My Kid Could Paint That

Raphael, Vision of Ezekiel, 1516

Behold! A painting as equally bad-ass as its subject matter. Ezekiel fills the central space, his arms reaching out, seeming to almost pull open the heavens. His posture almost seems to say, "Look at the greatness I show to you!" Such heavy weight lies in the bottom of the painting, but it doesn't change the balance of the piece. A darkened Earth is completely eclipsed by the holy light Ezekiel seems to pull from the sky. The first psalm in the Book of Ezekiel serves as the model for this light, describing "a stormy wind [blew] from the north, a great cloud with light around it, a fire from which flashes of lightning darted, and in the center a sheen like bronze at the heart of the fire" (Ezekiel 1:4-6). One thing I love about this piece is how strong and non-threateningly imposing Ezekiel looks. His name literally translates to "God will strengthen," and that meaning is so evident in every facet of Ezekiel's figure.

Equally formidable, the other characters form a U beneath Ezekiel and support him into the sky. The book of Ezekiel reads, "In the center I saw what seemed four animals. They looked like this. They were of human form. Each had four faces, each had four wings. …As to what they looked like, they had human faces, and all four had a lion’s face to the right, and all four had a bull’s face to the left, and all four had an eagle’s face. Their wings were spread upward; each had two wings that touched, and two wings that covered his body;.." (Ezekiel 1:7-12). Raphael takes a different approach to the figures, focusing more upon the aesthetics of the creatures rather than giving form to the whole four-winged, three-faced idea. Each animal holds their own spiritual meaning; the eagle represents rising above the Earth, and in the piece he is Ezekiel's main support; the bull denotes power and strength, though in the piece he looks rather like a horse; the lion is a sun symbol and usually serves as an emblem of Christ, the "light of the world."

Ezekiel's vision itself is God-given, showing him the Four Cherubim who cover the Throne of God... and God's entire Plan of Salvation, shown by the animal symbols supporting his flight into the heavens. Only two cherubim are shown here, holding him up by his arms. On the left is an angel looking upon him, the angle of its gaze helping push the focus of the piece upward. Raphael creates an all-inclusive scene of Ezekiel's vision, each character's placement exactly where they fit best, and an onlooker immediately understanding the message Raphael gives. There is something incredibly poignant about the symbols Ezekiel receives totally supporting him into the light, each character integrated with focus to their true meaning as well as their aesthetic value.

Masaccio, Tribute Money, 1427

A chronologically skewed narrative, Masaccio’s Tribute Money depicts the Gospel according to Luke, specifically, the catching of the dry fish and its aftermath. With Jesus’ forehead as the vanishing point, the eye is drawn straight to the center, where the initial miracle begins. Jesus tells Peter, a helpless fisherman amidst a drought, that with one more casting of his net, he will catch a fish. Following this miracle, a tax collector arrives, demanding the funds of Christ. To Peter, Jesus poses the question, "From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes—from their own children or from others?" Peter argues for the exemption from taxes for the son a God, but Jesus sends him to the river. Peter catches a fish, and from its mouth collects Jesus’ tax. Heeding his redeemer, Peter goes to the river once again (portrayed on the left side of the composition) finds a coin in the fish’s mouth, and pays the tax collector on the right side of the composition.

Though generally barren and indicative of the drought described in the book of Luke, the strong vertical trees behind Jesus show at least scant signs of life. The gothic architecture on the right serves to provide viewer with a structured, regal, setting for the tax collector’s portion of the narrative. Seeming to disappear into a mountain, the building creates a barrier for the only non-religious member of the story portrayed.

Evident in the shadows, lighting, and drapery, Masaccio’s mastery of character drawing proves almost detrimental, had he not added halos. So realistic, Masaccio’s figures seem almost too lifelike to be holy. The meticulous placement of halos keeps the beings realistic, but frankly indicates their religious status. Jesus’ half-circle halo has been interpreted by scholars as a mathematical tribute to Jesus’ wisdom and power. A three-part story, Masaccio depicts one of Christ’s most obscure miracles with a clearly separated composition.

Raphael, Three Graces, 1503

In history, the three attendants of goddesses - Euphrosyne, Thalia, and Aglaea, known as the three Graces - have been interpreted in various ways. Generally, they are considered to represent the three aspects of generosity: giving, receiving, and returning gifts; or the three phases of love: beauty, desire, and fulfillment; or the three virtues: faith, hope and charity, as the Church claimed; or the personification of chastity, beauty, and love. One thing for certain is since ancient Greece, the Three Graces are usually depicted in the same manner: the two outer figures facing the spectator and the central figure facing away.

Raphael painted this fairly small masterpiece (only 17cm by 17cm) when he was barely twenty. Many believe that the panel and another of his works, The Knight's Dream, together may have formed a single diptych. In The Knight's Dream, Scipio, the sleeping knight, must choose between Venus (pleasure) and Minerva (virtue); and the Three Graces reward his choice of virtue with the Golden Apples of the Hesperides.

The composition reflects the classical idea of symmetry and balance. The middle figure centers the panel vertically and the landscape in the background gives the work its horizontal. Each Grace connects the other two, while contemplating her own idealized, spherical apple, which forms a sense of geometrical beauty. Dominated by great harmony, the three nude women figures transmit a sense of classical beauty rather than a sexual temptation, as we often see in the work of his contemporaries, such as Botticelli and Michelangelo. It may be due to the fact that the Three Graces are not based on living models, but on the classical sculpture group in Siena. It may also be as the influence of his peaceful, intellectual, middle-class family background. Raphael's work may not be as passionate as Michelangelo, as lively as Botticelli, or as mysterious as Leonardo, but his calmness, pensiveness and orthodox intellectual style make him one of the greatest artists not only in Renaissance, but also throughout history.

Andrea Mantegna, San Zeno Altarpiece, 1459

Regarded as the first acceptable example of Renaissance Art in Italy, The San Zeno Altarpiece is located in the Basilica de San Zeno in Verona. Mantegna used this piece to further experiment with perspective. Since the commissioner of the piece, Abbot Gregorio Correr, assigned to Mantegna the saints that were to surround the enthroned Madonna, Mantegna used other aspects of the painting to create an altarpiece that resembled the art he had been studying.

Using a trompe-l'oeil technique, Mantegna created illusions forcing the eye to see his impressive perspective of the room. He accomplished this by painting the life-like fruit that hangs from the top of the canvas. This technique not only helps to frame the work properly, but also helps to draw the eye though the room and to the detail in the shadows that helps give the work depth. The frame work done by the hanging fruit accompanied with the diagonal lines drawn by the saints to Madonna all set the stage for the beautiful Madonna and Child. 

In between the garnish on the top, we notice a lit candle which symbolizes the presence of God, or the light of God if you will. This light flows down through the middle canvass and brightens the Madonna and Child as well as the playful angels that surround them. These angels are painted in a more humanistic light to display the growing humanistic traits in the 15th century. They are also chanting and singing to the baby Jesus and Madonna. helping to glorify the moment and the presence of God. 

The top three canvases remain at the Basilica de San Zeno, where you can see San Zeno painted on the far left with a gold cloak over him. But the bottom three canvasses that display Jesus' prayer at the Mount of Olives, the crucifixion, and the resurrection are now copies that hang in the altarpiece. The originals were purchased by the Louvre in 1797 and have remained in France since then. The frame of the altarpiece was also thought to be designed by him because of the fruit pieces and the classic detail. Aside from the missing pieces, this work remains a symbol of one of the first great Renaissance art pieces in Italy. 

Donatello, Habakkuk, 1425

Donatello's Habakkuk, often known as Pumpkinhead, was the eighth of twelve minor prophets in the Old Testament of the Bible. As Habakkuk's self-titled book reveals next to nothing about the prophet himself, Donatello took some artistic license while rendering Habakkuk's form. Donatello departed from the traditional  way of portraying prophets and other significant biblical figures as perfectly handsome, relatively young men. Instead, Donatello created a more realistic version of the eighth prophet, one thin and tired from fasting and devotion to God.

This sculpture acquired its nickname, Pumpkinhead, from the oddly proportioned head that Donatello gave to the prophet. The problem corrects itself, however, when viewed from the position that the sculpture was originally designed for. Donatello customized each of his sculptures, keeping in mind the perspective that the viewer would have, and adjusting the proportions accordingly. What at first appears to be an error, upon a closer inspection, reveals yet another level of Donatello's genius.

The skillfully crafted drapery tells of the muscular form beneath, and Habakkuk's posture and expression give the sculpture a sense of weariness and age. Habakkuk has obviously persevered through trial and persecution alike, and his form, although thinned by time, won't be giving up anytime soon.

Piero Della Francesca, The Dream of St. Jerome, 1455

Benozzo Gozzoli, Journey of the Magi, 1459

Gozzoli painted this fresco for the Medici Palace in Florence, and it's meant to picture the journey of the three wise men to Bethlehem, on their way to visit the newborn Jesus. Upon closer inspection, however, you might find some discrepancies with this. The clothing resembles, instead of traditional biblical attire, clothing of the modern age. Gozzoli went to great lengths to incorporate the Medici family into his work, painting in family members and using their faces as prototypes for the kings themselves.

The fresco actually spans three different walls in the Medici Palace, one for each king. This one features the youngest king. It has been speculated that he is meant to resemble Lorenzo Il Magnifico, but Lorenzo was, at the time, not more than ten years old and hence not able to be painted in. Cosimo de Medici's elderly figure sits atop the brown mule, the mule crowned with shining gold harnesses to separate him from the crowd. Gozzoli did a self-portrait in the third row, and is signified by his hat, which has his name on it. The castle in the background, meant to be Jerusalem, bears a resemblance to one of the Medici's villas.

The procession crowds the painting, and the perspective isn't entirely correct, but the piece features some improvements from the paintings of the pre-renaissance era. The trees and undergrowth depart from the unrealistic Giotto style, and, although still a far cry from complete accuracy, seem much more realistic than before.

Gozzoli's work doesn't necessarily come close to perfection, but it takes a step in the right direction.

Donatello, Mary Magdalene, 1454-55

Mary Magdalene depicts a story of a woman who was a strong disciple of Christ. According to the Bible, Magdalene was a "woman of sin." In which her story dictates of her being saved from seven demons. After becoming a passionate follower of Christ, she became a role model for other female followers. At one point Magdalene refused to eat, she intended to rely on "heavenly nourishment" alone, which is why Donatello captured her with sunken, corpse-like eyes.

Donatello's attention to detail in this wood carving is astonishing, with every single drape of her dress and twist in her hair looks like it is dripping right off her. Magdalene's rugged body, brings back the idea of her only consuming heavenly nourishment. If one were to look at her face, she expresses a need for one last bite of heavenly nourishment which instills her loyalty to Christ.

Through Donatello's attention to detail comes along the striking humanistic qualities. Donatello goes as far as to carve her broken teeth poking out through dehydrated lips. What my eyes were drawn to were her eyes. The eyes are carved with an iris. Her head is pointing down, but her eyes remain looking up.

This portrait of Mary Magdalene is unlike any other done. Other works show her as a beautiful woman, with long blonde hair and fit. However, in other renditions, her eyes are all looking up, or at Christ himself. Donatello's version shows a different side of her, one that exemplifies her true passion for Christ.

Piero Della Francesca, Resurrection, 1463-65

Masaccio, The Holy Trinity, 1425-1427

Five hundred years before Nick Romano, the Italian painter Masaccio lived by his motto - live fast, die young, and leave a pretty... fresco. His body of work is relatively small, since he died early at the age of twenty-eight. However, his paintings had an undeniable influence on other artists on his time and beyond. He mastered the relatively new technique of linear perspective and moved toward a more naturalistic style, creating truly beautiful and detailed frescoes.
Jesus is shown crucified, with God standing behind him, underneath a barrel vault that appears to extend back into the wall. Before him stand Mary and St. John, then two kneeling donors at a slightly lower level. Scholars disagree as to who the two may be; they belong to either the Lenzi family or the Berti. The figures are roughly human height and slightly above eye level, forcing the viewer to look up towards the promise of salvation. Directly at eye level is a memento mori, a skeletal reminder of our own mortality, with the not-so-subtle inscription "I once was what you are and what I am you also will be" carved above.

The limited palette of blues, reds, and greys, combined with the images of death and crucifixion, bears down relentlessly on the viewer, impressing upon them a sense of hopelessness. The tomblike arch of the background, unique among paintings with similar themes from the time, further encloses the scene. Other works depicting the Trinity were set outdoors, in rolling fields, or on a flat gold-leaf field. Little documentation exists on the creation of this haunting fresco, leaving the circumstances of its commission a mystery. What is known is that Masaccio died soon after, in 1428, and many of his frescos were damaged or destroyed in the interim. Only four surviving frescoes can be conclusively attributed to him.

Leonardo da Vinci, Drapery Study: Kneeling Woman, 1477

I would like to draw your attention to the drapery on this piece. Notice the way the cloak folds over itself and the shadowing in between the fabric’s crevices - absolutely brilliant da Vinci. The cloth also gives the viewer a sense of her form. Her kneeling stature can be discerned beneath the layer of clothing the artist has given her. Ah, but here lies the most interesting part. Follow the curve of her back up towards the top of the painting. Do you notice something odd about da Vinci’s masterpiece? Do not think about it too hard. It will come to you.

Dark Side of the Moon, 1973, Pink Floyd

Fra Angelico, Man of Sorrows, 1443

Now, I'm no expert on Jesus paintings, but Man of Sorrows by Fra Angelico has got to be one of the cooler ones out there. For once it wasn't the content or message of the work that drew my attention, but rather the boldfaced weirdness of it all. The use of black in the background is startling, especially given the ambiguity that surrounds its context. Is that the night sky, or a metaphorical space in which the scenes of the Passion of Christ may be displayed?

The scenes themselves borrow elements from Fra Angelico's other works that line the walls of the San Marco. Incredibly detailed and surreally arranged in the negative space, the scenes do not seem to adhere to any particular pattern or linear story. Rather they seek to evoke an emotion. They tell the story of Christ's betrayal and crucifixion in fragments: The Judas kiss, the nails used to crucify Jesus, the payment of 30 silver pieces to Judas Iscariot, the taunting of Christ. It is also notable that the work depicts an empty cross, with two streaks of blood running from the nails, still stuck fast into the wood.

In portraying the resurrection of Christ in this way, Fra Angelico seeks to portray a triumphant portrait, praising the Man of Sorrow for the trials he faced. As modern viewers, whether we buy the biblical story or not, at the very least we should find a sense of victory in the piece: an ultimate sacrifice for a cause outside of the self.

Donatello, David, 1430-1440

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. 

Leonardo Da Vinci, Madonna of the Rocks, 1506

Perhaps the artist most known by the average citizen, Leonardo Da Vinci has made himself renowned for Mona Lisa and The Last Supper. I considered him overrated and more often than not, scoffed at the praises sung at his Mona Lisa. Frankly, I don't see anything as fascinating about her smile as the other do. It's a nice, tight-lipped smile,  great, now let's move on to the next painting.

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.

Fra Filippo Lippi, Adoration in the Forest, 1459

A funny thing about this piece is that Hitler banned it during World War II, adding it to his rather extensive "Degenerate Art" list, which usually only included modern art. However, this work was deemed "un-German." If Lippi hadn't been dead for half a century, I'm sure he would have been offended, as Hitler would have also forbidden him to produce any more art - ever.

Lippi's piece, Adoration in the Forest, painted for Cosimo de Medici, gives a non-traditional interpretation of the Nativity. The composition is dark and leaves out the usual parts of a Nativity scene, such as Joseph, the shepherds, the kings, and the ox. Lippi's emphasis on the characters in his work pulls not only from their spatial relation in the painting, but also from the brilliant light he gives them in such contrast to the dark woods around them. This contrast continues with a defined linear perspective softened by pastel colors in the clothes and skin tones. He adds some elements of humanism to his characters' faces, God himself personified in all his glory, actual wings spreading out behind him.

Fra Filippo divides the piece rather symmetrically among the Trinity, with the Holy Spirit's ray of blessed light tracing all the way down to baby Jesus. It gives such power to the baby, such light emanating from him, but it also draws the eye upwards to God, who looks down upon them all. The ray itself matches with the tree trunks, slicing through the dark background that still, somehow, give some room for the scene. But he also literally divides the piece with the ground cracked down the middle. He also depicts chopped-down trees in a row behind Mary, lining up perfectly with the forest behind her. The forest seems to almost wrap around the scene, especially with the characters shown off-center. Jesus rests upon a grassy knoll, surrounded by flowers and life.

Mary's gaze really gets me here. Her face has such delicate care for the Christ-child, but her expression is also somber, perhaps even morose, which complicates the emotions usually so simplistically portrayed in a Nativity piece. Her robe lacks movement and fluidity, the usual curves of cloth instead stiffened. The angle of her jawline and her gaze trace directly to Jesus, much like God's. A rather youthful Saint John, with his signature staff, steals the show by looking directly at the viewer with no focus upon the baby at all. Fra Filippo depicts a different side of the Nativity, adding some mystery and room for interpretation to the piece with his complex iconography of the Trinity, the Virgin, and Saint John.

Bennozzo Gozzoli, Journey of the Magi, Kelsey Thorp