Category Archives: #FineArtFriday

March 7, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: a second look at ‘The Louvre, Morning, Spring’ by Camille Pissarro 1902

1902_Camille_Pissarro_Le_Louvre,_matin,_printempsArtist: Camille Pissarro  (1830–1903)

Title: French: Le Louvre, Matin, Printemps (English: the Louvre, morning, spring)

Date:1902

Medium: oil on canvas

Dimensions: height: 54 cm (21.2 in), width: 64.8 cm (25.5 in)

References: https://www.sothebys.com/en/buy/auction/2023/modern-evening-auction-5/le-louvre-matin-printemps

I first featured this painting last year, when I was desperate for a glimpse of spring. I’m feeling the same wish for color in the gray outdoor world, feeling as if spring can’t come too soon.

What I love about this picture:

This is the way spring begins, tentative and holding back as if gauging the audience before leaping to center stage. The style of brushwork lends itself to the misty quality of the pastels of March and early April.

This was one of Pissarro’s final works. It is a pretty picture, a simple scene not unlike one I might see here in the Pacific Northwest this weekend. We are supposed to see a sunny stretch tomorrow through Tuesday, a few days of warmth without rain. The flowering plum trees in my town are poised to burst forth, and we will take a long drive, soaking up the sunlight while we can.

As I said above, this is a pretty picture, not profound or revolutionary, not highbrow in any way. But sometimes, what the soul needs is a pretty picture featuring the beauty and serenity of a sunny day.

About the artist, via Wikipedia:

Jacob Abraham Camille Pissarro (10 July 1830 – 13 November 1903) was a Danish-French Impressionist and Neo-Impressionist painter born on the island of St Thomas (now in the US Virgin Islands, but then in the Danish West Indies). His importance resides in his contributions to both Impressionism and Post-Impressionism. Pissarro studied from great forerunners, including Gustave Courbet and Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot. He later studied and worked alongside Georges Seurat and Paul Signac when he took on the Neo-Impressionist style at the age of 54.

In 1873 he helped establish a collective society of fifteen aspiring artists, becoming the “pivotal” figure in holding the group together and encouraging the other members. Art historian John Rewald called Pissarro the “dean of the Impressionist painters”, not only because he was the oldest of the group, but also “by virtue of his wisdom and his balanced, kind, and warmhearted personality”. Paul Cézanne said “he was a father for me. A man to consult and a little like the good Lord”, and he was also one of Paul Gauguin‘s masters. Pierre-Auguste Renoir referred to his work as “revolutionary”, through his artistic portrayals of the “common man”, as Pissarro insisted on painting individuals in natural settings without “artifice or grandeur”.

Pissarro is the only artist to have shown his work at all eight Paris Impressionist exhibitions, from 1874 to 1886. He “acted as a father figure not only to the Impressionists” but to all four of the major Post-Impressionists, Cézanne, Seurat, Gauguin, and van Gogh.

Founder of a Dynasty:

Camille’s son Lucien was an Impressionist and Neo-impressionist painter as were his second and third sons Georges Henri Manzana Pissarro and Félix Pissarro. Lucien’s daughter Orovida Pissarro was also a painter. Camille’s great-grandson, Joachim Pissarro, became Head Curator of Drawing and Painting at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City and a professor in Hunter College’s Art Department. Camille’s great-granddaughter, Lélia Pissarro, has had her work exhibited alongside her great-grandfather. Another great-granddaughter, Julia Pissarro, a Barnard College graduate, is also active in the art scene. From the only daughter of Camille, Jeanne Pissarro, other painters include Henri Bonin-Pissarro (1918–2003) and Claude Bonin-Pissarro (born 1921), who is the father of the Abstract artist Frédéric Bonin-Pissarro (born 1964).

The grandson of Camille Pissarro, Hugues Claude Pissarro (dit Pomié), was born in 1935 in the western section of Paris, Neuilly-sur-Seine, and began to draw and paint as a young child under his father’s tutelage. During his adolescence and early twenties he studied the works of the great masters at the Louvre. His work has been featured in exhibitions in Europe and the United States, and he was commissioned by the White House in 1959 to paint a portrait of U.S. President Dwight Eisenhower. He now lives and paints in Donegal, Ireland, with his wife Corinne also an accomplished artist and their children. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:1902 Camille Pissarro Le Louvre, matin, printemps.jpeg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:1902_Camille_Pissarro_Le_Louvre,_matin,_printemps.jpeg&oldid=948378278 (accessed March 7, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Camille Pissarro,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Camille_Pissarro&oldid=1278793537 (accessed March 7, 2025).

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February 28, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: a closer look at ‘History Painting, Titus (with self portrait)’ by Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn 1626

History Painting, Titus (with self portrait of Rembrandt) by Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn 1626

  • Artist: Rembrandt  (1606–1669) Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn
  • Title: Historical Scene.
  • Inscriptions: Monogram and date bottom right: RH 16[2]6
  • Object type: painting
  • Genre: history painting
  • Depicted people: Titus
  • Date: 1626
  • Medium: oil on oak panel
  • Dimensions: Height: 89.8 cm (35.3 in); Width: 121 cm (47.6 in)
  • Collection:   Museum De Lakenhal

What I love about this Painting:

This is one of Rembrandt’s earliest history paintings. The young artist went all out to compose and execute this painting. I love the enthusiasm he had for this subject–he believed this painting would make his name as an artist.

Rembrandt scoured the city for props and found old armor and weapons. Then he dressed the players richly in the finest garments of his own day, so as to befit a beloved and respected emperor.

Wikipedia says: Rembrandt’s portraits of his contemporaries, self-portraits, and illustrations of scenes from the Bible are regarded as his greatest creative triumphs. His self-portraits form a unique and intimate biography, in which the artist surveyed himself without vanity and with the utmost sincerity.

The level of detail in the weaponry and richly worked garments is remarkable, as are the faces and features of each of the players. Emperor Titus is portrayed as slightly larger than life, noble, wise, and kind.

In the background, hidden by the scepter, we find Rembrandt himself, the witness who happened to come upon the scene and is looking on with wonder. Of the witnesses, he alone is shown dressed in the unadorned muted gray woolen clothing of a common man.

We know Rembrandt was well educated in history, and admired the Emperor Titus greatly, as he named his only surviving son after him.

About the Roman Emperor Titus, the Subject of this Painting (via Wikipedia):

Vespasian died of an infection on 23 June 79 AD, and was immediately succeeded by his son Titus. As Pharaoh of Egypt, Titus adopted the titulary Autokrator Titos Kaisaros Hununefer Benermerut (“Emperor Titus Caesar, the perfect and popular youth”). Because of his many (alleged) vices, many Romans feared that he would be another Nero. Against these expectations, however, Titus proved to be an effective Emperor and was well loved by the population, who praised him highly when they found that he possessed the greatest virtues instead of vices.

One of his first acts as Emperor was to order a halt to trials based on treason charges, which had long plagued the principate. The law of treason, or law of majestas, was originally intended to prosecute those who had corruptly “impaired the people and majesty of Rome” by any revolutionary action. Under Augustus, however, this custom had been revived and applied to cover slander and libel as well. This led to numerous trials and executions under Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero, and the formation of networks of informers (Delators), which terrorized Rome’s political system for decades.

Titus put an end to this practice, against himself or anyone else, declaring:

“It is impossible for me to be insulted or abused in any way. For I do naught that deserves censure, and I care not for what is reported falsely. As for the emperors who are dead and gone, they will avenge themselves in case anyone does them a wrong, if in very truth they are demigods and possess any power.”

Consequently, no senators were put to death during his reign; he thus kept to his promise that he would assume the office of Pontifex Maximus “for the purpose of keeping his hands unstained.” The informants were publicly punished and banished from the city. Titus further prevented abuses by making it unlawful for a person to be tried under different laws for the same offense.  Finally, when Berenice returned to Rome, he sent her away.

As Emperor he became known for his generosity, and Suetonius states that upon realizing he had brought no benefit to anyone during a whole day, Titus remarked, “Friends, I have lost a day.” [1]

Credits and Attributions:

History Painting, Titus (with self portrait of Rembrandt) by Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn 1626

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Titus,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Titus&oldid=1275447925 (accessed February 28, 2025).

INSET IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Rembrandt Historical Painting 1626 (Detail, with self-portrait).jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Rembrandt_Historical_Painting_1626_(Detail,_with_self-portrait).jpg&oldid=694606337 (accessed February 28, 2025).

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February 21, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Starry Night Over the Rhone by Vincent van Gogh 1888 

Artist: Vincent van Gogh  (1853–1890)

Title:  Starry Night Over the Rhone

Genre: landscape painting

Date:1888

Medium: oil on canvas

Dimensions: height: 720 mm (28.3 in)

Collection: Musée d’Orsay 

Exhibition history: Van Gogh and Britain, Tate Britain

 

What I love about this painting:

Vincent’s night sky is shown with reverence, the vault of heaven above shining the light of hope over the darkness of the world below. His colors are dark and intense, yet bright where light is needed—a kind of purity in execution that was one of his gifts.

In April of 2022, Fellow writer, Johanna Flynn and Greg and I joined friends to attend an immersive exhibit of Vincent van Gogh’s life through his work. We roamed freely inside an everchanging exhibit that flowed through many of his most famous works and zoomed in on bits one wouldn’t ordinarily notice.

The classical soundtrack was the perfect accompaniment. For several hours, we were immersed in Vincent’s visions of the world he loved but didn’t fit in.

The exhibit was such a moving, emotional experience. I felt as if I had seen into the man and his art.

That day, I became a Vincent van Gogh fangirl.

Vincent’s stars are surreal, yet they show the truth of how he saw the world.

About this painting, via Wikipedia:

Van Gogh announced and described this composition in a letter to his brother Theo:

Included a small sketch of a 30 square canvas – in short the starry sky painted by night, actually under a gas jet. The sky is aquamarine, the water is royal blue, the ground is mauve. The town is blue and purple. The gas is yellow and the reflections are russet gold descending down to green-bronze. On the aquamarine field of the sky the Great Bear is a sparkling green and pink, whose discreet paleness contrasts with the brutal gold of the gas. Two colorful figurines of lovers in the foreground.

In reality, the view depicted in the painting faces away from Ursa Major, which is to the north. The foreground indicates heavy rework, wet-in-wet, as soon as the first state was finished. The letter sketches executed at this time probably are based on the original composition.

Colors of the night

The challenge of painting at night intrigued van Gogh. The vantage point he chose for Starry Night allowed him to capture the reflections of the gas lighting in Arles across the glimmering blue water of the Rhône. In the foreground, two lovers stroll by the banks of the river.

Depicting colour was of great importance to Vincent; in letters to his brother, Theo, he often described objects in his paintings in terms of colour. His night paintings, including Starry Night, emphasize the importance he placed on capturing the sparkling colors of the night sky and of the artificial lighting that was new to the era.

The Great Bear

In September 1888, when Vincent van Gogh painted this picture on the banks of the Rhône, he saw the city of Arles looking south-west. The Great Bear will never be visible in that direction. On the other hand, he only had to turn his head to the north to see the constellation in exactly the position depicted. This painting is therefore an assemblage of a terrestrial plane and a celestial plane.

The Star Flowers

In 1888, when he painted the night sky, the stars resemble flowers. By the time he painted The Starry Night in 1889, his technique has evolved, the brightness of the stars being symbolized by concentric dotted circles. [1]

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Vincent Willem van Gogh, 30 March 1853 – 29 July 1890) was a Dutch Post-Impressionist painter who posthumously became one of the most famous and influential figures in Western art history. In a decade, he created about 2,100 artworks, including around 860 oil paintings, most of which date from the last two years of his life. They include landscapes, still lifes, portraits, and self-portraits, and are characterised by bold colours and dramatic, impulsive and expressive brushwork that contributed to the foundations of modern art. He was not commercially successful, struggled with severe depression and poverty, and committed suicide at the age of 37.

Van Gogh was born into an upper-middle-class family, While a child he drew and was serious, quiet and thoughtful. As a young man he worked as an art dealer, often traveling, but became depressed after he was transferred to London. He turned to religion and spent time as a Protestant missionary in southern Belgium. He drifted in ill health and solitude before taking up painting in 1881, having moved back home with his parents. His younger brother Theo supported him financially; the two kept a long correspondence by letter. His early works, mostly still lifes and depictions of peasant labourers, contain few signs of the vivid colour that distinguished his later work. In 1886, he moved to Paris, where he met members of the avant-garde, including Émile Bernard and Paul Gauguin, who were reacting against the Impressionist sensibility. As his work developed he created a new approach to still lifes and local landscapes. His paintings grew brighter as he developed a style that became fully realised during his stay in Arles in the South of France in 1888. During this period he broadened his subject matter to include series of olive trees, wheat fields and sunflowers.

Van Gogh suffered from psychotic episodes and delusions, and though he worried about his mental stability, he often neglected his physical health, did not eat properly and drank heavily. His friendship with Gauguin ended after a confrontation between the two when, in a rage, Van Gogh severed a part of his own left ear with a razor. He spent time in psychiatric hospitals, including a period at Saint-Rémy. After he discharged himself and moved to the Auberge Ravoux in Auvers-sur-Oise near Paris, he came under the care of the homeopathic doctor Paul Gachet. His depression persisted, and on 27 July 1890, Van Gogh is believed to have shot himself in the chest with a revolver, dying from his injuries two days later. [2]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Starry Night Over the Rhone by Vincent van Gogh, ‘lightballs’.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Starry_Night_Over_the_Rhone_by_Vincent_van_Gogh,_%27lightballs%27.jpg&oldid=979586430 (accessed February 21, 2025).

[1] About this Painting via Wikipedia: Wikipedia contributors, “Starry Night Over the Rhône,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Starry_Night_Over_the_Rh%C3%B4ne&oldid=1272866843 (accessed February 21, 2025).

[2] About the artist:  Wikipedia contributors, “Vincent van Gogh,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Vincent_van_Gogh&oldid=1276412810 (accessed February 21, 2025).

 

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February 14, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Winter in the Country – The Old Grist Mill by George Henry Durrie

Artist: George Henry Durrie (1820–1863)

Painting: Oil on canvas, 26 x 36 in

Date: 1862

What I love about this painting:

George Henry Durrie is one of my favorite American artists. In this painting, he shows us a winter’s day in New England in 1862. Snow covers the ground, but the sun is shining, lending a rosy glow to the day.

The stream bears a light skim of ice, but though the millwheel is covered in snow, the mill is not idle. This late (or early) in the year there is no wheat to grind, but the grain from the previous autumn’s harvest has been turned to flour and shoveled into bags and barrels and stored for sale as needed.

A horse-drawn sled crosses the log bridge, loaded with white cotton bags of flour. Perhaps the driver intends to take advantage of the good weather and deliver them to the local General Store or Mercantile.

Durrie’s horses and cattle are as true to life as his landscapes are. One can almost see the muscles moving beneath the glossy coat as our horse pull the sleigh.

If you are writing a story set in an era of lower technology, I strongly suggest you go to the art of Durrie and his contemporaries to find inspiration for worldbuilding.

About the artist, via Wikipedia:

George Henry Durrie (June 6, 1820 – October 15, 1863) was an American landscape artist noted especially for his rural winter snow scenes, which became very popular after they were reproduced as lithographic prints by Currier and Ives.

In Durrie’s time, winter landscapes were not popular with most curators and critics, but nevertheless, by the time of his death, Durrie had acquired a national reputation as a snowscape painter. Durrie died in 1863, at age 43, probably from typhoid fever, not long after Currier and Ives began reproducing his paintings as prints.

Durrie’s paintings, depicting idyllic rural life, a world of stability and home comforts, held great appeal for the middle class and the working class, as an visual antidote for the growing industrialization of America, and the uncertainties of a boom-and-bust economy. The American ideal of a land of self-sufficient farmers, captured by Durrie’s paintings, was being replaced with factories belching smoke, along with a rise in urban populations, foreign immigration, and crime brought about by crowded conditions and poverty. The American descendants of the early English settlers felt that their values and way of life were threatened by these new developments and turned to nostalgic images such as Durrie’s for comfort. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:George Henry Durrie – Winter in the Country, The Old Grist Mill.JPG,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:George_Henry_Durrie_-_Winter_in_the_Country,_The_Old_Grist_Mill.JPG&oldid=995260526 (accessed February 10, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “George Henry Durrie,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=George_Henry_Durrie&oldid=1244671369 (accessed February 10, 2025).

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January 31, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: a closer look at ‘Spanish Blacksmiths’ by Ernst Josephson 1882

Spanish Blacksmiths, by Ernst Josephson

  • Date: 1882
  • Medium: oil on canvas
  • Dimensions: width: 107 x height: 128.5 cm

What I love about this image:

This powerful painting is one of my all-time favorites–I have featured it here before. Josephson captures the boundless self-confidence and personalities of these young men. He has managed to portray their cock-of-the-walk swagger, and he has shown us the truth of their craft: that sparks fly and ruin their clothes; that the work is hard and their muscles strong. These men are full of life.

I can imagine them arriving at the tavern for supper, cleaned up and wearing their best shirts, eyeing the ladies and flirting with the serving girls.

The influence of Josephson’s having studied Rembrandt’s works closely can be seen here in the style with which he has painted their features. He has painted the men with truth—they are not classically handsome, but they are in the prime of life and have immense charisma. They wear their burned and ragged hats with pride. These men are good at what they do, and they know it. Their eyes dance and flirt outrageously with you across the years—they are full to bursting with machismo, daring you to just try to walk past and not notice them.

About the Artist, Via Wikipedia

(Ernst Josephson) was born to a middle-class family of merchants of Jewish ancestry. His uncle, Ludvig O. Josephson (1832-1899) was a dramatist and his uncle Jacob Axel Josephson (1818-1880) was a composer. When he was ten, his father Ferdinand Semy Ferdinand Josephson (1814-1861) left home and he was raised by his mother, Gustafva Jacobsson (1819-1881) and three older sisters.

At the age of sixteen, he decided to became an artist and, with his family’s support, enrolled at the Royal Swedish Academy of Fine Arts. His primary instructors there were Johan Christoffer Boklund and August Malmström. He was there until 1876, when he received a Royal Medal for painting.

After leaving the Academy, he and his friend and fellow artist Severin Nilsson (1846-1918) visited Italy, Germany and the Netherlands, where they copied the Old Masters. His breakthrough came in Paris, where he was able to study with Jean-Léon Gérôme at the École des Beaux-Arts. He soon began concentrating on portraits, including many of his friends and fellow Swedes in France. For a time, he shared a studio with Hugo Birger (1854–1887). His personal style developed further during a trip to Seville with his friend, Anders Zorn, from 1881 to 1882.

His private life did not go well, however. By his late twenties, he was afflicted with syphilis. His romantic life suffered as a consequence, as he was forced to break off a promising relationship with a young model named Ketty Rindskopf.

Josephson was deeply affected by his mother’s death in 1881, though had found respite when, in 1883, he had obtained the patronage of Pontus Furstenberg (1827–1902), a wealthy merchant and art collector. In 1885, he became a supporter of the “Opponenterna“, a group that was protesting the outmoded teaching methods at the Swedish Academy, but his interest in the group diminished when he failed to win election to their governing board.

By the summer of 1888, he was beginning to suffer delusions and hallucinations, brought on by the progression of his illness. Residing on the Île-de-Bréhat in Brittany, where he had spent the previous summer with painter and engraver Allan Österlind (1855–1938) and his family, he became involved in spiritism, possibly inspired by Österlind’s interest in occult phenomena. While in his visionary states, he wrote poems and created paintings that he signed with the names of dead artists. Some of his best known and most influential works were created during this period. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

Spanish Blacksmiths by Ernst Josephson 1882 PD|100, First published on Life in the Realm of Fantasy on August 16, 2019.

Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Ernst Josephson – Spanish Blacksmiths – Google Art Project.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Ernst_Josephson_-_Spanish_Blacksmiths_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg&oldid=354761584 (accessed August 16, 2019).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Ernst Josephson,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Ernst_Josephson&oldid=1256604655 (accessed January 30, 2025).

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January 24, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Winter Scene in New Haven, Connecticut, by George Henry Durrie

I frequently find myself perusing the vaults at Wikimedia Commons, looking for clues about how people lived in times past. Winter Scene in New Haven, Connecticut, by George Henry Durrie is an intriguing window into the winter of 1858, a surprisingly intimate view of life in America just before the Civil War. I first posted this image in December of 2017, and it remains one of my favorite paintings, for a number of reasons.

Durrie had a modest reputation during his lifetime, an indie struggling unsuccessfully to market his works. After his death, the American printmaking firm, Currier and Ives, ensured his works were kept in the public eye.

The grandeur of the sky is reminiscent of Constable’s work, and the painting, overall, is both bold and comforting. Under a large sky, we find a small farm. It’s a simple pastoral scene, a moment painted during a winter long passed into memory. It’s pleasant, almost boring scene in its common hominess. When you look at the larger picture, you may ask, “How is this intimate? The landscape and the sky provide the drama, while the people are completely overshadowed by the scenery.”

But there is another, deeper story, one that is overshadowed by the majestic landscape and threatening winter skies, and Durrie included these people for a reason.

In Connecticut in 1858 things were not as simple and bucolic as the wide view of this image portrays.

Quote from Matthew Warshauer in his article for Connecticut History:

The state descended into chaos at the start of the war, splitting into warring Republican and Democratic factions that sometimes faced off violently.  Before the Southern states even seceded, the two parties faced off in the 1860 gubernatorial election, a contest that would decide the level of the state’s involvement once the war began.

Artists, then and now, frequently deal in allegory and misdirection. Then, as now, they were pressured to portray an acceptable vision of life as it should be. They had to sell their work to live, so they did do that, but they still painted what they saw, inserting the truth into each painting. The story that Durrie hid within this painting can be found by examining the painting in detail. I have enlarged the important section for you.

A sled, drawn by a single horse and driven by a woman, has pulled up beside the gate. A man has emerged and is talking to her. In the doorway of the farmhouse, a woman and girl stand, watching the scene at the gate.

We can imagine that some drama exists in their relationships, beginning with the way the man is standing there, not inviting the woman in. She obviously doesn’t expect to be invited in by him but has come anyway.

The man speaks to the traveler, but his gaze is not focused on the woman who has traveled through the snow, bringing a large sack filled with… what? Presents? Food-gifts? Instead, he looks away, focusing on the fencepost. Is the visitor an unwelcome mother-in-law, or is she, perhaps, a travelling merchant and he is negotiating with her?

Did she purchase something? Perhaps they’re merely chatting and he just happens to be looking away.

The sky can be a clue to the deeper story, too. Dark clouds take up fully half of the scene, dwarfing the homestead. Storms threaten the peace and prosperity of this farm, and barren trees flourish. It’s 1858 and the country is divided politically and ideologically, and the threat of a civil war looms.

The final subliminal clue is in the title: Winter Scene in New Haven, Connecticut. The artist names the picture after the larger community, a town that doesn’t appear at all in the painting, instead of offering the farm’s name. Thus, the scene. the approaching storm threatening the peaceful farm, is an allegory depicting the mood of the larger community.

Does this small detail hidden in the larger picture depict a travelling merchant, a customer, or a disliked mother-in-law bringing gifts despite her son-in-law’s aversion? Or is there something deeper here? Nothing breaks up families or divides communities as surely as strongly held opposing opinions, and we were deeply divided in those turbulent times.

The story is there, and the world in which it is set is all prepared for you. George Henry Durrie painted it, and if you are looking for a deep story that echoes our modern political state of affairs, here it is.

Or, it could simply be a passing stranger, asking for directions on a winter’s day.

When you examine the art of the past closely and look for allegories, you may find a large story hidden within the the image.  It’s up to you to interpret it and then write it.

Credits and Attributions:

Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:George Henry Durrie – Winter Scene in New Haven, Connecticut – Google Art Project.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:George_Henry_Durrie_-_Winter_Scene_in_New_Haven,_Connecticut_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg&oldid=761233247 (accessed January 23, 2025).

The Complicated Realities of Connecticut and the Civil War, by Matthew Warshauer, Ph.D., Professor of History at Central Connecticut State University. Copyright © Connecticut Humanities. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share Alike 3.0 License (accessed January 23, 2025).

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January 17, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Three Fisher Girls, Tynemouth by Winslow Homer

Artist: Winslow Homer  (1836–1910)

Title: Three Fisher Girls, Tynemouth

Date: 1881

Medium: watercolor over graphite pencil on wove paper

Dimensions: height: 19.8 cm (7.8 in); width: 48.9 cm (19.2 in)

Collection: National Gallery of Art

The above image is one of my favorite watercolors by Winslow Homer. In Three Fisher Girls, Tynemouth,  Winslow Homer captures the personalities and the youth of the girls who comb the cold beach for shellfish. The viewer wonders, are they good friends, or perhaps sisters? Rain has darkened the day and scarves protect their ears from the wind, yet they’ve rolled their sleeves up and fish in their ordinary work dresses. These hardy young women feed their family, and perhaps they gather enough extra to sell.

About this Image, Via Wikipedia:

Homer spent two years (1881–1882) in the English coastal village of Cullercoats, Tyne and Wear. Many of the paintings at Cullercoats took as their subjects working men and women and their daily heroism, imbued with a solidity and sobriety which was new to Homer’s art, presaging the direction of his future work. He wrote, “The women are the working bees. Stout hardy creatures.” His works from this period are almost exclusively watercolors. His palette became constrained and sober; his paintings larger, more ambitious, and more deliberately conceived and executed. His subjects more universal and less nationalistic, more heroic by virtue of his unsentimental rendering. Although he moved away from the spontaneity and bright innocence of the American paintings of the 1860s and 1870s, Homer found a new style and vision which carried his talent into new realms.

About the Artist, via Wikipedia

Winslow Homer never taught in a school or privately, as did Thomas Eakins, but his works strongly influenced succeeding generations of American painters for their direct and energetic interpretation of man’s stoic relationship to an often neutral and sometimes harsh wilderness. Robert Henri called Homer’s work an “integrity of nature”.American illustrator and teacher Howard Pyle revered Homer and encouraged his students to study him. His student and fellow illustrator, N. C. Wyeth (and through him Andrew Wyeth and Jamie Wyeth), shared the influence and appreciation, even following Homer to Maine for inspiration.  The elder Wyeth’s respect for his antecedent was “intense and absolute” and can be observed in his early work Mowing (1907). Perhaps Homer’s austere individualism is best captured in his admonition to artists: “Look at nature, work independently, and solve your own problems.” [1]

Credits and Attributions:

Image: Three Fisher Girls, Tynemouth, by Winslow Homer 1881 [Public domain] watercolor over graphite on wove paper, via Wikimedia Commons (accessed January 16, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Winslow Homer,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Winslow_Homer&oldid=1253319847 (accessed January 17, 2025).

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January 10, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: La Rochelle, Charente-Maritime by Leon Zanella

Title: La Rochelle, Charente-Maritime

Artist: Leon Zanella

Date: 2018

What I love about this painting:

La Rochelle is a city on the west coast of France and a seaport on the Bay of Biscay, a part of the Atlantic Ocean. It is the capital of the Charente-Maritime department, a département in the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region on the southwestern coast of France.

Leon Zanella has captured the calm water of the ancient harbor on sunny day. Sailboats and motorboats are anchored there, floating serenely beneath the sky of many shades of blue. The bright colors of the modern boats and the soft, fluid motion of the waters are contrasted against the solid stone of the medieval architecture of the ancient town.

I love the simplicity of this scene, as well as the rich colors of the sea and sky.

About the artist:

Leon Zanella (1956 — present) was born in Marseille, France. He lives and works in the medieval town of Vaison La Romaine  a town in the Vaucluse department in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region in southeastern France.

Zanella is deeply connected to his town and the surrounding countryside, which is featured in most of his work.

His work is straightforward and powerful, a clear depiction of each scene. The use of intense color celebrates the landscapes of his area of Provence. His style is bold and some have said it is reminiscent of the fauvist movement. And yet it is a unique interpretation of how he sees the world.

You can find his work at his website or view them in person at ARTE MUSEUM LAS VEGAS.

Credits and Attributions:

Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:17-CHARENTE MARITIME-La Rochelle-20F-2018.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:17-CHARENTE_MARITIME-La_Rochelle-20F-2018.jpg&oldid=744455658 (accessed January 10, 2025).

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January 3, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Revisiting “The Way you Hear it is the Way you Sing It” by Jan Steen ca. 1665

Artist: Jan Steen  (1625/1626–1679)

Jan Steen: ‘As the Old Sing, So Pipe the Young’

Title: ‘The way you hear it, is the way you sing it’

Genre: genre art

Date: circa 1665

Medium: oil on canvas

Dimensions: Height: 134 cm (52.7 in); Width: 163 cm (64.1 in)

I always post a Jan Steen painting at New Years, because I love how raucous and down to earth his characters are. It’s a New Year and we’re having a party. No Puritans allowed, as we’ll have no feigning a dignified demeanor here–we’re drunk, and we don’t care. The people who posed for this painting are featured in many of Steen’s genre works, sometimes wearing the same costumes as we see here. I suspect we are seeing Steen’s family members or close friends acting out the story Jan wishes to show us.

About this painting:

Jan Steen’s work The Way you Hear it is the Way you Sing It depicts a Dutch Proverb, As the Old Sing, So Twitter the Young. It shows us a family carousing and overindulging in rich foods. Luxurious fabrics, a foot warmer, and rare birds show off this family’s wealth, which they are spending lavishly as fast as they can.

A young piper, who closely resembles a young Jan Steen (possibly one of his sons?), entertains them. He looks directly at us as if to ask what he’s gotten himself into.

Mother and Father, dressed as the King and Queen, are sumptuously attired, being served wine in an overlarge crystal goblet by the family’s servant. Both are indifferent to the chaos, too sated and drunk to care.

To the right of Father (his left, our right), a younger woman, perhaps an unmarried sister or eldest daughter, is holding the baby but has nodded off, having indulged too freely.

The wasting of money on so much luxury that one can’t consume it all is clearly represented here. Mother raises her glass high to have it refilled, as if it is the most important thing–indeed, the wine cascading down into the crystal goblet is the focal point of the picture.

A bottle of clear liquor (distilled?) and a beaker of ale are set on the windowsill behind Father, and a covered pitcher stands on the floor beside Mother. The table is laden with grapes and oysters, expensive luxuries.

Grandmother is singing from sheet music, leading the song that the family sings. This is the direct allegory for the proverb, as the old sing, so twitter the young.

A youngish man, either the eldest son or the Drunk Uncle (every family has one), finds it hilarious to teach the children to smoke.

Neither the dog nor the piper is impressed with the carrying on, and the servant has no comment, merely serving the wine as required.

In essence, Steen tells us that children learn what they live, so if you want sober, morally upstanding children, you must be a sober, morally upright parent.

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Jan Havickszoon Steen (c. 1626 – buried 3 February 1679) was a Dutch Golden Age painter, one of the leading genre painters of the 17th century. His works are known for their psychological insight, sense of humour and abundance of colour.

In 1648 Jan Steen and Gabriël Metsu founded the painters’ Guild of Saint Luke at Leiden. Soon after he became an assistant to the renowned landscape painter Jan van Goyen (1596–1656), and moved into his house on the Bierkade in The Hague. On Oct 3, 1649 he married van Goyen’s daughter Margriet, with whom he would have eight children. Steen worked with his father-in-law until 1654, when he moved to Delft, where he ran the brewery De Slang (“The Snake”) for three years without much success. After the explosion in Delft in 1654 the art market was depressed, but Steen painted A Burgomaster of Delft and his daughter. It does not seem to be clear if this painting should be called a portrait or a genre work.

Steen lived in Warmond, just north of Leiden, from 1656 till 1660 and in Haarlem from 1660 till 1670 and in both periods he was especially productive. In 1670, after the death of his wife in 1669 and his father in 1670, Steen moved back to Leiden, where he stayed the rest of his life. When the art market collapsed in 1672, called the Year of Disaster, Steen opened a tavern. In April 1673 he married Maria van Egmont, who gave him another child. In 1674 he became president of the Saint Lucas Guild. Frans van Mieris (1635- 1681) became one of his drinking companions. He died in Leiden in 1679 and was interred in a family grave in the Pieterskerk.

Daily life was Jan Steen’s main pictorial theme. Many of the genre scenes he portrayed, as in The Feast of Saint Nicholas, are lively to the point of chaos and lustfulness, even so much that “a Jan Steen household”, meaning a messy scene, became a Dutch proverb (een huishouden van Jan Steen). Subtle hints in his paintings seem to suggest that Steen meant to warn the viewer rather than invite him to copy this behaviour. Many of Steen’s paintings bear references to old Dutch proverbs or literature. He often used members of his family as models, and painted quite a few self-portraits in which he showed no tendency of vanity.

Steen did not shy from other themes: he painted historical, mythological and religious scenes, portraits, still lifes and natural scenes. His portraits of children are famous. He is also well known for his mastery of light and attention to detail, most notably in Persian rugs and other textiles.

Steen was prolific, producing about 800 paintings, of which roughly 350 survive. His work was valued much by contemporaries and as a result he was reasonably well paid for his work. He did not have many students—only Richard Brakenburgh is recorded—but his work proved a source of inspiration for many painters. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: The Way you Hear it is the Way you Sing It, Jan Steen, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:The way you hear it.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:The_way_you_hear_it.jpg&oldid=428340634 (accessed January 2, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Jan Steen,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Jan_Steen&oldid=1249713624 (accessed January 2, 2025).

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December 20, 2024 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: allegory and symbolism in “Hunters in the Snow” by Pieter Brueghel the Elder 1565

Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder_-_Hunters_in_the_Snow_(Winter)_-_Google_Art_ProjectArtist: Pieter Brueghel the Elder (1526/1530–1569)

Title: English: Hunters in the Snow (German: Jäger im Schnee) (Winter)

Date: 1565

Medium: oil on oak wood

Dimensions: height: 1,170 mm (46.06 in); width: 1,620 mm (63.77 in)

Collection: Kunsthistorisches Museum

What I love about this painting:

This is one of Pieter Brueghel the Elder’s most famous paintings and is a favorite of mine because of the rich societal commentary Brueghel painted into this scene.

Perhaps you have seen it at some point, on a calendar or a Christmas card, and after a cursory glance, you dismissed it as a bucolic illustration of a bygone era.

You fell for his trap. Bruegel the Elder was an observer of life and had a wide streak of sarcasm that emerged in his work. He lived in a time of extreme capitalism, where the nobility and the Church made the rules, with no regard for those whose labors had made them rich.

Brueghel was a master at slipping pointed observations into the scene in such a way that they go unnoticed if one can’t be bothered to look closely.

In his day, the fortunate few who were wealthy were gloriously, impossibly rich. Money was minted by the rulers in the form of coins, and trickle-down economics didn’t work then any better than it does now. The peasants struggled to find food and shelter, going underpaid and overworked.

The middle class hung on, doing comparatively well. However, all it took for the prosperous farmer to be reduced to starvation was one bad harvest. That bad harvest toppled the small traders and crafters as well. When the middle class can’t afford new shoes or garments, tailors and cobblers suffer as well.

Critics didn’t praise his work, as it is unabashedly primitive, created for the common person’s enjoyment, and art critics don’t care much about what the common folk like. Nonetheless, his work is still highly prized by collectors.

Brueghel had a sneaky sense of humor and employed it to show the truth about humanity and inhumanity in his work.

Even now, four centuries after his era, ordinary people can relate to his work because, underneath the technological advances that we will be remembered for, things haven’t changed that much. The uber-rich are still uber-rich, and the middle class is still footing the bill.

Brueghel lived during a time of religious revolution in the Netherlands, and walking the line between both factions must have been difficult. Some have said that Bruegel (and possibly his patron) were attempting to portray an ideal of what country life used to be or what they wished it to be.

That is because they didn’t look deeper, giving it a cursory glance and moving on. On the surface and from a distance, this is a bucolic scene depicting ordinary peasants enjoying the winter. But when you look deeper, really look at it, you can see the irony of it, the honesty that Brueghel hid in plain sight.

Brueghel used symbolism to convey an entire story by employing paradox and gallows humor in every painting. Here, he shows us that winter was harsh, and for the average person, survival required a lot of work, sometimes for nothing.

He shows us the hunters returning with empty game bags, the lone corpse of a skinny fox, and little else.

One dog looks at us with starving eyes, as if hoping for scraps.

detai_Dogs_hunters_in_the_snow_Brueghel

The tavern’s sign is about to fall down, a large hint that all is not well. That symbolic broken sign tells us the owners are bankrupt.

detai_sign_hunters_in_the_snow_Brueghel

The owners are cooking outside, directly in front of the door, evicted from their home and business. A woman brings a bundle of straw out of the inn to use as fuel, while in the distance an ox-drawn wagon is heavily laden with firewood. Where is it going? Not to their inn, that is for sure.

And most intriguingly, a man is carrying a table away. He glances over his shoulder at the meager soup they are cooking, as if they had somehow gotten it away before he could take that, too. Is he the new owner, having acquired it for pennies from the city by paying the taxes at a forced bankruptcy sale? Or is he a hired thug employed by the new owner?

detai_innkeeprs_cooking_hunters_in_the_snow_Brueghel

A rabbit has crossed the hunters’ path and evaded their snares.

detai_rabbit_tracks_hunters_in_the_snow_Brueghel

Ravens, long considered birds of ill omen, roost in the trees above the inn and the hunters and fly above the revelers, a portent of worse days to come.

detai_birds_hunters_in_the_snow_Brueghel

But in this story, Brueghel’s characters have hope and faith that things will improve. In the distance (the future) people are playing winter games.

detai_skaters_hunters_in_the_snow_BrueghelBut they are indistinct and far away, shown in a fantastic, mountainous landscape rather than the flat terrain of the Netherlands. It is almost as if they are visions of what winter could be if only the harvest had been good rather than the truth of the lone fox, hounds with empty bellies, a bankrupt tavern, and the rabbit that got away.

About this painting, via Wikipedia, the Fount of All Knowledge:

The Hunters in the Snow (Dutch: Jagers in de Sneeuw), also known as The Return of the Hunters, is a 1565 oil-on-wood painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. The Northern Renaissance work is one of a series of works, five of which still survive, that depict different times of the year. The painting is in the collection of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, Austria. This scene is set in the depths of winter during December/January.

The painting shows a wintry scene in which three hunters are returning from an expedition accompanied by their dogs. By appearances the outing was not successful; the hunters appear to trudge wearily, and the dogs appear downtrodden and miserable. One man carries the “meager corpse of a fox” illustrating the paucity of the hunt. In front of the hunters in the snow are the footprints of a rabbit or hare—which has escaped or been missed by the hunters. The overall visual impression is one of a calm, cold, overcast day; the colors are muted whites and grays, the trees are bare of leaves, and wood smoke hangs in the air. Several adults and a child prepare food at an inn with an outside fire. Of interest are the jagged mountain peaks which do not exist in Belgium or Holland. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Pieter Bruegel the Elder – Hunters in the Snow (Winter) – Google Art Project.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder_-_Hunters_in_the_Snow_(Winter)_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg&oldid=898942431 (accessed December 18, 2024).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “The Hunters in the Snow,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=The_Hunters_in_the_Snow&oldid=1262746140 (accessed December 18, 2024).

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