Sweet Da Vinci's Beard

A Slanted Look at the History of Art
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  • What is Art?
  • My fellow Art History Enthusiests,

    I’ve decided to move this blog from Tumblr and over to WordPress. I feel it’s a better interface for a blog such as this, and allows the posts I publish to remain just that, my posts. I have encountered many who tear apart my posts only for the photos or notes, which is a downside for me here but is the way Tumblr works. I will continue to update and will still be available for conversations and questions, just at a new location.

    You will be able to find me at :

    www.ArtHistoryFeathers.wordpress.com

    Sweet Da Vinci’s Bears, as funny as the name may be, was used for the ease of those knew nothing about Art History, but it will now be named Art History Feathers, a nod to my own opinions as they appear in the blog.

    I certainly hope to see you all over at the new site and as always, comments and discussions are more than welcome. 

    Thank you all!

    -Feather

    La Mort de Marat by Jacques-Louis David 1793
Some say that the strongest emotion on Earth is love, that love can compel one to do anything. Men have been killed in the name of love, wars fought, entire countries toppled. Even John Lennon said that ‘All you need is love’. Love is a splendorous thing, but it can also be used against each and every one of us. It can manipulate us, turn us against one other. Love can turn us into pawns. 
Jacques-Louis David has turned millions into pawns with this single painting. 
There are few things more beautiful than La Mort de Marat. Simple, stark, and poignant. You can feel death creeping up on this man, nude in his bath as he reads and writes. His face is calm, more serene than one should be after a fatal stab wound such as his, but the wound itself is subtle. No excessive gore, no glorification, just a simple puncture wound the likes of which so easily took this mans life. I have spent hours appreciating this painting, the simple composition which makes you feel the same heavy black weight that sits upon him, the skill with which it was executed. He’s just like you, David says through his paint, pointing to his simple wood box desk and cloth draped bath. He’s intelligent, thoughtful, and look! He’s even sending away a donation in a letter, a man who wastes not a moment, not even for himself.
Love him, David says. He is beautiful. He is virtuous. Love him. 
Jean-Paul Marat was a paranoid and a radical, ordering the death of hundreds of thousands during the French Revolution because of their political ambiguity. The endless lists of ‘enemies’ Marat compiled could easily be compared to McCarthy’s endless list of Communists, falling short of massacre only because of it’s blaringly patriotic propaganda. 
Which is exactly what this is. 
La Mort de Marat is nothing more than the most compelling piece of propaganda to rise from the rubble of the French Revolution (aside from La Marseillaise). Marat suffered from a skin disease, leaving him covered in puss and sores from head to foot, relief from which he could only find in his bath, where he spent long hours of each day. In reality he would not be writing back to admirers, sending off donations but rather searching his mind for every citizen he could think of, low born or wealthy, to send to the guillotine. The Jean-Paul Marat of the French Revolution is nothing like the Marat of David’s painting. 
But does that matter?
Who knows this?
Do we care?
This is propaganda, pure and simple. It’s beautiful. It’s ideal. It’s inspiring and heartfelt and it makes you love Marat. 
Love. David has betrayed you all with your own love. 
I am one of those, betrayed by the artist, tricked into loving the idea of a man who seemed so honorable, but in the end I don’t even care. 
La Mort de Marat is beautiful and I love it. 

    La Mort de Marat by Jacques-Louis David 1793

    Some say that the strongest emotion on Earth is love, that love can compel one to do anything. Men have been killed in the name of love, wars fought, entire countries toppled. Even John Lennon said that ‘All you need is love’. Love is a splendorous thing, but it can also be used against each and every one of us. It can manipulate us, turn us against one other. Love can turn us into pawns. 

    Jacques-Louis David has turned millions into pawns with this single painting. 

    There are few things more beautiful than La Mort de Marat. Simple, stark, and poignant. You can feel death creeping up on this man, nude in his bath as he reads and writes. His face is calm, more serene than one should be after a fatal stab wound such as his, but the wound itself is subtle. No excessive gore, no glorification, just a simple puncture wound the likes of which so easily took this mans life. I have spent hours appreciating this painting, the simple composition which makes you feel the same heavy black weight that sits upon him, the skill with which it was executed. He’s just like you, David says through his paint, pointing to his simple wood box desk and cloth draped bath. He’s intelligent, thoughtful, and look! He’s even sending away a donation in a letter, a man who wastes not a moment, not even for himself.

    Love him, David says. He is beautiful. He is virtuous. Love him. 

    Jean-Paul Marat was a paranoid and a radical, ordering the death of hundreds of thousands during the French Revolution because of their political ambiguity. The endless lists of ‘enemies’ Marat compiled could easily be compared to McCarthy’s endless list of Communists, falling short of massacre only because of it’s blaringly patriotic propaganda. 

    Which is exactly what this is. 

    La Mort de Marat is nothing more than the most compelling piece of propaganda to rise from the rubble of the French Revolution (aside from La Marseillaise). Marat suffered from a skin disease, leaving him covered in puss and sores from head to foot, relief from which he could only find in his bath, where he spent long hours of each day. In reality he would not be writing back to admirers, sending off donations but rather searching his mind for every citizen he could think of, low born or wealthy, to send to the guillotine. The Jean-Paul Marat of the French Revolution is nothing like the Marat of David’s painting. 

    But does that matter?

    Who knows this?

    Do we care?

    This is propaganda, pure and simple. It’s beautiful. It’s ideal. It’s inspiring and heartfelt and it makes you love Marat. 

    Love. David has betrayed you all with your own love. 

    I am one of those, betrayed by the artist, tricked into loving the idea of a man who seemed so honorable, but in the end I don’t even care

    La Mort de Marat is beautiful and I love it. 

    I do take requests.

    6 months ago

    Anonymous asked: Where is the church located? I may show up on Sunday to check it out. Do you serve those little glasses of wine?

    This church is definitely BYOB, but sharing is caring. 

    Gian Lorenzo Bernini

    I can’t help it, I must write about Bernini. I’ll admit that this might be a rather short and disjointed love letter to a Baroque artist long since past, but such are the late night internal monologues of a Art History Enthusiast after a bottle of cheap Merlot. 

    Bernini never sculpted in marble, he sculpted in flesh. Observing this masters skill and tender love manifested in marble is nothing short of a miracle. When one thinks of marble the idea that come to mind is ‘hard’, ‘brittle’, ‘cold’ and ‘intimidating’. In the hands of Bernini, however, marble is nothing more than a new container of playdough. He is a master. No, more than a master, he’s a God of marble. Let’s make a new religion, shall we? The Worshippers of the Artist Saint Bernini and His Fabulous, Magnificent, Painfully Perfect Works of Art. A little long but I feel we can really make it into a solid church. 

    All biased opinions aside, there really is no arguing what a master Bernini was with marble. For the moment I would like to set aside his chosen subject matter and his personal life just to take this moment in time to appreciate his unparalleled skill in sculpting. I’m a rather skilled artist (if I do say so myself) but if I went at a block of marble with a chisel and hammer, at the end of a few hours I’d have nothing left but a pile of fine marble dust and a few jagged, abstract chunks passed off for horrid attempts at ears. Bernini, though, was able to take marble, an unforgiving, terrifying medium and turn it into flesh. 

    This post isn’t about knowledge, or lecture, of little known facts behind the works. This is just to make you stop and look at art. At these sculptures. These figures. I want you to stop and to think and to observe. The man who created these works of art was no older than 35. He was in love with marble. He made is sing, made it move, made it writhe, made it human. 

    Don’t judge. 

    Don’t critique. 

    Don’t analyze. 

    Just look. Look, and love, and feel

    Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669)

    If you want gorgeous, warm, down to the last wrinkle detail and absolute honesty in a painting, Rembrandt is your man. One of the infamous Dutch painters of the 17th century, Rembrandt is so revered that he even has a professional brand of toothpaste named after him (and yes, I do use this particular brand of toothpaste because I am just that big of a geek.). But what did he do?

    Personally, I like to think that Rembrandt was a humanist at his core, showing a love, sympathy and understanding for humans on the most basic level and illustrating that to the best of his abilities in his art. He was honest, and he let everyone see it. In his career he painted over 100 self portraits showing not an idealized image of a successful Dutch artist but rather himself and nothing but. There were wrinkles and there was grey hair, sagging skin and blotchy colors and it was human, as were the rest of his paintings.

    Though, as requested, if we take a closer look at his treatment of women I feel that we can see the most honest portrayal of women of the 17th century. Not only in the visual sense, the shape of them, their wider face and paler skin, but in the subtle nuances that speak in the quietest of voices to fully round out this human portrait.

    By todays standards, a size 4 dress is considered overweight but that is in a society who is all fuckered up in the head (don’t get me started) but in Europe in the 1600’s thin limbs were not ideal, they were worrisome. That meant starvation, it meant poverty, it meant illness and it meant death. I particularly love this time in art because the most basic of human instincts were still glaringly present in societies mindset, most pointedly health and ability to reproduce. You gotta keep on kickin’ and keep pumpin out babies, right? Europe’s population is down 100 million since the Black Death so there is some room to fill.

    These women though are honest. There are no ‘touchups’ or smudged wrinkles, they are complete in their own bodies and faces and beautiful for it. Take ‘Hendrickje in Bed’ 1648 (first image). Unlike previous artists who were concerned with illustrating women in an overtly sexual light in an attempt to pay up their fertility and tie ins with love, Rembrandt takes the honest approach and shows not an illusion to lust and love but a snapshot of a woman, still wrapped in the sheets and caring very little for her modesty. She has a round face, full cheeks, plum arms and less than porn star-esque breasts. She’s a woman and she’s human and she is bloody honest.

    My personal favorite of his would have to be ‘Hendrickje Bathing in a River’ 1654 (second image). It’s a moment in time, a woman in a night dress pulled up over her knees (a no-no in 17th century society). Her hair is less than perfect and she seems completely unaware that we are watching her. Again, to sound like a broken record, it’s honest. The calm of this moment is present in her face, in water pooled around her feet, the still air we can almost feel through the paint. She is a woman in her own skin, small breasts, thick knobby knees, pale skin and the serene comfort one can only have when alone. She is real and Rembrandt did nothing more than to make her real on canvas as she was in life.

    I have heard some say that Rembrandt was the Art World’s first feminist, others just remember his bulbous nose and wiry grey hair from his self portraits but I remember him as one of the Art Worlds most honest men. Sure, he spent his money a little too fast and he never always finished a brush stroke, but the body of work he left behind paints this often painted artist as a true observer of the human race in all it’s brutal and beautiful honesty. I like to think that Rembrandt loved humans and understood the subtle way an honest and unadulterated image of one can touch the minds and hearts of thousands of others.

    Also, about that toothpaste thing, I lied. I use Crest 3D Whitening.

    artisandoflove asked: I would be interested to see your image choices in reference to Rebrandt van Rijn's portraits/depictions of female subjectivity. Rembrandt's paintings are often introspective and psychological, and especially in the mythological and religious narratives, his women express a realistic emotional quality, rather than conform to ideological conventions of beauty.

    Ask and you shall receive. 

    In reference to my previous post, which seems to be terribly popular, I want to take a moment to comment on this. 
Just because it disturbs you, that does not make something art. 
The Kardashians disturb me, and no, they are not art. 
Socks worn with sandals disturbs me, and that is most definitely not art. 
The murder and rape of innocents in war disturbs me, and that is not art.
Art can be disturbing, it can make you uncomfortable, it can make you think, it can make you face your worst fears but just because something does disturb you does not make it art. 
Those artists who build their entire body of work upon this idea disgust me. Contriving the most retched, sick, twisted ideas in the most unskillful ways possible only to argue that ‘of course it’s art, just because it disturbs you doesn’t mean it’s not.’ 
Again, What is Art?
Things I know for certain: Art has meaning. Art caries a message. Art starts with a vision. And good Art is not made simply for ‘Shock Value’. 

    In reference to my previous post, which seems to be terribly popular, I want to take a moment to comment on this. 

    Just because it disturbs you, that does not make something art. 

    The Kardashians disturb me, and no, they are not art. 

    Socks worn with sandals disturbs me, and that is most definitely not art. 

    The murder and rape of innocents in war disturbs me, and that is not art.

    Art can be disturbing, it can make you uncomfortable, it can make you think, it can make you face your worst fears but just because something does disturb you does not make it art

    Those artists who build their entire body of work upon this idea disgust me. Contriving the most retched, sick, twisted ideas in the most unskillful ways possible only to argue that ‘of course it’s art, just because it disturbs you doesn’t mean it’s not.’ 

    Again, What is Art?

    Things I know for certain: Art has meaning. Art caries a message. Art starts with a vision. And good Art is not made simply for ‘Shock Value’. 

    artisandoflove asked: your willendorf avatar is to die for.

    Thank you! My adoration for the Venus of Willendorf knows no bounds. 

    Is this true? I want your opinions.

    Is this true? I want your opinions.