Titian and Those Other Guys at the MFA Boston

I wasn't sure how much to expect from our clowder of kittens and their friends as we made our way through the rain (I bet nobody has noticed how much it has been raining in New England. I might be led to believe I was living in Seattle, but the coffee is still bad, the live music overpriced and the footwear is stylish) and into the restored Huntington entrance of the MFA Boston for the Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese: Rivals in Renaissance Venice show. The titters about bum cracks from the 6-8 year old group was taken up in exuberant chorus by the 4-and-under set. I won't bore you with the details, but my nightmare scenario involved a disarmingly handsome officer from the Italian questura, a brightly lit room, a glowering agent from some prestigious international insurance institution, my cackling 3-year-old and a priceless broken masterpiece.

But seriously, if you live within 3 hours of Boston, try to see this show sometime during the next two weeks. It's up until August 16th, when it travels to the Louvre. As all the reviewers point out, given the costs required by the aforementioned prestigious international insurance institutions, it is highly unlikely that we will have an opportunity to see such an amazing collection of painting anytime in the near future. The only thing is, if Blicky Kitty had actually gotten that curatorship he applied for years ago, the exhibit would have been a distinctly different experience. For one, it would've been called Titian, the Other Guy, and Whosey-Whatsit; How Titian Rocked my Renaissance World.

Blicky also wouldn't have framed the interplay and visual conversations between the three artists in quite the same way. The reviewers practically make it sound like a horserace:

"Veronese is in the lead by a stretch with his depiction of the Holy Family, now it's Tintoretto coming up from the right with his Suzanna and the Elders, and wait now here comes Titian out of nowhere with a Reclining Venus. The crowd goes nuts. There's chiaroscuro everywhere and you almost can't make it out..... but yes, it's Titian, folks, winning the race by half a length."

Don't get me wrong. The interplay between artists is fascinating to see, but the true joy of this show is the opportunity to see really amazing art close up. When you stand next to a Titian, you get to experience the style that created a tidal shift in the way artists in the Western world used paint. He was the first one to use color and the depiction of light rather than line to delineate form. As his style became more mature and confident, his brushwork became a vehicle for the expression of energy and emotion. He also revolutionized the use of oil paint and glazing with his slow, exacting method of applying layer upon layer to his canvases. He painted over a reddish ground layer to lend warmth to his color then built up the paint. His subtle use of glazes (called velatura or veiling) brought out the richness of the different pigments. Titian was said to have cried "Trenta, quaranta velature!" ("Thirty, forty glazes!").

It's no small feat that Titian gained a mention in Giorgio Vasari's Lives of the Artists. Vasari chronicled all of the great Italian Renaissance artists from Cimabue to Vasari. This book is such an important source for art historians that I'm not really even sure how famous a certain little painting in the Louvre would be (or Dan Brown, for that matter -- his wife's an art historian so she'd totally back me up) if Vasari hadn't rhapsodized about its enigmatic beauty. Vasari's book traced all of the artists and their work, evaluating them for how high they ranked on the Tusca-meter. If they were Tuscan enough, they got his highest praise; garbatissimo, which translates roughly as elegant, gentile or wicked-Tuscan-ie. Of course, Michelangelo who like Vasari was born in Tuscany was the pinnacle of all things artistic.

So it's quite a feat that Titian, who had the double misfortune of not being born in that birthplace of the arts and of beating Vasari out on a big commission even made the lineup. Of course Vasari's praise was measured. Some people mentioned in the Lives thought Titian's painting would have been improved if he were to study more works from antiquity or the work of Michelangelo. Vasari even wrote that Michelangelo (the object of his total man crush), after praising the painting of Danae (above) lamented that in Venice they didn't learn how to draw well first. He quoted him as saying that if Titian were assisted by art as he is by nature, especially in the imitation of life, it would not be possible to surpass him, for he has the finest talent and a very pleasant, vivacious manner. So does that mean if he had been Tuscan, he would have been the greatest artist in the book?

Well, the good news is that I'm not in some sexy Italian jail cell, being interrogated mercilessly. The kittens actually loved the show. Elder kitten was delighted to figure out that the shell in the hand of one figure identified her as Venus. Destruction-prone younger kitten kept herself entertained for a while by admiring the pretty dresses or the animals in the foreground of the Last Supper paintings. But mostly she just delighted in calling out various body parts of each nude figure in a really, really loud voice.

Ecco qui il vostro Mandatory Fun:

Heeeere's Blicky!

Wow that's scary. Sorry and my apologies to Jack Nicholson. Let me salve your nerves with an image from MFA Boston's show Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese; Rivals in Renaissance Venice.

There, that's better. Even Venus looks frightened. Blicky scared her so much her clothes fell off. My apologies for the extended silence, gentle bloggy readers. I was really quite busy:

A. Translating the phonebook into Esperanto.

B. Building a love nest/covert missile testing range for Kim Jong-Il.

C. Building a cool pillow fort in the living room.

D. Starting a new business enterprise in the burgeoning field of door-to-door interpretive dance.

E. Altering my address and facial feastures to avoid being stalked by Mitt Romney (I told you. It could never work. Stop calling me!).

F. All of the above.

So I try to make good use of my limited reading time these days, really I do. Usually it's historical non-fiction or really amazing fiction. I mean life is short, why not fill your mind with beautiful words?

But this summer a friend convinced me to read the Twilight series. First of all thanks a lot. You know who you are. Here's an excerpt of dialogue from the Blicky homestead while I was sucked into that series.

Kittens: Mumma we're hungry. You forgot to feed us breakfast and lunch.

Me: Shhhh, Bella's talking to Edward.

Kittens: Mumma, you left us outside in the rain. We're cold and wet.

Me: Be quiet! I think he's going to tell her.

Husband: Hi Sweetie! I'm home. I vacuumed the house and I love you.

Me: Go away, you not-Edward-Cullan-mortal man. I want a divorce because you're not Edward.

Cigarettes have warning labels, alcohol has warning labels. I think the publisher should be required to place a warning label on the Twilight books too. They are the literary equivalent of crack cocaine and something needs to be done.

I was initially ashamed of my habit until I remembered a very brilliant and well-read friend scoffing as the idea of a distinction between "high art" and the trashy read. What makes the distinction? I read some Chaucer's Canterbury Tales to the kittens a while back because I remember thinking it was hysterically funny when I was little. Here's a spoiler plot summary of the Miller's Tale:

Young guy moves into an apartment at the home of an unpleasant man with a hot younger wife. Young clerk woos and seduces said wife. Nerdy guy also gets wicked crush on the hot wife. The wife and the young man hatch a plan to spend the whole night together. They convince the jealous old guy that a second deluge is coming and that he should get set up in the attic for a great flood. Clever couple enjoys some amorous sport. Lovesick nerd comes by and begs for a kiss. Hot wife sticks bum out the window. Lovesick nerd, after kissing bum is no longer lovesick, but ticked off. Stalks off to find a hot poker. Clever young clerk thinks nerd wants another kiss and received a sound branding on his bum. Clever young guy has hot young wife but sore bum. Jealous old guy wakes up thinking it's the end of the world and falls two stories. The young couple convince everyone he's nutty and live happily (albeit sorely) ever after.

So is it really so awful that I got sucked into a romance about vampires, power, love and death and metaphysics?

Enjoy your mandatory fun:

Misaki Kawai + Art - Pretense = Pure Joy

Uh oh, are we lost again? I knew I should have hired a different guide at the ICA. This one kept on jumping on the benches, singing and trying to steal stuff from the gift shop. Was that supposed to be part of the tour? We're going on a pretend museum visit and studio tour today at Blicky Kitty, because we saw a show of Misaki Kawai's last year at the ICA in Boston and I just keep thinking about her art. OK, let's get in the time machine...where should we go? Weimar Germany to try and kill Hitler? 10 BC so we can find out what Mary Magdalene thinks about Dan Brown? 1986 and warn Geraldo Rivera not to open Al Capone's vault on live tv? Naaaah, lets go back to 2007 and see some cool art. OK, the driver seems distracted by that furry gentleman in orange -- "Sir, could you please have a seat?" OK, everyone make play car sounds, "brrroooooommm, broooooommm..." Oh that was so fast! Here we are!

Wow this is so cool! She's created a whole installation using papier-mâché, wood, fabric, and other materials like felt, stickers, and yarn. The painting on the walls of the gallery really helps suggest the playful movement of the little space cars buzzing around the station. There are so many details to explore when you peek in the little rooms. The station is inhabited by figures of the artist, her friends as well as her favorite cultural figures, like John Lennon or Casper the Friendly Ghost. Her style is so winning and joyous it made me wonder what her paintings might look like. *Rriiing rrrring.* Oh sorry, that's my cell. "Hello? Misaki Kawai? This is such a coincidence! I was just blogging about you. You what? You're a big fan of Blicky Kitty and you want us to come visit your studio in Brooklyn? Thanks! That would be so great, but how would we... Just tell the time machine driver? OK, thanks! See you soon!

OK, here we are. Oh, there's a guy from VBStv there too so we'll just go in with him (click here for video, part one). Emily Brouillet, Assistant Curator at the ICA writes that her work is part of a Japanese style coined by graphic artist Terry Johnson (King Terry) called Hetauma. The term that combines the words for good and bad. Kawai herself explains that "Everything has a balance of good and bad to it: for example, Hetauma for me is 'bad, but good'...when something looks cute but has a funny or weird aspect to it, I think it's really special." Part of what I find compelling about her paintings is that when all pretense and traditional measures of technical skill are stripped away this enables the artist to really explore compositions of forms and color in a basic and honest way. There is a fun tension that runs through her work between a serious respect for her own aesthetic vision and her disarming playfulness and irreverence.

Oh no what's going on down here? The Manhattan Project? * Note to self: maybe we'll pop in for a little talkie-talk with Oppenheimer, circa 1939 on the way back home to 2008. Let's listen in. "What don't you like about yourself Mr. Furface?"

"Meep, meep, ma-ma meep, meep, meep!"

"Your nasal-labial folds? Oh we can take care of that with a little Restylane. Oh what's that? Not happy with your inner thighs and the pilates isn't doing it? OK just breathe in deeply and count backwards from 10."

Want in on the fun? I think her work is still up in San Francisco, and Toronto, and she will have a solo show at the LaMontagne Gallery in Boston in February. You can also check here for more upcoming shows.

Secret

Akhtamar

(click image to enlarge)

Beside the laughing lake of Van  
A little hamlet lies;  
Each night into the waves a man  
Leaps under darkened skies.  

He cleaves the waves with mightly arm,  
Needing no raft or boat,  
And swims, disdaining risk and harm,  
Towards the isle remote.  

On the dark island burns so bright  
A piercing, luring ray:  
There's lit a beacon every night  
To guide him on his way.  

Upon the island is that fire  
Lit by Tamar the fair;  
Who waits, all burning with desire,  
Beneath the shelter there.  

The lover's heart-how doth it beat!  
How beat the roaring waves!  
But, bold and scorning to retreat,  
The elements he braves.  

And now Tamar the fair doth hear,  
With trembling heart aflame,  
The water splashing-oh, so near,  
And fire consumes her frame.  

All quiet is on the shore around,  
And, black,there looms a shade:  
The darkness utters not a sound,  
The swimmer finds the maid.  

The tide-waves ripple, lisp and splash  
And murmur, soft and low;  
They urge each other, mingle, clash,  
As, ebbing out, they go.  

Flutter and rustle the dark waves.  
And with them every star  
Whispers how sinfully behaves  
The shameless maid Tamar;  

Their whisper shakes her throbbing her  
This time, as was before!  
The youth into the waves doth dart,  
The maiden prays on shore.  

But certain villains, full of spite,  
Against them did conspire,  
And on a hellish, mirky night  
Put out the guiding fire.  

The luckless lover lost his way,  
And only from afar  
The wind is carrying in his sway  
The moans of:"Ah, Tamar!"  

And through the night his voice is heard  
Upon the craggy shores,  
And, though it's muffled and blurred  
By the waves' rapid roars,  

The words fly forward-faint they are-  
"Ah, Tamar!"  
And in the morn the splashing tide  
The hapless yough cast out,  

Who,battling with the waters, died  
In an unequal bout;  
Cold lips are clenched, two words they bar:  
"Ah, Tamar!"  
And ever since, both near and far,  
They call the island Akhtamar

Hovhannes Toumanian

1869-1923

Here's a link to a film with some beautiful shots of the church of the Holy Cross on Akhtamar. Armenia is the world's oldest Christian culture and the church architecture is sublime. The Europeans saw these buildings during the Crusades and it had an important influence on the development of gothic cathedrals. 

It was constructed by King Gagik as his palatine church in 921 AD.  The iconographical program on the sculpted exterior incorporates writhing beasties influenced by Sassanian (Persian) princely hunting motifs but a lot of the images show the influence of the medieval bestiary -- an amazing source of animal stories used as allegories for teaching the gospel to the illiterate Joe Sixpack Medieval guy. The film has some lovely shots of the vine scrolls which depict the labors of the months. The larger relief sculptures show Jonah and the whale and David and Goliath. You can also make out the Adam and Eve and the Naming of the Animals.

Here's a link to a beautiful slideshow that shows the lovely color of the stone. The is on my list of places I hope to visit before I die -- I figure I've got another 60 years. That and the 7-Eleven in Providence, RI. Oh, and I also want to attend the same party as Roberto Benigni and travel to India to get my hands hennaed. Am I asking too much?

Addendum to Chihuly Review: I Guess Dale Fights Crime in His Spare Time

Thank Bill, for the link. The Seattle contingent of the Blicky clowder emailed this low-budget defunct local comedy show skit about Chihuly.

Curious George and the Precious Breakable Chihuly Masterpieces

I’ll admit it, when I first thought about visiting the Dale Chihuly show at RISD all I could envision was my two-year-old tearing through the gallery space while I followed, horror-stricken. It played out like one of those Curious George stories where he’s brought about some sort of hideous and expensive devastation and the whole town (conveniently sorted by their job titles) ends up chasing after him. Well, we recently attended a media preview of the show with that question in mind. Is it possible to enjoy these exquisite and highly fragile masterpieces with children in tow? In a nutshell; this is pure magic and none of us within driving distance of Providence, RI should miss this opportunity to enjoy great art.

The first thing that awaits you is the Persian Chandelier. Like most of these works, it was created specifically for the RISD venue. You move beneath a profusion of multihued glass forms illuminated meticulously to allow gentle, colored light to filter onto the wall. An intriguing aspect of his work is how Chihuly succeeds in defying the properties of his medium. The liveliness of the color and form suggests movement and growth, which we usually don’t associate with glass. Also, the scale of the installation merges the art with the viewer’s physical space.

Chihuly’s drawings form a grid across the next wall. As with the glass objects, the artist uses heat, color and a bit of serendipity to create these lively compositions. They seem almost to have formed themselves. He uses paintbrushes, brooms and squirt bottles to apply the paint and there is an amazing sense of joy and vigorous energy to them. I might ask my girls how they think the artist feels as he’s making these works. I know they’ll be thrilled to learn that his shoes are covered with paint.

Beyond the drawings to your left is the Mille Fiori installation. The gallery is built in a circular form around a garden of swirling and rounded shapes. The darker palette lends a quieter, meditative feeling to the work. Chihuly often says that he’s never met a color he doesn’t like, and each one of the installations at RISD invokes a slightly different mood as a result of this variety. I’m curious to hear how my kids might respond to each color palette and how they choose to describe them.

The glowing lavender spires emerging from birch tree trunks in Chihuly’s Neodymium Reeds, 2008 calls to mind the old growth forests of the Pacific Northwest. The installation is informed by our complex and varied American landscape tradition and it pushes the boundaries of that genre. Neodymium Reeds, with its formal, balanced composition expresses a reverential feeling of arcadia and creates a playful dialogue with many of the older, more traditional pieces in the RISD Museum’s collection such as a Thomas Cole or Martin Heade. A fun activity might be to ask kids to compare it with one of the Museum’s 18^th- or 19^th-century landscapes.

The last images in the show are three large-scale baskets -- again masterfully illuminated and displayed on dark steel slabs. Inspired by Northwest Coast Indian baskets, these works are astounding technical achievements. The final shape really allows us to envision the way they were created; changing and bending as they responded to the heat of the furnace and the centrifugal force manipulated by the artist. The result is a wonderfully organic and vibrant tour de force of glass and light. They show Chihuly’s unique willingness to allow his pieces to create themselves.

The Rhode Island School of Design will present the Grand Opening of the new Chace Center on Saturday, Semptember 27. There will be a free day of activities for the public from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Click here for a schedule of events.

So here are my tips for bringing kids:

• After Saturday, the show requires advance purchase of tickets. Here’s the link. 
• Take the time to prepare little monkeys that they are about to see something very special and that it will fun to look together.
• Hold hands with little ones at all times.
• The space is laid out beautifully, so that there are no surprises -- no towering glass columns around a corner that you can’t see ahead of time.
• Contemporary art is a wonderful treat for young ones and it enriches your own enjoyment of the experience. Ask a lot of questions and follow-up questions.
• Get down to their eye level when it’s comfortable for you. If they feel engaged and acknowledged they will wonderful participants in the experience.
• Cater to their inner Curious George and your own. Do they like science? You can talk about the way light behaves or how heat changes things. Mythology more your thing? They could learn about Hephaestus or Vulcan.
• Don’t expect too much of little monkeys. Unless children are older, it’s usually easiest to keep museum visits short and frequent. It ensures their full attention, plus it gives them time to process what they’ve seen. There is a wealth of other exhibits to come back and enjoy.

Photo credits:

Dale Chihuly, Persian Chandelier, 2008, Chihuly at RISD, Providence, RI, Photography by Erik Gould

Dale Chihuly, Chihuly Drawings, 2008, Chihuly at RISD, Providence, RI, Photography by Erik Gould

Dale Chihuly, Mille Fiori, 2008, 7 x 231/2 x 81/2, Chihuly at RISD, Providence, RI, Photography by Erik Gould

Dale Chihuly, Neodymium Reeds, 2008, Chihuly at RISD, Providence, RI, Photography by Erik Gould

A Good Meal With Umberto Eco...

The difference between reading popular fiction and a really well crafted novel is like being accustomed to eating dry pasta with a jarred sauce --maybe even a really good, organic jarred sauce-- and someone serves you homemade gnocchi with a good authentic bolognese and sprinkles fresh parmigiano over the top. Then they light a candle and offer you a nice wine from the Gallo Nero region. The latter option is a lot of work for one meal. It takes a lot of energy, so maybe you have to pay a lot at a restaurant or do all the work yourself. 

I feel the same way when I read Umberto Eco. I never relax when I read his work. He doesn't create images that wash over me. There are so many subtle flavors and sensations in his work that you almost emerge feeling nourished in some way. Like many other great contemporary writers, his prose style invokes the visual arts and the ephemeral rhythms of music.

When I started reading the Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana it felt like work. The protagonist, Yambo, a 60-year-old rare book dealer from Milan, wakes up in a hospital with no memory of his life. All he can remember are phrases from everything he has read or songs he has heard and he must sift through old journals and books in his boyhood home in order to reconstruct his life. I thought I was in for a frustrating story about memory loss. What I am gaining instead (I still haven't finished) is an amazing portrait, reconstructed through great literature, popular songs, news reports and comic books, of a generation. The aspect of the book that has been haunting me lately is where he describes the schizophrenic aspect of the boyhood experience he is unearthing. He hears patriotic calls to war in the fascist anthems, while the popular songs played on the radio reassured listeners with optimistic, diverting content.

He described how both he, and his elders were raised in a "cult of horror," being taught to feel patriotic excitement when faced with a landscape filled with blood. Eco quotes encomiums to war from such a huge array of sources that I couldn't help but draw a parallel to what we're teaching our children about war in our culture today. Yeah, that's right, those homemade gnocchi are sometimes really, really heavy, but damn are they good.

OK so here's a link to Hazan's Bolognese from the Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking if you're inspired. I double the amount of freshly ground nutmeg and you can add porcini mushrooms. Have a few hours and want fresh gnocchi?

Anish Kapoor: It Ain't No Fun-House Baby, It's Cool, Cool Jazz

Took the kittens into Boston today to see the exhibition Anish Kapoor: Past, Present, Future at the ICA. The show is in its final weeks (usually when we finally go), but I would recommend it highly to anyone within a three hour drive from Boston. Especially if you haven't had the chance to visit the ICA before, the experience will merit both the gas and the time spent.

I was unfamiliar with Kapoor's work until this year when a cool and brilliant friend mentioned he was one of her favorite artists. Most people in the US are familiar with his large scale public work if they've heard of him.  Kapoor's Cloud Gate in Millenium Park, Chicago has become a travel destination in its own right. The Time Magazine review  of the exhibit seemed to dismiss Cloud Gate as a giant fun-house mirror that turns people into Silly Putty. I think this diminishes the power of Kapoor's work. It was interesting, because the review of the ICA's exhibit was overall very positive, calling it "indispensable."

At the first survey of the gallery space we were struck by the lovely, undulating work entitled S-Curve, from 2006 (click here for the ICA's slideshow of all of the works). There is a playful element to the piece, but it certainly transcends the fun-house mirror. Each viewer merges with the art, transforming it through the act of viewing while the rolling curves transform the shape and perceptions of the viewer. Gradually, we noticed the other sculptures too and how their reflections interacted with each other as we moved through the space. The New York Times review of the exhibition expresses the complexity of Kapoor's work perfectly by describing how "its formal conundrums and surface pleasures open subtly to deeper forms of thought." 

The next object to captivate our attention was Brandy Wine (2007), a convex hemisphere of luminous, elemental crimson. My friend Judy pointed out that the closer you move to the sculpture, the more you feel enveloped by the top. The kittens were delighted to discover that the objects transform our perceptions of sound as well as images by amplifying and sending excited little whispers around the gallery space behind us.

As I stood in the gallery, I was reminded of Florence in 1989 when I went to hear Jazz in a tiny little club on the bank of the Arno river. We sat reverently enjoying the music but there was a group of listeners, musicians by the looks of them, who at certain junctures in the music would laugh and look at each other. Wasn't there even a comedy skit about that, and how it's perplexing for those of us who don't get the joke? After viewing Kapoor's untitled piece from 1998 I actually found myself laughing out loud and I finally felt like (albeit far geekier version) the cool jazz listener. The photo doesn't even begin to convey how the artist challenges our perceptions. I literally felt as though he was teasing us.  

One of the misfortunate consequences of creating large scale public art is that our understanding of artistic merits is affected by the culture it lives within. Cloud Gate is affectionately known as the Bean and in most reviews I read, and it was often dismissed by virtue of its popularity. Perhaps this obscures our understanding of Kapoor's other works as well. This show is no fun-house, baby. This cat thought it was cooool, cool jazz.

Attack of the Giant Baby Heads

I took the kittens up to Boston to see the exhibit of Antonio López García in the MFA's Foster and Rabb Galleries. This is a picture taken by David Ryan at the Boston Globe's blog showing the installation of López's large scale sculptures. The exhibition is ending this Sunday, July 27 so we thought we'd squeeze in a trip.

The MFA show is accompanied by a stunning exhibition of seventeenth-century Spanish painting, El Greco to Velázquez, which uses the reign of Philip III as a common thread. In a bizarre review by Ken Johnson at the New York Times (which seems more a celebration of his own grasp of SAT words, and finely crafted rhapsody than a useful review about art) he writes that realism is the common, if unstated theme of that "saves the show from being merely a hodgepodge of Spanish treasures." Hmmmm, then he uses that as a way to describe his favorites in glorious, well-written detail. At one point he dismisses El Greco's "brushy, spectral paintings of white figures with weirdly elongated limbs." I prefer to think that you can learn more from spending a little time with "not great" El Grecos than you can from focusing on your beautiful sentence structure. I'm sorry. Poor Ken. I'm sure I'm just jealous he gets paid to write about art, but it's also that I don't think criticism has a place in art. There are artistic and intellectual merits in so many things that it's fruitless to try to grade or rank them.

By timing the Antonio López García exhibit with El Greco to Velázquez, the MFA means to situate López within the pantheon of the great Spanish masters. Some writers have described him as the greatest living painter. You really have to get up close to appreciate his amazing technical mastery. Here's a good source of images. His work is so complex! In some sections it's so photorealistic I had to check to see if photography or collage was listed as medium, and in some sections you can see a very confident, painterly style of brushwork. He is known for depicting mundane subjects, like people eating dinner, a half eaten plate of food and a bathroom sink with incredible, formal lyricism. That is not unique in the art world, of course, but what sets López apart from so many of his contemporaries is the lack of irony he brings to his subjects. One gets the feeling that he's earnestly searching for beauty in our everyday surroundings. A friend pointed out that because of this he makes us see the mundane trappings of daily life in a new light.

If you miss the Spanish Masters show in Boston --as we almost did-- it will travel to the Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University, Durham, NC in August. López's Baby Heads as we called them, or Night and Day are part permanent collection at the MFA and adorn the front lawn.

Meanwhile in Fifteenth-Century Italy...Part 1

The Marchese Borso d'Este left Ferrara on March 13, 1471 with a magnificent itinerant court for the specific purpose of receiving from Pope Paul II his investiture as the first duke of Ferrara..  Accompanying him on his trip to Rome was a splendid entourage consisting of his principle vassals, the Signori di Carpi, Correggio, Mirandola, and Scandiano, and five hundred additional gentlemen dressed in luminous gold and silver brocade.  Next came the Camerieri arrayed in golden cloth and the squires in silver brocade.  Fifty mules followed the entourage covered with crimson velvet with the coat of arms of the Marchese respendent in the warm spring sunshine.  Another one hundred mules followed, their necks adorned with gold fringes, and tassels and delicate silver bells ringing gently as they swayed along.  They were regaled in embroidered cloths of white, red and green (the colors of the Este livery), which bore the coats of arms of various vassals.  An assemblage of one hundred footmen brought up the rear of the traveling court.[1] (and according to some contemporary accounts the words “mission accomplished” were embroidered on the 15^th century aircraft carrier)

Lodovico Antonio Muratori writes of the effect this had of the people of Rome; "The entry of Borso into Rome, for its singular magnificence, filled with wonder the same populace of Rome, which was accustomed to great spectacles.”[2] On April 14, 1471, Paul II declared Borso the first Duke of Ferrara, presenting him with a cloak of gold brocade and a ducal beret.  He also presented Borso with a staff and a golden necklace of precious gemstones.  The investiture itself constituted quite an opulent display. Borso’s entire visit to Rome was comprised of a carefully orchestrated series of ceremonial events where Borso could express his political solidarity with the Pope and his piety through the self-conscious performance of ritual. 

He carried with him on his journey a portable library, which had been commissioned especially for this triumphant occasion.  His traveling collection consisted of an elaborately illuminated breviary which had been presented to Borso by the Bishop of Adria, a copy of the Book of Sidrach, an unnamed Italian book, a copy of the Legends of the Saints in French,[3] a missal which the Marchese intended to present to the Cardinal of Spoleto, and a sumptuous two-volume bible, known as the Bibbia di Borso.  This Bible was one of the most lavishly embellished manuscripts ever produced and it had taken an entire workshop of illuminators six years to complete. The Bibbia measured 375 by 265 millimeters (around 15 by 10 inches) and contained 604 parchment folios.  The manuscript was originally bound in gold brocade and adorned with gilded silver clasps, cornices and medallions, but was rebound during the sixteenth century.[4]  Such a collection of manuscripts would have amounted to a splendid display.  The Marchese ordered them all recovered or rebound for the journey.[5] Why did Borso a book, customarily placed in the service of private contemplation, delectation and learning as a tool for his public project of self-fashioning? Let’s look at the Bibbia with this question in mind.

The Bibbia di Borso can be understood as a public expression of princely magnificence and piety intended to gain favor with the Pope.  It also served as a reflection of the magnificence of his court as a whole.  The complex relationship between Borso as patron, this bible, and the courtly space of the library can be elucidated by the illuminations within the Bibbia; particularly the miniature which depicts King Solomon in his court. 

The court of Solomon is portrayed in the elaborately decorated incipit to the Book of Ecclesiastes (Lat. 429, 293r, Figure 1).  Three vertical bands of flowers, spirals and putti dance and twist in an unruly fashion around the written text.  Two putti sit at the bottom of the page, visually integrating the decorative marginalia with the biblical narrative. The illuminated scene shows us a courtly dance set within a Renaissance atrium, flanked by two halls. The classical geometry of the architecture combined with the composition of the figures creates a sense of balance and order; a metaphor for the social order of the court.  Within the central portion of the atrium three lords and three ladies clasp hands and step in a circular motion, the graceful folds of the dresses indicating the counter-clockwise direction of their movement.  Three musicians play on a high range, a lower range and an S-shaped trumpet (Figure 3). With this visual suggestion of sound we might almost imagine the austere, rhythmically vital Renaissance harmony, animating the dance of the illuminated courtiers.

Both the auditory and visual productions taking place in front of the throne are presumably intended for the King.  The two suggestions of sound; the voice of God and the sound of the music depicted in the illuminated scene compete with one another.  The vibrant tension between the voice of God and the sound of courtly delights emphasizes the piety of the king.  Solomon alone bears the responsibility for keeping his kingdom in the grace of God, while the lords and ladies of his circle are free to frolic about and participate in the courtly delights of music and dance.   In this context, we may view the illuminated page as a microcosmic reflection of courtly society during Borso’s reign. Like the Solomon depicted on the incipit to the Book of Ecclesiastes, Borso presided over an opulent court and sought to emphasize his piety through his lavishly decorated Bible. The story is a model in sumptuous patronage leading to divinely sanctioned political power. The construction of the temple led to divine sanction of Solomon’s rule and assurance that all the king’s descendants would become part of a ruling dynasty. The Bibbia as a visual tool through which Borso could reinforce this theme of divine sanction.

[1] Lodovico Antonio Muratori, "L'Apologia di Borso," in Delle Antichità Estensi, (Modena, 1717), Parte Seconda, chapter IX published in Renzo Renzi, Ferrara Storia, Costumi e Tradizioni, v. I, Il Po, la Cattedrale, la Corte dalle Origini al 1598 (Bologna: Edizioni ALFA), 123-124.

[2] Ibid., 123. “L'entrata di Borso in Roma per la singolar sua magnificenza empie di maraviglia lo stesso Popolo Romano, avvezzo per altro grandi spettacoli."

[3] Charles Michael Rosenberg. Art in Ferrara during the Reign of Borso d’Este (1450-1471): A Study in Court Patronage (Thesis, University of Michigan, 1974), 147.

[4] Ibid., 137. Payments made to Gregorio Guasparino for binding the Bible are recorded in the Camera Ducale beginning in October, 1461. For a detailed analysis of the dimensions, probarties and content of the manuscript, see Ernesto Milano et al., Biblioteca Estense, Modena (Florence: Nardi, 1987).

[5] Ibid., 147.