Sister Wendy's 1000 Masterpiecesby Sister Wendy Beckett, Patricia Wright, Patricia Wright (Contribution by)
Sister Wendy Beckett writes about art in a style that is idiosyncratic, fresh, and perceptive. In 1000 Masterpieces, she applies her unique intensity to what most inspires her in the artist's work as well as to the essential life events that shaped the work. Arranged alphabetically by artist, each work receives a full page of attention. The text contains information, annotated where necessary on materials and techniques, on the artist's symbolism, and on the location where the original work is displayed.
- Publication date:
- Edition description:
- First American Edition
- Product dimensions:
- 10.24(w) x 12.36(h) x 1.40(d)
Read an Excerpt
Some people find the very idea of masterpieces irritating: an elitist attempt to impose high culture. The medieval apprentice would have found this baffling Whatever his craft, he graduated into the happy position of being a master when he had served his time and produced his "masterpiece." At this homely level, an artist's masterpiece is a solid piece of work well constructed and admirable making no claims to world importance. Such a work can bring endless pleasure, and the least of the paintings in this book is just such a masterpiece. However, this is a masterpiece at its most modest. If every painting in this book is a masterpiece, then some are more masterly than others. Great art offers more than pleasure; it offers the pain of spiritual growth, drawing us into areas of ourselves that we may not wish to encounter. It will not leave us in our mental or moral laziness. It is not just that we are privileged to see the world through the insight of a genius great though that experience is but that the painter's insights awaken and challenge us, and we end up changed. We pass from the less demanding to the more, and then back again, constantly widening our love, knowledge, and understanding. Part of the fascination of this book is the divergence of quality: always good, sometimes great, sometimes overwhelming absolute masterpieces like the Sistine Chapel, which are among the world's greatest achievements. I defy anyone to find a work here unworthy of its place, although you might well wonder why this particular work was chosen rather than that! Where is your favorite Giotto,or Picasso's Guernica? (The answer to the last is that it is not here because I think it is a wonderful propaganda poster rather than painting.) A thousand sounded so many until we got down to it and then began the anguish of choice. This is a book where the pictures alone matter; the purpose of the text is to keep you in the presence of the painting. Look long enough, and each one will work its magic on you.
Albers, Josef 1888-1976 b. Germany
STUDY for HOMAGE to the SQUARE
The extraordinary subtlety with which colors interact how one shade can change another and relate to a third so fascinated Josef Albers that he decided to restrict his paintings to geometrical patterns. By using the square, that most common of forms, he hoped to withdraw the viewer from any involvement in the interest of the actual object. But in blending and relating colors within the square, he hoped that the eye would be infinitely tantalized and delighted by a sense of what color truly was. (He claimed, for example, that he had eighty kinds of yellow alone.) Here, he is playing with a deep pink, with the square that encloses it in an infinitesimally lighter pink, and, outside that, a pale orange all held within another square of a still-lighter orange. This is the kind of subtle modulation of color that a casual glance all too easily misses. Albers sacrificed so much of the interest and beauty that we expect from a work of art, solely in order to concentrate on this color play. In doing it, he makes us aware of the lovely silence that, with intelligent perception, can flow from one color to another.
Albertinelli, Mariotto 1474-1515 b. Italy
In the Gospels, we read how Mary was told that her elderly cousin Elizabeth had become pregnant with John the Baptist and that she set out to help Elizabeth. When the women met, the children in their womb Jesus and John seemed to communicate. Elizabeth said that she could feel her unborn child leaping for joy. The image of the two pregnant women meeting and communicating is a beautiful one, and Albertinelli depicts it in all its dignity. Both women are majestic figures, meeting before a great arch that symbolizes the entrance through the womb into history that their unborn sons will soon be making. Elizabeth bends humbly before the mother of her Lord while Mary has the extraordinary experience of meeting, for the first time, one who understands her singular destiny. The clasped hands, the inclining bodies, the meeting of the eyes all express with understated power this communion of spirit. Albertinelli seems to understand the rarity of meeting another who can enter into one's own experience. It seems to be a meeting between two heroes. Mary's beautiful face is awestruck as she looks with a tender smile at the elderly woman who embraces her. There is a beautiful richness of color here: the flowing golden-orange and dark green of Elizabeth's clothes and the rough wool of her white scarf make a wonderful union with the subdued splendor of Mary's blue and red. The intensity, of both emotion and color, leaves no space for the landscape that is just visible at either edge. These two rejoicing women are a country all to themselves.
Allori, Cristofano 1577-1621 b. Italy
JUDITH with the HEAD of HOLOFERNES
When Holofernes invaded Palestine, it was the beautiful widow Judith who went into his camp, lured him with drink, and then, when he was insensible, beheaded him, carrying the trophy back in triumph to her people. This powerful woman fascinated many Renaissance artists. She subverted the feminine role, taking for herself the emotions of aggression and triumph something, apparently, that men of the time feared in womankind. Allori's Judith possesses an exceptional loveliness: her face is both sensual and pure. She poses for us, aware of her status as heroine, one who controls the situation with effortless ease. But the very innocence and grace of her appearance make the dichotomy between what she is and what she has done seem more alarming.
The severed head is that of a mature tyrant a savage head, outlined by the golden damask of her garment, and forming an intriguing contrast with the slender elegance of her own head, which rises almost directly above it. The face of the maid is an elderly contrast to both. Her look of awe and unease emphasizes for us the true magnitude of the act that this casual and beautiful young woman has brought herself to perform.
One notices that the body under the robes is slender this is a very young woman, however dating her deeds. She is dressed in robes of the utmost richness and splendor. Allori, great Mannerist that he was, has delighted in the richness of the textiles, but perhaps the image that remains with as longest is the plain white headgear that frames the ancient and dismayed fact of Judith's follower.
ST JOHN the BAPTIST in THE DESERT
Allori's St John the Baptist is a beautiful young male in the full flush of his strength, whose animal skins remind us of the lion-skin of Hercules. This is a benign desert, in which a sunlit stream sparkles beside him, and it may well depict the moment when the idea of baptism struck him he would dip his container in the waters and pour them over the heads of penitents as a sign of God's forgiveness. In this moment of epiphany of revelation John is rapt, oblivious to all but the vocation for which he has long prepared and now understands.
Alma-Tadema, Sir Lawrence 1836-1912 b. Netherlands, active England
The Victorian upper-class schoolboy basically studied nothing but Latin and Greek, and it was in that context and for that clientele that Alma-Tadema created his extraordinary evocations of that lost classical world. He took historical accuracy very seriously, but, as we can see from this painting, he infused it with a romantic passion. This lost world, with its marbles, gladiators, and imperial follies, haunted the imagination of Queen Victoria's British Empire, and whether Alma-Tadema was accurate or not, he was felt to be so, and felt it so himself. Here, he shows two Roman beauties in a setting of extreme opulence, and the suggestion is that this is one of those Roman pleasure villas that were built around Naples. The girls are each rapt in some erotic reverie, waiting, it would seem, and in this luxurious setting the implication is that they are waiting for a lover.
On the left is a marble cupid; on the right are the feet of a statue of a gladiator. Gladiators were the toy-boys of Imperial Rome and, whether or not this is the subtext here, there is certainly a feeling that more is going on beneath the surface than we are aware.
A FAVORITE CUSTOM
Here, in the cool ambience of the Roman bath, Alma-Tadema is able to delight those who cherish the classical way of life, while, with perfect propriety, introducing the theme of the nude. The communal bath fascinated his contemporaries and afforded the artist every occasion to show his technical skills. This is a calm, cool alluring picture, with hints of implicit narrative that add to its attraction.
Altdorfer, Albrecht c.1480-1538 b. Germany
Altdorfer was an artist of daunting ambition. Alexander's Victory does not merely record the outcome of the Battle of Issus, nor does it simply show the massed movement of combat; in this painting, Altdorfer attempts nothing less than to encompass the whole known world, which that battle was to affect. He starts in the sky, with an announcement of the importance of what we are to view; the ringed and tassled rope that hangs from the heavenly plaque leads us directly down to the central event. A tiny Alexander, lance at the ready, charges towards Darius III, who can be seen further ahead, fleeing in his chariot. For the rest, huge surging multitudes struggle ignorantly and vainly flags wave, lances advance, and men fall. Yet all seems to us bloodless and silent because, along with the artist, we are entirely removed, looking down on these horrors without concern. The encampments of the armies seem no more real or unreal than the castles and fortresses they surround.
All this infinite expenditure of energy is set in the real landscape of the Mediterranean world, with the Red Sea in the middle. On the right is Egypt and on the left the Gulf of Persia. Far away, we see the long, narrow needle of the Tower of Babylon. All these great expanses of territory will be affected by what takes place in miniature in the center of this huge canvas.
The very sun in the sky is setting in horrified splendor behind the mountains, as if to emphasize that this is a world affected by nature but ruled by men and their individual choices. Only a few solitary soldiers on horseback at the very edge of the picture are recognizable as individuals, and yet Altdorfer involves us, should we choose to make the imaginative effort with him, in one of the great sagas of all time.
The Roman mind and the Teutonic mind were moved by different impulses: one towards the order of the high road; the other towards the dark mystery of the forest Altdorfer is essentially painting the weird encompassing wilderness of the German forests, but he gives his picture a focus and a theme by entitling it St George. This St George is not in his usual scenario (saving the princess before an admiring crowd); instead, he is tackling the dragon alone and for his own sake. Essentially, like all of us, the knight is on his own, and Altdorfer sets him in the echoing silence of the forest to make this poignantly clear.
Altichiero da Zevio c.1330-95 b. Italy
THE BEHEADING of ST GEORGE
Altichiero is an intriguing 14th-century artist about whom we know very little except that he seems to have looked long and hard at the work of Giotto. He has clearly understood the fundamental revolution in the way of regarding the human body that was Giotto's supreme contribution to painting. Altichiero shows us solid figures with three-dimensional reality. He understood even more Giotto's interest in human drama the relationships between people as is evident in this painting where we see St George with head bowed to receive the executioner's stroke. All those around are intimately involved in the tragedy. On the left, a father leads away his child, who, like all youngsters, is fascinated by the prospect of the bloodshed but will be horrified by its actuality.
The pagan priest still harangues, with anxious futility, the resolute back of the kneeling saint, while the various grandees and soldiers look on with sadness, Legend has it that St George himself was a soldier, and these may well be his companions in arms. Even the executioner is seen by Altichiero as a living personality, curefully measuring with his eye what he will place the sword.
As well as studying Giotto, Altichiero had also looked at Simone Martini, hence the glory of Sienese color here the pinks, the blues, and the pale yellows. The circle of people involved in this terrible act is put into perspective by the upper half of the picture: on one side, the great tall towers of authority; on the other, the mighty cliffs of nature. Land and city will endure long after the sorrows of this martyrdom have passed away.
THE MARTYRDOM OF ST GEORGE (DETAIL)
This is another image from the long and painful progress of St George from hero on horseback to beheaded martyr. This shows the pagans' attempt to execute him on the torture wheel. The martyr, in the center of the picture, is strapped to the wheel, which is visibly exploding to the astonishment and horror of those who have assembled to see the death. St George is poised to spring upwards, like a diver in reverse, to that world above the world to which he aspires. On one side, Christ blesses and pardons; on the other, He encounters His judges. Both images of Christ reflect events in the life of St George.
Andrea del Sarto 1486-1530 b. Italy
MADONNA of the HARPIES
Andrea del Sarto paintings are instantly recognizable for their indefinable smudginess. It is an engrossing quality, highlighting the splendor of his color and suggestive of meaning and mystery. The Madonna of the Harpies takes its name from the two extraordinary little creatures with splayed legs and gaping mouths that so strangely adorn the pedestal on which the Virgin is standing. The harpies' malevolence, however curbed, seems to affect the little angels who balance the Virgin as if she were about to teeter unsteadily on her plinth. Despite the large and agile Child wriggling in His mother's grasp, Mary appears unperturbed. As the eye travels up the scarlet and blues and pale greens and yellows of her garment, the face we come to is one sunk in that reverie that is also peculiar to the artist. Two saints flank the Virgin: St Francis, sad and thoughtful, gazing not at us, but past us; and, on the other side, St John with his gospel. It is a grand composition, bright and glorious, and yet perhaps the most significant element in it is the darkness behind the Virgin the great hollow that suggests far more than is visible.
This St John is unusual in his colorful splendor. He stems to wrestle with the book that he props up on one muscular leg, and we see the tension of the veins of his hands, perhaps in contrast to the quiet grace with which his counterpart, St Francis, holds the simple crucifix.
As we can see from the Virgin's pedestal, the harpies are insistently female. They are creatures from Greek mythology winged and voracious, destructive enemies of life. Andrea del Sarto has turned them into stone, leeched them of color, and made them serve as footstool to a divine goodness.
PORTRAIT of a YOUNG MAN
Andrea del Sarto was in his early forties when he died, never quite having achieved the promise that his work suggests. This faint element of melancholy, of genius unfulfilled, seems to have infused much of his work. This young man holding either a book or a stone to be sculpted turns towards us with that melancholy that the artist seems to know from within. It is a fine, noble face but not a happy one.
Angelico, Fra (GIOVANNI DA FIESOLE) c.1387-1455 b. Italy
Fra Angelico is the only artist, so far, to be canonized, and the profound spirituality of The Annunciation seems visibly to be the creation of a deeply believing spirit. The angel, luminous in pinks and golds with a ravishingly pale-blue underskirt, bows with beautiful humility before the meek and receptive Virgin. Her pinks are softer than his, her blue more defined. Gabriel's golden hair froths with angelic freedom; hers sits tightly to her neat little head. On her knee is the prayer book with which she was occupied before the summons reached her. Fra Angelico shows the wonderful enclosure of the Virgin's purity and, in the top-left corner, the sacred dove of the Holy Spirit. The great streak of light symbolizes the moment of the Immaculate Conception the incarnation of Christ. With a sophisticated subtlety that is often overlooked in Fra Angelico's work, the angel has a single foot and the tips of both wings protruding out of the Virgin's sanctuary into that wild world from which she has secluded herself. Nature and the supernatural are not, after all, as separate as they may appear.
Apart from the angel, Virgin, and bird, there is no living plant or creature within Mary's enclosure; outside, the world riots with life and fertility, with flower and tree, with an undisciplined vegetative force. Pathetic and lost, Adam and Eve move out into the unknown.
Two archangels appear in this picture. In the distance, the Archangel Michael can be seen tenderly ushering our first parents, Adam and Eve, out of Eden and into the world; in the center of the picture, Gabriel joyously ushers the Son of God into the womb of His mother.
THE MOCKING of CHRIST
This is an image for contemplation, painted on the wall of a monk's cell. We see Mary and St Dominic rapt in prayer, and behind them the image forming in their minds of the mocking of Christ on the way to His crucifixion. The objects of torment have been abstracted, reduced to their essence.
Antonello da Messina c.1430-79 b. Italy
Antonello da Messina is famed for having been the conduit through which oil painting made its first great impact on Italian art. He had studied in the Netherlands, and was probably the first to unify the luminosity of oil with the wonderful understanding of the human body that the Italians had pioneered. What makes his Virgin Annunciate such a remarkable image is the fact that Antonello has completely done away with the angel it is us Mary faces, and we, however unworthy, are forced into the angelic position and are met not with dismay but with an almost daunting self-possession. This is the face of a completely adult woman. She turns from her prayer book, not merely to welcome the angel with that uplifted hand, but perhaps even to quell him, to restrain the heavenly enthusiasm with which she is being greeted. A woman of such serene resolution may well have made up her mind as to what answer is required of her before the angelic act got under way. It is that concentration of strong clear outline and of an interior dynamic force that makes this picture so unforgettable.
Antonello paints with a tenderness and an interior glow that was new in Italian art. Light lingers around his figures, enhancing their sculptural solidity with an almost romantic softness. Mary is presented to our gaze almost full on, face to fact, clear and simple against a black background, suggesting that her past is insignificant compared with her future.
PORTRAIT of a MAN
Whoever this young man was, his face is fairly unremarkable with its pudgy cheeks and watchful brown eyes. A rather suspicious fellow perhaps, this young unknown, and yet he has no call to be suspicious of the artist. Authority is stamped on every line of the portrait. Antonello has responded with a sensitive awareness of light and shade, and an even deeper awareness of the hidden reserves of character. This is unmistakably a specific and unique individual.
"Once this new secret that
Antonello had brought from
Flanders into the city of Milan
had been understood, Antonello
was admired and cherished
by those magnificent noblemen
for as long as he lived"
Assereto, Gioachino 1600-49 b. Italy
CHRIST HEALING the BLIND MAN
This is the best known of Assereto's paintings. It is a work of uncommon power and vitality. Christ plunges forward with rough peasant force, poking one strong finger into the blind man's eye; as He does so, the effect is mirrored on the faces of the bystanders. We know from their expressions that a blind eye has opened, that with a vigorous jab of divinity, Jesus has worked a miraculous healing. The setting's rough reality comes across with extraordinary simplicity and force. As an image of what it means to be cured by an influx of transcendent power, this could hardly be bettered. The expression on Christ's face tells us that this is no easy miracle, and although His methods are crude, He is as intent and focused as a surgeon. The cost to Him is almost tangible.
Audubon, John James 1785-1851 b. Haiti, active US
Early 19th-century America was fortunate to have a great naturalist like John James Audubon whose eye for the reality of a bird was matched by his capacity to depict it. Audubon was a pupil of the great French artist, Jacques-Louis David, but he fled to the United States to avoid conscription in Napoleon's army. He made a living in the New World as an artist, hunter, and taxidermist. Unfortunately, the very nature of bird are usually means that the subject must first be dead in order to be painted as is almost certainly the case here. Audubon's skill is to set the bird in a context that makes us conscious of what this creature was like when living. The arctic tern, swooping like a dive-bomber into the dark seas to spear its fish, is a remarkable image. It is one of 1,065 studies of birds that Audubon painted from life, and which were published in 1827-38 in four volumes entitled The Birds of America.
Auerbach, Frank 1931 - b. Germany, active England
E.O.W. on her BLUE EIDERDOWN II
Frank Auerbach is one of those rare artists who are only drawn to paint what they have known intimately and loved for a long time. His models are exceptionally few, mainly two women, both of whom are dear to him. Nevertheless, it is clear that they are a pretext, as it were, for a superb and sensitive indulgence in the act of painting itself. Of the almost countless images of E.O.W., this one of the model on her blue eiderdown is among the most seductive. Auerbach's relationship with paint is clearly an abiding passion: he slathers it on, almost spendthrift in the thick swirls and globs of color, and yet out of this indulgence, in his sheer delight in painterly texture, there emerges an image of a long, fragile body, curled up on the rich, soft blue of her bed-covering. Ironically, Auerbach's images seem to belong to the subject more than they belong to the artist; they retain a privacy behind the fluid and intensely-worked surface of paint, with which Auerbach is so obviously obsessed.
Auerbach's images emerge and disappear; they will not stay still for us to visually digest them. E.O.W. on her Blue Eiderdown has a compelling presence that makes it impossible to glance al it with merely casual interest.
HEAD of E.O.W. VI
So thickly has the paint been applied here that it seems almost chiselled from stone. The intensity of the head is striking, but there is also great subtlety in the texture of the paint, the peaks and hollows of which catch the light to give added vitality.
Avercamp, Hendrick 1585-1634 b. Netherlands
Avercamp had a physical disability that he overcame in his art. He was known locally as "de stomme van Kampen" (the mute of Kampen). Visually speaking, Avercamp seems to have had one great emotional experience: the sight of a frozen river. The transformation of a normal world into an icy hardness must have brought profound astonishment, yet he paints it with such infectious delight that it is hard to imagine how little of this pleasure he could physically have shared. Almost from the beginning, he seems to have known what he wanted to paint, and that was scenes of winter with small contented figures skating on the ice. The air is always chill but the atmosphere is strangely relaxed. Here, he brings us close to the frozen river, where ships have lost their freedom and all trading activities have come to a relative standstill. Over half the picture shows the bleak winter sky, but it is punctuated by the brave folly of masks and flags that have lost their function. What is so striking about the small groups of people is their animation and their separateness. The groups are all small twos and threes. Even through the extremity of cold the townsfolk remain separate, each engrossed in an activity that is private to himself. However, there is no sense of exclusion in this delightful painting.
SOME people play either golf or ice hockey, some are setting up market stalls on the ice, some are taking the air, mothers playing with children: all manner of activity disappears into the icy haze.
The hole that has been cut in the ice can frighten us when our eye falls into it and this is the only hint of the inherent danger of the scent. All ignore it; work and play go on with happy intent.
The wintry air has bleached away the strength of the color we see blacks, grays, whites, a few muted reds and outlined faintly against the skyline we can see the towers of the city.
A WINTER SCENE with SKATERS NEAR a CASTLE
Here, Avercamp has created an imaginary castle, that image of inviolable security, and has punctuated his tondo with a tree, again a symbol of shelter. The images are too small for us to distinguish exactly and perhaps that is his point not to focus on the skaters, but to show them as animated little figurines, as generic humanity able to enjoy the treat of a frozen world, to play and divert themselves on the treacherous ice.
Bacon, Francis 1909-92 b. Ireland, active England
HEAD SURROUNDED by SIDES of BEEF
Francis Bacon has been called the greatest poet of the second half of the 20th century, and even those who deeply dislike his work find it memorable and horribly impressive. He is an artist obsessed by the horror of existence and the terrible vulnerability of being. He professed to see no hope, and yet his very life is a denial of such despair, because creativity can never really come without some belief in the meaning of what is created. Certain images recur again and again in Bacon's paintings, and the best known is that of the screaming pope, after Velázquez's great portrait of Pope Innocent X. Bacon refused to study Velázquez's portrait, preferring instead to paint from his memory of that painting's authoritarian majesty. Here, he shows the pope, father of the Catholic Church, both enthroned and imprisoned by his position. Bacon's relationship with his own father was a very stormy one, and perhaps he has used some of that fear and hatred to conjure up this ghostly vision of a screaming pope, his face frozen in a rictus of anguish.
The pope is pushed down to the bottom half of the canvas and squashed low into his chair. Around him, Bacon has built the suggestion of a cage or cell. He has marked him out with an arrow, as if this clenched and tortured image was an exhibit in the artist's chamber of horrors.
Bacon has also drawn from another famous image, Rembrandt's great Carcass of Beef, and has hung the animal's flayed and bloody flesh on either side of this human animal. Rembrandt painted his carcass with reverence; Bacon sees these carcasses as raw meat the pope as he will be and dangles them, almost insouciantly, behind the papal chair.
STUDY for HEAD of LUCIEN FREUD
Bacon's portraits are unique. He insisted on painting portraits only of friends, and Lucien Freud was one of his closest. He insisted, too, that he did not want to paint his subjects from life, but from photographs, and the absence of the actual person set him free to mould and deform with a wild virtuosity. Here, he seems to have painted the portrait, and then, perhaps with his finger or thumb, smeared out the features of the face; yet, despite this arrogance with paint and feature, enough significant traces remain to recognize the face of the sitter.
Baldovinetti, Alesso c. 1425-99 b. Italy
THE VIRGIN and CHILD
When looking at Italian painters, one can sometimes feel that they had practically no other theme except the Virgin and Child. And yet, the unmistakable personality of the artist is never more visible than in such a well-worn subject. Baldovinetti's Virgin is one of the most appealing. Her smile, with its shyness and sweetness, is intended solely for the Child; she seems unaware of the viewers who are watching her, and she has that look of inward content peculiar to a young mother with her first child. The little Jesus, too, is a sturdy and believable baby. His swaddling bonds have come amiss but His mother is contemplating Him with too much pleasure to become aware of His needs. One feels that soon His actions will become more dominant and the appeal might even become vociferous. For all the pleasure that the picture gives us, it nevertheless also conveys a deep sense of loneliness of what it means to be a mother, to be responsible, and have nothing at your back but the emptiness of the world.
This young woman in her scarlet dress and blue cloak is seated in a precarious position, the landscape seems to drop away, behind her and there are precipitous cliffs and winding rivers. The habitations that we see appear small, unwelcoming, and remote from the gentle intimacy of the Virgin and Child.
Although the mother is safe enough in her solid and elaborate chair, and her precious baby rests on a marble ledge with His own private little scarlet cushion, Baldovinetti seems to be conscious of the fragility of life. The sky, with its pale light and its small and flickering clouds, enhances this mood of vulnerability.
PORTRAIT of a LADY in YELLOW
The Lady in Yellow is rather paradoxical in that she seems almost a paper silhouette with no substance, yet still emerges as a distinctive personality austere and resolute. Her identity is unknown, yet the motif on her sleeve is clearly meant to distinguish her family and would, one presumes, have been recognized by her contemporaries. She, however, gives nothing away and the artist colludes with her in this, setting her in an anonymous background that has as its sole function to highlight the fairness of her skin and hair, and the distinguished yellow of her gown.
Baldung, Hans (GRIEN) c. 1485-1545 b. Germany
PYRAMUS and THISBE
The story of Pyramus and Thisbe is one of the great tragedies. Their love was long thwarted by unkind parents, and they finally took courage to elope. On their way to meet each other Pyramus encountered a blood-smeared lion, and his mistaken belief that it had devoured Thisbe brought him to kill himself in despair. This was followed by Thisbe's own suicide at the discovery of her dead lover. Baldung's version of the story is uniquely sinister. The man is shown as a helpless victim, at the feet of a tearless woman. She may wring her hands, but Thisbe seems strangely detached and in control. Baldung had a neurotic fear of women, and in depicting them he would often invoke the form of a witch, a creature with an evil and uncanny power over men. The tall figure of Thisbe red-headed, as witches were often portrayed expresses silently Baldung's great unease at female beauty. Above, water flows fruitlessly into a tomb-like structure, and a small Cupid mourns. Behind them rises the dark, threatening forest and the night clouds. The relationship is taut with unspoken suspicions and fears.
THE THREE AGES of MAN and DEATH
It pleased Baldung to explore the passage of life and death using the form of woman. His point seems to be not so much that the child grows to a young woman and then to an old woman and then death comes with the hourglass and all is over, but that women in themselves are deceitful and will not accept the mortality of the body. All in 'the picture is weighted towards cynicism and despair; the buildings in the background are ruined and the tree is lifeless, dripping with a sinister moss. The owl, a symbol of wisdom, but also of the witch, rolls its eyes at us as if to implore our patience with the folly of such creatures.
Balla, Giacomo 1871-1958 b. Italy
Balla was one of several Italian artists who, at the beginning of the 20th century, established a short-lived movement called Futurism. These Futurists, as their name suggests, believed that are should turn its back on the past and move boldly into a future in which the machine was triumphant. The beauty of the machines, the importance of movement, the necessity to express the emotions of the day these were the motivating factors when Balla painted his most important pictures. Patriotic Demonstration can, at first look like nothing more than swirls of color. It is, in fact, carefully planned, using the red, white, and green of the Italian flag, and this is Balla's attempt to express the excitement felt in 1914 and 1915 as Italy prepared to go to war. The Futurists, who believed that war was a great and necessary purification, pressed for Italy's involvement with all the fervor at their command.
The nation's fervor, excitement, and hunger for involvement is given visual shape in this abstract arrangement of wildly waving flags. These flags are not flapping in the wind; they are being swirled by enthusiasts as they cheer visually for the adventure of combat. Balla, who urges such visual energy, did not himself enlist, but staged in Rome.
GIRL RUNNING on a BALCONY
With the invention of multiple-exposure photography, motion could be "frozen" in stages and studied. Here, Balla has collated a sequence of photographs of a girl running on a balcony, and using the divisionist technique of dots that barely cohere into a shape, succeeds in giving the impression of speed and energy.
Balthus (BALTHASAR KLOSSOWSKI DE ROLA) 1908-97 b. France
NUDE at REST
Over the years, from his youth into his old age, Balthus has painted the same subject again and again: a girl on the verge of adolescence, still wholly unaware of the full implications of womanhood. He has brought to this subject an ever-greater sensitivity and delight and, although he has been much criticized and misunderstood for his attraction to this theme, it is nevertheless a pure delight. It is not the awakening to sexuality that intrigues him, but the period immediately prior to that awakening, when the child is on the verge of growing up, unconsciously sensing life's complexities the joys and anxieties of adulthood but, as yet, not acknowledging them. For Balthus, she still maintains her innocence. As such, these figures have a poignancy and visual sweetness, to which this great artist is peculiarly sensitive.
The nude, with her small budlike breasts and her casual, dreaming slouch in the chair, appears to be unaware of the artist's eye. She is not a pretty girl, and balthus has never needed the attractions of a superficial charm. She is the quintessential maiden, preparing herself, even if unconciously, for life fulfilment. Balthus shows one leg tucked up in the safety of childhood, as it were, and one leg stretched out, ready for the challenges of adolescence.
One hand clutches for reassurance, the other dangles free to accept what will come. But the girl's head is still turned away from the light that so brilliantly and beautifully washes over her body, white and gold in the embrace of the chair. She dreams and ponders, and the artist makes no attempt to enter into the mystery of her thoughts; it is precisely that mystery that enchants him.
JAPANESE GIRL with RED TABLE
Balthus worked on this painting over a period of nine years, thickening the paint refining his image, exploiting to the full this long, white, graceful body, whose head, although looking in the mirror, is turned full to us with its enigmatic mouth and mysterious eyes. The setting has all the classical austerity that we associate with Japanese art. The red table which has equal billing with the girl, sits there solid and strong, supporting that glory of Japan great ceramics. Their cold beauty provides a touching contrast with the radiant promise of the young woman in her loose and flowing kimono.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews
Informed and lively. It's no fluke that Sister Wendy has become a star in the art world. Reproduction quality is excellent.
Sister Wendy's interpretations give meaning and emotion to these masterpieces. At the end of my workday I love to find new masterpieces and delight in the emotions they bring out. My favorites so far are 'Creation of Adam', 'Dead Christ' and 'Flaming June'. I am so glad this book found me.
While some works didn't need to make the list as well as some artist that are far from a master are on the list. Overall it's a quality book with fine reviews.
Usually a DK book is THE DEFINITIVE book on its topic. The problem with this book is that the 'masterpieces' are not always the definitive ones. A number of the world's most famous works are missing and a number of inclusions are not so famous or particularly good. Suggest you go with her original, less expensive work, 'the Story of Painting,' and Wendy's videos, which are expensive, but very good.