'Carlo Crivelli: Shadows on the Sky' at the Ikon Gallery, Birmingham

Carlo Crivelli isn't one of the big names of the renaissance and he rarely gets mentioned but I've long been fascinated by his paintings in the National Gallery in London. The National Gallery has a good selection of his works in the collection and I would've thought if anywhere held an exhibition about Crivelli it would be there since it has so many of his works. Instead, the National Gallery is supporting the Ikon Gallery to hold the exhibition and has loaned four paintings to it, including two from its storage that I've never seen on the walls of the National Gallery before. 

The first thing I noticed on going into the exhibition is that it's in a big white room with a divider in the middle, acres of white walls. I'm used to seeing Crivelli hung on the richly coloured walls of the National Gallery, not in all this whiteness. The paintings are very spread out which emphasises the plainness of the walls but it also helps to focus on the paintings themselves. Crivelli's paintings are always packed with details so we have the colourful, detailed paintings against the stark, plain white of the walls. An interesting experiment. 

The first few paintings you come to are relatively small and one of my favourites was the painting of Mary Magdalene from around 1491-94. The figure of the Magdalene is set in a niche, almost as if she was a statue, holding a jar of oil, her symbol since she washed Christ's feet. Her hair cascades freely down her back and she holds her cloak out of the way of her feet. And then we see one of Crivelli's trademarks, her foot slightly over the edge of the ground she stands on - he does this time again using feet or random fruit or vegetables, his little trick to emphasise the three dimensionality he was seeking. To add more interest he's painted the wall of the niche as cracked and crumbling, which probably represents something to him and whoever commissioned the painting. 

On the next wall is a gorgeous, small Virgin and Child from around 1480 in a lovely tabernacle style frame. And it is gorgeous with the swags of hanging fruit behind the Virgin's head (another Crivelli trademark) and the delicate robe she wears. Then you see the Child's face. His hair hangs in ringlets and he's clutching what looks like an apple. In the background on the left is a lush forest but, on the right, is a dead landscape and a single dead tree. There's a lot going on in this little painting with life and death going on in the background, the lushness of the fruit, the Virgin as queen of heaven in her decorated golden robe... but what's going on with the Child? Is the apple meant to be the fruit from the tree of knowledge and he's clutching original sin to himself, perhaps hinting that he'll free us from sin through his own life and death? There's a lot to consider here.

One of my favourites in the exhibition was the large Virgin and Child from 1482 on loan from the Vatican. The painting was recently restored by the Vatican and it looks gorgeous. The swag of fruit across the top (with rather over-sized grapes) and the Virgin's robe spilling over the edge of the plinth her throne sits on cover Crivelli's trademarks, then there's the delicate cloth of gold behind the throne and, of course, the detail and richness of the Virgin's robe. The Christ is a toddler now with a rather ornate hair style, standing in his mother's lap and, once again, holding the apple. His green tunic reflects the colours in his mother's robe.

And then you notice the tiny figure kneeling at the Virgin's feet. The figures' robe is a Franciscan habit but who is he? An image of St Francis? or perhaps he's the donor of this painting? It was quite common to include a small image of the donor in the painting earlier in the century but that was an old fashioned conceit by the time this was painted so there must be a reason for including him. 

The painting that provides the title for the exhibition is a painting of another Franciscan and this is 'The Vision of Blessed Gabriele' from around 1489 and on loan from the National Gallery. I don't know who Gabriele was but it's quite a striking painting. He's kneeling in prayer in a rural setting with a vision of the Virgin and Child high in the sky. As ever with Crivelli, it's the details I always look for: his wooden sandals are off, the detail of the rope around his waist, a bible is open on the ground, the pond with a duck and another bird, the people on the road in the distance, the flock of birds in the sky, all the tiny angels in the vision and is that a cave behind him? He has the spikey halo of one of the blessed.

Another painting on loan from the National Gallery is the very large 'The Annunciation with Saint Emidius' from 1486. Most paintings of the annunciation focus solely on the Virgin and on Gabriel, but this is more like a cityscape with the annunciation right up front but look at all the activity in the background. It's odd having the saint with his bishop's mitre and holding an image of the church named for him alongside Gabriel as the beam of light from God's hand streaks down to the Virgin (through a handy gap in the wall, you'll notice).

What are all those people doing in the background of what is normally a private scene? I suppose it would be odd to have an empty cityscape and they certainly help with the perspective, getting smaller the further away they are. The painting might not have a swag of fruit at the top but it does have a vegetable sticking out over the ledge at the bottom. The whole city is very ornate with every surface covered in details and even the sky has drifts of clouds and a flock of doves. It's an incredible painting.

There are nine Crivelli paintings on show in total with loans from the National Gallery, the Vatican, the V&A, the Wallace Collection and the Gemaldegalerie in Berlin. There's also a small 'installation' by Susan Collis - I'm not sure why but I was there for the Crivellis. It's strange that this is the first exhibition of Crivelli's work in the UK - I wonder why he's overlooked? Maybe he needs some high profile fans to bring more attention to his works. I'm very pleased I went to see this exhibition and it seems to be doing well given the number of people who were there with me on a Wednesday afternoon. The exhibition is free to enter.

Le Perugin at Musee Jacquemart-Andree, Paris

Last week we went over to Paris to visit the marvellous Musee Jacquemart-Andree to see the exhibition of works by Perugino, who was a student alongside Leonardo da Vinci and, later, was Raphael's master. He's in an odd place in the history of art because I've only ever come across him in the context of other people (like I've just described in relation to Leonardo and Raphael) rather than in his own right. So when I was told about the exhibition I thought, yes, let's find out something about the man.

I went to the Musee Jacquemart-Andree three years ago to see the great exhibition of works by Fra Angelico. On that occasion I immediately joined the queue to get into the exhibition and paid little attention to the standing collection at the musee. This visit was a bit more leisurely and I at least looked at some of the collection and I'm jolly pleased I did.

I found two panels by Carlo Crivelli of three saints each and my favourite is this one with a grumpy looking Saint Jerome wagging his finger at someone.  Don't you just love it when you find a great - and fun - painting when you're least expecting it? The colours are vibrant and the poses lifelike. There were some lovely Renaissance paintings on display and some day I really must look round the standing collection at the musee, it seems to house some fascinating stuff.

Unlike the Fra Angelico exhibition, there wasn't a queue to get in but it was reasonably and comfortably full. There were lots of paintings of the Virgin and Child in various poses (including a very sly looking Virgin with wafer thin red lips) and virtually all of the paintings were religious in theme (Saint Sebastian being pierced by arrows seemed quite popular). But I didn't fall in love with any of them. It was good to see them, especially those still glowing with vibrant colours but none helped me understand the man or see where he was coming from or where he was taking me.

One of my favourite paintings was an altarpiece with three scenes, beginning with the adoration of the Magi, which is a lovely piece. I love the composition and the colours but I can't help feeling that the perspective is wrong. If Mary stood up she'd dwarf Joseph who's standing behind her. It has a lovely Italian landscape background, changing colour as it moves into the distance and I like the gentlemen posing in their Renaissance tights. So lifelike!

The painting that realy stood out for me was the 'Battle of Love and Chastity' that I suppose should really be translated as sex and virginity. We have cupids shooting arrows to kill and centaurs killing virgins, all trying to get the upper hand in the battle. I've not seen (or heard of, for that matter) a painting like this before so it was really interesting to see it as part of the 'profane' element of an otherwise religious exhibition. Bloodshed and sex, what more could a patron look for?  How odd!

The visit to the musee ended by stepping into the  Cafe Jacquemart-Andree and lunch. In turn this ended with a glorious patisserie that was most yum. And yum indeed. If you're in Paris and have some time to kill you could do worse that going to Boulevard Haussmann and visiting the Musee Jacquemart-Andre to see the winter garden, the glorious staircases, the 18th century furniture and standing collection - and whatever exhibition happens to be on at the time. I shall certainly go back!

'What Is Renaissance Art?' at the National Gallery

I took the afternoon off work yesterday to attend a lecture on renaissance art at the National Gallery by Gill Hart. I wasn't expecting anything in particular from this 'taster' session but thought I'd try it out. I 'did' the renaissance - Italian and Northern European - at school in the '70s so I was familiar with the main themes and wanted a refresher. And that's exactly what I got.

Gill open by explaining the main themes to renaissance art and, briefly, put it in the context of Europe at the time, exploring the Americas and the Far East and using the vast wealth to invest in a new found interest in antiquity and art. Then she showed us a series of paintings on a big screen to illustrate the development of painting during the renaissance. She kept repeating that the renaissance wasn't the pinnacle of perfection, it was a time of experimentation - which it definitely was. The exploration of perspective along mathematical lines to make paintings more real and the study of anatomy.

I was a bit silently smug to note that none of the paintings she introduced us to were new to me, and that wasn't really the intention anyway. For me, it reminded me of my school days and the paintings Miss Robinson enthused about as she took us through the renaissance when I was 16, hearing her roll her tongue around some of the names, such as Pollaiuolo (a lovely sound to wrap your tongue around). We looked at pictures in Gombrich and the Phaidon series of art books and, what I have since learned, is that there's nothing to compare with looking at the paintings in the flesh. It is so much better to look at the real painting.

All of the paintings Gill showed us are in the National Gallery collection so we can see the real thing for free whenever we want. I noted down the paintings and the rooms they're in - including those that are in the current 'Strange Beauty' exhibition - so I can go back and look at them at my leisure.

After a tea break (that I wasn't expecting) and a chat with a nice lady who'd come down from Nottingham specifically for the lecture we started the second half of the lecture. This covered off portraiture of men before heading into a more detailed look at three of the paintings we'd already seen: 'The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian' by Antonio and Piero del Pollaiuolo (1475), 'Bacchus and Ariadne' by Titian (1523) and 'The Ambassadors' by Holbein (1533).

It was fascinating hearing the discussion of the paintings, the details and the reasons why one type of painting might be popular in one Italian state and not in another. The patronage of the Medici was, of course, touched on as indispensable to growth and influence of Florentine art. There was, sadly, no reference to Fra Angelico even though he has a painting made up of five panels in the National Gallery.

Something that sprung to mind when I was shown the Titian is that it was the cover painting on a glossy book about the National Gallery my mother bought in about 1976-77 and that I'd totally forgotten about. It was an early example of a coffee table book that she got because I was doing history of art at school and I never imagined I'd see these paintings in the flesh. And, indeed, I have seen them and have become terribly blasé about many of them and that's the wrong reaction. I should be glorying in them.

If there's anything the lecture has taught me it's to not become blasé, to look at the detail in the paintings - it's all there for a reason - and to try to understand what an ostensibly  pretty painting is trying to tell me, what is the historical and artistic context? Question it and try to understand it.

I really enjoyed the lecture and will be happy to go back for more. The level of detail was right for a 'taster' session, just enough to draw us in for more. Thank you Gill, that was fascinating!