Time to Van Gogh

As I mentioned a few days ago the big "blockbuster" exhibition at the National Gallery for this summer is Van Gogh: Up Close - the first major showing of a collection of the Dutch post-impressionists paintings in Canada for 25 years.  The first time I saw a real Van Gogh would have been in the late 1950s - if my fading memory serves me right.   I vaguely remember lining up to shuffle - and in some case be shoved - passed some of his more famous works at the old AGO.  I do recall a flash of brilliant yellow and orange sunflowers until someone barked at me that "others wanna see the pictures too you know!" or at least that was the gist of the remark.  Ah the sophistication of Toronto in the 1950s.

The opening night of the current exhibition dragged that memory out of the fog of time as we joined the crowds gathering around the 40 paintings that have been culled from private and public collections from around the world.  It was difficult to appreciate the stated purpose of the exhibition to give us an "up close" view of his development - the volume of people meant you were either at a distance or really really close up.  I'll hold off on giving an opinion on it after a second - hopefully less crowded - visit in the next month or two.

Painted in Paris early in 1887 this is one of a series of canvases capturing the worn
footwear of a labourer.  The Cone Collection, Baltimore Museum of Fine Art  

But as so often happens I found that as lovely as the Iris and the Almond Blossom paintings are I was captivated by a still life Van Gogh completed in 1887 of a pair of old shoes.  Shoes were the subject of at least seven of his oils between 1886 and 1888.  Not the shoes of the ladies and gentleman of the salons but the worn, scuffed and oft mended shoes of labourers and workmen.  There have been lectures, dissertations and the odd thesis written about the meaning of these works.  Is Van Gogh using them as a metaphor for the wearing artistic road he has chosen?  Do the shoes symbolize the rough existence of the painter in an unappreciative world?  Or are they just a pair of shoes? Simply just another subject for a still-life?  What ever it is I found it one of the more interesting paintings in the exhibition.

Van Gogh purchased a number of woodcut prints in the dockyards at Antwerp and began to paint
copies of several of them including this one of The Plum Garden in Kameido.  I have to say that
I prefer the Hiroshige original(left) to the Van Gogh copy. I find he has turned something
that was light and has life into a dark, flat and ponderous vision.

100 Famous Views of Edo
Evening Shower at Atake
and the Great Bridge
Hiroshige - 1856-1856

Now I may just be being perverse but on first viewing I enjoyed two other related exhibits more than the major one.   With the opening of trade from Japan Ukiyo-e had begun to appear on the European scene at the time and Van Gogh had purchased a series of the stylized woodblock paintings that were to influence many of his works.  I had forgotten that the Royal Ontario Museum has an extensive collection of these pieces; thirty of them were on loan to the Gallery as illustrations of the style and their impact on the painter.  The majority of them were by the renowned and much revered 18th century artist Hiroshige - Van Gogh painted copies of several of the Japanese master's works.  My own feeling was that though it did accomplish its stated purpose - to illustrate their influence on Van Gogh  - this small exhibition was of such quality and interest that it could have stood very well on its own.

One of the thirty five small landscapes that Augustin Hirschvogel etched between 1545 and 1549.  This small jewel
is only 5.4 by 15.5 cms (2.126" by 6.102") but is filled with details that bring the scene to life.

Perhaps a little more obscure in purpose was a collection of graphics - etchings, pen and ink - from the National Gallery's own collection.  Many of the pieces on display are squirrelled  away in the archives of the Gallery - there just isn't enough space - and aren't often on display.  A lady beside mentioned that they can be viewed by arrangement with the gallery - which is perhaps a project for the future????  There were three in particular that immediately attracted me and that I must admit I spent more time in front of than anything else at the exhibition.   First and foremost was a small landscape by Augustin Hirschvogel - a tiny perfect view of a small town.  Hirschvogel was a member of the Danube School and is best known for a series of small landscapes he etched between 1545 and 1549.  I was fascinated by the detail that he achieved in a medium which he had only taken up in the last decade of his life.

Kolbe's The Cow in the Reeds is typical of his work - the vegetation takes on
gigantic proportions and dominates the scene almost overwhelming the resting cow.  Perhaps given all that
greenery the cow has decided she would be foolish to leave such abundant grazing.

Beside the Hirschvogel was a lovely study of St Jerome and the Lion amongst Ruins from the same period.  I haven't been able to track down anything about it either on the Gallery's website or through Google.  I will have to make another visit to find out more about it.  From a later period (1801) was an etching by Karl Wilhelm Kolbe, a German artist who seemed to have a bit of an obsession with cows.  A quick search revealed that his studies of various flora seemed to have cows as their fauna on more than one occasion.  I found The Cow in the Reeds which he did somewhere between 1800 and 1803 a delight.  It took a bit to find the cow but she is definitely there and seem quite quite contented.

During a bit of a hiatus in my work life at the beginning of July - more about that another time - I'll try and get back to the Gallery for a second more leisurely look.  But in the meantime I'm gearing up for the possibility of more Van Gogh's when I spend a few days in Amsterdam next week  - and more about that later.

02 June - 1846: Birth of the Italian Republic: In a referendum, Italians vote to turn Italy from a monarchy into a Republic.

Happy Belated Birthday Quinquin

Or perhaps I should say belated greetings to, to give him his full name, Octavian Maria Ehrenreich Bonaventura Fernand Hyacinth Rofrano. January 26th was the 100th anniversary of the first appearance of the young Count at the front door of the Von Fanninal residence bearing a silver rose for young Sophie and autumnal heartbreak for Princess Marie Thérèse von Werdenberg.

Throughout the week in Salzburg and Vienna we had heard Mozart, Berg, Haydn, Shostakovitch, Handel, Schubert and J.C. Bach but not a note of Strauss. As compensation we saluted the composer and Der Rosenkavalier, perhaps his most famous work, by stopping last Sunday at a small but beautifully curated exhibition at the Austrian National Library.

It was mounted among the towering book shelves in the baroque splendour of the State Hall (click here for a virtual view of this splendid room) - the great central room built in the 1720s for Emperor Charles VI by Joseph Emanuel Fischer von Erlach to plans drawn up by his father Joseph Emanuel. As the opera takes place the 1740s, the early years of the reign of Charles' daughter Marie Thérèse, the venue was highly appropriate.

The room serves as the repository for over 200,000 books dating from 1501 to 1850 and includes display cases that change regularly of many of the great early treasure of incunabula, manuscripts and illuminations in the Library collection. The most fascinating, for me at least, was a Book of Hours written in silver ink on velum that had been stained black. It is one of only four known to exist and was more awesome in reality than these examples would indicated.

Arranged around the statue of founder Charles VI the Rosenkavalier exhibition showcased Strauss's original score, Von Hofmannsthal's manuscript with Strauss' musical notations, photos, letters and documents from its premiere and the composer's life in Vienna. And included a wonderful life-size display of Alfred Roller's costume designs for that first performance, rotating mirrors reflecting both the designs and the relationships in the opera.

For the video in HD *just left click here to go to YouTube.

For such a old fellow I must admit that QuinQuin is looking and sounding pretty youthful and is still able to break hearts. As the Marschallin so rightly muses: Die Zeit, die ist ein sonderbar Ding - Time, it is a strange thing!

*And as I've just realized if you want to read the commentary!!!!

04 febbraio - San Giovanniccio

More Bronzino Dogs and Doggerel

In his portraits of the rich and ruling, Bronzino would include props that indicated the various virtues and achievements of his sitters. Take as an example the dog in this painting of Guidobaldo II della Rovere, the first official portrait painted by the Florentine artist in 1530-32 during his stay in Pesaro. No doubt the dog was a favourite of young nobleman but he is also a symbol of his station in life. The animal would reflect his noble origins, hunting being the pastime of aristocrats. And notice how he draws our attention to two things very subtly: Guidobaldo's hands lead our eyes to the helmet, indicating his military position and to his faithful companion, his hunting dog - there is no doubting his caste. The purpose of the large codpiece was not necessarily to suggest an actual physical feature of the 18 year old heir to the Duchy of Urbino but more to stress his virility and ability to produce sons to carry on the family line.

Guidobaldo II della Rovere - Bronzino 1530-32 Pesaro

And this portrait of unknown Lady - the exhibition catalogue goes into a lengthy hypothesis on her identity - is filled with symbolic details that would have literally painted a glowing picture of her character to all viewers. The little lap dog isn't just a noble lady's toy - a spaniel, such as this little guy, alludes to fidelity and in this case most likely refers to conjugal faithfulness. In the same way the rosary wrapped around her wrist tells us of her religious devotion and the books so readily to hand suggest that she is a lover of poetry. A devoted wife, a devote catholic and a devotee of poetry - the perfect portrait of a noblewoman.

Portrait of a Lady with a Lap Dog - Bronzino 1530-32 Pesaro (?)

And in their delightful verses - that they have wittily subtitled Twenty ways to look at Bronzino - Roberto Piumini and Konrad Eisenbichler remark on how well behaved this little creature is.

Ad una dama non pesa posare,
restando ferma lì, per ore e ore,
perché, alla fine, potrà ammirare,
il bel ritratto fatto dal pittore.

un cucciolo, però, come lo tieni?
A lui, cosa importa del ritratto?
Non lo fermi con lacci né con freni:
ma allora, questa dama, come ha fatto?

Guardi, e scopri il gioco. Lei teneva
qualcosa (ma che cosa?) e annuciava:
«Ura la butto!» ma non lo faceve,
e lui, paziente e immobile, aspettava.

This fine lady is willing to pose
For long hours and she doesn't care
For she knows that this sitting all goes
For a portrait of her in her chair.

But, her little pet dog, what's he know?
What's he care of her portrait, so fine?
He is dying to jump up and go
Play with balls, and with toys, and with twine

Do you know how she made him sit so still?
She kept twirling that ball in her hand
With a grace that concealed a great skill
And enchanted her dog just as planned.

Cherci nei Quadri/Hide and Seek

Roberto Piumini - Konrad Eisenbichler
2010 Fondazione Palazzo Strozzi, Firenze
2010 Alias, Firenze

It may be purchased through their on-line store

18 gennaio - Santa Prisc

Gods, Guns and Butterfly Wings

It is often the unexpected that gives delight and proves "worth the detour" as Michelin so nicely puts it. The main entrance to the Palazzo delle Esposizioni has been turned into a replica of the steps of a temple in the mysterious city of Teotihuacan and the La città degli Dei exhibition advertised throughout the city. Arranged in collaboration with the Mexican government it is the major attraction of three exhibits at the Palazzo celebrating two major events in the history of Mexico: the 200th anniversary of the fight of Independence and the 100th of the beginning of the Revolution.

Città is indeed a major display of archaeological items from the once great city-state that existed 45 kms north of what is now Mexico City. Many of the items come from the famous Museo Nacional de Antropologia as well other Mexican and International collections. However I found it less of interest than the two exhibits that surrounded it. If I sound a little jaded it is just that I have climbed the Pyramid of the Moon and walked the Avenue of the Dead on at least 14 occasions and spent many hours at the Museo Nacional during our time in the DF. Not that there were not new wonders to see or remarkable items to become reacquainted with but more that familiarity had perhaps dulled my sense of awe at what was a beautifully displayed group of artifacts. As an interesting little side bar: most of the display cabinets were mounted on boxes of sandy earth much like what you find yourself walking in on a visit to the actual site. A clever touch on the part of the exhibition designers.

One of the iconic photographs of the Mexican Revolution - Soldaderas aboard a train - they served as camp followers (nursing, feeding, providing sexual companionship) but would also engage in battle when required.

The second floor houses what I found to be the more interesting of the two major exhibitions: Mexico: Immagini di una Rivoluzione*. 179 black and white photographs trace the ten bloody years (1910-1920) of the Revolution. Though some of the photos are posed there are a goodly number of scenes on the actual battlefields which are remarkable considering the equipment of the time. Most of the key players of the Revolution - Diaz, Zapata, Madero, Pancho Villa (left) - are captured on gelatin and glass plate but so are the ordinary players in the conflict. Many of the photos are brutal - mangled bodies, the moment of execution, hospital wards, hanged corpses held up by their captors for the camera - others are almost laughable such as a group of society ladies posing with rifles and a Revolutionary commander. But all of them reveal aspects of the conflict and the struggle to forge a new Mexico. And kudos to John Mraz (Universidad Autónoma di Puebla) and his curatorial team for their well thought-out theme-sections and explanations placing the photos in both their social, technical and historical context.

The third exhibit came as a happy surprise. Our friend Joe, who is a big fan of modern art, mentioned it but I, having been exposed to quite a few tedious examples during our time in Poland, tend to be wary of "installations". Carlos Amorales: Remix is the Mexican artist's first show in Italy and is made up of five pieces based on his use of what he calls an Archivo líquido - or an archive of digital photos he has taken, downloaded or scanned. He works with this archive to create drawings, slides, videos, collages, paintings, sculptures and installations. Often his work appears only as enormous groupings of black silhouettes on white grounds. Sometimes they can seem threatening, at others joyful or again just perplexing. The five installations overlap and it is can be difficult to see where one begins and the other ends.

Drifting Star is a gigantic mobile of 751 black Plexiglas fragments suspended in the central exhibition area. Wandering amongst them is a rather dazzling experience - a bit like being lost in a euphoric moment in Star Wars.

And dazzling would be the word for this swam of butterflies in Black Cloud. Amorales has created 25,000 paper silhouettes of 30 different types of butterflies that swarm over walls and ceilings. I swear you can almost hear the flapping of their wings - I was reminded of the yearly Butterfly Migration from Canada and the U.S. to Michoacan and Mexico states.

Again an unexpected delight and like the Photography exhibit definitely more than "worth the detour".

And a more than satisfactory way to break up the gallery strolling was the great buffet lunch - gods before, guns and butterflies after - at the Palazzo's Colonna Restaurant. An excellent choice of dishes, a good selection of wines and attentive service by a young and friendly staff. The price for the buffet or the daily menu is reasonable and the vaulted glass setting isn't too shabby either.

*For some reason this exhibit ends on January 9th while the rest are in place until the end of February??? Strano, as we say, molto strano!

05 gennaio - San Telesforo

Family Portraits

Despite my constant complaining about their website TrenItalia does make travel within Italy remarkably easy to most of the major cities. With their new Frecce high speed trains Napoli is only 90 minutes from Roma as is Firenze in the other direction. So Sunday it came as no surprise heading back on the 2010 out of Firenze to see a fair number of people in our car clutching - as where my friend Peter and I - programmes from the Maggio Musicale performance of Verdi's La Forza del Destino and catalogues from the Bronzino exhibition at the Palazzo Strozzi.

We had taken a morning train up and arrived - in the pouring rain - at Santa Maria Novella with enough time to catch the exhibition, have a leisurely lunch at Trattoria 4 Leoni and make the late afternoon performance at the Teatro Communale. And we were back home in Roma by 2200. A full day but a good one.

Peter had seen the exhibition earlier in the fall and wanted another peak in. I wasn't all that familiar with Bronzino's work so was more than happy to accompany him. We hadn't reserved and being a Sunday and rainy we had to line up for about 20 minutes but as with all line ups here the wait had its entertainment value. Its always fun to watch the attempts to jump queue and the pantomimes of astonishment or indignation when the heretofore invisible line up is indicated and suggestions made that the culprit go to the end of it. The attendant was obviously adroit at handling myopic and offended patrons of the arts who had never waited in a line at any other museum anywhere else in the world.

As with so many of the exhibitions here the design was exceptional, the flow from early works through the allegorical, the sacred and court portraiture was presented with style and flair. Pieces were put into the context of other artists and influences of the period and included poetry by Bronzino and his contemporaries who were members of a poet's society of the time. Descriptions were in Italian and English and included verses - again in Italian and English - written in the slightly doggerel style Bronzino and his friends used in verses circulated amongst themselves.

Angelo Bronzino was a Florentine born and bred and though his travels took him to Pesaro and the delle Rovere court he returned to his home town and the employ of Cosimo I de'Medici. He was official court portrait painter to the Medici family from 1539 until his death in 1572.

It was these portraits that I found the most interesting and that gave me the greatest pleasure. When discussing it later on the train with fellow passengers I mentioned that the details was incredible but that it was the eyes that gave his likeness of the great and those around them life 500 years later.


Even the formal clothing of the court can't hide the cheerful aspects of a pudgy two year old Giovanni de' Medici painted in 1545. As healthy a child as he looks in this portrait he suffered from tuberculosis in his early teenage years. He was the son chosen to enter the church and was first Archbishop of Pisa and then made a cardinal at the age of 17. Two years later he was dead from a malaria attack. He* and his mother Eleanor of Toledo are the subject of the remarkable painting chosen for the poster and catalogue cover for the exhibition.

One of the more intriguing works was this double sided portrait of Cosimo's dwarf Morgante. Braccio di Bartolo (his nickname was a joke based on the name of a giant in an epic poem of the period) had joined Cosimo's court around 1540. Though he was an entertainer he also was known for for his kindness and cleverness and was much beloved by the Duke. He accompanied him on several diplomatic missions and Cosimo bequeathed him land and the right to marry.

This two sided portrait shows Morgante preparing for the night hunt with an owl on the retro and triumphantly displaying his catch on the verso. In the 18th century it was considered an obscene work and his nakedness was heavily over-painted with vines and grapes. It has been recently restored and is now being displayed for the first time in several centuries as Bronzino painted it. Though he had some privilege at court, like all dwarfs, he was there as a curiosity and was often the object of ridicule and humiliation from courtiers, functionaries and courtesans. Now 450 years later they have all been forgotten but Morgante lives on in Bronzino's work and in sculptures by Giambologna and Valerio Cioli.

With the time at hand I couldn't fully appreciate all of the more than 80 works on display so it may mean another day trip up to Firenze. After all thanks to TrenItalia its only 90 minutes away.

There are several articles on the Internet on the exhibition and an interesting video in English on YouTube: Bronzino in Florence.


*Though most sources indicate that the sitter is Giovanni, as mentioned in the catalogue, recent suggestions have arisen that given the date of the portrait - 1545 - it may be his elder brother Francesco.

29 novembre - Sant'Andrea apotolo

Sunlight on the Side of A House

I was first fully aware of who Edward Hopper was back in 1981 when I fell in love with Pennies From Heaven, a musical film fantasy with Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters based on Dennis Potter's successful BBC TV Series. The settings for several scenes were right out of Hopper paintings - and the one I recognized immediately was his most famous: Nighthawks. A bit of investigation - the library, yes Virginia we went to the library back in those days - revealed more about him and his work and I number him amongst the 20th century artists that I adore.

When the Hopper exhibition at the Museo di Roma was first advertised on billboards throughout town I made a note to myself that I really had to catch it. And finally I did last weekend - further note to self: try to catch these things other than on the day before they close.

This retrospective has toured several cities here in Italy with Roma being its last stop. I had been hoping that Nighthawk would be amongst the paintings but sadly its still hanging in its usual place at the Art Institute of Chicago. But they did have a marvelous life-sized mock up of the scene and allowed you to have your photo taken in it. Being the shy person I am, I declined as really if Hopper had wanted an extra person in the scene he would have painted them in.

If his most famous painting wasn't there then certainly others quite recognizable as the work of the Nyack born artist were. Included were some of his early work from Paris, including Soir Bleu and a series of wonderful caricatures. Many of his graphic works from his earlier New York days revealed the subjects he would return to again and again but in shades of black and white.

One of the interesting features was the work ups for so many of the paintings that were included - it appears that Hopper or more specifically his wife and chief model Jo saved pretty much everything he did. When she died in 1968 - a year after Hopper - she left almost 3000 items to the Whitney Museum. Needless to say much of the exhibition was on loan from them.

At the beginning of the exhibition Hopper is quoted as, rather ingeniously, saying: All I ever wanted to do was paint sunlight on the side of a house., And that he did do - on houses in both urban and rural settings. But he also painted lamplight in streets and parks, the flickering lights in a movie cinema, the clotted light of industrial cities, the clear air of New England, the glare of neon on an interior and the first sun of morning through an open window on the walls of a room and the body of his beloved Jo.

Morning Sun was painted in 1952 and as usual Hopper did a series of drawings before brush touched paint or canvas.

Hopper worked with Conté crayons for most of his preliminary drawings. The top drawing was obviously his initial thoughts on the composition and you can trace the line of this thinking as the drawings become more and more detailed.

What I found fascinating was his detailed notation on colours and shadings to be used once he got to work. Noting the effects he wants to achieve, the degrees of light and shadow within the painting and the shading of colours. This was the first time I was aware of an artist taking that approach - I guess much of my view on how painters work is based on how they do it in Hollywood.

Obviously these notations were meant as guidelines and there would be deviations but it is interesting to see how often those first thoughts are present in the finished work.


As with most of Hopper's work the lines are clean, at first glance the colours deceptively seem primary and the subject seems very ordinary. What makes its extraordinary is Hopper's ability to "paint sunlight".

The preliminary drawings are all from the Hopper collection at the Whitney Museum, the painting itself is in the care of the Columbus Museum of Art in Ohio.

18 giugno - Sant'Erasmo di Formia