Showing posts with label drawing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drawing. Show all posts

Friday, February 4, 2011

MOVING SENDAK’S WALL


Maurice Sendak painted this mural in the New York apartment of his friends the Chertoffs. The family donated the mural (and plaster) to the Rosenbach Museum and Library in Philadelphia; through April, the public can watch repairs in progress.

Maurice Sendak has almost never applied his signature toothy creatures to walls, but in 1961 he gave a mural to friends, Lionel and Roslyn Chertoff, on Central Park West in New York. In their apartment, he spent months filling a bedroom wall with costumed children leading birds and circus animals. He inscribed the names of the Chertoffs’ children, Larry and Nina, on a parasol wound around a lion’s tail.

Three years ago the family donated the mural to the Rosenbach Museum and Library in Philadelphia, which owns about 10,000 of Mr. Sendak’s works. The Chertoff painting, still attached to 1,000 pounds of Manhattan plaster, has been mounted on an aluminum-reinforced wall at the museum’s Sendak gallery.

Through April, the public can watch repairs in progress for two hours on Wednesdays (about 1 to 2 p.m. and 6 to 7 p.m.). Milner & Carr Conservation will patch cracks, remove patches of whitewash and fill in lost details. Mr. Sendak is scheduled to complete the work.

“We’re hoping there’s some tiny little thing that he’ll add a flourish to, maybe one little blade of missing grass,” said Catherine L. Myers, a senior conservator at Milner & Carr.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Celebration and Feasting: Pieter Bruegel, the Elder Pieter van der Heyden


The Festival of Fools, after 1570,Pieter Bruegel, the Elder Pieter van der Heyden Sheet: 32.5 x 43.7 cm (12 13/16 x 17 3/16 in.) Engraving, Classification: Prints Museum of Fine Arts, Boston


The Fat Kitchen,1563 Pieter Bruegel, the Elder Pieter van der Heyden Hieronymus Cock Platemark: 22.3 x 29.2 cm (8 3/4 x 11 1/2 in.) Sheet: 22.8 x 30 cm (9 x 11 13/16 in.), Engraving, Classification: Prints, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

Pieter Bruegel made only one autograph print; yet, printmaking was pivotal in his career, and he remains one of the central figures in the history of printmaking. Equally ironic is the scant knowledge we have of the life of this towering figure in Northern European art: the date and place of his birth, the nature of his artistic training, and his religious and political beliefs all remain unknown. Nonetheless, his reputation is secured by highly original paintings, drawings, and prints treating subjects ranging across landscape, allegory, biblical history, and peasant life--often conflating such genres. One of Bruegel's most raucous designs, "The Festival of Fools" combines allegory with images of rural life, casting fools in the roles of both peasants and aristocrats at play. They dance and bowl, fight and make music. They assume the parts of pilgrims, acrobats, and peddlers. Despite their raucous behavior, there are neither kegs of ale nor vats of wine: their foolishness comes from within. A long inscription accompanying the image includes telling passages, "…Numbskulls are found in all nations, / Even if they do not wear a fool's cap on their heads….Yet there are numbskulls who behave themselves wisely, / And understand the true sense of numbskulling / Because they [who] have found folly in themselves / Shall best hit the pin with their numbskulls." These are echoes Erasmus's celebrated satire "Praise of Folly" (1509) which taught the importance of recognizing and embracing human foolishness in order to overcome one's own failings. The lack of a dominant focal point in Bruegel's image may serve to underscore the universality of foolishness. Bruegel's activity as a print designer began in 1554 and lasted the rest of his life. He worked primarily with Antwerp publisher Hieronymus Cock, the most important purveyor of printed images in Northern Europe. Relying on a stable of skillful engravers, including Pieter van der Heyden, Cock and Bruegel produced 64 engravings of consistently high quality. After Bruegel's death in 1569 and Cock's in 1570, the latter's widow continued to publish Bruegel's designs under the imprint "Aux Quatre Vents" (To the Four Winds), a proclamation of her ability send visual message to all corners of the world. "The Festival of Fools" emerged from this last phase. It appears that the widow Cock sought to capitalize on a large drawing left behind by Bruegel. "The Festival of Fools" stands out among Bruegel's prints in that extensive changes were made to the image during the process of engraving: additional shading, additional plants, and elaborate decoration of the cupola of the theater-like structure. The present proof impression precedes these many changes and is one of only two known to survive from this early printing. The subsequent adjustments to the image raise the possibility that Van der Heyden was contending with problems posed by a drawing left incomplete at Bruegel's death.


Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Spanish Manner: Drawings from Ribera to Goya October 5, 2010, through January 9, 2011

This exhibition is the first dedicated to the tradition of Spanish draftsmanship to be held in New York, which is second only to Madrid in the extent and quality of its collections of Spanish master drawings. The show begins with a large ensemble encompassing both preliminary sketches and finished studies that were made in important centers of artistic activity in seventeenth-century Spain, including Seville, Madrid, and Spanish-ruled Naples. Groups of works by Golden Age masters Jusepe de Ribera (1591–1652) and Bartolomé Esteban Murillo (1617–1682) reveal the development of their distinctive drawing styles and their deft handling of different media over time. Key examples by their contemporaries Vicente Carducho (c. 1576–1638) and Juan Carreño de Miranda (1614–1685) represent the breadth of accomplishment among Spanish draftsmen in preparing commissioned works or studies for their own use. Two eighteenth-century works by the court artists Mariano Salvador Maella (1739–1819) and Francisco Bayeu (1734–1795) highlight their drawing practice, emphasizing the use of colored papers and contrasting white chalk, techniques also used by other celebrated practitioners of European neoclassicism.

The final section of the exhibition centers on twenty-two sheets by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828), whose drawings are rarely presented in the context of his Spanish predecessors. Nearly all the works by Goya shown formed part of the eight cycles of drawings made between the late eighteenth century and his death, which have been described as “albums.” For the artist, these remarkable records of things seen, remembered, and imagined served as an expressive end in themselves. They also attest to the continuity of Goya’s thematic interests with those of his Spanish forebears and represent the culmination in the nineteenth century of a distinctly Spanish mode of draftsmanship.


Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Self-Portrait
c. 1798
Chalk over traces of pencil
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Bequest of Walter C. Baker, 1971
CAT. NO. 33

Only a few years after the illness that left him deaf, Francisco de Goya portrayed himself in the fashionable garb and sideburns of a late eighteenth-century gentleman. This drawing is the preliminary design for the etching that served as the frontispiece of Goya’s Caprichos, his series of eighty aquatint etchings published in 1799. As a preparatory work, the sheet provides an intimate glimpse of the artist’s working process in red chalk.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
A Fight (Album B. 15)
1796–97
Brush and ink with wash
The Hispanic Society of America, New York
CAT. NO. 34

This extraordinary scene depicts a majo, the fashionably dressed man reclining in front, watching two women (or perhaps a man and a woman) brawl on the floor. The delicacy and control of Goya’s brushwork almost offset the violence of the scene, in which one person raises a shoe to hit the other, who grabs the first person’s hair. They are sprawled on the ground, their garments raised and legs intertwined, to the apparent amusement of the majo.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Fatal desgracia. Toda la casa es un clamor, p.r q.e no à óbrado la Perrica en todo el dia (What a Disaster! The Whole House Is in an Uproar Because the Poor Little Dog [Bitch] Hasn’t Done Her Duty All Day) (Album B. 91)
1796–97
Brush and ink
Collection Michael and Judy Steinhardt, New York
CAT. NO. 35 (recto)

Figures cry, pray, and count rosary beads, distraught by the situation described in Goya’s caption. The double-entendre of the word “Perrica” (little dog, or bitch) suggests that their concern is not the animal but the seated woman in tears — a prostitute with no customers. The dog instead seems to play the role of narrator as she is the only character who engages the viewer.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Borricos de Mascara. Estan muy contentos, de q.e p.r los bestidos, pasan por hombres grandes (Masquerading Asses. They Are Pleased That Because of Their Clothing They Are Taken for Grandees) (Album B. 92)
1796–97
Brush and ink, retouched with pen and ink
Collection Michael and Judy Steinhardt, New York
CAT. NO. 35 (verso)

Goya identifies as “masquerading asses” both the frocked donkeys and the obsequious young man who is fooled by their attire, but whose own finery may be considered equally superficial and meaningless. When Goya returned to the drawing to inscribe his caption, he took his pen to the image and strengthened, with warm brown in, the lines of the man’s hair and costume and the donkeys’ ears and faces.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Tuti li mundi (Peepshow) (Album C. 71)
1808–14
Pen, brush and ink with wash and crayon or chalk
The Hispanic Society of America, New York
CAT. NO. 36

While a man enjoys the view offered by a tuti li mundi — a term (literally meaning “all the world”) for the kind of peepshow box pictured here — a woman delights in a glimpse of his backside, actively peering into the tear in his pants. The irony implied is that the box offers something equally lowbrow, absurd, or satiric, despite its claim to offer the worldly and fantastic.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Tiene prisa de e[s]capar (She’s in a Hurry to Escape) (Album C. 128)
1808–14
Brush and ink with wash
The Hispanic Society of America, New York
CAT. NO. 37

Goya’s caption reinforces the worried look of this young nun seen removing her habit. This scene of “unfrocking,” symbolic of leaving a religious order, may be a response to the secularization law that forced monks and nuns out of monasteries and convents during the Napoleonic era. Inventive touches — such as the fallen cloak that doubles as the figure’s shadow — temper Goya’s often strident anticlericalism.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
A Nude Woman Seated beside a Brook
(Album F. 32)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 38

Nudes are rare in Goya’s work, as are drawings in which landscape figures prominently. The artist took a painterly approach to the setting, covering most of the paper with ink and allowing the exposed areas — the woman’s bare flesh and the light shining through the trees — to gleam in contrast. The onlooker in the background suggests that the drawing could represent the biblical story of Susanna and the Elders.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Crowd in a Circle (Album F. 42)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 39

This drawing almost defies description. While the circular composition perhaps relates to a dance, the large number of figures and the open circle of white space in the background suggest another activity, perhaps one far less pleasant than dancing. Figures in the right foreground appear to be engaged in an argument.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Repentance (Album F. 47)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink with wash
Gregory Callimanopulos
CAT. NO. 40

An emaciated male penitent prays with clasped hands in front of a makeshift cross. His gaping mouth and lost gaze suggest a state of either ecstatic rapture or vacant drowsiness. A rationalist with liberal sympathies, Goya satirized his contemporaries’ religious fanaticism in mordant drawings and etchings that depict the exaggerated behaviors of the overly devout. A few brushstrokes and effective washes suggest the play of light on the rocky surroundings, probably the entry to a hermit’s cave.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Three Men Digging (Album F. 51)
1812–20
Brush and wash
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 41

This vigorous drawing has long been considered a preliminary sketch for The Frick Collection’s painting The Forge (on view in the East Gallery on the main floor). The subtle changes that took place between this triad of figures and their counterparts in The Forge show the malleability and economy of Goya’s pictorial thinking. Scenes from life and imagination filled his albums and supplied him with an endless source of material that could be reworked to new ends.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Torture of a Man (Album F. 56)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink
The Hispanic Society of America, New York
CAT. NO. 42

Goya sketched scenes of violence and torture throughout his career. Here, a man with his wrists tied behind his back is being interrogated with the help of the strappado, a device that causes a painful dislocation of the shoulders and elbows. By concealing the faces of the two men operating the crank, Goya invites the viewer to concentrate on the drama of the man kicking in midair, whose gracefulness belies the horror of the scene.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
A Man Drinking from a Wineskin (Album F. 63)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink, with scraping
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 43

The focus on the kneeling figure in the center of the sheet, and his isolation in space without context emphasize the loneliness of the endeavor. The large wineskin, the man’s top hat, and his shadow are all reinforced with saturated brushstrokes of darker ink. Delicate strokes made with the point of a brush define the crumpled cloth where he kneels.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
A Nun Frightened by a Ghost (Album F. 65)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink with wash
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 44

In this ingenious portrayal of a nightmare apparition, Goya used the wet point of his brush to depict the phantom in transparent wash. The nun in the foreground, confronting the apparition with her hand raised, has been reinforced in darker wash. A saturated brush full of ink created the rich, dark contrast of her veil and the shadow under her hand.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Beggar Holding a Stick in His Left Hand
(Album F. 70)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 45

Goya’s depictions of poverty are unflinching. Here, an aged beggar fixes the viewer in his gaze while extending his hat to receive alms. The shadows cast by the man and his cane define the scene’s space and increase its sense of stark isolation. This particular type of representation may have been inspired by etchings of solitary paupers by Rembrandt, an artist Goya greatly admired.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Peasant Carrying a Woman (Album F. 72)
1814–20
Brush and ink with wash
The Hispanic Society of America, New York
CAT. NO. 46

Goya’s ability to capture with split-second timing images of figures engaged in vigorous activity is matched here by his succinct execution. The dynamism of the scene comes across immediately, but the meaning remains obscure: is he assisting or abducting her? Goya repeatedly focused on the effect of gravity on the body. In such scenes as this one, figures support each other and the weight of the body is apparent.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Two Prisoners in Irons (Album F. 80)
c. 1812–20
Brush and ink
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 47

Two prisoners, chained to a wall and shackled, occupy the foreground of this sheet conceived in light shadow. Daylight enters from the upper right corner, where bars form a grid over the window, and highlights the back of the adult figure. The adult prisoner bends toward the figure of the similarly chained child, casting a pool of shadow on the floor.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
The Anglers (Album F. a)
1814–20
Brush and wash
The Frick Collection, New York
CAT. NO. 48

Goya covered the writing on the top of this used piece of paper with layers of wash. The resulting shape appears to have suggested a grotto with figures fishing. In contrast to the large wash areas, he defines with the greatest precision the features of a face, the details of a costume, and even the fishing line with the tip of his brush, while leaving the fish itself a mere blot.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
No llenas tanto la cesta (Don’t Fill the Basket So Full) (Album E. 8)
c. 1814–20
Brush and ink with wash, with scraping
Private collection, New York
CAT. NO. 49

An old woman huddles over her basket of eggs in the lower third of the sheet in this brush and ink wash from the “Black Border” Album. Goya’s caption cautions against filling the basket too full, an admonition or advice to the woman, who appears self-contained, clutching the handle of her basket. The meaning of the eggs, usually a sign of promise and fertility, is ambiguous here.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Mal tiempo pasas (You Are Having a Bad Time) (Album E. 26)
c. 1816–20
Brush and wash
The Morgan Library & Museum, New York, Thaw Collection, gift in honor of the 75th anniversary of the Morgan Library and the 50th anniversary of the Association of Fellows. (1999.23)
CAT. NO. 50

Goya’s shepherd appears ragged and bent, while his sheep rests. Christ told the parable of the Good Shepherd, saying: “I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep” (John 10:11).



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Pobre e gnuda bai filosofia (Poor and Bare Goes Philosophy) (Album E. 28)
c. 1816–17
Brush and ink with wash
Collection Michael and Judy Steinhardt, New York
CAT. NO. 51

Does this peasant woman gaze upward in bewilderment or in comprehension of the words she has just read? Although Goya’s caption (a quote from Petrarch, in faulty Italian) could be ironic, the gleaming light that illuminates the figure’s face — conveyed through the contrast of the exposed white paper and the dark ink — suggests that this is a scene of true personal enlightenment, which can be experienced by all.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Regozijo (Mirth) (Album D. 4)
c. 1816–20
Brush and ink with wash and chalk
The Hispanic Society of America, New York
CAT. NO. 52

Liberated from gravity and the limitations of their aging bodies, two floating figures exchange a touching look of shared delight. The woman’s billowing skirt, rendered with bold dabs of ink wash, conveys the speed of their magical ascension. Goya’s numerous depictions of airborne figures are roughly contemporary with experiments with hotair balloons and parachutes in Europe, though here he includes no such device. This couple’s levity is pure fantasy. Fittingly, the man plays castanets, a symbol of happiness or mirth.



Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
De esto nada se sabe (Nothing Is Known of This) (Album D. 7)
c. 1816–20
Brush and ink, with scraping
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1935
CAT. NO. 53

The caption of this drawing suggests that there is a mystery inherent in the scene. The two figures in the front appear to bend over a bundle of sorts. Behind them, a singing or speaking figure emerges from the arched doorway of a church, holding a piece of paper with writing. There is an ominous tone, conveyed by the gaping mouths and dark ink shadows.





Francisco de Goya y Lucientes (1746–1828)
Amaneció asi, mutilado, en Zaragoza, a principios de 1700 (He Appeared Like This, Mutilated, in Zaragoza, Early in 1700),
(Album G. 16)
1824–28
Crayon
Dian Woodner Collection, New York
CAT. NO. 54

Goya’s narrative caption recalls a horrible mutilation that took place in his home town years before his birth. Heavy strokes of black crayon at the bottom of the bundle suggest blood pooled inside the fabric, around the man’s protruding legs. This is one of several drawings Goya made to comment on grisly historical events he had heard of but not witnessed.


The exhibition is organized by Jonathan Brown, Carroll and Milton Petrie Professor of Fine Arts, Institute of Fine Arts, New York University; Lisa A. Banner, independent scholar; and Susan Grace Galassi, Senior Curator at The Frick Collection.

The exhibition is made possible, in part, by the David L. Klein Jr. Foundation, Elizabeth and Jean-Marie Eveillard, and the Samuel H. Kress Foundation.

The accompanying catalogue has been generously underwritten by the Center for Spain in America.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Romanian Illustrator Sketchbooks

Ana Botezatu, a Romanian illustrator,
she is at http://www.anabotezatu.com/

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I found these images of some of her sketchbooks on http://www.book-by-its-cover.com