Showing posts with label tintoretto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tintoretto. Show all posts

25 October 2010

Spiderwoman

Book VI of the Metamorphoses opens with the story of Arachne. (picture from wikicommons by galak76, used by permission under creative commons licence)



Arachne appears in a fresco painted by Francesco del Cossa in the Palazzo Schifanoia in the late 1460s. Although the Palazzo doesn’t seem to have a website, you can see the fresco in situ in the following video, where it appears about 25 seconds in.






At some point between 1475 and 1485 Tintoretto painted the above painting of Athene and Arachne, which is now in Florence’s Galleria degli Uffizi, but does not appear to be on their website.




The above fresco of Arachne by Veronese dates from 1520 and is in Venice’s Palazzo Ducale.
 


Another fresco of Arachne was painted by Herman Posthumus in 1542 and is from the Landshut Stadtresidentz, but does not appear to be on the Stadresidentz’s website.



Ruben’s version of the story of Arachne, painted 1636-7, is now in Richmond’s Virginia Museum of Fine Arts.



Perhaps the most famous representation of the story of Arachne and Minerva is this painting from 1657 by Velázquez, now in Madrid’s Prado.



The above picture from the Iconos site is a 1695 painting by Giordano and is now in El Escorial, but is not on its website, or indeed anywhere else that I can find. (unless stated otherwise all images in this post are from wikicommons and in the public domain)

20 June 2009

Danae: the 16th Century

Ovid does not tell the story of Danae in the Metamorphoses but alludes to it several times with reference to her son. Nevertheless, she has proved a popular subject for artists. Danae was the only child of Acrisius, king of Argos, who had been told by an oracle that she would have a son who would kill him. To avoid this, Acrisius locked Danae up in a room at the top of a tall tower. That randy old god Zeus/Jupiter saw her and fell for her. He came to visit her as a shower of gold, and in time she bore a son to him. Rather than kill his relatives, which would provoke the Furies, Acrisius stuffed Danae and her son, Perseus, into a chest which he threw into the sea, thus making Poseidon/Neptune responsible for their fate. Of course they survived and Perseus grew up to become a hero.


Our first picture was painted by Jan Gossaert (aka Mabuse) in 1523. It is now in Munich's Alte Pinakotek.


The above picture was painted around 1531 by Correggio. It is now in Rome's Villa Borghese.





Titian painted various versions of Danae and the shower of gold in the 1550s. The ones shown above are in (from top to bottom):
Naples's Museo di Capodimonte (but not on their website),
Madrid's Prado (type Danae in the search box -- don't miss the informative audio file),
St. Petersburg's State Hermitage, and
Vienna's Kunsthistorisches Museum.
(Feel free to play spot the differences with them.)


At some point in the second half of the 16th century Tintoretto painted the above picture, which is now in Lyon's Musée des Beaux-Arts, but not on their website. (all images come from wikicommons and are in the public domain)

28 February 2009

Lucretia: The 17th Century

In my last post we looked at some 16th century art featuring the story of Lucretia. Roman History Books and More came up with another example by Raphael, which is now in New York's Metropolitan Museum. I've also found another two paintings from the 16th century: Il Sadoma's 1518 Death of Lucretia, now in Budapest's Szépmûvészeti Múzeum, but not on their website, and Tintoretto's 1578-80 Tarquin and Lucretia, now in The Art Institute of Chicago.

Moving on to the 17th century proper, the picture below was painted by Rubens from 1609-12. The painting was looted from Germany by a Russian soldier during WWII, and has been exhibited in St. Petersburg's The Hermitage and Moscow's Pushkin Museum. The history of the painting and Germany's attempts to have it returned are covered by The Guardian, Deutsche Welle, and Passport Moscow.



Guido Reni's workshop seems to have churned out quite a few paintings showing Lucretia's suicide in the second quarter of the 17th century. The one below is now in Museu de Arte de São Paulo, but they seem to be having problems with their website. At any rate, I couldn't get the picture to display. Other examples are in Rome's Pinacoteca Capitolina (not on their website), the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and Barnard Castle's The Bowes Museum.



1650 seems to have been a bumper year for Lucretias. The two pictures below are in private collections. The upper one is by Cagnacci, and the lower one is by Simon Vouet (image courtesy of www.simon-vouet.org under creative commons licence). Carlos Parada's website Greek Mythology Link has a picture by du Fresnoy, which is in Kassel's Hessisches Landesmuseum, whose website I find totally baffling.




Giordano painted both a rape and a suicide of Lucretia. The rape was painted in 1663 and is shown below. The painting is in Naples's Museo di Capodimonte, but I cannot find it on their website. No date is given for the suicide, which is now in Stuttgart's Staatsgalerie.



Rembrandt painted two versions of Lucretia's suicide. The first (1664) is now in Washington DC's National Gallery of Art, while the second (1666), shown below, is in Minneapolis's Institute of Arts, which discusses the painting in detail here.



Sebastiano Ricci's 1685 painting, Lucretia, shown below, is in a hospital in Parma, though sources differ over which one.



Crespi's 1695 painting of the rape of Lucretia is now in Washington DC's National Gallery of Art. (all illustrations are in the public domain and are from wiki commons unless otherwise credited)

Encroaching a little bit into the 18th century, let's finish this installment with Handel's Cantata "Lucrezia", composed around 1708 when Handel was in Italy.

10 December 2008

Leuconoe's Story

Leuconoe, the sister of Arsippe, tells the next story. Venus and Mars were having an affair, and the Sun told Vulcan, Venus's husband, about it. Vulcan set a trap for the lovers, catching them in bed together with a net and inviting all the gods to come and see them. In revenge for her humiliation Venus caused the Sun to fall in love with Leucothea. This made Clytie, who some say was Leucothea's sister, jealous, and she told their father, who had Leucothea buried alive. The Sun still took no notice of Clytie, who, mad with love for him, sat on the ground watching him pass overhead. She took root and became a heliotrope.(wikicommons picture of heliotrope by Augustin Roche licensed under Creative Commons)


The first part of the story (also told by the bard Demodocus in Homer's Odyssey) was a very popular theme for artists. Our first representation comes from a tapestry in London's Victora and Albert museum, though the accompanying audio commentary is singularly uninformative about the tapestry, concentrating instead on telling the story of Vulcan, Mars and Venus.

The 1555 picture by Tintoretto shown below is now in Munich's Alte Pinakothek. Vulcan has obviously come home unexpectedly and Mars is hiding under the table.



In the 1630 picture below (now in Madrid's Prado), Velazquez has chosen to show Apollo bringing the news of his discovery to Vulcan in his forge.




Most artists, however, have been attracted by the theme of Mars and Venus being caught in Vulcan's net. A 1534 bowl painted by Giorgio Andreoli is in St. Petersburg's Hermitage. A few years later around 1540 Maarten van Heemskerck painted a picture now in Vienna's Kunsthistorisches Museum, again showing the lovers caught in the net with all the gods looking on. In the mid 1550s Guglielmo della Porta produced a bronze plaquette showing Vulcan's capture of Venus and Mars (now in Washington's National Gallery of Art). Los Angeles's J. Paul Getty Museum has a 1585 drawing by Golzius of Venus and Mars Surprised by Vulcan, which may have served as an inspiration for this painting by de Clerck now in a private collection in Belgium. Also in the Getty is Wtewael's Mars and Venus Surprised by the Gods, painted from 1610 to 1614.

Lovis Corinth's 1909 picture shown below is in Munich's Neue Pinakothek, but does not appear to be on their website. The picture is called "Homeric Laughter, First Version", but I have not found a second version.



The contemporary artist Nancy Farmer has a picture of Hephaestus's Trap.

The statue of Clytie below by Parodi is now in Genoa's Palazzo Reale, but does not appear to be on its website. The bust of Clytie is by George Watts, and is now in London's Guildhall Art Gallery.




Lastly, here is Evelyn de Morgan's 1886 picture of Clytie. I've been unable to find the present location but it was sold in 1991, so it is probably in a private collection.


(all pictures in public domain except where stated otherwise)

02 October 2008

Semele

Ovid's next story is about Semele, one of Jupiter's mortal loves. Juno persuaded Semele to ask Jupiter to show himself to her in all his glory, and she got blasted.

Our first look at the story is this 1550s work attributed to Tintoretto and now in London's National Gallery. In the next century, Rubens also produced a Jupiter et Sémélé as part of a series of paintings on mythological themes. It is now in Brussels' Royal Museum of Fine Arts. Jan Voorhout (1647 - 1723) produced the undated picture below, now in the collection of Germany's Universität Göttingen.






In 1744 Handel wrote his opera Semele to a libretto written by Congreve for an earlier opera by John Eccles. The libretto was adapted for Handel by Newburgh Hamilton, who used some of Pope's verse in his adaptation. Those in the right part of the world at the right time might like to know that Handel's Semele is going to be performed at the Pacific Opera Victoria in British Columbia. Their website for this performance has a synopsis and video highlights of other performances of Handel's work. More unusually, here is a performance of an aria from Eccles's version.



Gustave Moreau painted two versions of Jupiter and Semele, shown below. Both are in the Musée Gustave Moreau. The left painting is slightly earlier, produced around 1890, while the one on the rightcomes from 1894 or 1895.




The Scottish artist John Duncan (1866-1945) painted this undated picture of Semele (click on the second picture from the right in the top row) by herself. Jupiter is not present, only Semele in flames.