Domenico Tintoretto (1560–1635): Penitent Magdalene, c. 1598-1602, oil on canvas, Capitoline Museums, Rome. Raphael Sadeler I (c. 1560/61-1628/32): The Repentant St. Mary Magdalene, engraving, 1602, this impression in the collection of the British Museum. “Lady Ra'aba of Basra,” by an unknown 17th century artist, India, Mughal Empire, ink, gold and watercolour on paper, Victoria and Albert Museum, London. | "Lesser artists borrow; great artists steal." — various attributions, including Picasso and Igor Stravinsky The idea of intellectual property theft is a fairly recent phenomenon. Today we recognize that straightforward copying of another’s work is theft, and that appropriating the work/style of another culture can be a repeat of colonization. However, look through art history, and you will find many an homage, let alone outright steals. At the time, not necessarily considered wrong, so long as you weren’t representing your own work as the original work of another (aka forgery). Sometimes, one homage can lead to another. In Europe, engravings provided a cheaper alternative to fine art, disseminating the artist’s work through many countries, not only European ones, even traveling as far as the Mughal Empire of India. We see the progression in these three works. The Penitent Magdalene became a popular theme in European art during the Renaissance and Baroque eras. The gospels tell the story of Mary Magdalene: a woman Jesus delivers from 7 demons. She becomes His follower, then one of the women present at the Crucifixion and then the first of his followers to encounter Him after His Resurrection. Over time, her story merged with this one: “And there was a woman in the city who was a sinner; and when she learned that He was reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster vial of perfume, and standing behind Him at His feet, weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears, and she wiped them with the hair of her head, and began kissing His feet and anointing them with the perfume.” — Luke 7:37-38 (NASB2020) Later, this story merged with that of another Mary, the 4th Century desert ascetic Mary of Egypt, whose story pops up in a 7th century biography: a prostitute whose passionate embrace of the Christian faith impelled her to live the life of a hermit in the desert, devoted to prayer. In 591 AD Pope Gregory the Great combined all three stories in a sermon. And so the matter rested until Pope Paul VI officially ended the tradition in 1969. Never described by name in the gospels as a prostitute, this detail became imbedded in her story over time. Hence the theme of the Penitent, the Repentant Magdalene, still in sorrow for her alleged sins. And so, by way of an engraving based on Domenico Tintoretto’s original painting, we find a depiction of Rabiʿa al-Basri (717–801 C.E.). “Born in Basra in the 8th century of an impoverished family, orphaned and sold into slavery, Rabia al-Adawiyya… rose to become one of the greatest Sufi teachers. An extraordinary kaleidoscope of myth and reality, of imagination and fact... is it not of importance that a woman of such stature and independence of mind existed so early in the story of Islam, to show what women could be, and how they could be regarded?” https://islam786books.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=86_236&products_id=5567’ The Mughal artist in no way intends to conflate the Magdalene’s story with that of his own Saint. He translates the traditional Renaissance imagining into a story from his own culture. The Mughal artist’s work — an example of colonization of his culture by European models? One response to that question: “The Mughal response to European art was not slavish imitation but creative reinvention.” https://www.asianart.com/articles/minissale/ #domenicotintoretto #magdalene #magdalane #mughalart #renaissance |
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Ars longa, vita brevis?
Here I offer two of my recent just-for-fun sketches. Both drawn on my iPad Pro, Apple Pencil in hand, using the Sketch Club app. The one on the left is a fantasy Selfie, done in response to a challenge to draw a Silly Hat. I based the one on the right, titled Vero as a Clown, on a photo reference. And I had fun with both sketches. At the age of 69, I have serenely accepted the fact that I will never be a Name. In contradiction to what they taught us in Art School, this is okay. Some of the digital works that I have posted here and there — on my website, on social media, etc. will float around the internet for a time, then disappear sooner or later. My physical works will end up in the dumpster eventually. How many pieces of paper, let alone paintings, will my sons want to hold on to? How many will my grandchildren want when my sons are gone? Their children? Who among us remembers the Great Artists of history? Westerners probably recognize the names Michelangelo and Leonardo. Ninja Turtle fans know the names Donatello and Raphael but most of them wouldn’t recognize either artist’s work. Oh, but let’s go back 2,000 years! Do you remember the sculptors Pheidias, Skopas, Praxiteles, Lysippos? The painters Apelles of Kos, Apollodorus Skiagraphos? The vase painters Exekias, Euphronios? All enjoyed glory, fortune, fame. Today only people who have studied, at least in passing, the Arts of Ancient Greece recognize any of their names. Some ancient sculptures remain; many more have been lost, the marble shattered, the bronzes melted down to make weapons, armor, doors. Some pottery survives, most not. Paintings were the most fragile of all, although a few frescos still exist. Where will all these surviving works be in another 2,000 years? Ars longa, vita brevis? Both are brief; blink your eyes, both have disappeared. #sketchclubapp #digitalart #digiitalartist Between the coffee shop and the grocery store, a piece of undeveloped property stayed neglected for years. Each Spring, the wildflowers came. If we had a wet late Summer into Fall, the flowers bloomed in profusion. If drought, they came sparsely, but still a few would persist. The city has rules, even for undeveloped commercial property. The mowers would arrive. The flowers always grew back, just not as many. A month later, the mowers would return. Flowers would still bloom, but not as many. Again the mowers. Finally the heat of summer would take most of the flowers out anyway. The place I get my coffee has been at least 5 different coffee shops in the last 15 years, some more successful than others. The current owners have enjoyed much more success than any of the others ever did. For 15 years, I've gone to whatever coffee shop had the space. For 15 years, I have taken flower pictures there in the field. I have taken many, many sunset pictures from there too. Then CovidCovid hit, and then shutdowns, but the coffee shop offered drive-through and curbside. I would sit under the tree nearest the coffee shop, gaze at the field, drink my cappuccino, listen to music, think, pray. Enjoy my quiet time. But, the field had a lot of trash. A LOT. That trash disturbed my serenity. So, I would take a little grocery bag, put on gloves, and pick up trash until the bag was full. Then, toss it into into the dumpster. The next day, I would do it again. After awhile, I had room left in the bag to pick up some parking lot trash too, on my way to the dumpster. Eventually, I had the field so cleaned up, I just picked up parking lot trash. Eureka! I noticed, If I picked up trash in the parking lot, it didn't blow into the field. I think I've averaged 4 or 5 days a week of picking up trash for about three years now. Usually takes about an hour or less. It's not that the parking lot was always full to the brim with trash. Not at all. But, most days I could fill up one grocery store bag, toss it in the dumpster, then sit under the tree with serenity, enjoying the trash-free field. So don't be putting a halo on my head. After all I did it more for myself than for anyone else! But, all good things must come to an endI get it. The owners have to pay taxes on the property whether or not it brings them income. The city finally okayed their permits. I met the owner a few months ago. He said "Thank you for all you do here!" I thanked him as well. I knew the development was coming. I told him how much the wildflowers meant to me. And, I noticed this time around, the field went unmowed for a longer stretch than usual. I wonder if he decided, "Let's wait for the letter from the city and THEN mow." I like to think, he let me have the wildflowers just a bit longer, one more month before everything would change. The bulldozers arrived. Fencing around the tree I always sit under. I'm happy the tree will at least remain.. Most of the other trees will be gone. Fill will be trucked in -- a LOT of fill. Then, as at the song says, "See a lovely spot, put up a parking lot." And then, three new little strip centers. I cried a little, that first day I couldn't sit under the tree. That nondescript, undeveloped field had come to mean the world to me. But I haven't only shed those few tears. I've also prayed "Thank you God for the time you gave me this field." Assignment: find a new spotI don't think I'll be able to reproduce what I had in that special spot. But, I'm praying for another spot, one special in its own way. Due to continuing development, every place around here has become way too carefully landscaped. But, I have hope.. Shout out to the baristasDuring the shut downs, I ordered my coffee online for pickup. At a certain point, the baristas started just bringing it to me under the tree. They were so sweet, so kind. If they had time, we would chat for just a minute or two before they had to hurry back. Shut downs have been over for awhile now. I'm vaccinated. So, I go in and order, then I've taken my coffee to the tree. The baristas have continued to be very kind and sweet. I wonder if they see me as an adorably eccentric gray haired lady, always wearing a hat with a brim, the lady who keeps the parking lot picked up? I am very fond of them all, the ones who have moved on to other jobs, the ones there now. Coda: A flower, guarding the field at sunsetGoodbye to the flowers, the butterflies, the bees, the sunsets. So happy for the time we had. Thanks for the memories.
Still experimenting with selfies. I can explore portraiture without worrying about pleasing a client. This freedom really opens up creative possibilities. I explore different palettes, textures, effects. It's not about trying to make myself look conventionally attractive. Female beauty is a cultural construct, as we can easily learn from art history. Here are a few recent examples, all shot with my iPhone 12 Pro Max. Edited in some or all of the following apps: Tintype, Hipstamatic, Camera+, Carbon, Distressed FX, Instagram. #iphonography
I delete many more photos than I keep, and I print much fewer than I keep uploaded to my computer. Here are a few photos, one recent, others from past years, that received much more positive feedback than I ever expected. So often, we aren't the best judges of our own work.We have no way to know how many great works of art have been lost through the centuries, some to natural disaster, some to war, bronzes melted down to make armaments, paintings ripped up for oil rags, marble sculptures broken to use for building materials, wooden sculptures and works on paper burned for warmth In times of need. Pragmatic people will use what is at hand. Most heartbreaking: those lost or damaged in wartime. We can sympathize with people using materials they genuinely need. But the sheer waste of war, the uselessness of it? As the song goes, "War -- what is it good for? Absolutely nothing!" The three works below were all damaged in what has been called the Flakturm Friedrichshain Fire. Flakturm: a large, above-ground, anti-aircraft tower. Tragically, a treasure-trove of masterpieces had been stored there for their protection. Instead, over 400 paintings and about 300 sculptures from the Kaiser-Friedrich-Museum in Berlin, now the Bode Museum, were lost to either looting or to the fires. How did the fires break out? The Germans blamed the Russians, the Russians blamed the Germans. Whoever knew, they are undoubtably gone today. The Soviets confiscated many surviving artworks, even those severely damaged. The three works below, damaged in that fire, are beautiful even in their brokenness, reminding us of our own fragility, how fleeting our lives truly are. Portrait of a Young Girl, attributed to Mino da Fiesole (c. 1429-1484)On the left, the sculpture as it appears today. On the right, a plaster cast, in the collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum, done before the original was damaged. The broken sculpture is part of a joint restoration project of the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts in Moscow and the Bode Museum in Berlin. The Friedrichshain Madonna, c. 1450, terracotta, by Luca della Robbia (c. 1399/1400-1482)Despite the smoke damage and its fragmented state, I find such a touching sweetness in this work, currently part of the restoration project. ![]() Kneeling Angel, by Giambattista di Alberto Bregno (1482-1520)Rather than being part of the reconstruction project, this work is on display at the Bode Museum in Berlin. Originally the hands were clasped in prayer. For more information about the works lost in that terrible fire, see: https://www.nga.gov/research/library/imagecollections/features/kaiser-friedrich.html For more information about the joint restoration project of the Bode Museum and the Pushkin, see: https://www.museumconservation.ru/?lang=en #arthistory Most people want photos of themselves to be as flattering as possible. Boudoir photography might be the premiere example of our time. It's understandable -- but frustrating for the artist who would rather explore creating portraits that are interesting, unusual, quirky. One ready solution: selfies. I'm available -- after all, everywhere I go, there I am. And I don't have to worry about presenting myself in a conventionally flattering manner -- no need to please a family member, friend or client. So, here are some photos I have done in the last few months, going for more drama, expressiveness, experimenting with lighting, color and textural effects. All shot with my iPhone 12 Pro Max and edited in multiple apps. My favorite editing apps include Camera+2, Hipstamatic, Carbon, Instagram, and Photos. Here are a few examples. Click to see full image. I do sometimes attempt something a little more "flattering." Here are two:
Just over a year ago, I joined the People Making Portraits Meetup Group https://www.meetup.com/People-Making-Portraits ). The group meets via Zoom. It took at little time to get over the discomfort of meeting virtually, but I have come to enjoy connecting to other people. We have members from many different locations. Most are in the Austin,Texas metro area, but we have had participants on the East Coast, West Coat, Middle America, Europe, the Middle East. We take turns posing for each other; very short poses, nothing longer than 20 minutes. Here are just a few examples. All drawn freehand on my iPad Pro, using the Sketch Club app and Apple Pencil .
Looking at art history. Here we have a fragment of a sculpture: God the Father, c. 1510, from the workshop of Andrea della Robbia (1435-1525). Terracotta, partly enameled, with some of the color still visible, but most worn off. I see fragments of sculptures as so evocative of the uncertainty of life. "Change and decay in all around I see," says the old hymn. "Oh, Thou who changes not, abide with me."
Luca della Robbia (1399/1400--1482) born in Renaissance Florence became a true innovator in the medium of glazed terracotta. He took the humble material of clay (terracotta means "cooked earth") and created beautiful, luminous works using colorful, reflective glazes. He started a very successful family enterprise. His nephew Andrea, who created this piece, inherited the workshop in 1482. Five of Andrea's children joined in the business. Della Robbia sculptures can be found all over Florence and other cities, with many works in museums all over the world. The Victoria & Albert Museum owns this work, but it is not on view. Fragments so rarely are, when a museum owns complete works. It's a pity tho. Today you can find "Della Robbia" knock-off pottery on Etsy and eBay. The name lives on. Looking at art history. Michelangelo's unfinished sculpture of St. Matthew. I have seen it in Florence, at the Accademia where the more famous David stands on display. I find this sculpture profoundly moving in his rough, unfinished state. The artist himself once wrote: "Every block of stone has a statue inside it, and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it." Matthew, the tax collector who dropped everything to follow Christ, emerges from the marble, muscled, powerful, the book of the Gospel in his hand. When looking at a preparatory drawing and the painting based on it, I almost always prefer the drawing. We see the artist's hand at work, the mind thinking. In the same way, in this unfinished work, we see Michelangelo's hand, holding the chisel, his mind making choices of just where to place the tool. The unfinished work is "in the rough," but not imperfect, not found wanting. The website Michelango.org (https://www.michelangelo.org/the-saint-matthew.jsp) describes it thus: "The standing pose includes a cube-shaped base on which the left foot is raised forcing the knee to protrude; this results in the unusual spiraling that passes into every part of the anatomy, in fieri, of the Evangelist apostle, all the way up to the upwards turn of his head towards divine inspiration -- at once the calling the the source of the book he hold in his left hand. The daring contrapposto, the dynamism pervading the saint's body in every direction, a body that is tense and distressed as it harks the divine inspiration." In fieri: in process, underway, beginning to have existence. And now a perhaps relevant quote from St. Paul of the Cross: "The statue must be chiseled with very sharp tools before it is fit to be placed in the grand gallery." And my own thought. We don't like being chiseled ourselves. We chose how to respond: to become bitter or better, serene or sour. #michelangelo #matthew #michelangelomatthew
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