'Titian: Love, Desire, Death' at the National Gallery

The new exhibition at the National Gallery is 'Titian: Love, Desire, Death' which brings together Titian's 'poesie' series of paintings for the first time in nearly 500 years. The paintings are all of mythological scenes based on the tales of Ovid and others. The exhibition is basically in two rooms in the main gallery, the first does some scene setting explaining the background to the paintings and Titian's relationship with Phillip II of Spain, his patron at the time, and the paintings are all in the next room, seven large paintings in gilded frames.

Seven paintings? you might ask, but the 'poesie' series includes only six paintings. To which the National Gallery replies that it's included its 'Death of Actaeon' in the London exhibition since it was originally conceived as part of the series but was actually painted later. I don't know if it will be part of the exhibition when it moves on to other museums but it fits in nicely with the rest of the series. One of the other paintings is 'Diana and Actaeon' showing the moment when the young hunter Actaeon stumbles across the goddess bathing in the woods. For that sin the goddess turns him into a stag and he's attacked and killed by his own hunting dogs. In the 'Death' painting we can see Actaeon in the middle distance with the head of a stag, caught mid-transformation as Diana shoots him and his dogs attack him.

I prefer the painting in which Actaeon finds the goddess for the brighter colours and all the details, such as the nymph peeking from behind a pillar and the little lapdog growling and baring its teeth at the intruder.

Another scene of transformation is 'The Rape of Europa' and a detail of that painting is on the poster for the exhibition. The story behind the painting isn't the most pleasant but it's a lovely painting. Zeus has turned himself into a bull to capture Europa, his latest lust, who he carries off. Poor Europa looks very unsteady on the bull's back, her scarf whipping in the wind and little cupids doing their best to try to make it a love scene, but it's not. My favourite cupid is the one riding the dolphin in the sea, lower left.

A painting I hadn't seen before was 'Danae' with its dramatic light and dark sections. It shows Danae being visited by Zeus as a golden shower and who then gives birth to Perseus. There's a lovely contrast between the light, luminous Danae and the old, weathered woman looking after her (and not doing a very good job of it with Zeus around - you can't trust him around beautiful young women).

There's a little bit extra Titian in the way the exhibition is laid out in London. You exit through the shop and then into Room 8 of the Gallery which has been re-hung with the other Titian paintings the National Gallery owns. So, if you're looking for any Titian paintings, that's where they are for the moment (and the room is open to the public). To add context, paintings by other leading contemporary artists are also on display, including Michelangelo, Sebastiano (the huge 'Lazarus' painting), Parmigianino and Andrea del Sarto. It was a nice surprise to leave the exhibition only to have yet more Titians to look at.

Once it closes in London, the exhibition is travelling up to Edinburgh (two of the paintings are jointly owned by the National Galleries of Scotland with the National Gallery in London), then goes to the Prado in Madrid (which owns a painting) and then to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston (it owns 'The Rape of Europa'). 

Four Northern Renaissance Paintings at the Prado, Madrid

The Museo del Prado in Madrid has a great collection of paintings from the Northern Renaissance, the countries around Holland, Belgium and Germany in the 1400s and 1500s. That's not too surprising in a way since Spain used to rule over some of those countries so it's only to be expected that some of the glorious art works found their way into Spanish collections. It has room after room on the ground floor full of these paintings, so very different to the Italian Renaissance paintings in rooms nearby. I've chosen four paintings that I particularly like, starting off with Jan Gossaert's 'Christ Blessing, the Virgin Mary and Saint John the Baptist' from 1510-1520.

The thing that always grabs my attention is the delicacy of the figure of Christ in the middle, the serenity and stillness. Is he blessing the Virgin? If so, why? And why is John pointing at Christ? It's an odd composition, especially with the angel popping through the round opening above Christ's head. Maybe it was painted to go above the doorway into a private chapel of something like that, so you receive your blessing for going into the chapel? I really don't know, but it's not a painting I find I can just glance at and walk past, once glanced at I need to look properly.

An earlier painting is 'The Descent from the Cross' by Rogier van der Weyden, painted before 1443. We see Christ being held by Joseph of Arimathia and Nicodemus, Saint John aiding the fainting Virgin and, I think, Mary Magdalene being distraught on the far side of Christ (in Italian paintings of the time her hair would be loose). The figures are almost life-sized and that makes the painting even more dominating. The Virgin's figure reflects that of her son as he hangs limply before he reaches the ground. What would you think if you saw this hanging in a church surrounded by flickering candles reflecting the gold background and the rich colours, the sight of your lord who gave his life to save yours? It must have been a powerful image back then.  

Heironomous Bosch, known simply as El Bosco in Spain, is a great favourite at the Prado and has a room to himself that houses some of his greatest paintings, including 'The Garden of Earthly Delights'.

The painting is constantly surrounded by viewers several deep so you've got to be patient in order to see it properly and up close. It's a triptych of three scenes showing paradise, earth and hell, all with so much weirdness you can only wonder what sort of magic mushrooms El Bosco ate. It's odd since it's this painting that people crowd around leaving his other works easy to see up close - this is his 'big hit' that people know but you can learn a lot about him from the other paintings as well.

The Prado held a major exhibition of El Bosco's work three years ago that was sold out and opening hours had to be extended due to popular demand. I was lucky enough to get tickets and enjoyed the exhibition but it was too crowded to be able to view the works in comfort. I enjoyed seeing his paintings much more now that they're hanging together in a single room without the crowds.

A final painting I want to show you is this self-portrait by Albrecht Durer from 1498. Here he is, a young man, assured and confident, dressed richly like an aristocrat and with his life ahead of him. It shows his Italian influences with the three-quarter pose and the landscape through the window.

It's also a bit of a show-off painting using himself as the poster-boy for his workshop. If you look under the window there's some text inscribed on the wall. This says, "1498, I painted this after my image, I was twenty six, Albrecht Durer". So, the show off was only 26 when he painted this astonishing self-portrait. He had an interesting and largely rewarding life ahead of him and he left behind a great body of work. Surely we're due a Durer exhibition sometime soon?

I first came across this self-portrait when I was 16 at school (along with the van der Weyden 'Descent' painting) and was disappointed on my first visit to the Prado three years ago when it was out on loan so I didn't see it. I've seen it since though.

There are dozens of other Northern paintings on display in the ground floor galleries but these are the four I wanted to share. 

'Lorenzo Lotto Portraits' at the National Gallery

The new exhibition at the National Gallery is a collection of portrait paintings by Lorenzo Lotto, a 16th Century Venetian painter. If you like old art then you'll probably have seen two of his paintings that are the biggies, and that's probably it. It certainly was for me. One portrait of a man and one of a woman and that was my total knowledge of Mr Lotto. Little did I know there was so much more to learn and admire.

His problem seems to have been when he was born that put him in competition with his Venetian rival, Titian. Lotto worked with Raphael to paint the Pope's apartments in the Vatican so that's no mean feat at all. He pioneered innovations in portraiture due to the influence on Northern European painters that kept him working for a while. But, ultimately, he was over-shadowed by Titian and faded into penury and obscurity. Which is a great shame. He had links with the Dominicans (which is usually a good thing for art) and died in 1556 after entering the Holy House at Loreto and living there for four years. In his will in 1546 he wrote, 'Art did not earn me what I spent.'

Lotto seems to have been a painter for the middle classes rather than the aristocracy the time so we see more homely portraits than those of power and vast wealth. His sitters were pretty well off to be able to afford a portrait and have somewhere to hang it, of course.

One of the first things that I noticed about his portraits were the hands, very expressive hands and often, almost photogenic in their realism. The portrait of Lucina Brembati (above) is a great example even though the photograph doesn't do it justice. The hands could almost be photographs stuck onto the canvas.

Another very noticeable portrait is the one of Andrea Odoni dated 1527, painted when Lotto was the peak of his powers and he's showing them off in this painting. Odoni was a collector of art and antiquities so he's surrounded by some of his collection including a small statue that he seems to be holding out to the viewer. Beside this painting are two small statues similar to those in the painting, which is a nice touch. It's a great painting.

A few years after painting the Odoni portrait he painted 'Portrait of a Woman Inspired by Lucretia', thought to be a portrait of Lucrezia Valier. In one hand the woman holds a drawing of Lucretia, a Roman woman who killed herself to save her honour after being raped, while the woman's other hand points to it. There's some odd morality going on in this painting but, at the same time, it's a portrait of a woman telling the viewer that she is in control of her situation. The rather sumptuous dress and the delicate head-dress tell us she was definitely monied.

The paintings in the final room of the exhibition are possibly the most interesting and insightful into their sitters. 'Brother Gregorio Belo of Vicenza' from 1547 is a really powerful portrait. His very realistic features, the clenched fist, the robe draped over his shoulders while he reads a sacred book with a vision of the Crucifixion in the background. Brother Gregorio was a Hieronymite or Poor Hermit of St Jerome who is trying to emulate his patron saint. The book in his hand has been identified and a copy of the book is in a glass case beside the painting - I really like these little touches that help bring the exhibition and paintings to life. On the other side of the room is full length gown in a similar style to one worn by a woman in the portrait beside it (the dress on display probably belonged to Grand Duchess Eleonora of Toledo).

A final portrait I want to mention is 'Portrait of a Man with a Felt Hat' from 1541. The painting is oil on paper which we're told was common at the time but few have survived over the centuries. I wonder who this man was and why he had his portrait painted? He looks a bit nervous and shy, his clothes are a bit dowdy - but presumably his best - and he looks a bit tired. This is a masterly portrait with different textures in the clothing and the lined face. It also does what I like about portraits, it makes you wonder who the sitter was, what they were thinking about and what happened to them. Has this man been persuaded to run for public office so needed a portrait to hang in the town hall or something? I wonder ...

The exhibition opens today (5 November) in the ground floor galleries of the National Gallery and entry is free. It's spread across four rooms and is well worth visiting when you have a spare hour. The exhibition was jointly organised by the National gallery and the Prado, so has a good provenance. I'll certainly be going back, it's a really good exhibition that has whetted my appetite to see more works by Lorenzo Lotto. 

Fra Angelico 3/12

On the 18th day of each month in 2017 I'm posting a picture of a painting by Fra Angelico that I have seen and want to share to celebrate his Feast Day on 18 February. This month I've chosen the altarpiece in the Museo del Prado in Madrid, 'The Annunciation'. It shows that moment when the Virgin is told that she will be the mother of God's son and the holy spirit enters her in a shaft of light. To the left is the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden, a reminder of original sin from which the Virgin is free, and, below the main altarpiece are five small scenes from the life of the Virgin, from birth to death.

It's a glorious painting, full of light and colour, with the angel Gabriel bowing to the almost enthroned Virgin Mary. The longer you gaze at this painting the more you see, such as the tiny detail around the hems of the clothing and the garden full of little flowers (some are carnations but I didn't recognise many of the flowers).

In the room in the Prado where this is currently housed there's a bench a few feet in front of this painting so you can sit and gaze at it for as long as you like if you don't mind other visitors wandering past. I sat there for a while, scanning the painting and then getting up and going closer when i found another detail I wanted to see. It rewards multiple viewings.

Heironomous Bosch: 'El Bosco' at the Museo del Prado

It's the 500th anniversary of Heironomous Bosch so how do you celebrate it? If you're the Prado in Madrid, you put on an exhibition using your own Bosch paintings as the centrepiece and there we have the 'Garden of Earthly Delights' by El Bosco. It's been phenomenally successful, posters all over Madrid, tickets hard to come by and I only saw the exhibition in it's last few days thanks to an extension to the original closing date due to demand. How could I be in Madrid and not see it?

That in itself should've sent a signal - what does it mean if it's that popular? It probably means that it's going to be crowded, perhaps, that it'll be difficult to see some of the paintings and that, possibly, it won't feel terribly comfortable. Yes, that was exactly right.

Timed entry helped, of course, but the crowds inside the exhibition were ridiculous in front of the 'star' paintings that everyone wanted to see (and much less busy in front of others). At times they were six deep in front of the biggies that meant waiting ages to get close enough to stand a chance of seeing any detail. I do think the audio-guides were part of the problem, with people hanging around, not necessarily looking at the paintings, listening to the commentary. Double the size of the crowd and this is something like I found it. It also gives you an idea of the size of the painting.

Think about Bosch and I suspect that most of us conjure up images of tiny, often naked, figures scrambling round a nightmarish landscape like in his 'Garden of Earthly Delights'. Paintings like this often show the perfection of Eden, the temptations of Earth and the pain and horror of hell since we, inevitably, take the wrong path and end up suffering for our sins. It's always worth looking at the detail in Bosch paintings, even the detail of a story we all know so well, such as the adoration of the magi when the foreign kings pay homage to the newborn Christ.

In Bosch's version of the story we see the kings in the three ages of man (young, middle aged and old) in their grand clothes and we have a Virgin and baby out in the open beside the stable. But who are the characters leering from the inside of the barn or crawling on its roof? If you look even closer you can see people dancing in the fields in the distance. What's this all about? It's not in the traditional story of the way the scene is usually painted. That's where Bosch brings his artist's eye and his story-telling to the fore. It's all there for a reason and it's our job to work it out.

Similarly in his 'Ecco Homo' we have a crowd shouting for Christ's punishment while Christ cowers on the ledge as he's pushed forward. Wouldn't you if you had a crowd baying for your blood? And again, look at the detail, look at the cityscape in the distance. Look at the hats and clothes, fantastical but some are remarkably similar to what people wore when this was painted. Are we still baying for blood or are we grateful for the Christ's sacrifice for our sins? Look at those faces and expressions and I suspect it's the former. Bosch is always telling a story that would've been obvious and powerful when these paintings were first unveiled but which we now need to try to piece together.

A painting I was pleased to see was 'Christ Mocked' which is normally in the National Gallery but is on loan to the exhibition. I'm familiar with this painting, with Christ gazing peacefully out at the viewer while he suffers the mockery of the crowd and is about to be crowned with thorns. Christ's face is rather ethereal compared to the more earthly faces around him.

One of the reasons that I like this painting is that there are only five characters in it as opposed to the untold numbers in many of Bosch's other works. It's small and intimate and implies that you are present and watching what's happening. Will you stand up for your Lord or pass on by? That's an age-old question and is current with the present day attacks on immigrants and others and the need for right-thinking people to support their fellow human beings. There is always someone that the majority needs to protect and cherish because they enrich us all. Bosch tells us that through his works.

A painting I wasn't familiar with was another triptych, 'From Paradise to Hell', with multiple scenes. The left panel shows Eve being created from Adam's ribs, meeting the snake and apple and then being expelled from Eden. The central panel shows the multiple ways that mankind can sin and, obviously, we're at all of them! The inevitable result is condemnation to a fiery hell. Just when you think there's ambiguity in Bosch he goes all literal on us again!

This was a great exhibition despite it's uncomfortable popularity. So many Bosch paintings of all sorts brought together in tribute to his great artistry and story-telling at a time when the majority of people couldn't read letters but could read a painting.  I'm so pleased I managed to get into the exhibition and I hope something like it is put on in London one day. The exhibition has now closed but it'll linger in the memory.

Hieronomous Bosch will now always be El Bosco to me.