My Kid Could Paint That

John Singer Sargent, Madame X,  1884

Portrait of a Woman Scorned
The Fairer Sex Treated Not-So Fairly
Curated by Katherine Anderson

Amelie Gautreau was the epitome of Parisian society of the nineteenth century - designer gowns, a wealthy spouse, regular exotic vacations, and ties to the artistic community. Yet every person worth talking about at the time had a secret life other than her appearance, chock-full of affairs unknown to the public eye. Amelie was no exception to this, and for years she climbed the social ladder of Paris, one bed at a time. Her porcelain skin and unique features made Amelie the epitome of beauty, grace, and affluence that each woman coveted. Yet with the slip of a single strap, Amelie Gautreau became the shunned figure known as Madame X.

Portrait of a Woman Scorned
The Fairer Sex Treated Not-So Fairly
Curated by Katherine Anderson

Girl with a Pearl Earring, Johannes Vermeer, 1667

There's something fishy that happens to a piece of artwork when it surpasses superstardom. Let's use Ferris Bueller's Day Off as an example. Despite its clever pranks and existential advice, there's always this strange feeling of boredom when someone suggests to watch it. Not because it isn't good, but because it's overused. It's a common phenomenon with things like Coldplay, McDonald's hamburgers, and 30 Rock. The "cult following" of once-good things turns off any desire to enjoy them. The same thing happens with art. For example, the fact that Van Gogh's Starry Night pops up on every art-related greeting card or notebook cover makes any painting connoisseur moderately nauseous. Not because the painting lacks innovation and skill, but because somehow its mass production ruins it. Similarly, Johannes Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring has been deemed banal by its Hollywood fame.

Though Girl with a Pearl Earring gained its fame from a fictional love story between the artist and its subject, that doesn't mean we, as viewers, should discount the painting's merit. With the boldness of color and complex emotion, Vermeer's masterpiece deserves a place in the Dutch Golden Age's hall of fame. Girl with the Pearl Earring exemplifies the cunning portraiture of later movements too, clearly influencing the realism of the early nineteenth century. All in all, the worthiness of this painting supersedes the hype of its fictional backstory and exemplifies the pinnacle of artistic inspiration.

Portrait of a Woman Scorned
The Fairer Sex Treated Not-So Fairly
Curated by Katherine Anderson

Vigee Le Brun, Marie Antoinette and her Children,  1787.

Marie Antoinette started her career as France's leading lady with a bad reputation. As a meek Austrian princess trying to save her homeland's grace by marrying the heir to the French throne, Marie's actions were questioned by every soul in Europe. Why did Louis XVI want this girl when he could have any maiden across the globe? The answer: money.

The French government was already poor, and for a small donation from Austria, marrying Marie Antoinette was the least Louis could do. So, when Marie pranced off to bed with her various gigolos, just as every queen did at the time, the public refused to turn a blind eye. Her expensive taste only amplified the skepticism. Marie Antoinette was more scorned than Eve, for her actions on the throne were more despicable than eating a forbidden apple.

Thus, in a fit of shame, Queen Marie hired the esteemed painter, Vigee Le Brun, to fix her tarnished reputation. Instead of a scantily clad depiction of Marie in her sleeping quarters, as she was most commonly viewed in France, Le Brun illustrated a maternal homebody, cradling her treasured children as though she had no cares in the world aside from building her family. Her somewhat plain red frock portrays a practicality unseen by the French public, and her feathered hat asserts the power that Queen Marie Antoinette had over the French crown. Most importantly, Marie lacked the "bling" for which she was most notorious. Le Brun portrayed Marie Antoinette as an ordinary woman, wise and understanding of France's needs.

Despite the portrait's beauty, its irony infuriated the French public. Its lies spurred even more vengeance against the frivolous French monarchy, for the people were appalled at the monarchy's attempt to become more relatable through a gigantic, expensive portrait of the country's most shameful figurehead. No matter how nice or motherly Marie Antoinette could be, her reputation preceded her. The rule of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette would forever be a joke, filled with gluttony and disregard for the French people.

Member Dismemberment
A Look at Limbs 
Curated by Kate Sims

Gustave Caillebotte, Floor Scrapers, 1875

Member Dismemberment A Look at Limbs  Curated by Kate Sims

Goya, Third of May, 1814

It is not often that a Christ-like figure appears in front of a bale of hay with a half-dozen bayonets shoved down his throat. As a commission for the provisional government of Spain, Goya’s Third of May explores the tragedy of Spanish slaughter by Napoleon’s armies coupled with commemoration for their strong resistance. The Christ figure, a nameless man holding his arms and stigmatised hands open as if he were nailed to the cross, willingly faces his murderers. As the only subject facing outward, this man shows a mournful compassion toward his killers while standing up and taking the blame for his companions. These efforts prove fruitless as his inevitable death looms as corpses stack up around him. His un-heroic positioning, an unheard of technique, overturns conventional “beauty of hero” stereotypes, and strengthens the overall impact of the piece.

The executioners, by contrast, have lost all human qualities as their arms transform into gun barrels. Their extension of arms, close shooting proximity, and anonymity represent the corruption and metamorphosis from human to beast. Their careless slaughter and lack of proper disposal undercut the humanity of the victims. Goya strove to and captured the horrific nature of war with a lone christ figure, standing up to take the blame for his community. The arm in Goya’s Third of May serve two roles, to depict a man as a Christ figure and transform men into machines of war.

Member Dismemberment A Look at Limbs  Curated by Kate Sims

David, Oath of the Horatii, 1784

On the other hand, the sisters and mother are holding their heads in their hands or dropping their arms to their sides. Greif has overtaken their bodies and literally immobilized them. The women are the only ones allowed to feel emotion because they do not have heroic responsibilities. The stillness of these characters against a plain dull setting elevate the importance of the situation. The limbs in Oath of the Horatii display the mental and physical differences between men as the tragic heroes and women as the weaker sex.

Member Dismemberment

Michelangelo, The Creation of Adam, 1511

Not Your Average Female Portrait
Ways in which you wouldn't normally view a woman
Curated by Lily Johnston

David Hockney, The Photographer and His Daughter Jim and Chloe Mchugh, 2005

If you had put this painting in front of me without me ever having seen it, I would probably say "there is a creeper in the room." An older man gazes at a teenage girl who wears a flimsy dress. But he doesn't just gaze, I would even argue that he gawks. Hand on chin, camera ready for action, and reclining in a favorite chair, the man admires youth and its beauty.

So why would David Hockney paint such an enticing photo of a man and his daughter? Right away, with giving away the major detail of father and daughter, it changes his expression to that of a creeper to an admiring father regarding his daughter and who she has grown up to be: a beautiful young woman.

For my last blog post, I wanted to go all the way back to the beginning and say that things are not always what they appear to be. This is the opposite of my argument, but nothing is ever one-sided, no matter how much I have argued for the sexual and uncomfortable side of women in paintings. While I still do believe both of their body language provides more than just a father/daughter relationship, that can just be their personalities and how they ultimately translate onto canvas.

The brush strokes glide quickly across the canvas in an almost last-minute-like feel. They surround the bodies, and it is almost as if that jar of paintbrushes relaxing on the table were the ones to do it, until they floated back.

Not Your Average Female Portrait
Ways in which you wouldn't normally view a woman
Curated by Lily Johnston

Jean Baptiste Simeon Chardin, The Purveryoress, 1739

Hello Yente. Getting all of the good gossip? While women usually tend to be thought of as chatter boxes and never mind their own business, there aren't many painted cases portraying them as such. In eighteenth-centrury Paris, the women on the sixth floor (maids) weren't acknowledged for much more than a body to clean and cook. Put into the hot basement with fresh meat from the market, they were expected to keep their mouth shut and avert their eyes from any business not pertaining to themselves. Straying away from the sexual side of views on women in paintings, I will look at a more political side.

I can imagine this painting outraged the public. Seeing their maids as sneaky gossip mongers instead of nonhuman beings. While this painting represents normality, that doesn't mean one should paint it. Leave it to good ol' Chardin to paint the truth.

Mostly known for his still life paintings, Chardin occasionally paints a portrait about a question within society. He lived and painted during the time of enlightenment when science came into question and how people function in the world. Restless French citizens longed for rebellion and equality. Divided into a timeless class system, the maids would always be maids, and honestly not much has changed. The question of this painting is less how right or wrong it is, but instead painting the unpainted side of society. The rich could commission, but the working class and the poor would never have a record other than their baptism, marriage and death. And even then, that isn't much. I find it funny how when Chardin does indeed paint the unrepresented, he paints them in the truest of light, getting enjoyment where they could.