, and Simon Vouet painted a portrait of Artemisia posing with a palette and a drawing implement. She is also the subject of a portrait medal and engravings. There is even a depiction of her right hand delicately holding a paintbrush.

I don’t know too many painters whose hands have been portrayed. The Right Hand of Artemisia Gentileschi Holding a Brush, 1625 Pierre Dumonstier II  Black and red chalk on paper © The Trustees of The British Museum

Much has been made of the fact that Artemisia was a woman artist. Female painters actually weren’t that unusual during the baroque era. Sofonisba Anguissola was perhaps the foremost female artist of the Renaissance. Simon Vouet (see above) was married to the Italian painter Virginia da Vezzo. And I believe that the Dutch Golden Age painter Judith Leyster doesn’t get enough credit. There were others, but perhaps I should devote a separate blog to these other fabulous woman artists.

Gender not taken into account, Artemisia deserves to be treated as one of the great painters of the 17th century because of her portrayal of women from a female perspective.  Her nudes appear more realistic to me than Titian, Rubens and Rembrandt’s unclothed beauties. The way she depicts Judith’s and Jael’s emotions during the act of murder can’t be found in any other paintings from that era.  And look at Susannah’s almost tearful face in the picture below. This is a voluptuous and attractive woman (compare with the rather plump woman in Rembrandt’s version), who is pestered for sex by two very ugly men. But she also gives out a sense of vulnerability that most male artists couldn’t capture.

Susannah’s attempt to cover her private parts is reminiscent of the classic Venus podica pose.
Susannah and the Elders, 1622, A. Gentileschi © The Burghley House Collection

In the 1630s we find Artemisia in Naples where we know that she made some pictures for the well-known patron of the arts Cassiano dal Pozzo. The Infanta Maria of Spain, the Spanish king’s sister, also commissioned some works. But most of the altarpieces and other paintings based on biblical stories created in Naples fail to really impress me. Technically they are still quite brilliant, but maybe there are too many figures and the focal point becomes ill defined. Artemisia was definitely at her best when she didn’t have to focus on more than three characters. Still, among these late works there is another very evocative painting of the semi-naked Queen Cleopatra, as white as a sheet,  on her deathbed.

In 1638 she went to London to assist her father who she hadn’t seen for 20 years. Orazio was working on the ceiling canvases for the Great Hall of the Queen’s House in Greenwich.  Many figures are more reminiscent of Artemisia’s powerful style than Orazio’s more artificial depictions, claims the curator of Marlborough House. That is where these paintings hang nowadays, but the mansion in St. James, London, is not open to the public. But you can see the ceiling in detail by following this link:

https://artsandculture.google.com/story/an-allegory-of-peace-and-the-arts/XgKSWkEDR113Lg

Artemisia stayed in London for another year after her father’s death in February 1639. She continued to work for the Queen but how many paintings she produced is not known. The one work that is associated with this period is the famous La Pittura, Self Portrait as the Allegory of Painting (see below). I don’t believe for a minute that it is a self portrait – the subject is far too young (Artemisia would have been around 46 years old). My guess is that the allegory portrays her daughter Prudenzia who also was a painter.

This is a faithful rendition, almost to the letter, of how an allegory of painting was supposed to be portrayed. But the angle is unique and innovative.   Self Portrait as the Allegory of Painting (La Pittura), about 1638-9  © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019

Artemisia returned to Naples in 1640 and continued painting, but by 1649 she is again bankrupt. Her last dated picture is from 1652 and it is another Susannah and the Elders which also features in the exhibition.

Artemisia Gentileschi, the first truly great woman artist, is still recorded as being alive in August 1654 when she paid her taxes. The excellent catalogue accompanying the exhibition suggests that she died soon after that. I sincerely hope the tax bill wasn’t a killer.

The Wellington Collection, Apsley House [English Heritage] © Historic England Photo Library

GOLDEN AGE INFLUENCER NICOLAES MAES AT THE NG

London’s National Gallery and The Hague’s Mauritshuis museum have put together the first exhibition in the UK devoted to Nicolaes Maes,  a Dutch Golden Age painter who deserves to be more well-known.

Even in the Netherlands Nicolaes Maes (1634–1693) is not really a household name, but I reckon that he was one of the Dutch Republic’s major influencers (when it came to painting). His intimate, often humorous, domestic interiors have had a significant influence on the work of Pieter de Hooch and Johannes Vermeer.

Nicolaes Maes is considered to have been Rembrandt’s pupil. It is a fair assumption but there is no certainty. The only ‘evidence’ we have comes from Arnold Houbraken’s history of Netherlandish Art, De groote schouburgh der Nederlantsche konstschilders en schilderessen (1721). Houbraken mentions nonchalantly that Maes learnt painting from Rembrandt and drawing from an unnamed “common artist”. And yes, some of the early works in this fascinating exhibition at the National Gallery are blatant copies of the master’s work. We know that Maes left his hometown Dordrecht and moved to Amsterdam before he had turned fourteen. If he was apprenticed to Rembrandt it would have lasted for about four years.

Even if he wasn’t Rembrandt’s pupil, it is obvious that he studied Rembrandt’s technique and his subject matters very carefully. Maes became so proficient that The Apostle Thomas (see picture) for 200 years was admired as a work by Rembrandt van Rijn. This depiction of an old man (as a saint) had Rembrandt’s signature and was dated 1656. In 1885 it became clear that the signature was false while the date was original. During the latest restoration in 1977 Maes’ name was not found anywhere, but all experts seem to agree that the only other artist, apart from Rembrandt, who could have painted such a warm and sympathetic portrait of the saint is the man from Dordrecht.

The Apostle Thomas (1656) was for centuries attributed  to Rembrandt. Today everyone agrees that Nicolaes Maes was responsible for this heartfelt ‘portrait’. 
© Museumslandschaft Hessen Kassel, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister

Nicolaes Maes was born in Dordrecht, a city in the south of Holland that has retained some of its atttractive features from the 17th century. Dordrecht was in the early days of the Dutch Republic an important commercial and religious centre. It was also (in the 17th century) the birthplace of many talented painters. Some of the most well-known artists are Aelbert Cuyp, Samuel van Hoogstraaten and Aert de Gelder.

Not much is known about Nicolaes’ childhood, but he did settle in Amsterdam around 1646. None of the work that he produced during that period (he was in his teens) is featured in this exhibition. The competition in the 1650s in Amsterdam would have been very tough for an artist who hadn’t yet established himself. After his apprenticeship (to Rembrandt?)  Maes returned to Dordrecht in 1653 and married a widow. The earliest works on display are history paintings, which was the genre that was most respected and commanded the highest fees. I think his take on Dürer’s engraving Adoration of the Shepherds is rather good. It is more or less an exact copy, but it has been enlarged and the oil paint colours add an extra dimension.

Nicolaes Maes copies Dürer in The Adoration of the Shepherds
Nicolaes Maes copied an engraving by Dürer very faithfully and skillfully coloured it in . The Adoration of the Shepherds, 1656–8
The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles

After moving back to Dordrecht Maes seems to have established himself pretty quickly.  He took up a form of genre painting that was becoming very popular and required a lot of technical skill. The influence of Rembrandt is still discernible, but Maes starts to work with more saturated colours (warm red and deep shiny black). I think Gerrit Dou’s exacting style had a profound influence on Maes, even though there is no obvious evidence. Maes’ domestic scenes pay great attention to detail, but they also quite often have a moralistic undertone. Lacemakers (see picture) are a subject that appealed to Maes (and Gerrit Dou!).  The Old Lacemaker (see picture) shows an old, but industrious woman who is a good example of the Calvinist work ethic. Maes also made several paintings depicting an old woman nodding off during work and this is meant to illustrate  idleness, which protestants of course couldn’t approve of. But Maes also likes to mock his subjects and his clients particularly appreciated that side of his repertoire.

Nicolaes Maes, The Old Lacemaker, about 1656 © Mauritshuis, The Hague / Photo: Margareta Svensson
Nicolaes Maes, The Old Lacemaker, about 1656
© Mauritshuis, The Hague / Photo: Margareta Svensson

The exhibition features four different Eavesdroppers (see featured image at the top of the page and below) and they are Maes’ signature paintings. The Eavesdroppers have all in common that in the foreground of the painting you see a woman standing/hiding on the landing or on the stairs spying on a maidservant and her lover in an adjoining room, basement or hallway.  We can see  the lovers, but the eavesdropper can’t. She looks straight at the viewer with a smile and raises a finger to her lips, thereby involving us in her secret overhearing business. There is a didactic message: servants distracted by amorous suitors are neglecting their duties. These type of pictures  confirm the contemporary view that domestic servants were in general pretty deceitful. All these domestic scenes  incorporate elements of meticulous still life painting (a cat, a detailed map on the wall,  a beer tankard, books, etc.). Surely the ‘School of Delft’ painters (de Hooch, Vermeer) saw some of Maes’ work and found inspiration in his well observed  intimate interiors.

Maes’ interest in genre scenes only lasted a few years and his decision to suddenly exclusively devote himself to portraiture painting can only have one explanation: portrait painting  was financially more profitable than genre painting. Maes moved back to Amsterdam where his potential clientele was richer and perhaps even more sophisticated. He briefly revives his Rembrandtesque approach, but in the 1670s the brown hues fell out of fashion and Maes adopted the lighter French Baroque style.  The portraits in this exhibition are well chosen but only a handful hold my attention.  Maes was very versatile , but he was no van Dyck even if he, after a visit to Antwerpen,  desperately tried to emulate the swagger and flashy style of the Flemish master.  Nicolaes Maes was an accomplished portraitist, but his true talent and originality can be seen in his warm and humorous domestic scenes.

This eavesdropper is spying on her employer who seems to have a row. Nicolaes Maes, The Eavesdropper, 1655, Harold Samuel Collection, Mansion House, London
© Guildhall Art Gallery, City of London

Nicolaes Maes, Dutch Master of the Golden age  at The National Gallery, London, until 20 September 2020

The refurbished Hans and Julia Rausing gallery contains many Baroque masterpiece, including a newly acquired self-portrait by Artemisia Gentileschi © The National Gallery, London

NATIONAL GALLERY REOPENS AND REINVENTS ITSELF

Do you think you know London’s National Gallery? Think again. The museum has reopened, now that the worst of the coronavirus pandemic is deemed to have passed. But all visitors are still expected to wear a face mask. You will have to book your ticket in advance, but the main collection can still be visited free of charge.

But nothing is like it was before. Yes, most of the same old pictures are still on display, but you can no longer crisscross between galleries. You have to choose and stick to one of three marked out routes and follow the arrows in a one-way system. So what will it be today? Route A is for renaissance masterpieces by the likes of van Eyck, Leonardo, Michelangelo and  Raphael. Or B?  starting in Venice and moving on via Hogarth, Gainsborough. sidetracked by Holbein only to end up with the impressionists. C is my flavour of the month with Caravaggio, the Flemish and Dutch masters, Monet, Turner and van Gogh among the highlights.

Rembrandt at National Gallery
Am I dreaming? A room full of Rembrandts, and on top of that the space more or less to myself. photo: Albert Ehrnrooth

The National Gallery’s central location has in the past made it an ideal place to kill some time between appointments. Quite frequently I would nip into the museum to study four or five paintings. The three new routes literally changes your perspective: you’re now offered a sort of self-guided, curated tour around the galleries.

I found this to be a very positive experience, because beside my favourites, I discovered works that I previously hadn’t taken notice of.

There are also a number of new acquisitions, loans and rehangs that deserve special attention. Most importantly the largest gallery space in the museum, room 32,  is now, after a 21-month refurbishment, ready to impress. The room’s decoration (see featured image above) has been returned to its original 1870s design , including twenty lunettes with dolphins and winged lions supporting the names of great masters. The gallery is named after Hans Rausing, the Swedish Tetra Pak billionaire, and his wife Julie who contributed £4 million to the refurbishment project.

The Rausing gallery is packed with Baroque paintings by masters like Caravaggio, Guido Reni, Guercino and Orazio Gentileschi. The latter painter’s The Finding of Moses (1630s) is now a permanent part of the collection. The large painting has been on loan to the museum since the 90s but was acquired  for £22 million in December.  A little bit too mannered and theatrical to be called a masterpiece, it is still worth searching out for its exquisite depiction of silk fabrics and baby Moses looks like a real wriggling infant.

Orazio Gentileschi The Finding of Moses
Orazio Gentileschi’s The Finding of Moses (cropped)The rendering of the silk dresses is impressive. Baby Moses looks real whereas the ladies look like a posturing bunch of acrtresses. Photo: Albert Ehrnrooth

King Charles I invited Orazio to Great Britain in 1626 and that is where he died 13 years later. His daughter Artemisia joined him in 1638 to assist with the ceiling paintings that were made for the Queen’s House in Greenwich.  Artemisia Gentleschi (1593 – 1654) was a great talent in her own right and the National Gallery had planned to celebrate her work in a major exhibition that  was due to open in April. The COVID-19 virus killed off the plans, for now. In the Rausing gallery Artemisia’s self-portrait has a place on the opposite wall of her father’s depiction of the basket case Moses.

In 2018 the National Gallery bought Artemisia’s Self-portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria for £3.6 million in July 2018. Saint Catherine’s left hand is resting on the wheel with the horrid spikes that crushed her. Artemisia was also subjected to torture during the  trial against the man who raped her, the painter Agostini Tassi. But in the role of St. Catherine Artemisia shows no sign of emotion. Many of her paintings have been interpreted as a response to the unfair rape trial , but this representation doesn’t seem to qualify. Unless….. this portrait is meant to depict her submission to the ethical doctrine of the Stoics. They tried to free themselves of emotional involvement and pain.

Artemisia Gentileschi
Artemisia was a respected woman artist who for a number of years worked for King Charles I before returning to Italy. The National Gallery will in the near future devote a major retrospective to her work.

Charles I  is surely the British royal that even up to this day can claim to have contributed most to his country’s artistic life. His magnificent collection of Flemish, Dutch, German and Italian paintings was unfortunately broken up and sold off by Cromwell, but some masterpieces were later bought back by Charles II.                    The National Gallery’s conservators  and scientists have quite recently finished the cleaning and restoration of Anthony van Dyck’s enormous Equestrian Portrait of Charles I. The discolouration and aberration in some  key areas has been restored and retouched and this slightly effete royal has regained some dynamic flourish.  It’s not up there with van Dyck’s other equestrian portrait, Charles I with M de St. Antoine,  which can be seen at Buckingham Palace (well, that is if it opens again over the summer months!). But this, in places almost sketchy, swagger portrait is certainly worth a detour.

So even if you think you know the National Gallery well, reconsider and book your ticket for a new passageway and pleasantly surprising walk through one of the world’s greatest collections.

Charles I Anthony van Dyck
Anthony van Dyck was Charles I’s favourite court painter. This equestrian portrait (van Dyck painted two) has recently been restored.
© The National Gallery, London

 

Plan your visit here:

https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/visiting/plan-your-visit