From Reality to Ruins

Gardens in European art of the seventeenth and eighteenth century often held meaning that went deeper than the mere surface. In everyday life, gardens functioned as the heart of where social gatherings and activities were held. In response to them playing such an active role during this era, art depicting the everyday garden and the ideal garden was created. The underlying values and meaning are conveyed in a way that evokes an experience from the viewer of the garden depicted. During the seventeenth century, gardens in art were portrayed as having more geometric shapes than during the eighteenth century and gradually developed towards something more “natural.” During this time, a movement of artists developed that began incorporating Roman architecture into landscapes while still including pieces that imply a garden scene, such as a well tended potted plant. This gave their paintings a feeling of pre-romanticism and fantasy. The impression of grandeur that came along with exotic paintings came from the mental link people created between foreign items and the technological, scientific advancements that came along with them. The Bathing Pool by Hubert Robert displays how incorporating contrasting elements, such as a rugged, an architectural ruin resting on underdeveloped terrain and objects that create a tended to, cared for garden feel, give the painting a timeless, otherworldly feel. It’s characteristics like these that some of the garden paintings in Europe began to pick up and that transformed the ideal garden in European art. Many viewers aren’t aware of how gardens have changed and the link that these gardens have to the culture of their time. 

The Bathing Pool

Hubert Robert (French, Paris 1733–1808 Paris)

Medium: Oil on canvas

Accession Number: 17.190.29

The subtle details created through contrast and the composition in The Bathing Pool leave the viewer with feelings of curiosity and intrigue. The placement and angles of the trees lead the viewer’s eyes through the painting and draw them back in towards the temple-like architectural structure. There are two women swimming in the water and another next to a woman drying off on the steps who appears to be a maid of some sort. The statues on either side of the temple give the painting a feeling of symmetry. The area has a unique feel to it because it doesn’t appear to be taken care of. The trees are overgrown which leads to a neglected feeling. This is a sharp contrast to the flowers in the pots, which seem to be lovingly tended to. This indicates that it could be a private garden, yet the round structure itself has the appearance of being neglected and in ruins. The painting lends a feeling to pre-romanticism. 

Pastoral Landscape: The Roman Campagna

Claude Lorrain (Claude Gellée) 

(French, Chamagne 1604/5–1682 Rome)

Date: ca. 1639

Medium: Oil on canvas

Accession Number: 65.181.12

The intensity of the lighting in this painting gives it a mysterious atmosphere, despite it also evoking calm feelings. The cows in the foreground make the painting feel rural, while the architectural structure to the left gives it the feeling that it is closer to civilization than one would initially think. The blending of architecture into landscapes creates a calming atmosphere. It incorporates a career people at the time would have had in a way that involves more than just the herd and the man watching over them. It elevates the job, in that, it creates an environment that would be more enjoyable than people would have thought possible. It shows the ability art has to make things seem different than reality. 

View in a Park

Alexandre Hyacinthe Dunouy 

(French, Paris 1757–1841 Jouy-en-Josas)

Medium: Oil on paper, laid down on ledger paper

Accession Number: 2003.42.26

This serene landscape of a French park depicts a building and trees in the distance. This less formal park displays the development towards the more “natural” garden style park.  It is pulling away from the geometrical and working towards a less “man-made” and mathematically idealized feeling. It displays the concept of roaming space that is able to be used for. This development of the idea of a park is typically thought of as a public garden, for which anyone can use, except that this can be interpreted as a more private park. The building lends to the idea that the park is private because its appearance is small and doesn’t seem to be for crowds of the public. 

Landscape Capriccio with Tomb of the Horatii and Curiatii, and the Villa of Maecenas at Tivoli

Artist: Richard Wilson

Completion Date: 1754

Medium: Oil on Canvas

The National Museum of Western Art Collection Number: P.1998-0005

This portrayal of ruins in a landscape displays a pre-romantic side to eighteenth century painters. The nature gives a sense of peace while the ruins give a feeling that this is less a reality and more a fantasy. Wilson paints his initials on the tomb and the date as a way to make himself a part of his painting. Three men are shown in the foreground that appear to be enjoying themselves. This idea of enjoyment from the outdoors and being at peace with ruins all around plays with the romantic idea of the beauty of nature and the surreal experience that comes with it. This idea begins to be incorporated with the gardens as it becomes more prominent.

View in the Gardens of the Villa d'Este

Léon Pallière 

(French, Bordeaux 1787–1820 Bordeaux)

Date: ca. 1814–17

Medium: Oil on paper, laid down on canvas

Accession Number: 2003.42.44

This painting depicts a geometrically designed garden during the late 18th, early 19th century in France. The use of linear perspective emphasizes and makes believable the building structure and how it is involved with the border of the pond in the foreground. It depicts gardens that were constructed mathematically and incorporated architecture into the background. This idea of a garden was altered as the cultural ideas of the time changed and grew towards including Roman architecture style in the garden since it gave it a more grandeur feel. 

Falls of the Aniene at Tivoli

Charles Louis Clerisseau

Date: 1769

Medium: Gouache

Victoria and Albert Museum

The waterfalls surrounded by a city inspired by Roman ruins displays Clerisseau’s knowledge architecture and landscapes while he effectively incorporates them together into a painting. He includes ruins from his imagination and reality. The incorporation of a settlement in this painting makes it feel more like settlement than ruins. The three figures in the corner are interacting with the surrounding nature and almost coming off the picture plane towards the viewer, and in some ways forms a border around the painting. In some ways the architecture, being less detailed as Roman architecture is typically thought of, pulls away from the illusion that this could be a fantasy. 

Locks of Lust

Each of the women featured in this exhibit share the commonality of their red colored hair.  As you encounter each of the artworks you will be introduced to the idea that, before the Late 1400s,  it was not acceptable to paint female nudes without a religious purpose.  That all changed when The Birth of Venus caused people to accept the nudity of women in a purely mythological or foreign setting.  Various artists referred to Venus and her sexual nature when they painted women with red hair which includes Rossetti, Waterhouse, Dicksee, and Degas.  This connection charges the red hair with a supernatural power to lure the affection of men and is also the source of destruction and power.  Each of the women are available to be observed and lusted after.  The exhibit leads you finally to Degas’s Woman Combing Her Hair.  This final transition brings the red hair and beautiful body form to depict an everyday dancer.  The mythological excuse has been ignored to paint a modern woman.  Dancers were near the status of prostitutes which would mean they were often sexually available.  This objectifies the woman by implying her purpose is to be observed, much like Venus was, for her alluring quality.  It is uncertain whether her red hair also possesses the power to be man’s vice.  Red hair cannot be overlooked in art history for it tells the story of dangerous femininity.

Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus, 1484-1486, Tempera on canvas, Uffizi Gallery

Botticelli’s painting started a shift from religious paintings to mythological and history paintings. This is one of the first female nudes painted that is not for religious purposes.    Before this point it would have been unheard of to paint female nudes but the label of Venus makes the painting acceptable in Italy at the time. Venus’s hair is used as a partial covering of her nakedness which increases its erotic appeal.  The Birth of Venus ties together Venus’s mythical power to her recognizable appearance.  Venus is the goddess of various genres which includes love, sex, beauty and fertility.  Red hair is included in many female portraits to allude to Venus and her sexual nature. 

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Lady Lilith, 1867, watercolor and gouache on paper, 081621

Lady Lilith is a character from Jewish literature who is said to be Adam’s first wife.  She is the focal point in Rossetti’s painting. The gown she wears is enticingly exposing her shoulder for the viewer to see.  Even she appears to be admiring her own beauty.  According to the stories of Lady Lilith, her hair is said to wrap itself around the necks of young men and then she would never again free them.  Those red locks are truly able to capture the attention of the observer but be wary of the danger. 

John William Waterhouse, A Mermaid, 1900, Oil paint, Royal Academy of Arts

John William Waterhouse paints a scene of a mermaid who sits on the rocks and combs her hair, which is very similar to the scene in Lady Lilith. The mermaid is vulnerable and exposed.  As she looks out at the sea she is free to be observed by the viewer without confrontation. She is aesthetically beautiful but the mythology of mermaids gives reason to not trust her seemingly vulnerable state.  It is in her nature to destroy men with her enchantment.  

Frank Dicksee, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, c. 1901, Oil on canvas, Bristol Museums, Galleries, and Archives

The title of this painting translates to “the beautiful lady without pity.”  This painting is inspired by a ballad written by the English poet John Keats in 1820.  It deals with the supernatural.  The knight in the painting has encountered a beautiful woman with flowing red hair and he proceeds to place her upon his horse and follow her to a cave.  She sings him to sleep and he has nightmares of the other men that have been enslaved by an alluring and wicked woman.  When he wakes up he has been abandoned in the cold and left to die.  It is in her nature to attract men with her beauty and destroy them. The red hair was a warning, women are not only beautiful but they are powerful and nearly impossible to understand. 

Edgar Degas, Woman Combing Her Hair, c. 1888-90, Pastel on light green wove paper, now discolored to warm gray, affixed to original pulpboard mount, 56.231

Degas painted hundreds of nude dancers as naturally and honestly as possible.  He was interested in showing the lives of the dancers off stage when they are not put together perfectly, like they appear to be during the performance.  The paintings of nude dancers received harsh criticism because Degas portrays nude women that do not fall into the categories of mythological or religious characters.  This woman is turned around so the viewer is free to observe her as she combs her beautiful hair, which draws attention to her femininity.  The female figure no longer requires the guise of the title of “Venus” or “Mary” to make her nudity acceptable.

Connecting with the past through humor: Selected works of Lilly Marten Spencer

The world of the nineteenth century seems far removed from our own. Twenty four hour news cycles, cell phones, car and plane travel all would seem to distance us from the everyday life of the nineteenth century family. Yet here is where art can travel the distance of time and experience and give us something to relate to those who have come before us. 

Lilly Marten Spencer (1822-1902) was the most prolific female genre artist of the nineteenth century. Her works were mainly composed of idyllic domestic scenes.  It is this portrayal of domestic life along with a kind of playful humor that she infused into her work that set her apart from many of her contemporaries. It is particularly her somewhat wry humor and the honesty in which she portrayed the urban domestic life that cause her work to be relatable even to this day.

Whether it’s the awkwardness of early marriage, the chore of the mundane, or the fleeting nature of beauty, Spencer evokes emotions we all can relate to. In this, even we in the modern world can find that those in the past are very much like ourselves and that the important things in life rarely change.

·      Lilly Marten Spencer, Young Husband: First Marketing 1854 Hunter Museum

In this small window into urban life in the mid nineteenth century Lilly Marten Spencer both plays against the viewers expectations and the expectations of the society at the time. At first the viewer is drawn to see the main subject as an unfortunate character suffering a near catastrophe. This man’s ignominy is emphasized by the fact that he is wetting himself from the skein under his right arm. However, with the title the main subject changes from being tragic to being incompetent. Spencer even somewhat “shares” the joke with the viewer with the second main subject looking past the unfortunate man to the viewer. This work in particular was not well received in Spencer’s day. In particular a woman portraying a man in a humorous way was seen as unseemly. Yet in the hindsight of history most young husbands (and probably most young wives) would probably empathize with Spencer’s young husband.

·      Lilly Marten Spencer, Young Wife: First Stew 1854 Private Collection (unlocated)

Young Wife: First Stew is the sister piece to Young Husband: First Marketing. Spencer created the two pieces together as a unified thought piece. Here however, the focus shifts and is less humorous and more matter of fact. It is initially unclear as to who the “young wife” is. More than likely she would be the better dressed woman rather than the plainer dressed woman. The second woman’s function within the painting may be to question the idyllic perfection on display on the table. The beauty of the produce, coupled with the beauty of the finer woman’s dress (even her apron seems a little “rich”) appears a little to “neat”. In the modern parlance we might find the left hand side of the piece “Instagram worthy”.  There is even a strategically placed Bible on the table. The second character who is dirtier and plainer seems to beg the question, “Is this real?”

·      Lilly Marten Spencer, Peeling Onions 1852 Memorial Art Gallery

Soulful, red eyed, and plaintive, Spencer paints this woman looking directly at the viewer. The viewer is drawn into her plight and initially is filled with sympathy. That is until one looks at the cutting board. There we see that she is in the middle of cutting an onion. Spencer’s first hand knowledge of housework helps to portray this woman as being both vulnerable and powerful at the same time. Her tears are the result of a firm grip and strong bare forearms. This piece is a good example of Spencer elevating, humanizing and calling attention to the beauty of the domestic chore. 

·      Lilly Marten Spencer, Shake Hands? 1854 Ohio Historical Society

Spencer offers the viewer a moment of playful interaction within the everyday chores of life. This piece both highlights Lilly Marten Spencer’s insight into the everyday life of a wife and mother and Spencer’s keen humor. Baking for a large family (Spencer had a family of 13) would have been an everyday occurrence for most nineteenth century women. Yet despite this chore, Spencer portrays her subject as cheerful even playful in her work. Even today her offer of a piece of dough is tempting.

·      Lilly Marten Spencer, We Both Must Fade (Mrs. Fithian) 1869 Smithsonian American Art Museum

We Both Must Fade (Mrs. Fithian) is arguably one of Spencer’s most beautiful pieces. It also repeats Spencer’s penchant for using the title of her paintings to either change or direct the narrative of the piece. It also highlights a subtly dark humor. One can easily imagine a middle aged Spencer painting her subject with a knowing irony. The fragile cut rose, already wilting emphasizes the transitory nature of the stunning beauty holding it.

Evolution of the Monet Seascape

Life in Paris in the 1860’s was a time of rapid social transformation all of Europe, France in particular. In the midst of such tumult, a young Monet had grown tired of the stale traditional styles of Salon-prescribed orthodoxy. Like many other European artists who wanted their art to both capture and engage the essence of this new age of modernity, he turned instead to the fresh and foreign techniques he found in contemporary Japanese art. Monet began avidly collecting and studying Japanese ukiyo-e landscape prints (or ‘floating world’ prints) and eventually incorporating their styles into their own work. A study of Monet’s earliest Impressionist works shows his fascination with the novelty of Japanese culture—a trend of the day referred to as 'Japonisme'—to have helped him develop much of the stylistic vocabulary through which he would articulate the first forms of Impressionism. 

The Garden at Sainte-Adresse, Claude Monet, 1867

His Garden at Sainte-Adresse — one of his earliest Impressionist seascapes — shows just how much of an influence ukiyo-e landscape print style had on his work. By comparing the style and composition of this piece with elements of several of his later seascapes, we are able to isolate and observe a clear process of development which takes place in Monet’s work over time. Through a time-series comparison of his Impressionist seascapes, the Japonisme inspired flat horizontal bands of bright color, asymmetrical compositions, and contorted and challenging perspectives that dominate his earliest work are found less and less. Instead, we see increasing levels of stylistic independence as time progresses. The slow but sure development of this style which comes to dominate his later works—a style we have come to call Impressionism—then, is both independent of, but also rooted in the radical nature of 19^th Century modernism and the resulting rise of Japonisme influence.

Turban-shell Hall of the Five-Hundred-Rakan 

Temple, Katsushika Hokusai, c. 1830-1835

First, this classic ukiyo-e landscape print gives the most compelling proof that Monet’s Garden at Sainte-Adresse was significantly if not entirely influenced by Japonisme styles. With almost identical viewer vantage-point and compositional format as Monet’s Garden, this print also depicts a group of onlookers —backs to the audience, standing on a railed deck —running flush against the water below, as they overlook a body of water. The similarities with Monet’s Garden continue in its use of brighter colors in the foreground and contrasting darker color palate further back. Hokusai produced this print as part of a series entitled Thirty-six views of Mount Fuji which —much like Monet’s Haystacks (1890-1891) and Water Lilies (1840-1926) series —meticulously catalogs the same seascape capturing it in different lights and seasons.

  

Bathers at La Grenouillère, Claude Monet, 1869

Maintaining at least a roughly similar horizontal banding as his Garden, the dock and sliver of horizon divide create a similar fore, middle, and background sections in a much less dramatic way. Likewise, the bathers create vertical lines remind us of the flag poles that are juxtaposed against the painting’s middle line. However, this piece is noticeable more Impressionist and less Japonisme than the garden. The brushstrokes are flatter and thicker and appear slabbed on top of each other not closely mulled together in the more smooth and flat style as the Garden. There is also a shift in color selection from the Japonisme influenced contrast of the Garden’s bright reds and greens to the well paired cool blues and greens of this piece.

Autumn effect at Argenteuil, Claude Monet, 1873

The use of this piece in the first Impressionist exhibition (1874) by Monet is evidence of his movement away from adoption and imitation of Japonisme and towards independently Impressionist style. While a semi-strong horizon line is still present, little else remains visibly similar between this piece and the Garden seascape. Rather than distinctly horizontal divisions, the strongest lines in this piece are vertical, and are delineated by color making use of the contrast between complementary oranges and blues rather than line. This use of color over line to model forms, along with the clear shift away from what few crisp, naturalistic elements existed in the Garden, and towards a complete gesture based forms makes this seascape a great example of Monet’s progress towards stylistic independence. This piece is far more impressionistic, far more “signature Monet” than The Garden. 

Rocks at low tide, Pourville. Claude Monet, 1882

In Rocks at low tide, Pourville the neat horizontal lines and snapshot feel of the Garden are dashed against the rocks by the painting's  gushing water and incredible sense of motion. Any movement caused by the wind in the otherwise tranquil scene in The Garden is captured, not in the brushstrokes or with the light, but through the passivity of the snapshot depiction: the pulled flag and wind blown dresses. Compared to this passive depiction of motion which is more potential and implied than demonstrated, Monet brings the action of the scape in Rocks at low tide, Pourville to rabid and thunderous life through his rapid curved and overlaid brushstrokes in the water and his depiction of the waves being dashed up against the rocks. Through the choice of primarily white over blue in conjunction with his rhythmic brushstroke style, the water in this piece appears to be about to boil; frothing and churning its way through the crooked maze of rocks. This later seascape has few remaining qualities that associate it with Monet’s approach in The Garden at Sainte-Adresse.

Hush and Swell

The very character of a storm is to climax in a display of the elemental power of nature. But before the storm swells there is a hush and calm. In those moments of hush and swell, where are the people? American painters in the nineteenth century were still borrowing a lot of technique and subject matter from European Romanticism when the Hudson River School was formed out of a group of artists. Their paintings sought naturalism glossed with majesty in an attempt to portray America’s great scenes as something of a divine experience, truly sublime. It is only fitting then that along with addressing landscapes with a perfecting and reverent hand, these painters must find new ways to portray weather and its effects. There is a tension in their work between the presence of human beings and the power of nature that different artists choose to reconcile variously. Are the stormy seascapes, rolling clouds, and darkened skies antagonistic to us? Or is the wild nature of them part of something hungering inside us too? This exhibit seeks to explore American painters coming to terms with whether wild weather is worthwhile to the American spirit. The use of light in relation to atmosphere, source, and emphasis argues in part for each artists’ considering of the presented question. 

The Oxbow, Thomas Cole, 1836, oil on canvas, 08.228

Thomas Cole very nearly draws a line down the center of his painting between the untamed wild and the cultivated domestic civilization. On close inspection his self portrait can be seen at the bottom of the canvas where he stands painting the scene. The lightness of palette chosen for the right side of the painting makes it more inviting and pleasant. Still there is a dynamism to the clouds rolling in, layered with motion, nourishing the hillside so that it becomes a lush green color. In this painting Cole handles both the wild and tame carefully, putting himself in the non committal middle.

Approaching Thunder Storm, Martin Johnson Heade, 1859, oil on canvas, 1975.160

The painting around which this exhibit is organized is an exemplary piece of tension and questioning. A storm is just about to reach the onlooker and his dog seated on the shore. His posture is one of relaxation, watching the storm as though at peace in his current surroundings. He is the troped rustic wanderer, not afraid of the wild wind or waves, but quite possibly intrigued, patient, steady. This is an American man who knows his place in the land, which is beside the bay.

The Coming Storm, Georges Inness, 1879, oil on canvas,
Addison Gallery of American Art, 1928.25

The softness of the brushstrokes in this painting muddy the sky in a way that creates its own atmospheric depth and veil. Yet the subject matter is very similar to Heade’s work. A storm is approaching and the rural citizen is not running in fear, but going about his duties on the land. He represents the American characteristics of being in the land and working hard to cultivate it admired by Hudson River artists. The ground is again illuminated but it is clear the source is the sun breaking through the clouds and it is not a technique of luminism, but a naturalistic portrayal of highlight and shadow. 

Storm In the Mountains, Albert Bierstadt, 1870, oil on canvas,
Boston Museum of Fine Arts, 47.1257

In this storm scene the painter has eliminated human subjects and replaced them with a very intimate perspective for the viewer, suggesting that he has concluded the power of a storm something beautiful enough to share. The same illuminating light as Martin Johnson Heade’s Approaching Thunder Storm is used in the foreground to give the grass a vibrant and electrified hue. There is a similar circular composition to the horizon drawing the eye of the viewer in and out from light to dark, highlight to shadow. 

A Coming Storm, Sanford Gifford, 1863, oil on canvas, Philadelphia Museum of Art, 2004-115-1

Here again the viewer has replaced any human subject and is invited into this landscape. Feel the rocking of the boat as it gently drifts the middle of the water beneath billowing clouds. The streaks of gray rain get closer, and are painted in a similar manner to Heade’s. There remains as in Bierstadt’s painting a circle of distant light behind the storm, because storms are fleeting things. This is a reminder to appreciate the ephemeral moment, the calm before the storm, and to ride out what is coming.

Aurora Borealis, Frederic Church, 1865, oil on canvas,
Smithsonian American Art Museum, 1911.4.1

Frederic Church and Martin Johnson Heade were good friends and influences from their time spent in New York. Their interest in seascapes and atmosphere play off each other well. Church chooses in his painting of the aurora borealis to emphasize its grander and fantastic qualities with the use of colors like teal and red. He places a boat in the water to show the overwhelming scale of the sky they are drifting under. Church chooses to integrate the viewer with the glowing sky being at a vertical perspective and the boat with the reflection of the sky coloring the water. This is a very typical Hudson River School painting in its perfecting and glorifying of nature.

Fishermen at Sea, Joseph Mallord William Turner, 1796, oil on canvas, Tate Britain

To truly identify the American experience of Romanticism and Transcendentalism it is helpful to compare it to European contemporaries. Turner is a British painter whose storm scene is more haunting and dangerous than the others exhibited here. It recalls the tragedy of shipwrecks and crashing waves as Gerricault painted in his Raft of the Medusa and fits into a canon of the sea as a dangerous place. But, the light of the sun breaking through the clouds provides a sense of hopefulness to the viewer pitying the fishermen lurching in their boat. The fishermen’s experience of the storm is much different from the mariners in Heade, Church, or Inness’ paintings. They are in a physical struggle where it seems the place of the others could be considered more philosophical and metaphysical. 

Curated by: Sam Moreland 

 

The Elusive Joan

The Elusive Joan

          The story of Joan of Arc was considered very important to the history of France and to the Roman Catholic Church, and the boldness of the figure herself sparks the imagination of many, making Joan a popular subject for artists. A great deal can be revealed about an artist’s specific interests and values by inspecting the way they approach a subject. Comparing works with similar subjects can be an aid in highlighting these stylistic features among a group of artists. This can be an especially enlightening exploration when, as with Joan of Arc, there is no definitive information about the particular appearance of the subject. Thus, each artist’s portrayal of Joan’s appearance (not only her clothing, but her physical attributes) can also be investigated in answering questions about the purposes and goals of the artist. The following collection focuses on portraiture of Joan, not on depictions of her life. While these images are also referencing the story of Joan, the primary subject is the woman herself. Historically, the legend of Joan has been interpreted and utilized for religious or political reasons. So also, the imagery associated with Joan is often intended to communicate a particular sociocultural value or to evoke a particular response, rather than purely seeking the depiction of a historical narrative.

Peter Paul Rubens, Joan of Arc, c. 1620 (completed by students after his death), oil on canvas, North Carolina Art Museum

Peter Paul Ruben’s Joan of Arc is a highly constructed, dramatized version of Joan. Joan herself appears attractive and elegant, and Rubens selects to show her both in a position of devotion and in full armor. Joan’s long red hair flows freely halfway down her back (according to documents, the historical Joan kept her hair short), and her body is angled slightly ambiguously, in an almost (but not quite) profile position. The space is not depicted with precise rationality. The red curtain behind Joan serves both to foreshorten the space and to create a more intense frame around her face and upper body, and it contrasts to the statue of Christ which frames the left side of the image. In this work, Rubens portrays Joan as elegant, dramatic, honorable, and admirable. He creates a believable fiction, elevating the historical Joan to a mythological position.

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, Joan of Arc on Corronation of Charles VII in the Cathedral of Reims, 1854, oil on canvas, Musée du Louvre

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres moves away from the dramatic and into the rational in his depiction of Joan of Arc. In contrast to Rubens, Ingres uses extremely finished brush-stroke technique and depicts the space in a believable way. Ingres employs the elegant rationality of the image to exalt Joan and to make a nationalist argument. Here, Joan is standing triumphantly, having aided in France’ reclaiming of land from the British. She is now observing and approving of the coronation of a new king, Charles VII. Both the flag imagery and Joan’s posture constitute a familiar language for patriotism (for example, her posture reminds one of the Statue of Liberty). Thus, in this work Joan functions as a symbol rather than as a historical figure. 

Jules Bastien-Lepage, Joan of Arc, 1879, oil on canvas, The Metropolitan Museum of Art (89.21.1)

Jules Bastien-Lepage demonstrates an increased interest in a naturalistic—and perhaps a historically accurate—depiction of Joan. Interestingly, Lepage is also among the few to include a visible spiritual element in the picture: namely, the ghostly figures of the saints in the right side of the background. In this work, Joan is wearing simple peasant clothes, and her hair is tied back rather than long and loose. She is depicted in a highly naturalistic (bordering on photorealistic) manner, suggesting that this Joan is a particular person and not a political or mythological symbol. These details indicate that Lepage is interested in making Joan believable and relevant to the viewer rather than elevating her to a point of inaccessibility.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Joan of Arc, 1882, oil on panel, The Fitzwilliam Museum (Cambridge)

Dante Gabriel Rossetti desires a very strong emotional response from the viewer in his depiction of Joan of Arc. In this work, Joan takes up almost the full space of the picture plane and even emerges out into the viewer’s space. The color palette involves layers of velvety-rich reds and a dramatic lighting that draws attention to her graceful neck, large blue eyes, and full lips. The longer a viewer looks into the eyes of Rossetti’s Joan, the more they might admire her and enter into her emotion. Rossetti is creating a fictional Joan for the purposes of dramatization. Its fictional nature is intended to invite the viewer into an experience rather than elevate the subject.

J. William Fosdick, Adoration of St. Joan of Arc, 1896, fire etched wood relief, The Smithsonian American Art Museum

J. William Fosdick’s Adoration is a departure from naturalism, seeking to create distance between Joan and the viewer. In this woodcut altarpiece, Joan is surrounded by a gold halo and gold rays with worshippers beneath her. She’s wearing rich robes with armor underneath and is levitating, being drawn toward the heavens. Fosdick’s is an emotionally unambiguous depiction. Joan is portrayed as completely separate and above us, and our only response should be to adore her.

Lewis W. Hine, Joan of Arc, 1918-19, photograph (negative: gelatin on glass), George Eastman House

Lewis’ W. Hine’s photo is one of a series of fictitious Joan of Arc negatives, all taken of the same woman in an outdoor setting. The visual effect of this photo becomes reminiscent of Lepage's Joan: the woman appears to be outside among trees, daydreaming with her eyes upward, wearing plain clothing. Taking such a photo series demonstrates, on the part of Hine, an interest in Joan as an individual rather than a symbol. Here, Joan is normalized rather than exalted and distant: she is not only believable because of the medium of photography, but she is also a particular woman. In addition, Hine departs from the wider historical depiction and joins Lepage in showing Joan with peasant-wear and short hair rather than armor and long hair.

Odilon Redon, Joan of Arc, 1900, pastel on paper, Musee d'Orsay

Odilon Redon’s Joan of Arc is, like The Adoration, a departure from naturalism, but here the formal motivation is expressionistic. Redon’s main formal method is his use of soft, blended color and rounded shape. The virulent red communicates drama and tension, the blues and greens an organic motion, and the medium (pastel) adds a lyrical quality. Joan herself is extremely simplified in terms of physical features, emphasizing the non-physical subject of the work. Here, Joan is neither a particular historical figure nor a sociocultural symbol. Rather, Redon explores Joan as a psychological and spiritual being.

by Sarah Geile