Tag Archives: arthistory

Enjoying ‘Les Halles’

leshalles
[Léon Lhermitte ‘Les Halles’  1895 – my photograph]
Léon Lhermitte ‘Les Halles’ from 1895 is an example of a superbly cinematic painting. Painted well after the establishment of photography, it’s an astonishing accomplishment of realism and the drama of everyday life. You can really revel in Lhermitte’s ebullient depiction of the huge Paris fruit and vegetable market (this scene is in the section of  Le Carreau) – which is now replaced by a shopping centre that still bears the name Les Halles.
This painting – which is absolutely vast – 404 x 635 cm – scotches the idea that ‘photography replaced painting’ – because at the time there was no camera available that could replicate such a scene with so much depth and motion.

1895 is also as we all know, the ‘birthdate’ of cinema as we know it, the year the Lumieres made their first screening. yet it would take half a century for the movie camera to capture a scene like this.

What L’Hermitte teaches us, though, is how to to look at the scene. Not just to sieze the camera and film it, but to really look at what is going on, what is doing what and why. What does your eye ‘grab’ onto?
Les halles
[bigger version from Wikipedia]

This picture is at the Petit Palais in Paris, and you need at least 30 minutes just to look at it alone. In its vibrance, detail and combination of realism and imagination, it is really a movie!
petitpalais
[the glorious Petit Palais, where you can spend a wonderful day if you’re so inclined]

As well as Les Halles, L’Hermitte made a number of excellent paintings of working people. His Glaneuses, below, might not be as well known or as atmospheric as Millet’s depiction of the common activity of gleaning, but it has a strength and power of its own.
Lhermitte_-_Les_Glaneurs,_1887
[Glaneuses, Philadelpha Museum of Art, from Wikipedia]

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Looking at a painting through the eyes of a filmmaker

1024px-Antoine-Jean_Gros_-_Bataille_d'Aboukir,_25_juillet_1799_

A visual essay – click to read

podcast version – YouTube audio visual essay

or read the text here:

This painting by Antoine-Jean Gros is in the Palais de Versailles.

Bataille d’Aboukir, 25 Juillet 1799
This is a good example of a ‘cinematic’ painting. Let’s consider the elements of what makes a painting ‘cinematic’
Let’s start with LIGHTING
Notice how the central part of the picture is much brighter and ‘lit’ even though this is supposed to be taking place outdoors in ‘natural’ light. The sense of brightness is created by the placement of white things in the centre of the picture, rather than then any suggestion of a change in the natural lighting. This is a good example of the painter Antoine-Jean Gros’s fidelity to realism, within the context of a highly dramatic setting and action. Gros’s main body of work depicts Napoleon, and he did a great job of it; I will be posting more essays about his paintings.

COLOUR
Gros uses three main colours in this picture; yellow, red and white. Yellow (shades from yellow to brown) is the colour of nature – the dust and earth of Egypt. White appears in the clothing of some of the figures, but in the main, it is the colour of Napoleon’s horse that stands out. Red is very dominant; redness forms a circle around all the centre whiteness. it’s a striking effect.

RED!!
MOVEMENT
Paintings can’t move, but the ‘cinematic’ painting very often gives the illusion of movement, usually through the gestures of the figures or through the use of dynamic composition such as strong diagonals horizontals and verticals that indicate that something is moving through space. Even though we don’t see it moving, we can easily understand that it is moving. When we look at paintings such as this one we really get to see the dynamism of movement as a painted illusion. Here movement is indicated in the centre of the painting by the diagonal positioning of the standard, which slices through this section of the painting in a very strong diagonal line. It is also red, which almost gives it a sense of being like a sword slash, through the painting. The gestures of the figures, with outreaching arms and the twist of the bodies, also indicates movement. The whole painting feels as though it is vibrating with movement, writhing and alive.

MOVEMENT – THE DIAGONAL!
This kind of highly dramatic realism is very common in cinema. In art history, painting something so that it looks as though it is really there or really happening, is often referred to as ‘naturalism’. The struggle and the figures look natural even though as a depiction of the actual battle of Aboukir, I’d seriously question how ‘realistic’ it actually is. I mean, why would the man at the feet of Napoleon’s horse be stark naked? It’s really unlikely the Ottoman troops would go into battle stark naked or wearing clothes that fall off really easily. However from a dramatic point of view, it allows the painter to demonstrate the vulnerability of the Ottoman soldiers (and the weakness of their position) overcome by the magnificent French troops under Napoleon. Additionally it allows Gros to show off his ability to paint the human figure. Of course if we were to try to re-create this battle for cinema we really couldn’t get away with showing this nudity, not for decency reasons but because it would actually be completely ridiculous. In fact even in this picture it’s completely ridiculous but somehow painting gets away with it.
The depiction of battles in cinema has a long history, and has produced some extremely interesting scenes in films but these scenes are difficult to shoot. Partly because unlike in painting, is difficult to get single compositions within the frame so that one can focus on specific incidents. However, painting is itself a guide for the filmmaker. Lighting, compositions use of colour and gesture in paintings can inspire the filmmaker because they demonstrate very clearly what is effective and engaging to the eye.
Some great battles in cinema history:
Omaha Beach Saving Private Ryan
The Street Protest Turned Battle, The Baader-Meinhof Complex
Braveheart – The Battle Of Falkirk
Apocalypse Now, Helicopter Beach Assault
Waterloo (1970), The Charge Of The Cuirassiers
Gladiator, Battle In Germania
Glory (1989), The Storming of Fort Wagner
Zulu (1964), The Battle of Rourke’s Drift

WRITTEN BY GILLIAN MCIVER, 2017 CREATIVE COMMONS LICENSE Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International
SOME RIGHTS RESERVED YOU MAY SHARE, REPRODUCE, DISTRIBUTE, DISPLAY, AND MAKE ADAPTATIONS SO LONG AS YOU ATTRIBUTE IT TO GILLIAN MCIVER.
GILLIAN MCIVER IS THE AUTHOR OF ART HISTORY FOR FILMMAKERS (BLOOMSBURY PRESS) 2016 AVAILABLE AT ALL GOOD BOOKSELLERS INCLUDING AMAZON AND THE REST

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thoughts on Caravaggism

tavern-manfredi

Tavern Scene with a Lute Player by Bartolomeo Manfredi. prob early 1600s

One of my favourite artists in the National Gallery’s Beyond Caravagio show – Bartolomeo Manfredi was a real find for me.

To my mind, Bartolomeo Manfredi is one of the most interesting of the characters just painters, the direct followers of Caravaggio who either studied with him or knew him or had opportunities to see his work at first hand in the period immediately following his death. Like Caravaggio, Bartolomeo Manfredi did not live long, he seems to have died around the age of 40 and sadly there do not seem to be any books about him, although he does appear in various books about Caravaggio (of which there are many). Many if not all of Manfredi’s picutres seem to have been attributed to Caravaggio at some time or other. But he has his own style and interests.

It seems clear to me, from this and other of his paintings, that like Caravaggio, Manfredi was deeply involved in urban life, painting not only “from life,” (that is, from a model), but from observation of the life around him.

This is the great strength of Caravaggio and his immediate followers. Although they did paint from models, they also were exceptionally observant of the world around them and wanted to paint or incorporate into the world their paintings, to incorporate people and scenes from everyday life. This is true even in the greatest religious paintings. They rejected “classicizing naturalism” that is, painting things realistically but in the classical manner (according to the rules laid down by classical aesthetics and classical statuary). They were after the ‘here and now’. Whether it’s found in the detail of a table’s still life, a hand gesture, the tailing of a garment or facial expression, these things really bring the pictures to life and they don’t feel posed or modelled at all. The absolute lack of idealization in Manfredi’s work, like Caravaggio’s, is I think what makes these paintings reach out across the centuries and appeal to us.

Frenchman Valentin de Boulogne was another  Caravaggist of the era, and his work is equally fine – “naturalistic emotional drama.” Both Valentin and Manfredi bring realism and comprehensibility to religious painting, and drama to genre painting.

http://www.wga.hu/art/v/valentin/lastsupp.jpg

above, Last Supper by Valentin de Boulogne 1625. Each person in the shot is an individual, having his own personal feelings/reaction to the situation.

Of course there are deeper layers in the Caravaggist work. They appear quite easy and communicable on the surface, but like many paintings they can be read for much more complex symbolism and allusion, should you want to. The beauty of them is that you don’t have to. Like a great film, these great Caravaggist paintings have both text and subtext; this is what makes Caravaggist painting so close to cinema.

 

[here is a review of a show I wish I had seen]

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The first ever horror movie?

Art History for Film Makers

The first ever horror movie?

4260783793_e9d0bd5168

[the woman holds a ‘magic’ lantern casting the drawing of the Devil onto the wall]

Giovanni Fontana “bellicorum instrumentorum liber” – showing how to create a projection of a Devil drawing, using a ‘magic’ lantern
These were used for a variety of purposes: as entertainment, in theatres, at sideshows and by those seeking to manipulate the credulous.
Fontana was a scientist trained in medicine, but he fancied him self as a bit of a magician (called himself a ‘magus’) and this was probably due to his interest in “natural magic” – a fine line between the natural sciences and alchemy.
The original “bellicorum instrumentorum liber” is in the Bavarian State Library in Munich, but the pictures are all online.
I can’t find a date for the book, but Fontana was born in 1395 and died in 1455 so it was sometime in that period.

The specific technology of the lantern is not apparent here, as the illustrated lantern seems to simply have been a glass  lamp with a candle, with the devil figure drawn on the glass to project a larger image. However, although this does work to some degree, it probably wouldn’t project the image as clearly as Fontana’s drawing suggests. But in this period  Leon Battista Alberti is thought to have possibly projected painted pictures from a small closed box with a small hole* so I am guessing that quite a few people were experimenting with projections, for different reasons – to create theatrical effects, to understand the science of light and vision and – as Fontana suggests – to scare and manipulate the credulous. Fontana seems to be saying that these were used for that purpose and did work. It could be that neither Fontana nor Alberti were quite ready to share the specifics of their own technical discoveries, hence Fontana’s sketchy drawing that does not reveal the mechanics of his lantern, and the absence of detail about Alberti’s box.

 

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