My Kid Could Paint That

Pieter Bruegel. The Peasant Wedding, 1567

BY HARPER TRUOG

Parties and family gatherings have hardly changed since the 1500s. People crowd onto tables and hands pass platters of food up and down the rows. The house starts out clean, but there is no hope of keeping it that way, and meager decorations hang on the walls. Loud chatter fills the room and even the seated bodies move with expressive gestures. Stories are retold and passed down the table with laughter following close behind. Children clean their plates and lick their sticky hands while an adult refills his glass even if he should not. The food keeps coming out of the kitchen like a parade. Someone brings out the dessert and everyone is eager for a bite.
Bruegel's figures are proportional and busy with movement. No person stands stiffly against a wall and the movement gives the sense of a lively celebration. He uses earthy tones like browns and greens with splashes of red to add contrast. The red draws the eye to the musician, the people carrying the tray of bowls, and the child's hat in the bottom left corner.

Bruegel showed a commoner's wedding in 1567, but many people today do things during parties that were done back then. When celebrating, humans gather with loved ones, eat an abundance of food, and listen to music or stories. Bruegel displays peasants having a good time and filling the house. The tables are full, but there is a crowd lined up out the door, which shows a plethora of good company. These peasants are not rich, but they have a fulfilling celebration with what they have.

By MEGAN GANNON

By REID GUEMMER

Sofonisba Anguissola is one of the first female painters. In her youth she learned from the masters, Michelangelo and da Vinci. Since she did not have other women as influences, she drew influence from Campi, Correggio, and Gatti. Eventually, she became the influence.

Since the field was limited for women, Anguissola specialized in portraiture. Her father encouraged her and her sisters to paint. Her father was not an artist, but he sought out the best artists at the time to teach her. She mastered her craft, because she didn't have to worry about creating academic works.

Bronzino painted many portraits for the Medici family and worked as the court painter. The Medici family was rich and powerful in Florence, Italy at the time. Bronzino painted portraits with fine detail and extravagant clothing. The majority of his works are portraits of the Medici family and other members of the rich, ruling class. Bronzino only has a handful of mythological or religious paintings to his name.

This portrait is of Cosimo de' Medici, the head of the family.  Medici wanted a painting that showed not only his physical strength, but the strength of his rule. The light reflecting in the armor gives the metal a sense of reality and hardiness. The portrait is of Cosimo de' Medici as a young man to enhance the assertive image. The Medici family had just regained power in Florence after they had gotten rid of a Spanish garrison who had taken control. This painting was a message to anyone who doubted the power and fortitude of the Medici family.

Bronzino's figures are described as elegant yet stagnant.  No matter the content, the people in Bronzino's paintings show little emotion.  Instead, he focused most of his energy on the details of the clothing and other objects to bring them to life.  Bronzino's static style of painting was admired by the elite, and so they gave him many commissions.  His works influenced European portrait painting for many years.

Teatro Olimpico, Vicenza Italy, 1580-1585

By SAI GONDI

The roughness of the brush strokes and his dark color choices always gives me the chill whenever I look at his work. Tintoretto was his name and he was one of many painters that have influenced the world of art by sharing new ideas and techniques. Tintoretto has always been competitive and eager to become the best artist out of everyone.

Last Supper, which was the painting that was completed a few years before his death, became incredibly well known out of his other Last Supper series. With complex but flowing compositions and dim color choices, it feels as if each individuals are constantly moving.

Tintoretto experimented compositions and focused on individualization. People in his painting were dramatic and full of emotions just as if it was happening at the moment, just like Last Supper which feels crowded but at the same time pleasing to the eye. However, as time passed by Tintoretto's style takes a huge turn, mainly in color choices. His paintings began bright and silky but as he's eyesight slowly faded away, the colors became dark and dull. Although his colors have dimmed, the expressions and its intriguing composition never failed to impress people.  

Parmigianino, the Mannerist painter from Parma, Italy, got his start doing small commissions in his hometown for churches and in homes. This mural in the Castle of Fontanellato of Diana and Actaeon from Ovid's Metamorphoses is a prime example of the soon-to-be classic's early work. The painting covers the entire upper-half of the room, including the ceiling. It depicts the goddess Diana discovering Actaeon watching her bathe, and then turning him into a stag as consequence. Ironically, the story goes that Actaeon was next attacked by his own hunting dogs, who did not recognize their master. (Moral of the story: don't walk around in the woods or you may find a naked goddess, leading to your death?)

While the bodies and painting itself is not done with the upmost detail or precision, Parmigianino is crafting his own style that would later become "Mannerism." Later in the same year that he completed Diana and Actaeon, Parmigianino traveled to Rome to seek fame, which he did.

However, Parmigianino's short career was challenged by his inability to finish a commission after starting it. Instead of working on the canvas itself, he would sketch dozens of drawings in his notebook. Unsatisfied by his progress or the finished product, Parmigianino would rework and resketch the paintings until content with his art. Often this process took years, causing many patrons to find work elsewhere and give the commissions to another artist.

In one instance, Parmigianino was hired by a nobleman to paint his vault. Though, in classic Parmigianino fashion, he took his time and could not make any substantial progress whatsoever. As months went by, the patron grew frustrated by the painter's snail pace. Eventually, the aristocrat's patience expired, and he had Parmigianino arrested for taking too long.

A year after being jailed and then bailed out by a loyal patron and an architect, Parmigianino died in Casalmaggiore, Italy in recluse at the age of 37n. Today, few of his paintings of his survive because of their untraceability and the fact that Parmigianino completed but a handful works. Despite the small quantity of existing paintings, his style influenced other painters who would build off of what he started: Mannerism.

Italian architect and sculptor, Jacopo Sansovino (1486 - 1570) paved his own way producing works that rivaled Michelangelo and Palladio. Some of his most famous pieces include the three main building of the Palazzo San Marco (the public mint, the library, and basilica). Young Jacopo with the encouragement of his mother soon became apprentice for Andrea Sansovino. As a result of Andrea's great influence upon on Jacopo, he adopts his last name. 

At first glance, this painting raises a lot of questions. Primarily, why is Jesus in a dress and where can I get that dress? It's adorable. Well, reader, you're definitely on the right track. But this crucifix, unlike almost every other crucifix I've ever seen, does not actually feature Jesus Christ himself. There's no Virgin Mary or Mary Magdalene, just an amazing, bearded, folk-princess turned saint with one of the most interesting stories in the Catholic tradition.

It was originally believed that this painting depicted Saint Julia, another female crucified saint, but upon further research and examination of the painting, art historians now mostly agree that this particular Bosch altarpiece is centered around Saint Liberata. Also known as Wilgefortis, Kummernis,  Uncumber, or Livrade, we can be fairly sure that Liberata's story originates as a popular folk tale. Legend says she was one of nine daughters of a Portuguese King who also happened to be pagan. Liberata was Christian and had vowed a life of chastity to further her faith. However, ignoring her wishes, her father made a deal with the pagan King of Sicily to have her hand in marriage. Distraught by the idea of breaking her vows and being wed to someone she perceived to be a heathen, Liberata prayed that she might find a way out of the marriage. So God delivered her full, bushy facial hair. And it worked. The King of Sicily was so appalled he immediately called off the wedding. Although Liberata had won for the time being, she did not have long to celebrate. Her father was so infuriated by the end of his daughter's engagement that he had her crucified.

It's fairly easy to pick out this painting as a Bosch. Though it lacks his signature unfocused landscape of fantastical and horrifying creatures, his trademarks are still there in the figures, composition, and background. For one, the painting split in thirds is true to his style. Not unlike The Garden of Earthly Delights, one third is quite hellish, one more earthly, and one more indicative of heaven. Starting on the left, the panel of hell, we see cloaked Saint Anthony deep in meditation, surrounded by all manor of curious monsters, including a dwarf man wielding a sword. The city before him is aflame, blazing with the frightening realism with which Bosch typically paints fire. It is dark and covered in browns and reds. It's all destruction. On the far right, we see a monk leading a soldier or an executioner. On the beach below them a man hunts a small animal, unaware of another armed man attempting to take his life from behind. Further still, a group of people drag a whale to shore. The twisty ship and lumpy buildings show Bosh's more typical whimsy. This confusing duality, the mix between good, evil, and nature, suggests to me that this is the earth panel. This leaves the center panel to be the heavenly one. After all, what is more heavenly in the Catholic church than a martyr?

By far the most vibrant part of this scene, the central panel subs earthy pastels for bright pinkish-reds and creams overlaying a vibrant blue background. Liberata on the crucifix splits the crowd. On the right are her opposition, including her father front and center, clearly without regret, gesturing to the cross as if to make a point about his dominance. To the left are her supporters, all reeling in various stages of horror and grief. Personally, I love this painting for the subversion of gender roles here. The female saint is martyred, looking up to heaven. In place of a stoic or grieving Virgin Mary or Mary Magdalene, her former fiancé has passed out cold at the sight of her, unable to handle his shock. Even while crucified, Liberata's body language suggests she is more welcoming of God's love than ever. While the men around her, the symbolic human beings are overcome by stubbornness, grief, and pride, she remains strong, open, and thoroughly holy. Beyond being an cool painting of a strong woman, it certainly makes a point about the foolishness of humanity.

Let's face it, Bosch is weird. But when you put away the initial impulse to reel back and instead lean into his work, you'll find that there's something beautiful and familiar in his depiction of the world. It may not be realistic in a traditional sense, but it shows the world more accurately in the way we feel it and imagine it to be. We've all had days where it seems like little monsters are running around prodding us at every turn, where very little makes sense, where the world appears so wild and unreal. The human psyche is a little crazy and Bosh of all people knows that. In this way, he was surrealist long before the beginning of that movement. He brings out the world of our dreams in a way we can relate to, so that we find that laughable humanity even in a religious crucifix.  Hieronymus Bosch may be a thoroughly freaky Dutchman, but I have to say, he was also a genius.

Hieronymus Bosch, Ascent of the Blessed, 1500-1504

By SAI GONDI 

Language is and always will be an essential part of human existence. Your first words are your entry fee to the world and with them you begin to build your life.

Genesis 11.1-9, the inspiration behind Bruegel's painting The Tower of Babel, recounts the origin of the diverse and numerous languages spoken around the world. The story goes something like this: after the great flood there was a group of people left who all spoke one language. All other languages were whiped out. This group decided to migrated eastward and build a tower tall enough to reach the heavens. Although God wasn't huge on this idea and to punish them he changed each of their known languages.

The technical aspects of the painting are just as interesting as the story itself. The movement of the building which spirals upwards only adds to the chaos of the scene. Bruegel had to have known a thing or two about architecture, for his work on the building is far too complex for him not to have.

As I was writing this, I sat by a man at a coffee shop reading the Bible. It made me wonder, if God is capable of such destruction why do people put such extreme amounts of faith in him? I have never been a particularly religious person, but I've always been intrigued by religion. I'm not sure the people of Babel meant to aggravate him by building the tower, it's entirely possible they just wanted to be closer to the man they admired. Although if God is capable of such destruction, he is also capable of the most amazing creations. Analyzing this painting only strengthened my confidence in my life philosophy; that everything works itself out at some point or another. In this story, God's destructive actions led to the creation of the vibrant cultures we see around the world today.

Bruegel brings to life winter in Netherland in Winter Landscape with Skaters and Bird Trap. This large-scale view of daily life in the world of the Northern Renaissance help us viewers better understand the cultures and influence of painters at the time. Through Bruegel's works we gain more knowledge about cultural influences, as well as social and economic status and religious influence for Bruegel and for the Northern Renaissance.

Bruegel often depicted peasants, humanizing them to the public eye and representing a group with less influence at the time. His most famous works show peasants working in fields, celebrating weddings, and daily living. This scene is no different. This painting, similar to Hunters in the Snow, shows activities in peasant villages during the winter. In the two winter scenes, Bruegel also shows the beautiful landscape, which grows more beautiful with the snow. Especially in Winter Landscape with Skaters and Bird Trap, the focus is on the landscape and architecture, rather than the people.

Bruegel rarely focuses on one subject. His paintings show many people doing many things. These scenes are sometime chaotic, but Bruegel's intense detail allows in depth analysis of these works. Once broken down, viewers have a better sense of Bruegel's influences and peasant life. Unlike some of the works that are chaotic, the two winter scenes are calm. Maybe it is the weather or the cool colors that create this calmness. In paintings such as Children's Games and Netherlandish Proverbs, the high density of people and warm colors create movement and tension within the frame. The two winter scenes have less people and less chaotic activities, allowing the viewers the breathe.

My favorite parts of Winter Landscape with Skaters and Bird Trap are the trees and roofs covered in snow. I also like how the skaters follow down the winding, iced-over river and the almost mystical fog in the background. Even though Bruegel is more famous for his chaotic scenes with Bosch's influence, I am drawn to the serenity and coolness in Winter Landscape with Skaters and Bird Trap. 

Composition-wise,  Parable of the Blind is a clear example of Bruegel stylistic tones and subject choices. His earthy color choices and painting techniques give a humanistic realism to the scene. He painted so that his people seem to be stepping lightly and that the entire painting is slightly translucent and light. Bruegel's composition has the line of blind men cutting diagonally across painting in the foreground. Bruegel places the Sint-Anna Church in the background and, true to Bruegel's previous compositions, has a faded horizon deep into the painting. 

Despite the religious influences of the painting, Bruegel still maintains the human empathy and feeling he is known for. Bruegel emphasizes the people, rather than the religious aspects of the painting by placing the church in the background. The painting features a scene taken from the Bible, from the Gospel of Matthew 15:14. Jesus explains, "Leave them; they are blind guides. If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit."  He uses accurate depictions of the blind in his artwork, through use of different afflictions for the figures, their use of poles, and their body language. Each of the figures has a different eye problem, including removed eyes, atrophy of globe, and corneal leukoma. Their faces are tilted upward, to make better use of their other senses, like smell. Bruegel brings to life the chosen passage from the Bible with his color choices, composition, and realistic aspects of the passage.

Previously I only knew of Brueghel through his paintings of peasant life, winter wonderlands, and golden fields. Although now I realize Brueghel was much more than a peasant painter. He captured not only his moments in history, but also the human condition. Yes, the human condition is not anything new or revolutionary, but the way in which Brueghel tackles it, particularly through his adaptations of proverbs is something quite remarkable. 

The outer panels of perhaps Bosch's most famous painting depicts a scene utterly different from the contents inside. This monochromatic green-gray scale directly contrasts the vibrant green, blue, and pink innards as does the lack of humans and creatures. The only figure seen is God on the upper left corner next to the quotation “For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm” (Psalm 33.9).

Leading theories suggest that these outside panels are a view of the third day of Earth when land, plants, and foliage were created. This argument makes a lot of sense chronologically (according to the Bible) as the inside illustrations follow the linear story of the creation of man in the Garden of Eden, man's temptation to evil, and then finally Hell itself. Additionally, there is no evidence of the Sun, moon, or stars, which were created on the Fourth day. The title The Garden of Earthly Delights complements this suggestion in a witty fashion; the "Garden" being the previously mentioned Eden or perhaps the land that God created, and "Delights" being man's ecstasy from lust and greed.

I chose the exterior of this chef d'oeuvre because of how Bosch applied his style to such an uncharacteristic subject. Also, by how drastically different it is compared to any of his other works: there is not a single creature or ungodly monstrosity, nor any vibrant color pops.

Bosch teases to the interior of this painting and past works of his through the surreal plants and landmarks on the Earth. In a way, Bosch plays God my making his own semi-disturbing version of the Bible story and by creating his own planet. Bosch does not hold back in this painting. It is so technically beautiful and skillful and yet also so thought provoking and open to interpretation, which makes this piece so prolific and admired. By making the outer panels so simplistic, he ingeniously compliments his own work and creates a welcoming image that unfolds into this delightful/nightmarish world.