My Kid Could Paint That

Portrait of a Man with a Medal, 1474, Botticelli

Once in awhile, our art history does this activity: we are given a few minutes to choose a painting from one of the various books in Mr. Luce's room, and then we draw it.

Few of us are actually artistically talented, but we do try. When the few minutes pass and a the timer sounds, we return to conversation with our distorted and unproportionate figures. Mr. Luce then asks- “After drawing this painting, what did you learn?”My first thought it always something along the lines of, “Wow, how did I manage to screw this painting up that bad?"

But finishing with a gorgeous product isn’t the end goal. It’s learning about the art through the process of creating it. I think most people realize good art is hard to make, although when you actually try to implement the techniques used by the artist the complexity of the work truly comes to light.

In reality there’s no way that I’d never come close to imitating the techniques of these great artists. Although we recently finished a book in class titled: Painting and Experience in Fifteenth-Century Italy: A Primer in the Social History of Pictorial Style, that gave me a sliver of hope.

Baxandall approaches Italian Renaissance art in a way I had never experienced. Like most people, I considered art to be just art. It's wonderful and aesthetically pleasing, but Baxandall argues for more calling it an experience. I hadn’t thought about it this way, but it makes more and more sense as the idea processes. It is something we can evolve and improve on. Three factors improve the experience of art, and experiencing an enhanced beauty relies on three particulars: more intense light, clearer color, and better proportion. If the book had taught me nothing but this I believe I’d be able to grasp the shifting period eye that is to come in the modern day.

Botticelli, a master of the Renaissance, explored all of these aspects as he progressed as an artist. In the midst of his career he painted Portrait of a Man with a Medal. For a man with a skill set as amazing as Botticelli's, a portrait is basic. Although not fully meeting the expectations of Baxandall with this piece, it is an example of the artists technological advancements as he works toward modernizing the medium.

Botticelli, Pallas and the Centaur, 1485

By NATALIE BEYER

Botticelli, Lamentation Over the Dead Christ with Saints, 1495

By ETHAN DOSKEY

In Botticelli's final years of painting, his style underwent complete atrophy. Under the unmitigated influence of the quasi-preacher, Savonarola, Botticelli questioned the religious implications of his art. In direct contrast to the Medici Renaissance ideals, Savonarola condemned all "sinful" acts of participating in the sciences and arts. This, in effect, pulls Botticelli apart (you can see a direct correlation in his paintings through the years) and drives him to burn his paintings in the "bonfire of the vanities" and retire.

Before his spiritual crisis, Botticelli was regarded as a master of his trade by those who recorded their opinions. "Sandro Botticelli, an excellent painter both on panel and on the wall. As Michael Baxandall says, "His things have a virile air and are done with the best method and complete proportion" (Baxandall 26). From the vague words of an agent of the Duke of Milan in 1490, he praises the energetic vibe of Botticelli's painting, and the "method" and the "complete proportion" of his works. Though this may not mean much to the twenty-first century reader, art critics in 1400s Florence did not have any concrete grounds for what constituted a "good" and "bad" painting.  Instead, they were faced with the difficult task of conveying the desirable attributes of art according to the community of the time. By this time Botticelli had created such magnum operas (for I think that narrowing it down to one would be unfair) as Primavera and The Birth of Venus, exhibits of his "golden years" in painting.

Two years before he tossed his personal collection of works to their fiery doom under Savonarola's direction, Botticelli painted the passion-infused Lamentation Over the Dead Christ with Saints. A vertical take on his more illustrious Lamentation over the Dead Christ, (without saints in the title) Botticelli disregards his previous realism approach to painting that he was so commended for. The neck of one of the Three Marys at Jesus' feet floats below her shoulders in a disturbing (Isolation dance move) fashion and Jesus' body appears scaled down in size and is being held up by his head and feet.

Despite the negligence of proportion and physical capabilities, the emotion and gesture depicted in this painted do more than redeem the aberrations. Botticelli expresses a pure grief and despair that I believe one can understand as a human without any familiarity with The Bible, Jesus' life, or Renaissance Art. Each face, shown or covered, tells a different story the provokes vivid sentiments in my mind in a captivating manner.

Sandro Botticelli, Madonna of the Pomegranate, 1487

Clearly I can't get enough of Botticelli's work, as I have yet another painting to present.

Despite being one of his later works, Botticelli demonstrates the same exquisiteness seen in his art by paying attention to color and emotion in his subjects of Madonna of the Pomegranate.  

The Virgin Mary holds Jesus in her arms, which Botticelli purposefully illustrates as oversized to symbolize Mary's motherly role in Jesus' birth and death. The six angels gather around the mother and child; their length not only demonstrates proportion, but also creates support for the painting in substitution for the lack of architecture. While they sit under the heavenly light, the subjects' faces provide a solemn environment for the painting, as they morn about the eventual crucifixion and death of Christ.

Although this painting is often referred to as holistically Biblical, the renowned artist does not fail to interject his favoritism for Greek Mythology. Botticelli paints a pomegranate in the child's hand to parallel this work to the myth of Proserpina. Hades imprisons Proserpina in Hell, but Hermes comes to rescue her as ordered by her father Zeus. In order to restore her freedom, Hades forces Proserpina to eat six pomegranate seeds as a representation of fidelity in their marriage. Proserpina must now spend six months with her traitorous husband, and the other six with her mother. Returning in the springtime, her mother decorates the home with welcoming flowers to compose a colorful and euphoric landscape. In the fall when Proserpina returns to Hades, the nature loses its color and joy is lost.

What I'm trying to get at here is that Botticelli applies this symbolism of the pomegranate in the Greek myth to the resurrection of Jesus in the spring and the joy of Christian community that is brought by his rebirth. Moreover, we see that Botticelli's colorful palette and illustration of the flowers on the most left angel are paying attention to Proserpina's story.

As Botticelli strategically crafts this piece of art, we as viewers are forced to look at the composition through Michael Baxandall's period eye. By looking at Botticelli's other works and then returning to this piece, the audience is forced to resist the instinctive "visual perception that ceases to be uniform, from one man to the next" (Baxandall 29). Botticelli's paintings are a prime example of period eye, as works like Primavera, the hilarious Mars and Venus, and Mystic Nativity all share an underlying theme about the painter's societal views on the class system or the time period's cultural impacts of religious suppression.

Here Madonna of the Pomegranate follows Baxandall's theory of symbolism through the color palette, as well as through the Rule of Three. The painting follows what Baxandall would consider a graceful, vibrant, and powerful composition, which speaks to the movement of art in Renaissance society, religious turmoil, and Botticelli's positive outlook on the future. In Baxandall's The Painting & Experience in Fifteenth-Century Italy, he concludes by discussing how "the forms and styles of painting respond to social circumstances. It is symmetrical and proper to suggest that the forms and styles of paintings may sharpen our perception of the society" (151). Botticelli proves to follow Baxandall's ideologies in Madonna of the Pomegranate by implying that despite the religious turmoil the Renaissance is facing, there will eventually be change and restoration of peace in Roman society. Moreover, as this painting correlated with the start of Botticelli's fascination with Girolamo Savonarola, the artist may be force-feeding his audience his perspectives on his mentor's demand Christian renewal.

Regardless, I tip my hat to you Botticelli, for once again amazing me with the symbolism of your paintings, of which have most certainly altered my perception of Renaissance and modern day society.

Sandro Botticelli, The Mystic Nativity, 1500

Oh Botticelli, what exactly have you crafted for us here...?

Sandro Botticelli, Primavera, 1478

Absolutely breathtaking. Maybe it's the characters' heartfelt expressions or the painstaking attention to detail in the meadow. But, wait. Where is Christ? Why on earth are there no saints?

Commissioned by the Medici family as a present for their newlywed family members, Sandro Botticelli seizes this moment to break from tradition by creating a large scale mythological scene with Venus as the central figure. Botticelli captures sensuality and fertility in this painting as encompassed in the ornate background and the other figures in the painting. Moreover, legend has it that the Medici family had a orange grove on their property, so Botticelli parallels the oranges to the notion of hopefulness in marriage and the opportunity to produce "fruit" for their family.

However on the right-hand side, Botticelli exhibits tension between Zephyr and Chloris to emphasize the conflict that arouses between marriages as a result of male domination in 15th century culture. According to Greek mythology, Zyphyr, the wind of March, kidnaps the nymph Chloris to marry her. Chloris then becomes the goddess of Spring and eternal bearer of life. Botticelli warns the viewers of the obstacles marriage can bring, as the artist illustrates frail trees and a lack of fruit to parallel to the lack of respect for women and how that may affect their inability to produce "fruit." Botticelli conclusively highlights the recurrence of oranges above the pregnant Flora to re-enforce the notion of respect for women in this dynamic.

Botticelli continues to reference these advanced ideologies throughout Primavera, as demonstrated in the relationships of the Graces, Cupid, and Mercury. Nonetheless he continues to depict emotion, depth, and detail in the figures and their surroundings that seems prevalent in almost all of his work. Most importantly, while this painting breaks from the Renaissance artistic structures and religious definition, Botticelli proves to address this notion of human interaction. Creating an new, abstract representation of beauty through the botanical gardens and Greek figures for the public to reflect on, we see that the lack of religious infliction only benefits Botticelli's status as a renowned and respected artist in the coming centuries.

Just Your Average Mental Breakdown
Artists Losing It
Curated by Drew Bierwirth

Botticelli, Mystic Nativity, 1500

Spurred by Girolamo Savonarola, Botticelli's art style evolved completely, twisting into something far different from anything he had done before. The colors were darker and the subject matter even more so.

Here, Botticelli depicts his own Nativity scene, but it looks more apocalyptic. Botticelli's transformation from Birth of Venus to this piece required not just his own mental transformation, but also inspiration from one already farther gone than him. Savonarola was a fanatic religious reformer, and one who targeted Botticelli's prime benefactor: Lorenzo Medici. Lorenzo fell victim to harsh criticism from Savonarola, who preached of fire and brimstone for the immoral and for aristocrats. He also railed against the general corruption of the Catholic Church.These sermons, witnessed by Botticelli, had profound effects on both his work and his social standings. Savonarola took Botticelli from the brightest fame to the darkest anonymity, this piece being one of his final works after Savonarola's death. Caught up in the fervor and fear that zealotry wrought upon the public, Botticelli's art metamorphosed from his light, detailed religious pieces to brooding, apocalyptic scenes that brilliantly reflected the fear in his heart of divine judgement all too well.

Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus, 1432

The assignment said three minutes. Three minutes to talk about our assigned painting. You could hope your classmates would ask you-time sucking questions, or that you’d be charming enough that one would need to hold for laughs, and suck up the three minutes that way, but you can never count on it. So I prepared to speak for three minutes. Myth of the characters, symbolism of the colors, and division in the composition all were supposed to take about a minute, with each bullet point to mention carefully selected. So my name was called, and up I went. Not intimidated or nervous, but cautious. Speak too quickly and end to early, or speak too slowly and sound clinical. Three minutes. Go.

I spoke like I read the painting, left to right, pausing to notice quirks and brilliant details. I had hardly reached Venus when I heard the timer sound, but the “keep going” nod of approval was relieving, not intimidating. On I went. I had spent enough time with this work to get not just the bullet points, but the… stuff. The fun stuff. The art stuff. I noticed new things as I went, and it was a thrill to continue. It wasn’t scary anymore, or presentational anymore. It was fun. I learned as I spoke. Myths are fun, art is fun. And when a visitor came, and one person needed to present again for them to observe our class structure, it was fun even a second time. Seeing The Birth of Venus doesn’t fill me with the stress of having to rack my brain for the artist or title, because I know that painting. I have a comfort with it. Now every time I see it I am reminded of three things: the comfort that comes with preparation, the connection one can have with story even if it is not their own, and how convenient Venus’ hair length is. And if that isn’t artistic observation...

Editor's Note: The students were assigned to write about the painting that has impacted them the most. These pieces will run for  about two weeks. 

Sandro Botticelli, Mystic Nativity, 1500

I just turned eighteen. It’s hit me now more then it initially did. I woke up one day and there I was, an adult. For the past two years I have always felt sixteen. Seventeen passed with little acknowledgment and now I’m just absorbing the reality of my age. I just now realize how old I am. Two years away from being twenty. I think this is what it feels like when my parents complain about how old they’re turning. There’s so much I feel I need to accomplish before I graduate, yet the time is quickly seeping away.

Over Thanksgiving break my grandfather and my father both flew into town. All this life in one house, it leads me to wonder what adventures I’ll eventually embark on. What incredible stories will I collect? I’m at the point where college rests on the edge of the horizon, steadily approaching.

When confronted with Mystic Nativity, I’m immediately drawn to Botticelli’s use of space. The painting is overall well-balanced. I love this piece because of the subject matter, with its depiction of Nativity spliced with an apocalyptic scene. When Botticelli was painting this, it was widely believed that the year 1500 would be judgment day, Christ’s return. The scene is inspired by the teachings of a religious leader, Savonarola, who came into popularity a decade before the end of the 16th century. He preached to the people of Florence to give up their materialistic possessions, their excessive luxury. The painting itself screams “awesome.” The sky being ripped open to reveal a rich gold.

Boticelli, Adoration of the Magi, 1475

The pompous noble men, furthest from Jesus, reminds us of the “ Vice President Joe Biden.  Biden’s smirks and condescending comments ("That’s a bunch of malarkey" "Oh, now you're Jack Kennedy?") reflect those men in Adoration of the Magi.  Biden outward appearance implies a strong religious faith that cares for the poor.  Nice try, Biden.. and other “generous” Americans, your $5,540 of $379,035 (1.5%) of charitable giving is 6.1% less than the average donations given by the middle class.  Botticelli’s painting delivers the truth behind the hypocritical upper class.

The people kneeling by Jesus are the charitable givers and the devoted.  As watching a crippled and abandoned Guatemalan woman walk to church every Sunday, the true definition of devotion and charitable giving reflects the poor.  The hope and happiness received by those in need has a significant value compared to all the money in the world. 

Sandro Botticelli, Return of Judith to Bethulia, 1473

Sandro Botticelli, Birth of Venus, 1482

Depicting the myth of the creation of the Goddess of Love, Botticelli’s Birth of Venus explores - in one of the first non-biblical female nudes - the use of body language in a work. A fresco technique on canvas, Botticelli’s methods resulted in brighter colors than seen in this time. The gold of Venus’ hair and radiant blues of waves and drapery highlight the achievement of Botticelli through an alternate approach. Contrasts in lighting depict movement, led by Venus’ nude body.

From the God of wind on the left to the Goddess of seasons on the right, Venus begins her transition from the divine to the worldly. Naked and with delicate force, Zepherus uses his wind to push Venus toward earth. Separation between the two places is created by Venus, appearing upright. On the left, blue vastness symbolizes the divinity Venus came from, contrasting the fertility and fruitulness of the earth on the right. At first glance, Venus stands firmly, creating a distinct separation between the two spheres. However, with closer examination as we follow the line of her legs, we see her sway more toward the right, already accepting and embracing her arrival in the natural world. A nude body, without the disruption of clothing and drapery made so popular in the Rennisance, more clearly accentuates the action of a body than did the flow and pattern of drapery in a work. For the first time, the flow of a body could be used to show movement.

Female nudity in this work, deemed sufficiently tasteful for a church setting, draws attention to Venus’ innocence and freshness upon being newly born. Pale skin, closely mirroring that of her "father" on the left, as well as a covering hand and elongated neck, assists the image of purity in the newborn. Sharp contrast between movement in Venus’ body and movement in Horae’s dress shows variation in methods of achieving movement and flow in a painting. The scantily clad bodies on the left, with arms, legs, and hair, behind the figure, show Venus’ transcendence to earth. On the right, with outstretched arms, and presenting a floral tapestry with which to swaddle her kin, the body of Horae welcomes and receives.

Born from a shell, Venus still manages to humanize her innocence, even being fully grown. The language of the figures, though without much support from detailed facial expressions, presents clear motion. Newfound accentuation of body lauguage through nudity allowed Botticelli to enhance motion and myth, while still allowing for enough modesty in his subjects to be displayed in a church for all of Italy to see.

Sandro Botticelli, Primavera, 1481

Nothing is painted more elaborately or beautifully than the human desire. Deriving from "De Rerum Natura," written by poet Lucretiu, as well as "Fasti," Ovid's Roman calendar, Botticelli found inspiration to paint the scene. The Medici family was by far the most prominent entity in the Florentine social and political spectrum. Hired by Lorenzo De Medici, Sandro Botticelli became one of the family's stalwarts, painting political and private controversial scenes.

Primavera, translated to spring, was commissioned by Lorenzo De Medici for his cousin's wedding to depict the passion of the human desire. Venus stands in the center next to the pregnant Flora. Zephyrus, god of the wind, is infatuated with the nymph Chloris, and he grabs her completely filled with passion. Hovering above Venus is Amor, her son, shooting flaming arrows of passion that fill whomever they strike with intense love.

Primavera not only represents fiery human passion, but it also carries a striking yet subtle political message. The botanical elements provide contextual evidence to the prominence of the Medici. The orange fruits adoring the trees greatly resemble the golden balls of the Medici coat of arms. Hellbore, a toxic root which was used to cure melancholy and madness, is present under the feet of Venus. Translated to italian Pazzia, Botticelli used the root to refer to the Pazzi family, victims of the infamous Pazzi conspiracy that left many dead.

Sandro Botticelli, The Mystic Nativity, 1500

Sandro Botticelli, AKA Alessandro di Mariano Filipepi, walked both the life of luxury and the life of poverty. During the rainbows and unicorn portion of his life, he was best friends with the gangster family: the Medicis. During that friendship, he was renown for his paintings like Primavera. However once the Medici family fell from grace, he did too. So poor Botticelli finds himself another leader, Girolamo Savonarola. Savonarola was a rather insane monk who preached of leaving all worldly goods and reforming the government. Of course, any mention of reforming the government at that time should have been an enormous red sign screaming for Botticelli to leave the group. And instead of listening to common sense, Botticelli became deeply immersed in all that the monk preached. And that's where his works turned religious instead of mythical. The most prominent example would be The Mystic Nativity. Just by the title, Botticelli labeled himself as a fanatic and/or devout religious man.

Not only does the subject change in this painting, but the method in which Botticelli paints also slightly differs from before. In The Mystic Nativity, Botticelli paints a story instead of one scene, and to say that he enjoys inserting symbolism is the biggest understatement of his career. Starting from the bottom left, with the road, Botticelli paints a clear separation of the human, mortal and heavenly worlds. And rather cutely, Botticelli paints blue little devil monster creatures and snakes that decorate the view until about 1/3 up from the bottom. That's where the mortal world makes connection with the heavenly one and the symbolism is apparent. There are no devils in heaven. The viewer's eyes move from left to right from the angels seemingly helping the mortals to the final center with Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus. The gaping cave behind the family possibly represents the cave in which Jesus would emerge from (after his death) years later. The olive trees along the pathway represent connection between the human world and the divine world.

Botticelli enjoys using symmetry, evident in this painting where the angels circle at the top are evenly matched in colors and the forms of the group of men, most likely the shepherd and the kings, also show balance. If things aren't religious enough, Botticelli hammers the final nail in his religious coffin with Greek inscription at the top. It roughly translates to "This picture, at the end of the year 1500, in troubles of Italy, I Alessandro, in the half time after the time, painted, following the eleventh of Saint John, in the second woe of the Apocalypse, during the release of the devil for three anda  half years; then he shall be bound in the twelfth we shall see as shown in this picture." Botticelli evidently did not understand the concept of a run-on sentence. But in short, he possibly meant something along the lines of waiting for the time of Christ to save them all.

And, unfortunately for him, his revered insane monk leader, Savonarola was finally accused of being insane and killed along with a majority of followers. Though Botticelli escaped execution, he could never get his career on path again and thus he died penniless. Ouch.

Sandro Filipepi Botticelli, Punishment of Korah, 1482