I did not take a tablet, speaking tours, or other digital
media for simultaneous information gathering as I went through. I did get a guidebook just so that I knew
what was where, and I took a paper notebook and a pen, on the off chance I
would have a thought or two and put a few sentences down. My notes ran to five pages, and are typed up
here for the amusement of those of my dear friends and family who are art
people.
The Roman copy of a (presumably lost) Greek Herucles and the
centaur Nessus statue is astounding- the look of concentration on his face is
gripping, and the detail is such that you can see the veins bulging out of his
forearms.
The whole gold leaf fad of the 1300’s could not have ended
too soon.
I think this Botticelli guy could have spent a bit more time
and effort depicting the water around the shell.
Pallas and the Centaur is good- I need to read up on
whichever myth puts them together.
One subtle but interesting feature of the Botticelli room is
that if you glaze out- or even (in my case) take off glasses to totally
defocus- and cast eyes around the room, The religious paintings that dominate
the west and north walls are noticeable darker than the mythological ones on
the south and east. Part of this could
just be contrast- there is shiny gold leaf on some of the religious ones (I
thought you were above that, big B). But
I think there is more than that. The
religious paintings are dominated (in terms of fractional surface area) by
people in dark or deep red robes. The
buildings are also dark, and the skies are generally dusky.
In contract, the classical paintings have brighter skies
(forest excluded), fewer dark buildings, and more bright water. Most importantly, perhaps, the people who
dominate these paintings are wearing far fewer clothes than their religious
counterparts. So pale white skin
replaces drab dark robes. Also, the west
wall isn’t actually Botticelli (glasses back on now so I can read the tags), so
maybe it is just a personal style thing.
I like the lizard in the skull of Signorelli’s crucifixion.
Leonardo’s landscapes are more impressive, relative to his
contemporaries, than his people.
Perspective must have been the 15th century equivalent of
computer graphics. Crazy math changing
the way we render images of the world we see.
Nice floor in the classical sculpture room.
Grotesque hallway ceilings more interesting than the
classical busts.
The porphyry she-wolf could be ground up for zircons!
Ceilings have changed from grotesque cartoons to perspective
heavens. I like the one with the soldier
falling back to Earth.
The mom in Michaelangelo’s Holy trinity reminds me of one of
those WWII working women posters. Must
be the biceps.
Ariadne get a new head every 200 years!?
The murder of innocents is as horrible as it sounds. Horrible, but masterful in its depiction of
evil and the effect on society. The expressions
on the mother’s faces are heart-rending.
Montegna’s circumcision is fun to look at. I like the composition, the style, the
fantastical landscapes. Not sure the
foreskin ascending to Heaven adds much, tohugh.
Vecchio’s Adam and Eve:
Adam has bedroom eyes, and Eve is like, “The apple? Are you kidding me?”
The boy with the thorn sculpture- random awesomeness.
“Rooms of foreign painters” Because all those masterpieces
you’ve been looking at so far? Those are
just the local talent, bitches.
Allegory of Vanity.
I doubt Pereda meant it this way, but the Angel comes across
as a passive-aggressive minion of evil.
I see no salvation in his dark lurking figure or slack-faces, cold-eyed
stance.
The hopeless decadence of the skulls, weapons, wealth, and
trinkets is palpable, but the unsympathetic angel and fiery Armageddon suggest
that the ministry of angels offers nothing but the perpetration of European
destruction.
The brightest thing in the painting is the globe, centered
on “America
si ne India Nova”. This suggests that
the only hope of salvation lies in the New World . Or maybe that’s just my American eyes interpreting
it all.
Is Saint Jerome
penitent or shocked? “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”
Was there an obesity epidemic in the 1600’s? Potatoes coming back from the new world?
The landscape with dead birds ain’t all that, but I like the
turtle.
“Ships in a storm” by Plattenberg. Now that is a seascape. Send notes ro Mr. Botticelli. Seriously, though, the Dutch landscapers are
pretty good. I’m guessing they inspired the Hudson River school north of New Amsterdam a few centuries later.
Every American should see Reuben’s Bacchanalia
Stella’s painting looks more like Christ scolded by
angels. The angels go from adoring to stroppy
from back to front. Did he use the same
model and keep deferring her payment?
Gabbiani’s Ganymede looks like he’s about to be dumped. The expressions are fantastic. The boy is blushing, “Is this love?” and the
eagle’s cold predatory eye is utterly remorseless.
So was Mazzola one of those folks who thinks kids should
breastfeed until four?
Zimbo’s corruption of time is gruesomely graphic. Rich people with sick taste commissioning
horrors evidently ain’t a new trend.
I want to see the original Perseus and Medusa by Foggini.
Carvaggio’s Bacchus is suitable jaded, but his Medusa shield
is cheesy and shallow.
The expressions in Stormer’s Annunciation are fabulous.
“Who, me?”
Spardino’s banquet of the Gods is oddly portentous of a
not-too-distant future where the powerful look down on earth, half in a stupor,
from their windowless server farms and wreak havoc on those who displease them,
or dare threaten their carnal bacchanalia.
And just when my brain filled up, there was the end.
Except…
You know you’re in an art museum when you aren’t sure if it
is a urinal or a watersculpture.
Sometimes, all you have is context.
So if you need to go, and it’s just across from the stalls…
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