#Curate This: Day Two

In 1862 Eastman Johnson, American painter and co-founder of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, followed the Army of the Potomac into northern Virginia, seeking subjects for his art. Johnson took great care to record that he was a witness to this particular event, affixing a note that remains on the reverse of the painting and reads in part: “A veritable incident in the civil war seen by myself at Centerville.” Whole elements of the suspenseful atmosphere, such as the dark fog punctuated by the early dawn light, may have been the artist’s embellishment. The family’s fearful but determined flight presents a powerful illustration of the overwhelming desire for freedom that motivated many throughout the South to escape bondage despite the risk of great peril.

#CurateThis: Day One

St. Paul the Hermit was the first of the hermit saints, men whose devout lives made them models for Christian monasticism. In the third century A.D., Paul fled into the Egyptian desert to escape the persecutions of Emperor Decius; there he lived a life of austere contemplation. He wore only a garment of woven palm leaves and survived on bread that a raven miraculously brought to him daily.

Baroque artists, following the edicts of the Counter-Reformation, tried to make the images of saints and the emotional drama of sacred events as immediate and real to the worshiper as possible. Giordano’s painting of St. Paul faithfully records the effects of age and physical hardship on the saint’s face and body. The large figure nearly fills the frame – his knee even seems to protrude into the viewer’s space.

However, this is a painting about a real man meeting with his God; accordingly the heavenly vision toward which the saint turns in ecstasy illuminates the painting with an unearthly brilliance.

#CurateThis

Every month (or so) we take a look at various pieces in our collection that have similar themes or attributes but will likey never appear together in a gallery. As you learn more about each piece throughout the week, think about what you could call this mini-exhibition. What themes come to mind? 

#CurateThis: Goya. 

One can fall down a rabbit hole of Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes’ (1746-1828) dark etchings. Witch on a Swing, from The Late Caprichos series is one of dozens of dark depictions of an equally dark world that Goya faced. He is known for etchings that depict the depravities of war, child abuse, and the subjugation of women, and he used 18th century iconography to help transfer his message. For example, cats stood for witchcraft. For all of the dark themes in Goyas work, this witch seems to be, dare we say...having fun?

#Curate This: Not Your Neighbor’s House...

This house stood at a corner of rue de Coq  in the area behind the Hôtel de Ville (City Hall) in Paris, a 15th or early 16th century turret. It was demolished as many other structures in that area were to make room for the regular, wide, and new (as opposed to narrow, twisting and turning, and medieval) rue de Rivoli. 

In the early 1850s, the rue de Rivoli was being extended into the Marais, a historic district where French nobles built hotel grand townhouses in the 17th, 18th centuries. Those homes were in bad shape or being abandoned by the mid 19th century. This house was demolished just before Charles Meryon made this etching, so he very likely made sketches from life and embellished with details (especially the figures) later. 

We don’t know in what sense his image is commemorative—but it definitely feels very melancholy and spooky! There’s smoke from the chimneys, so someone still inhabits it—but it definitely looks to be in need of care. Would you go inside?

#CurateThis: Duro-Verde

“My recent paintings have become a kind of orchestration of electronic impulses fluttering between 3-D and 2-D or substance and lack of it.” - Ed Paschke

Like other Chicago Imagists, Paschke often turned to mass media for inspiration and ideas. In early works, he scoured poster bills and magazines for images of outsiders such as wrestlers, prostitutes, and circus performers. In later works, such as Duro-Verde, Paschke turned to electronic media. Here the green pall and pulsating background pattern suggest television’s glow and hum. 

For Paschke, television symbolized a disaffected society for whom the distance between reality and representation had dissolved. At the same time, he understood the escape television offered from this disaffection through its dramas and fantasies. The tension that permeates Duro-Verde, from the curious actions of the figures to the foreboding masked faces, reflects Paschke’s anxiety over this contemporary dilemma.