Something Beautiful

Coronation of Mary

The Coronation of Mary as Queen of Heaven has given rise to many fine paintings. One of them is this excellent rendition by Lorenzo Monaco, done in 1407-09. Check out the zoom and you'll see what I mean. Those colors!

Complete works!

These are not perfect, but they do seem to have some merit.  There are now a number of sites, all connected, purporting to display the complete works of a given artist.  Here are the sites I've found so far: 

Duccio

Ghirlandaio

Leonardo da Vinci

Michelangelo

Raphael

Durer

El Greco

Rubens

Velazquez

Holbein the Younger

Bruegel the Elder

Jacques Louis David

As near as I can tell, the sites above are accurate. One of the sites in this series is, however, full of error. The one supposedly devoted to Giotto is chock full of works by Fra Angelico! The Impressionists and Post-Impressionists are well represented:

Manet

Monet

Pissarro

Toulouse-Lautrec

Cezanne

Concentrate on the value, not the results

I hope that my friend and fellow blogger am will forgive me for a bit of shameless pilfering from her very fine blog, Talking 37th Dream with Rainbow.  Just a few days ago she quoted the following from Thomas Merton: 

Do not depend on the hope of results. … you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself.

-- Thomas Merton in a letter to Jim Forest dated February 21, 1966, reproduced in The Hidden Ground of Love: Letters by Thomas Merton

Is misery caused by thinking?

I came across something this afternoon which might be worth a few minutes' thought. 

It begins with an observation by French writer Joseph Joubert (1754-1824):  "Misery is almost always the result of thinking".

My modern source then suggests that to find out whether this statement is true, we should try this experiment the next time we are unhappy:  "Disentangle your thoughts from the situation.  Then look at the situation without the thoughts (or realize that the entire problematic situation was never real, such as when you worry).  When you face the simple 'isness' of the present moment (it's all there ever is), misery has nothing to hang on to any more" 

What do you think?   It seems to me that there is something in the author's suggestion. But also that it is rather simplistic. We are not simply thinking beings. We are feeling, social, goal-seeking, symbolic beings too.

Josef Albers (color)

I've been thinking about color and its importance to me and to all of us. Modern artists often emphasize color in a way that earlier artists did not, perhaps could not.

One such artist was Josef Albers. You can see some of his wonderful squares here at the National Gallery G.E.L. site.

British Song Thrush

Take a quick listen to this spunky British Song Thrush.  This is posted in honor of Loren's recent encounter with a Varied Thrush, as well as Thomas Hardy's poem. 

Emerson on the stars

Tonight I came across this observation by Ralph Waldo Emerson:

To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society. I am not solitary whilst I read and write, though nobody is with me. But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches.

One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how great they are! If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.

Science's mistake

In an interview, Ann Druyan, collaborator and wife of the late Carl Sagan, says:

It is a great tragedy that science, this wonderful process for finding out what is true, has ceded the spiritual uplift of its central revelations: the vastness of the universe, the immensity of time, the relatedness of all life, and life’s preciousness on our tiny planet.

Wow! I've thought something like that rather often but I doubt I could ever have said it quite that way.

The Hermitage Drawings of Edward Hau

I've loved the drawings by Edward Petrovich Hau of the Hermitage and Winter Palace ever since I first discovered them more than ten years ago. It's been several years since I last looked at them but, having done so last night, I find that they still retain their charm.

Hau made this set of 111 watercolors of the Royal living quarters during the 1850s-1870s. They can be viewed at two different sites:

Complete set of 111 drawings (official Hermitage site)

Complete set. This site has far the superior presentation.

Feeling skeptical? Try just this one painting of the Antechamber of the Tsesarevich Alexander Nikolayevich. (Be sure to check out the zoom.)

January (Books of Hours, by the Limbourgs)

We have two January pages from Books of Hours by the Limbourg brothers, done in the early 1400s for the Duc de Berry.

The January page from "Les Belles Heures" was illuminated in about 1405. It is about 9-1/2 inches tall and about 6-1/2 inches wide. Like most calendar pages, it has three parts:

1: Top: In the quatrefoil at the top of the page, a young man and an old man sit back to back, a Janus-like allusion to the beginning and end of the year.

2: Middle: January's feast days.

3: In the quatrefoil at the bottom, the figure of Aquarius is shown as a powerful man wearing only a loincloth. He is pouring water from a jug supported on his shoulder and braced by his hip-planted arm.

The border for this page is quite elaborate. It includes an additional quatrefoil at each side, with one of the duke’s emblems, his arms in a shield supported by a swan.

- - - - -

The Tres Riches Heures is more colorful, less restrained, and generally more sumptuous than the Belles Heures. It is in fact the most famous Book of Hours in history.   It was made in about 1418, mostly by the Limbourg brothers.  Each leaf is approximately 9 inches high and 5.5 inches wide.   

The Tres Riches Heures uses a two-page format for each month, with astrological signs and activities on one page and the list of feast days on another.

This January page shows the two former components:

At the top, the "zodiacal tympanum" shows its appropriate hemisphere with a solar chariot, the signs and degrees of the zodiac for January, Capricorn the goat and Aquarius the water-bearer. It also contains numbers reflecting the days of the month and the martyrological letters for the ecclesiastical lunar calendar.

The main picture, immediately below, shows the household of Jean, Duc de Berry, exchanging New Year gifts, a January custom. The picture is full of interest -- there appears to be an abbot or bishop; there are a couple of huntsmen; there are two small animals (kittens?) on the table; and a handsome white dog on the floor. Jean de Berry himself can be seen on the right, wearing a brilliant blue robe!

 

January (Books of Hours)

A medieval Book of Hours will usually have a set of calendar pages at the very beginning.   In general, each page will have three components:  (1) a depiction of an activity appropriate to the month; (2) a list of the important liturgical feast days for the month; and (3) the sign(s) of the zodiac for the month. 

You can see the January page for the "DaCosta Book of Hours" at the Morgan Library site.  This Book was illuminated by Simon Bening c. 1500.   

You can see these pages in a slightly different format by following this link and this one.   If you follow the links at the bottom of those pages, you'll find additional information about the pages, the book as a whole, and the artist. 

- - - - - -

Another January page appears in the so-called "Hours of Henry VIII," illuminated by Jean Poyer, c. 1500.

The January activities shown here are Feasting and keeping warm. While a heavy snow covers the land, a laborer carries a few logs from the woodpile into the manor. Indoors, the lord of the house sits at his meal, his back to the hearth. His wife, closer to the fire, warms her hands.

Next comes a list of the important liturgical feasts to be observed during January. At the bottom center is Aquarius, the Water Carrier, the main zodiacal sign for the month. Finally, the borders illustrate some of January's major feasts, including, at top left, the Circumcision (feast on January 1).

The Way to Compostela

I'm not able to walk very far these days, and still less am I in a position to go to Spain. Still, I'm ever more attracted to the idea of making a pilgrimage. To Rome, perhaps? or, using the Way of St. James to Compostela?

Researching the latter possibility, I came across this set of lovely photographs by someone who actually did make the 500-mile pilgrimage. All the more tempting now!

Arrival of the Shepherds

We have already looked at a couple of works depicting the shepherds as they adored the Christ child while kneeling inside the stable. Much less frequently, the shepherds are shown standing outside the stable, looking into it. My name for this sub-genre is the "Arrival of the Shepherds," since it seems to depict them just as they have arrived but before they have entered the stable and knelt down in worship.

In the works below, as you will see, the shepherds are shown peering into the stable, catching sight for the first time of the baby they have come to see.

1: Nativity, 1445, by Dieric Bouts the Elder. This work has no animals. It does have angels within the stable, and shepherds outside, gazing in.

2: Nativity, c. 1480, by the Master of Moulins, a French artist. This work has two scenes, somewhat separated in time. There is an Annunciation to the Shepherds far in the background. The main scene shows a Nativity, with an ox but no ass; two angels within the stable; and shepherds gazing in. The man on the right is Jean Rolin, the cardinal of Autun, France (who probably commissioned the work). Notice the little white dog sitting on his robe!

3: Nativity, c. 1500, a leaf from an illuminated manuscript, by Simon Bening, a famous illuminator. This miniature has the ox and ass; angels above and angels within the stable; and two shepherds peering in from outside.

To me these are very appealing pictures. That is due, I think, to the combined humility and earnestness of the shepherds.

Adoration of the Shepherds

After the angel announced the birth of the Christ child to them, the shepherds decided to try to find Him. A painting which shows the shepherds having arrived at the stable and reverently viewing the Child is called an "Adoration of the Shepherds."

A particularly good example of this theme is here:

Adoration of the Shepherds, c. 1550, by Bassano

A variation of this theme appears in this work:

Adoration of the Shepherds, c. 1383, by Bartoldi di Fredi.

In this two-part work, the Annunciation to the Shepherds is shown in the background, while the subsequent Adoration of the Shepherds appears in the foreground.

More often, the shepherds are

The Adoration scene is based on a further selection from the Gospel of Luke 2:15-16.

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

Nativity, with Annunciation to the Shepherds

A Nativity will often have a small scene in the background wherein one or more angels will announce the birth of Christ to a group of shepherds.

Nativity, before 1452, by Bicci.

Nativity, c. 1510, by Juan de Flandes

Such scenes are based on this passage from the Gospel of Luke 2:8-14:

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Adoration of the Child, by da Costa

Here are two paintings that are sometimes called Nativities but should more properly be termed "Adorations of the Child."

Nativity, c. 1492, by Domenico Ghirlandaio

Adoration of the Child, c. 1500, by Lorenzo da Costa.

An "Adoration" will usually show Mary, often with Joseph, in a prayerful attitude, learning slightly over the Christ child. The donkey and ox are sometimes missing, but sometimes present. A stable-like structure might, or might not, be present.

Nativity, by Ghirlandaio

It's time for some Christmas art. Let's start with some "true" Nativities. A true Nativity will have five basic elements and be set in something like a stable.

As an example, take a look at this Nativity, by Domenico Ghirlandaio. It has the five requisite elements of three persons (Mary, Jesus, Joseph) and two animals (a donkey and an ox). It is set in a structure clearly intended to represent a stable.

The Public Intellectual Project

I do love a thoughtful, values-based argument aimed at clarification. There appear to be some of those at The Public Intellectual Project.

This Project came to my attention through reading Henry Giroux's statement about the current Penn State scandal published at TruthOut.   I liked, in particular, his statement that a university's mission is to serve as "a democratic public sphere where students learn to think critically, hold power accountable, and connect knowledge and social relations to the social costs they enact."  Yes. 

"I imagine I am about to die"

There is some important way in which this quotation from Pema Chödrön is beautiful:

At least once a year, I imagine that I am about to die. Looking back as truthfully as I can at my entire life, I give full attention to the things I wish hadn’t occurred. Recognizing these mistakes honestly but without self-recrimination, I try to rejoice in the innate wisdom that allows me to see so bravely, and I feel compassion for how I so frequently messed up. Then I can go forward. The future is wide open, and what I do with it is up to me.

(From the book No Time To Lose) At first I thought that she was saying she does this once a week. That might be even better?

Rembrandt Peale (1778-1860)

I've long been familiar with this portrait that American artist Rembrandt Peale did of his brother Rubens when the artist was 23 and his brother just 17 years old. Only tonight did I come across this much later work in which Peale portrays himself at age 50. The resemblance between the brothers is strong. The difference in appearance due to age is, to my mind, quite touching.