“Death and Taxes”

Death:  one of life’s greatest mysteries, and therefore one of people’s greatest fears.

Whilst many peoples and civilisations turn to religion and faith to answer the question of the meaning of life, and the purpose of death, and whether or not life after death exists, the prospect of the actual process of dying causes fear and trepidation.

Although we cannot know for sure what the exact experience of death holds for us, many people do take comfort in the knowledge that heaven, or an afterlife, awaits them.  Why, therefore, is the prospect of death such a scary one?


Rembrandt
The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, 1632.
Oil on canvas, 169.5 x 216.5 cm.
Mauritshuis, The Hague.

Perhaps it is the fear of leaving the known, of leaving people behind, or the fear of pain in passing.  Whatever it is, one thing is certain: death is one thing we cannot escape.  As Brad Pitt discovered, in his extremely good turn as Joe Black in Meet Joe Black (a straightforward title if ever there was one), the only two things certain in this life are death and taxes.

Unfortunately, the probability that death will greet us in the form of Brad Pitt is extremely remote (I’m not giving up hope though....), so let us turn away from Hollywood’s interpretation of death, and take a peek at how past celebrities interpreted it.

Being an art blog, these celebrities will of course be artists such as Rembrandt and, perhaps surprisingly, Monet.  Both of these artists painted death, or dying, as a means of trying to understand what it meant.

Rembrandt painted his famous Anatomy Lesson as a means to pay homage to both the doctor (Nicolaes Tulp), as well as to the science of dissection.  Death had become a teaching tool, allowing others to learn from the bodies left behind.


Claude Monet
Camille on Her Deathbed, 1879.
Oil on canvas, 90 x 68 cm.
Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

However, Monet’s interpretation of death is a lot less clinical, and we can really feel the depth of emotion that the artist is putting into his work.  Camille on Her Deathbed is a painting of his wife – and it is as if he is trying to come to terms with her passing, and trying to understand why she has left him.  It is this emotion which resonates through the ages, and is something which I think everybody can identify with.

Ultimately, I think death is something not to be feared, but when life is cut short it is the hardest for those that are left behind.  But as we mourn the loss of our friends, loved ones, life-long companions, let us also celebrate the time that we have been able to share together, and be thankful for the privilege of being able to know them.  And finally, let us not forget, but keep their memories alive with us.

To discover how the mystery of death has been portrayed over the years, the Wellcome Collection, London, is the perfect place to start.  Death: A Self-Portrait is the exhibition which is getting everybody talking, so why not find out for yourself what all the fuss is about? On display until the 24^th February 2013, this is one collection that you do not want to miss!  If you would like to discover more about how the masters treated the subject of death and the afterlife, look no further than Art of the Devil by Arturo Graf.  Alternatively, to discover what Rembrandt was all about, check out Harmensz van Rijn Rembrandt by Emile Michel.

The Naked Truth

At first this topic had my mind atwitter; I mean how often does a girl get to write about naked men outside of her bedroom? Not that I believe there’s anything particularly aesthetically pleasing about the male physique below the happy/snail/treasure trail; maybe I’m a sucker for a nice bum, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Nor do I spend my private time writing about nude male bodies, and even if I did, you couldn’t prove it.

Given the opportunity to pick famous men I wouldn’t mind seeing naked, I would say: Channing Tatum? Yes, please. Donald Glover? Abso-freaking-lutely. Joseph Gordon Levitt? Please and thank you. John Cho-know-I-would. And, for our older crowd, I’d appreciate a little Benjamin Bratt (pun absolutely intended). Though, discussing this with a colleague, I’ve concluded that while I would enjoy seeing Tatum in the buff under any circumstance, I’d rather see JGL in the sensual privacy of my own home.


Large Sleeping Satyr ("Barberinischer Faun"), c. 220 BCE
Marble, height: 215 cm.
Glyptothek, Munich.

The longer I thought about the topic though (we’re talking at least a week of reviewing male nudes here, nothing but the best research for our readers), the more confused I became. We live in a society that fawns over the nude female body – heck, I’ve even blogged about it – but what about the male body? In film, art, television, and billboards, exposed female curves are everywhere, whether in bits and pieces or full on (to the point in which we need to discuss body image with our sisters/daughters/nieces). We’ve all seen Basic Instinct. However, the double standard remains. Is it because men find other male bodies threatening or uncomfortable? Is it the absurd fear of “catching” homosexuality, as if that were even possible? Women make up half of the consumer market – can’t you try and lure us in with the promise of naked men?


Ginch Gonch, Boys and Toy Bikes, advertising campaign.

I’ve always had the pleasure, or displeasure depending on how you look at it, of male housemates, including growing up with a brother. They were able to openly walk around without shirts and in their underwear, whilst I was discomfited into wearing a bra in my own home. Ladies, help me out, isn’t the most amazing time of day those five seconds after you’ve finally removed your bra? I’ve actually gone so far as to say, “Sorry friend, I can’t come out tonight; I’ve already taken my bra off.” My point being, this is a society that tells women to remain covered or they’ll be slut shamed, but men can wear next to nothing as long as their junk is covered.


Andrew Christian, 9215 Gigolo Thong, Black.

Women shouldn’t be ashamed of their bodies or shy about them, and men, get over your ridiculous fear of other naked men. We’re all beautiful, robed or not, and nudity shouldn’t be a topic of exploitation. We’re born nude, why can’t we stay so? Hurry over to the Leopold Museum to see the nude men exhibition through 4 March. Not possible? Rather look at the goods in private? Get your hands on The Story of Men’s Underwear by Shaun Cole or Nudes by Jp. A. Calosse. You won’t be disappointed.

-Le Lorrain Andrews

Bloody Mary : le sang allemand est-il soluble dans la vodka russe ?

Le thème de cette exposition reste pour moi un mystère. J’ai beau chercher les points de rencontre entre les deux cultures, je ne trouve guère que le gazoduc présidé par Gerhardt Schröder. Peut-il être comparé à un monument d’art contemporain ? J’en doute.

Après les chevaliers teutoniques et leur déculottée à la bataille de Tannenberg par les Polonais, l’Est de l’Europe au-delà de la Volga n’a guère été une source d’inspiration artistique. Peut-être fait-on allusion à Catherine de Russie, née à Stettin en Poméranie, petit État allemand de l’époque de Frédéric le Grand. Mais paradoxe des Catherine, nous avons eu aussi Catherine « de Médicis », était-elle Italienne en France ou Française d’Italie ? Catherine la Grande était sûrement plus russe que prussienne. Ses décisions politiques étaient plus proches des Boyards que des cours princières allemandes.


Catherine II par Feodor Rokotov

Il y eut de fortes migrations allemandes tout au long des xvii^e, xviii^e et xix^e siècles. Des marchands édifièrent des cités en particulier le long de la Volga, mais aussi des quartiers à Saint-Pétersbourg et Moscou. Il y eut bien sûr des alliances princières entre Russie et Allemagne, mais à l’époque tout le monde se mariait entre cousins. Avec la guerre de 14-18, les deux peuples se trucidèrent avec grand art. Ne comptons pas les morts, sans quoi ils pourraient venir nous hanter la nuit. Une défaite, un changement d’acteurs, le Kaiser qui part cultiver des tulipes, Nicolas II qui découvrent les fondrières d’Ekaterinbourg, et Lénine qui impose le communisme. Et là je me demande où sont encore les passerelles culturelles.


Saint-Pétersbourg, église du Saint-Sauveur-sur-le-Sang-Versé

L’après-Grande Guerre nous laissent des témoignages qui, encore aujourd’hui, révulsent nos sentiments et dont nous trouvons trace dans des livres comme Les Réprouvés d’Ernest von Solomon. Que dire de ce doux flirtage entre la République de Weimar, suivie par les Nazis, et l’éternel sourire de Staline derrière sa moustache, des collaborations qui inclurent moins l’art que les armes.

Doit-on considérer la guerre de 41-45 comme un chef-d’œuvre, en paraphrasant le maréchal de Saxe, « un Allemand au service de la France ». Il me revient en mémoire deux ouvrages : La Chute de Berlin de Beevor, et le Journal d’une femme à Berlin. La monstruosité nous apparaît dans toute sa force. Combien de centaines de milliers de femmes ont été violées, des meurtres, des rapines. L’Armée rouge volait tout, même les rivets des portes. Et doit-on oublier ces deux millions d’Allemands de la Volga, déportés et perdus pour l’humanité en Sibérie. La couleur de la Russie était rouge sang. L’Allemagne ne doit pas être absoute.


Berlin, Reichstag

C’est dans les yeux de ma belle-mère, âgée de quatre-vingt ans, que je vis cette expression de peur que partageaient nombre de personnes de cette génération sur la Russie. Leur armée faisait davantage figure d’hordes de barbares que de libérateurs. Bien sûr il y eut Kandinsky et les artistes russes venus en Allemagne à l’époque du Bauhaus. Mais la Russie fait toujours peur.

Cette exposition d’une rencontre entre deux cultures me rappelle le film Le Pianiste de Polanski, où un officier SS sauve la vie d’un Juif, non parce qu’il est un homme, mais parce qu’il joue merveilleusement bien du piano. Les relations entre l’Allemagne et la Russie sont faites de cynisme, plus souvent de barbarie, mais ont rarement été culturelles. L’ours de Berlin et l’ours de Moscou ne peuvent cohabiter sans s’entretuer….


Affiche du Pianiste de Polanski

L’exposition Russes et Allemands. 1000 ans d’art, d’histoire et de culture au Neues Museum de Berlin tente de trouver et de prouver l’existence de liens artistiques entre l’Allemagne et la Russie. Vous pouvez la visiter jusqu’à fin janvier. Pour vous imprégner de l’art allemand ou russe, vous pouvez parcourir les pages de Répine de Grigori Sternin et Jelena Kirillina, Serov de Dmitri V. Sarabianov et Valentin Serov, ou de La Peinture allemande de Franz Dülberg.

Weltuntergang mit anschließender Aftershow-Party

Der Weltuntergang scheint dieses Jahr wieder einmal zum Greifen nah und selbst bei Facebook lädt eine Gruppe zum Weltuntergang mit anschließender Aftershow-Party ein. Zittern oder Zelebrieren wir diesem Tag entgegen?

Der 21. Dezember 2012 wurde aufgrund des endenden Maya-Kalenders zum letzten Tag der Erde erklärt. Dass dieser Kalender aber nur das Ende eines Zyklus‘ bedeutet und laut den Maya logischerweise ein weiteres neues Zeitalter beginnt, verschwiegen viele Interpreten und Katastrophenforscher. Nur einige kompetente Wissenschaftler widerlegten diesen vermeintlichen Untergang anhand des Dresdner Codex.

Doch nicht nur endende Maya-Kalender, sondern vor allem zahlreiche Weltuntergangspropheten versprechen und versprachen immer wieder die Apokalypse. Neben zahlreichen Astronomen finden sich religiöse Glaubensgemeinschaften wie die Mormonen und die Zeugen Jehovas unter den Weltuntergangs-Verkündern. Und auch Girolamo Savonarola oder Martin Luther (sogar mehrfach) gliedern sich ebenso in die Reihe der Propheten der bisher nie stattgefundenen Weltuntergänge ein wie Nostradamus, Sir Isaac Newton, Charles Manson oder der Modemacher Paco Rabanne.


Pieter Bruegel d. Ä., Sturz der gefallenen Engel, 1562.
Öl auf Holz, 118,5 x 162,5 cm.
Koninklijke Musea voor Schone Kunsten van België, Brüssel.

Doch wie haben wir uns diesen Weltuntergang vorzustellen? Vermeintlich genaue Daten liefern uns regelmäßig Wahrsager, Sektenführer, Wissenschaftler oder einflussreiche Persönlichkeiten; die Bilder liefert uns jedoch die Kunst. Seit Jahrhunderten stützen bildende Künstler unseren Glauben an das Ende der Welt, den Höllenschlund, die Welt bevölkernde Monster und Ungeheuer oder, ganz modern, an Außerirdische, die die Weltherrschaft an sich reißen wollen. Und trotz der schauerlichen Darstellungen von Drachen, Mischwesen und Ungeheuern wahren doch vor allem Künstler wie Bosch, Dürer oder Mantegna den künstlerischen Anspruch. Ihnen gelingt es, das Schöne im Hässlichen zu offenbaren.


Andrea Mantegna, Schlacht der Meeresgötter, um 1470-1475.
Kupferstich, 28,3 x 82,6 cm.
Devonshire collection, Chatsworth House, Chatsworth.

Wenn Sie sich von der Schönheit der Darstellungen apokalyptischer Visionen mit all ihren Monstern und Ungeheuern überzeugen lassen wollen, so haben Sie auf jeden Fall noch bis zum 10. März 2013 in der Ausstellung Beautiful Monsters: Beasts and Fantastic Creatures in Early European Prints in der Art Gallery of Alberta, Edmonton, Kanada, die Gelegenheit dazu. Falls Sie den Weltuntergang zu Hause erwarten, finden Sie mit dem Buch Apokalypse von Camille Flammarion oder, wenn Sie es weniger skurril mögen, mit dem Buch Tiergemälde von John Bascom, beide im Verlag Parkstone International erschienen, einen idealen Zeitvertreib.

Rodin, das Fleisch, der Marmor.

Dieser Titel weckt in mir das spontane und immense Verlangen nach einem gut gebratenem Beefsteak, außen scharf angebraten, innen zart rosa und in der Mitte noch etwas blutig, das ganze mit Salz und Pfeffer gewürzt – ein Genuss. Viele Vegetarier und Veganer, die meinen größten Respekt, aber auch mein Unverständnis haben, werden auf dieses Verlangen eher mit Abscheu oder Ekel reagieren.

Fleisch ist generell ein viel erforschtes und heiß diskutiertes Thema. Isst man es oder isst man es nicht? Und wenn ja, ist zu viel rotes Fleisch ungesund? Wie kann ich mich ausgeglichen ernähren. Aber die entscheidende und meistumstrittene Frage überhaupt: Wie bereite ich ein gutes Stück Fleisch zu? Und wie unterscheide ich im Vorfeld ein gutes von einem weniger guten Stück Fleisch? Mehr oder weniger hilfreiche Tipps und Tricks versuchen uns viele Zeitschriften, Kochsendungen und Bücher zu vermitteln und so ist das Beef-Magazin gar nicht mal verkehrt und vielleicht auch gerade deshalb interessant, weil es seinen ungebrochenen Anspruch auf Männlichkeit bewahrt. Und irgendwie haben die Redakteure damit ja auch recht: Fleisch ist männlich – und die Grillsaison beginnt jedes Jahr am 01. Januar und endet am 31. Dezember.

Aber Fleisch ist ebenso sexy. Ja, Fleisch ist sexy, weil ein pures Genussmittel. Im übertragenen Sinne hat sich hieraus ja auch die Fleischeslust ergeben, die Lust auf das Fleisch des anderen Geschlechts – Sex, Erotik und Leidenschaft sind in dieser Lust inbegriffen. Ob Rodin nun ein Steakliebhaber war, ist schwer zu beurteilen, jedoch lag ihm die Darstellung der Fleischeslust: der Lust am Schauen, der Begierde des Fleisches für das Fleisch. Nackte erotische Körper scheinen aus dem Marmor zu entspringen, entstehen aus ihm, zeigen Leidenschaft in der Bewegung, im Moment des Kusses, in der Umarmung.


Auguste Rodin, Danaid, um 1889.
Marmor, 36 x 71 x 53 cm.
Musée Rodin, Paris.

 

Ob Sie nun Fleischliebhaber, Vegetarier, Veganer oder Frutarier sind, genießen Sie die Skulpturen Rodins – das dem Marmor entwachsende Fleisch – noch bis zum 1. September 2013 im Musée Rodin in der Ausstellung Rodin, la chair, le marbre oder holen Sie sich die Leidenschaft dieses Bildhauers in hochauflösenden Abbildungen mit den verschiedenen Formaten des Verlages Parkstone International nach Hause und entdecken Sie diesen einzigartigen Künstler durch die Augen des großen Dichters Rainer Maria Rilke.

Where the Wild Things Are

It is at dusk that our imaginations and fears start to play tricks on our minds.  The sun-filled, logical part of the day is over. Twilight deepens.  Looming shadows, the scuttling of animals, and eerie, indiscernible shapes; the witching hour approaches.  This is the time, walking home from work on a cold winter’s night, when your brain conjures up all those things that go bump in the night.  You walk faster, trying to get ahead of the possible footsteps behind you, jump at the tree branch when it brushes your shoulder, and peer ahead into the gloom, trying desperately to make out what the troll-like shape is in front of you (it’s a wheelie bin).


Now, transfer those feelings of wintery evening walks back to a time when people still actually believed in the creatures of the night, to a time when such mythological creatures were symbols of doom, and to a time when they were used as warnings; to frighten and warn people away from religious and moral transgressions.  In the 15^th, 16^th, and 17^th centuries, witch-hunts were a prevalent issue.  Folk-stories about wolves and other predators waiting in the depths of forests were used to frighten small children into being good.  Tales such as these, which the Brothers Grimm were so good as to collect for us, were allegories for good and evil.  The unknown and the unexplained were evil, the known and explainable were good.

 


Leonardo da Vinci. Study for the Fight against the Dragon, c. 1480. Pen and ink, grey wash, 19 x 12.5 cm. Musée du Louvre, Paris.

Artists of these time periods were able to use these stories and their own imaginations to create works to frighten, intrigue, and instruct.  Leonardo da Vinci was one such artist.  Perhaps best-known for the Mona Lisa, the Virgin of the Rocks etc., it is also true that he composed many studies using mythological creatures.  In one such, his study of a knight killing a dragon is both fantastical and allegorical; the dragon being the symbol of evil, and the knight-in-shining-armour... well, being the knight-in-shining-armour.

 


Hieronymus Bosch. The Garden of Earthly Delights, c. 1500-1505. Oil on panel, 220 x 389 cm (triptych). Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid.

 

Artists such as Hieronymus Bosch understood the human fascination with the fantastic, and the mythical.  A fascination we retain today.  (Think Twilight, the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter...)  This understanding of the human mindset led to Bosch’s work ‘The Garden of Earthly Delights’ to becoming one of the single most well-known pieces of art to come out of the 16^th century.  The creatures which sprung out of his imagination and onto the canvas in the central panel also serve as allegories.  The fictional creatures such as mermaids and mutated unicorns (no longer the pure white of the Garden of Eden panel, and no longer pure horse) serve to portray the indulgences and excesses of mankind, initially fun and exciting, but in the end , they lead to creations far out of the realms of my ‘bump in the night’ imagined creatures.  (See the third panel.)

So, it seems that every century has had a creepy, winter’s night walk feeling. But the best part about experiencing it in this century? For me, it’s getting into my warm, well-lit hallway, and laughing at myself for all the stories I’ve been making up in my head.  I’ll take the walk over a witch-hunt any day!

 

To experience the mythical and the monstrous, without having to endure the feeling that ghouls and ghosties are on your trail, check out the Beautiful Monsters exhibition at the Art Gallery of Alberta, Edmonton(Canada).  Being held until the 3^rd March 2013, banish your winter blues by taking a walk on the mythological wild side with artists such as Dürer, Callot, and Beham.  For a perhaps more local night in (and what could be more local than your own sitting room?) try cosying up to a copy of John Bascom’s Beauty of the Beast.

Living Marble Masterpieces

I grew up about an hour outside of Philadelphia – a hub of culture, art, and United States history. Being introduced to the arts and science (I still, in my late twenties, love to touch things in the Franklin Institute) at a young age, Auguste Rodin’s sculptures are amongst my earlier memories. I always stared at them the longest and hardest, waiting for them to breathe. You should also know I stood quite a distance away because works like Adam (bronze, modelled 1880-1881) are fairly frightening for a ten year old.

It’s said that marble is the most flesh-like material; naturally cold and hard, it needs to be warm and supple to produce the desired effect. An effect which Rodin always managed to take a bit further in all of his works, whether marble, bronze, or plaster. Viewing the lovers of Eternal Springtime (Philadelphia Art Museum, plaster, modelled 1884), it appears as if they are simply holding their breath for passers-by because they’ve been caught in a private moment and hope to be ignored so they can continue with their business.


(Okay, not the one in the Philadelphia Art Museum of which I boasted, but equally good!)
August Rodin, Eternal Spring, or Eternal Springtime, probably modelled 1881, executed 1906-1907.
Marble, 71.1 cm.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

Greatly admiring Michelangelo, Rodin strove to equal his mastery of the human body so far as giving life to his statues. I would argue that Rodin accomplished this goal many times over, before even travelling to Italy to better study Michelangelo’s works. Depending on the piece, sadness, happiness, strength, despair, or love exudes from Rodin’s masterpieces.

The Danaïd daughters, subsequent to murdering their husbands after betrothal (49 of the 50 girls), were sentenced to the Underworld and forced to carry a jug of water to fill a bottomless bath to wash away their sins. In Rodin’s recreation, the back is beautifully rendered, as is the nape of her neck, but most of all she oozes despair at the profound error of her sin.


Auguste Rodin, Danaïd, 1889.
Marble, 36 x 71 x 53 cm.
Musée Rodin, Paris.

The Musée Rodin, already a breeding ground for magnificence and splendour, is exhibiting Rodin, flesh and marble now through 1 September 2013. You’ve got plenty of time to go and experience all of the emotions and see the intricacies of Rodin’s masterworks. Also, Auguste Rodin by Rilke is sure to be a much appreciated gift this holiday season! Wonderfully written and breathtakingly illustrated, don’t miss out on these books (Rodin by Rilke) about nearly-modern day Rodin!

-Le Lorrain Andrews