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sienamystic) wrote2005-12-01 09:05 am
sienamystic) wrote2005-12-01 09:05 am
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Well, we've reached the end of the alphabet. This run of the ABCs has been monumental fun for me to do, and I'm glad that other people seem to have enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed putting them up. However, just because we've reached the end of the alphabet doesn't mean that it's the end of these art history discussions, since they keep my brain engaged (and my brain needs all the help it can get).
is for Francisco de Zurbaran.
Francisco de Zurbaran, painting in Spain in the early 1600s, specialized in a starkly beautiful style that used light and shadow to heighten the emotional effect of his paintings. He generally painted saints posed in a meditative aspect, with light beaming down to leave one side of the saint's body in light and the other in shadow. Spain at this time was busy not embracing Mannerism as the Italians were, and as Gardner puts it, "Spain seemed to reject all that the Italian Renaissance had stood for, just as it was to reject for a long time the scientific revolution and the Enlightenment." In some ways, Spain has always isolated itself from the rest of Europe, going their own way in several fields, including the artistic one. Gardner, again: "There appear to be two sides to the Spanish genius in the period of the Counter Reformation and the Baroque: fervent religious faith and ardent mysticism on the one hand and an iron realism on the other; St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross can be taken as representing the first; the practical St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuit order, the latter."
St. Francis in Meditation, 1639
Here, we can see that Zurbaran's style was primarily realist, with the rough robes of the saint and his tightly clenched hands meticulously rendered. But the positioning of the figures and the way the light is rendered adds a more mystical, prayerful aspect that turns them into contemplative figures. Here, St. Francis holds a skull, the memento mori that reminds the saint and the onlooker both about the frailty of life. This Francis is shown in fierce prayer, his lips parted as he contemplates the divine. This painting can be compared to another of the St. Francis he painted, a full-length version showing the saint in a calmer, but no less ardent, stance.
(St. Francis of Assisi is my confirmation saint, and one who I still feel very close to. Visiting Assisi's gorgeous double-church was a highlight of my trip there.)
St. Serapion, 1628
This particularly moving painting is of St. Serapion, a young soldier-turned-missionary-to-the-Moors who was crucified in Algiers. He was a member of the Mercedarian Order, and he is shown in their robes with their insignia. His slumped body, suspended by ropes, is a particularly poignant image of a martyr-saint.
St. Casilda, 1638-1642
This stately portrait shows St. Casilda, daughter of a Muslim ruler who wanted to feed Christian prisoners held by her father. She hid bread in the skirts of her dress to give to the men, and when questioned by her father's soldiers about what she held hidden in her skirts, she told them they were roses. They demanded to see, and in order to keep her from being caught, the bread was miraculously turned to flowers. (Note: this story gets told about a bunch of different female saints. It seems to have been a really popular sort of story.) She is shown in gorgeous clothing as would befit a princess, and her lap is full of roses.
is for Francisco de Zurbaran.Francisco de Zurbaran, painting in Spain in the early 1600s, specialized in a starkly beautiful style that used light and shadow to heighten the emotional effect of his paintings. He generally painted saints posed in a meditative aspect, with light beaming down to leave one side of the saint's body in light and the other in shadow. Spain at this time was busy not embracing Mannerism as the Italians were, and as Gardner puts it, "Spain seemed to reject all that the Italian Renaissance had stood for, just as it was to reject for a long time the scientific revolution and the Enlightenment." In some ways, Spain has always isolated itself from the rest of Europe, going their own way in several fields, including the artistic one. Gardner, again: "There appear to be two sides to the Spanish genius in the period of the Counter Reformation and the Baroque: fervent religious faith and ardent mysticism on the one hand and an iron realism on the other; St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross can be taken as representing the first; the practical St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuit order, the latter."
St. Francis in Meditation, 1639
Here, we can see that Zurbaran's style was primarily realist, with the rough robes of the saint and his tightly clenched hands meticulously rendered. But the positioning of the figures and the way the light is rendered adds a more mystical, prayerful aspect that turns them into contemplative figures. Here, St. Francis holds a skull, the memento mori that reminds the saint and the onlooker both about the frailty of life. This Francis is shown in fierce prayer, his lips parted as he contemplates the divine. This painting can be compared to another of the St. Francis he painted, a full-length version showing the saint in a calmer, but no less ardent, stance.
(St. Francis of Assisi is my confirmation saint, and one who I still feel very close to. Visiting Assisi's gorgeous double-church was a highlight of my trip there.)
St. Serapion, 1628
This particularly moving painting is of St. Serapion, a young soldier-turned-missionary-to-the-Moors who was crucified in Algiers. He was a member of the Mercedarian Order, and he is shown in their robes with their insignia. His slumped body, suspended by ropes, is a particularly poignant image of a martyr-saint.
St. Casilda, 1638-1642
This stately portrait shows St. Casilda, daughter of a Muslim ruler who wanted to feed Christian prisoners held by her father. She hid bread in the skirts of her dress to give to the men, and when questioned by her father's soldiers about what she held hidden in her skirts, she told them they were roses. They demanded to see, and in order to keep her from being caught, the bread was miraculously turned to flowers. (Note: this story gets told about a bunch of different female saints. It seems to have been a really popular sort of story.) She is shown in gorgeous clothing as would befit a princess, and her lap is full of roses.