by Dagfari
The Venus de Milo marks the height of the Hellenistic period, in its monumental form, the dramatic swirls of the drapery, and the sense of awesome power it contains. The figure comes forth in all her glory, yet with a sort of deliberateness that is not found in the Renaissance.
A thousand years separate this from the next great revival of classicism, led in part by the artist Alessandro Botticelli. And even now, Botticelli paints with classical subjects, not classical style. In his La Primavera, Venus gazes slightly downward, with the oval face and eyes of a typical portrayal of the Virgin Mary. This is emphasized by the appearance of Cupid, who may allude to the Christ Child. If these attributions are correct, then Venus here takes on the role not of a pagan goddess, but of a symbol who represents all spiritual love.
This whole picture is packed with allegorical scenes which symbolize, in one way or another, the many forms in which love is shown. On one side, Zephyr, the west wind, grasps the nymph Chloris with a firm, strong hand, representing a distressed lover’s last resort to violence. This particular section indicates that the work was meant to hang in the bedroom of a newly wedded couple. This conclusion may be at first astonishing to some, yet images of ill-matched lovers eventually coming together, as these do when Chloris, now transformed into the goddess Flora, agrees to marry Zephyr, were thought to soothe the young bride, in the notion that even the messiest pairings turn out in the end.[1]
But who would be able to afford such a large and detailed painting as a wedding gift? The answer is, of course, one of the wealthiest men in Italy: the great Lorenzo de Medici, known to most as Lorenzo the Magnificent. It is believed that he commissioned it in order to encourage his nephew’s marriage to Semiramide Appiani which was to create a significant political alliance.
Another great portrayal of renaissance romance hangs in the form of a small engraving, in a museum in Vienna entitled The Triumph of Love. Depicted here is a four-wheeled parade float, on top of which stands the familiar Cupid, who has just fired an arrow into the crowd of spectators. In some depictions of this same subject, such as the one in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, smaller cupids stand in for the flames shown here, creating a sort of army of love.
Real parade floats of this type would have been wheeled throughout the city streets, for a man to celebrate she who he loved, and hopefully to win over her hand. The lover would have masqueraded as Cupid, with wings pinned to the back of his shirt. One such float, made for the Medici family, is described by Rosella Bessi:
…Each side is five braccia high from the bottom, and is decorated with so many ornaments that it seems impossible to me that it could ever be made. There are many things worked in silver and gold, with so many enamels and pieces of glass crystal that one can see oneself reflected in it as in a mirror. It shines like the sun on all sides, and at the summit, in the four corners, there are four singular spiritelli…[2]
Vermeer’s The Love Letter contains more subtle symbolism, with paintings and maps which seem like they could be found in any ordinary Dutch house. We will begin to decode the painting with the objects closest to the viewer, in the dark, shadowy room which opens up onto the main space. The most prominent of these is the map of Holland which drips as though bleeding. This may be a key to the whole painting, which shows Vermeer’s defense of Catholicism, a faith which was outlawed in Holland during the end of the 1600s.
The ‘bleeding’ map could indicate that Holland had been severely wounded by the rise of Protestantism; however this dark, gloomy world where we the viewers stand gives way to the bright scene in the tiled room with the fireplace which draws us in toward the warmth.[3] But we, assumed to be protestants, can neither enter the room, nor see the source of the curious light which comes, not from the side as is typical with Vermeer, but from the heavens, revealing that love is portrayed in this picture as a catholic virtue.
The shoes which have been discarded and left in the entrance, are typical in northern scenes of romance and wedding ceremonies. In Jan van Eyck’s famous ‘Arnolfini portrait’, they represent the couple’s acknowledgement of the holy ground on which this event took place. This aspect may have appealed to Vermeer, but to the eyes of the patron, the pearls which embroider the shoes were the most significant touch, emphasizing the woman’s purity. A pair of shoes such as this, although, for practical reasons lacking in pearls, is shown in the exhibit.
The second northern work shown here is the Ill Matched Lovers of Quentin Massys. This great artist of the 16th century, seems to have been fascinated by money, wealth, and the human desire for them. Even here, in a painting which would seem to represent romance, there is an underlying theme of greed. The woman embraces the man for the sole purpose of slipping his sack of coins into the hands of her goblin-like accomplice.
Images of ill-matched lovers first appeared in engravings and woodcuts around the 1400s, and slowly made their way into paintings of greater importance, such as Lucas Cranach the Elder's 1530's work, also titled Ill-Matched Lovers. These pictures were inspired by many different literary sources, the earliest of which was written by the Roman poet, Plautus, when he warned older men not to court young women.
Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss is a fitting conclusion to this exhibit, for it captures the spirit of fulfillment in this single moment when the world glimmers with gold. The gold gives a sense of idealization to the picture, taking inspiration from gothic altarpieces. Klimt may have learned the techniques of gold plating from his father, a goldsmith. This gives the gold more character and liveliness than is shown in the gothic, where the painter and goldsmith were usually separate people.
Like the earlier Primavera, Klimt’s figures are set upon a flourishing field of flowers. Although these plants are described in very little detail compared to Botticelli’s photo-like rendering, they create the beautiful, swirling, natural backdrop, established hundreds of years earlier. The figures also add to the idealized, perfect quality of the painting. The man is strong and firm, whereas the woman has soft, pale skin, and red lips. It seems only right that The Kiss should be adapted into a ballet pas de deux later in the 20th century.
[1] This was especially significant in the 15th when marriages due to love were almost unheard of.
[2] Rossella Bessi-“Lo spectacolo e la scrittura”.
[3] The curtain is drawn back in a way which recalls the actions of Mercury warding back the clouds in La Primavera. Barriers such as this, being removed from the scene were common in Dutch allegories of love at this time.
