My Kid Could Paint That

Brunelleschi, Florence Cathedral, 1418

Florence decided it needed a large cathedral, not to rival Rome, of course, who would do such a thing? Merely, to have a place in which its citizens could worship. It just so happened that the cathedral they were building required a dome with a 143 feet diameter and if it happened to be larger than the Pantheon, well, whose coming to Florence anyway? The only problem was no man was brave enough to complete the task without fear of his plan collapsing. So in 1418 a competition was held to decide who would put their name on the line to create one of the most monumental features in all of Florence. The winner was a cocky, irritable clock maker named Filippo Brunelleschi, whose arrogance was matched only by his skill.

Brunelleschi’s idea was to create a dome with an octagonal lantern with eight flying buttresses and eight arched windows. Brunelleschi invented numerous devices to even begin the construction, which involved hoisting over 70 million pounds of material hundreds of feet in the air. The most common way of building a dome in the 1400s was to support is with scaffolding called “centing,” but because of the large, open area inside the cathedral, the citizens wanted something large and noticeable. There was not enough wood in all of Northern Italy to build scaffolding large enough to support the dome the Florentines wanted. So, Brunelleschi decided to create a dome that supported itself as it was built. The dome would occupy most of Brunelleschi’s life, but also serve as his proudest achievement.

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Gustave Klimt, Avenue of Schloss, 1912

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Giovani Paolo Panini, Musical Fête, 1747

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Raphael, School of Athens, 1509-1511

By now we've fully covered the concept of space and perspective. But what Raphael does within School of Athens is quite different, which propelled it to its popularity. Raphael does not solely focus on the architecture, but depicts philosophers and authors of the time. Center stage we find Plato and Aristotle discussing the difference between idealistic world-views and the greater concern with the real world. The scene itself has become iconic, brought up commonly within philosophy classes and even making its way into pop culture as the inspiration for alternative band Alt-J's music video for Tessellate. And while the subjects are done well and cleverly, the architecture behind these great minds stands tall, towering over them. For in the end, the building will last longer, outliving all of them. Its beauty remaining for future generations to see.

Raphael widens the space he was restricted to working in, making the work seem larger than its true size. He not only increases the size, but also extends it further back creating even greater depth. One indication as to the talent and genius of Raphael, are the gaps Raphael places between the barrel arches. He's creating a more complex image by doing so, separating the perspective, almost vertical, lines with horizontal ones. He does this in sets of three. This not only creates more space, but more appealing space, while also allowing the sky to peek through. It's successful because of the way he utilizes color and shadow, capturing how light plays off the walls and columns.

This painting made its way into this collection, like other paintings, for its attention to detail. Raphael became a classical master because of this painting. With this statement, I am not saying his other work lacks talent but rather this painting has so much of it in one space it has become his most remembered. Both symbolic and executed well, Raphael's complexity creates a work that the viewer could analyze for hours.

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Peter Bruegel, Tower of Babel, 1553

Peter Bruegel has been the most influential artist on how I view art. This painting relates directly to Paul Auster's City of Glass, which we read in our AP Literature class and concerns itself with the issues of identity and purpose. The Tower of Babel plays a role in the narrative of this novel with the fall of language, stating that our language has lost its meaning. While this may be the case, Bruegel speaks with a universal language of color, inserting light blues, yellows, and reds within the painting to give it that burst of presence from the stretching horizon of green. The beauty of this painting is the chaos that takes place as these workers attempt to construct this monstrosity. The viewer could lose themselves within the minute details of Bruegel's work.

I have chosen to write over The Tower of Babel as our fourth painting as we analyze architecture because of its creativity. Bruegel produced this from his imagination. Sure he probably was inspired by the Roman Colosseum, but still, to produce this intricate world of workers that live on this building like bacteria inspires my creativity. The viewer can see the process of how the construction is taking place as most of the top is left exposed. Also the levels of the tower as they progress differ in the style of arches. What the painting attempts to instruct, in my mind, is the concept of being able working with others effectively as well as narrowing in on an idea. That no matter how great the idea is, if it's to big of an idea, your infrastructure is at risk of collapsing.

Bruegel is truly a master. Just look at how he produces the stones in the foreground and the sprawling landscape. The time he invests into getting all the details right. The coast and the ships proportionally correct. This imaginary world invites the viewer as it utilizes the majority of the canvas with interesting subjects to analyze. While it's only a two-dimensional picture, even with the paint you still feel that sensation of  "Wow." Gazing at this structure the mind still wanders off. Its nearly impossible not to think of something from this painting. The depth Bruegel is able to produce with his use of shadows brings the painting to a semi-real state of being, we begin to believe the narrative Bruegel is telling us. That's what makes him and this painting great. The fact that we can lose ourselves within it, and while all art does that to some degree, Bruegel makes it effortless.

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Johannes Vermeer, The Little Street, 1657

Our next stop on the use of architecture within paintings covers the idea of material and sustainability. A large detail that decides the structure of a building is its material. Choosing this, the architect must take into consideration the location and weather so that the building will not be at risk of collapsing due to infrastructure complications. The use of brick has been the longest and strongest building material used around the world, its first appearance in Europe found in Greece during the twelve century. During the Baroque period, beginning around the year 1600, exposed brick went out of popularity. Brick work was instead covered with plaster. Brick was often the material of choice for economic and time reasons.

Vermeer is truly a master with the brush. His paintings contain such a level of detail that from a distance his work could be confused with photographs. The style which he paints this home, varies between thick application on the shutters, to the dabbing on the brick where the canvas peeks through in certain spots. The Little Street is a little painting that depicts a common place building in Delft. While the painting is quite famous, little is actually known about it. Whether this building ever existed is still disputed to this day as art historians attempt to trace back through history. Regardless of its actual location, the building appears worn down by time and weather. Uncharacteristic for Vermeer, who mostly painted portraiture,  produced a painting within the city he had recently painted before hand, A View of Delft.

Besides the incredible portrayal of detail, Vermeer captures the beauty of the common wealth home. The way he layers the homes behind this sturdy structure in the foreground. The main building provides a sense of security and durability. As an art history student, I know that dogs normally mean loyalty. This building has been relied on and will continue to be trusted because this is not a wealthy part of town. Without the money to erect glamorous Baroque buildings people relied on these brick homes. The growing plant on the left is a reminder that architecture, especially now, has to coexist with nature and be aware of its presence.  But in terms of the time period this was painted in, the plant stands for this working class part of town, full of life.

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Tintoretto, Finding the Body of St. Mark, 1562-66

Perspective surrounds us even though we are not constantly acknowledging it. That's because it's naturally happening around us. By moving our eyes in relation to objects, we see different angles and sides that our mind processes into an understanding of depth. When perspective is applied to drawings and paintings, we immediately recognize it presence because its fabricated. The artist is creating a three-dimensional space within two-dimensional surface. With this conversion our minds register space differently. We see the illusion of depth and space when in reality, its purely the manipulation of a subject's size on the canvas. When an artist attempts to fool the viewer's eye, the accuracy of lines leading to the vanishing point becomes crucial. Any mistake could throw off the space. The painter becomes the illusionist  attempting you to believe in the images you see with the use of his paint and brush strokes.

After discussing St. Marks Library, I decided to continuing our exploration of structures within art with  this Tintoretto and its use of perspective. Finding the Body of St. Mark is one of four in a series pertaining to St. Mark. What Tintoretto does so well here is accurately producing the space these subjects live within. Through the checkered floor pattern to the hallways columns and balconies, Tintoretto opens up this intimate moment that's producing chaos and panic within the subjects. As a one-point perspective composition, the lines all lead not only to the paintings vanishing point but to the paintings light source. This trap door emits a light that floods the hallway with a dramatic layer of gold, exaggerated by the lines Tintoretto drew in.

While Tintoretto was able to accomplish a successful sense of space through perspective, the subjects fall short. Several of them appear transparent. He spent so much time getting the setting recorded accurately that his figures lack sufficient amounts of paint to separate themselves from the checkered floor pattern. Despite this Tintoretto creates beauty with balance and color. As a viewer you sense of urgency of the moment as St. Mark lies cold on the floor. The shadows and orange emissions create a scene of both pain and beauty.

Structure and Paintings
Analyzing Architecture and Perspective within Paintings
Curated by Max Cantu-Lima

Pt. I: Procession into St. Marks Square

Gentile Bellini, Procession into St. Mark's Square, 1496

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, St. Peter's Baldachin, 1623-34

In 1623 the Basilica of St. Peter was vastly under-decorated. The golden ceilings, tapestries, paintings, murals, sculptures, altars, and carvings were nice to look at, sure, but they didn't give the church the class that the Papacy was looking for. And so it came to pass that Pope Urban VIII, sick of worshipping in such a destitute chapel, ordered Gian Lorenzo Bernini to begin work on a marker for St. Peter's resting place. Something nice and flashy that would pull the room together, like a favorite rug might. So began the plans for St. Peter's Baldachin. 

Detail of St. Peter's Baldachin: columns and canopy

The first problem that faced Bernini was creating a structure large enough to fill the space under the giant dome of the Basilica. He responded by fighting fire with fire, and built the canopy 95 feet high. In order to build the structure to such a massive height, Bernini and his benefactors were forced to borrow materials - especially bronze - from older, less interesting creations like the Pantheon. So much bronze was scavenged from the city's architecture that the people of Rome began to whisper quod non fecerunt barbari, fecerunt Barberini, or "what the barbarians did not do, the Barberini did." Truly, a reputation worth all the bronze in Europe. But at least the beautiful, twisted, Solomonic columns that called for all of the material were one of Bernini's finer ideas, right? Alas, even the idea was pillaged from an architect by the name of Carlo Maderno, who had drawn up a design of his own not long before Bernini was put on the job.

Detail of St. Peter's Baldachin: coat of arms

While some of what went into the construction of the Baldachin suggested that Bernini and his bosses were devoid of moral fibre, some of it showed a severe deficiency. The Baldachin is credited entirely to Bernini, scholars aren't entirely certain which parts of the structure he actually contributed to. The project marked the first time that Bernini acted as an administrative figure, rather than primary artist, giving way to an age of uncertainty regarding his works and their true authorship. Of course, artists have always had their assistants and apprentices, but its a practice rooted in a brand of ego found only in the department store of fame. And though the Baldachin bears St. Peter's name and marks his grave, Bernini made sure to cover it with the sigil of his very own patron saint, Urban VIII. The base of each of the columns has a carved Barberini coat of arms. What better way to ensure future employment than to memorialize your employer in stone?


And yet, despite all of my griping about the politics surrounding the piece, I cannot bring myself to dismiss it. How could I? Its soaring columns, dramatic statuary, and massive scale command the eye in a building already filled to the brim with beautiful decorum. And whatever kissing up Bernini may have done pales in comparison to the masterful planning and execution that went into the coats of arms. Each represents a stage in childbirth - from conception through delivery - in a tasteful, yet daring show of talent. Sure, the methods may have been questionable, but what the Barberini built, barbaric or not, no one else could have.

Michelozzo di Bartolomeo Michelozzi, Medici Palace,  1445-1460

Ulm Minster, 1377-1880

Originating in France during the High medieval period, Gothic architecture had begun to spread across Europe. Comprised of flying buttresses, pointed arches, and ribbed vaults, Gothic architecture is most commonly seen in Cathedrals, abbeys, and churches of Europe, such as the Ulm Minster in Ulm, Germany. Construction began in 1377 under Ulrich Ensingen. It’s Gothic style battled the popular Romanesque style that had already existed around Europe. Often known as a Cathedral due to its impressive size, but it was never seated by a bishop.

The Ulm Minster abandoned the symmetrical balance of a two-tower cathedral to a single spire and tower, which reached a height of 620ft. The spire was supposed to be shorter but the height was increased in the plans to surpass the Cologne Cathedral, also in Germany, which was the tallest building in the world from 1880-1884. The Ulm’s tower was designed in 1482 and the spire was constructed in the nineteenth century, when the use of cast iron could be implemented into the construction. It surpassed the Cologne Cathedral and became the tallest building in the world for 11 years, from 1890-1901.

In 1944 the town of Ulm was severely hit by air raids during World War II. The town suffered massive damage, nearly all the buildings in the town square were destroyed. Near the town square the Ulm minister suffered minimal damage. The spire standing and looking over the town to this day as one of Germany’s most visited landmarks.

Henri Labrouste, Bibliotheque Sainte-Genevieve, 1839-1842

Henri Labrouste’s architectural career was sparked, and consequently defined, with his first public commission, Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève. From 1839 to 1842 the architect worked methodically on his deign for what would signal a new movement in the architecture world at large – eclecticism. The building’s highly anticipated opening for public use occurred in 1851.