November 19, 2013
Kris Kool (1970), by Caza (buy it here), a bit of Peter Max, Alphaville, Barbarella, and a whole lot of other stuff, including of all people, Jean Dominique Ingres!
Here he encounters a Flower Woman for the first time…
And here he learns the secrets of their life cycle, of which he, for an all too brief idyll, will be a part…
I have to think his style, the languid eroticism, the fluid line, owes something to Tiepolo: I saw this drawing at the Morgan a few weeks ago.
Of course, there’s this too. I, The Jury, a Mike Hammer film/novel. Kris Kool is a lot nicer guy than Mike, though.
That’s Peggie Castle about to get plugged. Her legs are featured in 99 River Street to good effect. How would I know about this stuff without the Film Noir Foundation?
May 20, 2010
Mr. Savage, of Swiftly Tilting Planet fame, commented on my recent post about my visit to the Frick Museum. He mentioned the reflection in the mirror in the painting shown here. That got me thinking about how often artists use mirrors in their work, to deepen the meaning, to add interest, or to display their virtuosity. Some favorites here:
A mirror is sort of like an ironic painting – it’s flat, it creates an illusion of a world beyond, except it’s the real world. For centuries, painting was preoccupied with creating that illusionistic realm, behind the flat picture-plane. With perspective, they could make it appear as it appeared to us. The concept had legs – Stendhal famously compared a novel, his anyway, to a mirror being carried along a road, reflecting the life around it. Well, it’s easy to go on, but I’d be repeating myself…
May 18, 2010
I ran up to the Frick Museum for a quick visit today, and of course, I took a long look at one of my favorite paintings. I had never noticed that her gaze seems to meet yours, no matter whether you are standing to the right or the left of the picture. It seems to follow you. That sort of thing probably tickled Ingres.
November 11, 2007
I paid a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art yesterday to see the exhibition of the three restored panels from Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise, on loan from the Baptistry of Florence. While I was there, I visited some old favorites, Ingres’ portrait of Madame de Broglie being preeminent on that list. Two tricksters playing with our heads, these artists.
Standing in front of the noblewoman, listening to the comments of the people passing buy, I hear over and over again, “It looks so real…amazing!” Truly, Ingres was a master of paint. The rendering of the textures of the silk dress and chair are absolutely dazzling, but are they realistic? Does silk ever look quite that voluptuous? We live in an age when photographic imagery saturates our time and space – we know what “realistic” looks like. In his day, Ingres was faced with cameras as competition – some people said that painting could never measure up! He wasn’t phased. He painted as if cameras were both irrelevant and paltry. “You want realism – I’ll give you realism you can’t get from a camera!” So, he draws us in with his technical mastery, his delight in surfaces and color, and he paints a woman whose arms seem to be made of rubber – do they have bones? What’s with that right arm, hand tucked away, the wrist looking like it’s twisted all out of shape? That neck, a bit elongated wouldn’t you say? Is that natural? He gives us the image he wants to create – realism is the least of it.
As for Ghiberti, he lived in a time when the “realistic” representation of space with formal perspective was a thrilling device. Look at the architecture in this image of Issac from the same set of panels.
(click to enlarge)
Notice the grid lines in the floor, receding to infinity like parallel railroad lines – this was exciting stuff six centuries before we became accustomed to virtual reality! In the panel at the top, showing the creation of Adam (left), the creation of Eve (center) , and the expulsion (right) the figures are in various stages of relief to indicate their distance, the architecture is radically distorted – the arch on the right where they are being kicked out of Eden looks like something from an Expressionist nightmare, and the beautiful, classical maiden, like Botticelli’s Venus, rises weightlessly from Adam’s side, drawn out by God the Father.