Previous Posts: August 2014

Once upon a time, I might have been amongst those who deplore the use of mobile phones in front of works of art. But I have found that photography helps one to concentrate on the details, to look closely and carefully, and to be able to record those parts of a painting that one wants to record, often to a much higher standard of reproduction than those postcards.

I can certainly wholeheartedly endorse his [my] plea for the abolition of image reproduction charges, at least for non-profit uses. If you look at the National Gallery’s policy, scholarly use is free – but you only get small images, can only use them for specified purposes and still have to complete endless forms. Since someone at the Gallery is paid to vet those forms, I can join Bendor in an offer to the Gallery to save at least £10,000:  by abolishing the paperwork, and relying on self-certification of eligible use.

I - Preparation: creating favourable conditions

• Degree in art history or command of basic art historical research skills.
• Review historiography and recent scholarship on the subject.
• Join professional groups, such as the Catalogue Raisonné Scholars Association.
• Contact specialists on the subject/ check for other CR projects on the artist.
• Explore the possibility of collaborating with other specialists as a CR calls for a multidisciplinary approach.
• Obtain permission to reproduce the artist’s work and try to have fees waived or reduced.
• Set up a computerized database to file images, data and correspondence, and establish protocols for naming images and files.
• Train your eye by examining first hand major repositories of works of undisputed authorship. Obtain relevant broader connoisseurship by inspecting first hand large quantities of works by similar artists of the sameperiod.

Having typed out the words 'catalogue raisonné' several times already today, I can vouch for the usefulness of having this character somewhere close at hand if it isn't on your keyboard: é

My mac does,...     I  =>  O =>  P  =>   shift  éééééééééé ,

or,  non shift      èèèèè.

I 'm sure you'll get an 'eye' for this stuff.

Interesting post on CRs, but full of circular reasoning (the fundamental flaw in most connoisseurship). You're basically engaging in a massive game of confirmation bias. "This artist is good, therefore this can't be by him".

In a sense, the methodology employed by [Met curator Keith] Christiansen in his attribution of the picture [Portrait of Maffeo Barberini, above] can be deemed “canonical,” that is, characteristic of an illustrious tradition of connoisseurship. And yet, this canonicity is about to become a literal rarity. The nonchalance with which mediocre paintings continue to be ascribed to Caravaggio is undoubtedly appalling. Stone describes the possible impact of this spreading amateurishness upon future scholarship in rightly alarmed terms: “my worry is that, as fewer and fewer scholars devote themselves to problems of connoisseurship, the stage is being set for future generations of students to take these exhibition catalogues off the shelves and write term papers—even dissertations—about pictures Caravaggio almost certainly did not paint.”

It is not known for whom the Mater Dolorosa was made, but the superior quality of both carving and polychromy suggest that it must have been produced at the height of Mena’s creative powers, c. 1673-4, for a discerning patron. The intimacy of scale (33.6 x 31.0 x 19.8 cm), the care lavished on both the carving and the painting and the fact that the back is fully finished, indicate that it was designed to be seen close up, and in the round, most probably in a private devotional context. Likely made for the private chapel, study or bedchamber of a devout patron, it would almost certainly have been protected under a glass dome and originally paired with an Ecce Homo (Christ as the Man of Sorrows). This mesmerisingly beautiful image of the Mater Dolorosa, with its understated pathos and startling realism—thanks to the naturalism of the flesh tones, the glass eyes and tear drops and the real hair eyelashes—still elicits a powerful response from the viewer, 350 years after it was made.

The Virgin of Sorrows will be permanently displayed in the Spanish & Flemish Gallery, alongside other masterpieces by contemporary Baroque sculptors and painters. It is being displayed there now to promote this Appeal.

Such a huge sale would flood the market, driving down prices, and Detroit’s bankruptcy might turn off serious investors, Artvest said.

This exhibition will comprise two groups of portrait miniatures: British, from the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, and French, from the revolutionary period to the Empire. Also included are several eighteenth-century French gold boxes decorated with narratives or scenes in grisaille. All are from the Museum's permanent collection and, because of their sensitivity to light, are infrequently exhibited. Six larger paintings will be exhibited in order to consider what they may share with the miniatures and to show how they differ.

The masterpiece has been created by Gary Bevans, who is Deacon at the church. [...] Mr Bevans began the project in 1987 and despite never having had an art lesson in his life, he was given the go-ahead from former parish priest Father Enda Naughton and Bishop Corman Murphy O'Connor.

It was scheduled to take two years to complete but, combined with a full-time job which forced Mr Bevans to paint at night, it took much longer.

He screwed blank plywood panels to the ceiling and spent the next 66 months painting through the night with a single light on his scaffold boards to create the 500 figures.

Once the plywood had been undercoated and primed, the figures were sketched out and then carefully painted in detail using acrylic. 

[...] was started by Gary Bevans, a signwriter parishioner [...] after a parish pilgrimage trip to Rome to attend the Beatification of 85 English Martyrs. Following a discussion with Bishop Cormac, Gary's request to bring 'the Sistine ceiling' here was accepted.

It is now completed at 2/3 scale of the original. The colours match the newly cleaned ceiling in Rome.

At the Mass of Thanksgiving, attended by many local dignitaries including the Duke of Norfolk and Countess of Arundel, Gary was presented by the Bishop with the papal cross 'Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice'.

Thirteen national and international TV companies have filmed the work, including CBS, ABC, BBC, ITV, Australian, New Zealand broadcasters, and recently Nippon Television International. Magazines, including 'Time' have covered it.

The end product [...] remains the only copy of the Sistine Chapel's ceiling in the world.

[...] if you cast your mind back to the film The Agony and The Ecstasy, starring Charlton Heston as Michelangelo, you will see the ceiling being painted by my father, Ferdinand Bellan, one of the greatest film scenic artists. I think that reproduction was sold to a private buyer as a complete work of art, to be re-assembled elsewhere.

There are some rather fun re-imaginings of some of the Sistine figures at Exeter St Davids Station, executed by Bridget Green who was a student at Dartington College.

'It’s clear they’ll [the National Gallery] do anything to make sure the Rembrandt exhibition opens every day as normal, and they know we’re holding an indicative ballot for strike action,’ another worker told me. ‘They’re launching a new membership scheme at the same time, and so they’re evidently willing to go to great expense to make sure everything goes smoothly. Of course, it will still be embarrassing for them if the exhibition is open but the rest of the gallery is closed, and we’re picketing outside.’

‘I recollect nothing so much as a solemn — bright — warm — fresh landscape by Wilson, which swims in my brain like a delicious dream,’ wrote Constable of his encounter with the Welsh artist’s ‘Tabley House, Cheshire’ after he visited the gallery of that house owned by Sir John Leicester. Recalling this epiphany, Constable went on to say of Richard Wilson: ‘He was one of the great appointments to shew to the world what exists in nature but which was not known till his time.’

Criticism is a kind of art history done about new or recent objects. It involves judgment, but without the benefit of hindsight. Criticism is different to art history, which isn’t so concerned with judgment. Instead, art history explores the relationship of objects with each other, with history and with various aspects of society. Art history doesn’t have to make the same judgments as criticism – you can do great art history about really terrible objects and never have to say if you think they are good or successful or important.

I don’t necessarily think that the critic should have to state their criteria, but the reasons for their judgments should be made clear in the review. This is so the reader can understand why the critic has come to certain conclusions – and therefore determine whether these judgments and conclusions hold true for them.

Critical discourse is a kind of approach, which can be found in criticism and art history. It is a decision to actively engage with the tools you are using, the discussions you are part of. It is a willingness to ask questions and not assume anything. Discourse is the flow of ideas, conversations, practices and objects that make contemporary jewelry possible.. Critical discourse is an attitude to the different aspects that make up the contemporary jewelry eco-system: making, writing, exhibiting, selling, wearing, and so on.

It should all go to Tate Britain, permanently. There's no point in scattering the Freud collection of Auerbach's art around museums in Manchester and Southampton and so forth. For one thing, Auerbach is an outstanding British artist whose reputation really needs securing for the ages – and only the Tate has the global power to do that. Its retrospective of his work next year ought to be a real event.

To be blunt, all too many paintings by the best British artists hang outside London where they don't get the publicity they deserve. The best place in the world to see Auerbach's paintings is in the city where he lives and works. No wonder that in the 1980s Auerbach was often spoken of, along with such artists as Freud, Leon Kossoff and RB Kitaj as belonging to a "School of London". He has literally dug himself into the city and its landscapes. London skies and London spaces energise his mighty, roiling expressionist art.

London is truly a very different kind of art city from Paris or New York. It is – in paintings – tougher and darker. Modern London's art history starts with William Hogarth, who in the Georgian age dwelt on mad houses and gambling dens, brothels and workhouses. Hogarth's London is a practically subterranean place, a cavern peopled by no-hopers. He is an artist who paints the dangers and the victims of city life. Auerbach is one of his true heirs.

For what it's worth I agree with you about the Auerbachs. The Tate already has 77 works by him (roughly 17 major oils, the remainder being works on paper or smaller oil sketches) so that is pretty good representation. The works in the Freud colllection include 15 oils, the rest being works on paper, sketches etc. It therefore makes sense for the Tate to get at most a couple of major oils that fill any gaps in its collection with the rest being spread around the country to regional museums that could never afford to purchase such works.

all I can say is that it amazes me that newspaper critics in London still do not appreciate that many of us who live elsewhere do actually like and appreciate art. Art is not a sole activity for Londoners and those who visit that city and travel around the UK is really not that difficult. Is it they would rather the works be locked away in Tate storage than allow them to be seen by the ignorant peasants living outside the capital?  

Also one major advantage of placing art in galleries outside London is that you do not have to fight through a major scrum every time to get anywhere near them as you always have to in London.

It's worth remembering that Tate is very keen on loaning it's works to other galleries. It is the custodian, with the National Gallery of Scotland, of Anthony D'Offay's 'Artist Rooms' which are on show throughout the UK. So if it doesn't have space to show all the Auerbachs they will be available for loan.

[...] keeping the Auerbachs together implies that the Tate will display them all which is unlikely.
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In a bit of revisionist history, the garden at the Frick Collection designed by the world-famous British landscape architect Russell Page (1906-1985) and once hailed by the New York Times as one of his "most important works," has been downgraded by museum officials to nothing more than an interim land use. The garden occupies space the museum wants for a proposed addition. Consequently, in order to demolish it, Frick officials seek to diminish it saying the garden "has always been inaccessible to the public" (despite photos of parties held there and the fact that it was purpose built as a viewing garden) and was "temporary." This "temporary" idea is an important talking point in the Frick's justification; the garden's supposed planned obsolescence is foundational to their argument. There's only one problem -- the Frick created this verdant oasis as "a permanent garden" -- at least that's what the museum's own February 4, 1977 press release about it states. An anonymous source recently sent me the seven page release (with a note saying "This document is on file at the Frick Art Reference Library") and directed me to the fourth paragraph on page six -- there it is, plain as day: "a permanent garden."

Good of the National Gallery to help out, as they did with van Eyck, and I assume they are charging for it or at least getting something substanantial in return.  Otherwise, I ams sure there are any number of regional collections in this country which would be only too delighted to have the Gallery's conservation studio's apply their expertise on works they hold.

Choosing between them is like choosing between two visions of art: the realist versus the abstract.

"Choosing between them is like choosing between two visions of art: the realist versus the abstract."

Thankfully we don't have to choose, for we can have both. And in any event 'the realist versus the abstract' where these two artists are concerned is nonsense. They are both very much types of realist, Turner especially (don't take my word for it; try reading Ruskin on the subject).