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Sculpture: Galleries to the Vineyards, Art in 3 Dimensions.

Summer is the time to enjoy art inside and outside, be it in art galleries, public venues, or outdoor spaces. In that spirit, Of Art and Wine presents the work of Wendy Mike, a sculptor who represents the body in unusual ways. Then there is a brief tour of some of the vineyards that have permanent displays of sculpture among the vines.

Wendy Mike: The Sculpted Life of an Artist.

Above, a video of the permanent installation at the St. Francis Orthopedic Hospital in Colorado Springs, created on a rock climbing theme and modeled for by a local rock climber. The soundtrack is an excerpt from Colorado Vocal Arts Ensemble’s “Canticum Calamatis Maritimae.”

Wendy Mike, the sculptor who created the installation shown above, says of herself that she is obsessed with the human form. The obsession perhaps came from the trials of overcoming her own physical disability. She expressed her determination by being a tomboy and a girl who never wore pink. She always loved the human form, its tension, and movement, so appreciates its beauty and every human’s desire to have the body work perfectly. From the age of four, she knew she was an artist in contrast to her parents, who were scientists. She would cry when she could not make things look like they appeared. Known in grade school as the “artist,” she studied figure drawing at Scripps College in Clairmont, CA at the age of fifteen! Those extra credits helped her graduate high school early, so at seventeen she began to travel and study dance and the figure. This combination allowed her to counter the solitary quiet of producing art with engagement in the world of performance, where she not only danced but also sang and acted. After being hired for a musical, moving to New York, getting an agent, and sixteen years of that life, she got tired of the pretty, stupid girl roles she was being offered. The business of Broadway and its demands on the female body to be thin, thin, thin, turned her off. So, she went back to art, where she developed her ideas about the human form.

“Nothing could stop me from producing art.” Wendy Mike

Rose Exposed Yellow fabric, wood and brass 11″ x 6.5″

This piece is from the Exposed/Revealed series of sculptures. All of the figures in the series (see wendymike.com) illustrate the movement of the body without the body itself, as though the clothing keeps the memory of the physical impression. With the body gone, the mind is not distracted by its presence and thus focuses on what is revealed by its absence. The flyng leap movement, chest out, legs outstretched to take a giant step forward, exposes a daring character. No shrinking violet this one – feminine, summer dress aside – this woman takes the world head-on. Perhaps it is the spirit of the activist. Mike’s mother was such an activist and a member of CORE, a group led by John Lewis, civil rights activist who marched with Dr. King and who also became a much respected member of the House of Representatives. Wendy Mike became part of the Women’s Action Coalition in New York, sitting on the Committee for Diversity and Inclusion. Moving forward seems to be the theme here.

On the other hand, a different feminine energy manifests in this piece (Carapace Tropicae, fabric, metal and thread 36x14x12.2).When one thinks of a carapace, one thinks of a hard shell like what appears on anthropods, such as turtles, crustacions, and arachnids. However, here we have a rather innocent, joyful display of lovely feminine colors, yes pink, but also pale orange, baby blue printed with red-violet butterflies, and traces of white. A carapace is a shield, and this figure has chosen the most “girlie” of wrappings as her armor. She is attractive yes, but complicated, as can be seen by the multiple layers of wrapping and the sway in the hip.

Lines of two songs come to mind. First the Isley Brothers’ “Who’s That Lady?” They sing, “Your eyes tell me to pursue, but you say Look yeah, but don’t touch, baby.” The other lyric is the introduction to the song, “I Live in a Tropical Country,” by a famous Brazilian singer, Wilson Simonal, who starts by dedicating the song to “The beauty, grace, charm, and poison of the Brazilian woman.” And yes, brightly colored creatures in the tropics are often poisonous. Is she, or is she not?

Galea-Athena, fabric, paper, metal, and wood 13 x 10 x 7 inches.

Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, the essence of intellect, was also a confident, clever, master of disguises, and a great warrior. A master of the “womanly arts,” she has also been summed up in Greek mythology as the perfect example of brains and brawn. As a warrior she is often pictured with a helmet, a galea. Here she is depicted with her own special galea, a helmet of fabric that circles her head like a crown, but a crown that is sutured on, closing up an open wound. We see torn fabric in the cheek and what appears to be a tapestry tack holding the face in place. This Athena has been through the wars. This piece seems to point to the history of women in a patriarchal society. The goddess has not always won the battle, but in the pendulum swing beween matriachy (prehistoric societies) and patriarchy (historically written society), the war has not been lost. The pedulum must come to rest in the middle, allowing both sides to function in consort, like the positive and negative charges on a battery. It is that combination that makes things work for everyone’s benefit.

Say Her Name: Breonna (Isis from the tomb) African fabric, NY Times, wire and found object.

Breonna (Isis, from the tomb), a haunting description indeed for someone who died so tragically. Saying the name is important. It was the ancient Egyptians who wrote in the Book of the Dead, “That which is named must exist…that which is remembered lives.” So Breonna lives on in image, an American in red, white, and blue, an African in the fabric of that continent, and a cultural icon dressed in headlines. Isis still speaks from the tomb to remind us of our wrong assumptions about others. Wendy Mike’s dedication to cultural diversity, and the empowerment of women is demonstrated in many ways in her art. In 1992 in Art in the Anchorage (Brooklyn Bridge), Mike created her first installation, Violence Against Women. As can be seen in many of the items shown here, her sculpture is often expressed in papers, fabrics, wrapped and wovern items, things not associated with the hard metals of sculpture, yet useful household items, most commonly associated with women. Through the choice of those materials and the themes she expresses with them, we move away from expectations in bronze and see a different perspective.

From Wendy Mike’s Sculpture Series – Mounted, comes Icarus (mixed media, brass, and glass 60 x 10 x 10.2 inches), the perfect image of trying to fly too high. His wings have melted, and gravity has him in its grip, coiling about him like a serpent of inevitability. Once again Wendy Mike shows her great skill and comprehension of the human body in this piece that covers almost every possible human movement in a figure that falls backward in a tumble down to earth.

It is the opposite of the beautiful rock climbing figures that transcend the limitations of the body to push it to greater heights. Here the poignant expression on Icarus’ face as he sees his hopes dashed call forth that common human understanding of our global ambitions to indeed transcend our mortality. Icarus failed. Yet, just like the rock climbers, humans persist, for one day we may all indeed become gods.

Wendy Mike’s work and career accolades can be seen on her website wendymike.com.

Her installation at St. Francis Interquest Orthopedic Hospital is a permanent one and readily viewable.

Mike is also the founder of Future Self: Art for Youth at Risk.

The Artist’s recommended reading: The Alphabet and the Goddess by Leonard Shlain.

This article reprinted from The Art Blog at VernelleStudio.com

© Marjorie Vernelle 2024

Have Your Wine and Some Art, Too!

An unnamed sculpture in the vineyards of Sculpterra Winery and Sculpture Gardens.

When I think of American wine, my mind immediately goes to California. This is not to sideline Oregon, Washington, New York, or Colorado. However, there is something about the climate, the landscape, the wines, and the artful way so many of the wineries take advantage of all of their surroundings. This includes using other cultural elements to combine into a wonderful tasting experience that adds beautiful visual elements. Located in Paso Robles, California, Sculpterra winery offers a number of cultural events to go with its remarkable wines. From celebrating His Healing Hands Medical Mission, to a Winemaker Signature Dinner, to a good old Fourth of July celebration, there is always something happening at Sculpterra. Of course the name says a lot. Yes, they show sculpture in their vineyards. To get a fuller idea of what that means, just look under the category The Art on their beautiful website: https://sculpterra.com/

The Entrance to Mondavi Winery in the Napa Valley napa wineries with art

The Napa Valley takes the cake when it comes to expressing itself artfully. One of the leaders in the trend of showing art along with producing wines is the Robert Mondavi Winery. It started showing the work of local sculptor Beniamino Bufano in a time when his work was judged too contemporary. The winery’s art has grown into an impressive collection. However, for the next few years (until 2026), the winery will be closed for renovatons. Only the iconic archway will remain. In the meantime they have rented the historic Borreo Building (former Stone brewery) in downtown Napa to continue their fine tasting and viewing reputation.

The Franz Gertsch Exhibition at Hess Persson Estate Winery. https://www.hessperssonestates.com/

Donald Hess, the founder of the Hess Art Collection, which shows most of its works in museums all over the world, is lso the founder of this wonderful winery as well. The works of the 20 artists he has collected over the years besides being in those museums are also show at his winery where there are docent-led tours, followed by a wine tasting. Hess Persson Estates is on Redwood Rd. in Napa.

Hall Winery Fermentaton Room with Graham Caldwell’s Red Rain blown glass raindrops https://www.napavalley.com/blog/napa-valley-art-wine/

Hall Wines in St. Helena understands the deep connections between art and wine. It provides a total experience in its massive building filled with art and fine wines. However charmed you are by the art inside the building, there is more on the outside, as the gardens display a number of sculptures. It is truly a contemporary art experience. They offer a red blend that is known as Jack’s Masterpiece, which will certainly bring back memories of your visit and the art you experienced. https://www.hallwines.com/

Getting back to sculpture, Artesa Winery in the Los Carneros area of the Napa Valley brings a touch of Spain to the valley. The design of the winery is based on modern Spanish architecture and the sculpture brings to mind some of the work of the early Cubists, like Pablo Picasso. Founded by the famous Raventós Codoniu family of winemakers from Spain, they focus on fine quality Pinot Noir and Chardonnay wines. You can enjoy the beautiful views, the wonderul wines, and the modern feel of the art and architecture.

For more on Artesa Winery click https://www.artesawinery.com/

Nearest to my heart is the Domaine Chandon Winery in the Napa Valley. Established in 1973 by Moet et Chandon, it was the first French-owned sparkling wine producer in the Napa Valley. In great French style, it combines wine and great foods in a variety of ways, from picnics to five course meals.

A view of the vineyards while you taste the wine at Domaine Chandon https://www.chandon.com/

So why is this one so near to my heart? Many years ago when I lived in San Francisco and showed my art, I was given an art show at what was then Domain Chandon’s French restaurant. In those days along with the views of the vineyards, there was wall space between the big windows. It was in those spaces that my art – paintings of the vineyards – hung. I was given a lovely reception and an experience that I will alwys remember. I do not know what if any art they show at the moment, but I can guarantee a fine tasting experience and the visual pleasure of their fabulous vineyards.

So, do remember that there is more than just wine happening in the Napa Valley and in fact in vineyards around the world. To find out more about the world’s fantastic art and wine experiences in the vineyards, look at this article, “Vine Art” by Theodora Thomas. https://editorial.mazerow.com/top-ten-vineyards/ Happy tasting and art viewing!

© Marjorie Vernelle 2024 

Featured

Kevin Johnson: Portraits as Rich as Fine Cabernet.

While I often present artists’ paintings in various relationship to wines, it is not often that I directly relate the paintings to a specific type of wine. However, during a recent artist talk at Auric Gallery in Colorado Springs, where Johnson’s paintings were on display in a show called Serenity, someone who knows I write about wine mentioned his art and Cabernet in the same breath. It struck me that exploring that metaphor is indeed an interesting way to approach Johnson’s rich painting style and subject matter.

First let’s get a good grasp on Cabernet. It is a red wine made from the Cabernet Sauvignon grape. It is one of the most popular types of wine because its flavors appeal to so many people. It tastes of dark berries, red fruits, with notes of soil and ash, dry spices, and sometimes even herbs. It is clearly of the earth. It is delicious and versatile when young, and it ages well. With that as an introduction, let us see where the wine, the art, and the artist take us.

The Conversation 36″ x 36″ oil on canvas by Kevin Johnson

The young man in this painting is more than a dreamer. His thoughts may have him floating in the clouds, but his clothing is of a practical nature. His interior monologue takes on the essence of a dialog with his future, with that which is divine inside of him and outside of him. While he will descend again at some point into the world where those practical clothes may take him to a job that requires his bodily stength, in this moment, he is lifted up by this conversation with the self and the Universe. His face is indeed serene, in keeping with the title of the exhibition, but his eyes see something in that distant horizon that he aims for and which gives him direction.

The rich violets, blue violets, and the earth tones are reminiscent of Cabernet and create a calm effect appropriate to quiet contemplation. The billowing clouds, though made of just vapor, provide a firm support for this young man’s imaginings. The russet color on the upper right seems to be lit by a bit of sunlight, sunlight which we see lighting up parts of the clouds in a hopeful manner. The calm that comes from this painting is not unlike a taste of a rich Cabernet, served at room temperature. It is earthy, but aromatic, like a thought that moves a dream into reality. The mood that Johnson creates is one of hope and possibility and a certain trust in the way that nature and the Universe can work things out.

This is a different type of contemplation. The young woman pictured here is not creating a dream. No, her mind is still and open to receiving the information she needs from the mysterious unknown that can send a sign, an indication, a turn of events that leads one on. She is not desperate or afraid. The white of her dress indicates the purity of her intentions. Remarkably the earrings seem like berries, and there are similar traces in her hair that bubble up and drift off into the atmosphere around her, carrying her request.

The earth colors in the background with their golds, reds, and oranges form a collage of the earthly, which are sprinkled in tiny squares in the foreground and background, the white of which echoes her garment and pure intent. The painting is called Seeking Guidance (36″ x 36″ oil on canvas). The tiny squares and circles bubble up from her throat and depart from her head like bubbles in sparkling wine, her own particular libation to connect herself to the divine.

Reflection 20″x 24″ oil on canvas

This painting is so very organic that it is as if the young man is nature itself. He grows out of the same firmament as the flowers, the same place that the hummingbirds come from. His brow and throat carry the color markings of the flowers and the leaves. The sweet combination of things makes him not unlike the grapes that produce a wine that is rich and full bodied. His is a mixture of the improbable, tenderness in a hoodie.

The hoodie is particularly important here because it so often has taken on a one-diminsional meaning in modern American society. It was a hoodie that young Travon Martin was wearing that drew the attention of self-appointed “neighborhood watchman” George Zimmerman. A hoodie on a young black teen fit the media-hyped stereotype of trouble that provoked Zimmerman, a full grown man, to get into a fight with a kid, which ended tragically with him killing a youngster who died with a package of Skittles candy in his hand. Martin’s case is far from the only one, and Johnson’s painting points out the fallacy of assumptions. The young man in the painting with his deep earthtoned skin surrounded by flowers and sweet hummingbirds is as worthy of love as any of the rest of us. Let us not forget.

Pink Monday 20″ x 24″ oil on canvas

A sprinkling of leaves and petals falling gently remind one of the berries, fruits, and spices in a sparkling Cabernet Sauvignon. The pink is a cheerful lift like the bubbles, but the expression on the face points out a fascinating layer of spicy complexity. Pink Monday gives a lie to Billie Holiday’s old song, “Gloomy Monday.” There is no gloom in this young woman’s face. Seriousness, yes, but also head-held-high attitude. She’s taking the world on in pink, and if you don’t like it – too bad!

Pondering the Dream 20″ x 24″ oil on canvas

There is more than a dream of being a great basketball star going on here. The ball and the shoes are just the outer trappings, his springboard to something greater. The red cape and the Superman shirt tell the real story. Yes, he may be thinking of getting on a great all-star team, but his aspirations go farther than that. So many Black athletes have distinguished themselves in terms of philanthropic endeavors that it has formed a message to the youth that there is more than just fancy houses, clothes, and cars to be done with the platform that fame can give. And even if one does not make it to the top tier of a sports profession, remember that Superman’s normal guise was very ordinary. Most days he was just Clark Kent, erstwhile reporter for the Daily Planet; however, when the time came to take action, he served. So, our young man contemplating the world represented by that basketball may also discover his own personal superpower, the one that lets him be someone’s superman..

Her Calmness 30″ x 40″ oil on canvas His Calmness 30″ x 40″ oil on canvas

One of the things that Kevin Johnson is working on now is digital sculpture – yes, sculpture created on a computer, but which can be printed out into a 3D object. While these figures show once again Johnson’s ability to create beautiful serene faces full of character, there is a strong sculptural quality to the planes of the face, the high cheekbones, the strong jawline, and the shape of the hair, as well as the orange object in the background of each painting. Serenity once again is the theme, along with quiet dignity. The beautiful highlight in pale lavender that delineate the structure of the young man’s face is a stroke of genius, as it lights both sides of his face and contrasts with areas of peach. Grays and earth oranges, colors perhaps more associated with the masculine, light the face of the young woman, making a yin-yang contrast to the male’s peach and lavender.

I shall lift a glass of earthy Louis Martini Monte Rosso in celebration of these paintings. Johnson has skillfully captured not only the look of Black youth but also has done it in a way that moves beyond media stereotypes. He reclaims the humanity of these young people, their style, and their dreams in a painted symphony of hope and aspirations.

An Interview with Kevin Johnson

For all of our talk about Cabernet, Johnson admits he’s a Chardonnay man, which he likes to combine with chicken dishes, Italian style calamari, or pasta with clams. He says this with the same resoluteness that he uses when he talks of his boyhood love of making art. “I knew when I was seven that I wanted to be an artist,” Johnson says. “It was just a matter of how to get there.”

Johnson got there by joining the army where he spent twenty-one years, rising in the ranks and becoming a Director of Food Services, managing the daily feeding of some 5,000 soldiers in Afghanistan. He applied those skills in his civilian life as Director for Brookdale Food Services, where yes, he even managed the serving of wines. However, the main thing that the army afforded him was the G.I. Bill’s tuition program, which allowed him to study at Full Sail, University in Winter Park, Florida, earning a B.A. in Computer Animation, and later coming near to finishing his master’s degree. He studied other artists, and studied with a famous artist, Thomas Blackshear (see Thomas Blackshear II) to hone his skills.

When asked what Johnson wants people to take from looking at a piece of his art, he says he wants people to see positive images that impower people. “As a sergeant in the army, I worked with so many young people who were trying to find their way in life but had no idea how to get to their dreams,” Johnson says. “I want my art to reflect positive images and to reinforce the will to achieve personal goals.”

When it comes to rules that must be followed in order to make good art, he goes back to the basics of some of the comic books that inspired him as a kid. He looks for composition, action, a good visual story, use of color, and emotional expression. Yet as he has matured as an artist, he also says that he has learned that art can be almost anything. Yes, there are rules, but often it depends on how the artist sees things. In terms of advice to young aspiring artists, Johnson says, “Learn to express, and be patient. You got to stick with it. It is not an overnight thing. Learn to network to find opportunities. Be consistent in what you produce in order to have a recognizable style.”

And as for Cabernet and Chadonnay, well the light and the dark make for contrasts, which an artist like Johnson knows are invaluable when creating images. 

Kevin Johnson has been represented by Black Art in America, a gallery owned by Najee and Satiria Dorsey. In Colorado Springs, he shows at Auric Gallery. His work is also in a group show currently in Boulder, Colorado at the Dairy Art Center in a show called Black Futures in Art: Can You Hear Me? As well, his work is featured in a wonderful book, Changing the Narrative. Johnson’s own website is kevjart.com

For those of you who want a good guide to the wonders of Cabernet, I shall turn you over to an expert, Wine Folly’s Madeline Puckette, whose Guide to Cabernet starts with a luscious photo of a fat burger with fries. winefolly.com

For a look at Chardonnay and its three main types, I have an Of Art and Wine article that pairs them with James McNeill Whistler’s Nocturnes. “Whistler’s Nocturnes and Chardonnay, Unoaked, Oaked, and Sparkling.” ofartandwine.com

©marjorie vernelle 2024

Featured

Love Letter, Loss, and Lizard:Would Wine and Chocolate Have Helped?

The High Renaissance of the 15th and 16th centuries produced many masters, so many that some of the very best still did not make it to the top. Enter Lorenzo Lotto (1480-1556). Lotto was born in Venice in the time of the acknowledged greats of Giovanni Bellini and Giorgione, from whom he took his early inspiration, and the triumphirate of Titian, Tintoretto, and Veronese whose dominance sent Lotto journeying outside of the Veneto in search of work and acclaim. Yet as good painting never dies, in recent years, Lotto has become the subject of several great retrospectives, like the one in the National Gallery of London in 2018, which focused on his portraits. Given that Lotto did rather unique things in his portraits and since the romance of Valentine’s Day is now gone, let us take a look at his Portrait of a Gentleman in His Study (c. 1530) as a sort of after Valentine’s Day story.

Portrait of a Gentlman in His Study (1527-30) Lorenso Lotto en.wikipedia.org

As became customary in Lotto’s portraits, there are many mysterious clues to something that the viewer can only guess at. Yet, these items do tell us some things about the young man in this portrait. From his clothing, it would seem that he is quite well off. The fact the he holds a thick book and has various letters scattered on his table, which is draped in rich green cloth, tells us he is well educated as well as financially substantial.

Taking a closer look at what is on that table reveals a few odd clues to what might be going on with this young man. We see the open letter on the left with a scattering of rose petals torn from the flower. They sit atop a woman’s fringed shawl. Could it be that the letter is a certain woman’s rejection of the young man’s offer, hence the ripped apart rose? Photo from facebook.com Eoin Lane

And yes, there is a lizard there, that little brown thing in the silk shawl (see photo below). Lizards symbolized mystery, for their comings and goings are hard to keep track of. They crawl into hidden areas, under rocks, and into caverns, and as such they were also associated with death. We notice an odd box-like shape just behind and to the side of the young man. Some have suggested that it is a coffin and that the shawl may have belonged to the sitter’s mother. They say that the book is a type of ledger, and he is going over business dealings. While that box does have a crucifix casually hanging from it, it does not seem very much like a coffin to me. The book that the young man is perusing is far too thick to be a ledger book of accounts. It seems more like a book that one might read to gain wisdom from the writings of the great poets of the past, especially if one had suffered an emotional letdown.

Close up of the Gentleman in Lorenzo Lotto’s painting galleriaaccademia.it

The face of this young man is quite serious. Though not necessarily downcast, it certainly is not smiling with joy. One of Lotto’s techniques was to have his subjects look out at the viewer of the painting. Here, the young man gives us a direct and penetrating gaze. He knows we are looking at him in a moment when he should peacefully be able to sort out his feelings in private. That adds to the mystery of the painting. Why are we able to see him in this moment? And what exactly is this moment? Has he been rejected by his true love? Or has his bid for a wealthy marriage been cast aside by his intended? Or did someone really die?

So we come back to the lizard. In ancient Roman times, the lizard was the symbol of death and rebirth, as they hybernate in the winter and reappear in the spring. So that would give hope to this young man in his romantic pursuits. However, by the middle ages and the Renaissance, the lizard was a symbol of evil as well as death. (photo galleriaaccademia.it)

So, Lotto has stumped us once again. Which of these meanings applies to his situation? What fate is predicted by these items, the woman’s shawl, the open letter, the torn flower petals, and the lizard? Of course, we can just look upon all this as Lotto’s distinguishing technique, something that set him apart from his competitors. His studies of the subjects of his portraits are all quite psychological, with little bits and pieces of personal effects that leave one with clues but never an answer.

As an artist born in the High Renaissance but who lived into the beginning of the Baroque and one who had to travel away from the competition in his Venetian home, Lotto and his work are a study of art in transition. His use of the vertical shape for his portraits was an innovation. Even though this painting is in somber tones (as perhaps befits the subject of the lovelorn), he also used the brilliant pastels associated with the 16th century’s Bella Maniera (Mannerist style). His unique style sometimes lost him valuable commissions, as his use of (and possible overuse of) symbolic items was not always well received. Yet, while those symbolic clues do not reveal the nature of the mystery in his painting, they do add to it. What is your interpretation?

For more on Lorenzo Lotto, try looking him up on youtube.com, as there one finds many lectures and presentations on him and his work. For a rather amusing take on this portrait, see LadyKflo’s look at the painting and the young man’s “dating profile” (see this blog post on ladykflo.com).

Resources for this article:

April Oettinger, ” The Lizard in the Study: Landscape and Otium in Lorenzo Lotto’s Portrait of a Young Man.” academia.edu

My own notes from art history classes I took while in Avignon, France. The class was on Bella Maniera (Mannerism) and Venetian painting, including a trip to Venice and the Galleria Accademia, where I saw this painting.

© Marjorie Vernelle 2024

Wine and Chocolate, Dangerous but Delicious!

Photo by Alev Takil on unsplash.com

Okay, call me crazy, but yes, I am a believer in odd but interesting combinations, and that in certain circumstances, there can never be too much of a good thing. However, there is a certain wisdom in a bit of Puritan restraint, for there are things that can cause disasterous conflicts, spoiling both. That is particularly true of wine and chocolate. So, with those provisos and remembering the mysteries in Lorenzo Lotto’s paintings, we will bravely dive into the love chemistry of wine and chocolate.

Now, for those of you who are true lovers of dark chocolate, do remember that bitterness increases with higher concentrations of cacao. If the concentration of cacao is 80% or more according to Martha Stewart, then it is best to just enjoy the glory of those wonderous dimensions of darkness that invade your senses when you bite into bitter dark chocolate and leave the wine alone. Cacao may make you want to go off to conquor an empire, and once that is done, you can always join the rest of us who are moving on to the pleasures of milk chocolate and even white chocolate that mix well with wines.

Photo by Vachos Xantinides on unsplash.com

Ah yes, milk chocolate. While, personally, it has never been a favorite of mine, the idea of enjoying it with a glass of fine wine is right down my alley. The higher the sugar content and the lower the cacao, the wider the range of wines one can use to pair with the chocolate. High milk content aids in making the chocolate appropriate for wine pairing. One can start with a red that has fruit flavors and one with lower tannin levels. No one wants to get dry mouth, so do not bring out the Cabernet. Instead, you could try a sweet sparkling red like a Valpolicella or a Lambrusco di Sorbara, a choice from Madelinie Puckette of Wine Folly. I don’t know if the bubbles in the sparkling wines affect the taste on their own, but they certainly lend themselves to the feeling of doing something deliciously extraodinary.

Photo by emy for unsplash.com

White chocolate, which contains no cacao and is considered by chocolate lovers to be a suspicious non-chocolate interloper, combines very nicely with dry red wines. You can take the Pinot Noir out again or try a Beaujolais. White wines go well with it and most especially the sparkling ones. Rosé works well. Puckette recommends a new style of Port called Rosé Port, which has a “minerality” that adds a touch of sophistication.

Photo by Hari Nandakumar for unsplash.com

Now, for those who are health conscious, it is good to remember that wine and chocolate both are full of antioxidents. This brings us back to dark chocolates in which the antioxident flavanols are much higher (white chocolate, of course has no cacao thus no flavanols, and milk chocolate has some but nothing like dark chocolate). There are some intriguing possibilities for wine pairings. Puckette mentions an exotic combination of ginger dark chocolate with Orange Muscat. For the less daring of us, there is the pairing of chocolate mint with a Syrah or Petite Syrah Port.

Photo by Elena Leya on unsplash.com

Yum, yum, yummy!

Articles used for this section:

“How to Pair Wine with Chocolate,” by Caroline Miquelez marthastewart.com

“What Wine to Pair with Chocolate?” Madeline Pucketter winefolly.com

©marjorie vernelle 2024

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An After-Christmas Story to Enjoy with a Digestif

Before this article begins, I must apologize to my regular readers for my long absence. It was fine and busy time (details can be found on vernellestudio.com under COPPeR 2023 and Author Page); however, those activities combined with my online teaching for a university meant that I had to drop a few things. Now, the New Year is almost here and time to start my return by sharing an art story for that odd period just after Christmas. Who better to tell an offbeat part of the Christmas story than Caravaggio, himself so often a refugee, fleeing for his life, though not for the same reasons as this family.

Caravaggio’s Angel and Rest on the Flight to Egypt

Holy family in pastoral setting being serenaded with violin music by an angel.

Rest on the Flight to Egypt by Caravaggio, c.1597

It is my favorite Caravaggio, a family taking a rest in an oddly somber but verdant landscape where they are being serenaded by an angel. Divine! Well, it is the Holy Family. Of course they are running for their lives in order to escape King Herod’s fury, as his troops go about massacring the innocents. Rest on the Flight to Egypt it is called, and this is not a layover at a Red Sea resort. Nothing in this landscape looks like the deserts of ancient Israel or Egypt. This is an Italian setting, somewhere in Lombardy perhaps, and not unlike some of Giorgione’s landscapes in the early 1500s. The family seems settled on the banks of a little lake (see the water in the distance on the right) under the shelter of trees, with various plants all around them. They are weary, and Mary’s slumped head and limp right hand would indicate that she and the baby are both napping. Joseph, being much older, bears the weariness of his age as well as his travels. They are not shabbily dressed, but they are humble people sitting on the bare earth.

Well, so much for the obvious; now for the oddities. Mary and the Christ Child have no halos. This was done during the beginning of the Baroque period; all holy figures had halos.

Close up of Joseph and the Angel with the donkey just behind.

As well, look at the size of the donkey. He’s an enormous beast; donkeys are small animals. Was it done so in order to get that magnificent head into a close frame with Joseph and the angel, a portrait of three existences: man, beast, and a divine entity? And, of course, the most outstanding character here is in fact the angel playing the music. His placement in front of the family, all sitting in a row with the donkey in the background, puts the angel in a dominant position. He is extremely pale, with little of the flesh colors of the humans in the picture, which indicates his other-worldliness. The angel is rather scantily clad, with the front of his body only covered at the waist and below the knee, as his white garb flows elegantly around his limbs. He stands with the right foot slightly elevated, throwing his weight (angels have weight?) onto his left side causing the left hip to curve slightly outward. His face is intent upon his violin and the sheet music. Yes, sheet music, held by Joseph no less, indicating that Joseph indeed sees this angel. What is going on here?

Musicians in a country setting with naked muses.

Concert Champetre by Giorgione, c.1509 (This painting is sometimes credited to Titian who may have finished it after Giorgione’s death in 1510.)

Well, I had to go digging through my art history notes looking for some answers. I kept looking at that donkey, and finally it came to me. It seems a reference to the classical images of the birth of Jesus, in which the shepherds are present and along with them a cow and a donkey. Here, because of their travel, the faithful donkey, probably taken from the stable in all those nativity scenes, is still with them. Of course, his calm intent regard seems to show he is soothed by the music. Ah yes, the music. In the picture just above, we see Giorgione’s (maybe Titian’s) Concert Champetre in which two musicians sit thoroughly engaged in music and conversation while naked women loll about.

Well, not exactly. The females are muses who are inspiring the musicians from the unseen, hence why these guys are oblivious to their presence. We can also see here the way a gown of some sort has draped itself around one of the muses. Caravaggio’s angel has a touch of this, though in a more elegant style, just hinting at the angel’s nudity. The main thing for me, though, is that Joseph is holding the sheet music. Is this the way that Caravaggio substitutes for not having halos? If Joseph’s family is indeed specially blessed, why would they not be able to see an angel and hold his divine composition?

Now, though Caravaggio painted this ethereally innocent angel, he, Caravaggio, lived a life far from the divine. He was a master of chiaroscuro, or the use of contrast of light and dark. His life seems to have followed the same course. When we look at his representation of the young men with whom he obviously “partied,” as he represents himself as The Young Sick Bacchus, we see quite a difference between them and the angel.

Young Sick Bacchus by Caravaggio, 1593-1594

Boy Bitten by a Lizard by Caravaggio

Boy with a Basket of Fruit by Caravaggio, 1593-1494

These young men are all quite sensual, though in different ways. His young Bacchus character, the young man bitten by a lizard, and the young man with a basket of fruit are all done with a keen eye for human character and imperfection. Their coloring, of course, is that of flesh and blood. Their mouths are open, which heightens the sensuality. A sexual tone is quite evident as they handle ripe fruits, symbolic of their own youth and beauty. To the contrary, the angel’s mouth is closed, and he shows none of the flush of humanity. His eyes look down at his violin and the sheet music. His body has the allure of a purely beautiful form. He has come to earth in a perfect body, unashamed to be naked, as his sash covers little. He is divine innocence in all its beauty, untouched and untouchable.

The angel’s contrast with the seated figures, holy humans in this story, sets him apart from them but is not done using the strong contrast in dark and light that Caravaggio was so famous for. The toning down of the sharp contrasts allows for the scene to have a far gentler feel than many of his paintings of high drama. The style used here provides for a peaceful interlude during an otherwise harrowing trip, and the viewer can appreciate Caravaggio’s appropriate choice of subtlety to match the theme of the painting.

Caravaggio was many things, an enfant terrible, a murderer, and a hard-living capricious man, who was also a great painter. A painter as full of darkness and light as the chiaroscuro techniques he used; his brutal life perhaps only adds to the beauty of his paintings. What he knew of the divine; whether he believed in it or not; whether he mocked religion or prayed fervently, we truly don’t know. However, they say all painters paint themselves. He certainly did that when he painted his own self portrait as the head of Goliath after decapitation by David. I wonder what part of him was that divinely beautiful musical angel for whom Joseph holds the sheet music?

David with the Head of Goliath by Caravaggio, 1610.

Paintings used are all in Public Domain and available on wikimedia.org

For more on Caravaggio’s life, here is a link to Simon Schama’s Power of Art segment on Caravaggio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiH_ootDtTs

#caravaggio #powerofartcaravaggio #restontheflighttoegypt #baroqueart

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle.

She also has an engaging art blog that talks of painting and profiles artists in her local community. This article is a reprint from that Art Blog on VernelleStudio.com

© Marjorie Vernelle 2019, 2023

The Digestif: A Satisfying Miracle

Digestif: A digestif is an alcoholic beverage served after a meal, traditionally believed to aid digestion even though there is not strong evidence to support.

“The Art of the After-Dinner Drink: Digestifs” from tastingtable.com

Strong evidence or not, for those who seek a bit of quiet time after a big holiday meal, a digestif is a good way to cozy up to the final warm glow of a good dinner. This can be made even better by also studying a fine piece of art, like Caravaggio’s Rest on the Flight to Egypt. Depending on your view of Caravaggio’s life, you might go for Amaro because it comes in both a light sweet version and a bitter one.

What is Amaro?

Amaro is a grape brandy mixed with all kinds of herbs, spices, citrus, flowers, and other aromatic items to make a liqueur suitable for those after-dinner moments. According to Ray Isle of FoodandWine.com, Amaro may not be everyone’s favorite, though it is something that one can acquire a passion for, as he has. Amaro means “bitter” in Italian, so the taste is normally bittersweet which somehow works well with the fact that the drink was first sold in Italy as a medicinal tonic to improve the health. (Aren’t those always a bit bitter?) This medicinal aspect seems to be a common theme for potent liqueurs, like Genepi, for instance.

I learned of Genepi when on an art trip to the Alps of Haute Savoie. The drink was a medieval remedy for “the burning sickness,” a disease marked by tingling in the toes and fingers, which signaled poor circulation to the extremeties that could lead to amputation. Genepi was designed to get the blood circulating. That still did not cure the disease which was caused by parasites in the rye that bread was made from. The cure came when the people began eating wheat bread, but Genepi’s warming effects linger on. For those who might look upon the Caravaggio painting from the point of view of the very humble, this after-dinner liqueur made from gentian flowers and stems from the high Alps might serve your viewing of the painting well, and it is a bit sweet.

Photo from wikipedia.org

However, let’s get back to Amaro. Somehow the sweet lightness of the angel in Caravaggio’s painting makes me think of Amaro Nonino, pictured above right beside the Genepi. It has all the right digestive elements of the other amari, but its use of grappa mixed with oranges and rhubarb plus other spices (mostly well-kept secret ingredients) calm the bitterness. Mary and Joseph in the painting, despite having been forced to flee, do not seem bitter. Perhaps it is the angel’s music that has soothed them, just ast Amaro Nonino may soothe you.

For those who take into account the rough life of Caravaggio not to mention the general plight of refugees, then the bitter taste might appeal more. Amaro dell’ Erborista is really a test even though it has spices, dried fruit and honey. If you like a taste of mystery, you might go for a Sfumato like Rubarbaro, which is made from Chinese rubarb or the slightly milder version called Zucca. Any of these will draw the mind to contemplate both the light and the darkness in Caravaggio’s painting. In terms of Amaro, it seems the best comment on the subject comes from Ray Isle, who welcomes arrivistes to the culture of Amaro, saying, “They have a lot to discover.”

As for me, I am sticking with Prosecco for the holidays, (though I might have a Genepi, just to digest the lemon and rosemary chicken I’ve planned for New Year’s day). So with that, here is my wish for a great New Year for all of you, for me, and for OfArtandWine.com

© Marjorie Vernelle 2023

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Straight Out of the Nile Valley, Cheeky Harry’s Golden Bee.

Prince Harry in his Dior shirt with the embroidered golden bee. express.co.uk

Well, we all saw it when Prince Harry suddenly appeared in London recently. With his suitcoat open, it soon became evident that his fine Dior shirt sported a golden bee. My interest was immediately piqued about the messages that sent. Perhaps the prince is going to give a boost to men’s fashion by being a style icon for Dior (hopefully with a lucrative marketing deal). However, I wonder if there is not another more subtle message: a reminder that he is royal, whether his family likes it or not.

Bee and Reed Symbol – Ancient Egyptian Symbols – Egypt Tours Portal egypttoursportal.com

I admit that in the last year I have been deep into Ancient Egypt because of a novel I have written (see comments on that at the end of this article). In the process of my research, I discovered quite a few things that have come down to us literally through the ages. Among them is the bee as the symbol of royalty. (On a side note, Harry’s wedding ring is on full view in the photo above. The use of the fourth digit on the left hand – the ring finger – for wedding rings comes from the ancient Nile kingdom also. The pharaohs decided that the ring symbolized eternity. Find out more here rusticandmain.com .) The long history of the association of the bee with royalty is fascinating, and it also has a connection to the production of good wine. Let’s dive into this, shall we?

Ancient Egyptian beekeeper with clay cylinders for capturing honey and, of course, the bees. Find out more at planetbee.org

It seems that the ancient Egyptians kept bees starting around 4,000 B.C. and somehow, it became the symbol of the kings of Lower Egypt (that part near the Mediterranean) around 3,500 B.C. As with many countries, including ours, there was a north/south divide, and in ancient Egypt the symbol of the south was the reed. Ultimately, the two symbols were used together to show the unity of the country under the pharaoh.

Ancient Egyptian collecting honey from The History of Honey meli-feli.com

Honey is the bee’s most wondrous product and was used for a variety of things in ancient Egypt. Its powers as an antiseptic became known, so it was used to prevent wounds from becoming infected. Since it is acidic and lacks moisture, it is a natural perservative, which gave it a role in the mummification process. Honey found in King Tut’s tomb is said to still be edible – though this is not recommended (talk about the curse of the pharaoh!). Naturally it was used in the production of sweetcakes, an ancient dessert, and in flavoring sauces to go with dishes like roast duck. Those sweetcakes were often used to make amends with people and with the gods. Honey was offered to the deceased during the Opening of the Mouth ceremony which allowed the essence of the dead person to continue to eat and drink in the afterlife.

When it comes to magical thinking, the ancient Egyptians were among the best. The honeycombs produced by the bees were sometimes made into wax figurines to use in the practice of magic called “heka” (perhaps where our term “hex” comes from). This involved working magic to influence the actions of others, for good or for ill. Supposedly honey was thought to be the Tears of Re, the sun god, and therefore, precious enough to be used to pay one’s taxes. (Don’t try this with the IRS).

Ancient Egyptians making wine. egyptianstreets.com

When it comes to wine, our bees royal or not, play only an ancillary role, though it sometimes is very important. Since grape vines do not need pollination to produce fruit, the bees are free to do their magic elsewhere. That elsewhere involves their fertilization of cover crops like clover and mustard which balance the soil in and around the monoculture planting of grapevines. Grgich Hlls Estate in the Napa Valley has a wonderful article, “Why Vineyards Need Bees” on its website www.grgich.com, which gives some insight into this process.

Those old Egyptians started making wine about 3,000 B.C. in the southern part of Egypt using grapes, dates, and pomegranates. It was drunk by the upper classes and the royals but supposedly in moderation or “prescribed amounts.” The ordinary folk drank a nutrient rich beer that was commonly part of the payment, along with bread and grains, that workers were compensated with. Wine was for the elite, and from the Second Intermediate Period (1700-1550 B.C.) through New Kingdom (1550- 1070 B.C.) and later, it was imported from the Levant and beyond. Interestingly, some of the wine jugs in King Tut’s tomb show that he even had white wine. For more on ancient Egyptians and wine see “Oaks and Corks: A Brief History of Wine in Ancient Egypt” on the website, egyptianstreests.com

The Temple of Seti I in Abydos (1290-1279 B.C.) (Photo licensed from Shutterstock.com)

As I mentioned above I spent a lot of 2022 researching and writing about the temple pictured above and the pharaoh who built it, Seti I. In the process I discovered a treasure trove of information from various academic papers on aspects of ancient Egyptian life, from foods and wine to their debit and credit system, which was quite complicated since they did not have a coined money until the Ptolemaic Period in the 4th century B.C. In more ancient times they had a system of weights and measures to count out amounts of gold called “debens” which appear in their art as stacked rings of that metal.

All this to say, that coming perhaps by the end of summer will be the novel, Temple in the Sand, the Memoirs of a Pharaoh, that takes the reader into the last year of the life of a pharaoh who was a great warrior, and a great king. In his tomb and temple, he left some of the most beautiful art made in ancient Egypt, which has caused some Egyptologists to refer to him as an true art connoisseur. He also produced a great son, Ramesses II. Since I have gathered this information, I have created a Facebook page dedicated to the period, the temple and the book, facebook.com/templeinthesand

As for Harry’s golden bee, maybe it will translate into one of his conservation projects either here or in Africa. Preserve the bees, what a princely thing to do!

Photos and references come from the websites linked in the articles.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

©marjorie vernelle 2023

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April Fool’s Special: Rocking Rococo and Over the Top Wines!

The Swing by Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1767.

This painting is known in French as Les Hasards heureux de l’escarpolette, or The Happy Accidents of the Swing. My, whatever might those be? This young woman’s lovely pink slipper does go flying off her much elevated foot. Yet the young man lying below in the shrubery does not seem to be focused on the lady’s soon-to-be-lost shoe. Rather his wide-eyed joyful expression is aimed directly to what is under her skirts (naughty!) Given that women in that age, while sporting lots of petticoats, did not wear any panties, it makes this even naughtier. The grotto-like environment of this area surrounded by overwhelming trees allows for dark, shadowy areas where details may hide, like the figure of an older man (the husband?) who is pushing the swing. Two statues of impish little cupids seem to watch the scene as if to anticipate what troubles their arrows might be about to cause. There is a lot going on in those bushes! (I’ll let your minds wander.)

Fragonard (1732-1806), of course, was the favorite painter of Madame de Pompadour, and she, the favorite of King Louis XV of France. Sadly the artist’s style of painting became somewhat passé before Madame died, and worse when the French Revolution broke out. Fragonard high tailed it to Grasse, his hometown, where his family home can still be visited. Note: The lovely paintings that adorn the walls there are copies. The orignals were purchased by Henry Clay Frick in 1900 for his museum in New York City.

Here is the great lady herself, in a painting that screams, “Think Pink!” This is one of the many done of her by another of her favorite artists, François Boucher. Boucher of course had a penchant for a certain young model named Marie-Louise O’Murphy whom he painted lying on her stomach while sprawled upon a sofa. (See a critique of it here www.independent.co.uk) Louise went on to become another of Louis XV’s mistresses.

Mezzetin by Jean-Antoine Watteau, 1718-1720 metmuseum.org

Louis XIV died in 1715 and most of the court moved back to their mansions in Paris from which they cast out the heavy Baroque decor in favor of that which was light, in search of a sort of eternal springtime. Much of the design work revolved around the use of shells, pebbles, small rock, stucco, and the like. From those shells, rocks, and pebbles called rocaille comes the name Rococo. Suddently as restraints were lifted, there was a lot of partying going on. It was the Roaring 20s fueled in 18th century style by a release from the repression of all that religion from the previous century.

No one captured the festive mood better than Jean-Antoine Watteau, whose paintings of richly dressed ladies and gents frolicking in luscious gardens, were also populated by commedia dell’ arte figures like the one above, dressed in striped costume with a floppy hat, knee pants and silvery white stockings (do notice the pink pom-poms on the shoes). Once again there is a figure in the darkness of this bountiful garden. Where might she be going? (Many were the allusions to assignations in the gardens.) Watteau’s most famous painting is Gilles or Pierrot, a character from the commedia, which oddly gives the flip side of all the merriment.

Here we see not just the character from the commedia dell’arte stock of characters but an actor in the costume of Pierrot, the lovesick clown. Pierrot’s unrequited love for Columbine puts him in competition with Harlequin, a battle that he loses since Columbine’s heart does not belong to Pierrot. The French call this painting Gilles, and he is the symbol of one who has lost his way. In the larger painting one sees his fellow actors laughing and having a good time, while this lonely figure stands full length in the foreground with his hands compliantly down to his sides and the face of someone who knows not who he is beyond his role on stage. Perhaps he is a true April Fool.

Il Ridotto by Pietro Longhi in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. Hover over image to magnify.

Meanwhile in Venice, no place partied heartier than La Serenissima, where the custom of advertsing Venice as a city of charm used the yearly carnival as a lure. In the 18th century, the Rococo carnival began to last almost the whole year, which gave plenty of time for masked people (residents and visitors) to engage in mischief. Just think of Casanova who lived from 1725-1798, the perfect rococo character for the Rococo Age. The Venetian carnival became so notorious that in 1797, carnival was banned completely.

Thomas Gainsborough’s famous Blue Boy, 1770. Hover over image to magnify.

Let’s not leave out the distant shores of the British Isles. It was Huguenots fleeing religious persecution in France that brought the foundations of Rococo to England, where one of its most famous pieces of the period was created. The piece, originally called Portrait of a Young Gentleman, was rumored to have been done as a tour de force painting to disprove Sir Joshua Reynolds’ contention that blue should only be an accent color. That seems indeed to have been a rumor started by the press. (Oh, the British tabloids, already in full swing.) However, the depiction of this fine young man (it is still not clear who the sitter really was) could represent either a young man of standing who might become someone’s eligible marriage partner or simply a study for an overdone costume for an aristocratic masquerade ball. The costume for a ball idea dovetails with the clothing not being from Gainesborough’s time but from that of the painter he most admired, Anthony Van Dyke, who lived and worked in England in the 1600s during the reign of Charles I (the unfortunate one who had his head lopped off).

Looking at the painting and its frills and frou-frou, one does still get to see exceptional painting. In particular in The Blue Boy (the name Gainesborough’s work eventually was given), one sees the amazing rendering of satin and lace as well as fine portraiture in the face of the young man. He is elegant from the shiny satin cape hung over his arm right down to the big blue satin bows on his shoes.

In terms of how all this came about, of course, one could guess what would happen after the seriousness and religion of the 17th century’s Baroque period. Based on normal human behavior, the mood would swing to happier more joyful images. Yes, but in this case, the swing just kept going higher and higher. Rococo (sometimes dated from 1700-1790) was the kicking off of the shoe! Everything went over the top and eventually spilled over into the French Revolution, which could be seen as the excessive counterswing to the wild and frivolous Rococo.

That is the thing about the Rococo. There was a fanciful lightness to it, at least for those in a position to enjoy its loveliness. Few were the hints of dark clouds on the horizon, though old Louis XV himself must have known, for he is credited with saying, “Aprés moi le deluge” or “After me the deluge.” Oh well, it was good while it lasted.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Images used are in public domain and/or linked to specific websites where further information is given.

Over the Top Wines, Good for that Rococo Feeling.

Unusual Sparkling Wines www.beinspired.au

The Rococo looked for interesting combinations of things, and given that it was a movement in reaction to the stodgy, things that had a fresh new attitude were all the rage. Applying that to looking for wines to enjoy, sparkling wines certainly are at the top of the list, for nothing lifts the spirits like a glass of bubbly. The ones above bear considering if nothing more than they come from somewhat unusal places, England, Switzerland, Japan, as well as more commonly considered wine producers like Italy and Australia. Click the link above to check out what BeInspired has to say about them.

I went on a search with a few different criteria. I wanted choices that were light, summery, affordable but which also had some quirky differences. Here is what I found.

Summer in a Bottle by Wolfer Estate https://store.wolfer.com. It is a light sparking wine of pale golden color made mostly from Chardonnay but with Sauvignon Blanc, Gewurtztraminer, Riesling and Pinot Blanc grapes. It is sophisticated, fruity and fresh. $26.00

Blanc de Bleu Cuvée Mousseux, a non-vintage brut that is true to its name – blue. It is flamboyant (how Rococo) but “delicious and pleasurable.” Pairs well with hors d’oeuvres. It is the first blue California sparkler. www.blancdebleuusa.com Their motto is “drink the unexpected.” $16.00

Peche Imperiale, well of course peaches are imperial. This one comes from La France from the region of Saumur in the Loire Valley. Made using the traditional Champagne Méthodoise, this sparkler is fruity with an “exquisite flavor” described as “unique and elegant.” $12.99 bottlerepublic.com

Rescue Dog, demi-sec, love the name because it has a raunchy side to it. They have a sparkling rosé, a demi-sec, and a blanc de blancs all between $27.99 and $37.99. And here is the Rescue Dog part, 50% of the profits go to animal rescue operations around the U.S.A. rescuedogwines.com

Finally, yes, I had to go there, just to honor the mistresses of Louis XV, Bitch Bubbly. This is a sparkling rose from Spain, and its story is what happens when you have thousands of cases of Grenache wine that you must find a way to use. $14.99 plummarket.com

Tomorrow is April Fool’s Day but none of these will fool you. Enjoy!

Note: I am not affiliated with any of the wines or wine merchants mentioned in this article.

©marjorie vernelle 2023

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“From Below Upwards,” Tiepolo in Art and in Wine.

The Divine Lovers Perseas and Andromeda by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, 1730-1731. Modello in the collection of the Frick Museum, New York City. Hover over image to magnify.

It should be no wonder that Giovanni Battista Tiepolo (1696-1770) would be the chosen artist to paint many a domed ceiling, for if there were ever a master of painting skies, it would be Tiepolo. This modello of what was once on the walls of the now ruined Palazzo Archinto (destroyed in World War II) was purchased in 1916 by Henry Clay Frick, and gives us the only view of the composition and colors of the original work. It leaves us to imagine how glorious this would have looked on the enormous walls and high vaulted ceilings of the palazzo. The main things to notice here in this allegorical painting of an Ancient Greek myth are the upward movement of the figures, which swirl upwards in an “S” shape into a golden heaven, and yes, that golden sky.

Venetian painters have always been noted for their use of color. In fact, it was one of the things the Florentines were quite snooty about. In their world view, drawing was the basis for every painting. They gasped with disapproval when it was reported that the great Titian might make only a light sketch then proceed to paint his figures paying no attention at all to that sketch. Added to this was the penchant of the Venetians for beautiful colors. Of course, as lovely as Florence is, it does not have the beauty of the sea and the wonderous effects it creates when it plays with the colors of the sky. Venice has that and lovely, colorful architecture to match. Tiepolo, like the other great masters of the 18th century, the Vedutisti (painters of Venetian scenes) Canaletto and Francesco Guardi, for example, infused his paintings with wonderful cloud-filled skies with colors ranging from misty blue-gray to these fiery oranges touched with a deep rose.

To settle into a session of viewing Tiepolo’s work, such as the masterpiece above, one must consider that modern classic Venetian drink, the Bellini. First created at Harry’s Bar in the 1948 when Giuseppe Cipriani poured a mixture of peach purée and prosecco, it was named for the

color of a saint’s cloak in a painting by Giovanni Bellini. Bellini, a 15th century Renaissance master, stands at the head of a long line of great Venetian painters. A sip of Bellini and a viewing of some of the Tiepolo’s work in the video Tiepolo in Milan, the Lost Frescoes of the Palazzo Archinto (youtube.com) is a fine way to escape the cares of the day and relax into the evening. And should you want to find out more about the Bellini (like the recipe) checkout the Eataly website: eataly.com (Photo credit: Eataly).

Würzberg Residenz Grand Staircase (commons.wikimedia.org) 1750-53 Hover over image to magnify.

It would be no surprise that Tiepolo’s talent would not remain only in Italy. In 1750, Prince Bishop Karl Philip von Greiffenklau commissioned Tiepolo to paint the interior of his residence in Bavaria. Tiepolo arrived with his son, Giamdominico, and tackled what would become the largest frescoed ceiling painting ever made, 190 x 30.5 meters (roughly 623′ x 100′). It depicts in fine Rococo style an elaborate piece called Apollo and the Four Continents. Once again the view has an upward movement with the figures around the base of the painting representing what was accepted in the 1700s as the continents: Europe, Asia, Africa, and America.

At the center of the action of course is the Sun God himself. Apollo is carried aloft in the company of two women who hold his iconic lyre and torch. While a few other gods are present in the skies, it is Apollo’s journey across the skies as the sun that takes center stage in an otherwise clear sky of pastel blue and deep rosy pink clouds. The effect when walking up the staircase is that of seeing the open sky filled with divine beings. The whole sensation is one of being lifted up.

Bavaria – you thought it was only beer country. Think again. The Franconia area is quite favorable to winemaking, especially the Würzberg Stein, which produces a dry white wine made from Silvaner grapes, called steinwein. Beyond that you might try an off-dry Riesling while taking in a video of the palace (youtube.com)

If you are thinking of making an actual visit to Bavaria, certainly consider taking a wine tour in Franconia. The article, “You know Bavaria for beer, but you should be going for wine,” (matadornetwork.com) says it all. It is a good way to open your eyes to these wines or find one here at home before you settle in to viewing videos of Tiepolo’s beautiful work

The Virgin of the Immaculate Conception by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, 1767-69 museodelprado.es

Tiepolo ended his career in Madrid (1762-1770) in the service of King Charles III who had him paint an enormous ceiling fresco in the throne room of the royal palace. It represented the Glory of Spain by depicting Spain’s then fading conquest of the Americas (revolutions freed those Spanish colonies in 1810-1820). However, the king took advantage of the great artist’s presence in Madrid for other projects as well. His royal church of San Pascual Bailón commissioned seven altarpieces. The close up above shows the beautifully modeled face of Mary, whose distinct features and porcelain-like skin contrast with the loose handling of the modest, tan, scarf that surrounds her head.

The larger painting seen here shows once again Tiepolo’s use of soft colors for the skies, while contrasting them with blues and beiges. A passel of putti (baby angels) surrounds her, with one trying to hide under her cloak. The faces put on those angels range from adoring to downright mischievious. Take a look at the full picture on the Museo del Prado website linked above. Regardless of their expressions, we see that Tiepolo presents Mary with a calm demeanor, her eyes turned to inner reflection. Once again the movement in the painting is upward with lots of open sky around the upper part of the painting.

Making beautiful paintings in Spain and the ever increasing demands of King Charles III helped to bring an end to Tiepolo who died in March of 1770 in Madrid. It may have even been difficult for the painter to be paid by the king, which only would have exacerbated conditions of poor health and old age. However, the glory of Tiepolo’s fabulous creations are the hallmark of the Rococo period in art and should be saluted, perhaps with a glass of good Spanish sherry from Jerez! To find out more about those see explorelatierra.com

One of the Five essential Sherries “Bodegas in Jerez” (devourtours.com)

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Images used are in public domain and/or linked to specific websites where further information is given.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2023

Coming Soon: Rocking Rococo and Some Wines to Go With It.

Jean-Honore Fragonard’s The Swing, 1767. Hover over image to magnify.

The Baroque period brought back the human figure as it had been seen in classical times, as opposed to the elongated, often twisting figures of the Mannerist Period in the 16th century. However, the 18th century decided that Baroque did not go far enough, so what we now call Rococo came into fashion to amuse everyone with its frills and fantasy, as the world of European royal courts headed to the French Revolution. And yes, they did drink a lot of wine.

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Old Quebec, the Art of Chrismas and Wine!

La Boutique de Noel in Old Quebec City

You know you have found Christmas when there is a shop that is dedicated only to the holiday. Open every day of the year, except Christmas Day, this shop is several floors of wonderful decorations. Decoration and Christmas are fine arts in Old Quebec City, the provincial capitol of Quebec and a United Nations World Heritage site. Last year, I found myself longing for that “Christmas feeling,” as the holiday itself slipped by me. It wasn’t until two days after the big day that I found a a series of wonderful videos (see link below) on Quebec City at Christmas. I immediately decided I wanted to go there for the holidays, and this year I did.

The Chateau Frontenac, named for the first governor of New France, the Count of Frontenac, was actually built by the Canadian Pacific Railroad in 1893. It was designed from the beginning to be a grand hotel of the kind that would appeal to the patrons of long-distance, luxury railroad travel. Quebec City, itself, was founded in 1608, a date celebrated in the Frontenac, which is now a Fairmont Hotel, in its 1608 Bar, a fine place to taste some Quebecois wine and/or Romeo gin, also from Quebec. The 1608 makes a very good dry martini.

While there was no snow during my visit, a blessing when I had to navigate Côte de la Montagne street (Side of the Mountain St.) and the Escalier Casse Cou (Break Neck Stairs), on any visit to the Frontenac, where many a tourist stops to get warmed up, one could enjoy the virtual snowfall projected onto the elevators. The city shows its charms in its lively Christmas markets, where all kinds of local products and foods are sold. There are puppet shows for the children, vin chaud (hot wine) for the adults, and various choral groups that sing carols in the streets. After a visit to the very modern Museum of Civilization, I happened upon a crowd that was cheering on a highwire performer (yes, without a net), as he did a headstand, seemingly without fear of falling to the cobblestone street below!

Pictured here: Break Neck Stairs, View from Funicular, and a Tightrope Walker

Quebec City is a very walkable city though it is built upon a high plateau. In the Haute Ville, the upper city, dominated by the Chateau Frontenac, one can find plenty to do, and many fine places to eat. Three Christmas markets line the streets that are themselves full of shops. My favorite little side street is La Rue du Tresor (The Street of the Treasure) which is lined with art work. The artists along this street put their work outside, making a delightful display for those passing by.

La Rue du Tresor with its open air art galleries

As I traveled downhill to the lower city to find the wonderfully modern and beautifully designed Musée de la Civilization, I discovered an area full of fine art galleries on Sault du Matelot (Sailor’s Jump). Of course, as seems to be the custom, they were nicely decorated for the season.

Sault du Matelot on the way to ehe Musée de la Civilization is full of art galleries.

On the hill with the Frontenac are a number of prestigious old chateaux. Most have been wisely converted into hotels. I stayed at such a one, the Hotel Nomad (featured also in the Walking Alice video mentioned below). The old building has been delightfully converted into a charming space that is filled with its own artistic touches. One of my favorites is how they preserved this 18th century sofa by suspending it at an angle and enclosing it in a giant picture frame. The charms of the place do not stop there, as you can see in the photos below. This is added to by a warm, friendly, and helpful staff.

The charming environment of the Hotel Nomad, with a French spiral staircase, held many delights. My room had a wild animal theme and bedside tables made from old suitcases, plus all the normal conveniences. The big red chair at the reception area was always a welcome place to put on the heavy coat needed for those freezing temperatures.

So where is the food and wine?

I hear you. I must admit that while I had some excellent food and wine, I did not in my short stay in Old Quebec have time to do a lot of wine tasting. (I dream of doing that on a summertime trip.) However, for those who think that Quebec has no wine culture, au contraire mes chers amis! In the Eastern Township area, one finds L’Orpailleur Winery, started in 1982 and open year round for tastings. Côte d’Ardoise is literally a route through an area of 25 vineyards that produce red, white, rose, and ice wines.

This lovely dish was served up at the 1640 Restaurant, a great place to stop on a day that was -2 degees Farenheit, and is in the upper city near the Frontenac. I had a grilled pork chop covered in goat cheese which rested on a bed of vegetables: asperagus, carrots, red pepper, baby bok choy, and scalloped potatoes in a sauce with a touch of white wine. The wine I drank was Canadian, a Pinot Grigio from Sandbank Estates in Prince Edward Island. My food delights continued daily with grilled salmon and fabulously fresh salad, and the seafood classic you see below.

Moules et Frites, a French tradition with a glass of Les Jemelles Sauvignon Blanc from Burgundy.

Of course when it came to sitting out in an outdoor patio in a balmy 19 degrees Farenheit, I went for the vin chaud, hot wine, made in the Côte de l’Ardoise area in Quebec. The outdoor patios have fire installations, the flames of which keep you warm while you relax with that hot wine.

Ways to warm up: Museum of Civilization with red chairs around a warming station, at the Tresor de la Rue restaurant outdoor patio, and just on the street.

So I will end this little tour of Old Quebec at Christmastime by saying that it is a delight. I am sure that is true in other seasons as well; however, Christmas is really special. I’ll sign off with my favorite dessert and a Merry Christmas salute!

Creme brulée and Marjorie having a good time in Old Quebec. Merry Christmas!

Photos used in this post are ones taken by me on my recent winter vacation to Quebec City.

For some excellent videos on Christmas in Quebec, look at these by Walking Alice and there was snow. youtube.com

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com  and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: The Magic Skies of Tiepolo, Smooth as Venetian Soave.

Divine Lovers

Certainly the grand works of this 18th century master of Venetian painting are a wonder to see, and best served with an essential wine from the Veneto, Soave.

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Ballpoint Pen Magic, Plus Châteauneuf du Pape.

Le Palais des Papes The Popes’ Palace in Avignon, France

Perhaps it is the winter winds that bring to mind my years studying art history at the Petit Palais Museum in Avignon. How many Mondays did I leave the small palace to come out to the view of the looming medieval Popes’ Palace, with its crenulated defensive walls and arrow slits? Many Mondays, but none of which I ever regretted. Seeing the old palace in the grays of winter with the winds whipping up from the Rhone River and whirling about the plaza in front of that wonderful old historic building made impressions that will never leave my soul.

Avignon, medieval demeure of the Popes, walled city of Mistral winds, cobbled stone streets, and Côte du Rhone wine also presents numerous ways to engage the arts. From museums with programs to teach the art history of the middle ages to a university for those who have free time (Université de Temps Libre) to take art history courses and art history trips, there are many ways to be involved with the arts. And not everything relates to the city’s glorious past in the 14th century.

Among my favorite associations is the Maison d’Art Contemporain de Avignon or MACA for short. Its sincere dedication to contemporary art manifests every March in a substantial show of art from known artists in the region. Presented at the Cloitre Saint Louis, a beautiful cloistered building with an elegant hotel on one side of a large courtyard with a fountain and gigantic plane trees, the exhibition takes up the other side of what had been a convent. In this huge, elegant exhibition space of three floors, the MACA exposition is a cultural highlight of the many such events in Avignon. With MACA I traveled to the Biennale in Venice, to the Côte d’Azur, and to artists’ studios all throughout the Provençal countryside.

A Collection of Animals by Xavier Spatafora as shown on Maison France5 https://www.france.tv/france-5/la-maison-france-5/

However, it was not necessary to leave the city itself for one of the most memorable studio visits I experienced – the studio of Xavier Spatafora. At the time his studio was just east of the Place de l’Horloge in the center of town. We entered a rather lovely older apartment with fireplaces, high ceilings, and carved wooden door frames. Its state at the time, however, was not that of a classically French apartment. No, this was a live-in art studio, filled with the materials that were the making of the surfaces Spatafora used for his drawings.

He collects old posters, shreds them, then molds them together to make sturdy heavily layered supports in organic shapes like torn pages. Upon these surfaces of thick compressed poster paper, where lines of print and bits of color from the old posters remain, he draws in fine ink lines fabulous animals, portraits, and objects (a pair of dice, for instance). At the time of my visit, he was doing this precise drawing with ballpoint pen. Yes, ballpoint pen, and this artist goes through a lot of them (buy stock in BIC). The pieces are huge, some from floor to almost the ceiling, which makes walking through the studio a series of surprises, as you never know what animal you may be confronted with next.

Elephant by Xavier Spatafora

Once you become accustomed to the size of these creatures and the detail of their rendering, other aspects emerge. Here is where the effect of the shredded posters comes into play, for these wild creatures stand out against the remnants of newsprint, ad copy, names, and other tidbits of modern society. The effect is that of a startling juxtaposition of nature against what we call civilization. That gigantic elephant which walks so slowly forward seems symbolic of the patience of Nature that tolerates us, knowing full well it can destroy us in an instant.

The making of the supports for the huge drawings is quite an act of creation itself. Spatafora has been called an archeologist, because of his collecting of posters that in themselves show the history of all kinds of events in Avignon. In some ways, though, his creations of layers and strata of papers and posters create objects more akin to sedimentary rock, making him perhaps a geologist as well.

In case you wondered if this artist does anything small and delicate, you have only to look at this little fragment showing a twig and small bird to understand that he appreciates the tiny creatures as well as the large ones that roam the earth and the sea.

Spatafora’s work has continued to grow over the years since I first saw his beautiful creations in his studio in Avignon. The magnificence of his drawing skills continues to astound. This portrait of his own hand makes a comment on both the artist and art history. It is positioned very much like the hand that Michelangelo’s Adam reaches toward the figure of God in the Sistine Chapel. Yet this is not an elegant hand, but rather one of a skilled workman. Spatafora etches for us all of the muscles, lines, wrinkles, cracks, and crevices developed through the working of materials to make the art. This drawing of the hand in monumental size, more than a drawing is a badge of courage.

The artist in front of another drawing of a hand midilibre.fr

You can find more of Xavier Spatafora’s work on the following websites:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/xavierspatafora/?hl=en

His website: https://spatafora.fr/home

Images used for this post are used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of critique, review and discussion.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Châteauneuf du Pape – Divine Wine.

Châteauneuf du Pape The summer palace called the New Palace of the Pope. Photo from wikipedia.org.

Having the grand palace in Avignon (see first photo in this post) was not quite enough for the old popes of the 14th century. They decided that they liked spending the hot summer months high on a hill overlooking a lush valley which they filled with vineyards. So, off they went along the Rhone River to a new location which became known as Châteauneuf (new chateau) du Pape (of the Pope). Little wonder then that the vineyards started by Pope John XXII would bear the same name as the chateau.

Châteauneuf du Pape is the premier wine of the Côte du Rhone region. It was the first wine in France to be granted its AOC (appellation d’origine controlée) in 1936 when that process of verification of quality began. The vineyards in the area have perfect grape growing conditions since the area is near the Mediterranean, which has hot sunny days that cool a bit at night.

The soil varies from sand to gravel to red clay. However, one important feature are the “pudding stones” or galets roulés, which refer to the round quartzite stones that cover much of the ground which was once a river bed. From the photo here one can see what these stones look like. They absorb the summer heat but then keep the earth warm at night so that the vines have a more even distribution of heat day and night. (Photo from tasteoffrancemag.com

The wines from this area are normally blends of red wines, though some are made from just a single grape, the grenache. Chateau Rayas, for example, grows only grenache grapes on its 32 acre vineyard and uses only those grapes for its wine. Other versions with the Châteauneuf appellation can be made from up to 13 different wines, though most will still be 80% grenache. The normal mixture is granache, syrah, and mourvedre or GSM combination.

The iron-rich soil gives the wine a certain punch but not so much tannin. The winemakers here do blend white grenache into the mix with the regular red grenache. Most of them also make a white wine from the white grenache grapes, though the wine wines only account for 7% of the wine production of Châteauneuf du Pape wines. Many of the winemakers are now also making organic wines. This can be especially true for the smaller vineyards where they may specialize in just one type of grape. The least expensive Châteauneuf du Pape wines can run from $15 to $26. The most expensive can run from $150 to $2,000.

My personal experience of the wine was at the chateau for a harvest celebration put on by the local vintners. They had called upon members of the regional opera ochestra, OLRAP, which was located in Avignon but which served the cultural musical needs of the surrounding area. One of the musicians is a close friend of mine so I was lucky enough to attend the event. The music was good and so was the wine.

Boeuf Bourguignon meatandwinetravel.com

You will notice that the delicious concoction above comes from a website mentioning meat in its URL. That is because this wine is definitely for meats. Anything from beef to lamb to venison and roasted duck or wild game is great with these wines. Top of that list of meaty fair would be the noble hamburger smothered in mushrooms. To take a look at some of those recipes go to drinkandpair.com (You’ll see that hamburger gets a 4.5 star rating!)

So thank you for indulging my walk down memory lane in my old “hometown” of Avignon and its surroundings. May you someday go there, visit the Pope’s summer palace and enjoy the wine.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com  and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming in December: Quebec City, the Art of Christmas and Wine.

Christmas Lights in Quebec City.

Yes, I found where Christmas hangs out – Quebec City, Canada. And Of Art and Wine will take you there. Happy Holidays!

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Halloween Special: Five Haunting Paintings, and Tales from the Vines.

While the most haunting (haunted?) painting is the portrait of Dorian Gray, it lives only in the words of Oscar Wilde and not on canvas. However, there are a few on canvas that will raise the hair on the back of your neck. Let’s take a look.

David with the Head of Goliath by Caravaggio, 1607 Hover over image to magnify.

Caravaggio, whose first name was also Michelangelo, gives us two to look at. Medusa (1597) shows the terrified face of the gorgon whose gaze turned one to stone. Perseus caught her gaze in the mirror of his polished shield so was able to avoid her direct stare and behead her without turning to stone himself. Clever old Greek. Caravaggio’s version hints at his own self-portrait.

In 1607, Caravaggio goes there – yes, his head of Goliath is a self-portrait (see painting at top of the page). The severed head as self-portrait became a consistent theme for the artist after he had to flee Rome for having committed murder. He had fled to Rome after killing someone in Milan. Then having a death sentence on his head after his misadventure in Rome, he scurried farther south to Naples. Many of the paintings he did after he fled Rome were done as a way to expiate his sins. It is thought that the youthful David represents the artist’s wish to cleanse his soul and renew his life. Sadly that did not happen.

Saturn Devouring His Son by Francisco Goya, 1819-1823.

Francisco de Goya y Lucientes, one of Spain’s greatest painters, lived through many good times and a whole lot of bad ones. When his country was invaded by Napoleon, who put a relative on the throne of Spain, Goya painted an execution of Spanish citizens by French troops, Third of May (1808). That patriotic fervor, however, did not keep him from painting pictures for the new regime. When the Spanish monarchy was finally restored under Ferdinand VII, the king said to Goya, “You should be hanged, but since you are a great painter, we forgive you.” Whew!

Goya lived for a number of years in a house known as The House of the Deaf Man (La Quinta del Sordo), and yes, he was deaf, though not the one the house was named for. In that house, Goya painted a number of gruesome pieces known as the Black Paintings. They were comments on human behavior. One of the ones in the dining room was Saturn Devouring His Son, based on the myth that Saturn, having become afraid of the rising power of the younger gods, his children, decided to devour them. We see Saturn’s psychopathic fury in the bulging eyes and gaping black hole of a mouth that the painter gives him.

The Scream by Edvard Munch (1892) is the artist’s visual for a panic attack he suffered when crossing a bridge in Kristiania near Oslo, Norway. The red of the sunset seemed to him to be a howl or scream by nature. Munch is known for psychologically stirring paintings, like The Child and Death, which shows a young girl with her hands to her head as she stands beside the bed in which her mother is dying. Interestingly, when the Nazis were in Norway during WWII, they visited

Munch’s studio to see if his art should be declared decadent and then destroyed. Munch was terrified. The Nazi inspectors came. They looked around in wonder. They left and never returned.

The Ambassadors by Hans Holbein, the Younger, 1533.

Holbein shows off his skills in this painting, and it is thought that was one of the motivations for his anamorphic representation of a skull. (Yes, that is the thing you see a sliver of in the foreground of the painting). The fine young men in the painting are men of the world, as represented by the items that surround them, a globe, books, a mandolin, and their own fine robes. However, life is temporary, and all good things come to an end, hence the skull. The trick to this skull is that it was painted to be fully visible when seen from the side. Thus, it is thought that the painting was meant to hang on a stairway, where one might get a sideview as one ascended or descended the stairs.

The anamorphic skull in The Ambassadors Hover over image to magnify.
The Blue Mustang (“Blucifer”) at Denver International Airport by Luis Jimenez. Hover over image to magnify.

Okay, this isn’t a painting, but since we started with a piece of literature, why not end with a sculpture? This mustang, a rightful image of the west, is a 9,000 pound fiberglass sculpture that has taken on the demonic local name “Blucifer.” Not only is this electric blue animal of frightening proportions (oddly its long front legs might make it impossible for this creature to walk should they ever straighten out), but also because it committed patricide. Yes, part of it fell off and severed an artery in the leg of the sculptor! He died from the wound.

So there you have it, a few spooky things from the art world to kick off your Halloween. Now let’s move on to wines, ghostly vineyards and wineries.

Tales from the Vines: Haunted Wineries, Vineyards and Spooky Wines.

The inspiration for Byron Blatty’s Ghost Cat Wine byronblatty.com

Before the agricultural areas around Los Angeles became citrus groves, they held California’s fledgling wine industry. Prohibition, plant diseases, and property development killed off the area’s early winemaking efforts. However, Byron Blatty is bringing winemaking back to the area with his selection of red wine blends. The most intriguing is Ghost Cat, inspired by a puma that roams the hills near the famous Hollywood sign. In keeping with its quality and the rare sightings of the big cat it is named for, this wine goes for $44.99 a bottle. The wine has aromas of candied black fruit and goes divinely well with cheeseburgers and jalapeno-accented dishes.

Autumn Wine from simplemost.com “13 Spooky Wines Under $20 for Halloween”

Wines that conjure up the spirit(s) of the season have names like Hocus Pocus, Slight of Hand, Phantom Chardonnay, Sinister Hand, and other such spooky names wine.com. Most of these are red wines and some like The Dip, named for a demon dog of Catalan fame, even come in a black bottle with red print. Red, the darker the better, is the preferred color, and if you think about vampire activity, then you can guess why that might be. Reds also go well with the heavier foods served in the chill autumn weather, especially heavily ladened burgers and peppery Mexican dishes.

The Beringer Winery in the Napa Valley of California thewinetraveler.com

When it comes to haunted vineyards and wineries, just the look of some of the main buildings at a winery can call up memories of Dark Shadows and Barnabas Collins. While the Beringer Winery has this wonderful old chateau, The Rhine House, which was modeled after buildings in France’s Bordeaux region, it seems to be so full of mysterious sightings, noises, and other odd things that the staff keeps record of them, and when and where they happen. Kenwood Winery, also in California seems haunted by a little girl, perhaps the daughter of the original owners. She seems to run and play in the vineyards. Buena Vista Winery in the Sonoma Valley lost its original owner to an alligator in Nicaragua. Though his body was never recovered, his spirit seems to haunt the winery.

Don’t think that haunted vineyards and wineries are only in California. In places where one does not immediately think of wine and wineries, like in the Rocky Mountains, Wild Women Winery in Denver (home of “Blucifer”) hosts a Haunted Denver Wine Tasting. Guests are given a guided lecture through some of the city’s most famous haunted places while relaxing and enjoying a wine tasting. So there is plenty that you can do to spice up your Halloween either by buying one of these wines or finding a ghost tour at some local winery or wine bar. Be careful out there!

Paintings referred to are in public domain. Other photos are linked to websites where they appear.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com and etsy.com/shop/VernelleArt Studio

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and     CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Ballpoint Pen Magic, Plus Châteauneuf du Pape.

Hand by Xavier Spatafora

Xavier Spatafora is a master at pen and ink drawing. Not only that, he makes the surfaces that he draws on from old posters that he gathers from in and around Avignon, France. The combination of the refined drawing and the rough mixture of old posters some of the print of which shows through in the drawing makes for a great combination of the classical and the modern.

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Disrupted Realism, Blogging, and Wine.

“Disrupted realism is a term that describes works of art made by artists who have deviated from the norms of realism. These deviations, which may include one or more formal elements – such as, line, form and color – are made intentionally, often through improvisation, to serve expressive purposes. By “disrupting” and expanding the tradition of realism, artists may suggest time, memory, and individual experience or refer to digital, photographic, or cinematic sources. It is a subjective approach to painting that favors perception over seeing and embraces subjectivity.” from Disrupted Realism, Paintings for a Distracted World by John Seed.

Portrait (red bathrobe) Anne Harris, 2012. Hover over image to magnify.

Anne Harris takes us into that feeling of disruption in a way that we can all relate to: the early morning brain fog. You don’t have to be a psychologist or an art historian to understand this one. The frazzled ends of the woman’s hair wave about like antenna seeking a signal from somewhere, something that can be latched onto to guide this figure forward. The extremely long red robe seems like a fun-house mirror’s reflection of reality, yet is the actuality perceived in the morning haze of the figure’s mind. The red bathrobe stands in a surround of pale, fuzzy, gray highlights, representing the presence of life which will emerge to become the day-to-day world of activity. Yet, for the present, all is safeguarded in the comforting warmth of the red robe. When John Seed asked the artist how her work disrupts or deviates from traditional realism, Harris said, “I can’t even engage with the term’traditional realism.’ Painting is fiction, invention. That is what interests me.”

Stories #10 by Radu Belcin. Hover over image to magnify.

We all know times when the figure in this painting represents how we feel. Some incorporeal fisherman has netted our brains. We are pulled first one way and then another, trying to understand surroundings which can’t be seen clearly. At the same time, we do not struggle because the whole thing is just too bizarre, and we don’t want to admit that we have been caught in the net. The Net metaphor can have some obvious implications with regard to our daily lives in cyberspace; however, this figure can surely imply other nets into which we have fallen in terms of our belief systems, whether religious, political, or historical. This man in gray, positioned in a beige/brown surround, may be a type of modern Everyman caught in a trap of conflicting perceptions that originate he knows not where. When Belcin was asked how his work disrupts reality, he responded, “…the main element that I work with is the action that’s taking place behind the visual elements: that which is not actually represented but only felt or perceived.”

The Magician, Justin Bower, 2015 Hover over image to magnify.

“My aim is to make images that resonate today and that could only be made in this era,” says Justin Bower. The doubled imagery of the figure in the painting above takes us into the world of bits and bites, mega and giga, yet the face is still recognizably human while it is being shape-shifted by whatever technology attempts to reorganize it. I posit that were this image shown to someone before the computer age, there would have been no way for it even to be “seen.” Yet, we in this age recognize it at least as what can happen when one’s computer is having a bad day. On the level of “The Magician,” this image of the coming apart and reshaping of reality is very much akin to the meaning of the tarot card of the same name. Only here instead of earth, water, air, and fire, the computer wizard uses the elements in his or her toolbar to rework reality. When asked how his work distrupts reality, Bower says,”I paint my subjects as destabilized post-humans in a nexus of interlocking spatial systems.”

The cover of John Seed’s book uses a painting by David Bilodeau called Solace (2018). The face and the hand of this figure are finely wrought, but covered with a variety of substances that fall upon it like plaster, as though someone wanted to cover up what was underneath, and hide the reality of solitude. Bilodeau says, “Realism is just a tool to make the dance of painting subtler by calling on me to observe the visual world closely.”

All this disussion of disruption in terms of painting leads to taking a look at another disruptive force that has come to the fore in recent years: Blogging. Blogging can be seen as a move toward the democratization of the word and the resulting loosening of the grip of the literary gatekeepers. John Seed relates how he came to blogging in a way that fits with the whole idea of disruption. In his case, being an artist and art instructor, he had a lot to say about art. However, when he wrote a review of a local art show, in which he seriously wrote about the art, the editors redacted his piece down to comments on a cozy garden art exhibit, so he returned the fee and told them to take his name off the article.

From there he started blogging on art, so he could say what he needed to say, and from there he became a contributor to the Huffington Post, an online news journal. One thing that stood out to me about his approach to the art in this book is that he allowed the artists to explore their own work publically. He worked from the point of view not of an art critic but of an artist who wanted to allow his fellow artists to speak . His approach was to ask a series of questions, the same ones, to each artist and present their responses along side photos of their work.

When I started to do the Art Blog on my vernellestudio.com website, not knowing of Seed, I proceeded in the same way. I am an artist not an art critic, but I have also studied lots of art history and have things to say about the art I see. I approached my fellow artists with a series of questions designed to elucidate their feelings about art and their own process. Finding another art blogger who had instinctively done the same thing was a nice confirmation that I had landed on the right path.

It seems to me that many things are shifting in our world, not the least of which is the variety of ways in which we can perceive the world around us and express that perception. In order for new things to emerge, the old must be disrupted and the ground broken open so that what germinates below may reach the sun.

The book discussed in this post is Disrupted Realism, Paintings for a Distracted World by John Seed, 2019.

The copyright to the paintings used here and in Seed’s book belong to the artists who created the paintings.

Photos of the paintings were taken by me and used here in accordance with Fair Use Policy for discussion, critique and review.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com and etsy.com/shop/VernelleArt Studio.

Wine! Oh, the Art of It.

Wine has been around since mankind first started cultivating land. As I have stated in my About page, two things that one can count on as universal human productions are art and alcoholic beverages. Here, of course, we focus on painting and wine. For sure, artists have said a few things in their paintings about the dizzying (dare I say disruptive) effects of the fruit of the vine.

The Girl with a Glass of Wine by Johannes Vermeer, 1659-1660

Oh, this picture looks like potential trouble. The young woman’s eyes are a bit too excited – all this attention and the wine, too! The man’s eyes show that he is quite pleased by the effect that his offerings of drink are having. Where might this lead? Well, the complete painting is set in a very well appointed room where not many shenannigans would take place; however, she might just say yes, to a marriage proposal. It has been discovered that the aroma of different wines replicate that of various human pheromones associated with the libido. It obviously didn’t take modern science for Vermeer to know about this – just look at the young woman’s eyes again.

Edouard Manet’s Bar at the Folies Bérgére, 1882

Edouard Manet certainly knew of the folly of wine, notice all of the bottles of champagne that line the bar and the joyous evening activities reflected in the mirror (see the lady’s legs on the trapeze in the upper left corner). Manet’s keen eye also sees another activity. He shows us the face of the barmaid, who looks rather glum despite all the gaiety around her. The barmaids were often known to dispense more than just drinks. Manet has done a bit of a trick with perspective in the way he shows the reflection of the barmaid so that the viewer of the painting can see who is talking to her. To the right of the painting, one sees the reflection of a man’s face, rosy with wine, who may in fact be propositioning the barmaid, something she doesn’t seem too happy about.

Jan Steen’s The Dissolute Household, 1663-64.

Jan Steen, one of the masters of the Dutch Golden Age is known for his earthy representations of life and excess in the time when the Dutch ruled the trade in just about everything. There is a lot of merriment going on in this scene, though it does not seem to come from any special occasion. Rather it is daily life in this affluent Dutch household. There is food everywhere, including on the floor. The lady of the house seems to be “in her cups” and asking for yet another glass of wine, while the husband cheerfully plays fiddle fingers with the maid who is pouring that glass. One child tickles the neck of a sleeping nanny. (Did she have too much wine, too?) A youngster is serving up more food while being distracted by a beggar who has poked his head and outstretched hand through the window. As for anything approaching the intellect, we see that the family is rich enough to afford books, but the lady of the house uses an open book as a footrest. This is a painting of too much of everything and wine is contributing to the disruption – dissolution – of this household.

We’ve all heard of the “sorrows of gin,” but what about the joys of wine?

This portrait from the 19th century shows a gentleman about to enjoy a glass of sherry. He has properly decanted it, and is appraising its wonderous color with a keen eye. The smile on his lips would indicate that his taste buds are warming to the idea of his first sip. We shall presume that he won’t drink the whole bottle, but he does seem to be enjoying this drink in the solitude of his study. Certainly this is a depiction of someone who enjoys a little nip, we hope after having a fine meal.

Officer and the Laughing Girl by Johannes Vermeer, 1657. Hover over image to magnify.

While there are many paintings that warn of the dangers of drink, there are also ones that show the delight of sharing a glass with someone special. It is clear in this Vermeer painting that the young woman is enjoying the company of this officer. There is no public activity depicted. The setting would seem to be the quiet of a well-kept home, in a space where the woman, who is quite well covered in terms of her clothing, feels comfortable. The man wears a very expensive hat showing that he is someone of rank. One gets the idea of two people who are enjoying one another’s company. This woman’s face seems shiny and warm, not half delirious like the young woman in Girl with a Glass of Wine. This is a scene of appropriate behavior and yes, wine is there as a complement to the occasion of this visit.

Wine, wine, fruit of the vine, can certainly influence any situation, though it need not be disruptive. Of Art and Wine supports drinking responsibly, and enjoying it.

Paintings used in this segment of the post are in Public Domain.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Featured

Santa Fe: Oh the Art, Ah the Wine!

The American Southwest is a magical place and no place more so than the oldest capitol city in the U.S., as well as the oldest European settlement west of the Mississippi – yes, Santa Fe, New Mexico. Founded c.1609 by Don Pedro de Peralta, a conquistador from Spain, today it is the cultural capitol of the Southwest. It celebrates the history of the Native-American peoples of the region, as well as its Spanish colonial past, its Mexican past, and its American present. Art reigns in Santa Fe, whether it is in the galleries, on the streets and parks, as when Indian Market happens (August) or Spanish Market (July), or just the Native American artists who set up shop under the ramada of the Governors’ Palace, just off the Plaza in the downtown area. That artistry also includes fine dining and some very good wines. Let’s explore.

Southbound view of a typical Southwestern mesa, this one on the border of Colorado and New Mexico. (Photo by M.Vernelle) Hover over image to magnify (that mountain).

It goes without saying that the grand vistas of blue-violet flattop mountains spotting the terrain are to be expected because almost everyone has seen the wonderful work of Georgia O’Keeffe. If not, then once you arrive in Santa Fe, prepare to go to the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum, 217 Johnson Street in Santa Fe (timed-tickets required) okeeffemuseum.org However, there are other icons of the Southwest to visit.

These pieces by Bill Worrell are among his Makers of Peace series

Certainly when arriving downtown to begin a gallery hop, one sees these gigantic metal pieces outside of the Worrell Gallery. The story goes that Bill Worrell (1935-2021) was caught in a violent rainstorm when canoeing on the Pecos River in 1979. He and his companions took shelter under a rock cliff and discovered petroglyphs, the ancient rock art of the Southwest. Worrell was inspired to interpret this prehistoric rock art in metal. His work has become iconic, and seeing these large pieces outside the gallery is as good a welcome to the Southwest as one might get.

Autumn Tree Stand/La Mesilla by Stann Berning, in watercolor and gouache. Photo credit Stan Berning. stanberningstudios.com Hover over image to magnify.

Of course, Santa Fe is noted for its various landscape artists, whose styles range from the strictly representational (see OfArtandWine.com “West, Southwest: Bierstadt, O’Keeffe, and Baum” ) to that which is more abstracted. Here in Berning’s work, the basics of a landscape are all there: blue sky, a stand of trees, some brush on a shallow riverbank, and a reflection. The artist creates distance with shape and colors, with the green of the trees distinquishing them from those orange ones just behind. They, in turn, from the indistinct forest of orange that itself sits in front of a distant range of blue-violet mountains, which peek through on the right corner. In the foreground, the indication of water has neither the color of the sky or the orange trees but rather fades into an indistinct pinkish-beige, which allows that colorful stand of trees to stand out against the blue of the sky. It is landscape interpreted by the artist’s eye.

However, landscape is not all there is to see. Some of the most exciting new and different work is done by Cara Romero, who uses photography to tap into the cultural mix of the Southwest to draw forth exciting images. Romero lives and works in Santa Fe, but was born into the Chemehuevi tribe in California. In Oil Boom (just below), the central figure seems to be caught up in the grimey brine of oil sludge. His arms seem to be raised in protest, while the lower body resembles a big glob of crude. The model floats because the photo was done underwater. The model is another Santa Fe artist who deals with social protest, Cannupa Luger, a native of the Standing Rock Reservation in North Dakota, which went through the protests in 2016 against the Dakota Access Pipeline. The contrast between the surface images of oil rigs pumping away and the damage done underneath brings the startling reality of the situation into perspective.

Oil Boom (upper image) and a Water Memory (lower image) both are underwater photography by Cara Romero for article by Gussie Fauntleroy, “Tapping the Regenerative Power of Art.” cararomerophotography.com

In her Water Memories series, Romero explores the powers of water. Most humans think of water as something that restores one, hence why we love hot springs, or the ocean, or just a swimming pool. Maybe it is just pre-natal memory, but the way water surrounds us and holds us is a powerful experience. Romero’s floating woman rises to the surface like some primordial creature destined to remind us that life on this planet began in the waters. Romero uses the Water Memories as a way to comment upon climate change and the rising waters of the oceans, as well as the flooding experienced on some tribal lands because of dam building.

When speaking of the primordial, Mark Spencer, goes there. This can be seen in First Flowers #1, in which he envisions what one of earth’s first flowering plants would have looked like. It, too, is depicted near a large body of water with a sky of gathering dark clouds (from some smoldering volcano?) and to help in the reproductive process, a hummingbird, surely a recent (at that time) descendant of a teradactyl.

First Flowers #1 by Mark Spencer. Photo credit to Peter Ogilvie Hover over image to magnify.

Spencer also comments on what is happening to the planet in terms of climate change.

Blue Baroque by Mark Spencer Photo credit to Peter Ogilvie from article “Nature Versus Human Nature” by Gussie Fauntleroy. Hover over image ot magnify. markspencerart.com

In a barren landscape, cracked earth stretches to a horizon from which night is falling upon a line of dusty looking clouds. In the midst of this hopelessness sits a wonderous object of blue frills with a soft greenish interior that looks oddly alive. As mysterious as the bleak obelisque in Kubrik’s 2001 Space Odyssey, rather than being ominus, it seems to offer a strange hope for rebirth, change, and the miraculous. “Hope springs eternal even under overwhelming circumstances…,” says Spencer. His Blue Baroque in this desolate landscape certainly gives one things to ponder.

DRAWING NOT PAINTING

“I came to the conclusion that the world didn’t need another painter,” said James Drake

That fateful comment was made by an artist who decided that drawing was the basis of everything “painting, sculpture, even film.” Drake does wonderful things as you can see in the piece below called Exit Juárez, in which he shows a body being tattooed the old fashioned way – by hand – with a toothbrush with bristles replaced by a needle.

Exit Juárez by James Drake from article “Making His Mark” by Nancy Zimmerman, photo by Peter Ogilvie. Hover over image to magnify.

It was James Drake’s work that I chose to use as a social media teaser for this blog article on Santa Fe and art. As someone who likes to draw but never had great success with the human figure, I was in awe of this artist’s skill and chose these pages from Trend Magazine‘s article “Making His Mark,” about James Drake, to show his talent. The work in total is called Can We Know the Sound of Forgiveness. Forgiveness is as naked a truth as we wll ever know, so his choice of these figures is quite appropriate.

For more of a studio visit to see James Drake’s work, go to this article on southwestcontemporary.com.

Cafe des Artistes on Lincoln Avenue in Santa Fe, NM

No, the above is not a painting. It is where you go to rest and contemplate the art that you have seen while cruising the galleries of downtown Santa Fe. There is a lot going on in terms of art in the galleries both downtown and on the famous Canyon Road, as well as in these artists’ studios. So when you go to Santa Fe, grab a gallery guide, and any of the magazines that fill you in on what is happening with art in the area. You will be glad you did.

Special thanks to my friend, designer and pastel artist, Sandra Pérez, a long-time Santa Fe resident who was my hostess with the mostest. Find out more about her work in this article from The Art Blog on vernellestudio.com.

Articles used for this post are from Trend, Art+Design+Culture and to read more fascinating information on the arts go to trendmagazineglobal.com

Images of artwork are used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of critique and discussion.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com and etsy.com/shop/VernelleArt Studio.

Ah, the Wine!

New Mexico as seen by Kavel Rafferty for Wine Enthusiast winemag.com

As Rafferty’s illustration points out, New Mexico is a fanciful collection of many things, including that little drawing of a wine bottle and glass. Wine grapes in New Mexico! Isn’t it too much of a desert for that? Au contraire mes chers amis! New Mexico’s sandy soil allows for excellent drainage, while its desert climate allows for hot days and cool nights, which the vines love as that keeps the acidity in the grapes. That climate also keeps pests and rot away from the vines, while the high altitudes (400 to 6,700 feet) produce thicker skins, giving stronger tannins and more concentrated color. The only downside is the potential for freezes in spring and later in the harvesting season. Of course, that might prompt some to do what the Germans did in the 1700s when faced with a hard freeze – make ice wines. (Read about the creation of ice wines in this post ofartandwine.com.)

Casa Rondeña Winery on Chavez Road near Albuquerque, NM. Photo by David Goldman for unsplash.com

Don Pedro de Peralta founded Santa Fe in 1609, and the growing of wine grapes came in 1629. Albuquerque, Las Cruces, and Santa Fe became the primary wine producing regions in what became the state of New Mexico. La Chiripada Winery is the oldest in New Mexico and located in the Rio Embudo Valley about 50 miles north of Santa Fe in the direction of Taos. The name means
“a stroke of luck,” and given that the vineyards are at 6,100 feet, their location in a good micro-climate is indeed lucky. Though the growing season is short, La Chiripada produces good Rhone reds and Kabinett Rieslings, along with their famous Primavera (spring) wine which goes well with those equally famous New Mexican chiles.

La Chiripada (lachiripada.com)

La Chiripada does not stop with just producing good wines. It has also taken advantage of the beautiful natural environment of that river valley by joining with Far Flung Adventures to provide a Wine and Waves package that can include river trips (paddleboat, oars, or kayak), biking, or hiking, along with wine tasting and food pairings.

The Vineyards of Vivác Winery vivacwinery.com

At 6,000 feet, Vivác also has one of the world’s highest vineyards. The name means “high altitude refuge.” This photo shows what makes this New Mexican vineyard such a special site. That magnificent outcropping of rock at the end of the field of vines puts one squarely in Georgia O’Keeffe territory. Started by two brothers, Jesse and Chris Padberg and their wives, the idea of becoming vintners arose from Jesse’s visit to Chile and his wanting to do something with a degree in Spanish Literature. A call to his brother, a maker of fruit wines, prompted more enthusiasm. They wound up creating three Estate Vineyards, which allow them to craft their own wines with everything done by hand. Yes, by hand, and through their studies at UC Davis and with the International Wine Guild, they have built a team that combines “science and art” to create their wines. On top of that HGTV included Vivác Winery among its 22 most beautiful wineries.

Gruet (pronounced Grew-ay) was founded by a Frenchman, Gilbert Gruet in 1984 and specializes in making sparkling wines using the traditional méthode champénoise developed in France. The winery is located in Albuquerque but has a tasting room in Santa Fe at the Hotel St. Frances, 210 Don Gaspar Ave. The wines range in prices from $15 to the $125.00 Magnum trio shown here. Contact the winery when in Santa Fe for tasting appointments. (505) 989-9463


One of the best ways to sample some of New Mexico’s wine offerings is to visit a wine bar or attend the annual Wine and Chile Fiesta (September 21-25, 2022). Several of the best places to get good wines by the glass are 315 Restaurant and Wine Bistro, Hervé’s Wine Bar, and Terracotta Wine Bistro. Often listed at the top of the 10 Best list for tasting wines, 315 Restaurant and Wine Bistro serves French-based cuisine, including French Fried Chicken and Steak and Frites, along with a great list of interesting, high quality wines. Hervé’s Wine Bar has 5 flights of wine, each are four, 2oz pours, and range from flights of reds, to Heritage wines, to Sparkling wines, along with a range of glorious food. Finally the Terracotta Wine Bistro has over 200 bottles of wine with 25 of them available for by-the-glass purchase. This provides good opportunities for tasting a variety of wines.

The Wine and Chile Fiesta is an annual event in Santa Fe and though the combination of chile and wine might make one wonder, in fact, there are a number of sensational food combinations to experience. Though it was interrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic, it is back in full force. Check the website to see Who’s Pouring and Who’s Cooking santafewineandchile.org and this little video from 2019 youtube.com

Obviously there is more than enough to see and to do in Santa Fe. The art is great, and the food and wine are fabulous. Santa Fe says Bienvenido!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Distrupted Realism, a review and Winemaking Innovations

What happens when an artist wants to write about art? He/she starts a blog! (I can relate.) John Seed did not want his artistic insight dummied down to suit local coverage of house and garden art shows, so he returned the $50 he’d received for his review and started blogging. He wound up doing a successful art blog for Huffington Post. In his adventures with art, he came across a phenomenon that corresponded to the times we are in, where focus is often distracted by the over-stimulation in our lives. He began to interview artists and from that came Disrupted Realism. We will take a look at the idea and the art, as well as talk about winemaking innovations, as art and wine are always reaching new frontiers.

Featured

A Man of La Mancha, and Wines of Castilla.

Gentleman with a Hand on his Chest by El Greco, 1580. Museo del Prado. Hover over image to magnify.

The person depicted here is actually unknown. The possible candidates range from the Marquis de Montemayor, significant figure in Toledo, to Miguel de Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote to a portrait of the artist, El Greco, himself. While trying to figure out whose portrait this really is can be a fun investigation, it is more important to look at what El Greco does in this mysterious portrait that has caused the artist to be called a precursor to modern art.

Though El Greco’s work was done in the 16th century, a century known for the Mannerist style, which involved sometimes odd color combinations and elongated figures, in modern times his work has been the inspiration for Expressionism. When we look at some of his work, we see a painter who seemed to see the world in phantoms, with almost ghoulish color combinations and tortured physiques.

Laocoön by El Greco, 1614. Museo del Prado

Laocoön is a great example of the statement made above. The flesh tones of the figures are in shades of gray with a bare highlight of pinkish white. The way that the figures seem pulled down the sides of the paintings looks more like something from the 20th century. In Thomas Hart Benton’s The Boy (below) one sees the same wavy lines and long outstretched arms, which cause the figures to seem in movement. In El Greco’s painting the elongated shapes of their naked bodies seem tortured as they struggle with the snake. The way the muscles are represented creates a wavy quality to the figures which helps to create that sense of movement.

The story of Laocoön and his sons and their fight with this great serpent is best known from a Hellenistic sculpture in which the figures show every part of their bodies straining in their fight with the snake. Of course, with El Greco, one also gets treated to one of his many versions of the landscape around the city of Toledo, where he spent the rest of his life after 1577.

The Boy by Thomas Hart Benton, 1948,
Laocoön

So we can see that El Greco had ideas about painting that seemed far ahead of the 1500s. I would say that is true of almost all of the Mannerist paintings of that time (see OfArtandWine.com “La Bella Maniera”). Mannerist painting put aside the dictates of nature to focus on the psychological and emotional aspects of the subject matter. El Greco was a very religious and emotional man. He is quoted as saying, “I paint because the spirits whisper madly inside my head.” His advice to artists was even more pointed, “You must study the Masters but guard the original style that beats within your soul and put to sword those who would try to steal it.” (quotes from elgreco.org)

Let’s return to the Gentleman with his Hand on his Chest. The mystique of this painting, which is so emblematic of Spanish culture that it was honored in a Spanish postage stamp, is a quiet portrait of dignify. The grayish background and the black of the clothing leave us nothing to look at but the face and above all the magnificent hand, both of which are surrounded by the bright white of the ruffled collar and the frilly lace sleeve.

The gold of the sword hilt is echoed somewhat in the color of the subject’s face, which acts as a color coordination between the top and the bottom of the painting. However, the focal point, and the one that is printed on T-shirts and tote bags (I have a tote from the Prado Museum with that hand printed on it) is that fabulous hand.

Detail of the hand from Gentleman with his Hand on his Chest

Any artist will tell you that hands can be very hard to paint. It is not just a matter of propotions, coloring, and shadows. It is a matter of expression, for as we all know many of us “talk with our hands,” as the saying goes. So the hand in this portrait must tell a story that matches the face. The person in the painting is rather sad-eyed and unsmiling. He seems to be in his 30s and obviously from the look of his crisp lace trimmings and the golden sword hilt, he is from the upper echelons of Spanish society. In fact, an alternative name for the painting is Nobleman with his Hand on his Chest. One of the reasons that it is speculated that this is a painting of Cervantes is the absence of any depiction of the left hand and forearm. Cervantes lost his in the Battle of Lepanto in 1571 when the Venetians and the Pope beat back an attack by the Ottoman navy.

Sadness in the eyes and that straight face bring a serious, quiet aspect to the painting, one that is thoughtful. The way the hand lies so gently on his chest at the level of his heart would seem to symbolize a person of deep feeling, perhaps deep faith. Long. thin fingers suggest more the hand of a writer or poet than one of a soldier, whose fingers would be more muscled. The pale color of it (lighter than the subject’s face) brings the hand even more to our attention. The back of the hand is smooth and retains some of the plumpness of youth, while the knuckles wrinkle appropriately and the ends of the fingers tapper to the small well-manicured finger nails.

Though this man carries a sword, his hand seems much more likely to have wielded a pen. For these reasons, there are art historians who believe this is a portrait of Cervantes. However, it could be anyone of noble birth, perhaps that Marquis of Montemayor. The main thing is that this hand surrounded by that delicate lace trim is the essence of quiet elegance. The way the artist has highlighted it as white against black draws our attention to it as the key to the character of the sitter for this painting.

El Greco’s sparing use of color here creates the mystery in this painting. The artist had a tenuous relationship with color, saying, “It is only after years of struggle and deprivation that the young artist should touch color – and then only in the company of his betters.” This is a telling statement from someone who lived and studied in Venice, the home of beautiful color in painting, as seen in Titian, Tintoretto, and Veronese. The artist obviously approached color with a bit of fear and trepidation.

El Greco (1541-1614), the Greek, as he was called in Spain, bore that name because of the difficulty in pronuncing his real name for the non-Greek speaking Spanish. Domenikos Theokopoulus was born in Crete which was then a possession of the Venetian Republic. He learned painting in Venice, the home of Titian, moved on to Rome, and finally to Spain. Though he dreamed of being a court painter in Madrid, that did not work out (perhaps his painting style was too idiosyncratic). He moved on to Toledo where he gained comissions for both religious works and portraits.

He may have worn his artistic pride a bit too much on his sleeve as this quote would indicate. “I suffer for my art and despise the witless moneyed scoundrels who praise it.” Regardless, his influence was keenly felt in modern times, as can be seen by the Picasso take off on the famous El Greco portrait of the Gentleman.

Portrait of a Painter, after El Greco, by Pablo Picasso, 1950. Hover over image to magnify.

While the Picasso portrait has two hands (one for the paint brush and one for the palette), the overall color combinations and position of the figure are very much as he says, “after El Greco.” It is not just Spanish painters like Picasso and Sorolla who took note of El Greco, but a list of other modern painters. To see that influence clearly, go to the link on “El Greco and Modern Painting,” a presentation by the Museo del Prado in Madrid, Spain. museodelprado.es

The main lesson one can take from El Greco’s career and body of art work is to be true to one’s self. Listen to one’s own inner guidance and let intuition guide your creativity. Take inspiration where you find it, and remember what the master said, “Art is everywhere you look for it, hail the twinkling stars, for they are God’s careless splatters.”

Sources for this post are the following:

“El Greco Paintings” theartstory.org

“El Greco and Modern Painting” museodelprado.es

“El Greco Quotes” el-greco.org

Images used in this post are either in Public Domain or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of review, critique, and discussion. The Dreamstime.com photo is a free download.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com and etsy.com/shop/VernelleArt Studio

Castilla and La Mancha Wine Region.

Vineyards of Vinicola de Tomelloso in Castilla-LaMancha winetourism.com

One may think of La Mancha as a dry region filled with windmills and eccentric noblemen who go about tilting at them. Well, perhaps Don Quixote did that, but if you go to La Mancha or the whole of the Castilla-La Mancha area, what you are likely to find are vineyards and affordable wine. About two thirds of the wine produced in this area are reds. However, good vino blanco (white wine) can also be found. The area produces a lot of bulk wine; however, you can find those $100/bottle red wines labeled vino de pago, a new appellation, for wines from single-vineyard areas.

Interestingly, the wines produced in this area, which had been known for being inexpensive jug wines, began to improved when the California touch was added. This occured in the 1990s when vines were brought in from the Golden State, along with different winemaking techniques. The red wines of the area are known for a bit of a “grilled toast” taste and are made from Syrah, Cabernet, Bobal, and Garnacha grapes. The white wines are normally aged in oak which gives them a creamy, nutty taste with a touch of peach or apricot. The Airen grape is the favorite white grape used in the region though Chardonnay grapes are also cultivated.

Ah yes, castles in Spain and vineyards in the Meseta Central.

The topography of the land offers a lot of diversity in terms of growing regions, from dry plains with old bush vines to rocky highlands with high altitude varieties. The weather is very hot and dry in the summer and quite cold in the winter. Irrigation is minimal; however, diseases that plague other areas also find this area to be inhospitable, an advantage for the vintners. Castilla-La Mancha is focused on creating great varietal wines which is quite an improvement in terms of what is available for purchase. However, some of its bulk wine is actually the base for fortified wines like sherry and port.

Pisto Manchego, a Spanish dish from the land of Quixote.

When it comes to foods, this area goes for the basics. The dish above is a type of Spanish ratatouille with onions, green and red peppers, tomatoes, eggplant and zucchini. Other items would include hearty foods pork, lamb, and beef meat dishes, but there is paella as well. The area is also known for manchego cheese, which comes from the milk from a local breed of sheep called Manchega. For a thorough run down on Spanish foods from starters to desserts, including good mixed wine drinks (think excellent sangria) go to spain-recipes.com

Though the land of the Meseta Central seems rather inhospitable, the Spanish have taken what the Moors from North Africa called “parched earth” manchxa and turned it to useful purposes to find a place for themselves in the world of wine.

To take a short virtual trip to the area try this video: Spain, Castilla-La Mancha, Albacete. youtube.co

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Santa Fe, New Mexico: Oh the Art, Ah the Wine.

Well, as promised, a trip to Santa Fe is scheduled for this month. Of Art and Wine will report on the art and the wine in the area and any exciting events that are coming up. I return after the 25th so look for my post after that date

Hasta luego!

Wilderness Pony by Mary Bowers.

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Art History C.S.I.: The Night Watch as a Crime Scene. For the Love of Wine!

In 2013, in the midst of Amsterdam, crowds lined both sides of a street for a very special event. No, there were no visiting foreign dignitaries showing off to the crowd, nor any local ones of import. It was simply a team of husky men slowly rolling a huge crate down the street. The crate contained what is now called a Dutch national treasure, and all the people could see of it were the huge printed versions of what was inside, plastered on each side of the huge crate. (See Andrew Graham Dixon’s Night at the Rijksmuseum -section 2/4 given here youtube.com) So had the Dutch gone a bit around the bend? No, not at all. What was inside of the giant crate was Rembrandt’s The Night Watch, a 17th century painting of a company of civil guards, who supposedly helped protect the city, but which was more a company of good old boys who went on patrol.

Photo of Stefan Kasper who as the 10 millionth visitor to see The Night Watch got to spend the night. bbc.com Hover over image to magnify.

While the picture above is rather amusing, it is also a good way to gain some perspective on how revered that painting is in Holland. One also sees how different Rembrandt’s painting is in terms of others in that genre. The genre was portraiture but specifically paintings made of the members of these different companies of civilian guards or of trade guilds, which were commissioned for the grand celebrations held at the end of each 3-year period, when new officers were elected. The old guard, literally was celebrated and the new installed, and quite a merry time was had by all. Certainly the painting on the far wall shows all the members of one company, each standing so that his face can be clearly seen, since each member paid for his own portrait. Some merriment was going on, but most of the men stood up straight and showed off their finery in a fairly dignified manner. Then look at the Rembrandt. No wait, here let me get you good examples so you can really see the difference.

The Meagre Company by Frans Hals and Pietre Codde, 1633-1637. Hover over image to magnify.

Okay, now here is a piece done “the right way,” according to the custom of the day. The key players stand out and are well posed. Each person’s face is nicely lighted, so everyone gets his money’s worth. Well not everyone, poor Frans Hals, who was always a bit short on dime and on time, took the commission in 1633, and had 34, 35, and 36 to finish it. However, with most of it done, he failed to deliver as the due date neared. So poor Hals (and he was always rather poor as he had a large family) had to repay all the money, some of which the guard gave to Codde to finish the last bits. At any rate, this example is given just so you have a clear vision of what one of these portraits was supposed to look like. For more see the Web Gallery of Art article www.wga.hu

The Night Watch by Rembrandt, 1642. Hover over image to magnify. bbc.com

Now, let’s look at The Night Watch. This painting does not concentrate on static poses but rather seems to picture the guard going on patrol. There are men loading guns, a drummer to tap out the beat for their march, another with a giant flag, and the rest talk, point, and are otherwise busy. No one has lined up to show off his finery and his face, though as I have pointed out, they each pay for their portraits. However, the key figures, the leader of the company and his second stand out. In the center and well-lit are Frans Banninck Cocq, the captain of Amsterdam’s civil militia, and with him, dressed all in golden yellow (even the hat and boots match), is his lieutenant Willem Van Ruytenburch. As opposed to the banquet scene in Hals, these guys are going on patrol. However, in looking at the picture futher, should the residents of Amsterdam really feel safe?

The Night Watch detail. Hover over image to magnify.

Okay, so let’s just drill down on this very interesting section of the painting. Let’s take Banninck Cocq. He was a politician as well as the captain of the militia. Later he became mayor of the city, so he was a real mover and shaker in Amsterdam. Here in his black suit with a red sash, he seems to be giving instruction or at least commenting to his lieutenant, Van Ruytenburch, who is a more problematic character here. While yellow was seen as the color of victory, the fancy quality of this golden outfit seems rather out of place for guard duty. Of course, one can make much of the fact that the only other character in yellow is the girl, and both she and Van Ruytenburch are highlighted in bright light. That bright light cast a shadow of Banninck Cocq’s hand, which shows in an interesting place in terms of his lieutenant’s anatomy. The shape of the lance carried by Van Ruytenburch could also be taken as interestingly symbolic. Adding all of this up might lead one to think that Rembrandt was commenting on something he knew or had observed about this company and the relationship of its two leaders.

If you ever get the chance to go to Amsterdam, do go to Rembrandt’s house. When you do, you will be shown an area above the room where those who came to sit for portraits had to wait until the master was ready to paint them. In that area the artist could have a view of who was waiting and could hear what they were saying. In terms of The Night Watch, the question arises about what Rembrandt may have seen or heard that caused him to create this rather mysterious, suggestive painting that was so out of the ordinary for that genre of painting.

The girl in this company of men may simply have been someone on the street who got caught up in this mass of movement. However, one notices that she is carrying a chicken and there is some indication that there may be the butt of a pistol jutting out from under the chicken. (I’ve not been able to get a good enough photo detail of that.) At any rate, that chicken may be symbolic of a certain profession she might be engaged in. Now Rembrandt gave her the face of his wife, Saskia, which would seem a strange association given the role this girl might play in this drama. Only Rembrandt knows why he chose his wife’s face for this character. However, some say that the girl is simply a mascot for the company or just a symbolic representation of the company as the chicken claws relate to the Kloveniers Guild to which this company belonged. At the very least, the lighting on her and Van Ruytenburch and their color coordination in dress seem to be a meaningful connection in regard to the feminine.

The other odd thing seen in that detail is that the man behind Banninck Cocq fires a musket (notice the red/orange sparks of fire) right past the ostrich plumes in Van Ruytenburch’s hat. Somehow, neither Van Ruytenburch nor the captain he is talking to seem to notice this loud noise right behind their heads. One then wonders what or who was this guy shooting at? Certainly, with this big group of militiamen all milling about, if one fires a gun off, it is bound to hit something or someone. So was this intentional and planned, which is why the two officers do not pay any attention to it?

Well, film director Peter Greenaway has taken a long hard look at Rembrandt’s masterpiece and come up with some interesting conclusions about Rembrandt having overheard a plot to murder one of this company’s members while he was in his hidden perch above his clients’ waiting room. Greenaway explains many of the oddities in this painting as the painter’s desire to expose this evil doing and that it was the cause of Rembrandt’s precipitous fall from favor and into poverty.

There is another film by Greenaway, a documentary, called Rembrandt, J’accuse, which serves as a companion piece to the film and explores the combined benefits that the members of this company would gain by killing one of their companions. Greenaway’s documentary posits that Rembrandt outted a murder conspiracy (oh, it was just an accident when out on patrol) and that the main culprits were Banninck Cocq and Van Ruytenburch, who wanted to silence one of the company who knew too much. Given the homo-erotic symbolism of the shadow hand and the head of the lance, not to mention Van Ruytenburch’s fancy outfit, ostrich plumes and all, one can imagine what the cover up concerned. (See article in the Toronto Star thestar.com.

The tragedy of course is also that Rembrandt’s outting by innuendo a man who was a leading politician (Banninck Cocq became the mayor of Amsterdam in 1650) made himself a powerful enemy. 1642 became a turning point in Rembrandt’s career. Not only was there dissatisfaction with the portrait, as so many of the men’s faces were hard to see, and that is not what they paid for, but also 1642 was the year that Rembrandt’s beloved Saskia died. Rembrandt’s fortunes steadily declined, causing him to sell off all of the antiques and curiosities that he had collected and finally his house as well. His high spirits and flamboyance had not suited very protestant Amsterdam, so his fall brought righteous satisfaction to some. Though he was always a great painter, his latter years were indeed difficult.

Rembrandt Self Portrait, 1659. Hover over image to magnify.

The picture above says it all. We see the greatness of the painter and the obvious traces of his distress etched into his face. As for The Night Watch itself, it went through a number of changes, one of which involved trimming part of it off on either side. However, over the years, regardless of what story the painting may have been attempting to tell, the great mastery of Rembrandt’s skill in painting has won it a place in the hearts of the Dutch people, hence there willingness to line the streets to see the crate carrying the painting be wheeled slowly and carefully from one location to another. The Andrew Graham Dixon video mentioned above shows how the gigantic painting was hoisted up, through a special slot cut in the floor, to its pride of place position in the museum.

The articles used for this post are in the links above. I have also used my own art history notes taken during a 2011 course on Dutch painting for which we took a “field trip” from Avignon, France to Amsterdam to see the works we had been studying. The Night Watch was then in a special location in another building, as the renovation of the museum was not finished. However, it hung opposite of the Frans Hals painting, The Meagre Company, in order to make the startling contrast in styles and show Rembrandt’s creative genious.

All art works used in this post are in public domain. Photo credits are given in the links to the websites of origin.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com and etsy.com/shop/VernelleArt Studio

For the Love of Wine: Wine in 17th Century Holland.

Dutch Ships in a Calm Sea. c.1670 Hover over image to magnify.

The 17th century was the height of the Dutch trading empire that brought, as author and historian Simon Schama says, The Embarrasment of Riches, which is also a title of his wonderful book on that period in Dutch history. Schama posits that the Dutch nation, formed from seven different small entities of which Holland was just one, was the product of two adversaries: the 80-year war with Spain and the sea. The Dutch famously reclaimed land from the sea in order to produce what they needed to survive – not to mention to grow tulips. The long war with Spain was another matter. During that war, the town of Antwerp was used as a supply depot and distribution center for the shipping of merchandise that Spain sold to the rest of Europe. The 16th century saw Spain’s fortunes increase because of its activities in the Americas, hence its key role in trade. The only role the Dutch could have was to be middlemen in that trade. However, in 1591 Spain decided to cut the Dutch out of that role. That led to the formation of the Dutch East Indies Company in 1602, and in 1609 the Dutch governent blocked Spain from any access to Antwerp, which had remained a supply center for Spanish trade.

Pieter Claesz Banquest with Lobster, 1659. Hover over image to magnify.

Once the Dutch began trading in the far east and moved trade centers to Amsterdam and Rotterdam, the embarrassment of riches went into overdrive. With a fleet of 10,000 merchant ships by 1648, the good times rolled, but with a Dutch protestant touch. The Claesz painting here (for more on Claesz see this ofartandwine.com post) shows a rich meal of fresh lobster, some oysters, fruit, bread, and wine. It is a sumptuous meal with signs of partially eaten items, a peeled lemon, an open oyser, and broken bread. Notice how the plate is so close to the edge of the table. That food that was on its way to being devoured and the items on the edge of the table were symbolic of the cycles of life. One could describe it as a process of entropy or going from the whole to the fragmented, broken, or destroyed. It was used as a reminder to people that even though they lived in great wealth and abundance, it was all ephemeral – here today and gone tomorrow. Even so, the Dutch did indeed enjoy their wine and the lovely glasses they drank it from.

When it came to wine, the Dutch traders found that they could take wines from Spain, France, Italy and southern Germany and make good money trading it to England, Sweden, the Baltic, and even northern Germany. Rotterdam, which sits on the northern end of the Rhine, became the main depot for the distribution of wine. French wines and brandy were particularly valued and good wines of any origin were looked upon as luxury items. (Painting of a wine roemer by Claesz, 1642)

While the Dutch were also beer drinkers, and yes, they traded in spirits as well, wine was a very special item, and the 17th century Dutch dominated the wine and spirits trade. As I mentioned, wine was looked upon as a luxury. Bad or low quality wine was known as slootwater or ditch water. Most of what was imported was “new wine” or wine that was not to be aged. That had to do with potential storage difficulties. When in the 30 Years War, access to sweet Rhine wines was limited, the Dutch traders took Sauterne made from white grapes and stalled the fermentation process to keep the sugars in and make it a sweet wine. It is estimated that in a one-year period, 1667-1668, there were 22.6 gallons of wine consumed per person (literally for everyone, man, woman, and child). Of course it was the adults that did the drinking, and one sees the effects of that wine consumption in the work of artist Jan Steen.

Besides being a wine merchant, the wine trade was the source of three other profitable professions. One was being a wijn roeiers, or basically someone who measured quantities and quality of wine for tax purposes. It is their figures that create the picture of wine consumption stated in the previous paragraph. Another profession was that of the painters, like Claesz, who made a good living painting banketje or banquet paintings so that the wealthy citizens could show off their wealth in paintings of their elegant glassware and sumptuous table offerings. It was a way to have their wine and drink it, too. Finally, the nerdowells as always found a way to take advantage, which means that smuggling was a profitable profession. This also means that the actual consumption of wine (and spirits) was actually higher than that counted by those wijn roeiers with their gauges.

While the Netherlands currently has just a fledgling wine industry, it again has to deal with the difficulty of the climate and its location, which both affect the wines that can be produced. Of Art and Wine (April 10, 2020) took a look at the wine industry in “Carel Fabritius’ Beloved Goldfinch and Netherlands Wine.”(The bottle is an antique onion-shaped Dutch wine bottle.)

So yes, for the love of wine, the Dutch have had a long history of making things work, whether it is getting around trade restrictions imposed by war, dealing with making wines sweet when the sweet ones they wanted were not available, or striking out on their own winemaking adventures. One can only say Bravo!

Articles consulted for this post are the following:

“Dutch Burghers and Their Wine: Nary a Sour Grape” by Henriette Rahusen for the National Gallery of Art www.nga.gov This website also offers a very nice film on the Dutch and wine in the 17th century.

“The Dutch Wine Trade in the 17th Century” by Aaron Nix-Gomez on History of Wine webpage, hogsheadwine.wordpress.com

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: El Greco: A Man of La Mancha, and the Castilla, La Mancha Wine Region.

Detail of El Greco’s Nobleman with His Hand on His Chest, 1580.

One of the most famous hands in painting, this one by El Greco, the Greek immigrant to Spain who became one of its most famous painters. He is known for his many portraits of Toledo, a key city in the Castilla, La Mancha wine region.

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The Landscape of Imagination and Terroir in Winemaking.

Grizzly Gulch Valley, Okansaung, Vermont by Joseph E. Yoakum

This painting is the cover photo for a very civilized item, a book on art, which is normally a calm and reassuring thing. We have them on the coffee tables in our livingrooms after all. However, when one looks at this terrain and then reads the title of the book, What I saw, one can become a bit unnerved. Where on earth does one find anything like this? I know it says Vermont, but really? The artist, Joseph E. Yoakum, says he saw this, but where? My sense is that the artist perhaps felt the energy of the place and represented that symbolically by the energy in his art, which relies heavily on imagination.

Vermont Ski Resort area including Grizzly Gulch. Hover over image to magnify.

Here is a photo of that area mentiond in the name of the painting. We see mountains and forests in grays and the white and blue of the sky. In looking at Yoakum’s work, we get the thrust of mountains, done in his ballpoint pen work in vertical lines, black on gray. The idea of rock having been pushed up from the earth comes to mind. The ridges and ravines in the area give it a hard unwelcoming look. The definite feeling of a natural descent through this rocky landscape is apparent as one sees trails everywhere. The hills in Yoakum’s work exaggerate this barren landscape, which when covered with snow would be great for skiing (hence the only view I found of the area was a ski resort map), but would otherwise be rather desolate. The artist seems to have sensed this, for he shows the hills like giant claws that seem to be grasping and tearing apart the valley that lies between them. The river flows down at a death defying angle, channeled by the striations in the blue land on either side of it. The whole effect is dizzying. Then there is the name, Grizzly Gulch Valley, which evokes the idea of sharp grizzly claws ripping and tearing. With all of this combined, one can actually see what Yoakum saw on a metaphorical level.

Mt. Vesuvios of Apennes Alps near Naples, Italy, c. 1970. Joseph E. Yoakum, pen and colored pencil on paper. (The spelling is the artist’s)

Though Yoakum traveled quite a bit in his life, his life in 1970 was confined to his storefront apartment on the south side of Chicago. I doubt that even in his earlier life he saw the scene above. One thinks of the Bay of Naples, with the oddly shaped mountain, which blew its own peak off in 79 A.D., and the huge city that lies at the base of that dangerous mountain. Yoakum, in his mind’s eye, has given us an energy representation of the region. The white strip that flows down and divides into two streams is reminiscent of a lava flow, though not in red. The red is in the shape of a mountain. Notice that the other mountains on the left are green with some in pale yellow. Also on the left is what looks like a purple bridge. It is not clear what the tree-like markings are that one sees through the trellis on that bridge, but one does get the overall feeling of countryside. On the right side are things that look like rock formations.

One can only guess at what Yoakum saw as he envisioned this area, but the striations on those shapes might indicate violent earth movement. Certainly the way this landscape is shaped creates a funnel for a downhill output of lava from the mountains. While this piece has color added, it again can be seen as symbolic: the red for the volcano, the mountains in greens and yellows on the left, and on the other side, the destructive aftermath of any volcanic eruption, represented by oddly shaped, crusty rock formations. However, as always, one must ask, if this is what Yoakum saw, why did it come to him this way?

To say that Joseph Yoakum (1891-1972) was an extraordinary man is an understatement. Born in Walnut Grove, Missouri, one cannot say that he really grew up there. In 1901 at the age of 10, he literally ran away with the circus, the Adams Forepaugh Circus. He wound up doing a stint with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show (perhaps there is where he developed his leanings toward Navajo culture). From there he joined the Sells Floto Circus and traveled to China in 1902 at the age of 11.

Needless to say, he did in fact see many things. He returned from his adventures in 1908. In 1918 he joined the U.S. Army and was sent to Quebec and then to France, where he worked on repairing railroads. Once the war was over, he returned to the U.S. and until the 1960s lived what would seem like an ordinary life, married twice, and moved around the country a lot. It is not until 1962 when he was “motivated by a dream that told him to create art” that he began to do so. This was the time after the death of his second wife, when he moved into that storefront on the south side of Chicago. In 1967, a professor of anthropology from Chicaco State College, John Hobgood, stumbled upon Yoakum’s storefront in the windows of which were Yoakum’s drawings. This discovery brought about an art show at the gallery, The Whole, and an article on Yoakum in the Chicago Daily News, “My Drawings Are a Spiritual Unfoldment.”

The 1960s was a time in which there was more emphasis on non-Western art, such as African, Middle Eastern and Native American art. The focus was on the cultural and spiritual imperatives of the artists rather than looking at so-called “primitive objects.” It was also a time of black awareness and the Black Is Beautiful movement. Yoakum, who was African American, probably inherited some Cherokee blood from his father’s side of the family, but veered more to the Native American side. Though supposedly having Cherokee blood, he renamed himself, Nava-Joe and claimed that he was born in Window Rock, Arizona. Though he had obviously lived his life as a Black man, he created this imaginary Native American existence. Some have said that he just thought that Nava-Joe sold art better than “old Black man.” However, Yoakum disassociated himself from African-American culture in favor of Native-American culture or his perception of that culture. In so doing, he stepped outside of the growing interest in African-American art and stepped away from the various artists involved in producing that art. For a fascinating look at this identity issue and Yoakum, see the excellent essay, “Back Where I Were Born: Joseph E. Yoakum and the Imaginary Indian,” by Kathleen Ash-Milby in the book What I Saw.

Paradise Range near Damascus, Syria.
Wilks Land in East Sector Antarctica
The two pieces above show how varied Yoakum’s imaginary visits to far off places were.

Yoakum’s “exciting to ponder, difficult to describe art” ( quote of Jim Nutt, an artist and client of Yoakum) became very popular among the artists involved in the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC), many of whom bought his drawings. Artist and SAIC professor, Whitney Halstead, became particularly close to Yoakum and strives to place Yoakum into an art historical context (see reference below). However, Yoakum is hard to peg. His imaginary landscapes are more sophisticated than “naive” art, and they did not fit into the category of African-American art traditions of social issues and history that the work of Jacob Lawrence spearheaded. Rather like Norman Lewis, who became an Abstract Expressionist, something completely outside the box that African-American art was place in, Yoakum dived deep into the imagination to do these landscapes of the places he saw in his mind.

Tornado In Action in Iola, Kansas in 1920 by Joseph E. Yoakum

Here is Yoakum dealing with something he must surely have known in physical reality growing up as a child in Missouri: tornadoes. We see how he has lined the earth to represent perhaps the furrows of planted crops. We see that the tornado had ripped a wide space in the middle of the picture, disrupting the continuous horizontal furrows of the field. Here and there are strange objects, perhaps ones that had been sucked into the vortex of the tornado and spun out of the top to land as debris scattered over the area.

Whatever one thinks of Yoakum’s life and his artistic works, his vision of landscape takes the viewer on a far journey into the imagination. His art was originally considered Outsider Art, which is art produced by those who do not come through the normal avenues into the art world. However, he is someone who strove to do what he could with the materials he had, often working on buff colored letter paper called “Fifth Avenue,” which he purchased from his local F.W. Woolworth store. He used simple pen and ink, and sometimes Weber Costello pastels, which he preferred to watercolor as the latter was harder to control. From those simple inexpensive materials and his grand imagination, which is what probably led him to run off with the circus back in 1901, he left us a treasure trove of mind-scapes to enjoy and to ponder.

One final note: the beauty of his work has been noticed in Europe where the company Lemaire has a line of clothing featuring Yoakum’s art work. It is called “Ssense,” and I leave you with pictures of some very expensive pieces printed on silk. The company refers to Yoakum as Native American, so it seems that he has finally gotten the ethnic identity he imagined himself to be. flaunt.com

Images of Yoakum’s work are used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of review and critique.

Resources used in preparation for this article are as follows:

Joseph E. Yoakum What I Saw by Yale University Press with the help of The Art Institute of Chicago, The Museum of Modern Art, New York, and the Menil Collection, Houston. The book is a collection of essays, including to one mentioned above by Kathleen Ash-Milby and the art history one by Whitney Halstead.

For more on Yoakum’s work try these links:

www.outsiderartfair.com; newyorker.com; and artforum.com.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com and original art goods at etsy.com.

Terroir, a word with one meaning but many different attributes.

Limburg vineyards in the Netherlands for production of medium-bodied reds with fruity tones.

As in Joseph Yoakum’s landscape paintings, land is variable, and that isn’t just a matter of terrain, but of terroir. Terroir (pronounced tare – WAHr) loosely refers to “a sense of place.” That seems rather vague, but if we break it down a bit, a sense of place involves more than location. It would involve an overall feeling of environment. One would consider the climate, the people who live there, the type of vegetation and animal life of that area, and certainly any special products. When it comes to wine, the idea of special types of wine that are grown on certain types of soil which affect their flavor adds dimension to the term terroir. Since this is a French word, best that we go to French wines to talk about it and compare its effects.

Vineyard for Beaujolais wine. Photo credit to Pierre-Axel Cotteret on unsplash.com

Vinevest.com describes terroir this way: “‘Terroir’ is a French word that signifies the natural conditions of a vineyard like soil composition, elevation, sun exposure, climate, and other unique characteristics.”  Some of the other characteristics often have to do with the winemaking culture of the area. In countries with a long tradition of winemaking, regional traditions involve the blending of grapes in certain precise quantities, as well as which grapes are aged in oak and which remain in stainless steel tanks.

For instance, a Côte de Provence rosé is made from four different grapes and in precise percentages: 45% Cinsault, 35% Grenache, and 15% Syrah, and sometimes 5% Mourvèdre. Notice that this is a regional blend of grapes that comes from years of developing this particular wine. In addition, while most of the grapes are aged in stainless steel tanks,  8% of the Syrah grapes are fermented in oak barrels to enrich the natural flavor but not overwhelm it with the buttery taste that can come from oak. The Mourvedre

grapes, which are only 5% of this blend, are added in to soften the taste. The whole fermentation process takes a short time, and the wine is meant to be drunk young. (See Of Art and Wine, The Painter of “Indecisive Colors and Côte de Provence Wine.)

Now, let’s take the case of two wines from the Loire Valley, Sancerre and Muscadet. One of the main factors in the taste of these two wines, both of which are great with seafood, is that they grow in different types of soil. The Loire Valley generally has a limestone-based underpinning. But Muscadet, which comes from the Melon de Bourgogne grape grows in the Loire south of Nantes where the soil is more granite than limestone.

As opposed to Sancerre, which has a flinty, citrus-tinged taste, that sometimes has a smoked flavor, Muscadet has a saline taste as though touched by salty sea air. In the case of Muscadet, its grape which came originally from Bourgogne (Burgundy), was a grape which in the middle ages the Burgundians banned from their soil. The grape wound up in the Loire Atlantic, where it found a good home as its salt was great with briney seafood. (See OfArtandWine.com post “Botticelli on the Half Shell with Sancerre or Muscadet).

Photo credit to vinovest.com

The article “Terroir: What Is It, and How Does It Affect Your Wine?” (click link above) names four basic physical characteristics of terroir: climate, soil, terrain or topography, and organisms in the soil. (Please note that I am not alone in my addition of local winemaking culture, as Winefolly.com also includes tradition as one of the elements in the definition of terroir.) These elements of terroir play a role in the pricing of wine and whether or not it is granted a defined appellation of origin (AOC Appellation d’Origine Controlée). This AOC qualification indicates quality and with that a higher price per bottle.

Unfortunately, when it comes to wines grown in the New World and other places where the original cultures were not winemaking cultures, there is no baseline by which to measure the qualities of terroir needed to go into defining specific ones. However, we do see some distinctions, for instance, in the winemaking regions of the Pacific Coast. California produces a variety of wines in regions throughout the state, while Oregon is known as a mono-grape culture since it focuses on the production of fine Pinot Noir. Washington has concentrated on red wines, Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir, Syrah, and Merlot. Hopefully, as those winemaking regions develop more history with cultural winemaking knowledge particular to each region, along with the climate and soil requirements, terroir will begin to have meaning there, too.

So the shape of landscape takes on a variety of meanings, whether in the imaginative art of someone like Joseph Yoakum or in the complex elements contained in the definition of terroir. Both of these complex items give us the benefit of their “exciting to ponder, difficult to describe” essence and allow us to savor the richness that comes from complexity.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022.

Coming Soon: Art History C.S.I.: The Night Watch as a Crime Scene. For the Love of Wine!

The Night Watch by Rembrandt, 1642. commons.wikimedia.org

This painting has become an emblematic Dutch national treasure, which far from a static portrait of one of the companies or guilds in 17th century Holland, is a portrait with a number of mysteries, including a gun that is being fired. Come explore the mysteries of The Night Watch and look at the world of the Dutch Wine Trade.

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The World’s Most Beautiful Bridal Chamber, plus Wines for Weddings.

Well, it’s that time of year when wedding bells ring, and happy couples start a new life together. Back in the early Renaissance the same type of thing happened, but if it concerned a prince, duke, or marquis, as in this case, Marchese Ludovico Gonzaga II, things could definitely take a magnificent turn toward the spectacular. In fact, the famous Camera degli Sposi (often called the Bridal Chamber because it was set in what was Gonzaga’s bedroom at the time) was more a commemoration of the whole family that had sprung from the marriage of Gonzaga and Barbara de Brandenburg.

Camera degli Sposi by Andrea Mantegna, 1465-1474. Hover over image to magnify.

As can be seen above, this “bedroom,” which later became an area where the marchese would hold private audiences, is a painted wonder for several notable reasons.

PORTRAITURE

Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506) was noted for his ability to capture the human image. His painting is so structured that it sometimes seems architectural and rather “dry,” and for his day, he seems to have been something of a rather brutal realist, with the facial features often being criticized as lacking “grace.” Of course, as Leonardo da Vinci would point out, grace and reality don’t often happen together. One example of such is the portrait of Carlo de Medici.

Cardinal Carlo de Medici by Andrea Mantegna, 1466. Hover over image to magnify.

Though “His Grace” the cardinal certainly looks like the important man he was, Mantegna has captured also a man whose face has moulded itselt into the hard cynicism that came from the dangerous politics of his time. The face shows the underlying structural detail of the man’s face, his strong square jaw, the prominent bowed nose with the two hard lines descending from the end of the nose to the sides of the downturned mouth, and the hard, icy, blue eyes. The high cheek bones form the base of the hollow of the eyes, that hollow filled in by the puffy skin (bags, as we say) just under the eye. What one has is a rather accurate portrait of the man painted from the inside out, which allows the personality developed from his personal history to be worn on his face. He doesn’t look like someone you would want to have to ask for a favor.

Ludovico Gonzaga
Barbara de Brandenburg

Once again these portraits of the marchese and his wife have been seen as lacking in grace. However, they were quite accurate in terms of what Mantegna saw, so much so that the marchese, Ludovico II, had members of his family stand close by their portraits so that guests could see the verisimilitude in the portraiture.

PERSPECTIVE

The 15th century was full of dynamism in terms of the discovery and rediscovery of various artistic principles. The search for perpsective animated a number of artists, in particular Paolo Uccello and Andrea Mantegna. Mantegna seats the Gonzagas over a real hearth so that when one looks at the figures, one must look up. Taking that perspective into account, the artist painted the figures as though one were actually looking up at them from below, which means that one sees a bit under some of the objects and the hems of the garments.

One aspect of perspective that Mantegna was particularly adept with was foreshortening. For those who may have forgotten their first drawing class, foreshortening is the effect of drawing an object that seems to be lying flat or pointed in your direction. It changes the apperance of the length of the object. Mantegna’s Lamentation of Christ c. 1470 puts a fine point on the wonders of how a well-foreshortened figure looks.

The dead Christ and three mourners.*tempera on canvas.*68 × 81 cm .*1470-1474

Mantegna has fun with the foreshortening in the oculus at the top of the painted trompe l’oeil dome where he has figures looking down on those who are looking up. Notice in the picture below that there are some precariously placed items which might just fall on the spectators who dare stand underneath the dome. One figure seems to be unloosening a planter, and those heavily foreshortened cherubs have various parts of their naked baby bodies positioned to allow both biological elements #1 and #2 to fall upon the spectators. Nothing like an artist with a cheeky sense of humor (see oculus below).

The oculus in the Camera degli Sposi with foreshortened cherubs. Hover over the image to magnify.

TROMPE L’OEIL

The real magic of Andrea Mantegna’s chamber is that all of the vaulting of the ceilings, the oculus opening that allows the sky to reign over the whole room, and the delicate molding that surrounds various cameos of Roman emperors, are all tricks of the eye, yes, trompe l’oeil. Mantegna had studied as a young apprentice with Francesco Squarcione, where he learned the tricks of the trade used to do decorative painting, including what we now call trompe l’oeil. He pulled out all the stops when it came to the Camera degli Sposi to make what was a relatively small room in the ducal palace look indeed palatial. Take a moment to look at all of the arches and the tondos with figures in them. Mantegna’s love for the sculptural and his clever use of perspective take over as he turns this room into a fantasy of sorts.

A painted ceiling made to look as if it held architectural wonders, but which is really trompe l’oeil. Hover over image to magnify.

Mantegna did not leave out other participants in the household. Here we see a fine steed and several dogs, probably used for hunting, being held by their grooms. Behind them is a fanciful landscape. The artist shows the versatility which made him a favorite for quite a long time. Ultimately his work was seen as being a bit too decorative and somewhat passé. The artist however, had a long career in Mantua, arriving there in 1460 and dying there in 1506.

Before leaving the master’s art, let’s do look at the beauty of some of his purely decorative work, as in this bountiful garland. Do use the magnifier.

The Altarpiece of St. Zeno, detail by Andrea Mantegna. Click the image to magnify.

Sources for this article are as follows:

“Art in Tuscany: Andrea Mantegna” travelintuscany.com

“Frescoes in the Camera degli Sposi, Ducal Palace in Mantua (1471-1474)” Web Gallery of Art www.wga.hu

Mantegna by Alberta de Nicolo Salmazo for Citadelles et Mazenod, 2004.

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the About Page or the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle. Go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com and for my original art goods see etsy.com/shop/VernelleArtStudio.

Who’s getting married in the morning…

Champagne Fireworks. Photo by Miriam Zilles on Unsplash.

Wines for weddings, now that is a hot topic right about now with well-planned spring and summer outdoor nuptials coming up. So where does one start? Well one of the best things to do is to set up some general guidelines. Decide if you are going to have a professional barman/maid host for you. That person or company can help you with a lot of the decision making about how much and what type of beverages to have. In particular, it is important to know your guests, which means what kinds of taste do they have, how many may be beer drinkers, and how many may want a soft drink (children, grandma, great aunt Betty, for example). To see how a bar with a barman/barmaid works take a look at this video, Wedding Bar – Beer and Wine youtube.com

The Champagne Toast

Set ’em up, barkeep. The champagne toast is all important. Photo credit to Tristan Gassert on in Unsplash.

Normally, it is suggested to separate the champagne quantities from the white, rosé, and red wine choices. As the champagne is used for the special toast, you can count how much you will need by the glass size. Generally a champagne flute will hold 4 ounces of champagne. With approximately 25 ounces in a bottle, you could get about 6 glasses from a bottle. Divide that into 6 into 150 (the normal number of wedding guests) and you’d need to have 15 bottles.

Now, the choice of champagne can include other sparkling wines like cremant, cava, and prosecco, many made with the celebrated French méthode champenoise, though they don’t bear the name champagne due to treaty restrictions. However, since the U.S. is not a part of that treaty, you can use a fine American one which has the word champagne on the label. My suggestion is Gruet. It comes from Santa Fe, New Mexico, runs around $15-$20/bottle, and is divine. Yes, it also comes in pink!

Red, White, and Rosé

White wine to enjoy as something to sip or to go with a light meal. Photo credit to Matthieu Joannon on Unsplash.

Generally it is advised to think of the ratio of white and rosé wines to red wine as a ratio of 2/3 to 1/3. Yes, it is summer, but you will have red wine drinkers and a nice Pinot Noir would work well for them. The wine that seems to be the safest in terms of appealing to a wide variety of tastes is a white wine, Sauvignon Blanc, with really good ones from California and New Zealand; however, Pinot Grigio is also a good possibility. I would even suggest an Off-dry Riesling. The Off-dry version of this wine has just a touch of sugar but is dry rather than sweet. It is acidic so it pairs well with anything savory. That means if your crowd likes light to moderately spicy treats to eat, this could be a great wine to serve with that type of food. You can get a choice of fine ones from Washington State’s Chateau Ste Michelle for under $10.00.

Again, in terms of how many bottles, it is estimated that people will each drink 2.5 to 3 glasses. Now, that is an average, but it means that you can count on about 1/2 bottle per person. For 150 people that is about 75 bottles. Again, remember to know your guests. If you have heavy beer drinkers, you may cut back on the wine. If you are serving very light fare to eat then go heavy on the white and rosé and very light on the red.

Cocktails, anyone?

The White Wine Spritzer thespruceeats.com (see the recipe)

The most trustworthy advice I can give is to limit the cocktails to a choice that can be made with wine. The summer favorite of course is the wine spritzer. The recipe given by Colleen Graham and tested by Sean Johnson for the Spruce Eats has only 92 calories, 9 g carbs, 0 fats, and 1 g of protein. Beyond that there are canned spritzers in a variety of flavors. Your rosé wine could be used in the spritzer cocktails for an added touch of celebratory color for a bit of romantic la vie en rose.

Finally when trying to keep costs down and still have enough wine and good quality wine, there is a new trend in which various small entrepreneurial companies are offering the place, the tools, and the basic products for you to make and bottle your own wine for your wedding. This idea ties nicely into another specialty of the modern wedding industry, making your own labels with some memorable graphic or poetic content written on the label. DIY Wedding Wine on youtube.com has videos on both.

So congratulations to all the grooms and best wishes to all the brides!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and      CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: The Shape of Landscape Painting and the Meaning of Terroir in Winemaking.

Cover of Joseph Yoakum’s wonderful book of landscapes.

We tend to have a well-defined idea about what landscape painting is, but there is more than one way to see what it is that the land looks like. There is also more than one meaning for the French word for land, terroir, and that is especially important when it comes to making wine.

Featured

Painting’s Curious Color – Blue, and Wines of Noble Rot

(THE DISCUSSION OF THE COLOR BLUE CONTINUES FROM THE PREVIOUS POST)

Blue, blue, blue, so common it is that we do not think much about it, but if we look at how it appears in our language, it would seem that we think of it a lot. For instance, look at these common phrases: blue moon, sky blue, feeling blue, the blues, midnight blue, blue ribbon, blue blood, deep blue sea, blue jeans. We could go on into terms in other languages, but I am sure you have gotten the point by now: Blue is big!

In color theory, blue is often seen as a color that is non-threatening, as it calls up feelings of calm and serenity. It is a color preferred by men and is used to represent stability and reliability. (Is that why they prefer suits in deep blue?) On the other hand, it is also a color that indicates sadness or aloofness. No wonder that the music form that wails about lost love, betrayal, and heartbreak is called The Blues, and when we complain of a low period in life, it is said that we are “singing the blues.” Blue, however, is a color that seems to spur productivity. On the other hand, it certainly chills one’s appetite, as food served on blue dishes discourages one from eating, probably because dangerous foods like poisonous mushrooms often turn blue as you cut into them, and food also turns blue as it spoils. But enough of spoils, let’s look at a few famous paintings where blue plays a role.

Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring, 1665. Mauritshuis Museum, The Hague. Hover over image to magnify.

In looking at some famous paintings that feature blue, it is amusing to see how our attention on the details refocuses over the years. For instance, here in Vermeer’s famous, The Girl with a Pearl Earring, that pearl, which is rather hard to see, has become the focal point. However, the original title was probably Girl with a Blue Turban, as it was one of two paintings done “in the Turkish fashion.” Yes, the emphasis was on that brilliant patch of light blue that turned darker as it wrapped around her head. Certainly given the somber tones of the rest of the painting, the blue is an attention grabber. Everything else in the painting, except the red of her lips, is rather neutral, and the background is solid black. That blue surrounds her face and brings the viewer’s attention to it where one becomes engaged by the mystery of her expression. Is she about to speak? Or has she just said something and is waiting breathlessly for a response?

The Blue Boy by Thomas Gainsborough, 1770. Hover over image to magnify.

There was a time when this was the most famous painting in the world. Supposedly it was a type of demonstration piece to show off the artist’s talents. Gainsborough may have used his nephew as the model, though some say it was the son of a wealthy merchant. However, the youngster is dressed in 17th century clothing to mimic the look of paintings by Sir Anthony van Dyck, a painter whom Gainsborough admired greatly. That means most probably this was a painting designed not as a private portrait commission but as a way of exhibiting the artist’s painterly skills. But why the blue? Well, Gainsborough’s chief rival, Sir Joshua Reynolds, thought that blue, a cool color in the 18th century, should only be used to enhance and bring out the richer tones of warm colors. Gainsborough’s response was all blue for the main figure, with those warmer tones having secondary importance. It became quite the sensation and remains so today. London’s National Gallery is currently showing off The Blue Boy once again in Room 46 until the 15th of May, 2022.

Starry Night Over the Rhone by Vincent Van Gogh, 1888. Hover over image to magnify.

When we think of the night sky, most of us consider it black. That may be because we have not looked at it in a creative way. However, we have Vincent Van Gogh to show us the way. Van Gogh painted this night scene under the illumination of a gas lamp, a then new-fangled lighting system. Through the light of the gas lamps, the night took on a different look with a different color, that of a deep blue with aquamarine and turquoise highlights. Here, blue shows itself to be a worthy substitute for black and gray and makes the lights of the city (Arles), and the stars in the sky mirror images of one another. The shimmer of the waters of the river creates a sense of movement, which is seen by that lamplight. Here blue reigns supreme.

Pablo Picasso had a whole period in which his paintings were blue. This “Blue Period” was early in his career and started around 1900. The apocryphal tale was that the artist was so poor he could only afford blue paint, so all the paintings were blue. In actuality the story is much darker than that art history legend.

Picasso had a close friend, a young Spanish poet. His name was Carles Casagemas. The two young men carroused their way through Paris. Casagemas was involved with a woman who called herself Germaine (Laure Gargallo in reality). One night in a drunken bar scene, Casagemas threatened Germaine’s life with a pistol. In fact he fired it at her. She fell under the table (or shall I say dove under). Casagemas, thinking he had just killed her, which he had not, turned the gun on himself and committed suicide. When Picasso heard of the death of his friend, it started his blue period.

The painting above, The Old Guitarist, is almost Picasso as a blue El Greco. Everything is long and exaggerated. The palid blue of the skin and the bowed head over the guitar are an apt symbol of depression. One can almost hear a melancholy tune coming from the guitar as the old man strums out the sadness of his life. The painting is in fact a self-portrait of the soul of the then 20-year- old painter who had not yet sold any painting. The Blue Period was the first major body of work that Picasso turned out and the first development of a distinct voice for that artist, artsy.net. Of course, he went on to move into Casagemas’ vacant apartment and take up being the lover of the infamous Germaine. Even then, Picasso was Picasso.

Blue Nude II by Henri Matisse, 1952.

One of Pablo Picasso’s frenemies was Henri Matisse. Picasso actually bought some of Matisse’s work, but Matisse never bought Picasso’s. Matisse was a rather bourgeois gentleman who liked to live a well-ordered and busy life. He loved vibrant colors and was someone who was quite taken by jazz, in which the perfect moment of sensory experience of the music is called the Blue Note. Matisse even created a series of cut-outs called Jazz. Here the artist uses collage techniques to create a modernist nude, put together in pieces almost like a mosaic. Matisse experimented with color and with simplified forms. He loved seeing how the colors contrasted with one another, but blue became one of his most frequent choices. Whether it was the coolness of the color, or how he felt about jazz, as a music lover, blue became the color of many of his cut-outs.

Ah blue, that mysterious color that does not really occur naturally, that humans did not even see until they made it, that went from hot to cool with the passage of time, and which has a lifespan that fits within the limited history of civilized humanity, may be one of our greatest creations and may only be around as long as we are.

Images used for this article are either in public domain or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of discussion or critique and review.

Articles and books used for this post are as follows:

Bleu: Histoire d’une coulour by Michel Pastoureau

“The Color Psychology of Blue” Kendra Cherry and Amy Morin verywellmind.com

“The Emotional Turmoil Behind Picasso’s Blue Period” Alexxa Gotthardt artsy.net

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the About Page or the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle. Go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com and for my original art goods see etsy.com/shop/VernelleArtStudio.

What is noble about rot?

Noble rot on Riesling grapes. Photo credit to Tom Maack on Wikipedia.com

Ugh. Disgusting! Yes, that might be the first response to this picture of Riesling grapes infected with Botrytis cinerea, a fungus that infects grapes that are very ripe. Should this infestation continue, the grape harvest is ruined. This is particularly true when the weather is damp. However, just as clever viticulturists took a hard freeze back in 1794 to turn frozen grapes into ice wine, so too does the right handling of this rot make it the formula for some of the very best sweet wines.

While ice wines came from Germany, it was eastern Europe that produced the first botrisized wines. That got started in the 1500s in Hungary, with Tokaj becoming the area to first begin classifying its botrisized wines in the 18th century. (Here a photo of a bottle of Azsu Six, Photo by Meg Baggott.)

In northeast Hungary and southeast Slovakia, the rivers provide the cool morning mists that support the development of the Botrytis cinerea fungus. However, the trick is to then have warm sunny days, which helps to evaporate the water in the grapes, which the fungus has released by puncturing the skins. That means what is left is sugar. That is the making of a good sweet dessert wine.

Careful grape picking of Semillon grapes in France. winemag.com

Needless to say, the French, who are known for using the decaying processes of nature to gastronomical advantage (just think of roquefort cheese – a blue cheese by the way), were certainly not going to let the Hungarians have all the fun. In a process known in French as pourriture noble (noble rot), the Sémillon grape can be picked sometimes in successive sessions of handpicking (grape-by-grape) called tris, in order to get the very best grapes to make a category of sweet wine called Sauterne, which is a mix of Sémillon, Muscadelle, and Sauvignon Blanc grapes. The area most famous for this mix is Bordeaux.

SO WHAT DOES ALL THIS NOBILITY LEAD TO?

Ricotta cheese and berries cheesecake alwaysravenous.com

Sauternes are fine dessert wines, and one of the desserts to pair it with is a nice slice of cheesecake covered in fresh berries. Sauterne’s mix of honey and nut flavors blends well with cheesecake, ice cream, and fruit tarts. However, there are savory possibilities as well.

Roast duck, a good savory dish to pair with Sauterne. matchingfoodandwine.com

Fiona Beckett, of Matching Food and Wine suggests that all kinds of roasted fowl go well with Sauternes. Above there is a platter of roasted duck; however, a chicken can be basted with Sauterne and roasted to perfection, then served with a bottle of Sauterne. Chinese and Asian dishes are also recommended. Then of course, come the cheeses, of which roquefort is the first to come to mind. However, any number of other dishes work well with sweet wines like Sauterne or the Hungarian Tokaj, including foie gras, shellfish, and glazed pork. It is recommended to serve these dessert wines at 50-54 degrees Fahrenheit, though an aged Sauterne needs to be served a bit warmer.

So in these times of being economical, one must remember how inventive humans can be when faced with conditions that would normally destroy a valued item. If one handles things just right, what looks like a disaster can actually be a completely new item which has its own special value.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Mantegna and The World’s Most Beautiful Bridal Chamber, plus Wines for Weddings.

Andrea Mantegna’s Camera degli Sposi, the Bridal Chamber of the Marquis de Mantua, 1465-1474 Hover over image to magnify.

Heading into wedding season brings to mind the most famous bridal bedroom in the world. Done between 1465 and 1474 by Andrea Mantegna, this chamber was commission for the Ducal Palace in Mantua by the marquis, Ludovico Gonzaga III, in order to compete with other city-states that were commissioning such art. Naturally, with weddings comes the question of what wines to serve, and the answers can be surprising. See you for the next post.

Featured

The Curious Past of the Color Blue, plus Berry Wines

Interesting what we take for granted, isn’t it? For instance, when was the last time any of us stopped to think about the color blue? When one asks about it, what comes to mind most frequently is that the sky is blue. There! It is all around us, so everybody knows about blue. Not really. Blue is a color with a past. The ancient descriptions of the sky say it was colorless or white or just neutral. Little children often do not see the sky as having a color, or they use blue for a strip at the top of their drawings, with a brown strip at the bottom for earth, and a great white space in between (air?).

Part Vision by Norman Lewis, 1971. Hover over image to magnify.

Blue is a mysterious creature, perfect for expressing a vision, or at least part of one, as abstract expressionist Norman Lewis conceived of it. The painting above has us perhaps submerged in the “deep blue sea.” Or perhaps we are wandering about in a blue dream. There seem to be some objects, a tower, some shrubs, a hill. However, nothing is distinct in this shades-of-blue netherworld, which makes the painting all the more haunting.

Blue is not a naturally occuring color, and really very little on earth is actually blue, not the grasses, not most flowers, not animals or humans. Even the “blue of the sky” has nothing to do with any tactile material, but is simply a colorful trick of the eye produced when the length of the sun’s rays are long. When the rays are short, we see reds and oranges. We think of blue in modern times as being a cool color, but as Michel Pastoureau in Bleu, Histoire d’une couleur, states “…hot and cold colors are purely conventional and function differently according to the epoque (in the Middle Ages, for example, blue was a hot color)…”(p.7). The color has often been associated with green, a color much more familiar and commented upon by the Greeks and Romans, who by the way referred to the sea as “wine-dark waters.” Some tribal people when shown a series of green squares and one blue one, see the blue one as just another green square, a bit different, but green (“The Color Blue: History, Science, Facts” dunnedwards.com) While turquoise and lapis lazuli existed in certain areas on earth, it seems that people began to “see” blue when they started making the color, and that started 5500 years ago. Where? Egypt, of course.

The famous Blue Hippotomus (1981-1885 BCE) from the Metropolitan Museum, NYC and an Eye of Horus ring (18th Dynasty, Amarna Period, 14th century BCE).

The Ancient Egyptians were known for their love of faience. Although other civilizations, such as those in Mesopotamia knew of faience, it was the Ancient Egyptians that were most famous for their fabulous blue faience. It ranged in color from deep blue to sky blue to green. It was the first syntheically made color as it did not come from ground turquoise or lapis.The Egyptians would super heat a combination of quartz sand crystals with sodium, potassium, calcium, magnesium, and copper oxide (itself a way to produce blue), so that the substance could be used to form objects or to coat the inside or the outside of other objects. Faience itself is a type of glass, so its surface is shiney. That shine reminded the Ancient Egyptians of the sun, and the permanent glimmer of the objects was looked upon as magical and as a sign of rebirth in the afterlife.

Burial Necklace of Wah, 12th Dynasty worker in the time of Amenemhat I, 1981-1975 BCE

The necklace above shows the fine work that even a humble person might acquire in order to add to his burial goods. The tomb of Wah is a simple one, and seemingly none of the archeologists expected to find any treasures to speak of when they discovered it. However, when the mummy was unwrapped in 1940, a number of beautiful faience jewelry items were found along with the necklace above, which adorned the chest of the mummy. This indicates how popular and accessible blue faience was in that ancient culture. (For a better picture and an article see metmuseum.org.)

Blue faience was also often used to make Ushabtis, the little figures who were assigned to work in the afterlife on behalf of their mummified owner. The alabaster sarcophagus of Pharaoh Seti I had figures cut into it that were colored with blue infill and the interior was treated with a blue made from copper. In 1817, Giovanni Belzoni, who uncovered the tomb (sadly, robbed in ancient times), found the bottom of the sarcophagus to be pure translucent white with the blue lining still apparent. The transfer of the sarcophagus to London and almost 200 years of humidity and air pollution has turned it a buff color with the blue lining gone. Even the blue infill on the figures is now a dirty gray because of failed attempts to recreate the ancient color in the 1800s. collections.soanes.org

The history of blue runs deep among the Ancient Egyptians, as lapis lazuli was another of their favorites. Imported from Afghanistan, its long journey and the beauty of the stone made it an expensive prize. Legend has it that pharaohs made their top advisors wear necklaces of lapis lazuli, because it was believed that he who wore lapis lazuli could not lie. Though blue flowers are rare, the Ancient Egyptians even had that in the blue lotus. Often depicted on the walls of their tombs with both men and women sniffing the fragrance of the flower, it supposedly produced a feeling of well-being and aroused sexual desire.

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18th Dynasty figure from the tomb of Pharaoh Horemheb holds a blue lotus. Even the walls of the tomb are in a bluish color. Next to it, a jewel with a lapiz scarab from the Treasures of Tutankhamen

Not unlike the secret of how to make Egyptian Blue which was lost for a while (one of the discoverers of the formula was Dr. George Washington Carver, who studied a lot more than how to rotate cotton crops with those of peanuts), another fabulous blue that was also lost is Mayan Blue. Its rediscovery in 1931 came about because of scientific advances that allowed researchers to discover the key ingredient, a rare type of clay found in southern Mexico called “polygorskite.” This blue was developed between the 6th and 8th centuries CE, though there is evidence that it existed as early as 300 CE. It is not affected by erosion, the passage of time, biodegradation or even modern solvents! (“Origins of Maya Blue in Mexico” sciencedaily.com.) The famous 8th century murals of Bonampak on the Yucatan peninsula (see OfArtandWine.com “Bonampak’s Temple of the Murals”) were also known for the sparkle in the heavenly blue paint. Scientists have found that it comes from the use of azurite, a stone imported to the Maya lands from Arizona, which just shows that the desire for blue can reach to products from far distant lands. (For more on Mayan Blue and the meaning of the color for the Maya, see Production of Maya Blue youtube.com)

A pot of recreated Mayan Blue, a head from Jaina Island, Mexico, and a figure from The Mural of the Battles in Cacaxtla, near Tlaxcala, Mexico.

While the Chinese favored red as the color of good luck, they were known for making their fine porcelain in blue and white. Blue and white Chinese porcelain first appeared in the Tang dynasty (7th to early 10th centuries). However, some of the most famous blue and white Chinese porcelain appears in the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644).(For more see “Chinese Blue and White Porcelain,” Victoria and Albert Museum, London vam.ac.uk.) It was this porcelain that was imported into the royal art collection of Persia, modern Iran, and caught the eye of the Dutch traders, who brought it to Europe. Though the national color of the Dutch is orange, so popular was this blue in Holland that they decided to begin to make their own, called Delft Blue.

Certified Ming Dynasty porceilain vase; Dutch handmade Delft Blue porcelain; and a Dutch silver topped Chinese container.

When it comes to paintings in Occidental art, blue takes on a whole new life, moving from hot to cool and from a detail to being the subject of the painting itself (see the Lewis painting at the top of the page). Paintings of the Virgin Mary in the middle ages normally show her wearing what was then a hot color, blue, while Mary Magdalene was most often pictured wearing red, a cool color. Perhaps the Virgin Mary was thought to be closer to divinity, so she was dressed in a hot color, while Mary Magdalene was a former sinner (or so they say) and thus farther from god and dressed in a cool color. At any rate over the years things began to change and blue cooled off quite a bit. Next time we will take a look at some famous blue paintings.

Images used in this post are either in Public Domain or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy.

Resources used for this post are linked in the text of the article. However, two other sources were used:

Seithy the First, King of Egypt: Life and Afterlife by Aiden Dodson

Bleu: Histoire d’une coulour by Michel Pastoureau

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle or go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com. For my original art goods see etsy.com/shop/VernelleArtStudio.

The Sweeter the Berry: Berry Wines

Elderberries for the classic fruit wine favorite, Elderberry wine.

Berry wines have a rather mixed reputation. Since they are by nature sweet – very sweet, they have often been used to flavor that favorite of the 1980s, wine coolers. Elderberry wine, a supposed favorite of old ladies of a certain era, was of course, the poisoning method used in Arsenic and Old Lace. (Of Art and Wine does not recommend trying this.) Berry wines, though often do bring to mind great-grandma in her kitchen making use of an overflow harvest of berries. What couldn’t be eaten outright went into pies, canning jars, and wine bottles. In fact, making berry wines is often done in just such a low key manner that it may be one of the most accessible forms of alcoholic beverages around the world, as it can be made from bananas, pineapples, lichee fruit, oranges, and a variety of other sweet fruits not normally associated with wine. While we venerate “real wine,” i.e. that which is made from grapes, we do have to remember that grapes are a fruit, too. So let’s take our noses out of the air and really look at what is going on with berry wines.

Bluet, a sparkling wine made from Maine blueberries, Obsidean Wine Company, Bluet (see the article on vinepair.com).

Sometimes when one is dealing with a well-established idea of what a product must be, rather than compare the new creation to that which is established, it is better to start a new category. That is what Michael Terrien did when he decided to take advantage of the blueberry growing industry in Maine. Basically he decided to make a blueberry wine without adding anything extra, which meant that he had to use champagne making techniques or “bubble it.” By doing so he sought to create a special category of wine rather than have his sparkling blueberry wine compared to the sparkling grape wines. He also sought to help the blueberry industry in Maine as the natural Maine blueberry is the source of all the hybrid blueberries grown around the world. The fact that the fruit is high in antioxidents could also be a helping factor in creating a wider market for the wine. It is now sold on the East Coast and Southern California, as well as on the website, where you can find out more and meet the Bluet team (bluet.me)

Black Currants. Photo credit to Anton on Unsplash.com

Talk about great-granny in the kitchen, black current wine seems to be quite popular as a homemade wine, judging by the number of websites with recipes for making your own homebrew. I’ll let you do the research on that one; the recipes are easy to find. However, I did find that Southern Homebrew offers a black currant wine base to help get you started should you decide to go pioneer and make your own black currant wine (southernhomebrew.com).

Bottled berry wines are easier to find, with Stella Rosa Blackberry being made from Italian red grape varieties and vine-ripened blackberry purée. Cara Mello makes both an interesting blueberry wine (Cara Mello Blueberry), which is a sweet treat to serve with nuts and cheeses or with a dessert. The best is over ice, but you can mix it with your favorite cocktail. Also interesting is Cara Mello Peach, which comes in a delicate pale pink color and works fabulously well over ice. It is full of flavorful juicy peaches with a hint of the peach blossom, as well. Arbor Mist makes a blackberry and merlot wine that combines the best of both worlds in an unexpected way described as “ripe and delicious.”

While Apothic Wines, Modesto, California, makes red wine blends from grapes, there is one of their wines that draws attention, Apothic Brew. Its tasting notes are “Bold, Blackberry, Mocha,” but the really interesting part is that the wine is infused with cold brew coffee. It is full bodied blend of reds with concentrated blackberry notes with subtle chocolate and mocha traits of cold brew. apothic.com.

Homemade Berry Spritzer from cookthestory.com

Of course, we have the spritzers, with fruit. The one above is made from dry white wine, soda, and a squeeze of lemon or lime. Christine at cookthestory.com shares a neat trick to not water the spritzer down with melting ice. She uses frozen berries, which add to the taste. Berries are also a nice companion to sparkling wines, especially a nice rosé sparkler with a strawberry or two to add both flavor and flair. I shall end where we began with the bottled wine cooler. Yes. they are with us, and Seagram’s leads the pack with its Seagram’s Escapes: Jamaican Me Happy! Lemons, strawberries, watermelon and guava. Get one ready for a trip (if even imaginary) to the Caribbean. Bon voyage!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Painting’s Curious Color – Blue (continued), and Wines of Noble Rot.

The Blue Boy by Gainesborough, 1770.

Well, there he is The Blue Boy, the painting that became the most famous of its day and one that set out to prove that blue could hold its own by itself. Of course, other painters found out the value of a blue palette. Of Art and Wine looks at Vermeer, Van Gogh, Picasso and Matisse as well and offers a bit of insight into the term Noble Rot.

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Masters of the Flowers, plus Napa Valley Vineyards in Spring.

Spring is here or at least mostly here, and the idea of flowers everywhere to herald the return of good weather, sunshine, and happiness comes naturally with the season. With that in mind, Of Art and Wine takes a look at some of the more famous painters of flowers, along with a short tour of springtime as celebrated in the vineyards of the Napa Valley. Let’s go, shall we?

Master Painters and Their Flowers

Nympheas by Claude Monet, 1916. Hover over the image to magnify.

Behind his back, the six local gardeners whom Claude Monet hired to keep his gardens at Giverney called him “le marquis.” If he didn’t in fact have a royal title, he most certainly became art world royalty as leader of the French Impressionists and the creator of the national treasure of his gardens filled with waterlily ponds. In fact, Monet said, “My finest masterpiece is my garden.”

Monet was already quite rich and successful by the time he started working on the gardens and painting the waterlilies. He developed those paintings over the last 30 years of his life, roughly 1896-1926. He displayed some of them in 1900 and again in 1908 at Galerie Durand-Ruel in Paris; however, their reception was not well taken, with some wondering about the old artist’s perception of things. Not wanting to deal with misguided commentary, Monet withheld the paintings and just continued to work. It wasn’t until 1927, a year after his death, that the paintings appeared in the especially made setting of the Orangerie. They were the artist’s gift of peace to the nation after the Great War (1914-1918), the canons of which he often heard from his peaceful gardens at Giverney.

Waterlilies by Claude Monet, 1906. Art Institute of Chicago artic.edu Hover over the image to magnify.

Everything about the gardens and their ponds of lilies was a fantasy. The waters of a nearby river had been diverted to create the ponds. The lilies were not native to France, but imports from South America and Egypt. Ross King in his book Mad Enchantment, represents Monet’s gardens this way. “In short, the fabled waterlily location at Giverny, far from being a natural outcrop of rural France, was a laboratory in which Monet carefully assembled the colours and shapes to which he required access at a moment’s notice.”

Monet was not just interested in the beauty of the specific mixes of color, which he had crafted in his orders to the gardeners about what to plant and where, but in reforming the whole idea of landscape painting. His work in the latter days of his career moved towards decentralizing the standard imagery of landscape, taking away the normal boundaries that mark a scene and just putting the viewer somewhere out there among the lilies. Some have wanted to say that it was a process related to the slow development of cataracts, but if one looks at his work, one can see this removal of boundaries happening before his eye troubles. Of Art and Wine looks at this aspect of Monet’s work with the lily ponds in “Monet’s Lily Pond and the Last of the Summer Wine,” where art critic Stephane Lambert’s theories in Adieu a la Paysage (Goodbye to the Landscape) are examined (August 30, 2019 post). Above and beyond the beauty of the flowers in their watery existence were the theories of painting light and light reflected off of water, which the artist wanted to address, and in doing so open our eyes to a new reality.

Bouquet of Violets by Edouard Manet, 1872. Hover over image to magnify.

The previous post on Of Art and Wine dealt with the whether or not of an affair between Berthe Morisot and Edouard Manet. Violets seemed to be the flower that he most associated with her. Manet famously said, “It is not enough to know your craft; you have to have feeling.” This painting is often seen as a private love message in what was on the surface a very proper relationship between the married artist, Manet, and one of his favorite models, Berthe Morisot, who ultimately became his sister-in-law. The red fan is something she carries in his portrait of her in The Balcony. The letter only shows it was addressed to Mlle Morisot and signed by Edouard Manet; however, the combination of the three symbols of romance from the Victorian Era, violets, a fan, and a letter, would possibly indicate a hidden love message.

Here we see Manet’s skill with a simple vase of Tulips and Roses (1882). Toward the end of his life, illness limited Manet’s mobility. He was only able to paint the flowers that people brought to him. However, his skill came to the fore with dramatic but simple settings like we have here. The stark whitish table with the abstract patterns of the bouquet’s shadows has a background of deep brownish black, which serves to highlight the color of the flowers. The real magic happens inside the crystal vase where a wild tangle of stems, leaves, and water play with our imaginations.

Irises by Vincent Van Gogh, 1889 J. Paul Getty Museum, California. Hover over image to magnify.

To say that Vincent Van Gogh had a special relationship with irises is putting it mildly. While, yes, he also painted sunflowers and those lovely spring almond blossoms gifted to his brother upon the birth of Theo’s son, Van Gogh’s irises are amazements to behold. The ones above were done within a week of his entry into the asylum in Saint Remy de Provence from flowers in the gardens of the asylum. He referred to them as the “lightening conductor for my illness,” a type of inspirational subject that let him hold on to sanity. Painting and perhaps in particular these rather close up paintings, as opposed to larger landscapes, seemed to focus his attention in ways that calmed his nerves (Van Gogh Close-up, catalog edited by Cornelia Homburg, Yale University Press, 2012).

Van Gogh’s irises are noted for their magnificent blues; however, there are some paintings in which the blues are just the remains of vibrant purples that have faded away. Somehow in his first weeks within the asylum, he focused intensely on the flowers’ rich purples, as it is a mix of peaceful blue and deep blood red. That volatile mix presents a color long associated with royalty, power, and wealth. Van Gogh suffered from poverty his whole life, with his paintings not selling until after his death. Irises are associated with death, as they were often used to decorate graves to help with that passage across the bridge made of rainbows represented by the Greek goddess Iris. This may also have been on his mind, especially since his own death, supposedly of suicide, happened the very next year, 1890.

Irises by Vincent Van Gogh, 1889. From his stay in the asylum at St. Remy de Provence.

The painting above was one that Van Gogh focused on in those early days at the asylum as he tried to regain health and mental stability while being surrounded with the mentally unstable. He focused on the color (originally deep purple but here faded to the blues) as a way to hold on to his own sanity. This painting was purchased after the artist’s death by an art critic who noted how well Van Gogh “understood the exquisite nature of flowers” (Octave Mirbeau).

Amaryllis by Piet Mondrian, 1910. wikiart.org

Piet Mondrian (1872-1944), a Dutch artist, lived by a rather repressive theology which informed his philosophy of painting. It dealt with a purity of vision that only allowed for red, yellow, blue, and white and black, as well as straight or perpendicular joined lines (no diagonals, please).Yet, he also painted flowers. The watercolor above keeps to a lot of that basic philosophy about what the pure colors are, though he hedges a bit with the shadings of blue and white to create the bottle and the stamen of the flowers. Mondrian’s world of the abstract, represented by his more commonly known geometric works (see below) was the art to which the flowers were a counterpoint. He sometimes indicated that he did not like doing flowers because they were just the way he paid his bills when his “real art” was not being purchased. However, it does seem that he did flowers even after his artistic philosophy based on Madame Blavatsky’s Theosophy was fully entrenched. Perhaps in order to keep the more messy details of life arranged, he re-dated many of those flowers to an earlier period in his career before his ideas on art cemented themselves.

The beauty of his flowers with sometimes their starkly shocking colors or even unnatural colors were obviously items he may have enjoyed the painting of, even if he did not like the financial reasons for which he had to paint them. Often representing just one stem of flowers, like in Japanese painting, the spareness in the representation allows for the color to have greater impact. For more on Mondrian’s work look at this article “Piet Mondrian Did What? Flowers!” in the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com

A Mondrian Chrysanthemum and a Mondrian Geometric.

Perhaps when looking at the duality represented in Mondrian’s geometric abstractions and the nature shown in his floral paintings, it is best just to enjoy them rather than fathom the dualities and conflicts in the complexity of the artist’s personality. However, just to really tickle our minds’ fancy, I will leave you with one of his trees.

Tree Study by Piet Mondrian, 1908

Paintings used in this article are in Public Domain

Reference works used are as follows:

Mad Enchantment: Claude Monet and the Painting of the Water Lilies by Ross King

“Life as Myth: A Bouquet of Violets” lifeasmyth.com

Van Gogh Close Up, the catalog for the art exhibition, Philadelphia Museum of Art, edited by Cornelia Homberg, 2012.

“Piet Mondrian’s Flowers” on ideasurges ideasurges.tumblr.com

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle or go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com.

Springtime in the Valley – the Napa Valley, Of Course.

Vineyards in the Napa Valley. Photo from pixabay.com

Spring turns out to be one of the very best times to take a visit to the Napa Valley wine country. The weather is delightful, as the heavy heat of summer has not arrived. April is sparse when it comes to major holidays with vacations, as spring break has come and gone, and Easter does not create the traffic that Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s do. That all means many fewer tourists. However, it does not mean that the valley is dead.

The arts are definitely alive in the valley. The Arts Council Napa Valley has a calendar of events that range from poetry, to theater, to music, to plein air painting. The downtown districts of towns like St. Helena, Calistoga, Yountville, and Napa all take part. The Arts Council presents abstract art at the Guild Studio in the city of Napa, April 25 through the 30th as part of their April in the Arts program.

The Nichelini Family Winery hosts a plein air event on the 23rd and 24th of April, starting around 10:00. Artists come to work on their plein air pieces out on the grounds of the winery, while those who have wine tasting appointments are able to enjoy the wine and the artistic ambience. Artists who participate receive their own snack pack and complimentary wine tasting. The artists must sign up in advance, but there is no fee. Those who want to taste wine must make a tasting appointment, with tastings from 11:00 a.m until 5:00 p.m. For more information contact mail@nicheliniwinery.com

For music lovers, there is SIP Napa Valley (Songwriters in Paradise), the creation of Patrick Davis, a song-writer from Nashville who first tried this idea in the Bahamas and has since added Cabo San Lucas and the Napa Valley to his list. SIP is happening this year between April 21st and 24th in a variety of venues, see sftourism.com. If jazz is your thing, then head to the Blue Note on the first floor of the Napa Valley Opera House, for music every night of the week and of course wine to taste and samples of food.

For food events, this was the 11th year for the Appellation St Helena Wine Tasting and Food Pairing Competition. Yes, this is a competitive event, which brings out the best of the Valley’s wines and gourmet food items. Normally held either in March or April, mark you calendars in advance by contacting https://appellationsthelena.com.

You can Hike in the Vineyards at Pine Ridge Vineyards or find out more about viticulture at Stag’s Leap. Attend a Rose Garden Party April 16th at Silverado Vineyards, which comes complete with tea sandwiches, scones, savory bites and lawn bowling. Celebrate Easter Sunday at the Silverado Resort. Activities cover both the 16th and the 17th, with events for everyone in the family, including decorating Easter eggs, and dining well either at a lunch buffet or a prix-fixe three course meal for dinner.

For those wanting romance, on April 16 at sunset one can take the Napa Valley Wine Train for a marvelous meal and a romantic ride through the valley. It’s huge vistadome provides marvelous views and a nighttime of beautiful moonlight and stars. For more on the Wine Train, contact winetrain.com and find out about their many other romantic packages.

Spring in the Napa Valley. pixabay.com

So, whether it is painting, wine tasting, musical entertainment, or just enjoying the scenery, it is all going on in the Napa Valley this spring, and it is still just April!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and     CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: The Curious Past of the Color Blue, plus Berry Wines.

Part Vision by Norman Lewis, 1971.

We see it everyday, but have we really considered that Blue is a color with a past? In the Middle Ages it was a hot color; in our day it is cool calm and collected. Egyptian blue was used in ancient times, lost and rediscovered. The Maya blue found in the temples of Bonampak in the Yucatan has traces of azurite from Arizona! This color has had quite a life, so let’s explore it.

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An Art History C.S.I.: Morisot and Manet. Love? But No Letters! Plus Veuve Clicquot.

Berthe Morisot with a Bouquet of Violets by Edouard Manet, 1872. Hover over image to magnify.

The woman who looks out at us with those intense dark eyes is Berthe Morisot, one of the few female impressionists, and a painter of such distinction that she is actually remembered as such. The rich skin tones of her face stand out from a surround of black clothing. The lips are bow-shaped and held as though she is appropriately suppressing a smile. The eyes are so very intense, warm, and focused that one wonders what effect they had on the artist who was painting the portrait. For that artist must certainly have been much in the mind of this, his subject, as her large eyes gazed warmly in his direction. A sweet, sad tenderness is at the heart of this painting, represented subtly by the bouquet of violets almost hidden in the center of Morisot’s black cape.

Edouard Manet painted 17 portraits of Berthe Morisot, making her his favorite muse. Other models, Victorine Meurent, who modeled nude for Olympia but who also became a painter, and Eva Gonzalès, who was Manet’s one student and whose praises he sang to Morisot, were in paintings showing action or representing different characters. The portrait of Gonzalès, for example, shows her at the easel, palette and brush in hand, as she dashes off a painting. Meurent modeled not as herself, but as characters in some of Manet’s most controversial paintings (Olympia and Luncheon on the Grass). The difference is that the paintings of Morisot were only about Morisot.

Different Moods Morisot 1872 Close-up from The Balcony, 1868, and Morisot in 1873 all by Edouard Manet

Berthe Morisot (1841-1895) came from a bourgeois family where the young women of the family were expected to be educated in the arts. In fact, of the four children, it was she and her sister Edma who trained with Camille Corot, the famous French landscape artist. While Edma’s career ended with her marriage and motherhood, Berthe’s career continued. Morisot’s beauty was often commented upon. She was known to have such gracious

manners that she made others feel self-conscious. As she was from a well-off family, being restrained and respectable was the hallmark of a young woman of her position, as being a gentleman was for Edouard Manet.

This is Edouard Manet (1832-1883) as he was in 1867 (portrait by Fantin-LaTour). He was very much the stylish bourgeois man about town, conservative in many ways but outlandish for his time in terms of his paintings. This last trait caused him to be the source of unwanted controversy but also to be the artist most respected by the likes of the young Impressionists like Monet. Thus Manet became the leader of the avant-garde painters of his day. He was like this in 1868 when he met Morisot as she sketched in the Louvre.

Ah, two artists meeting in the Louvre in the city of love and romance, Paris, would seem to fulfill all the necessary qualities for a Hollywood film. Au contraire! Manet was married, but under rather odd circumstances, involving most probably the cover-up of an illegitimate child – not his own. The Manet family had hired a Dutch-born music teacher, Suzanne Leenhoff, who after a while in the employ of the Manet family produced a “little brother” named Leon. While some art historians claim this was a son of Edouard Manet, most have decided that it was his father’s child and thus Edourd’s half-brother. Long-story short, Manet married Suzanne to hush the scandal. Using the invented last name of Koelia, Leon Leenhoff Koelia over the years seems to have been taken as their son, though the couple never produced any other children.

Meanwhile, another curiosity in this relationship between Manet and Morisot is that their families moved in the same social circles which corresponded with one another through letters, invitations, and greetings of various kinds, but there are no letters between Morisot and Manet, not even invitations to come model in his studio, despite that she sat for 17 portraits. Is this lack of evidence, actually evidence of something much deeper?

Morisot did write to her sister, Edma, who painted this portrait of Berthe in 1865, about her frustrations and sadness over the barriers between her and Manet. Morisot’s mother, whether to help shake her out of it or pour vinegar in the wound, pointed out to her daughter that Manet had taken up with Eva Gonzalès who was so much more “accomplished” than Berthe. (Thanks, Mom.) Berthe did indicate a jealous satisfaction to her sister when Manet expressed his frustrations working with the strong-willed Gonzalès. So some of her feelings for Manet were known.

Berthe Morisot with a Fan by Edouard Manet, 1872. Hover over image to magnify.

In this piece by Manet, Morisot poses coyly holding a fan over her face, once again dressed in black. By the way, Manet was much in love with Spanish painting where figures were customarily dressed in traditional Spanish black. Morisot increases the mystery by wearing pink slippers. Having one leg crossed over the other allows for one of these dainty pink items to project out. Like a geisha enfolded in layers of kimono, offering a view of a little patch of skin at the nape of the neck as an enticement, Morisot dangles before the painter this tiny shoe with an ornamental flower on its toe.

Berthe Morisot, Le Repos by Edouard Manet, 1873. Hover over image to magnify.

Here Morisot rests in a languid pose, gazing off into the distance, one beautiful long-fingered hand resting on a red-violet cushioned sofa. Her gaze seems distant and distracted, though the painting above her of a stormy sea may hold some indication of what may have been going on between them. Near her right arm is what looks like a clump of violets, the flower that wanders like a musical refrain through these portraits. The portraits came to an end in 1874 when Morisot married Edouard Manet’s brother, Eugène. Her mother objected, as Eugène seemed not to have a profession. However, the marriage worked well, with Eugène promoting his wife’s art. The couple had a daughter, Julie, which was the light of her mother’s life.

However, back to the relationship, such as it was, or whatever it was, and the lack of letters. There is some dispute over how much access Berthe and Edouard had to one another. Yes, there were 17 portraits and the sittings that went with making them. As Jeffrey Myers purports in “Morisot & Manet”(newcriterion.com), with all the time they spent together in his studio, even with societal prohibitions, something must have boiled over. However, other historians point out that Mme. Morisot, Berthe’s mother, was always with her when she went to visit Manet. I tend to believe the latter as Manet suffered from syphillis, though Morisot never manifested that, hence perhaps no intimate contact. On the other hand, some indicate that Manet and Morisot mutually burned their love letters before her marriage to Eugène. As dramatic and oscar-winning as that might have been, I suggest that given the social constraints of the time, as well as Manet’s marriage and Morisot’s mother, there may never have been such letters. Communications could have easily happened in person at the many weekly gatherings that included both families.

Finally there is Morisot’s beautiful daughter, Julie, whose parents were both dead by the time she reached her late teens. The curmudgeonly family friend, Edgar Degas, noting this situation, took it upon himself to find for Julie and a close cousin of hers a handsome pair of young

men from good families, both with promising careers as military officers. He had them introduced. Et voilà! Nature took its course, and there wound up being a double-marriage ceremony. Julie went on to have a happy marriage and ultimately a son. It was the son, Berthe’s grandson, who years after her death, edited the letters of his grandmother. Perhaps it was his hand that destroyed, as inappropriate to his grandmother’s memory, any record of a passion between Manet and Morisot. And so ends what is known and what is assumed about this relationship that seemed so fraught with passion, whether equally felt or not, and filled with disappointment on many fronts. Love, but no letters, and some wonderful paintings. But wait, there is one last thing.

This painting is a gift from Manet to Berthe Morisot. Violets, 1872. Hover over image to magnify.

There is a letter here, though perhaps it is only a symbol of what could never be.

Paintings used in this article are in Public Domain.

Articles used for this post are as follows:

“Berthe Morisot” theartstory.org

Berthe Morisot, Woman Impressionist, a book of essays. Published by Rizzoli/Electra, 2019.

“Escaping Social Distancing: Morisot and Manet – An Affair to Remember”by Joan Hart artseverydayliving.com

“Manet and Morisot: A Tale of Love and Sadness in Portraits” ArtVentures art-ventartventures.blogspot.com

“Morisot & Manet” by Jeffrey Meyers newcriterion.com

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle or go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com

Veuve Clicquot: The Widow and Her Champagne.

Portrait of Barbe-Nicole Ponsardin Clicquot

Since this is Women’s History Month, one must take a look at the life of and the product/company created by Madame Clicquot, known from her 27th birthday as The Widow Clicquot (Veuve Clicquot). Born in the late 1700s in the Champagne region of France, the times were indeed perilous. Born into an affluent family of textile merchants, she married the boy at the estate next door, François Clicquot, son of another wealthy textile merchant, but one who had taken to dabbling with making wine, including one named for the region, Champagne.

As was mentioned the times were perilous since the French Revolution (1789) and the following Reign of Terror meant that many of the wealthy lost everything, including their heads. The Ponsardin and Clicquot families managed to be shrewd enough politically and at enough of a distance from the capital, Paris, to escape that fate. However, in 1798, Mme. Clicquot’s enthusiastic young husband, who eschewed the textile business for winemaking, died suddenly, leaving his 27-year-old widow behind. What to do? Barbe-Nicole’s family had a tradition of wine making which had been instrumental in the young couple’s joint interest in making and selling wines. Well, with land and good crops, you’ve got a business, and that is just what the Widow focused on, the building of a wine business based upon the making of a stellar champagne, which bore the name used to reference her, Veuve Clicquot.

However, it wasn’t easy. One can tell by the portrait above that the Widow Clicquot was a shrewd and tough businsess woman who could make hard but also creative decisions. With her husband’s death, her father-in-law wanted to close the fledgeling and failing wine business; however, Barbe-Nicole presented him with another proposal, which he accepted as long as she would undergo winemaking training. She did and stuck with the idea of making champagne. In 1811 during Napoleon’s campaign in Russia, she made a Hail Mary decision to supply her champagne to the Russians who loved the drink. She got it through to that Russian clientele by letting the French soldiers who were blockading traffic into Russia but who also loved champagne have some.

Those soldiers had no corkscrews, so they used their sabers to knock off the caps of the bottles, creating that dramatic tradition that is often seen in film, known as sabrage. For instruction in this and a very amusing video, look at Champage Saber Time youtube.com. I suggest that you do this when out on field maneuvers or while camping, but don’t try it at home unless you want a broken window.

The Widow had great success with both Napoleon’s soldiers and the Russians. The Czar only drank Veuve Clicquot and that magical vintage is known as the Legendary Vintage of 1811. The Widow’s inventiveness did not stop there. In 1818, she reimagined rosé champagne by combining Chardonnay with Pinot Noir and Meunier grapes. She also invented the process of riddling or the turning of the bottles of champagne on racks where the bottles were placed at 45 degree angles. This way during the second fermentation, the dead yeast could easily be loosed up from the botton and taken off the top of the bottle rather than pouring the champagne from one bottle to another. Those riddling racks also proved to be a great way to ship the champagne, which expanded her business to the Scandinavian countries and to America.

The cellars at Veuve Clicquot in France.

The Widow Clicquot is credited with making champagne available to people far beyond Europe and in the 20th century the Clicquot empire expanded to its present-day income of 1.3 billion dollars in sales per year. It is now a valuable and highly valued part of the Louis Vuitton Moet Hennesey (LVMH) empire of luxury goods. For more of Mme Clicquot’s exploits see Natasha Geiling’s article “The Woman Who Created the Champagne Industry” smithsonianmag.com.

To get the most out of this marvelous champagne, it must be served in the right way and in the right glass. Flutes that close in at the top or as seen here large red wine glasses that again are narrow at the top work well to keep in those valuable bubbles. The long stems are for holding the glass, rather than putting one’s fingers around the bowl which serves to warm the wine which is best served chilled. The best temperature for serving it is between 8-10°C (47-50°F). However, do not store the bottles in the refrigerator as too much refrigeration spoils the taste, so keep in in wine cellar conditions.

As for food pairings, Veuve Clicquot goes extremely well with oysters, white fish, white meat, and with Gouda cheese. As for specific food combinations, no better advice is offered than that at veuveclicquot.com. It boils down to Pairing or Balance. In Pairing, the goal is to match like with like. They give the example of Vintage Rose 2000 with a lamb tajine (spicy with spicy). For Balance, it is a matter of contrasts that balance out one another. Their exmple is acidic/sweet or acidic/fatty, as in Vintage Reserve 1996 and creamy chicken. Their website also offers recipes.

However, you choose to enjoy this most celebrated of champagnes, just remember that it was a woman’s ingenuity that created it and made it thrive. Vive Veuve Clicquot!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and      CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

COMING SOON: Masters of the Flowers and Napa Valley Vineyards in Spring.

Le basin aux nymphéas by Claude Monet

Spring and flowers go together, and who doesn’t think of Claude Monet when beautiful flower paintings come to mind? But wait, there is also Edourd Manet, Mary Cassatt, Vincent Van Gogh, and even Gustave Courbet! It is time to take a look at the art of flowers and the masters who painted them. And while we are at it, we can take a trip to the Napa Valley for an off-season treat of wine activities.

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Observing the Observed in La Loge, and Women Winemakers.

La loge or In the Loge by Mary Cassatt, 1878. en.wikipedia.org. Hover over image to magnify.

The Paris of the late 19th century was a city full of show. Baron Haussmann’s grand boulevards were great for strolling and viewing fine new buildings and fine new people. This strolling and viewing can be seen in the art, as in Gustave Caillebotte’s Paris Street, Rainy Day (1877), or at the horseraces at Longchamp, as in Edgar Degas’ The Parade (1868), or a night’s entertainment, as in Edouard Manet’s Bar at the Folies Bergère (1882). Perhaps the grandest place for en masse people-watching was the Palais Garnier Opera House, that fabulous building that seats nearly 2,000 people all in one glorious space. As opposed to the streets of Paris, the racetrack, or the folies, the opera house offered a female the perfect setting to enjoy watching people, often with the aid of opera glasses which could magnify the figures for close-up viewing. Mary Cassatt, an American impressionist painter living in Paris took full advantage of this to offer a number of observed figures, whose inner thoughts we might only guess, in a series of paintings referring to the loges or the box seats.

The interior of the Palais Garnier Opera House showing orchestra seating and the loges or boxes. Photo credit to Wikimedia commons.wikimedia.org. Hover over image to magnify.

The loges in the Palais provided a great venue for viewing. As women were allowed to come to the opera (only with a male companion, of course, in keeping with 19th century mores), the opportunity to see and be seen yielded exciting possibilities to show themselves in evening splendor, see who was with whom, and make connections of their own. Juicy! The woman in black in Cassatt’s painting may have been her sister, Lydia. Regardless, what we see is a woman with her opera glasses trained on someone (or ones) across the cavernous space of the palais. The lights are on in the house, which means nothing is happening on the stage. The woman’s opera glasses are trained not down toward the stage but across to the other side of the theater, where she views intently something or someone of interest.

Meanwhile to her right and just in the bend of the curving gallery of chairs is a man who is viewing this same lady, all dressed in her very demure black. Unlike her binocular opera glasses, his has a single lens, probably expandable like a spyglass, both the style and shape of which are symbolic of a certain interest he may have in what he has spied. However, he is not the only voyeur, because Cassatt has arranged these figures so that the viewer of the painting is also involved. The viewer can look at this woman who does not see that she is being spied upon and silently chuckle at how unaware she is of being admired. We can, of course, expand this by thinking about who in the museum is watching the person who is watching the characters in this painting.

Mary Cassatt (1844-1926) grew up near Pittsburgh, studied painting in Philadelphia before going to tour Europe. In 1873 she settled in Paris and became part of the group calling themselves Impressonists. She is one of only three women and the only American to join the French Impressionists. “Cassatt’s painting explores the very act of looking, breaking down the traditional boundaries between the observer and the observed, the audience and the performer.” collections.mfa.org

In the Corner of the Box by Mary Cassatt, 1879. wikiart.org

Here again we have two young women at the opera. The lighting might suggest that the young woman with the binoculars is actually looking at the stage, as the theater behind her is dark. She and the female with her have the front of their bodies lit by a bright light, coming from the direction that the young woman is viewing, once again most probably the stage. Since the viewer of the painting is the secret observer here, that viewer would notice the attire of the young women, the white gloves, the delicate fan, and the off-shoulder dresses decorated with flowers. They are themselves two blossoms being presented in the opera’s springtime.

Dans la loge by Mary Cassatt, 1879. Hover over image to magnify.

In this scene, the house lights are up, and the young woman looks not in the direction of the stage, which would be to her left, but straight across the theater to the loges opposite her. She has no binoculars. Cassastt captures the idea of a full house of attendees in a quick impressionistic style of splotches of color. The rich operatic red of the interior is balanced with the soft yellow-green of spring, which is the dominant color that the young woman wears. With flowers in her hair, and her skin rosed up by the dramatic theater lighting, this young woman leans forward to both see the spectacle of opera goers and show her own lovely countenance. And we, the viewers, get to view her and imagine who might be taking a look at her from some distant balcony.

Woman with a Peal Necklace by Mary Cassatt, 1879. artsandculture.google.com. Hover over image to magnify.

Unlike the more shy young woman who sits in the shadows of an upper loge, leaning forward to be seen, here we have a mature lady who takes center stage in the orchestra-level seating. The model for this and several of Cassatt’s paintings was her sister, Lydia. Cassatt takes full advantage of the dramatic theater lighting to show off this confident beauty who wears a single strand pearl choaker. Cassatt shows the woman’s audience by giving us the scene of the balcony seats just behind and to the right of this woman. They appear as splotches of color above the gold that trims their box seats, while Lydia is all pinks and pale violets, a living Valentine. Cassatt’s observations of the effects of light allow her to make Lydia glow, with bright light on one side that falls into dappled shadows in blues and violets over her face and arms. In contrast, her coppery hair glows in the bright light as if a personal beacon hailing all with a “look at me” signal. We, who are doing our own silent viewing, wonder who else in that theater was captivated by this smiling beauty with a pearl necklace.

Mary Cassatt was as innovative as any of the other impressionists and her work a standout in terms of its subject matter. Her work in her series of loge paintings particulary captures the way that the opera was a cultured way for women to be present and seen in Parisian society. It opened opportunities for them to make connections of many kinds, such as engagements that led to marriage or encounters that led to “patrons” for those women known as Les grandes horizontales. The flowers in the hair and dresses of the women often signaled a variety of things. Most famously, Marie Duplessis, the original Lady of the Camelias, wore red flowers at a certain time of the month to let her patrons know that she was indisposed for a few days.

While both Renoir and Degas did paintings of the Palais Garnier’s loges, Cassatt’s series invoke more mystery, as they make the viewer wonder what is going on in the minds of the people who are so engaged in looking at one another. Her paintings of the loges at the opera allow women to shine but from the point of view of another woman, one who was observing the various scenes that took place in that very public place. Cassatt, while famous for her paintings of women and children, was also a close friend of Edgar Degas and sometimes about his only friend, as Degas had a rather difficult personality. There is some speculation that he had a hand in doing some background work in a few of her paintings, like Little Girl in Blue Armchair. However, that would be a good subject for another blog post.

Note: For those anywhere near Denver, Colorado, before March 13th, the Denver Art Museum is hosting a traveling show of some 100 paintings in an exhibition called Whistler to Cassatt, American Painters in France. If you miss Denver, from April 16 to July 31, 2022, the same show will be at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond, VA.

Paintings used in this post are in Public Domain.

Articles used to research this post are as follows:

“France’s Forgotten Impressionist” by Lara Marlowe irishtimes.com

“In the Loge: Mary Cassatt knew that staring was rude” by Jennifer Tucker, sartle.com

Paris: Capital of the 19th Century by Dana Goldstein, Brown University. library.brown.edu

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle or go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com

Women in Wine: The Female Vintners

The “She Can” collection of wines in a can from the McBride Sisters Wines mcbridesisters.com

Gone are the days when the image of women winemakers was one of barefoot peasant women stomping around in vats of grapes. No. It’s a new day, and time to take a look at what women have been doing to make their mark in this male-dominated industry. The McBride Sisters’ Black Girl Wines was mentioned in the last post on Richard Mayhew and Black-American Vintners. In this case, one of the sisters grew up in New Zealand and the other in Monterey, California. When they found each other in 2005, they realized they had this desire to work with winemaking (click the link above to see their story). Their motto is “Break the rules. Drink the wine.” They have been creating delicious wines in a variety of formats, including the She Can ever since they hooked up in 2005. Their website not only shows the wines, but also does guides on food pairing and has a downloadable e-Cookbook. Just click here or go to their website’s Eat+Drink tab (mcbridesisters.com).

Julia, Karoline, and Elena Walch at their wine estate, Alto Adige. Photo credit Elena Walch (ediblesouthflorida.ediblecommunities.com) Hover over image to magnify.

The mother and two daughters above make some of Italy’s most elite wines in their winery, which was built from an old monastery in Termeno, Italy, a commune not far from Bolzano in the north of Italy. The daughters have studied winemaking in France and Australia and returned to Italy to work with their mother, who believes that “beauty must go with quality.” Jeffrey Wolfe, the author of the article, “Women Who Make Wine” goes on to talk about other female vintners like Kristen Belair of Honig Winery in the Napa Valley, who points out that 15% of the vintners in the Napa Valley are women.

There is some evidence that women have certain qualities that make them superb vintners. Karen McNeil’s blog Wine Speed (winespeed.com) presents evidence that women have superior senses of taste and smell, both of which are critical when it comes to making wine (not to mention the food pairings to go with the wines). The science says that women have 50% more olfactory cells in their brains than men, and that comes from studies done by the University of California, San Franciso, School of Medicine.

Amy Bess Cook founder of Women-Owned Wineries. Photo credit vinepair.com. Hover over image to magnify.

Added to this is the women’s ability to know that they must stick together in order to make an impact. WOW or Women-Owned Wineries is a group of female winemakers started by Amy Bess Cook, a writer and communications consultant, as a way to present the public with the choice of supporting women vintners. A “vote with your dollars” sort of movement, the association has grown to some 50 women winemakers in the Sonoma Valley. See the article by Laura Scholz on vinepair.com

Susana Balbo of Susana Balbo Wines, Argentina. Photo credit Susana Balbo decanter.com. Hover over image to magnify.

From Argentina, to Australia, Austria, Chile, France, New Zealand, Spain, South Africa, the U.K. and the U.S.A, women are showing up as superb winemakers. Decanter’s article “Women in wine: award-winning wines by influential females” gives a run-down on the achievements of female vinters in the countries listed above (click the link under the photo). Each has a story of trial and travail leading to great success, and it is only the beginning.

For more on Women in Wine, take a look at these websites to get a fuller and quite inspiring overview of what is happening in this area of winemaking:

“California’s Next Generation Lead Women Winemakers and the Promise that Accompanies their Success,” grapecollective.com

“11 Best Wines Made by Women,” bestproducts.com

“Five Inspiring Women in the World of Wine,” townandcountrymag.com.

“Women in Wine, Top Female Winemakers” Decant with D video for Women’s History Month on youtube.com

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and     CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

COMING SOON: An Art History C.S.I. Berthe Morisot and Edouard Manet – Love? but no Letters, plus Veuve Clicquot, the Widow and Her Champagne.

Le repos (Repose) by Edouard Manet, 1871. Hover over image to magnify.

Lovely, isn’t she? That is Berthe Morisot, a painter in her own right, who was the subject of 17 portraits by Edouard Manet, painted right up until she married his brother. The Morisot family and the Manet family were quite close and had lots of correspondence between them, invitations, social events, and the like. However, despite Manet’s obvious interest in Berthe, as she modeled for all those portraits, there is not one letter between the two of them, an art history mystery.

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Richard Mayhew: Painted Love Poems for the Earth and Black-American Vintners

When I was studying art history in Avignon, heart of Provence and the Côte de Rhone wine region, my classmates would sometimes roll their eyes at my affection for landscape painting. They would admit that their area was beautiful, indeed, with its vineyards, olive groves, and lavender fields. However, landscape painting was rather passée, though (eye-roll) always very popular with “les américains.” Well yes, we like landscape paintings, and while France is literally a garden, it doesn’t have the landscape that we have in North America. There is no vastness, no trajectory from soft low mountains across endless prairies to high rugged peaks. There is no southwestern desert, an area so unique that one could believe it came from some other planet and simply smashed into and melded with a primodial Earth. Yet, when I looked at France and how over the centuries, the people had always looked at and worked with the landscape to make France that garden I spoke of, I saw a common human link. We are all tied to the land. It is us, and we are it.

Spiritual Retreat #1 by Richard Mayhew, 1997. Hover over image to magnify.

As one looks at this painting, it is easy to see why it is called Spiritual Retreat #1. It has the dreamlike quality of a meditation. One does not walk physically in such a space, but rather lets the mind wander over these grasses and hills, taking in the soothing greens, the dark trees and their shadows, and that promising golden horizon. The artist rightly calls these paintings, “mindscapes” because they are his imagination’s interpretations of the environment sent back to the world in a poetically painted remix. It was French Impressionist, Edgar Degas, who responded to the plein air painters of his day by saying, “A painting is above all the product of the artist’s imagination,” and that “A painting needs a little mystery, some vagueness, and some fantasy.” All of that applies to Richard Mayhew’s art.

Spring Series #1 Richard Mayhew, 1997. Hover over image to magnify.

The painting above, Spring Series #1 is bursting with life. The colors are bold and vibrant. Shades of different colors burst out in wavy forms. They are blurred by the speed with which they are growing. Bright yellow against deep greens, feathery light blue stokes against an inky blue-black roerschach image of trees, then more bright yellow. Yet, this less is solid as it melts into the pale pink touches of the atmosphere. The painting takes the viewer into the creative energy that bursts forth from the land when the growing season starts. Winter is over, and Spring is here to produce all kinds of new living things.

Richard Mayhew took on the landscape and made it his primary statement on art, even as the art of 20th century America was turning the world upside down with its abstract expressionism. Mayhew comes from Amityville, Long Island in New York. African-American and Native-American (Cherokee on his mother’s side and Shinnacock on his father’s), he took his inspiration from the land around him, which he interpreted with his use of colors and dreamlike shapes to express the emotion of the scene rather than any physical actuality. In fact, Mayhew often starts just putting colors on the canvas, and works those until he finds his painting. Though what he “finds” always relates to memory, dreams, emotions, and imagination based upon what he has seen in the land.

Santa Fe Trail, Richard Mayhew, 1999. Hover over image to magnify.

I spoke above about the attitude overseas toward landscape painting as a modern genre, but the U.S. also provided Mayhew with such obstacles. Not only was abstract expressionism the movement of his time, Black-American artists were always seen in terms of social realism and depictions of Black-American life and history in the United States. So how would a piece like Santa Fe Trail, with its soft red earth and softer red sky fit into the box that had been established for Black artists? These two items, social attitudes really, were to plague Mayhew in the early part of his career, until Spiral.

Spiral was a think tank for Black artists that came out of the 1963 March on Washington. Its founders, Romare Bearden, Hale Woodruff, Norman Lewis, Emma Amos, Felrath Hines, some of whom were from the days of the Harleem Renaissance, sought to tackle the conundrum of whether Black artists should “aspire to be part of the mainstream or was their challenge to honor more directly the stories of African-American life?” (Walker, Transcendence, p.9). Hale Woodruff put it simply as keeping one’s work at the highest quality of development while “conveying a telling quality about what we are as a people.” (p.9). In other words, the high quality was a must but also the expression of authentic diversity within a community.

Mayhew’s landscape paintings and Norman Lewis’ beautiful abstract expressionist work (see “Beyond Black: The Paintings of Norman Lewis…” ofartandwine.com), were definitely expressions of the diversity of thought within the Black arts community. However, such outliers often win against all odds and create sprouts of new and visually exciting things. In the case of Lewis and Mayhew, their paintings sprang up in between the accustomed work like stray flowers growing out of the cracks in the cement.

Concerto by Richard Mayhew, 2000

Mayhew had studied in Europe in the early 60s with both a Ford and a Whitney grant. He became quite a skilled portraitist, but he always returned to landscape. In Concerto, he paints according to the definition of a musical piece in three parts, where a concert orchestra supports the individual work of a single instrument (a violin, piano, cello, or flute). The painting’s two hillsides and the vibrant yellow and violet background are the three parts. The mass of trees and foliage do the heavy lifting of the concert orchestra that lets the ethereal beauty of the violet and gold atmosphere rise like the notes of a solo flute.

Rhapsody by Richard Mayhew, 2002 (Shot in studio Master). Hover over image to magnify.

In a painting like Rhapsody, Mayhew follows in paint the musical format of a rhapsody: spontaneaous inspiration and improvisation with highly contrasted moods, colors, and tonality. The deep, inky, blue-violet stand of trees contrasted against a deep pink sky is a burst of freedom, as though the paint wanted to run away and in the process created the outline of some trees.

As can be seen by the names of his paintings involving music, Mayhew liked to bring in elements from other arts. In his teaching career, he sometimes found himself the outsider in the traditional art department. He was a believer in interdisciplinary studies as an approach to art, which many places did not quite understand. His work with creative consciousness involving all aspects of life was laughable to the strict technical skills disciplinarians at some art schools. He found a more receptive atmosphere at Sonoma State University which enabled him to complete his work in interdisciplinary studies. After receiving his degrees, he went to Penn State where he taught from 1977 to 1991 and created an interdisciplinary program there.

Mayhew’s work was represented in New York City at the Midtown Gallery for 20-30 years before he moved to the ACA Gallery, with which he has had a long and beneficial relationship. He mentions the struggles of his artist friend, Norman Lewis, who was represented by Willard Gallery along with other “mystical” painters. Mayhew says of the relationship, “Like me and my ‘mindscapes,’ Norman’s abstraction was about the uniqueness of self. We just had different sensibilities.” (Transcendence, p. 19).

Atascadero by Richard Mayhew, 2013. Hover over image to magnify.

In Atascadero, a more recent painting made since Mayhew’s move to retire in California, a calm loveliness emanates from the painting. The foreground, a soft yellowish brown, is smooth and undistrubed, no rocks, no patches of grass, just earth. Beyond the boundary of the trees, there is a light green that looks as though some stray ray of sunlight illuminates it, making the viewer want to go there. If one’s imagination walked through the opening in the trees to that patch of light green, there is the promise of a far away vista of blue mountains and limitless sky. This image from the mind of Richard Mayhew is a testament to his life-long connection to the land and his desire to present his authentic vision of it.

This is Richard Mayhew, a 96-year-old artist who still paints and shares his vision of the world through his works. For more on the artist, watch this video. “What Color is Love?” youtube.com. And for a special treat watch this snippet from the celebration of Mayhew’s art held in 2014 at San Francisco’s Museum of the African Diaspora. youtube.com

Images for this post are used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of review, critique and discussion. All works © Richard Mayhew.

Sources for this article are as follows:

“Atascadero. Petrucci Family Foundation” pffcollection.com

“Richard Mayhew Show Awards in the Hamptons” news.artnet.com

Transcendence, Richard Mayhew, with essay by Andrew Walker. Chronicle Books

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle or go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com

Black-American Vintners

Yes, there he is. The man once selected as best young sommelier by the Chaîne des Rotisseur in Paris.

Well, might as well start this discussion off with someone who has made a stellar career in the wine trade. He will tell you in his TED talk, “How to be a Black Sheep” (youtube.com) that his switch in the early 2000s from working in high finance to being a sommelier and winemaker was a giant leap of faith. He wanted to bring the hip-hop energy to winemaking and do it in a unique way. Mack chose not to grow his own grapes, but to purchase various yields from growers then blend them into his signature wines that have names like “Bottoms Up,” “Horsehoes and Handgrenades,” “Love Drunk,” and “Other People’s Pinot Noir.” His brand is Maison Noir, a change from the original name of Mouton Noir (Black Sheep), and if you want to see him go through a variety of wine tastings, each with a different subject and intent, just go to this link for a selection of instructive and fun videos (youtube.com).

However, the first Black-American wine maker in the U.S. was John June Lewis, Sr., who became enamoured of wine making during his stay in France in World War I. He inherited land in Virgina in 1933 and by 1940, he opened Woburn Winery, the first Black-owned winery in the United States (see blackwinemakersstory.com). Though it took some years, Lewis was not to be alone, as New Orleans business woman, Ires Rideau, bought 6 acres in California’s Santa Ynez Valley in 1989 and later expanded to 24 acres to form Rideau Vineyard. She grew Rhone varietals and blended them to complement the Creole style cooking that represented her Black and Creole heritage. Though she is no longer the owner, Rideau Vineyard still exists and specializes in “hand-crafted wines” (rideauvineyard.com).

Wines produced by The Brown Estate. Photo credit to be-paper.brownestate.com

The Napa Valley is the home of The Brown Estate, which is run by three siblings, on land purchased by their parents in 1985. The Brown Estate started by selling grapes to other winemakers, but in 1995 the two sisters and their brother started making wine themselves. By 2002, Wine Spectator did a special article on them and their Zinfandel wine. They continue to produce Zinfandel, Chardonnay, and Merlot.

The entrepreneurship involved sometimes has an international flavor, as in the McBride sisters, who are stationed in Monterey, California and Marlborough, New Zealand. Their Black-owned and woman-owned wine company focuses on sustainability and inclusivity in the wine industry. Their company, Black Girl Magic Wines encourages consumers to support Black-owned vintners. mcbridesisters.com

Woman driving a tractor in the vineyard. Photo credit blackwinemakersstory.com

And to top it all off, Journey Between the Vines: The Black Winemakers’ Story is a documentary that takes one through the story of award-winning Black winemakers, with an eye to disrupting the stereotypes about who can be a successful winemaker. For more on that see youtube.com and documentary.org

The team that produced the documentary. Just above Marvin Glover, director/producer. And the trio of Marcia Jones, writer; Bry Sanders, photography; and Marion Meadows, Composer. blackwinemakersstory.com/the filmmakers

And there is plenty more, such as the Association of African-American Vintners and articles in vinepair.com “Ten African-American Winemakers Everyone Should Know” and in Wine Spectator on the association mentioned above winespectator.com. While the road has been an uphill climb, the future is bright for both the vintners and the consumers.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and     CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Observing the Observed in La Loge, and Women Winemakers.

In the Loge by Mary Cassatt, 1879.

Not unlike Edouard Manet’s Belle Epoque masterpiece Bar at the Folies Bérgére, Mary Cassatt, an American painter in the Impressionist era, took note of what was happening around her when she went out on the town for an evening in Paris. The painting tells quite a story. Cassatt was not the only female impressionists painters, as even one of the artist’s models got to display her paintings at the Salon.

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Frida and Diego: Art, Love, and Watermelons, plus Wines for Valentine’s

Frid Kahlo and Diego Rivera from “8 Photos of Their Colorful Love Story,” Biography.com

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera were art “rock stars” before there was Rock. Frida, first only seen as “the wife of Rivera,” became one of the most famous women painters in history. She was so very artful that her style of dress has become almost as famous as her paintings. Rivera, the most famous of the Mexican muralistas, influenced the painting of artists in the U.S. when he came to paint here in the 1930s. While most of Kahlo’s paintings were small, some being little ex-voto paintings recording her survival of all the physical suffering she endured, Rivera also could do easel painting. Of the most interesting subjects that they both treated were watermelons. Seemingly an “odd” choice, watermelons were the subject of the last painting that each of them did. This calls for a dive into the story of their lives and their work, as well as a look into Mexican culture.

The Kahlo-Rivera Dilemma: Can’t Live With; Can’t Live Without.

My Dress Hangs Here by Frida Kahlo frida-kahlo-foundation.org Hover over image to magnify.

Kahlo spent the early part of her marriage to Rivera simply being “Mrs. Rivera,” as she traveled with her husband from one place where he was painting to another (see “Frida Kahlo: Accidents and Identity” vernellestudio.com). The painting above was done in 1933, as she traveled with Rivera, and shows what must have been a complete cacaphony of images, events, sounds, and culturally overwhelming experiences. Yet, when we look at the images of trash piles, burning edifaces, skyscrapers, smokestacks, and the woman in the red dress, front and center is Kahlo’s signature Tejuana shirt and huipil top. She made herself stand out as a way of confronting being an outsider. Notably she hangs the dress on a purple ribbon that is tied to a toilet on one side and a trophy on the other. Perhaps this is how she saw her function as wife to Rivera, an arm- candy trophy on one hand (she was very well educated, beautiful, and stunningly perceptive) and on the other hand, a maid/cleaning lady, hence the toilet. However, she kept painting and ultimately was recognized as an accomplished and fearless painter in her own right. One of her most commonly used subjects was herself in self-portraits that represented her emotional life.

Frida_Kahlo_(self_portrait)
Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird, 1940; Self-Portrait as a Tejuana, 1943; Broken Column, 1944

Kahlo summed up her life by saying, “There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolly. The other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.” Having suffered from polio as a child, at 18 she was involved in a trolley accident which injured her body so terribly, she was bedridden for months and suffered numerous operations thereafter. She began to paint at that time, and her subject was herself (see the reference articles below for her biographical details). As her own career developed, in the late 1930s she was called a surrealist. Kahlo famously said that she became a surrealist when André Breton came from France to Mexico to tell her that was what she was. In her mind, she just painted reality, physical and emotional.

As Kahlo began to become at least known, Rivera was riding high, painting murals in the U.S. such as the Detroit Industrial Murals, 27 panels showing industry. Painted for Ford Motor Company and now in the Detroit Institute of Art, they were deemed a National Historic Landmark in 2014. His most infamous painting for industry came in 1933 when he painted Man At The Crossroads for the Rockefeller Center in New York City. The Rockefellers approved of his idea of contrasting capitalism with communism, but when the press began to criticize, Rivera replied by adding in a May Day Parade for International Workers’ Day and a portrait of Lenin. Nelson Rockefeller asked for the Lenin portrait to be taken out; Rivera, a life-long communist, refused, so Rockfeller had the work plastered over. Rivera took photos before that was done so that he might recreate a smaller version now on display in Mexico’s Palacio de Bellas Artes. Of course, one of his greatest works is the Dream of Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Park in the Museo Mural in Mexico City (see the previous post for more on that work).

While Rivera was painting massive panels on epic subjects, he was also having affairs, including one with Frida’s sister. Frida responded with affairs of her own. Such things led to the break-up of the marriage in 1939. However, in 1940, the Frida-Diego relationship reunited in a second marriage, but with certain rules, including no sex between the two of them. Diego was free to have his dalliances and Frida went on to a 10-year relationship with photographer Nickolas Muray. The couple lived in two different houses, though Frida sometimes would reside with Diego. Most of the time she stayed in her family home, La Casa Azul, in the Coyoacan neighborhood of Mexico City. The relationship remained tumultuous, yet the couple was very much moored to one another.

Frida suffered more from the bad health brought on by that accident in her youth, losing her right foot and then her right leg up to the knee in the last years before her death. Her solo exhibition in Mexico City came at a time (1954) when the only way she could attend was to be bedridden, but yes, she was there in bed in the gallery, greeting guests while lying on her back. She died that same year from either a pulmonary embollism or from an overdose of medication, whether accidental or intentional, it is not known. Diego died three years later and left instructions that all of Frida’s possessions should be locked in unused rooms in La Casa Azul for 50 years.

And now the watermelons

Viva la Vida (Long Live Life) by Frida Kahlo, 1954. Hover over image to magnify.

It is easy to pass by the painting of watermelons painted by Frida, called Viva La Vida (Long Life Live), and wonder what the fascination with this fruit was. Certainly it is common in Mexico, and the main ingredient in a refreshing drink called Agua de sandía (here’s a link to a recipe for that wonderful drink foodnetwork.com.) We can all imagine a hot day where one of the great pleasures of life is taking a bite of a chilled slice of sweet watermelon. In the Mexican folklore tradition of the Day of the Dead, the skeletons dressed in clothing are often seen eating and drinking. One of the favorite images is of a skeleton eating a slice of watermelon. Perhaps there is no better image for taking a bite out of life, than a big bite of that juicy melon. The whole idea of the Day of the Dead (El dia de los muertos) is not just to remember the family and friends who have passed away, but also to look at the living and our habits, poke fun of them, and understand the irony of life, which is that none of us survive it.

Frida made this painting just 8 days before her death. It seems a grand gesture of her acknowledgement that life, while vibrant and delicious, is also impermanent like this fruit, which is fresh for a while then rots away. This painting with the title that celebrates life, uses the fruit eaten by the specters of the calaveras and catrines (skulls and dressed skeletons) that come out dancing on the Day of the Dead to remind us that they are us and we are them. Considering her own death, Frida said, “I hope the exit is joyful, and I hope never to return.” Her last visual statement was the painting of the watermelons.

The Watermelons by Diego Rivera 1957 diegorivera.org Hover over image to magnify.

Three years later it was Diego’s turn. He had suffered a stroke and was deprived of the use of his right arm. He had been devastated by Frida’s death, but remarried and struggled to paint. Here in a sort of subliminal echo of Frida, his last painting, too, was of watermelons. His watermelons have a life-like texture created by his mixing of sand into his oil paint. The one on the lower right is partially eaten. On the left are ones that seem to have a bit scooped out at the end. Given the difficulty he experienced trying to paint, since “the brush no longer obeyed him” (diegorivera.org), one can only imagine the diligence with which he worked on this last expression, one to match that of Frida’s. Star-crossed, as in the best of Shakespeare’s tragedies, their last communication may have been in the form of these watermelons, a traditional Mexican symbol for life and the thereafter.

One final note: While Rivera is the foremost of the great muralistas, having left a formidable body of grand works, and a name that tops the list of famous Mexican painters, Frida has left some astonishing art objects herself. Once her possessions were unlocked after those 50 years, conservators were able to assemble much of her wardrobe and put it on display. There was a traveling show that left Mexico for the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, with an ancillary exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum. Her clothing choices, taken from traditional Mexican dress from the region of Tejuantepec, accented by her exception jewelry and hair ornaments have become an art treasure themselves.

Frida Kahlo’s dresses on display in Mexico City. lisawallerrogers.file.wordpress.com Hover over image to magnify.

Along with the clothing that was so coloful and unique, which she used to express her identity, as well as to cover her many braces and her damaged right leg, is her family home, La Casa Azul, which is now the Frida Kahlo Museum. The rambling house was the creation of her father, a photographer from Germany. However, after his death and when Frida and Diego remarried in 1940, the couple moved in, together for a while, and painted the house cobalt blue, as well as creating a garden which they filled with pre-Columbian art. Though Rivera would create his own home in a different location, he would return to La Casa Azul from time-to-time, just as Frida visited him in his new home. The house now contains the memorabilia of her life there, paintings by both Kahlo and Rivera, photographs and furnishings. It is one of the most visited museums in Mexico City.

La Casa Azul, Frida Kahlo’s home in Mexico City, now a museum. architecturaldigest.com Hover over image to magnify.

Articles used for this post are as follows and images are used in accordance with Fair Use Policy and linked to the appropriate websites:

“Diego and Frida: A Smile in the Middle of the Way” International Photography Hall of Fame, iphf.org

“Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera: Portrait of a Complex Marriage” by Kelly Grovier, bbc.com

“The Last Painting of Diego Rivera,” jungcurrents.com

“Unlocking the Hidden Life of Frida Kahlo,” by Lindsay Baker, bbc.com

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wines for Valentine’s: Gifts to Make it Sparkle.

Pink Champagne for Valentine’s Photo from pixabay.com

So the big day of romance is coming. Yes, Valentine’s Day is on its way, and there are things you can do to make it extra special. One can always go the easy route and just get a bottle of your special person’s favorite wine. If you add some flowers, even one red rose, you get a Pass Without Honors. However, we all know that a passing grade is just one step up from failing, so let’s look beyond that, shall we?

WINE AND CHOCOLATE

Wine and Chocolate Photo credit to WineSpectator.com

Not unlike Frida and Diego, wine and chocolate can be difficult. While there are sommeliers who simply will not go there, as red wine and chocolate can turn into the Battle of the Tannins, leaving your taste buds exhausted as each tannin-filled bite or sip tries to cancel out the other, it is still possible to make this combination work. Wine Spectator gives the ABCs of how to pair these two (click link above). The main advice is to pair like with like. So if you have a chocolate with a taste of berries to it, pair it with a wine that also has those fruity notes. They go on to list dessert wines that pair well with chocolate. Those of you who follow OfArtandWine already know of Vin Santo, a wine made from trebbiano grapes that are dried on straw or cane mats for four months before fermentation and aging (ofartandwine.com). Vin Santo goes well with chocolates because of its notes of honey and caramel that coordinate well with the sweet of the chocolate.

Estelle Tracy in her article “Five Myths About Pairing Wine and Chocolate” (37chocolates.com) takes on the most common assumptions, like red wine and chocolate are a natural pairing, and its opposite, never pair red wine and dark chocolate. She gives sound advice. Needless to say with all the varieties of red wines and chocolates, there are bound to be some disastrous mismatches. If you really are going to get into chocolates to spice up the wine you give your honey, for sure take a look at this amusing video by Madeline Puckette of Wine Folly. She not only “goes there,” but she returns with valuable information you can use. See “Wine and Chocolate” youtube.com

COME FLY WITH ME…

A Flght of Wine cozymeal.com

If you are planning a Grade A evening, with dinner at a special restaurant, make sure to see if they offer flights of wine. A flight of wine is a group of 3-4 different wines that may focus on a certain theme that matches well with the food. If you arrange this, do find out which wines are to be served and find out a bit more about them. The information is good to know and will certainly impress your special date. Restaurants serving flights of wine are not as rare as it might seem, as P.F. Chang’s, for instance, in their quest to develop their wine list, has served flights of wine designed to go with Chinese food. If that sounds interesting, call your local P.F. Chang’s to see if it does this. Or you can be brave and set up your own wine flight to go with that luxurious meal you are going to prepare. For a great guide to the possible combinations, look at the cozymeal.com website or go to winefolly.com, which has “12 Wine Flight Ideas for Beginners.” You will see that you can focus on the varieties of one type of wine, say Chardonnay, or you can compare Old World and New World versions of the same wine, or compare champagne to prosecco. There are lots of manageable possibilities that allow you to create a fun wine flight tasting.

LIVING IN A VIRTUAL WORLD

A Wine Tasting freepik.com

Now, here is one that can be done in a variety of ways. Yes, you can go to your local wine merchant, select the wines and get the information on each, prepare the meal, and have friends over to celebrate the day. However, and sadly it is a bit too late for this particular special day, you can have virtual wine tastings, where you order the wines in advance and schedule a Zoom session with a sommelier to guide you through the tasting. Never say that the Pandemic was an ill wind that blew no one any good. It has spawned a whole new industry of distance learning for all kinds of subjects, including wine.

One of the companies that has a wide selection of items is InGoodTaste.com, which offers gifts of wine flights, as well as Curated Collections. The Curated Wine Tasting Flights present 6-8 single serving glasses of wine with the appropriate information to guide you through your tasting. However, you also have the possibility of booking a virtual wine tasting in which the wine is ordered several weeks in advance and a Zoom session is scheduled. From there you have only to gather your friends or whomever you wish to share the tasting with, have the wines ready to be tasted and Zoom at the appropriate time. This is definitely something to check out (ingoodtaste.com) .

The Girl with the Wine Glass, Johannes Vermeer, 1659-1660.

Sometimes it takes a doctor to get to the heart of a matter. In the case of the effect that the smell of certain wines can have, Dr. Max Lake, a surgeon and winemaker from Australia, found that the scent of some wines mimic the smell of human pheromones. Red wines with their earthy sometimes leathery, musky smell are very like male pheromones, while white wines and sparkling wines, which have yeasty, doughy scents, are reminiscent of female pheromones. The good doctor says, “[t]he mature Cabernet Sauvignon has an essence which is as close to this natural sexual turn-on as one could hope for” (see “Seduction and Vermeer’s Girl with a Wine Glass” on ofartandwine.com). So do take that into consideration as you celebrate this holiday for lovers.

Whichever of these ways you use to celebrate Valentine’s, whether a simple present of wine, a fancy dinner with wine, experiencing a flight of wine, or a wine flight tasting, drink responsibly, and thoroughly enjoy the holiday.

Grosses bises (as the French say, “big kisses”) from Of Art and Wine and Happy Valentine’s Day!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

COMING SOON: Richard Mayhew: Painted Love Poems For The Earth, plus Black-American Vintners.

Shot in studio Master of Rhapsody by Richard Mayhew

Richard Mayhew, who is Black and Native-American, is a painter of landscapes with colors that sing poetic songs of his love for the land, its colors, its shapes, its shadows. His struggles to get the art world to understand his lyrical, abstracted landscapes have been epic, but finally his message has been received well. Mayhew’s struggles have not been unlike those of Black-American vintners, yet they also have their success stories. Come find out about both.

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“The Three Great Ones” Mexican Muralistas and Wine in Baja.

Maya civilization, Mexico, 9th century A.D. Reconstruction of Bonampak frescoes. Room 1 Procession of Musicians. Hover over image to magnify.

When Diego Rivera first saw these murals, he wept. The archeological discovery of Bonampak’s murals (of course, the local Lacondones always knew of them) was a wonderful find for Mexican and Mesoamerican history. The Temple of the Murals, done c. 790 A.D. for King Chan Muan to celebrate a military victory and show off his lineage of sons (all three shown dancing) was the missing link which proved what 20th century muralists, Rivera and Orozco, had been claiming. Mural painting was a native Mexican tradition of which they, the modern muralistas, were just the continuation.

The 20th century in Mexico began with revolution. One hundred years exactly after Father Hidalgo gave the Grito de Dolores to rally people to rebel against Spanish rule, Mexico once again reshaped itself. After ten years of upheaval, General Alvaro Obregón restored order, became president, and began to reunite the country. Part of his effort to do this involved creating a new identity for the Mexican people, one where their long history, culture, and values were shown and respected. To do this he called upon the great painters (in fact, Rivera was called to come back from Europe) to paint great murals to communicate to the populace the achievements of the revolution and call upon them to contemplate those achievements as well. These painters, known now as “Los tres grandes” (The Three Great Ones), were Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siquieros. These artists created a movement that not only shaped art in Mexico but also had a powerful influence in the U.S.

The Revolution, a detail, David Alfaro Siquieros, painted in Chapultepec Castle, Mexico City. Hover over image to magnify.

David Alfaro Siquieros (1896-1974), though raised by his conservative grandparents, was someone who supported the ordinary working man, even when it caused him to be imprisoned for severe criticism of the Mexican government (1960-64). Though he was originally a friend of Diego Rivera, he broke off with the other artist, accusing him of being a sell-out, since Rivera became very famous painting murals in the U.S. for wealthy industrialists.

Siquieros was someone known to be an ideological absolutist, though at one point he was kicked out of the Communist Party. However, in later years (1967) he would win the Lenin-Stalin Peace Prize. His focus in painting was the use of the whole body when painting, as though painting were a sacred dance. This influenced Jackson Pollack, who became famous for his abstract expressionist drip paintings, which he worked upon while very physically moving about the painting.

David Alfaro Siquieros’ mural at UNAM, the National Autonomous University of Mexico. Hover over image to magnify.

In the piece above, one sees the grandness and force of Siquieros’ work. In this piece called La universidad al pueblo; el pueblo a la universidad (The University to the people; The People to the University), the forceful expression of those straight arms pointing forward with book and pens in hand gives one a good sense about the fierce determination of the artist to communicate the value of education to all who see this work.

Prometheus by josé Clemente Orozco, 1930 Pomona College, California. Hover over image to magnify.

José Clemente Orozco (1883-1949) came from a family that lived on the edge of poverty before the Mexican Revolution. As a teen, he was inspired by seeing a political cartoonist at work and became interesting in how art could communicate big ideas. He became a painter of caricatures, though he also painted pictures showing the misery of the life around him. It was a hard-scrabble life with little attention paid to his talent. Unfortunately, life was made even harder when in 1904 to celebrate Mexican Independence Day, a fireworks mixture exploded damaging his left hand. The lack of immedidate medical attention left amputation as the only solution to save his life from the effects of gangrene.

For a short while in the early 1920s, he painted murals as part of the literacy campaign to help the Mexican people understand the effects of the revolution they had been through. However, he ultimately decided to go to the U.S. where he painted murals in Pomona College and the 24 panel piece called The Epic of American Civilization for Dartmouth College. Through his efforts in the U.S., he was able to return to Mexico in 1934 as a well-established artist.

Once in Mexico again, he created The People and Its Leaders for the Government Palace in Guadalajara, in his native state of Jalisco. His masterpiece would have to be the frescoes inside Guadalajara’s Hospicio Cabañas, which focus on the history of Mexico from pre-Columbian times through the Revolution.

That work is known as “The Sistene Chapel of the Americas” and the Hospicio is itself a UNESCO World Heritage Site. He was a driving force in reviving fresco painting, claiming as did Diego Rivera that mural painting was a native art form in Mexican culture.

Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Almeda Park by Diego Rivera in the Museo Mural in Mexico City diegorivera.org Hover over image to magnify.

The name Diego Rivera (1886-1957) is as momumental as the man was in physical size. Over six feet tall and weighing several hundreds of pounds, he was a towering figure, who saw in the mural painting of the Italian Renaissance, a period known for its gigantic frescoes, a tool that he could use to express his ideas on Mexican history in a format that he also felt was something native to Mexican culture. Having studied in Europe where he got to know many of the most famous painters of the 20th century, he returned to Mexico at the behest of the Mexican government to paint murals that helped redefine Mexican identity.

Rivera went to the U.S. in the 1930s where he had great success painting gigantic, epic paintings. Since the 1930s was a period in the U.S. when there were many public works sponsored by the government, Rivera’s work influenced many American painters. His own works appear in a number of cities, including inside the San Francisco Art Institute in the Diego Rivera Gallery. His commercial success prompted a falling-out with his friend and fellow muralista Siquieros, who felt Rivera had put his art in service to the bourgeoisie.

Photo credit ordovasart.com

Detail of Dream of a Sunday Afternoonin the Almeda Park by Diego Rivera, 1947. artsandculture.google.com click link to see expanded picture.

This painting has a fascinating history not just because it gives Rivera’s idea on the panorama of Mexican history, but because the physical painting itself has had an interesting journey. I was fortunate enough in the 1970s to see this painting in its original location, the Hotel del Prado, which is near the Alameda Park in Mexico City. It is 52 feet long, as you can see at diegorivera.org, and it is overwhelming, as befits such an intense combination of characters representing a turbulent history. And yes, it was in a hotel. However, not unlike Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, which graced a dining hall in a monastery, when both buildings were destroyed (WWII bombs for the monastery and the 1985 earthquake for the hotel), the last things standing were the two paintings. The Universe obviously appreciates art. The mural is now in the Museo Mural, which is next to the Alameda, the park where Rivera’s panorama of characters representing Mexico and its culture haunt the spirit of the place.

Photo of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera Photo Credit biography.com

While we normally think of movie stars as having legendary, tempetuous love lives, these two artists stand toe-to-toe with Taylor and Burton when it comes to drama, private and public. Their relationship, in which they finally wound up living in two separate houses that were joined (in Puerto Vallarta, Taylor and Burton had two houses joined by a bridge), will be the subject of the next post on Of Art and Wine that will look at how they each handled a very special painting subject. For now, it can be said that along with his fellow muralistas, Rivera revived the painting of frescoes in modern architecture. Rivera in particular is also famous for using modern figures and imagery to express Mexican history and cultural identity, and perhaps he was right when he claimed that mural painting is an art native to Mexico.

A Copy of the Murals of the royals of Bonampak from the Temple of the Murals by artist Elelicht commons.wikimedia.org

So we return to those murals in Bonampak. King Chan Muan’s celebration of his lineage on the finely painted walls of The Temple of Murals did not secure its continued existence. By 820 A.D., just 30 years after this great show of power and ostentation, Bonampak, along with the rest of the Classical Maya sites were abandoned to the forest. However, his temple murals with walls that often sparkle with the subtle blue of azurite from far-off Arizona passed the torch from Mexico’s distant past to its modern manifestation of mural painting.

Images are either in public domain or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of critique, review, and discussion.

Sources for this article:

“José Clemente Orozco,” biography.com

“Jose Clemente Orozco,” artnet.com

“Diego Rivera, his Life and Art,” diegorivera.org

“Diego Rivera,” biography.com

“David Alfaro Siquieros” theartstory.org

“David Alfaro Siquieros,” famouspainters.net

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine in Baja California

Glass of wine in vineyard Valle de Guadalupe unsplash.com

It was Juan de Grijalva, one of Hernán Cortez’s men, who first lifted a glass of wine with some of Montezuma’s emissaries, and thus Mexico’s on again, off again relationship with wine began. If you have read the Of Art and Wine piece “Bonampak’s Temple of the Murals and Mayan Drinks” ofartandwine, then you know that the Maya had their own wonderful drinks made of fragrant hibiscus and other tropical ingredients. In fact, grapes did grow in pre-Columbian Mexico, but they seem to have been strongly acidic, though the juice was combined with honey and fruits to create something tolerable to the taste.

In this 18th century version of a painting done in the 1500s, one sees the stern stuff that this infamous conquistador was made of. As wine was a part of Spanish culture, it traveled on the ships that came to the New World. Along with the conquistadores came the different Catholic religious orders, among them the Franciscans and Dominicans, who of course used wine for sacramental purposes, but also to make money.

At first the cultivation of grapes and making of wine was something encouraged by King Charles I, as the new Spanish arrivees found it necessary and economical to grow their own grapes and make wine. Cortez, himself, commanded that thousands of acres of vineyards be created. The planting of the vineyards served to turn the dry desert landscape into useable land. There was even the creation of a variety of grape called, liked the Spanish who were born in the New World rather than in Spain, Creole (criollo). However, that was not to last, as by the time of King Charles II, Spain feared that the production of the New World vineyards would undercut the prices of the wines made in Spain. Cultivation of the grape was forbidden, except for strictly religious ceremonial needs.

Mexico’s environment of which much is below the 30th degree parallel is not well suited to the growing of grapes. However, around 1843, Dominican monks found this wonderful place in the Baja Peninsula, which like the lands of Alta California (the California in the U.S.), had a climate that favored wine grapes. Its altitude, the evening fog and cool breezes from the Pacific, and the warm sunny days are as effective in La Baja as they are in La Alta when it comes to growing grapes.

Vineyards in Baja California barrons.com

The endeavor started well, but the grape vines were attacked by phylloxera, a fungus that nearly wiped out vineyards in Europe in the late 1800s. This was followed by the Mexican Revolution, which was 10 years of upheaval and instability. The industry tried to struggle back into existence in the 1920s, but the lack of wine-making knowledge and proper equipment created wines that were yellow, acidic, and not particularly appealing. It was not until the 1970s when Pedro Domecq, a maker of some of the very finest brandy, revived high-end wine from the Valle de Guadalupe.

These days, along with its booming brandy production (Mexico’s Emperador is the world’s largest company producing brandy), the country produces wines of better and better quality. Mostly blends of various grapes from Europe, these wines are beginning to make their mark in the world of wine. Gardiner Navarro in his article, “Mexican Wine is Getting More Popular – And a Lot Better” (barrons.com) states, “In Mexico’s west coast, Valle de Guadalupe (or Valle, as locals call it) has recently emerged as one of the most exciting up-and-coming wine destinations.” Its close proximity to San Diego, only a 2-hour trip, has caused a small wine tourist industry to spring up. There are day trips that leave the wonderful, colorful San Diego Train Station at 9:00 am and return the visitors there by 8:00 pm. the same day (sandiegowineytours.com). However, there are tours for those who want to spend a couple of days in this peaceful valley. Baja Wine Tours offers private and public tours of varying lengths, again from San Diego. Consult their website for some wonderfully enticing photos of the Valle de Guadalupe and its offerings, including glorious food.(bajawinerytours.com).

A Seafood Platter that goes great with wine.

In speaking about food and wines, Baja produces some very nice Chardonnay. It also produces Temperanillo, which goes so very well with the earthy flavor of tamales. This brings up the topic of food pairings of Mexican food and wines from any of the wine growing regions of the world. One might normally think of a cold beer or a frosty, salty margarita to go with Mexican food. However, enchiladas go very nicely with Riesling; carnitas with Pinot Noir; Pinot Gris with chicken tacos; sparkling wines with cerviche, and Syrah with mole. While Baja may not produce all of those wines – yet, it certainly is coming up in the world of wine. Keep your eye on the Mexican wine industry.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2022

Coming Soon: Frida and Diego: Art, Love, and Watermelons, plus Wines for Valentine’s.

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera uwm.edu

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera were rock stars before Rock. Kahlo, first seen as just “the wife of Rivera” turned out to be one of the most notable female artists in history. Rivera, famous for his grand murals and their influence on painting among artists in the U.S., was the great love and bain of Kahlo’s existence. Star-crossed, perhaps, their final communication to one another was in the form of paintings of watermelons. And for the rest of us lovers, some suggestions for wine to serve or give on Valentine’s.

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The Chill Cool of Canadian Painting, and Wine Bars in Toronto.

I remember when I first returned for a long stay (3 months) in Canada after living for eight years in Provence, where yes the chilly Mistral blows, and there is sometimes even snow. However, in Toronto it was May, the merry month, so I went down to Kew Beach on Lake Ontario. A cap on my head, several layers of sweaters, jeans, socks and closed-in shoes, I sat on a bench in the sun. Supposedly, it was 70 degrees. As I shivered, I noticed the Canadians walking down the boardwalk in shorts, T-shirts, sleeveless garments, bare arms taking in the sun. There was even a lady on the beach in a bikini! Just when I thought there must indeed be something wrong with me, I noticed that none of the trees had leaves yet. The buds of the leaves were tightly wrapped shut, still fearful to open up. I sent a photo back to friends in France, saying, “The limbs of the trees and the limbs of the people are all bare. Qu’est que ça veux dire?” To me, it indicated that Canadians have a special relationship with the cold. I began to observe how that plays itself out in their painting.

Ayesha by Valerie Palmer, 201 4. Loch Gallery

Not many artists do landscape painting and figurative painting, but Valerie Palmer excels at combining both. The Toronto-born artist got her B.F.A. degree in Winnipeg, then moved to the far northern shore of Lake Superior, where she lives and paints. Tom Smart in his essay on her work,”Valerie Palmer: Portraits, Memories and Landscapes,” speaks of the passive poses and disengaged contemplation of her figures as part of what he calls here “mood poems.” In fact he says, “Palmer is a visual poet whose form is the painted emblem.”

What I see is the dissonance caused by this calm figure in a summer dress, standing before this partially frozen landscape. It fits into what artist and author John Seed calls “distupted realism,” in which elements not normally thought of as being together can be together, because in the universe everything is connected. Here these two strongly different elements are collaged by the movement of color from the icey blue of the lake, to the paler green waters near the shore, to the sandy tan of the beach, the deep green of the trees, and the soft reds of the dress – cold to warm.

Most importantly for me, the fine drawing of the figure is very crisp not unlike the way Botticelli did his figures, where the line is very important, moreso than the shading. The ice behind the figure is very precisely drawn, showing the sharp broken edges, edges that can cut. The distracted gaze of the young woman and the frigid background, both so precisely rendered, make one feel the cold emanating from the painting, while at the same time giving us a flush of warmth in the figure of Ayesha.

Journey by Valerie Palmer, 2004 Loch Gallery

Here in another of Palmer’s paintings, we find the same dislocation of elements. These young people who wait for the train (which oddly looks more like a freight train than a passenger one) are dressed in indoor clothes. The young woman, although surrounded by snow, sits on a bench without any trace of snow on it. Her pose is upright and rigid, as is that of the young man who stands before the viewer with his arms folded. The two characters share the same physical space but do not seem to be connected, as both stare into the middle distance of their own private worlds. They chill. We viewers do too, as the cold leaves the confines of the painting to invade the atmosphere around us. This is what I mean by the chill cool of Canadian painting. Yes, it leaves us physically feeling the cool, but its disruption of our normal sense of reality also leaves us with an intellectually “cool” painting, very modern and very with it.

Still Life with Porcelain, Klaas Hart, 2006 Loch Gallery.

Klaas Hart is another Toronto native, who studied at the Ontario College of Art and Design (OCAD), went on to an apprenticeship with renowned artist Hank Helmantel in the Netherlands, where he refined his painting technique. In looking at the painting above, one sees very precisely rendered items done in cool blues, silvery gray, and off-white with a simple bluish-gray backpanel and a putty-colored foreground surface. The artist picks up the putty color in the trim around the envelops, in the interior coloring of the sea shell and on the stand for the blue dish. Even the glass funnel changes the color of the supporting surface to a grayish-blue.

The feeling of the painting is very modern and a bit hard-edged, but at the same time is softened by the nostalgia represented by the old-fashioned envelops, the decorative sea shell, and the plain, rather classic design of the dishes. This odd collection of items, hard to see all together as one theme, is called simply Still Life with Porcelain. Yet, while the artist may have just gathered a random selection of items, most of which were porcelain, this variety of items hint at all sorts of things other than porcelain. Perhaps they represent something more metaphysical, like all time and no time. That in itself would relate to concepts in modern physics, in which travel at the speed of light (still impossible for us) would create the View from C (C as in C²) where infinite instances of time exist all occuring at once (The Fabric of Reality, David Deutsch). That makes this a cool painting in terms of its colors and also in terms of its cool ideas.

Klaas Hart Garlic Painting Chardin’s Plums Claesz’ Roemer with Lemons

If we just stick to the use of the color palette, we can see how it compares with some famous still life paintings. The objects in Hart’s Garlic Painting are all in whitish gray, or silver against a deep blue-gray background. The support they sit on is once again a combination of a light putty and an indistinct tone of brown. When compared to the older paintings of masters like Chardin or Claesz, the precision in rendering is there, but it is Hart’s work which exists in a sharp, cool clarity rather than the warmer more natural colors in the other two paintings.

Fire Down On The Labrador by David Blackwood, 1980 etching and aquatint on paper. Art Gallery of Ontario ago.ca

Let’s not think that Canadian artists have no sense of humor, ironic though it may be at times. Take a look at the painting above. The icebergs are as perfect as nature can make them. They really are ice sculptures that tower above the water, while skillfully hiding 10 times that height underneath the waves. The night is black, and the moon, so tiny and far away, is full but sheds little light. The light comes from the burning ship. The masts indicate that it is most probably a whaler. We see the lifeboat with the crew adrift in the blackness of the artic waters. The scene is a desparate one.

Blackwood then takes us below those waves to see that what was terrible for the whalers was a stroke of good fortune for the whale, whose baleine plate shows as a type of wicked smile. It’s no wonder his book of prints is called Black Ice. As a Newfoundlander, Blackwood would know that the most treacherous ice is the black kind that blends with the color of the road or sidewalk, so you don’t know it is there until you go skidding in all directions. His work often shows the slippery sudden surprises in life.

Blackwood is a storyteller at heart, using the medium of printmaking to tell the seafaring stories of his native Newfoundland. His stories are of the people but also of the animals. Often, as in the print above, when the animals and the people collide, the people don’t always win. Fire Down on the Labrador is a cold painting for sure (will you ever forget the sharp crystalline blue-violet of those craggy icebergs?), but in his use of irony, the artist is not cold hearted.

It would not be truly Canadian to leave out Patrick Amiot’s ceramic sculpture, Hip Check. Amiot is one of Canada’s most famous sculptors. He takes inspiration from daily life and all things common to it: cars, farmers, fishermen, street scenes, old trucks, interiors, and hockey, of course. The rough surface of the base of the piece looks very much like ice that has been skated on. The joyful grimace on the face of the player who has managed to check an opponent almost makes you hear the fans roar. Fun and iconic, it’s a Canadian thing and once again, way cool.

Loch Gallery

I admit to being a proud graduate of Canada’s leading, and one of the world’s finest institutions of higher learning, the University of Toronto. I remember those Canadian winters of my youth and the chill in some of those May days of my more recent visits. I find that Canadian painters go for precision and perfection in their work that often allows a cool breeze of crystalline clarity to float off their paintings and into the minds of the viewer. Vive Canada!

The art presented in this article is used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for the purposes of critique, review and discussion. For more on the artists, visit these websites: Valerie Palmer Klass Hart and David Blackwood.

Sources include:

The Best of Canadian Contemporaries, catalog Loch Gallery

Black Ice: David Blackwood’s Prints of Newfoundland. ago.ca

“David Blackwood 81 Artworks” artsy.net

“Portraits, Memories and Landscapes,” an essay by Tom Smart printed in the show catalog Valerie Palmer Paintings, Loch Gallery, Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine Bars in Toronto!

Sommelier pours pinot gris wine in glasses for degustation

First, what are wine bars? Basically they are a type of “pub” that focuses on wine rather than spirits or beer. Wine bars are the perfect set-up for both enjoying a selection of wines but also learning about them. One of the joys of wine tasting is a real degustation, that French word that prepares you to taste something special. Notice here the classic long-stemmed wine glass that allows you to hold the glass by the stem, so as not to have your hand warming the wine. The amount in the glass is just a touch across the bottom of the glass. Remember, you are tasting, not having a glass with a full meal. The long mellow dark brown of the bar itself is a classic reminder of winecellars and barrels of flavorful wines fermenting and aging on their way to the moment when we have the pleasure of tasting them. Food that compliments the wine is available, but the focus is always on the wine, served, of course, in the appropriate glass. To get a good understanding of all that makes a good wine bar, “Qualities of a Great Wine Bar” is the article to ground oneself with (pinstackbowl.com). Since the focus of this blog post is Canada, and my old hometown (if only temporarily), Toronto, let’s see a few of what the city has to offer.

A series of Flights of Wine. A Flight allows you to taste three different wines.

Toronto is a city of neighborhoods and areas that have certain specialties. The Financial District’s specialty is keeping Toronto as the economic engine of Canada, and being that, one would expect that any wine bar there would be exclusive and very expensive. Au contraire mes chers amis. Reds Wine Tavern, located in First Canadian Place (still Toronto’s tallest building), does cater to the high-powered suits (the TV show was filmed down the street at Adelaide Place). The prices are still manageable, especially around 4:00 o’clock when select bottles are available for favorable prices. There are butcher boards of charcuterie and cheese or you can go for a full meal, with nothing topping $40. The wine cellar has 350 bottles, and there is a sommelier at your service. (Reds Wine Tavern) Please note, that Toronto has on-and-off closures of restaurants for indoor dining because of COVID restrictions.

If you want some consistency as you tour the city, then Cibo Wine Bar is for you. With three locations (King St. West, Yonge Street in Midtown, and Yorkville) you can take advantage of a variety of decor, from high tech stainless, to exposed brick walls and butcher block wooden tables. Each specializes in Italian foods to go with the wines. Trendy Yorkville has many outdoor patios that allow for good people-watching, and Cibo’s fits right in with its own patio, a complement to its industrial style interior. Most important is the collection of 2500 bottles of wine. Cibo Wine Bar

As was mentioned before, Toronto is a city of neighborhoods, and one of the ones that has been trending is Leslieville. To the east of the downtown core, just beyond Riverdale, Leslieville is a locality of small shops, galleries, and restaurants that leave the “suited” atmosphere of downtown behind, in favor of a casual, relaxed, “being at home” feeling of a lovely neighborhood. Chez Nous is listed as being near Leslieville, though from the map it looks to me like Riverdale. However, as the two neighborhoods lie cheek-by-jowl, the main thing is that it is a cozy wine bar that specializes in Canadian wines. Yes, there is a wine industry in Canada. The snacks are simple but the owner, Laura Carr, knows the wines well, as she has visited all of those Ontario wineries. To get a bit of the Chez Nous experience, look at this little video on youtube.com.

If you want a different sort of neighborhood, head west out along Queen Street West, where you can find La Flaca, a Spanish themed wine bar serving tapas lafalca.ca. Moving on toward the direction of High Park ones finds Clandestino Wine Bar. It is indeed a bit hidden inside another location, the Common People Shop. However, it is considered a hidden jewel Clandestino Wine Bar.

Bar Mercurio, near the University of Toronto at 270 Bloor Street West

Of course, I am partial to things close to my alma mater, and Bar Mercurio is a favorite of mine. Though it is ostensibly just a bar, the food is delicious, and there is a good selection of wine to go with. And if you believe as writer and local expert, Courtney Sunday, does “that the only meal without wine is breakfast,” you can cross the street and a few steps further down to 321 Bloor West to L’Espresso Bar Mercurio, which serves wonderful coffee and fabulous pastries in a classy Italian environment.

L’Espresso Bar Mercurio comes with food and lots of Italian atmosphere. Photo credits to customers: Chelsea S. Sylvia Maria D. and Angela S. fr.foursquare.com

Just as there are “8 million stories in the Naked City,” there are many wine bars in Toronto. This post only gives a few of them. However, it is easy to see that whether you are downtown, go east along Queen St., go north along Yonge, or go west toward High Park, there will be a wine bar to suit you.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: “The Three Great Ones” Mexican Muralistas and Wines in Baja.

Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Central by Diego Rivera, 1946

From the Mayan murals of Bonampak to the great 20th century muralistas (Rivera, Siquieros, and Orozco), Mexico expresses itself well in this grand style, and it is not to be left out when it comes to wine production either.

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Happy Holidays from Of Art and Wine!

Of Art and Wine normally posts on the 25th of each month, but this year it is time for a little down time. I do want to thank all of those of you who read the posts that go up on the 10th and the 25th of each month. I enjoy reading your comments and responding to as many as I can. I am looking forward to a great 2022, full of interesting art subjects to present to you and delicious wines to explore, but today, I am enjoying Christmas.

With that I will leave you with a Christmas wish for peace, joy, love, and comfort, all nicely represented in this beautiful painting by Colorado Springs artist, Lee Murphy. It depicts one of the lovely old mansions in a historic part of the city. In the quiet of a deep snowfall on a winter’s night, this house has a warm inner light that says, home. Merry Christmas!

Old North End by Lee Murphy

To find out more about this artist, see “Lee Murphy: Fine Art and Man-Made Things” in the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com and visit his website leemurphyfineart.com

Oh, and Happy New Year, too!

Photo by Billy Huynh on Unsplash.

Celebrate, but drink responsibly. See you on January 10th, 2022!

Coming in January: The Chill Cool of Canadian Painting

Aysha by Valerie Palmer

It doesn’t get cooler than Valerie Palmer. Find out about her work and other modern Canadian painters in the next Of Art and Wine post. To preview her work go to artnet.com

Photo taken by M. Vernelle. Image used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of critique and review.

Image of Old North End used with the permission of the artist, Lee Murphy.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

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Peace and the Apocalpyse in Botticelli’s Mystic Nativity, plus Wine Cocktails

Mystic Nativity by Sandro Botticelli, c. 1500 Hover over image to magnify.

“This picture, at the end of the year 1500, in the troubles of Italy, I, Alessandro, in the half-time after the time, painted, according to the eleventh [chapter] of Saint John, in the second woe of the Apocalypse, during the release of the devil for three and a half (years)…” Botticelli’s inscription on Mystic Nativity translated from the Greek.

Many of us remember the millenium anxiety produced as the year 2000 approached. Fears ranged from the terror of Y2K making our computerized systems fail to the actual end of the world, caused either by the Rapture or a stray asteroid sending us the way of the dinosaurs. However, January 1st passed, and the sun still rose in the east. Life settled back into its usual rhythm of the humdrum spiked by shocking events, general anxiety balanced with personal ambition, and most of us still held the hope of dying peacefully in bed after a rich and full life. Amen.

These sentiments are hardly new as variations of them were rampant in Europe as the year 1000 approached. The next bout of end-of-the-world fever struck in the years just before 1500, and one of the cities that was most caught up in it was Florence, Italy. It was the High Renaissance, and Lorenzo de Medici, the Magnificent, ruled the city when in 1490 an awkward looking, hawk-nosed, Dominican monk arrived. He took a tiny cramped cell in the Convent of San Marco, which had been converted to a monastery by the leader of a local group of Dominicans, a man originally named Guido di Pietro but who is known to us as Fra Angelico. The newly arrived monk had lived in and around Florence before but had drifted away in 1487. However, his return to Florence was no accident. He was a man on a mission that would bowl over the whole city. His name was Girolamo Savonarola.

Savonarola was disgusted by the excesses of Florence and began to preach against what he saw as decadence. Lorenzo de Medici tried to control the rhetoric of this angry preacher but by 1492 found himself on his deathbed repenting his own sins to this monk. Savonarola’s power really took hold in 1494 when the city was threatened by 10,000 French troops led by the French king Charles VIII. Savonarola persuaded the French to leave peacefully, thus gaining a loyal following in Florence.

His preaching against luxury and excess produced his most outrageous move, the Bonfire of the Vanities, which took place in 1497. He convinced the people of Florence to burn their most valuable possessions, fancy clothes, jewels, furniture, paintings, and any other items of excessive value. Unfortunately for us, one of the most famous painters of that era and someone who was a favorite of the Medici threw some of his own paintings into the bonfire. That painter was Sandro Botticelli.

As usual for fanatics, Savonarola ran afoul of too many powerful people and wound up being hung and then burned in the very plaza where his great bonfire had taken place. Yet he left many converts, one of whom seems to have been Botticelli. Botticelli had been the painter who brought the ancient myths and legends into visual reality as the Florentine Renaissance enjoyed the reemergence of the classics from antiquity. His Venus in The Birth of Venus (1484-1485) was the first female nude that was not a religious figure (normally Eve in the Garden of Eden) painted since ancient times. His thinly clad Graces danced about the goddess Flora to celebrate the coming of spring in Primavera (1478-1482). He painted Venus and Mars (1483) as they rested after a tryst, and captured the beauty of Simonetta Vespucci as Athena and the Queen of Beauty (1475). Yet something about 1500 led him to believe that “the end was nigh.”

A particular Bible verse, Isiah 62:3, spoke of a period of tribulation that would last about three and a half years or so, after which the Day of Judgement would come. Things were in such a sorry state in 1500 that the artist calculated that 1504 would be the end. Admittedly 1504 turned out to be a truly bad year for Botticelli, as his pupil and close companion, the painter Filippino Lippi, died. However, in 1500, Botticelli knew nothing about the loss of Lippi. He just thought he was living in the “time in between time – the tribulation.” With that in mind, let’s look at Mystic Nativity.

The upper portion of Mystic Nativity. Hover over image to magnify

In this upper portion of Mystic Nativity, a group of twelve angels dance in a circle. They carry olive branches, which have scrolls attached, and as the circle dances around and around, crowns sway with the movement. The angels dance in a sky of gold that has descended, covering the normal blue of an earthly sky with that pure incorruptable substance. With that, Botticelli uses his skills in goldsmithing to harken back to the paintings of the medieval period when gold was used for backgrounds in religious paintings because it was untarnishable, thus a good way to represent the purity of heaven.

The scrolls that unfurl from the olive branches contain the 12 privileges of the Virgin Mary, though at present, the writing can only be seen with infrared light. On the roof of the little hut sheltering the nativity scene are three angels dressed in white, red and green, which respectively represent Faith, Charity, and Hope, also known as the Theological Virtues. Within the iconography of Christianity, this celebratory dance can be seen as the promise of peace that came with the birth of Christ and which would one day (soon in Botticelli’s mind) reign again after the Second Coming. Of course, before the Second Coming would be the Apocalypse, the end of the world as Botticelli knew it. This painting seems to be a balancing of those two major prophesied events.

Sandro Botticelli was known for the charm of his decorative painting, which made his wonderful work in the 1480s so appealing and the favorites of his patrons, the Medici. One sees traces of that style in the dancing angels when compared to his Graces in Primavera.

Primavera by Sandro Botticelli, 1478-1482. Hover over image to magnify

However, as Savonarola’s preachings took hold, Botticelli’s art became rougher, more crude, and suffused with the fear of the approaching end time. Normally known for being jovial and outgoing, the artist became melancholic, depressed, and more and more isolated. As the Medici lost power in Florence, his commissions fell away, and in fact his name ultimately disappeared entirely, until he was rediscovered in the 19th century when there was a revival of interest in Florentine arts. Yet, with all of the troubles of his time and the millennial fear of apocalypse, the artist once again turned to his original aesthetic to create a vision of peace and harmony that would vanquish the forces of evil.

Detail of Mystic Nativity showing the nativity scent, Hover over image to magnify.

Here in a detail of the actual nativity scene, much of the imagery is traditional and comes forth from the middle ages. The cow and the donkey are present to indicate the idea of a stable, though this one is set in a forest, as stated in some of the gospels. Mary is a large figure that looms over the child. She and the child and even Joseph to a certain extent are larger than the other figures, indicating their central importance in the story. Mary is presented in adoration of the child as was envisioned in the 14th century by St. Bridget of Sweden. (Bridget of Sweden also envisioned the crucifixion of Christ, which replaced the imagery of Christ as the Good Shepherd, which was a common theme in early Christian art such as that found in Ravenna.) Joseph is on the sidelines, discreetly hunched toward the child. Interestingly, the wise men on the left, though kings, are not dressed in finery nor are any sumptuous gifts present. They seem as humble as the shepherds on the right. Angels are in direct contact with both the shepherds and the kings, touching them and pointing in the direction of the nativity.

This contact between the angels and the humans seems a harbinger of peace and understanding. That message continues in the segment that is just under the section with the nativity.

Detail of Mystic Nativity in which the Virtues in the form of angels embrace humans. Hover over image to magnify.

Here the Virtues, in the form of angels, embrace humans, kissing them on the cheek. In the background and on the sides, grayish winged demons head for the cracks in the earth to hide themselves. It is rather like what happens when cities go through a terrible period of crime and danger but change when ordinary citizens feel empowered to take back the streets by showing their overwhelming presence. Perhaps that is what Botticelli intended with this painting, to empower himself and anyone looking at it to know that bad times will pass and things will change for the better.

This painting is unusual in other ways. It is done in oil on canvas. Botticelli was well known for his paintings in tempera on wooden panels. Perhaps the personal nature of this piece prompted him to choose that medium, as it allows the canvas to be rolled up for storage or even hidden. However, most particularly, it is something of a painted sermon. Yes, it is much influenced by Savonarola’s preachings, but it seems also to have been a personal communication of Botticelli’s. Perhaps, originally, this was just his way of presenting his private thoughts, and how appropriate for a great painter to represent his ideas in this fashion. The painting remained hidden for over 300 years, while other works by the artist were known, if not celebrated as they are today. This painting seems to be the artist’s plea for peace and reconciliation stemming from his fears of a coming apocalypse. And it is a very personal statement, for it is the only one of his paintings that he actually signed.

Articles used for this blog post:

Mystic Nativity/Sandro Botticelli. nationalgallery.org.uk

Art in Tuscany: Sandro Botticelli’s Mystic Nativity travelingintuscany.com

Personal art history notes from classes by Mme. Chantal Duqueroux, Avignon, France.

For a particularly in-depth view of this painting, the history behind it, the life of Botticelli, and further discussion of the mysteries within the painting, take a look at “Sandro Botticelli and the Mystic Nativity” kellybagdanov.com.

Images used in this blog post are of art work in Public Domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine Cocktails for the Holidays!

Winter Wine Recipes and Cocktails Photo by Alison Anton unsplash.com

We all know how refreshing a chilled glass of wine punch can be in the heat of the summer. Well, wine punch does not go away just because a few snowflakes fall. Naturally, one thinks of mulled wine. You know the routine: heat up some red wine, throw in a few spices, some citrus fruit slices, and a cinnamon stick. While there are last minute mulled wine recipes (see a good one here liquor.com), mulled wine does have a long history which you can read about right here on OfArtandWine.com “Let It Snow: Snow Paintings and Mulled Wine.”

What gets really interesting are the national variations on this theme. The Swedes know a thing or two about cold weather and how to knock the chill off. For them it is Glögg. This winter warmer has more than just red wine and citrus. It uses cardamon, ginger, cloves, vodka and port or madeira plus sugar along with the cinnamon and orange zest.

Photo credit to Marcus Nilsson on bonappetit.com

The Germans and the Austrians have their own twist on this age-old formula and theirs is called Gluehwein. This one is known to skiers as an aprés ski drink as it really finishes off the day. In fact its name means “glow wine.” The recipe is the classic one for mulled wine, but if you really want to glow, add in some rum. Have this one when you are somewhere safe and sound, and ready to relax.

One last thing to consider when making these classic mulled wine drinks is the wine. Of course any red wine will work, but the one that comes up in so many recipes is Malbec. The Malbec grape is used in many of the Bordeaux blends and is really food friendly. It goes well with heavier foods like grilled beef, burgers, or chorizo pizza. It has flavors that range from oak, tobacco, baking spices and chocolate to fruit flavors of blackberry, black cherry and plum.

HEY, BUT WHAT ABOUT THE COCKTAILS!

Behold! The New York Sour. Photo credit acouplecooks.com

This baby got started in Chicago in the 1800s and is mixology art and science. The science is what to make the whiskey sour with. At acouplecooks.com, they go for high quality Bourbon, with some maple syrup and lemon juice. The art is floating the red wine over the top and getting the little lemon peel to curl in just the right way. No wonder New York picked this up, took what had originally been called a Continental Sour and put it’s own name on it, hence the New York Sour.

Floating a bit of red wine in the most artful way possible can give a Margarita a bit of added beauty. It only takes a half an ounce (no salt rim, please). This, the Devil’s Margarita, is but one of nine red wine cocktails found on liquor.com, where you can find anything from a traditional spritzer to mulled wine with Calvados or a new-fangled Sangaree with Beaujolais Nouveau, sloe gin, and apple brandy.

Winter Wine treats. Photo by Gaby Dyson on Unsplash.com

The blog at snowfarm.com has a particularly interesting warm possibility that involves chocolate, yes, that most wonderful of all sweets. It involves melting semi-sweet chocolate chips along with wine, vanilla, and sugar. You simply stir constantly until the chocolate melts and blends in, then serve. They also offer a winter twist on the Old Fashioned, so go get out the Bourbon again.

When it comes to fun and interesting wine drinks for the holidays or throughout the winter, you have a variety of choices. Drink them at Christmas in good company, around a cozy fire, and contemplate peace and harmony as the Mystic Nativity suggests.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Next: Of Art and Wine’s Holiday Wishes.

A Champagne Toast to You All! Photo by Kate Hliznitsova on unsplash.com
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The Art of the Dining Table and Holiday Wines

Create the mood for fine dining by showing a beautiful table setting.

Table setting by homedesignlover.com

We all love sitting down to a good meal, immediately made better by a beautiful table setting. In fact, decorating a table, whether for dining or or other purposes, has taken on a special name: tablescape. Even with such changed terminology, one thing about human behavior, whether ancient or modern, is that it remains recognizably the same. People have always seen what the basics were and then improved upon them. Such has been the history of the accoutrements of dining, whether table, plates, utensils, or linens. From ancient times to the present, one can see how all this evolved.

When looking at what many of the ancients did, we see that basics still applied. Ancient Egyptians created chairs, tables, stools, beds and even poles and frames from which hung fine linen to surround their beds and keep the mosquitoes out. Pharaoh Khufu’s mother, Queen Hetepheres, left lovely bedroom furniture showing us what that might have looked like. We know a lot about the food that they ate, and what they drank (wine for the rich and beer for everybody), but not much about how it was served and consumed. It is known that the poor circled together, sitting on the floor where a huge bowl full of food was set in the middle. The gathered proceeded to eat with their fingers. Those with more money would have found it easier to be seated, but in what arrangement, it is not clear. However, it is known that the wealthy had finger bowls to rinse their fingers in, and water that had been boiled, for they had learned that Nile water made people very sick. I have not found any clear depiction of an Ancient Egyptian dining set up, but those who create Ancient Egyptian Revival furniture have carried forth the idea of what that ancient elegance might look like with a slight update.

This is an Ancient Egyptian Revival dining table. See charlieroe.com

The Romans also ate with their hands, though they had plates and serving dishes, as well as bowls for soup. They also had servants to wipe their greasy fingers as they reclined in comfort. Unfortunately, they had a penchant for using lead vessels to drink from, which may have also been one of the causes for the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, as lead poisoning has rather serious consequences. The Romans had knives and spoons, but were not so keen on forks.

This silverware comes from Roman France, and yes, you see a bronze fork there. However, the Romans used forks more for cooking or spearing a piece of meat from a platter, rather than using it the way we do in modern times.

Of course, this completely disrupts the myth that forks only came to the Occident in the 10th century from Byzantium. Personally, I always liked the anachronistic presentation given in the film Beckett, where the heavily bearded, leather and fur-wearing barons of the court of King Henry II of England, were introduced to this frilly French thing, known as a fourchette (fork), which they promptly commenced to stab each other with. But no, that is Hollywood. History shows that merchants traveling from east to west in the 13th century circulated the use of forks. In those days, if you were worth anything, you had your very own eating utensils with you.

The Italians took that to a new height by introducing the cadena, a box for carrying one’s dining utensils. Catherine de Medici brought that custom to France in the 16th century. Given that human behavior has changed little, one can imagine the competition to have the finest looking set in the most wonderfully decorated box. This was especially true if you “sat above the salt,” a reference to the beautiful silver salt cellars that decorated the tables and marked off where the important people sat as opposed to those of lesser standing. The art of decorating the table was in full swing.

Chinese blue porcelain from 1000 – 1400 A.D. metmuseum.org

While the Occident moved relentlessly toward finer and finer dining experiences, the Chinese had already gotten around messy fingers and lead poisoning early on by inventing chopsticks (1200 B.C.), and porcelain dishes (Tang Dynasty, 618-907 A.D.). They had also mastered the knife and spoon early on, and had two-pronged forks for cooking as early as 2400 B.C.! That blue Chinese porcelain that so surprised the people of Europe was developed in the 13th century. A few centuries later in the 17th century when the Dutch were growing rich from trading in the Far East, they decided to make their own porcelain, known as Delft Blue. At the same time (around 1645), France’s sun king, Louis XIV, decided that France needed its own porcelain and created the Sévres factory to create fine porcelain objects, which are known for their beauty and craftsmanship right to the present day.

Delft Porcelain with a Dutch landscape and a Sévres vase from the time of Louis XV.

Of course, having wonderful things upon which to serve up rich meals led the Dutch to invent a genre of painting called the Banketje or Banquet painting in which they showed off their wealth in beautiful serving dishes and stemware on tables overladen with an abundance of fine things to eat. However, being good Protestants, they did not want to tempt fate, so they often showed the fruits and foods as half eaten, and the glasses of wine overturned. Often objects rested on the very edge of the table, as if about to fall into the darkness below. All of this was their way of showing that they knew well that all good things must end and that one must not become too proud. I still think they really enjoyed showing off, and the painters like Pieter Claesz must have loved showing their skills at painting such complicated scenes.

Pieter Claesz’ Still Life with a Turkey, 1627. Rijksmuseum artandculture.google.com

So finally as we arrive in the 1700s, the “need for the communal napkin” faded away and according to “The History of the Table Setting” mickeyslinen.com, the cloth napkin became popular and with it table manners. No more of this stabbing your neighbor with a fork business, oh no. It was time to sit up straight and chew with your mouth closed. Fancy, sparkling objects began to appear on the dining table as people, once again, wanted to show off their wealth, even hiring decorators to help them prepare elaborate tables for their guests. Flowers began to appear in the 1800s, along with other splashes of color in the form of table runners. By the 1900s, there were (and still are) tablescape competitions.

An entry in the tablescape competition at the L.A. County Fair. Photo by Richard Wong/Alamy

So here we are, centuries later, with the proceeds of centuries of work by ancestors from various continents. We are able to slap down a picnic meal on paper plates or a formal Thanksgiving feast for family and friends with the best “china,” flatware and cutlery in silver or gold, and crystal stemware for our wine. All is perfectly placed on a stunning linen tablecloth with matching napkins held in their decorated holders on a table punctuated by charmingly matched serving dishes, and of course, the flowers.

However, we can also have fun when we want to and express our artful fantasies in this rather unique genre of tablescape. I wonder what a Dutch master like Pieter Claesz would have thought of this creation?

The growing subculture of tablescaping in an exhibition/competition at the LA County Fair. A tablescape entry by Bonnie Overman. (Photo by Lawrence K. Ho/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)

Information for this post used the following sources:

“Ancient Egypt for Kids: Table Manners. egypt.mrdonn.org

“The Fiercely Precise World of Competitive Tablescaping” by Andy Wright, atlasobscura.com

“The History of Table Setting: A Timeline” mickeyslinen.com

“The History of Table Settings and Dining Etiquette,” The Richmond Times-Dispatch richmond.com

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Holiday Wines (made somewhat easy).

A Holiday Table from foodnetwork.com Photo credit Liliboas/Getty Images

The holidays are full of things to consider, lists of activities to accomplish, meals to plan, purchases to make, and on and on. Having a few tips on what wines to serve with which foods can help to take some of the pressure off.

Let’s start with the initial welcome. Here one can go in a variety of ways. A light still white wine, like an off-dry Riesling, is one that will go with any number of appetizers, for instance, a soft cheese like Brie or Camenbert baked in a pastry shell filled with that seasonal favorite, cranberries. The crisp but mild fruitiness in the taste of an off-dry Riesling blends well with the sweet/tart taste of the cranberry, as the off-dry has a bit less acid than dry Riesling but also is less sweet than many sweet versions of the wine.

If you simply have guests stopping by or arriving after having traveled distances to reach your home, you might want to go “old world” and greet them with a glass of Vin Santo and some biscotti (sweet Italian almond cookies). The Vin Santo is a traditional Italian “greeting” drink that will warm spirits and help guests settle in for a good conversation.

Holiday time is a time for toasting to good health, good fortune, and good friends, so naturally a nice champagne is called for. There are many choices here, but do remember that America also makes good champagne and yes, we call it by that name. Now depending upon how festive you wish to be, you might decide to serve a sparkling Shiraz, which has a deep red color that goes well with the Christmas season, stick with the pale golden version, or be coy with a sparkling rosé.

The key things to remember when serving sparkling wine is to serve it chilled at 45-50 degrees Fahrenheit, which can be done by placing it in the refrigerator for 2.5 hours or in the freezer for 25 minutes. You have a choice of glasses, but the main goal is to keep the bubbles alive, as they give the wine that sparkle it is known for. A tulip which closes in at the top is best, but a champagne flute works well, too. And don’t forget American champagnes, like those pictured here made by Gruet in New Mexico. gruetwinery.com

ON TO THE MAIN COURSE

Roast Turkey, a holiday favorite. For this recipe click the link to delish.com

Of course, there is nothing to say that you will actually have turkey for any of your holiday meals, but if you decide to go that way, you might want to serve a Pinot Noir. Not only will it go well with the bird, but its main quality is one of being balanced and drinkable. This means that it will go well with the side dishes also, so you need not fear serving mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and cranberry sauce. However, a good Chardonnay can also do the trick, but get an unoaked Chardonnay, as its medium-to-high acidity works well with those side dishes. Should your bird be a duck or a goose, then stick with the Pinot Noir. For those who love roasted meats, a Cabernet Sauvignon or an oaked Chardonnay stand up well to those heavier flavors.

Photo from cameronsseafood.com and the site comes with some fine recipes.

If you really go non-traditional and have seafood, then having it with some champagne would be my first choice. However, Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc and Pinot Gris all work well. This last one is particularly good with any of the fried seafood like calamari. However, when serving dishes like bouillabaisse, paella, jambalaya, or gumbo, you can count on a good Pinot Noir.

TIME FOR DESSERT

Poached Pear and Riesling coravin.com

When it comes to desserts and wines, the difficulty can be the mixing of sweets with sweets, which cancels out the taste of both. However, there are options, like the intriguing combinations offered by Coravin, which include meringue cookies and rosé, and peppermint cookies and Cabernet Sauvignon (click link above). One also has the possibility of serving a fortified Port or Sherry, which can provide a sweet ending to a lovely meal. (Photo from thespruceeats.com).

Well, the holidays are upon us, but hopefully with a few good suggestions, we will all navigate them well and have lovely, memorable experiences of beautifully dressed tables and excellent foods and wines. Happy Holidays!

The articles used for this post on wines for the holidays are all linked above.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Peace and the Apocalypse in Botticelli’s Mystic Nativity and Wine Cocktails.

The Mystic Nativity by Sandro Botticelli, c. 1500

Sandro Botticelli had an interesting career as a painter in the High Renaissance of 15th century Florence. He was favored by Lorenzo de Medici and created many works that were based upon the Ancient Greek myths and legends which had come back into European culture with the Renaissance. However, as time went on he came under the influence of the radical monk Savonarola and began to doubt the previous subject matter of his work. In The Mystic Nativity, we see his approach to the birth of Christ has remnants of his earlier painting style seemingly pressed into the service of a new ideal.

Featured

La Bella Maniera, 16th Century Futuristic, And Wines of Romagna.

Art history is a funny discipline, full of its own little quirks of personality. One of those is the habit of labeling previous types of painting in ways that often put them into less than glorious light. My favorite example is how the absolutely beautiful and often quite sophisticated art of the Middle Ages became known as Gothic, a name that implied the barbarism of invading hoards of murderous tribal people from the steppes of central Asia. Another habit known to art history is the artificially well-defined lines between one age and another, with dates given on either side: High Renaissance, 1420-1520. Of course, 1520 marked the death of Raphael, who according to Vasari was the pinnacle of achievement. What came immediately after that was a downhill slide called in later years Mannerism, a hard term to understand as it implied a formulaic painting style too governed by rules that limited its expression. Though this period was also part of the Renaissance, it is rather cast aside as some strange intermediary period before one came to “good art” again in the Baroque. Au contrare mes chères amies. Yes, I said it! Here’s why.

Detail from Fall of the Titans 1526-1535 by Giulio Romano in the Palazzo Te, Mantua, Italy. Photo credit: akg-images/Eric Lessing. For more see artsandculture.google.com

The dates of this work, a part of the totality called Fall of the Titans, was completed somewhere between 1526 and 1535, almost 500 years ago. Yet, the way the figure is handled with a certain looseness in the definition of the stones, a rather symbolic treatment of the hair, and the comical expressiveness of the face are a long way from Leonardo or Raphael, both of whom died just a few years before this was created. The caricature-like treatment of the face of this titan is more akin to what one might see in a modern graphic novel or an animated film. There is none of the realistic detail of a face of a soldier in battle done by Leonardo da Vinci. The images have been simplified. The expression is almost comedic, or at the very least entertaining. The totality of it is quite different from what was the norm just a short while before.

Head of a Soldier in the Battle of Anghieri, Leonardo da Vinci, 1504-05 artsandculture.google.com

The da Vinci above shows a very realistic representation of a soldier in battle. The drama is there; the seriousness of the moment of conflict is clear. The figure has a realism to it that the titan in Romano’s work does not have.

Nor does Romano’s titan have the realistic detail of a figure done by Raphael, like this sketch, Head of an Apostle, though Romano was second to Raphael in Raphael’s studio. Romano was the artist who finished Raphael’s work when Raphael suddenly died. Obviously Romano could paint in the style of the master of the studio, or he would never have been able to work there. So what explains this difference in style? Had the times changed drastically? Did his patron influence him? Or did the artist feel free to charge into something new?

Details from Fall of the Titans and Empire of the Giants by Giulio Romano c. 1531 artsandculture.google.com

In answer to the questions posed above, I would say that it is at least all three. The 16th century was a time of great instability. The various kings, princes, and dukes all lived on the knife’s edge, sometimes literally. In 1527, the troops of the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V of Spain, mutinied over unpaid wages and sacked the city of Rome! Some 45,000 people were severly effected, with those who were not dead or wounded, having to flee into exile. Romano who finished Raphael’s work, left Rome in 1524 (some indicate 1527) after having gotten into trouble for some illustrations that the Church considered pornographic. He had been persuaded to go to Mantua, the home of Federico II Gonzaga, of the family that ruled Mantua at the time, to create the interiors of Gonzaga’s pleasure palace, the Palazzo Te or Tea Palace. With troubles in Rome, and work elsewhere, it was indeed a good time to leave.

In this confluence of events, one can see a number of elements at play. The artist was seeking a different kind of expression (those images the Church disapproved of?); the times were indeed unstable and dangerous (Rome was sacked not long after he left); and his new patron, Gonzaga, was after something different to add to the entertainments held at the Palazzo Te, which in those times was discreetly outside of Mantua. So the art changed to meet the new situation and took a leap forward to something that looks oddly modern to us.

The Palazzo dei Te or Palazzo Te in Mantua, Italy. inexhibit.com

You may have noticed that the colors of the clothes of one of the Giants is rather pastel as are the rocks that surround him. The use of pastel colors became prevalent in the Bella Maniera period. The misconception that has come with the name Mannerist for that period of time (applied by art historians from a later date) has led thinking away from the idea of any originality. With that have come some surprises, like the colors that appeared under the grime of the Sistine Chapel (1554). The dull colors that made the images hard to see, once cleaned, showed the use of many soft pastel colors, which in fact was a hallmark of La Bella Maniera. To get a good sense of what they looked like before and with a click of the mouse to see what they looked like once cleaned and well-lighted, look at “Restoration of the Sistine Chapel: Before and After” by David Calhoun davidbcalhoun.com

Jacopo Pontormo (1494-1557) was one of the outstanding painters of the time and the teacher of Agostino Bronzino who became court painter to Duke Cosimo de Medici I of Tuscany. Here in The Deposition (1526-1528), Pontormo is fully in the spirit of that change in the art. Notice the elongated bodies and the use of bright pastel colors. Bronzino would also distort the bodies of the figures but only to make them curve in an elegant way. See Bronzino’s Allegory of Love on OfArtandWine.com, 02/10/20

This playing with the forms and the colors and taking them far away from what the High Renaissance had formulated could be seen as a part of Baldassare Castiglione’s idea of sprezzatura, representing ease and elegance in everything. Portormo’s figures almost seem more decorative rather than highly religious. That penchant for the unrealistically elongated, gracefully flowing figures can be seen in the stucco work inside of Fontainebleau Palace in France. It was with Francis I of France that the Renaissance entered France. Yes, Leonardo da Vinci spent his last years there, but La Bella Maniera followed.

Figures above the entrance to the Chapel of the Trinity and figures by Francesco Primaticcio

In the figures above (all from Fontainebleau), one can see the elongated arms and legs and relatively small heads of the figures. This move into the format of the Bella Maniera came because of the influence of King Francis I, who after his return from being defeated at the Battle of Pavia (1526) and spending a year in captivity in Spain, decided that everything must change, and change it did. Artists like Primaticcio were brought in from Italy, bringing their 16th century Renaissance sense of elegance and beauty (bella maniera literally), and stories that were more focused on classical myths and legends than they were on the biblical. amisdechateaufontainebleau.org.

The changes to art fostered in the 16th century affected architecture as well. There in Mantua on a municipal court building are two female cariatides that drape themselves down the building façade very much like Belle Epoch figures. Yet, they were done by Romano during his long stay in Mantua. Most outstanding would be the Park of Monsters, also known as The Monsters of Bomarzo. Prince Pier Francesco Orsini (old Roman aristocracy) suffered from war, captivity, and the death of his beloved wife, which one might say soured him on life. Wanting to express the darker side of human existence, the prince hired a celebrated architect who had worked on Saint Peter’s Cathedral to come to create the prince’s vision of horror. Not unlike Romano who had gone off to Mantua to create these enormous, fantastical figures for Federico II Gonzaga, so Pirro Ligorio went to fulfill his patron’s wishes. You see the results below

Some of the Monsters of Bomarzo atlasobscura.com

While this work is done with the intention of being horrific, these are still from the 1500s, which is one of the reasons I posit that Bella Maniera was quite futuristic. Certainly it is art that moved well beyond the normal look of the day, which may have been the reason it was so dismissed by later art historians. The Catholic Church did not like this veering into myth, legend, and the imagination, so launched as part of its Counter-Reformation initiatives, an art that was more “understandable” and which dealt with religion once again. Thus was born the Baroque Period and the famous Carracci family from Bologna were among the first to produce that art that left behind these harder to understand concepts and brought the art down to an earthly realism once again. (See the article on Annibale Carracci from Octobet 25, 2021). What I see, as an artist and art lover, is that when artists are free to express, they can go far ahead of where the regular population is. For those who are interested in these possibilities, I suggest reading Dr. Leonard Shlain’s book Art and Physics, which may give one a different perspective on Abstract Expressionism.

Works used for this article are in the links above. My personal art history notes from my study of La Bella Maniera in 16th century art under the guidance of Mme. Chantal Duqueroux in Avignon, and from our class visit to Mantua are also used.

All art works are in public domain. Photo credits are given in the links to the websites of origin.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

The Wines of Romagna

Vineyards in Emilia-Romagna lacuchinaitaliana.com

The region of Emilia-Romagna in Italy is in and around the city of Bologna, home of one of Europe’s oldest universities and as mentioned above, home of the celebrated Carracci family of painters from the Baroque era. It is said to be a land that produces wines and foods that are hearty and down-to-earth like the rugged, plain-spoken inhabitants of that area. Here are few to consider.

LAMBRUSCO

Two Glasses of Lambrusco delish.com

Lambrusco is one of the favorite wines of the Romagna area. Lambrusco grapes were used for winemaking long before bubbly was discovered. Their cultivation goes back to the time of the Etruscans and the Romans. The grapes come in a wide variety: salamina, maestri, marani, montericco, and sobara. Most are grown right there in Emilia-Romagna but in some cases vintners will get some of them from Mantua, which is actually in Lombardy. The making of the frizzante, the sparkling wine, is done with the same method used for producing prosecco, which involves a second fermentation in a pressurized tank. The flavors are of berries and citrus, and the colors range from red to rose pink. For those who like red wine all year long, Lambrusco is a good way to have some red sparkle in the summer time.

MALVASIA

While the malvasia grape grows all over the Mediterranean, it came to Emilia-Romagna as the result of the Venetians losing a trade route to Crete because of the Turks. The solution was to go relatively nearby to Emilia-Romagna and grow the grapes there. Malvasia grapes produce a white wine that also comes in a frizzante. Its light taste is perfect for a summer’s day at the beach or for lightly fried snacks. I can imagine it as a nice companion for a plate of fried calamari. It comes in both dry and sweet varieties and the most celebrated kind is Malvasia de Candia, which is a reference to its original home in Crete.

PIGNOLETTO

Cultivated in the hills near Bologna, at an altitude of 150-600 meters (600-1900 feet), the Grechetto Gentile grape is the source of Pignoletto, a favorite in the restaurants of Bologna, as it comes in sparkling, dry, and sweet varieties. The name refers to pine cones, as the grapes cluster in small tight units in the general shape of a pine cone. Most of the production centers around the Apennine town of Pignoletto, hence the name. The tank method is used to make the sparkling version of this wine, which is positioning itself to rival Prosecco, though that competition has been compared to David in combat with Goliath. But David won that battle, didn’t he? Guess we will have to wait and see.

TREBBIANO

Last but certainly not least is Trebbiano. The grape itself is often blended with other varieties, but it can stand alone as a light, refreshing wine to serve with fish or with snacks. It is often associated with Ravenna, but it is the most well-known wine of Emilia-Romagna. It has a straw yellow color, which is like a reminder of summertime, and it comes in sparkling versions as well as still ones. There are versions of it from other areas like Trebbiano di Lugana (from the Veneto), Trebbiano d’Abruzzo from central Italy and its famed Montelpulciano d’Abruzzo. However, there is also Trebbiano di Soave from Lombardy and the Veneto.

Needless to say, Emilia-Romagna is a rich area not only in wines but also in art and art influences. So the next time you have a chance to try one of these wines, think of Bologna, the Carracci family of painters, and of that odd and beautiful period that came just before them – La Bella Maniera.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Thanksgiving!

As the next post would be the 25th, Thanksgiving, I wish you all a Happy Holiday now. In the meantime, I shall be researching the Art of the Table to provide a little history on how it is that we have arrived at the making of glorious artful table decor, and of course, there will be suggestions for good wines for the rest of holidays.

Photo credit to HomeDesignLover.com

Featured

Annibale Carracci, the Anti-Mannerist, and Sangiovese Wines.

The Bean Eater by Annibale Carrachi, 1583-1585.

The table above is not filled with fine glassware or flatware. There is no glint of silver here and there. Nor is the food being consumed anything but the most ordinary – beans, in fact. The items on the table are rather non-descript, bread, wine, and the main course, those beans. While one may not be able to place the clothing in time, it is certain that this is the garb of a working man, someone with his sleeves rolled up. His crumpled hat was obviously meant to protect his head, though his face shows the ruddiness of hours in the sun. His thick wrist and heavy fingered hands, complete with dirt under his nails, indicate a sturdy body accustomed to working the fields. He looks up in the direction of the viewers as if he suddenly notices us, so suddenly that he tilts his next mouthful of beans so that some of the juices fall from the spoon back toward the bowl. It is almost like a snapshot captured in paint rather than by a photograph.

I have a question for you, just for the sake of comparison. Look at the dates for The Bean Eater, and tell me if you think it looks like the painting of the 1500s? Probably the first answer would be, “No.” The paintings of that time were all of Bible stories, crucifixions, and saints. Or perhaps in your museum visits, you have seen portraits of various kings, queens, and other notables in their stiff, but beautifully detailed finery. An example might be Bronzino’s representation of the key figures around Cosimo de Medici the First, Duke of Tuscany. The subjects of that type of painting were of times gone by or of levels of society far beyond that of the ordinary person. The easily recognizable activities of daily life seemed to be of no import. Then along came Annibale Carracci, and the art began to look different.

Boy Drinking by Annibale Carracci, 1582-1583 Hover over image to magnify.

In the painting here. a shop boy takes a break and guzzles down a glass of wine. The pose, if you can call it that, again is a snapshot in painting of a particular unguarded moment. The way the head is tilted back to show the inside of the nostrils and the eyes looking into the emptied glass to make sure to get every last drop, would not be one to write home about. However, it presents interesting angles, great possibilities for subtle color changes, and speaks of a gesture that everyone can recognize. Even the stain on the shirt fits in with the idea of a worker taking a short break. It is a painting of the everyday life of an ordinary person, yet done in a style that doesn’t look much like the 1500s. It broke the mold, and that was part of what made Carracci so famous.

Sebastian Smee in his recent article for the Washington Post, “This Simple Painting Revolutionized Art,” gives the credit to Annibale Carracci’s Boy Drinking as the painting that broke away from the style of the time, called Mannerism. It is a name created later that I argue does not do justice to a lot of the art of the period any more than Gothic (which suggests barbaric) does justice to the beauty of the art of the Middle Ages. (More on all that is to come.) However, the key thing here is that things changed, and the reasons for that change are quite interesting.

Agostino Carracci, brother of Annibale, and Annibale Carracci.

First let’s get some idea of who the principle player in this story was. The two portraits above, both self-portraits of the respective artists, are perfect representations of both the men and their times. On the left is Agostino Carracci, the slightly older brother of Annibale (Agostino, 1557-1602 and Annibale 1560-1609). While both brothers and their cousin Ludovico worked on projects together, Agostino shows himself in the formal manner, appropriate for a painter and poet who worked for the upper echelons of society. In this picture he represents himself, complete with ruffled collar and a garment with satiny sleeves, as a watchmaker, or a keeper of time, which in some ways is what a painter does by capturing the spirit of an age. Annibale, on the other hand, shows mostly his face and the burning light in his eyes, all emphasized by the cropped aspect of the painting and the dark browns of his non-descript cloak and floppy old hat. Simply put, with no artifice, you can tell by the portrait that the guy can paint. What more do you need to know?

Annibale Carracci is the most notable of the three Carracci’s who were painting at the time, and it is because of his move away from the stylized and highly intellectualized paintings of the Mannerist period that he is the most famous. The 16th century was the second part of the Renaissance and was much involved with pleasing royal patrons who used art to demonstrate their power and wealth in a time when things were in fact quite precarious.

A good idea of the rigors of court life in those dangerous times comes from a book called The Book of the Courtier by the man represented here in a painting by Raphael (c.1514). His name was Baldassare Castiglione. Castiglione was known as the supreme courtier, who created a special term, sprezzatura, to describe the way that a courtier should behave. The idea was to make any demand by the ruler (king, duke, prince, etc.) seem as though it could be done as easily as breathing air, regardless of the difficulty.

The result of all this intellectualized “refinement” in behavior had a definite effect on the art, producing art that was highly symbolic, dealing with classical rather than biblical themes, and which often went far ahead of where society in the 1500s actually was. One good example is the work of Giulio Romano, Raphael’s second-in-command, who in 1527 traveled to Mantua to paint the interior of the Palazzo di Te in huge almost cartoon-like figures of gods and goddesses cavorting through the many tales of their misdeeds. The feeling is one of walking through an animated movie or perhaps a graphic novel.

The Empire and the Giants and Fall of the Titans by Giulio Romano (c. 1531) For more see Googgle Arts and Culture artsandculture.google.com

This movement away from art related to religion played into the hands of the Catholic Church that wanted to bring art back to realism and to art that could be easily understood through common culture and Church doctrine, as opposed to references to ancient, classical myths and legends. In a way, some of this had happened in Florence in the 1490s when the monk Savonarola had railed against the vanities and had people like Botticelli, famous for many paintings of classical themes, throwing some of his works into the bonfires. This time the move away from classical themes and intellectualized treatments of such fit in with the Counter-Reformation. The art became known as Baroque, and the emphasis was on realism and not on these “odd” artistic ideas like Romano’s caryatides that support the entrance to a court of justice in Mantua and look almost like figures from the Belle Epoch in the late 1800s.

Carracci’s focus on the ordinary and on realism fit right in with the mood of the times, which was to bring art back into something recognizable by the masses. Carracci, himself, seems to have been more interested in pursuing his craft as a painter than in gaining favor at any royal court. Even so, he painted his share of major works including the ceilings of the Farnese Palazzo in Rome. While he did do religious paintings, he ventured into areas that were to become more popular in the 1600s when Roman painting took a turn toward the landscape. (For more on that see the information on the show, “Rome: Nature and the Ideal, Landscapes 1600-1650” at the Prado in Madrid, museodelprado.es)

River Landscape by Annibale Carracci, c. 1590

Though there is a person on a raft in the middle of this painting, the focus is decidedly on the natural environment. In fact, the man on the raft is partially blocked by a great tree trunk. Carracci’s treatment of the trees and their leaves looks like a precursor to the painting of the 17th century’s Poussin and Claude Lorrain. Carracci’s desire to always improve his craft led him to go to Venice in the 1580s where he spent time in the home of Jacopo Bassano, a painter quite famous for, among other things, his paintings of dogs. Titian’s work was a great influence on Carracci as well, as was the work of the Florentine, Michelangelo.

However, Carracci was an innovator, developing a style of applying paint called broken brushwork, that allows for the rougher textured paint strokes to pick up the light. This innovative attitude may have been the result of his growing up in Bologna, the home of one of the oldest universities in Europe. Whatever the contributing elements were, the Carraccis (brothers and cousin) were among the most famous of the artists in the late 16th century, and along with Caravaggio moved art into a new period that allowed people to understand what they saw without having to be schooled in all of the appropriate classical references. I do still say that La Bella Maniera, a more appropriate name than Mannerism, had its fine points with the artists taking many of the works far ahead of the time in which they lived. However, that story is “TO BE CONTINUED…”

All paintings used in this article are in Public Domain.

Resources used are as follows:

“Great Works. The Bean Eater” by Tom Lubbock independent.co.uk

Heilbrun Timeline of History, “Annabale Carracci (1560-1609)” metmuseum.org

River Landscape artsy.net

“Rome: Nature and the Ideal Landscape 1600-1650” museodelprado.es

“This Simple Painting Revolutionized Art” by Sebastian Smee washingtonpost.com

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

The Blood of Jove – Sangiovese.

Sangiovese grapes from “Get to Know Sangiovese Wine” eataly.com

It is said that in ancient times, the Etruscans named this wine for the King of the Gods, Jove or Jupiter, as the later Romans would call him. The rich dark juice that comes from these grapes along with its strong, tannin-rich taste make the name of the grape quite appropriate. In many ways, it is the king of the Tuscan grapes, as it can be the sole grape used in a wine, as in Brunello di Montalcino. Brunello is a supreme Tuscan wine and the most important appellation. It has been called seductive, as it has the flavor of “cherries and chocolate” and aromas of “truffles and tobacco” (eataly.com). Or the grape can be blended to create a wine like the ever popular Chianti, the best of which is from the Chianti Classico Consortium, which produces high quality Chianti, marked with the Black Rooster label (see ofartandwine.com) to distinguish it from some of the more acidic, mass produced types.

Aerial view of the city of Bologna, Italy, home of the Carracci family of painters.

Bologna was the home of Annibale Carracci and the city to which he brought fame by his innovated painting style. Bologna and the nearby town of Modena are famous for the wines they produce, many of which include Sangiovese grapes. The area of Italy where they are located is known as Romagna or sometimes as Emilia-Romagna. The countryside surrounding the area and the Sangiovese wines produced here are said to be as “rough, honest and frank” as the inhabitants of the area (travelemiliaromagna.it). That direct, honest characteristic can certainly be seen in the work of Annabale Carracci, just think of The Bean Eater. Modena produces a ruby-red wine that is mainly made from Sangiovese grapes. It is dry and well balanced and known for its beautiful purple reflections.

While the Sangiovese grape seems to have originated in Tuscany, the locals in and around Bologna claim it was born in the village of Santarcangelo di Romagna. Everybody loves to claim a good thing, right? No matter where it originated, it has become one of winemakers favorite grapes, as it blends so well with other grapes and can produce a wide variety of tastes based upon the climate, the terroir, and the winemaking process. This versatility has lead to the creation of wines referred to as Super Tuscans. They are made in non-traditional ways, including blending with other varieties such as cabernet, merlot, and syrah, and being aged in small French oak casques.

Sangiovese wine and anything with tomato. Photo credit and recipes justwines.com.au

The picture above says it all. Sangiovese wines go very well with meat dishes, and pastas with tomato sauces, like the famous Bolognese sauce. Grilled steak goes very well with the wine, but also grilled vegetables have their taste enhanced by the flavor of Sangiovese. The wine also works with the flavors of herbs like oregano, dill, thyme, and basil. A great cheese to serve with Sangiovese wine is Aged Asiago or Aged Pecorino Toscano. The wines are meant to be drunk fairly soon, so do not keep an unopened bottle more than about three years, though some versions that are mixed with cabernet, malbec or merlot can last five-to-seven years. Serve the wine at 60-65 degrees Fahrenheit. Any glass will do, as there is little aroma. Then you are good to go.

Don’t miss this wonderful wine. Try it the next time you fire up the grill for meat dishes and grilled veggies or when you are in the mood for a meaty pasta dish. Enjoy it like Carracci’s Bean Eater dug into his hearty meal, and toast both Tuscany and Romagna for their contribution to the world of wine.

Photo from thespruceeats.com “What is Sangiovese Wine?”

Information gathered on Sangiovese wine comes from the linked websites in the paragraphs above.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: The Avant Garde of La Bella Maniera and Wines of Romagna.

Detail from Fall of the Titans by Giulio Romano, c. 1531 in the Palazzo di Te, Mantua, Italy. artsandculture.google.com

Yes, this was done in the early 1500s. It looks like a modern graphic novel illustration of a classical story, but no, it was done by Giulio Romano for his patron Federico Gonzaga of Mantua to decorate his pleasure palace the Palazzo di Te. This rather modern looking illustration of a scene is just one example of how Mannerism, also called La Bella Maniera, allowed artists the freedom to go where their imaginations and their art would take them and thus became a real avant-garde movement before the term was ever coined.

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Art History C.S.I.: What Happened to Nefertiti’s Eye? Plus Wine Among the Ancients.

Among the mysteries of Ancient Egypt, the Amarna period particularly captures the imagination. Whether it is deciphering Akhenaten’s strangely shaped statues (physical deformity, religious symbolism, or artistic innovation?) and who the heck was Smenkhkare, or figuring out who killed King Tut’s mother and was she Nefertiti or Kiya, the questions around Nefertiti’s missing eye seem rather small. Yet among Egyptologists, whether professional or lay, even seemingly minor things can become full-blown controversies. Egyptologist, Dr. Kara Cooney, laughingly said in one of her youtube online conversations that at any gathering of Egyptologists, the mention of anything about Nefertiti is a good way to start a bar fight. While Of Art and Wine does not suggest that you throw a glass of glorious Pinot Noir at anyone, let’s dare to dive into the ancient queen’s business.

Bust of Nefertiti, c. 1340 B.C.E. Neues Museum, Berlin, Germany. Hover over image to magnify.

First of all, there is no word for queen in Ancient Egyptian. What we call a queen, they referred to as the Great Royal Wife, and Nefertiti is thought to have been even more than a wife. Some think she was a co-ruler with her husband, Akhenaten. He ruled Egypt from 1353 to 1336 BCE and took Egypt toward the worship of one god, Aten, a solar deity. This deed was so hated that he has been forever labeled a heretic, and much of his legacy was obliterated in ancient times. It is often been suggested that the odd look of some of the statuary comes from an attempt to mix the male and female elements of the sun god, Aten, into the form of the Pharaoh, who was his chief representative on earth. Others, especially African-Americans, look at that face and find recognizable features seen within that population. As has been said, the controversies are many. (For more on the sculptural style of that period, see the article “Akhenaten: Strange-looking King or Sassy Sculptor?” at yisela.medium.com)

Statue of Pharaoh Akhenaten yisela.medium.com

Akhenaten changed more that just the style of worship. He changed how the country was structured. Rather than have the usual north/south split, with the royal family and court in Thebes (ancient Waset) in the south and the administration in the northern city of Memphis (Inebu-hedj or The White Walls), he had both the court and the administration at his new capital, Akhetaten, thus centralizing the government. This becomes an important fact when looking at the location of the home and workshop of Thutmose, the Royal Sculptor, whose workshop produced many of the existing statues of that period, including the one of Nefertiti with the missing eye.

Thutmose was no piker. The compound where he lived and worked was very near to the North Palace where the royals lived. It contained the artist’s rather spacious home, a large workshop where he worked with his assistants, a “pantry” where various models were kept – a sort of reference library of sculpture, and a stable which included his very own chariot (a gift from Pharaoh?). His close association and location near to the royal court was the source of royal commissions and the source of his wealth. Though Thutmose’ tomb in Sakkara shows him as a painter with a palette given him by Pharaoh Amenhotep III, it is clear from the work that he did for Akhentaten that his abilities as a sculptor were much in demand. And of course, those sculptures were often painted as the beautifully done bust of Nefertiti is.

Nefertiti through the years. All are versions of the queen from the studio of Thutmose.

The bust of Nefertiti that is now in the Neues Museum in Berlin was found by German archeologist, Ludwig Borchardt, in 1912 and left Egypt under not quite legal circumstances. A lax French official (the French not the Egyptians controlled the archeological concession at the time) did not inspect each box, allowing the statue to leave the country unnoticed. This has set up the current dispute between Egypt and Germany about who should have possession of that statue. It was with the discovery of the statue that the theories about the missing eye began.

THEORY #1: THE EYE POPPED OUT WHEN THE STATUE FELL OFF A SHELF.

Borchardt had found the statue in Thutmose’ pantry along with a number of other items, some unfinished and some deliberately smashed (Akhenaten’s images in particular). It was lying face down in the sand, and when picked up, the missing eye was immediately noticed. This brings up one of the theories about what might have happened. This theory says that the statue was on a shelf and in the disorder that followed the death of Akhenaten, a time when Thutmose moved his studio to Memphis, it fell off the shelf and the eye popped out. This idea had occurred to Borchardt, who thoroughly searched and shifted through the sands in an attempt to find the missing eye. However, none was found then, nor has one been found since. This may suggests that one had not yet been made for that sculpture, though that is problematic as the bust dates from either 1345 or 1340 BCE, which is a few years before the end of Akhenaten’s reign. There must be another reason why the eye is missing, especially since there are also no chisel marks indicating the eye was gouged out by those who defaced the other statues of the former royals once the regime had ended.

THEORY #2: NEFERTITI HAD AN OPTHALMIC INFECTION THAT OBLITERATED HER LEFT EYE.

Eye diseases were certainly not uncommon in Ancient Egypt. There are also lots of superstitions concerning the eye, from the fear of the evil eye to the power of the Eye of Horus, which was a protective symbol. (The god Horus lost his eye in battle, by the way.) The problem with this theory is that there are plenty of representations of Nefertiti with both eyes. As well, there are images of her with no eyes at all, just eyelids, but again this would be a matter of the stages of completion of the statue itself. Of importance here is royal decorum in which there were appropriate ways to show the royal family. Egyptologist, Joyce Tyldesley, gives the example of the images of Pharaoh Siptah of the 19th Dynasty, who was known to have had a twisted, crippled foot. All images of him, however, are shown with normal feet and legs, as was deemed appropriate when representing the pharaoh (Nefertiti’s Face, p. 62).

Two statues of Nefertiti from Thutmose’ workshop with eyes outlined but not yet put in.

THEORY #3: THUTMOSE, THE REJECTED LOVER, TOOK HIS REVENGE OUT ON THE STATUE.

Here it seems that the heat of the desert must have taken its toll on the imagination. For like a mirage, the thought that this artisan whose very livelihood (and life) depended upon keeping the Pharaoh’s favor would hit on the queen, just evaporates the closer one looks at it.

THEORY #4: THE BUST WAS JUST ONE OF THE MANY STATUES THAT THUTMOSE’S ASSISTANTS PRACTICED ON.

Reality seems to have returned with the supposition that since this bust along with many others in various stages of completion was found in the pantry, which served as a type of repository of models, it was also a model that was used to teach the assistants how to install the eyes. The trouble with this, in my opinion, is that there is no trace of the beeswax glue that was used to cement eyes into statues. The eye itself would have been of rock crystal with the pupil painted in black, and of course, no such missing eye has ever been found. Though there are a couple of tiny areas where the black eyeliner is missing on the lower left eyelid, there is no indication of eyes being set and removed and then reset as would happen when workers practice doing something.

THEORIES #5 AND #6: MINE.

Joyce Tyldesley, at one point in her book admits that sometimes even the best Egyptologists give way to “unabashed speculation,” which is how she announces some of her theories about what happened in those days. So given that license to “speculate,” I think that this bust of Nefertiti was indeed a model, but one worked on by Thutmose himself as a way to perfect his ability to capture the image of the queen. It seems to me to have been so close to completion and too finely modeled and painted to have been something that he would allow his assistants to practice on. The xrays that show the sculpture underneath the lovely painted plaster finish, show a face that has more wrinkles, as well as a slighly bulbous tip to the nose. The painted bust had alterations done to the face underneath the plaster covering, so that we get a perfected realism. It still shows the indication of lines at the corners of the mouth and a bit under the eyes, but is done in a sort of ancient “airbrushing” technique to enhance the queen’s beauty. Once the artist had achieved his goals for how to represent the queen with reality but appropriate beauty, and with one eye already perfectly set, he had no need to set another eye. He just put the statue on a shelf and left it for future reference. (For more on what lies beneath the painted plaster, see this article from Scientific American, “The Hidden Face of Nefertiti.” scientificamerican.com)

Lastly, we have this statue of Nefertiti which is called the Striding Statue, as it is full length. It is dated from 1350 which is early in Akhenaten’s reign. How that date was determined, I do not know, but the statue itself seems to represent an older Nefertiti (see the black and white photo presented earlier which shows her face). She would have had some of her six children by 1350, but all six if this statue was from a later date. The full length version shows a woman with a sagging belly and a stoop in her shoulders that suggests advancing age. I mention this because dating of these works seems to vary a lot.

The Nefertiti bust is sometimes dated at 1345 BCE or perhaps 1340 BCE, but could it be as late as 1337? What if this standing statue is from a later part of the 17 year reign of Akhenaten as well, and thus showing the aging queen, perhaps not in the best of health. There is some evidence that Nefertiti, whose name changes a number of times, shows up again in Year 16 of Akhenaten’s reign, as the Great Royal Wife. There are white ushabtis, quickly done figures carved to provide extra servants to be placed in the tomb for someone who has already died, that have Nefertiti’s name on them and are marked Year 16. If the bust of Nefertiti was done around 1337 rather than 1340 BCE, could it be that it did not get finished because the queen died?

Well, regardless of these “unabashed speculations,” we do know that after the last few Amarnite rulers came and went, the whole project was shut down. The royals under Tutankhamun moved back to Thebes, and the administration went to Memphis. Thutmose moved to Memphis also, as it was the site where the commissions were given out for various pharaonic projects. He built his tomb nearby in Sakkara, a site favored by many former Amarna officials. The bust was left behind in his old digs in Akhetaten, along with many other figures, as there was no more need or desire for them.

What we are left with are speculations on mysteries inside of conundrums inside of enigmas. We look at the face of the queen and wonder about her, and what part she had to play in that religious revolution that failed. Who was she? We will never know, though Camille Paglia left us with a chilling thought when she wrote, “The proper response to the Nefertiti bust is fear.” The actual truth is but a whisper in the sand.

Sources for this post come largely from two of Joyce Tyldesley’s books on Nefertiti: Nefertiti, Egypt’s Sun Queen, 1999 and Nefertiti’s Face: The Creation of an Icon, 2018.

Scientific American article (linked above) “The Hidden Face of Nefertiti,” and the article, “Akhenaten: Strange-looking King or Sassy Sculptor” (also linked above.)

Artwork shown in this article is in public domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.comor her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine Among the Ancients.

We know that wines have been around for a long time. They were created for a variety of reasons and used in a variety of ways. A little tour of the ancient world produces some interesting details.

ANCIENT EGYPT

Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs for wine used to label wine jars.

The Ancient Egyptians may have started the business of crafting interesting wine labels. Emily Kate in the article, “How Ancient Egypt’s Wine Labels Rival Today’s” (grapecollective.com) details how their system of labeling worked. Egyptians, like those of many ancient cultures, mostly drank beer, and workers were even paid in beer. The upper echelons of society had their wine. Both drinks were solutions to the problem of drinking water that made people sick. Most of the grapes for local production were cultivated in the rich terrain found in the Nile Delta; however, much of the wine was imported from the near east.

As for the labels, they are sometimes ways to date the reigns of the pharaohs. For instance one of the signs that there was a pharaoh named Smenkhkare are the wine labels on jugs that come from the House of Smenkhkare, which announces the beginning of his reign, followed by the Funerary Wine of Smenkhkare, which is dated later during that same year. For more on their ancient drinks, I leave the link to a great video called The Pharaoh’s Liquid Gold about the creation of beer youtube.com

MESOPOTAMIA

We know that many of the cities and civilizations in this area of the Middle East go back for many thousands of years. Like the Ancient Egyptians, most of the common people drank beer. There is even a recipe given for beer in an ancient work called “The Hymn to Ninkasi.” Code de Vino’s official magazine website, gives Mesopotamia the credit for creating the world’s first wine culture. It is from there that the Egyptians imported much of their wine. King Tut had a number of wine jugs, many imported, in his tomb, showing that he intended to enjoy it in the afterlife as he had in his earthly life. Seemingly the grapes for these wines were grown in the area near the Straights of Hormuz in modern day Iran.

ANCIENT PERSIA (now Iran).

Bas Relief from ruins of ancient Persepolis – Iran (Persia). UNESCO World Heritage Site

A site in the Zagros mountains in Iran revealed wine jugs going back 7,000 years. The Shiraz grape which is grown throughout the world seems to be connected to the city of Shiraz and a famous wine produced in Iran since ancient times, called Shirazi. The first record of it is from 2,500 BCE. The poet Hafez immortalized this wine in his poetry in the 14th century, and in the 1680s, a French merchant, Jean Chardin, drank Shiraz wine in the court of Shah Abbas and wrote of its marvelous taste. The BBC Channel has a short documentary on The Secret Behind Iran’s Fabled Wine (Shiraz) youtube.com

THE ANCIENT GREEKS

Can’t mention the Persians without mentioning the Greeks, who are quite an inventive bunch. Along with developing Democracy, they did some interesting tricks with their wine. One of those was mixing sea water with wine. Yes, sea water! It seems that in just the right amounts, the salt in the sea water enhances the taste of the wine. This technique for improving the taste was passed on to the Romans, who often continued the practice. Wine has a 4,000 year old history in Greece, where it was used for both religious ceremonies and for “medicinal” purposes. The Greeks believed in the Delphic proscription of “nothing in excess” and applied it to their consumption of wine. It was considered barbaric in Ancient Greece to drink wine that was not mixed with water. The recipe was 1 part wine to 3 parts water.

THE ROMANS

Finally on our little tour, we come to the Romans, whose vast territory was ideal for the spread of viticulture. From the fertile valleys of Italy into France and Spain and even England, wherever the Romans settled, wine was sure to emerge. People in many of these areas had discovered how to make wine before their Roman overlords showed up; however, the trade routes of the Roman Empire enhanced the production greatly. In fact, we still drink the same varieties of wine that the Romans did in their day. Interesting detail: the wine that was popular with the Ancient Romans was a white wine called Falernum. It was allowed to age for 10-20 years, which turned it from white to a beautiful amber color.

While we talk of the certainties of human existence, like Death and Taxes, we can now say that Wines will always be with us as well.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

COMING SOON: Annibale Carracci, the Anti-Mannerist, and Sangiovese Wines.

The Bean Eater by Annibale Carracci, 1585.

Annibale Carracci and his brother Agostino were two of the most famous painters in the 16th century. They worked in the style which we call Mannerism but which was known in at the time as La Bella Maniera (The Beautiful Manner) for emphasizing the finesse with which work was done. Even in this simple genre painting of a man having a meal, Annibale Carracci uses a technique of broken brush work to give the piece a polish that was much valued at the time. Notice also that even eating beans, this fellow has his glass of wine, and the area around Bologna produces wines made from Lambrusco. Trebbiano and Sangiovese grapes.

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Water, Waves, and Winslow Homer, plus Artsy Wine Tourism.

Northeaster by Winslow Homer, 1895, re-worked in 1901. Oil on canvas. The Metropolitan Museum, NYC. Hover over image to magnify.

Looking at the painting above, it is hard for anyone to not marvel at the mastery of the technique or to deny the power of the entity that Winslow Homer (1836-1910) portrays here – the mighty sea. This painting, which once held two male figures, was rearranged by Homer a few years after it was painted to take out those male figures, which had been standing among the rocks on the left side of the painting. By removing them, Homer moved this painting away from the dictates of the narrative style of the 19th century toward more of what is seen in modern painting, a simple focus on the elements themselves. Homer lets the sea tell its own story. He does it with the powerful clouds of foaming sea spray which contain a variety of whites, blues, and lavenders. The waves that rush the rocks are anything but placid as they heave upwards in icy blues and blue-grays, streaked with white, sandy yellows, and hints of lavender. Such waves come from strong winds that accompany what New Englanders call a Nor’easter. This phenomenon of violent wind and sea is not a thing of the past. It caused New Jersey to issue a state of emergency from January 31 to February 3, just this year – 2021! With that knowledge, one looks at this painting not as a relic of the past but as a part of the daily news.

What is hard to believe is that Homer, who grew up in New England, an area of seafaring communities, did not begin to paint his marine paintings until 1873, well into his career as an illustrator and masterful painter of watercolors. He had been exposed to marine painting during his stay in France in 1867, where his paintings of simple folk life done en plein air were more akin to the Barbizon school. While his concern with light was a similar interest as that of the Impressionists, Homer sought to find his own path, on his own. Famously, he said that artists “should never look at pictures” but instead “stutter in a language of their own. en.wikipedia.org

On the Beach by Winslow Homer, 1869. Oil on canvas Arkell Museum, New York. Hover over image to magnify.

This painting, like the Northeaster above, is in oil paints on canvas. The painting is not just famous for its presentation of a rather stormy sea, but for being a painting that got divided into two paintings because of severe criticism about there being too many figures on the beach. The artist divided off a large group of beach goers into a smaller painting, leaving just a few tiny figures on the shore in this painting. The two paintings are now owned by two different museums; however, they were reunited in 2019 at the Cape Ann Museum (see article here theartnewspaper.com). Once again in this painting, masterful handling of sea and clouds can be seen. Particularly of interest are the colors with which Homer enlivens the sky. He fills the sky with pinks, violets, blue-grays, and golds, which all serve to represent the fight between sunlight and storm clouds. He handles the waves in a very solid manner, using the force and weight of oil paint to carry his message of foaming waves set against stormy skies.

Homer’s “stuttering” in marine painting began after a visit to Gloucester, Massachusetts. He became quite accomplished after his stay in England in a Northumberland seaside village (1881-1882). The change in his work was noted upon his return to the U.S. with it being said that he had moved into “high art.” That high art along with his knowlege as an illustrator and mastery of watercolor led Century Magazine to send him to the Caribbean in 1884 to illustrate an article, “Midwinter Resort,” designed to entice people to take winter vacations in the Bahamas, Bermuda, and other Caribbean locales. Certainly his beautiful renderings helped make their appeal. Here his skills came to the fore in a different way, as the lightness of the crystal blue Caribbean called for a lighter treatment. Enter Winslow Homer, the watercolorist.

Salt Kettle, Bermuda by Winslow Homer, 1899. Watercolor. National Gallery of Art. Hover over image to magnify.

Here we can see quite a contrast in the way the paint expresses the scene. As opposed to the stormy heavy waters of the Atlantic as they slap the shores of the New England coast, the waters here around Bermuda are clear and light. The colors chosen by Homer for the sea and for the sky are rather the same as though one is just a continuation of the other. The stark white of the Salt Kettle houses grabs the eye right away as the brilliance of the white captures the brightness these structures have in the sunfilled environment. The watery reflection adds to it to make those houses an eye-catching counterpoint to the blue of sea and sky. Speaking of the sky, Homer does not give up the use of his color variations for the clouds. Just as in the paintings of the northern seas, there are pinks and subtle gray-violets in those clouds, counterbalanced by the pink and gray in his representation of the sands.

Sloop Bermuda by Winslow Homer, 1899. Hover over image to magnify.

Sloop Bermuda has much the same technique. The sky and the water share in blues, with the sky tending more toward a grayish blue. The indication is that a storm may be brewing, though the pink in the clouds indicate some distant trace of sunlight muted to this soft pinkness by the building storm. Once again, the center piece of the painting is white, a sloop with its sails being taken in. The focal point of the white boat is aided by its white reflection in the water, water with touches of the gray of those threatening clouds. Homer’s use of watercolor for these paintings gives them a fresh quality, like a breeze off the warm waters of the area. The fluidity of his brushwork creates with a few strokes the idea of moving waters. One can feel the boat bob in the sea as those billowing clouds continue to form.

The Water Fan by Winslow Homer, 1898/99. Watecolor over graphite. Art Institute of Chicago. Hover over image to magnify.

Winslow Homer started his career as an illustrator. As such, he used graphite pencils to precisely draw the figures and other things in his illustrations. Homer carried that technique over to his watercolors by drawing in graphite and then painting over it. While the sky once again is very fluid with clouds moving rapidly in the distance and the sea waters ripple gently in free form, the boat and the young man are quite precisely and accurately presented. This combination of the fluid and the precise creates a contrast that has visual punch. The viewer can focus on the narrative of the superbly represented young fisherman going about an ordinary task and still feel the movement of the sea and sky that surround his activity. Solidity and fluidity work hand-in-hand to make the viewer sense all the elements of the scene.

Canoe in Rapids by Winslow Homer, 1897. Watercolor over graphite. Fogg Museum. Hover over image to magnify.

This same technique of using watercolor over graphite is seen here in this painting of two men on a canoe in a rapids. The men and their canoe are solidly represented in an environment that is complete fluid. Not only do the waves peak and roll, but the treatment of the forest is loosely done with one tall tree that seems to move in the wind. The rigidity of the men’s backs indicates that they are threading their way through these rapids carefully with their attention fully focused. The white caps of the waves are multicolored in creams and pinks, and streaks of blue exist amid the turbulent white.

Eastern Point Light by Winslow Homer, 1880. Watercolor over graphite. Princeton University Art Museum. Hover over image to magnify.

This beautiful piece shows the power of that use of graphite to give the appropriate tones of gray to the night sea and sky. The color palette is simple, blue, gray, white and blackish gray. In this sea of deep blue-gray waters matched by a similar, slightly lighter sky, the balancing contrast in white comes from the moon and its reflection on the water. The light of the moon even highlights a deep blue tone in the ocean as it is more of a guiding light for the boats than the far distant lighthouse on the land beyond the schooner that sits in that moonlit water. It is a simple painting that captures the romance of the sea which Homer obviously felt deeply.

Homer would spend the last 25 years of his life in his home which overlooked the sea in Prouts Neck, Maine, painting the sea and becoming the greatest American painter of the 19th century.

For more on Homer’s career and to see one of his greatest paintings, The Gulf Stream, go to “Winslow Homer: Life and Death Upon the Waters – The Gulf Stream” in the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com.

Other interesting articles on Homer include: “Watercolors of the Caribbean by Winslow Homer” byronsmuse.wordpress.com “Winslow Homer (1836-1910)” an essay by H.Barbara Weinberg of the Metropolitan Museum metmuseum.org For his complete works, go to Winslow-Homer.com

All works used in this post are in Public Domain.

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle or go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com

Wine Tours for the Artsy Set

Artist Poster for Visit Calistoga. visitcalistoga.com

Well, there is nothing like learning from the masters, and that is what we can do if we pay attention to Winslow Homer’s artistic adventures in the Caribbean. He took the opportunity to show his skills in watercolor, as that medium was perfect for capturing the blues in the waters off the Bahamas and Bermuda. For those of us who paint and for all who are just lovers of art, there are ways to go to different locales, participate in unusual art offerings, and enjoy tasting the local wines and foods.

Of course, the natural place for those of us in the U.S. to start is California, where we find the Three-Day Artists’ Itinerary proposed by the City of Calistoga (see link above). It gives the details of a variety of places to visit, as well as lodgings.

In particular, for those who like to paint, the Mountain View Hotel has artists’ cottages equiped with painting materials (easels, paints, and brushes) so that those who are inspired by their surroundings in the beautiful Napa Valley can create their own paintings of this memorable area.

The Jessel Gallery presents works by local artist and allows visitors to take watercolor classes as part of their visit. visitnapavalley.com

The area along the valley’s Silverado Trail offers another possibility in a four-day tour called Napa Valley for Art Lovers, which focuses on the art works in the area, as well as the wine and food. One’s locus is the Auberge du Soleil, high in the hills overlooking vineyards, where after a hard day’s art and winery touring, one can settle into the comfort of a Mediterranean style cottage and dine in a world class restaurant.

Hahn Vineyards in Monterey. Photo credit to Connie Belle carpe-travel.com

Of course, while Napa and Somoma Valleys are well known, they are not the only wine producers in California with lovely valleys and beautiful local scenery. The Monterey Penninsula has both vast stretches of inland fields with vineyards and the beauty of the Pacific Ocean as found in Monterey and Carmel-by-the-Sea. Carpe Travel says it best when it states, “Monterey Wine Country: Go for the Chardonnay and Stay for the Pinot.” The title of that article gives you a strong suggestion about what the most celebrated wine varieties of that area are.

It is well known that Carmel is a village filled with beautiful vistas and charming shops and art galleries. In “Paintings and Pinots: Art and Wine in Carmel-by-the-Sea,” Amy Hertzog presents the many different opportunities to enjoy the art and the wine of the region. (seemonterey.com)

If one wants to drive south along the coast of Big Sur, down to the Santa Barbara area, another place of beautiful vistas, one can visit the Santa Ynez Valley and go painting in the vineyards. There are scheduled events throughout the dry season (May – October), and if the scheduled events don’t fit your itinerary, you can arrange a private painting session. artspotonwheels.com

French Escapade offers painting tours of France, Italy, Spain, and Belgium. frenchescapade.com

Now with COVID-19 restrictions loosening, there is always the possibility of going overseas on a painting or art touring trip. French Escapade has something for every artistic dreamer. From online classes in its Virtual Interactive Workshops to Plein-Air Painting Workshops in Europe and California (Santa Barbara). Of course, these excursions include gourmet food and wine just to round out the experience.

Uniworld Boutique River Cruises Floating Paint and Wine Cruises

Lastly (at least for this post), why not paint and taste wine and great food while taking a river cruise? Uniworld Boutique River Cruises brought back its Floating Paint and Wine Cruises in June of 2020. Their boat, the River Queen, cruises the Rhine River, which flows through a variety of areas producing famous wines, think Moselle, Gewütztraminer, and Riesling. And, oh by the way, there are also fabulous castles on the Rhine which can be seen as one cruises, paints, and enjoys the fruits of the vine. See cruiseweb.com.

Whether it is doing some painting yourself or just being an art enthusiast in general, there are lots of interesting ways to be artful and experience the joy of wines and good food. Bonne peinture et bon appetit!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Art History C.S.I.: What Happened to Nefertiti’s Eye? Plus Wine Among the Ancients.

The Bust of Nefertiti by the royal sculptor, Thutmose, c. 1340 B.C.E. Hover over image to magnify.

Yes, the left eye is missing and the question remains why? Did the royal sculptor, Thutmose, leave that for the finishing touch but never got to complete it? Did the eye pop out when the statue fell from its shelf and into the sands? Was it a subliminal suggestion about the nature of the queen? Did she have an eye disease that destroyed the left pupil? There are theories upon theories, some more likely than others and some improbable but possible. One thing for sure, the members of that royal court drank wine, as did much of the ancient world. Of Art and Wine susses out information on both the eye and the wine.

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Artemisia Says, “Me Too,” plus Wine and Cheese.

Allegory of Fame by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1630-1635. Hover over image to magnify.

For most of recorded history, Fame has been seen as a purely male achievement. From Ramses II and his overpowering statues at Abu Simbel to Napoleon dramatically shown on a rearing white horse as he crossed the Alps, it’s the guys who got to leave triumphal images of their deeds whether they were actual triumps or not. Ramses II had at best a stalemate at the Battle of Kadesh, and it was his wife, Nefertari, who brokered the peace through a letter to the Hittite queen. Napoleon would not have so easily ridden into Italy had the black General of the Army of the Alps, Alex Dumas, (yes, father of the famous writer of the same name) not done the heavy lifting to clear the way.

In the painting above, a beautiful, mature woman, richly dressed, and holding a trumpet as a symbol of her much heralded fame, looks off to the side. She has no need to stare the viewer down. Instead we are able to fill our eyes with this woman’s subtle, sophisticated, socially cultured countenance and feel the inner strength and confident power of a woman who knew her own worth. She is someone who has survived some of life’s worst and lived not only to tell the tale but to reach heights of success and recognition unknown to the females of her day. Meet Artemisia Gentileschi.

Allegory of Painting by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1638-1639. Hover over image to magnify.

In this self-portrait (and as an artist, I marvel at how she captured that pose), the artist shows herself in the act of painting. While she holds her palette in her left hand and the paint brush in her right, these tools of painting are not the allegory of painting. Artemisia, the artist, as the figure doing the painting is the allegory of painting, personified. The road to get to the status shown in the two pictures above was anything but smooth, starting with an absolute tragedy and travesty that occured in her adolescence.

Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1653) was the daughter of a noteworthy painter in Rome, Orazio Gentileschi. Seeing that she was talented, her father allowed her to spend a lot of time in his studio where she learned many of her skills. The studio was frequented by a number of male painters. The presense of a beautiful young girl in that environment must have gotten her any number of comments and reactions from those men, many of them unwanted. Perhaps it was that which inspired her painting of Susannah and the Elders in 1610.

Susannah and the Elders by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1610. Hover over image to magnify.

For a little refresher on this Bible story, the leering, scheming men pictured here make unwanted advances to Susannah, a married woman, who expected to have privacy as she bathed in the garden of her home. Susannah clearly rejected their advances, so the two men accused her of adultery, a crime punishable by death. (In other words, if they couldn’t have her, no one could.) However, the prophet Daniel had the wisdom to have the two men questioned separately, which resulted in two completely different versions of what had happened. Susannah’s virtue was vindicated, and the two old men were put to death. (For a look at three painted versions of this theme, two by males and one by Artemisia, go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com)

Artemesia’s painting of that tale shows Susannah’s distress at this indecent proposal and the old men, one whispering in the ear of the other as they scheme to have sex with her. What things Artemisia must have heard in her father’s studio from all those different men. One of the men, Agostino Tassi, who some say was hired to tutor Artemisia, wound up raping her. Her father demanded that Tassi marry her, which Tassi did not, so her father did an unusual thing, he brought suit against Tassi. The whole thing was quite a sensation because of the unusual public airing of this misdeed. Tassi was convicted and a punishment set, though it was never carried out. Tassi went on to steal some of Orazio’s paintings and claim them as his own. Such is the life of a complete bounder. Meanwhile Artemisia had to endure having thumbscrews put to her fingers to see if she were telling the truth. Then she was married off to another painter, Pietro Antonio de Vicenzo Stiattesi, a long name that barely shows up in the annals of art history. Stiattesi moved the couple to Florence, where it was Artemisia who became the favorite painter of Grand Duke Cosimo de Medici.

Judith Beheading Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1612-1613. Hover over image to magnify.

Orazio Gentileschi had been much influenced by the paintings of Caravaggio. Artemisia was to continue in that tradition. Her adherence to that chiaroscuro style was put to dramatic effect in this painting of the biblical heroine, Judith, who would slay the Assyrian general who threathened her people. In this painting Judith’s maidservant restrains Holofernes’ hands while Judith, actually quite calmly, severs his head from his body. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold. Artemisia served her revenge in a painting that was destined to become one of her most famous, never at all flinching artistically from the blood and gore.

Self-Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria, 1615-1617. Hover over image to magnify.

The self-portrait above shows the artist portraying herself as St. Catherine of Alexandria. The story is of a noble, well-educated Christian princess (notice the crown she wears) who rebuked a Roman emperor for his cruelty. Since she was known for being extremely brilliant, the emperor thought to take her down a peg by arranging a public debate between Catherine and 50 philosophers. She won. However, the emperor showed his cruelty by having her tortured on a spiked wheel (shown in the painting) and then beheaded. In this painting the artist shows herself holding a long dried palm frond, known in the apocryphal Bible stories as the Palm of the Martyr. It is easy to speculate that the artist at this stage of her life was still feeling the anguish of her experience with Tassi and the humiliation which she here turns to spiritual triumph. The painting was taken out of the National Gallery in London in recent years and sent on a tour of businesses, doctors’ offices, schools, libraries, etc. to introduce the viewers to the art of this famous female painter. (For more see the post in the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com)

Artemisia went on to paint in London with her father Orazio, where her painting was well received, adding to her growing celebrity. From there she went with her husband to Naples, which may not have been her favorite location, but where she had success nevertheless. She died there in 1653 and is known in art history as the greatest of the women painters of the Baroque period, as well as a great painter all around. However, it is worthwhile to go back to those days when she was painting out her anger about what had happened to her and compare her version of the story of Danaë and the Rain of Gold to the same theme painted by her father. Briefly Danaë was another princess, whose father did not want her to fall in love, so he locked her away. However, the god Jupiter fell in love with her and invaded her sequestered chamber as a rain of golden coins. Artemisia painted the story in 1612, and a few years later in 1621, her father, Orazio painted the same theme.

Danaë and the Rain of Gold by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1615-1617 Hover over image to magnify.
Danaë and the Shower of Gold by Orazio Gentileschi, 1621. Hover over image to magnify.

Quite a different feeling, don’t you think? In the father’s version, Danaë seems to be welcoming Jupiter, as she must have realized she was being visited by a god because of the presence of the winged putti. In Artemisia’s version, Danaë has her eyes closed seemingly unaware or just uninterested in the fall of golden coins, which are being collected in the folds of the raised skirt of her maid. The Getty Museum paid 30.5 million dollars for Orazio’s painting at a Sotheby’s auction in 2016. To present Orazio’s painting for sale, Sotheby’s commissioned a female filmmaker, Pamela Romanowsky, to bring the painting to life. See here a short video interpretation of Danaë and the Shower of Gold by Orazio Gentileschi. youtube.com. Meanwhile, Artemesia’s version is in the Saint Louis Museum of Art, Saint Louis, MO.

While the short video is indeed a beautiful version of the story and one that goes well with the painting, we all know what Jupiter did. Artemisia knew, too, and painted her own tribulations around such events for all the world to see. Her life, though, stands as a reminder that the worst can be survived. Perhaps that is the reason for that side-eye glance in her portrait of Fame. This woman knew a thing or two.

All paintings used in the post are in Public Domain.

Articles used for this post provide further information on the life of the artist: “Artemisia Gentileschi, Brilliant Baroque icon.” artuk.org
“Artemisia’s Money: the Entrepreneurship of a Woman Artist in 17th century Florence.” www.academia.edu “Make It Rain Gold Coins, Gentileschi’s $25 Million Danae at Sotheby’s” barnebys.com.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine and Cheese: Just Like Love and Marriage.

A selection of wine and cheese pairings

We’ve all seen those couples. You know, the ones that blend so harmoniously together. Or those who seem to be total opposites, yet they work very well with one another. Wine and cheese fit into the category of the wonderful couple. Though just as with those other couples, selection is all important, and in the case of wine and cheese, we have to do the selecting.

First, let’s get a few basics out of the way. When it comes to consuming wine and cheese together in a civilized way (yes, I know the desire to wallow in a rich cheese can be nearly overwhelming, but restrain yourself), the best approach is sip-bite-sip. In other words, start with a sip of wine. Then have a bite of cheese followed by another sip of wine. This works well to keep the palate balanced, as many cheeses dry the mouth, making it necessary to wet the mouth again with the wine.

Next comes the issue of “chemisty,” that term so often used to refer to the magic that happens between certain couples. In terms of wine and cheese, it all boils down to levels of acidity or sweetness in the wine and levels of fat and flavor strength (mild to strong) in the cheese. One of the old adages about pairing wine and cheese is “What grows together, goes together.” This bit of wisdom comes from France, a country known for its wine and for is many cheeses. Former president of France and its WW II leader of the resistence to the Nazi occupation, Charles de Gaulle, once said, “How can you govern a country with 246 varieties of cheese?” Now, of course, it is closer to 400 varieties. However, that perspective is an interesting insight into both the pairing of wine and cheese and into French culture in general.

A goat cheese trio with toppings. Photo credit Valerie Brunmeier fromvalerieskitchen.com

Since France is one of the leading producers of both wines and cheeses (that’s the grow together, goes together part), one favorite kind of cheese from there found on cheese platters everywhere is goat (chevre) cheese, which comes in lots of varieties. My personal favorite is Valençay, which has a smoked rind. Since goat cheeses tend to be pungent, the hands down favorite wine is sauvignon blanc. Its acidity cuts through the taste of the fat in the cheese. However, you can fight pungency with pungency by serving a sémillon blanc.

Stacks of cheeses including Brie and Camenbert. Photo credit to Jez Timms on unsplash.com.

Brie and camenbert are two favorites for cheese platters. Brie can come in double and triple cream versions, so the fat content is high. Its taste is a lot milder than that of camenbert, which is also creamy but with a pungent smell and flavor. With these you break out the Champagne (or other sparkling wines). Since Champagne is often used for toasting before sitting down to dinner, should you choose to have a little appetizer also, these cheeses work well with cold cuts. The salts, the cream, the fats, all wash away with a good swig of bubbly. And for the camenbert in particular, a light unoaked chardonnay works nicely with camenbert’s strong taste. It’s a case of opposites attracting one another. One can also experiment with pinot grigio or pinot noir. While many wine experts do not favor drinking red wines with cheeses, pinot noir is a very drinkable red wine that pairs well with most foods including camenbert.

Washed rind cheese, another favorite from France. Photo credit fullofplants.com

Washed rind cheeses are also common in France. They come encased in a outer skin made of hardened cheese. These cheeses tend to be aromatic and go well with gewurtztraminer or pinot gris. Some of these cheeses are reblochon, munster, limburger, and Stinking Bishop. Rich white wines work well, and one can always fall back on pinot noir. Actual hard cheeses like gruyere, asiago, gorgonzola, and emmental are salty and have higher fat, but a rich oaked chardonnay or an aged white rioja counteract the effects of the salt and fat to balance the palate and wet the mouth again after the drying qualities of these cheeses.

Roquefort cheese, the most famous of the blue cheeses. Photo credit to chefsmandala.com

Finally we come to one of the more challenging cheeses, the blue cheeses. Yes, they are made of mold, but the good kind – penicillium, the one that helps us fight off diseases. Most are made from cow’s milk, but the famous roquefort comes from the milk of a ewe. Penicillium rogueforti is mixed into the milk or curd, and the whole concoction is left to mature in caves. Yes, there is a société of producers who create the cheese in dark, damp, chilly caves. It sounds horrific, but it tastes wonderful. Seventy percent of the world’s roquefort cheese is made by seven companies in that société. Blue cheeses are notoriously strong; however, the stiltons, roqueforts, and gorgonzolas just need a sweeter wine to pull their punch. That is where a sweet riesling or muscat come in and above all, sherry from Jerez in Spain.

Now you have the basics of what wines go well with what cheeses. With this you can avoid combinations that make each other taste bad. While this blog is dedicated to wine (and art), I do not want to leave the beer drinkers out of this conversation because beer goes wonderfully well with cheddar cheese. Of course, for those who indulge in hot dogs covered with cheddar, you earthy types already know this. However, as a lover of Champagne and hot buttered popcorn, I just wanted to show that Of Art and Wine is not too frou-frou to get down with some other good tasting combinations. Bon appétit!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming soon: Water, Waves, and Winslow Homer, plus Wine Tourism.

Salt Kettle, Bermuda by Winslow Homer, 1899

Winslow Homer is one of America’s great artists, most particularly when it comes to watercolor. Homer made many of his best watercolors as part of a contract that was to promote winter holiday tourism in the Caribbean islands. It worked. Tourism isn’t just for finding sunny beaches. It is for finding great wines, too.

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A Woman Painting Against the Odds, plus Wine Cocktails.

Women in art can be hard to find. Even in our day, their names are fewer than those of their male counterparts. However, there have always been those brave ones who wanted to honor their gifts outside of the home, where women’s craft and artistry were traditionally seen. The Dutch Golden Age and the Baroque Era offer two great female painters who claimed public recognition in a male dominated field, even against the odds. Let’s take a look at one of them, Judith Leystar.

Judith Leyster self-portrait, presented to the Haarlem Guild of St. Luke, 1633. Hover over image to magnify.

Now, what might one think of the woman in this picture? She is obviously very talented, as we can see in the fine painting of the palette, the chair, the clothing, and that intricate and elaborate lace collar. She is evidently quite properous and pleased with the work she does that brings in the money. We see a carefully painted representation of the artist in her studio. Yet, it is clear that she probably would never do a day’s work there dressed in these velvets, wearing that purest of white lace collars and those gauzy, diaphanous cuffs with lace trim. (Oh, how one misplaced dab of oil paint would ruin those.) No, she is doing her Golden Age Dutch thing: showing her prosperity. The joy on her face, however, is more pleasing than what you see on those somber paintings of the members of the various Dutch guilds, who were just prosperous traders. Leyster makes and markets her own work and is rightfully proud of her achievements.

The Dutch Golden Age, which lasted for most of the 17th century, was a time of great wealth and prosperity, which produced a booming market for artwork. The Dutch, while wanting to maintain their Protestant values, hence their use of the black and white clothing so often represented in their paintings, still wanted the world to see their wealth and how happy they were about it. Into this milieu was born Judith Leyster (1609-1660), 8th child of a weaver and a brewer. The brewer changed his name to go along with his beer and bar business, which was called Leyster or Lodestar. His daughter, Judith, would later sign her paintings with JL and a star.

Leyster showed early talent and was allowed to study with several local masters, one of whom may have been Frans Hals, the most important painter in Haarlem. As can be seen in the painting above, Leyster was not only talented, but also confident. Notice how she smiles at the viewer with her eyes focused directly toward all who would see her. She shows her pride in what she is doing, making this painting that would allow her to be the only woman painter accepted into the Guild of St. Luke in Haarlem. Her painting career had started in earnest in 1629 and with her acceptance into the guild in 1633, she could set up her own studio and take students. This she did, and when Frans Hals poached one of her students, she sued him and won. (The court ordered Hals to pay a fine, which he did, but he kept the student.)

Judith Leyster, The Proposition, 1631. Hover over image to magnify.

While Leyster had a fondness for painting figures enjoying life, playing music, etc., she also was known for emphasizing morality and good behavior. Some of her paintings show women who give indication that they are more than willing to be tempted. In the painting above, however, we see a woman who sits fully intent upon her sewing, paying no attention to the man beside her. She is dressed simply and modestly. Her foot on the footwarmer indicates that she prefers that to any warmth that the man might offer. His hand is extended with gold coins in it, but that does not turn her head. The lighting in the picture which is from the long flame of the lamp and the hot coals in the footwarmer is in keeping with a trend started by Caravaggio toward dark environments lit by a small source of light. The woman is in the center with the man off to the side, leaning in and even touching her shoulder, but to no avail. The setting is minimal, as there are no background elements in this painting as one might see in a Vermeer. The rather blank environment even makes one wonder: Where did this guy come from? Whatever the case, he is out of luck.

The Young Flute Player or Boy with a Flute by Judith Leyster, 1635. Hover over image to magnify.

This is one of Leyster’s finest paintings, toward the end of her active career. It again has a simple background, this time with just one character, the boy. He looks up toward a light source, perhaps coming from an upper window. A viewer might wonder what has called his attention. Did the sound of his flute attact a bird to add its song to that of his flute playing? His face is partially in shadow, rather similar to the shadows cast by the violin and the flute hanging on the wall behind him. The walls are painted in somber grays with a touch of pale violet that play tonally off of the color of the boy’s coat, which is a subtle, velvety brown. The light focuses on his face, highlighted by that white ruff, on his hands, and on the beautiful instruments on the wall to the right side of his head. Leyster was known to be a music lover, and in this painting, she shows another such person, all alone with his instruments, piping out a tune for whoever or whatever wants to listen.

The Concert by Judith Leyster, 1633.

She is here in the middle of this piece called The Concert (1633). The man on the left is the man who would become her husband, Jan Miense Molenaer, whom she married in 1636. The one on the right is a friend of the couple. Her husband had a larger clientele than she did, though technically he was not as fine a painter. They shared a studio, which means they used the same models and props. This may explain why some of her work has been attributed to him. Leyster’s life became involved in managing properties, helping her husband in business and rearing five children. With a full plate of domestic duties, her art production declined.

In the 1640s, she did some wonderful drawings of tulips for a Tulip book. Obviously producing botanical-like drawings of tulips was much less expensive and time-consuming than setting up a scene with live models. It probably fitted better with her household duties, which included raising those five children.

Tulip by Judith Leyster, 1640

Judith Leyster had recognition during her lifetime as a substantial and talented painter. However, after her death, her work was often attributed to her husband or to her old frenemy, Frans Hals. It is only in recent years when paintings were cleaned that her simple signature of JL with a line leading to a star became visible. That prompted art historians to begin to consider her work again. It is wonderful and encouraging to women artists to see her work come to light and be valued again. It is a treat for the art lover to be able to see and appreciate her painting, knowing that it is receiving its proper due.

There were, of course, other women painting in the 17th century. Probably the most important one was Artemisia Gentileschi, but that is a story TO BE CONTINUED…

Paintings used in this post are in public domain.

The sources used for this article come from my art history notes from a course in Golden Age Dutch Painting taught by Mme. Chantal Duqueroux, Université de Temps Libre, now retired lead historian of Avignon’s Petit Palais Museum.

“Judith Leyster,” The National Galley of Art nga.gov

“Judith Leyster, Biography and Legacy” theartstory.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

It’s summer. It’s hot. You Need Wine Cocktails!

Something Cool to Drink. Photo credit to Alevision.co on unsplash.com

They are called “spiritless cocktails,” but that does not mean they are soulless. Wine cocktails have plenty of soul; they just don’t have hard liquor (spirits). As we get into this, let’s have a few house rules, shall we? First of all, never use any fine wine for a wine cocktail. That bottle of aged cabernet that your uncle gave you when you graduated college or to celebrate your wedding is not to be used for wine cocktails. It might indeed make the whole thing taste better, but the beauty of an aged wine (or for that matter any expensive wine) is its taste, and how it works with the food you serve with it. Do not lose that experience by mixing it with fruits and sodas, etc. Use table wine and other ordinary, inexpensive wines, only. What you add is going to make the flavor; the wine provides a delightful light alcohol lift. Okay, now we are ready to go.

EASY MIXERS

A Xherry Kalimotxo

For those of you, who like me, want your kitchen to always look perfect, ever ready for that House and Gardens photo shoot, therefore, heaven forbide having to do anything messy like cooking, these are wine cocktails for you – er, us. First from the Basque region is a real original, the Xherry Kalimotxo (Cherry Calimocho). It is simply 6 ounces of cherry coke and 6 ounces of Rioja or Temperanillo wine. Saludo! If you are not into Spain, go to Venice and have a Bellini. Just blend chilled peaches until smooth and juicy, pour into a glass with some champagne or prosecco and say ciao bambino to the kitchen. If you are fond of sorbet, then put a couple of scoops of raspberry sorbet into an open mouth champagne glass and add rosé wine. Voilà!

Now a word about something that many may not know is a wine: Vermouth. Yes, friends, though we think of it being in cahoots with gin, it is actually a wine, a fortified wine. That means it has been infused with brandy and herbs and spices to aromatize it. It is strong, yes. You can drink it straight, if need be, as it was originally created for “medicinal purposes.” However, for our purposes, we will mix it with soda and add slices of orange or lemon or lime (your choice). Photo credit to Gaby Yerden on Unsplash.com

WINE SPRITZERS

Spritzer cocktail with white wine, mint and ice, decorated with spiral lemon zest

Yes, this is the all-time summer favorite. It is another that is simple enough not to muss up the kitchen. It is wine, ice, and whatever fruit twist you want. It could be a few strawberries, raspberries, or just twists of lemon zest. The idea of flavoring the spritzer with different types of berries can be handled in a unique way by using berry wines. Yes, you can get raspberry, blueberry, rhubarb wines and add and stir chilled soda, or prosecco if you want an extra zip on a holiday or weekend. Cranberry wine with orange slices and a touch of cinnamon plus club soda is nice even when it is not Thanksgiving or Christmas. Take a look at all the variations made by Emily Wines on Mixology 101, youtube.com.

LEAST BUT NOT LAST

Watermelon Wine Slushies from thecreativebite.com

Those of us who were around in the ’80s remember those horrible sweet canned spritzers, which some might call fortified soda pop. Some of us got around that by making slush or slushies. Slush was really just partially frozen wine. The trick was not to leave the bottle in the freezer too long, as you don’t want wine leaking out or exploding from the build up of ice. Of course, overly cold wine kills the taste, but forgive us, for we knew not what we were doing. However, these days there are all sorts of wonderful recipes for slushies made from of all kinds of chunky fruit, ice, and wine mixtures. One good place to consult is The Wine Slushie Guy who has a list of recipes thewineslushieguy.com

LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Red Sangría from jocooks.com

It is impossible to leave any discussion of wonderful summer wine cocktails without mentioning this international favorite, sangría. Americans discovered this in 1964 at the New York World’s Fair; however, the drink’s origins date back to about 200 BCE. In those days, wine was the drink that killed the harmful bacteria in the water. (By the way, the Ancient Egyptians used beer for the same purpose.) Mixing it with fresh fruits just gave it more variety and made it more healthful. The Internet is full of recipes for every kind of sangría possible. I give the link here for a delightful white wine recipe from The Spruce Eats. thespruceeats.com

For other recipes and websites with delicious summer wine drinks look at this post, “Monet’s Lily Ponds and The Last of the Summer Wine.” ofartandwine.com, and remember to always drink responsibly. Here’s to Summer!

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

COMING SOON: Artemisia Says, “Me Too,” plus Wine and Cheese.

Allegory of Art by Artemisia Gentileschi

The painting above is a self-portrait of 17th century Italian artist, Artemisia Gentileschi. Her story is one of fame, fortune, and misfortune. Yet, through it all she became the most famous of the women painters of the Baroque Era.

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The Delirious Domestic Disorder of Jan Steen, and the Wine Trade.

The Dissolute Household by Jan Steen 1663-1664. Hover over image to magnify.

The Dissolute Household, yes, that is a good name for the scene in the painting above. Raucous merrymaking is going on, as well as a few other things. The buxom lady of the house sits with one foot on the crumpled page of an open book – so much for high culture. Near the book is an overturned backgammon board with a lute precariously propped up against the board, which stands on end. Nearby on the floor is the detritous of this gleeful binge of consumption, a broken wine bottle, what appears to be a rudimentary time piece, and a plate of ham being eyed by the family cat. The lady of the house meanwhile has her head tilted back in the direction of the maid who is pouring milady a fresh glass of wine. With the wife’s head turned away, the grinning hubby, plays fiddling fingers with the maid whose other hand pours milady’s drink. Another woman (a nanny?) sits nodding off at one end of the table, while her naughty charge tickles her neck from behind. Curtains from the window and a drape from the bed hang in a haphazard way having been flung up to get them out of the way. A young boy, standing by a large bowl of fruits, has his attention drawn to the window, where the hand of a man just outside is inserted as if to beg for food. Welcome to the embarrassment of riches!

The Dutch Golden Age, that glorious period in the 17th century (1609-1713) when Dutch traders had a combined fleet of 10,000 ships engaged in the spice trade, among other less savory trading activities, is known for its great painting. This is the age of Rembrandt, Vermeer, Rubens, Claesz, and many other artists who all chronicled what art historian Simon Schama refers to in his book of the same name as “the embarrassment of riches” that was the wealth of the Netherlands. However, wealth has many sides, and one side seems to have a lot to do with the spoils of wealth and its temptations. That is where the paintings of Jan Steen come in.

Card Players The comfortable interior of a house with people playing cards by Jan Steen, 1660. Hover over image to magnify.

The house presented in this painting is so much better maintained than the one first presented here. However, there are still little treacheries and indiscretions going on. Front and center in bright light is a young woman whose stare invites us into the painting. She looks at the viewer with the calm ease of someone who knows she is going to win, as a man is tempting her erstwhile competitor, the young male card player, with a glass of wine. That young man gives his cards a pensive and rather nervous stare as he considers his bet. I’d say he might as well at least enjoy the wine, since the woman he is playing against seems to be the mistress of aces. She holds the ace of hearts in her left hand, the ace of clubs in her card hand, and has somehow gotten rid of the ace of spades, which lies on the floor. Meanwhile in a room at the back of this house, a man has his arms around the waist of a woman, perhaps to urge her to sit upon his lap. A woman dressed in black sits at the table but has her back turned to the viewer. She is completely engaged in what another woman is showing her, while a man (a Jan Steen self-portrait) regards what she is being shown. The family dog, normally a symbol of loyalty and protection, has gone to sleep on the floor, indicating that there is no fidelity or protection in that house regardless of how nice it looks.

Beware of Luxury by Jan Steen, 1663. Hover over image to magnify.

Here in another riotous household scene, once again we are in the land of plenty, as there is food on the table and on the floor, along with beer vessels, hats, books, and whatever else gets easily tossed aside. The animals, in this case a dog on the table and a pig that has come in from outside, scarf up what food they find, while the humans are engaged in all kinds of other things. The elder couple on the right consist of a man who is a Quaker, indicated here by the duck on his shoulder (quacker, Quaker), and a woman who is part of a Catholic lay order where the women take a vow of chastity. They are trying to dissuade the young couple at the center of the action from their wine-fueled lust. The young woman sits with a wine jug hanging loosely in one hand while she tickles the area behind the man’s knee with her fingers. One can’t help but notice that while her hair is properly covered, her dress is off the shoulder with a low cut bodice. A nanny is once again asleep, while a little boy tickles her neck, and the baby, who has thrown his bowl on the floor, looks like he is about to send the spoon in the same direction. The message, Beware of Luxury, is Steen’s cheeky way of showing people giving in to their temptations, while at the same time indicating moral disorder through the disorderly condition of the house. For more detail on this picture, see this quick video called In Case of Luxury – Beware. youtube.com

The many guises of Jan Steen, as a reveller in the Dancing Couple, and as a lute player. All done in what must have been very merry years, 1663-1665.

For a Protestant society in which black and white were the appropriate clothing colors of the day, Steen in some ways walked a fine line. Rembrandt got heavily critisized for painting himself hoisting up a huge stein of beer while Saskia, his wife, sat on his lap, both of them with huge grins. They were seen as bragging about their good fortune. Steen often puts himself into his paintings as one of the revelers (see paintings above), showing his own love of such things.

However, he always managed to tell a cautionary tale even as he engaged in gleefully exposing the underside of all that wealth. He even painted his self-portrait in a traditional way, showing himself clothed in black and white and looking very much like a respectable, discerning citizen (see portrait just above).

Steen could also tell quite a story in very subtle ways. The painting below is known as The Mayor of Delft or The Burgomaster of Delft and his Daughter. However, as you will hear if you click the link to the Rijksmuseum website, it was discovered that the man was really Steen’s neighbor, a wealthy merchant named Adolf Croeser and his daughter, Catharina. rijksmuseum.nl

The Burgomaster of Delft and His Daughter, by Jan Steen 1655. Hover over image to magnify.

There is a lot to unpack in this painting beyond the beauty of the way the people and the setting are represented. Simon Schama in his book, The Embarrasment of Riches, described by its publisher as a work where Schama “explores the mysterious contradictions of the Dutch nation that invented itself from the ground up” (penguinrandomhouse.com), talks about this painting. Schama points out that this wealthy gentleman has had himself painted sitting outside his fine house, with his daughter sporting the latest fashion, done in luxury materials. He looks down toward an elderly woman beggar who leans on a cane with a child (a grandson?) beside her. The key thing is the paper he holds in his hand. That would be her beggar’s permit. Yes, if a resident of a town was in need, that person must get a permit in order to ask for money from other residents in the town, as if being destitute was not already bad enough. Her hand is outstretched, and the wealthy man holds her permit casually in his hand as he considers whether he will contribute or not. Steen’s painting certainly shows off the man’s wealth and the fact that he at least considered being generous, since charity is a Christian virtue. However, it also allows the viewer to see there were hard times for people as well, as not everyone was so well off.

In another story showing the contradictions in their society, Schama talks about what he calls a children’s riot. This happened in the mid-17th century when the city fathers of Amsterdam, one of whom was Dr. Tulp (yes, the one Rembrandt painted in The Anatomy Lesson), decided that the little cookie dough, sugary dolls that were a favorite Chrismas treat for kids were really idolatry and should be banned. Well, throngs of hysterical children having meltdowns in the marketplace made them rethink their new law. They wisely decided that while the ban was still law, there would be no punishment. Contradictions upon contradictions, but what else can you say about a country that built itself on land reclaimed from the sea.

Jan Steen (1626-1679), who helped found the Guild of St Luke for the city of Leiden, along with another of the famous genre painter of the era, Gabriel Metsu, had quite a life. His career as a painter ran alongside his work often as a tavern owner, a job he took on when the art market was depressed. Through it all, he became one of the most famous genre painters, focusing on those uproarious scenes of daily life. He, in a humorous way, communicated the contradictions of the life he saw around him, as well as his own see-saw between being an artist and a barkeep. He showed himself to be not only a skilled portraitist, but someone who could do still life and city scenes all equally well and in rich vibrant colors. Throughout it all, Steen rolled with the punches, painting, playing the lute, laughing, and giving in to the joys of good drink, music, and dancing.

Paintings used in this post are all in public domain.

Reference works are Simon Schama’s The Embarrassment of Riches, the Rijksmuseum (see link above), and “Jan Havicksz Steen” from the Museo Thyssen, (museothyssen.org).

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

The Embarrasment of a Rich Wine Trade

Dutch Ships in a Calm Sea by Willem van de Velde, 1665. Rijksmuseum.nl Hover over image to magnify.

So what do you do if you are a tiny country, welded together from seven different small countries, mocked by one’s bigger neighbors with such names as the Low Countries or even today, the Netherlands (a moniker for somewhere out there in the nether world) when those “neighbors,” in this case Spain and Portugal, cut you off from being a trade and distribution center? Well, you go direct. That is exactly how the United East India and the Charted West India Companies got their start. The painting above shows Dutch ships for as far as the eye can see bringing in the trading treasures that made the period between 1609 and 1713 the Dutch Golden Age.

Antwerp had been the original European distribution center for all kinds of goods, and was the center of Dutch commerce for a long while. However, when the Spanish ruled the Netherlands, it combined with Portugal to punish the Dutch by only using Antwerp for some supplies. They began operating their distribution network out of Hamburg, Germany, cutting the Dutch out. Of course, the Spanish and the Dutch danced a deadly tango for about 80 years with Spain occupying the Dutch lands and being as repressive as possible. However, the Dutch fought back with the same iron will that they had used to reclaim the land they lived on from the sea. They started their own direct trade to areas outside of Europe. Among the things they traded was wine.

Governors of the Wine Merchants Guild by Ferdinand Bol, 1663. Hover over image to magnify.

The Dutch looked to France for Bordeaux and Burgundy, which greatly helped the development of the French wine industry. They took advantage of their location to deal in Rhine wines from Germany. They dealt in wines from Greece and in Marsala wine from Italy. To whom did they sell? Well, to the wine starved of England, Sweden, and the Baltics. They also shipped wines (and spirits) to the Far East, mostly to satisfy the demand of those colonials who had stationed themselves there. As for their own population, they brought in sweet Rhine wines. In fact the taste for sweet wines lingers today, as the Dutch population prefers sweeter white wines to red wines. Rieslings, known for levels of sweetness and the sweeter versions of Gewurtztraminer are popular wines there.

However, they were not above manipulating the fermentation process by adding sulphur to stall the process and keep more of the sweetness. This trick was applied during the distruptions of the 30 Years War. The tendency to intervene in the process of winemaking seems to have continued. It was highlighted in a 2016 review exposing all of the odd things that could be found in some Dutch wines. The article ends with a promotion of Balthazar, Handpicked Wines, Home Delivered, as a way of ensuring quality. (See “Wine in the Netherlands, Getting It Right” dutchreview.com

While beer and jenever (Dutch gin) are the drinks of choice along with brandies, there is a growing interest in wines and wine making. Of Art and Wine treated this growing phenomenon in the April 10, 2020, post, “Carel Fabritius’ Beloved Goldfinch and Netherlands Wine.” An article by Cathy Huyghe for Forbes Magazine in 2017 gives a good overview of what is going on there in terms of winemaking (forbes.com).

Still Life with Silverware and Lobster, a Banketje, or Banquet painting by Pieter Claesz, 1641 Hover over image to magnify.

So yes, the good times rolled for about 100 years. Those white Rhine wines worked mighty well with plates of seafood, as shown here in Claesz’ painting. That is still a good choice today, especially the dry versions of Gewurtztraminer. As for the painting, this Claesz painting itself has something of an overwhelming aspect to it, as the table is filled to overflowing with foods, silverware, the big roemer wine glass, and a knife trimmed with a satin ribbon. It is another portrait of that embarrassment of riches, which, like all life and the items on this table, balances on the edge of finality.

For more on the Dutch Golden Age boiled down to a manageable-sized article, “The Dutch Golden Age” on the Britannica website is a good reference. britannica.com

“The Dutch Wine Trade in the 17th Century” by Aaron Nix-Gomez gives a good overview. hogsheadwine.wordpress.com.

Other articles used for this secton are linked above.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: A Woman Painting Against the Odds, plus Wine Cocktails.

Judith Leyster Self-Portrait, 1633

When the great master painters are spoken of, it takes getting to the 20th century before women artists get much mention. However, don’t be fooled. There were a few brave and consequential female painters back in the day. Of Art and Wine takes a look at one of the most notable ones from the 17th century, and in celebration of her courage and confidence (yes, it took that to do what she did), a look at wine cocktails.

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Marie Antoinette Lost Her Head Over a Painting, and Champagne.

Two versions of Marie Antoinette, 1783, done by Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun. Hover over photo to magnify.

Perhaps her husband, King Louis XVI, got it right when he made an observation about what went wrong for Marie Antoinette: “She was young and had no one to guide her.” That sad reflection from the persective of one who had lost his kingdom and would soon lose his head has a certain truth to it. The story of the paintings of the two dresses above certainly indicates that she sometimes “read” the public wrong. While one painting caused a major outburst of anti-royalist sentiment, the one meant to correct the faux pas only added insult to injury.

Caroline Weber, a Professor of French and Comparative Literature, is also a fashion historian. Her book, Queen of Fashion, What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution, goes into all the interesting details about the queen’s fashion journey through French history. Weber’s work is referenced here to discuss the incident represented by the paintings of these two dresses. This story not only involves the life of the queen but the life and career of another woman, the artist and Marie Antoinette’s favorite painter, Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun. And of course, the white muslin dress, called a chemise, plays its part in the drama.

Detail of Marie Antoinette in a Chemise, 1783, E. Vigée Le Brun. Hover over image to magnify.

One might reasonably assume that the queen was quite right to want to wear lighter, less formal, and easier garments when she relaxed at her private palace, Le Petit Trianon. In fact the queen had started wearing these lighter, less restrictive dresses a few years before this painting. Naturally, all of the ladies of the court, and after them the other women in French society, followed the queen’s lead and started wearing copies of her dresses. This radical change in fashion had two unwanted results. One was the democratization that came from a style which did not show any distinction in class or wealth, a shocking development in a society that once had sumptuary laws that forebade certain types of expensive clothing from being worn by any other than nobility. On the streets of Paris, it was said that one could not tell a countess from a courtesan. The other problem was the financial blow to the trade in fine cloth. The industry that provided the silks, satins, and lace that made up the elaborate gowns of the upper class, and those who aspired to be, was almost put out of business. As well, this muslin had to be imported, some of it coming from Austria, Marie Antoinette’s country of birth. That reminded many of the French that she was really a “foreigner,” whom many had never wanted as queen anyway.

Marie Antoinette’s pouf hairstyle with a ship to celebrate a naval victory, 1778. myhairdressers.com Hover over image to magnify.

The queen had already caused a disruption with her high powdered hair-do, the Pouf, that required lots of finely milled flour to hold it together. A group of poor women had even tried to storm the palace of Versailles during a severe shortage of flour, demanding that they be given the queen’s reserve of that precious commodity so they might make bread to feed their families. Obviously the queen was on thin ice. In 1783, with so many now wearing that simple white muslin dress, she decided she wanted to show her solidarity with the people. She had Vigée Le Brun paint her wearing one of those little white chemises and a straw hat, with an ostrich plume, of course.

For Vigée Le Brun (1755-1842), the daughter of a painter and the wife of an art dealer, this was yet another golden opportunity, as this painting would be shown at the Royal Academy’s Salon in Paris for all the world to see. Vigée Le Brun had been painting since she was a teen and at that early age had a little studio where she painted portraits to help support her family. Her successful little studio business was seized when it was learned she did not have a license. So she joined the Guild of Saint Luke to gain her license and continued painting and building her clientele.

Vigée Le Brun came into the queen’s employ starting in 1776, one year after Antoinette came to the throne as Queen of France. Vigée Le Brun was to paint 30 paintings of Marie Antoinette, but perhaps the most famous is the one of the queen in her simple white muslin dress. The painting was shown, and it simply enflamed the public. It was commented that the queen looked as though she were wearing her undergarments. The outrage was so horrific that another painting was made right away to replace the one of the offending white muslin dress. However, that portrait of the queen in her usual silks and satins failed as well, since it was seen as another reminder of how much money the queen was known to spend, a trait that earned her the title, “Madame Deficit.”

Vigée Le Brun went on to paint other portraits of Marie Antoinette. Especially noted is one of the Queen and her family. It was commissioned in 1785 by King Louis XVI himself. It was meant to show the queen in her maternal role. Noticiable was an empty cradle, which referred to the death of one of their sons. The queen is dressed in appropriate royal clothing but nothing over the top. Again the idea was to assuage the rumbling anger of the French public, which it did not. Meanwhile Vigée Le Brun, who was one of only 15 women painters ever accepted by the Académie Royale, became the first woman to ever be appointed painter to the French king, a great advancement in her career.

Marie Antoinette and Her Children, Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun, 1785-1787. Notice the empty cradle. Hover over image to magnify.

However, the Painter to the King was to run into her own problems with the public. Vigée Le Brun perhaps had given in a bit too much to showing women in natural poses, enjoying life and the simple pleasures of, for instance, motherhood. In the painting below, we see the artist’s self-portrait holding her baby daughter. She has a smile on her face that reveals – oh heavens – her teeth! This was widely condemned as something without precedent. Actually there was precedent, for even in the 14th century there are paintings of singing angels that show teeth, as well as the people in those rollicking 17th century scenes of domestic disorder by Dutch painter Jan Steen. However, Vigée Le Brun’s tendency to promote naturalism and the lush beauty of the happy women she painted seemed to really innervate the critics. Yet, that did not stop her from painting other pictures of lovely smiling women and their children. (See artsy.net article on how she scandalized 18th century Paris.)

However, those beaux jours came to an end, for in 1789, the Revolution began in all its fury, and those who had close associations with the royals, or in fact any nobility, were on the list of those who should be gotten rid of. Vigée Le Brun took her daughter and fled. When the various revolutionary committees came looking for her, her husband, who had stayed in Paris, simply said she had been called away to paint portraits in Italy. And so she did, taking on more royal patrons including Marie Antoinette’s sister, Queen Maria Caroline of Naples. She went on to other countries including to Austria and then to Russia, where she had great success and even found the Russian women wearing, of all things, the chemise. Her husband and several hundred other artists petitioned to allow her to return to France, but it was denied in 1793. The husband, in fact, had to divorce her in 1794 for his own safety, as her relationship to the former queen put his life in jeopardy.

As revolutionary times proceeded, Vigée Le Brun became something of a revolutionary herself, claiming a professional role for herself as a woman, as well as her role as a mother. This she states very clearly in the self-portrait painted in 1790, showing herself at the easel painting (portrait now in the Metropolitan New York metmuseum.org). Jean Jacques Rousseau, philosopher of the Revolution, claimed that men had certain natural rights, and Vigée Le Brun had logically claimed those for women too.

Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun went right on painting and receiving accolades. She did finally return to Paris in 1800, but found the court around what would become the Empire to be uncomfortable. She went off to England and found success in London, even taking on a criticism of her work by an English artist. She refuted his discourse point by point. Vigée Le Brun continued painting into the latest part of her life, even publishing her memoires (Mémoires Secrets) in 1837. Her work fell out of favor for a long time, but since 1980 it has been the subject of study, as she is one of the few women painters well-recognized in her own time. There is even a French film about her, now also in English Subtitles, The Fabulous Life of Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun.

As for the queen, her end at the guillotine is well known. However, she used clothing to communicate to the very last. During her “trial” she, as a widow, wore all black including a black bonnet to cover that once pouffed hair. It garnered her so much sympathy that the outfit was confiscated.

Yet, the queen managed somehow to go to her death in an all white dress, emblematic of the Bourbon lilies. As she rode through the crowds, this display of loyalty to the Bourbons of France began to gather sympathy with the mob. However, it was too late; she was executed.

So let this be a cautionary tale for us. Sometimes, whether for good or for ill, it is not who you know or even who you are; it’s what you wear.

Sources used for this post are “Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun Scandalized 18th Century Paris with a Smile” artsy.net Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun Life and Legacy theartstory.org The Pouf Hairstyle – Marie Antoinette’s Lasting Legacy to Hairdressing myhairdressers.com Queen of Fashion, What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution by Caroline Weber

The paintings are in public domain with attributions given to museums and websites when the information is available.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Champagne, mon amour!

A Coupe of Champagne Photo Credit to Ambitious Creative Co., Rick Barrett on unsplash.com

They say that Louis XVI drank 200 bottles of the stuff when he was doing his prison sentence in the months before his execution. And why not, after all France is the home of champagne, isn’t it? Well actually it may have been discovered (quite by accident, of course) in England! It seems that the English had been putting a bit of fizz into their wine some years before the French found out how to do this. (See bbc.com “Did the English Invent Bubbly before Dom Perignon?”) That fact was officially discovered and documented by a British scientist. English bubbly came into existence some 30 years before Dom Perignon made his “I’m tasting the stars!” comment about the wonderful drink he had just created.

Well, if the Brits “discovered” it, the French figured out what to do with it. Part of that meant developing a tasty blend of grapes, normally Pinot Noir, Meunier, and Chardonnay, grown in the region known as Champagne in eastern France. (A note: the little beauties in the picture here are champagne grapes, but lovely and sweet as they are, they are not what is put into the drink, champagne.) Then France claimed champagne as their own and publicized it. (Who says America invented marketing?) They also laid claim to the name, eponymous with the region where the grapes were grown, Champagne.

Obviously from the sad tale of how the British lost out on claiming this wonderful drink, once you get a good product, with a good story about a monk who (accidentally, of course) wound up tasting stars, you run with it, and the French did. They even took this so far that they made the other European countries sign a treaty that allows only the drink produced in Champagne, the region, to bare that name. All others are types of sparkling wines, Asti Spumante in Italy, Sekt in Germany, and Cava in Spain, and so on. The name became so precious that even different regions of France that produce sparkling wines cannot use champagne, but refer to their products as Crémant or by a method of production like Ancestrale. Now you might ask why do we here in the U.S. call our bubbly champagne? Well, contrarians to the end, we just didn’t sign the treaty.

Mme de Pompadour, mistress to Louis XV painted by Boucher and Marie Antoinette by Ducreux.

When it comes to controversy, the one over the use of champagne only for wines from that region is only the beginning. Quite a few tales exist about how the most celebrated form of the champagne glass, la coupe, came into being. Most stories center around the shape of the breast of one of the two women above. Most say that it was modeled on the left breast of Marie Antoinette, who adored the drink, claiming it to be her favorite (goes nicely with cake). However, the maitresse en titre (official mistress) of Louis XV, Mme. de Pompadour, has also been rumored to have lent her body part to the creation of the glass. There are even those who say that it goes all the way back to one of the most legendary beauties of ancient times, Helen of Troy!

While no one knows about Helen of Troy’s input, in terms of the two 18th century ladies above, sorry to say it, but the coupe was invented in England around the mid-17th century. When the aristocrates there began drinking sparkling wines, they wanted a different glass from what they used for beer and ale, so they created the open bowl glass. The French, however, had the name for it, la coupe. Oddly before the British aristocracy took up drinking champagne, it was a favorite drink of prostitutes, so breasts may still have been involved (see the article on The Useless Information Junkie site theuijunkie.com).

Needless to say with a history like that of champagne, there is bound to be more than one type of glass to serve the bubbly in. Take a more in-depth look at the types of glasses that can be used and what they do for the drink inside of them. Pay attention: there is a quiz at the end. Just click the link below.

Champagne Glasses

Naturally since champagne was Marie Antoinette’s favorite drink, there must have been one that she favored. As it turns out the founder of one champagne winery had a goal of becoming the queen’s favorite maker of champagne. Florens-Louis Heidsieck had that goal in mind when he started making champagne in 1785. By 1788 he had achieved his goal as Heidsieck’s champagne had become Marie Antoinette’s favorite. The Revolution came and went, but Heidsieck, which eventually became the Piper-Heidsieck brand we know today, is still tops. (See swsspotlight.com for the article “Tracing a Champagne to Marie Antoinette.”)

Of course, since the fame of Marie Antoinette seems everlasting, there have been a number of cocktails invented over the years in her honor. Some have cherries, and some are made with blood oranges (just Google Marie Antoinette Cocktails). I think the one that best fits Antoinette, who lightened French decor and loved her breezy chemise-style dresses, is the Sparkling Elderflower Cocktail. It is glamorous, elegant, sophisticated, and delicately sweet. In addition, it is made with a liqueur named for the famous Count de St. Germain, who was close enough to Marie Antoinette to tell her that a revolution was coming and that she would die in it. Quite the story that. For the recipe, see the article at shekeepsalovelyhome.com, “The Enchanting Sparkling Elderflower Cocktail,” by Genevieve Morrison.

So with elderflowers dancing in our heads and curiosity about what St. Germain liqueur tastes like, we leave the tale of the unfortunate queen and her white chemise dress, and that of her official portraitist, a woman artist who led her own rather fabulous life. Elizabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, a toast to you!

Photo of the Elderflower Cocktail from the website given above.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

COMING SOON: The Delirious Domestic Disorder of Jan Steen and the Wine Trade.

The Dissolute Household by Jan Steen, 1663-64.

Well, the title pretty much says it all, doesn’t it? One thinks of the 17th century Dutch as pretty strict protestants and maybe not much fun, except when trading up tulip bulbs to ridiculous prices. However, in what historian Simon Schama calls “an embarrassment of riches,” they really enjoyed their wealth by trading many luxury items, including fine wines.

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Oil Versus Water, a Look at Renaissance Painting and Wines.

Annunciation by Fra Angelico, 1440-45. Tempera fresco Convent of San Marco, Florence, Italy. Hover over image to magnify.

It’s lovely, isn’t it? What can you say? It is Fra Angelico! Though this is a fresco painted on the walls of the Convent of San Marco, it manifests all of the beauty and elegance of the elements that Angelico developed as a painter of miniatures under the tutelage of Lorenzo Monaco (1370-1425). It has been said that their work contained the same, “distinctive palette, unequalled in subtlety by any other artist of the day, in which colors are brilliant and myriad in hue, highlighted by thinly brushed filaments of white” theartstory.org. Guido di Pietro (1395-1455) became the Dominican monk known to us as Fra Angelico. He was a contemporary of Masaccio, Brunelleschi, and Donatello, and one of the greats of the early Italian Renaissance because of the fine quality and delicacy of his paintings. His work along with that of other fine artists, especially the painters of those wonderful frescoes associated with that time period, is what brought art historians to use the name Renaissance to distinquish it from all the “lesser” work known at the time, such as Gothic and the Flemish Primitives.

Wait a minute! Flemish what?

The Descent from the Cross by Rogier Van der Weyden, 1435. Hover over image to magnify.

This painting is now in the Prado in Spain. How it got there is a long story of war between the so-called Low Countries and Spain but interesting to note that when the gigantic Van der Weyden retrospective took place in Leuven, Belgium, in 2009, Spain did not let this piece leave its possession. (Did they fear getting it back?) Modern controversies aside, one cannot help but see a great difference in the detail in the painting technique, and not just the vibrant colors and the masterful composition, but just in the overall sense of volume and depth. But Van der Weyden was a Flemish “Primitive” and Angelico from the Italian Renaissance. Of course the real Renaissance (the Italian one) wins out as superior. Really? Well, the painters of that period, both north and south in Europe, had wonderful skills. What it all comes down to, however, is oil versus water, i.e. oil paint versus tempera. Let’s take a closer look.

Gabriel in Fra Angelico’s Annunciation (1440-45) and a detail of Mary Magdalene from Van der Weyden’s Descent from the Cross (1435).

Obviously both artists have a good comprehension of human, or in the case of the angel, human-like forms. However, the richess and volume with which the Van der Weyden is done seems years away from the flatter, stiffer, rendering of the Angelico. Admittedly Angelico did come from the tradition of miniature painting, and Van der Weyden only has one known miniature. However, the main thing is the type of paint used. Tempera, a water-based paint held together with a binder of egg, was the paint of the Italian Renaissance. It brought us those wonderful frescoes seen in Rome and Florence. Its colors could be absorbed into wet plaster where they have lasted for hundreds of years. It was the perfect type of painting for the warm, often dry, Italian climate. Whereas Van der Weyden, a northerner from what is now Belgium, lived in a wetter, colder, climate not amenable to fresco painting. The solution of those painters was to use oil paints on panels or canvas, and with that came a richness in detail and life-like volume that astounds us even today. To go deeper into this, do not miss this video clip where art historian Waldemar Januszczak goes into the composition of the painting above, calling this work his choice for the greatest painting of the 15th century. The Renaissance Unchained youtube.com.

Detail of clothing in Rogier Van der Weyden’s Descent from the Cross. Hover over image to magnify.

Van der Weyden has been called the Master of the Tear. Here you see one of the characters in his Descent from the Cross whose tears look so real that one almost wants to reach out to touch them. Again, it is the quality of oil paint that allows such well-defined reality.

Of course, oil painting did eventually come to Italy. It took a rather circuitous route through a variety of trading centers, but one painter, a certain Antonello da Messina, would show up in Venice in 1475 and capture the attention of one of the great Venetian painters of the time, Giovanni Bellini. It bears taking the time to really look at the difference the use of oils made to the paintings of this master of tempera.

Gabriel by Giovanni Bellini, 1465 in tempera and Doge Leonardo Loredan, 1501 in oil paint.

I must admit that Bellini’s Gabriel is my favorite painting of this Archangel. It sits high atop an altarpiece in the church Santi Giovanni e Paolo. The angel has wings in colors reminiscent of those used by Fra Angelico, and as this is a Venetian painting, Gabriel wears a string of pearls to crown his head, a reminder of the sea that surrounded La Serenissima. Yet, even though Bellini skillfully turns the torso of the figure to show both shoulders in order to give the illusion of depth, there is a flatness to the painting. Just compare it to the full-face, frontal portrait of the Doge, who seems to be a figure full enough to stand apart from the background, as though one could actually put something around him. His face and head look three dimensional, with the side of the head going into the background of the painting.

A detail of Loredan’s robe from Bellini’s portrait of Doge Leonardo Loredan, 1501. Observe the 3D quality of the robes. Hover over image to magnify.

Now, I certainly do not want to take anything away from the Italian Renaissance, which was glorious in so many ways, including the adoption of oil painting by many artists. The fact that oil could be painted on canvas, which could be rolled up for transport, became yet another feature that many artists took advantage of. That is how Leonard da Vinci transported the Mona Lisa to France. The frescoes and the tradition of fresco painting should be honored greatly. However, I do protest the wonderful work of the Flemish artists being called Primitive. One can see that it is clearly not that at all (nor by the way is Gothic art barbaric). I do think that art historians need to take a step back and not confuse their love of going to Italy, wonderful though that is, with its total superiority in art. There was a re-birth in the northern countries as well. The art history term Primitives to describe these painters’ works should be updated to Northern Renaissance.

Paintings used in this essay are in public domain. Reference articles and video are mentioned in the text of the essay.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

And now for some wine: Pinot Gris vs. Pinot Grigio. What’s all the fuss?

Bunch of Pinot Grigio grapes. Photo from finedininglovers.com

While we are on the subject of Northern Renaissance painters from the medieval duchy of Burgundy and their Italian counterparts, it is a good time to talk about wine grapes with northern and southern varieties: Pinot Gris (Burgundy) and Pinot Grigio (Italy). Your first question might be, but what about Pinot Noir? Well, genetic science has proved that the Pinot Gris and Pinot Grigio varieties are basically color mutations of the Pinot Noir grape. They are even sometimes called clones of the Pinot Noir, which sounds rather terrifyingly sci-fi. Pinot Noir was being grown in Burgundy in the middle ages. Its name comes from the pine cone like shape of the grape clusters and the dark color of the grapes. Pinot Gris grapes are bluish gray hence the term gris, which is French for gray. Pinot Grigio grapes are also bluish gray but can be pinkish and even rather white. They are grown in northern Italy, hence their Italian name grigio, which means gray.

The grapes are grown now in a variety of countries all over the world, but here in the U.S. the place to look at is Oregon. Oregon is known as a “monograpist” region, meaning it specializes in one grape, in this case Pinot Noir. The Pinot Gris that is made there is a medium-bodied wine that comes in a yellow color as well as a coppery pink, with fruit aromas. In contrast, the Pinot Gris made in California is much lighter, crisp and refreshing, but with a hint of pepper and arugula. As can be seen by the example just mentioned, the quality and type of soil and climate where the grapes are grown can make this difference. The French call this combination of things le terroir, and it is very important in winemaking. The Pinot Gris/Pinot Grigio grapes are extremely sensitive to le terroir, as it affects levels of acidity, fruit flavors, and aromatics. All of this is a winemaker’s delight, as having these kinds of possibilities as well as being able to choose stainless steel fermentation and/or barrel fermentation, allow for the artistry of the winemaker to be employed.

Glasses of wine. Photo credit finedininglovers.com

Pinot Noir got a special boost in the 2004 film Sideways where Paul Giamatti’s character declared it to be the most drinkable of wines and dished Merlot because his ex-wife liked it. The film and those comments reshaped the wine industry, suppressing sales of Merlot and increasing sales of Pinot Noir by 170% (See “The Sideways Effect” npr.org.) One positive thing that only adept wine consumers benefited from was the suppressed prices of top quality Merlot. Such are the continued fluctuations in taste, and how they affect the popularity of wines and their prices.

Shrimp Salad, a good dish to serve with Pinot Grigio. Free photo from pixabay.com

As for Pinot Grigio, “Dry: Is all you need to know” according to the article on finedininglovers.com. They pair it with light foods, like seafood, salads, and chicken. I say it is also quite tasty with cold chicken. To be avoided, however, are dishes with heavy sauces. Pinot Gris is more full-bodied and can be served with roast chicken, veal, pork, lamb and fois gras. Both wines are good for sipping, but the Pinot Gris has the added benefit of coming in sweet varieties that are good dessert wines.

For a little extra fun and information on a number of white wines, my go to as always is Madeleine Puckett of Wine Folly. I link here to her video on Pinot Grigio youtube.com. For those of us who are calorie conscious, her Infographic on Wine Nutrition Facts winefolly.com is easy to read, making it a great benefit to calorie counters.

So from Burgundy and the countries of northern Europe with their full-bodied paintings and wines to the delights of Italy’s lighter paintings and lighter wines, it is easy to see that the Renaissance in all of its manifestations left us with a legacy of great paintings to be enjoyed with a matching glass of great wine.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and     CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: The Painting that Cost Marie Antoinette Her Head and Champagne, Mon Amour

Portraits of Marie Antoinette by Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun in her muslin Chemise Dress and Marie Antoinette with a Rose, both in 1783. Guess which one caused the controversy?

Ah yes, Bastille Day is in July, so it is time to take a look at a seemingly simple thing that caused a great stir in pre-revolution France: how the queen dressed. More dangerous that the outrage over Obama’s tan summer suit, it became another thing that paved the queen’s path to the guillotine, and the artist was a woman! I imagine in the queen’s company, they might have both had her favorite drink, champagne.

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The Man in a Red Turban, and Riesling in Summer.

Man in a Red Turban, or Self-Portrait of Jan Van Eych, 1433.

This portrait like so many of Jan Van Eyck’s works is meant to tell us a story but in code. The artist plays coy with us by calling the painting Man in a Red Turban, as though the figure were someone unknown to the painter. At the bottom of the frame are letters saying (here a translation), “Jan Van Eyck Made Me, October 21, 1433.” At the top of the frame are letters saying in the best translation something to the effect of “As best I can,” or “All I can do.” Upon reading that, one might be tempted to think that the artist was being modest and humble. However, that straight-in-your-eye stare, the firm mouth, and no nonsense posture of the person in this portrait indicate that this is a person who knows his worth, regardless of name.

Françoise Gilot once wrote that Picasso spoke in “seductive enigmas,” and Jan Van Eych rather does the same thing but in painting. For instance, why the gigantic turban on this man’s head? Turbans, or chaperons as these large ones were known, were commonly worn by men in the early 15th century, and we see them in various colors on men in Van Eyck’s portraits. The brilliant scarlet of his large turban gives us a hint of the uncommon. Red was a very expensive color to manufacture in the 15th century. Before the Europeans knew about the Americas and the little red cochineal bug, red was made from the madder root, a plant which yielded rose madder and Turkey red. Not only was Van Eyck’s turban made from an expensive color, but its folds and twists suggest that it contained a rather large swath of cloth as well. While his other clothing was dark and somber, wearing this large, expensive, brightly colored item on his head told anyone who saw him coming that someone of substance was headed their way. Certainly by 1433, when Van Eyck painted this portrait, he was indeed a man of substance, as he was the court painter and sometimes diplomat for the Duke Philip, the Good, of Burgundy.

Van Eyck’s Eyes, a detail of Man in a Red Turban, 1433.

When Van Eyck says this was his best, he is not exaggerating. As a Valet of the Chamber of the Duke of Burgundy, Van Eyck held an esteemed position in court and in the town of Bruges where he lived. Having become part of the royal court in 1425, at the age of 35, he gained in stature and his works became immediately collectable, making his fortunes grow. It has been said that he even invented oil painting. No, that is not true, but he certainly did kick it up a notch. We see here the detail of the skin, the slight redness in the whites of the eyes, the reflection of light in the moisture in the eye, and that appraising stare. When he paints on the frame “Van Eyck Made Me,” he may as well be saying, yes, Van Eyck made Van Eyck and all of his successes. He wore his dignity and worth on his face, shown in detail in this portrait. And just to show how good was the “best” he could do, the words placed on the frame look like they are engraved into metal, though in fact they are just painted to look that way, an early and successful trompe l’oeil work.

Portrait of a Man with a Blue Chaperon, Jan Van Eyck, 1430.

This unknown figure is of someone who commission a portrait from Van Eyck, perhaps to commemorate an important event. It was not uncommon for paintings of the period to not have specific names, so it is not known to whom this relates. However, it is also more than a mere portrait. This man wears a very expensive head wrap as well, since it is colored blue, another very expensive color to create in 15th century Europe. His eyes do not engage the viewer of the portrait. Instead he looks off into the distance as if imagining something, which begs the question, what? There are two clues, both elucidated by Till-Holgen Borchert, a Van Eyck specialist and Director of Museums in Bruges. One clue is the little gold ring held in his right hand. It is in the style of an engagement ring. This man is going to ask some lady to marry him. The second clue is the uncovered ear on the right side of his head, which means he is waiting to hear a reply.

Now here is another man, but can you tell that his story might be different from that of the man in blue? He, too, holds a gold ring. He, too, has his right ear uncovered. However, there is nothing dreamy about his expression. He looks you in the eye and makes an offer, while listening and looking at the potential client. Yes, client. This is Jan van Leeuw, the goldsmith, and he is all about business. And since gold is metal, Van Eyck shows off his skill again by painting the frame to look as though it were bronze with a golden inset around the picture.

Van Eyck came from a family of painters. His older brother Hubert, younger brother Lambert, and sister Margaret were all painters. Hubert lived in Ghent where Jan joined him to work on one of the great masterpieces of European art, The Ghent Altarpiece or The Mystic Lamb. It was the finding and salvaging of this piece of art that the film Monument Men centered on, as it had to be recovered from Hitler and his regime. Hubert died during the production of the altarpiece, so Jan did the work to finish a considerable part of it. Lambert Van Eyck seems to have taken over Jan’s studio when the artist died in 1441. Margaret, the sister, was identified as a painter in 1568, long after her death, but nothing much is known of her life other than she never married and is buried beside her brother, Hubert, in Ghent. The celebrated Ghent Altarpiece is a work that more than merits its own space, which Of Art and Wine will take up at a later date, since this little essay is about some of Van Eyck’s portraits. However, it never hurts to have a glimpse of that wonderful piece.

The center panel of the Ghent Altarpiece or The Mystic Lamb, Hubert and Jan Van Eyck, 1432. Click to magnify.

Among Van Eyck’s most intriquing paintings is one that has become known by three different names: The Arnolfini Wedding, The Arnolfini Marriage, and The Arnolfini Portrait. It has become a riddle inside a mystery inside an enigma. However, a close look at the symbolism and the dates of the painting in relationship to the two Giovanni Arnolfinis has shed light on the painting’s purpose. For more see this web story: ofartandwine.com/web-stories/2618/

Jan Van Eyck was not just a master oil painter, but a storyteller of sorts, filling the viewer in on small details of the lives of those who came to him for portraits. Without being indiscreet, he left us clues to the lives of those who sat for him and in some cases, like that of the Arnolfini Portraits, created enduring mysteries.

Sources for this article are Jan Van Eyck by Till-Holgen Borchert, Taschen Publishing

The Stay At Home Museum. Episode 1: Jan Van Eyck, a video done by Till- Holgen Borchert youtube.com

Paintings used for this post are in public domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com. Her author page is at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com

Riesling, a Great Summer Wine

Riesling Grapes from Germany. Photo Credit to Luca on Unsplash.com

Riesling is one of the world’s most popular wines, and far be it from me to relegate it to summertime only. However, the crisp, dry, low-alcohol refreshment of a chilled glass of Kabinett Riesling is certainly a great wine to drink in summer. However, there is a lot more to this pride of the Rhine wine family, where its different types tell of the type of harvest the wine comes from, therefore, their level of sweetness. Yet, it is best to start at the beginning with a brief history of this grape and the wines that come from it.

Take a Rhine Wine Tour. expatexplore.com

Riesling appears along the Rhine River in Germany in the early 1400s. It became a favorite wine of the nobility who stocked their cellars with it. It was known to age well because of its acidity, with some bottles attaining an age of over 100 years. It became a great favorite for importation into to the “Low Countries” as Belgium and the Netherlands were called in Van Eyck’s time. It continued to be popular and really boomed in Europe in the mid-1800s. However, due to the political upheaveals of World Wars I and II, the wine fell into disfavor until the second half of the 20th century.

Bottles of Riesling. Photo Credit to Sandra Grunewald on Unsplash.com

You will notice on the middle bottle pictured above the word, “Trocken.” This is one of the labels that can be seen on bottles of Riesling. It relates to the harvest and the qualities of the wine. Kabinett, which I spoke of above, is rather low in alcohol (8%-9%), light and dry in taste and comes from the normal harvest. Spatlese means late harvest, which adds a subtle sweetness to what is basically a dry wine. Auslese comes from a select harvest done only in the best of the growing seasons and is dry and fairly sweet. Beerenauslese is literarlly a berry select harvest taken when the grapes are very ripe and affected by “noble rot,” which is described as a rot caused by a fungus, botrytis cinerea, which causes the grapes to increase in sweetness and develop flavors of honey and ginger in the wine. Trockenbeerenauslese produce the sweetest, richest, most expensive Rieslings made only in exceptional years. Eiswein, or ice wine, is made from grapes that have been caught in a hard freeze. The sugars are very high, but that makes for an exceptional dessert wine. Finally there is Sekt, which is a sparkling Riesling made both in stainless steel containers and in the traditional oak barrels.

Riesling with grapes. Photo Credit to cruisecritic.com

Now, there is no need to think that the only place to get Riesling from is Germany. It also comes from the Alsace region of France, which lies on the border with Germany and Switzerland. It has a drier more minerally taste due to the slate in the soil and the fact that the region is sunny. Austria produces Riesling that is grown along the Danube. It is quite dry, fuller bodied than the German Riesling and is said to have a “steelier taste” that its German cousin. Australia produces some of the driest of the Rieslings with a teeth-tingling acidity. In the U.S.A., Riesling is produced in California, but it is Washington State and the Finger Lakes region of New York State that produce the best Rieslings in the U.S.

Riesling has some interesting properties to consider. Though it is often considered the King of White Wines, as it works so well with spicy foods, comes in so many varieties, and can be aged, it does have a few peculiarities in taste. If it comes from a cooler climate, with well-drained soil and slate, it will have great aging possibilities. These qualities are what make the Rieslings of Washington and New York so appealing. Normally it is very aromatic, with notes of peach and citrus. However, there is another aroma that comes with Riesling, and that is of petrol. The higher the acidity, the more prominent the petrol smell. It comes from TDN, which is the short version of the half-line long name of the naturally occuring chemical that develops particularly in aged Riesling. The newer twist off caps on wine can allow this particular smell to become noticeable while the old fashioned cork bottles benefit from the cork’s ability to absorb the TDN and thus lessens the petrol smell.

Coq au Riesling, recipe by Christopher Israel foodandwine.com

Riesling is a food-friendly wine, with the lighter, dryier wines pairing well with light dishes like seafood and fish. The fuller-bodied Rieslings pair well with Asian food, spicy foods and fatty fish, like salmon. For a host of recipes of dishes that go with various types of Riesling, I am going to send you to Wine 101: Riesling on FoodandWine.com.

So grab a glass of this most delicious wine and come up with your own interpretations of Van Eyck’s work. You will definitely spend an enjoyable time doing that.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Oil vs. Water, a Look at Renaissance Painting and Wine.

Wine Corks by Remo Vilkko on Unsplash.com

No, you do not have to open that many bottles of wine to find out the differences between Gewurtztraminer and Pinot Grigio. However, you might want to have a glass of whichever is your favorite while you read about the oil paintings of the Northern Renaissance versus the tempera frescoes of the Italian Renaissance.

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The Painter of “Indecisive Colors,” and Côte de Provence Wines.

Dining Room on the Garden by Pierre Bonnard 1934-35 guggenheim.org Click the image to magnify.

Henri Matisse loved the work of Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947), buying his painting Evening in the Living Room, in a show of support for this artist whom he admired. Picasso was diametrically opposed, saying derisively that Bonnard painted with “a potpourri of indecisive colors.” And so it was in the world of painting in the early 20th century. Bonnard’s work was deemed unclassifiable by some in those days. He did not fit into any of the movements of the time. He was not a Fauve, nor a Cubist. He was thought of as perhaps a Post-Impressionist, but his work tended too much toward the decorative. That penchant for the decorative did help place him among the Nabis, a short-lived group that sought to emulate Paul Gauguin, was anti-academicism, and embraced the decorative. Intimism was another term applied to his work, because it focused on mundane household scenes. But by in large, he was outside of categories.

However, what is not understood in one age is often recognized as brilliance by another. So it is with the work of Bonnard. The Tate Gallery in London did a retrospective of Bonnard’s paintings in 2019 called, The Colour of Memory, which gave the modern public the chance to view this painter, acknowledged along with Matisse as being a pioneer in the use of color. That can be seen in the painting above in his handling of pastels and heavy primary colors. In fact, he uses the colors to divide the painting into two areas, a vertical of pastel pinks in the lower part of the painting, representing the table, and a horizontal of primary red, blue, and yellow in the upper part of the painting, representing the wall and the window.

Door Open onto the Garden by Pierre Bonnard, c. 1924 Click the image to magnify.

Bonnard’s colors can be dizzying, as we see here in Door Open onto the Garden. The eye is almost assaulted by the mixture of wild and conflicting colors. Once one calms down from the full frontal colors, it can be seen that the composition is as normal as that of any scene showing a part of an interior of a house, with the doors open to a balcony and a view outside. The trees are present as are distant white buildings and a blue sky. One can imagine the same set up in a photograph from a fancy magazine about life on the French Riviera. Except here the artist takes us on a magical tour into a heightened reality, where the placement of things is not as important as how they vibrate with color. Look at the bottom panel of the door. It’s shape is there, but that blue is not a solid single tone. It is mixed with what looks like scraped lines of gray, blue-violet, light blue, and pink. It stands in total contrast to both the reds and red-orange of the floor and close by the deep red-violet of the tablecloth and its yellow tray. Everything seems intense, which has the effect of making this ordinary scene shout at the viewer, “Hey, look at me!”

Strawberries, 1910 and A Bowl of Cherries, 1920.

Bonnard claims to have struggled with white. He covered his canvas, which often were just long pieces of canvas upon which he worked on several pieces at once, with a white ground. He saw white as the foil to other colors and wanted to use it rather like a watercolorist to illuminate the colors laid on top of it. He also liked to use it as a toned element in the parts of the canvas he left bare. We can see that in the painting of Strawberries, where the white tablecloth is a mottled combination of pale pinks and violets. The composition is interesting as the strawberries are fully shown, though toward the bottom of the painting, leaving an expanse of white tablecloth. The cup and a couple of other items are only partially shown and add both complimentary and contrasting color to the strawberries. In A Bowl of Cherries, the white comes from the china dishes and their reflections in the polished dark surface of the table. The white of those dishes also has little specks of color in them for a bit of definition, and one holds a piece of some yellow food item, again for a touch of contrast to the primary red of the cherries.

The Bowl of Milk c.1919 Pierre Bonnard 1867-1947 Bequeathed by Edward Le Bas 1967 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/T00936 Click the image to magnify.

Another aspect of Bonnard’s painting involves his representation of women as almost spectral figures. That can be seen in the Dining Room onto the Garden, (first painting above) where the figure of his wife and life-long model, Marthe, is almost a part of the wall coloring. Her face and head could almost be a waterstain on the wall paper. Here the female figure who carries a bowl of milk in her hand seems almost as spectral as this scene, which looks as if it were lit by moonlight. The woman who modeled for this piece was Renée Monchaty.

That brings us to the subject of his models. While he did have more than one model and seemingly had various affairs, there were two women whose history with Bonnard shows the complications that can happen between artists and their models. Marthe Boursin was Bonnard’s model from 1893 until her death in 1942. She met him while working selling expensive artificial flower arrangements in a Paris shop. She lived and modeled for him for 30 years until their marriage in 1925 and was married to him until her death. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Au contraire mes chers amies.

This painting is Nude in the Bath, 1925. It is a picture of Marthe, who was obsessed with bathing as a way to cure some supposed malady. This is one of the many bathing nudes that Bonnard did of his wife, who some saw more as his jailer than his companion. She was moody, reclusive, extremely jealous, and manipulative. In her first meeting with Bonnard, she claimed to be descended from Italian nobility. She seems to have left Bonnard briefly to marry another man in the late 1890s only to return to Bonnard after a few years, where she seemingly sought to keep him to herself.

(Notice in the painting above that there is another figure in the bathroom, someone wearing a slipper and robe. Just another example of Bonnard’s use of mystery in his painting, as though this were all part of a dream.)

Young Woman in the Garden by Pierre Bonnard, 1921-1947 (Notice how long it took to finish this piece.)

The painting above is one of Renée Monchaty, a model whom Bonnard met in 1921. He did a number of paintings of her and took her off with him for a trip to Rome, where they seemingly fell in love. Bonnard decided to marry her; however, Marthe did not take to that idea kindly after her 30 years of life with him. She went on a rampage through Bonnard’s studio, ripping apart all of the paintings of Renée that she could find. Bonnard did return to Marthe and decided to marry her, which he did in 1925. This devastated Renée, who took her own life shortly thereafter. The painting of the blond woman in the garden is of Renée and one of the few that Marthe did not find. Bonnard kept it for the rest of his life and only finished it shortly before his own death.

It is speculated that his long and troubled relationship to Marthe may have been the wellspring of his art. It may also be why he paints her often fading into the background (my opinion). On the other hand, Renée has a rather ghostly quality about her as well. Certainly Bonnard loved the comforts of his home which he painted often, though from memory. He did not sit in that dining room and paint it, nor did he do plein air. It did his painting in his studio, from his recollections. Memory, of course, has fuzzy edges, where things blend together, change tone, and become imprecise, perhaps indecisive? This may also play a part in the vagueness of these figures.

While Picasso said that Bonnard was just the tail-end of one era (Post-Impressionism) but did not move into anything new, Matisse called him a great painter. Personally, I am with Matisse on this one. Bonnard, far from being the “painter of happiness” as some call him because of those bright colors and charming domestic scenes of dining tables, gardens, and the like, is a painter who traveled deep into the recesses of his mind to bring forth a new way of looking at color, what it could represent, and how it affects the perception of objects and figures.

Here is one of his pieces which will leave this article on a lighter note but still amazed at his use of color.

Beaches and Bathing, 1921-1923 Click the image to magnify.

The articles used to prepare this post are as follows:

“The Colour of Memory” an exhibition at the Tate Gallery, London tate.org.uk “All the Heaven Allows” by Bruce Hainly artforum.com “Pierre Bonnard: The Bright Palette of a Tortured Soul” by Lara Marlowe, irishtimes.com “Eight Essentials to Know About Pierre Bonnard” tate.org.uk “Who was Marthe Bonnard? New Evidence Paints a Different Picture of Pierre Bonnard’s Wife and Model.” by Dr. Lucy Whelan, Durham University.

Paintings used for this post are either in public domain (1925 and before) or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of review and critique.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com

Bonnard’s Riviera and Côte de Provence Wines

Yes, this was my French hometown back in the late-1990s, Antibes, about a half hour from Cannes and Bonnard’s Le Cannet.

The area east of the Rhone River in southern France is Provence. It has a number of wine-growing regions which include Côte de Rhone, the area near Avignon, while the area that sits between the southern mountains and the Mediterranean is called Côte de Provence and that includes an area not far from where Bonnard lived, Bandol. The whole region in France is known as Provence, Alpes, Côte d’Azur or PACA.

The main thing about this region is le terroir, that French term that includes not just the soil where the grapes are grown, but the climate and in a certain sense even the wine-making culture of a specific region. The mountain valleys in this southern region provide two important things, sunshine and warm days for the leaves of the vines and their maturing grapes, along with cool nights and lots of water for the roots of those vines. The soil tends to be limestone, which is excellent for the growing of grapes, and to top it off, there is a viticulture history that goes back centuries and is focused on the specialty of the region, rosé wine. Of Art and Wine has already taken a look at Provence’s affinity for rosé in the article “Straight Out of Provence: Cezanne and Rosé Wine.” There is mentioned that extremely distinct rosé produced in Tavel. It’s rich deep amber color has almost made it a distinct category of wine in and of itself. In contrast, Côte de Provence rosés tend toward the palest of pale pink.

Rose wines made sugar-free. Cheers!

Rosé is an invention of Provence, and no it is not just white wine mixed with red wine. (You get detention after school for thinking that!) America unfortunately went through a period where rosé was thought of as a cheap wine to swill on a hot summer day, where one could put the bottle in the freezer for a while and then drink the wine with its particles of ice as Slush. Yes, I have sinned. I did this in the 80s like everybody else. However, that was before I lived on the Côte d’Azur, so I have been redeemed. Making good rosé requires years of experimentation and specialization.

Côte de Provence rosé is made from four different grapes: 45% Cinsault, 35% Grenache, and 15% Syrah, and sometimes 5% Mourvèdre. These grapes tend to be dark-skinned grapes, and it is leaving those skins on for just the right amount of time that produces the pink color of the wine. The juices taken from the grapes is fermented in stainless steel containers to preserve the taste of the grapes. However, 8% of the Syrah grapes are fermented in oak barrels to enrich the natural flavor but not overwhelm it with the buttery taste that can come from oak. The whole fermentation process takes a short time, and the wine is meant to be drunk young.

This palest of pale pink rosés is Domaines OTT, Chateau de Selle. It is primarily Grenach grapes with Cinsault and Mourvèdre to add fruitiness and softness. Domaines OTT produces the most famous and some of the most expensive rosés, with the top price being around $50.00. Domaines OTT has three locations in the area, each providing a different twist on the making of rosé based upon the specific terroir (there’s that word again) of the area where the grapes are grown. Their Chateau Romassan is made in the Bandol region in the Var where the mix of soil is sandstone, limestone, and marl. Their Clos Mireille is made on the Mediterranean coast where the soil has no limestone.

Just as a side line to the wines of Provence and to let you know about some of the 10% of wines produced there that are not rosés, let’s talk about Bandol. Bonnard lived in Le Cannet in the hills above the nearby city of Cannes, and the Bandol area is just to the west in the Department of the Var. However, Bandol wines and the way they are processed are well known in the whole Côte de Provence area. The grape used in Bandol is the Mourvèdre, which is a black-skinned grape that is high in sugar. The wine is aged in oak barrels for about 18 months, which differs from the much quicker process of making rosé. Bandol wine is a dark garnet color but has a velvety tannin giving it a smooth taste that does not bite. That is why this grape is used to tame the flavor of the grenache grapes used in most rosé production.

A perfect pairing of seafood from the Mediterranean and chilled pale pink rose

Well, the seafood doesn’t have to come from the Mediterranean, but a good Côte de Provence rosé is a must. Rosé is a food-friendly wine, so it can be paired with just about anything. It is great as a toast or part of an appetizer, but especially if you serve a sparkling rosé. You can serve cold cuts and soft cheeses, roast chicken or duck, spring lamb, seafood, and fish, especially a fatty fish like salmon. Serve the rosé chilled at 50 to 60 degrees fahrenheit and enjoy.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and    CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Man in the Red Turban and Riesling, the Great Summer Wine.

There he is, one of the greatest oil painters in history, and he lived in the 1400s! Jan Van Eyck was so well-known that the Duke of Burgundy used him on diplomatic missions, where the painter would arrive at a foreign court to paint but also to deliver messages. His painting, the Ghent Altarpiece, was the prize that the film Monument Men was centered around, as the brigade of art-loving soldiers worked to keep Europe’s art treasures from being destroyed by Hitler’s regime. Van Eyck was from Bruges, an area much in love with Riesling wine.

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Klee’s Colorful Operatic Painting, and Tunisian Wine from Cap Bon.

Senecio by Paul Klee, 1922. Kunstmuseum in Basel, Switzerland. Click image to magnify.

Sometimes referred to by an alternative title, Head of a Man Going Senile, this painting, more commonly known as Senecio, was done by Swiss-German artist, Paul Klee, as a bit of humor. Supposedly it is a portrait of an artist-performer created by Klee to represent the shifting relationship between art, illusion, and drama. In it, however, one can also see Klee’s response to the African art that had so captured Picasso, Braque, and others in the early 20th century. It focuses on geometric shapes, a flat appearance, and the use of eye-catching color. Much has been made of the treatment of the eyebrows, where the right one is a semi-circle in black, while the left is a triangle of white sitting quizzically like a small pyramid over the left eye. The vibrant colors range from soft pink for the jowls, to strong red eye balls, and on to a range of oranges and yellows to complete the hairless head. Senecio is actually the name of a plant from the Daisy family. The name in Latin means “Old Man.”

Paul Klee (1879-1940) came by his humor, his love of color, and his appreciation for African art through a background of music. His father, who was a music teacher, was proud to have a son who was so accomplished as a violinist that he was invited to perform with the local music association (Bern, Switzerland) at the age of 11. His parents saw a future for him in music, but alas, as a young man, he rebelled against that and headed toward the plastic arts. As an artist he was known to draw very well though his early works lacked a sense of color.

Hammamet with its Mosque by Paul Klee, 1914 metmuseum.org

Klee did music and drawing in his years after having studied art in Munich. He joined with painters Franz Marc and Vassily Kandinsky in the Blue Rider (Blaue Reiter) movement in 1911. He was exposed to Cubism and abstract art by Robert Delaunay in 1914. However, it was his trip to Tunisia in 1914 that opened his soul to color. The brilliant light of the Tunisian sun on the wonderfully colored buildings and the blue waters of the Mediteranean inspired him to search through his many talents to reach a goal, which he stated as creating a style that connected drawing to the realm of color. In this he was not unlike another famous artist influenced by the colors of a city on the sea. Tintoretto, whose world was Venice, kept in his studio a sign saying, “The drawing of Michelangelo and the color of Titian” as a reminder of his desire to master both.

Klee is associated with a number of early 20th century movements. He participated in Expressionism, Cubism, Surrealism, and Futurism, working with oil paint, watercolor, ink, pastel, and etching, all the while developing his mastery of tonality and color. Take a look at Black Columns in a Landscape, 1919.

Black Columns in a Landscape by Paul Klee, 1919 metmuseum.org Click image to magnify.

This is a picture of a park that sits on the banks of the River Isar in Munich, Germany. Klee’s painting is in watercolor, a perfect choice of medium for capturing delicate tonal variations in color. The use of warm pinks, cool blues, and soft earthy browns, yellows and green give the artist a range of colors to represent the elements in the park and city, with the blue of the sky and the river to partially surround the images. The black and brown columns, but especially the black ones, stand as abstract representations of buildings, but are also a good counterpoint to the soft pastel colors.

In the Style of Bach by Paul Klee, 1919

This painting probably started as Klee normally did, with a dot or a doodle. He laughingly called this approach what happens when you “take a line for a walk.” It is really a type of musical score, only instead of black music notes, it uses a crescent moon, stars, plants, and symbols to create the references to Bach’s fugues. Bach was known as the master of counterpoint in his musical compositions. Here we see Klee balancing dark and light in a similar way. The Austrian poet Rainier Maria Rilke wrote in 1921 that he guessed, “Klee was a violinist because his drawings often seemed transcriptions of music.”

In 1920, Paul Klee became a professor at the famous Bauhaus (1919-1933), a German school established by architect Walter Gropius with the idea of combining crafts and fine arts to create work that was elegant yet practical, a combination of aesthetics and function. That school became a major force in modern architecture and design, and it was where Paul Klee continued his exploration of color theory, shown in his development of the color wheel.

Paul Klee Color Wheel Notes from The Notebooks of Paul Klee – the Thinking Eye monoskop.org Click image to magnify.

Kelly Richman-Abdou has a wonderful piece at My Modern Met on Paul Klee, as a music-inspired artist mymodernmet.com in which she quotes from a work called Bauhaus 100 saying Klee, “developed his own color theory based on a six-part rainbow shaped into a color wheel,” Bauhaus100 explains. “He placed the complementary colors in relation to movements that interact with one another, which shows this theory is based on dynamic transitions.” Richman-Abdou goes on to explain how music played a key role in the use of color and the avant-garde direction that abstract art took. (Click the link above for the article.)

Polyphony by Paul Klee, 1932 Kunstmuseum Basel, Switzerland. Click image to magnify.

It is said that Klee could “improvise freely on a keyboard of colors.” Here in this pointillist style piece, Klee expresses in color harmonies the definition of polyphony, which is the blending of different melodies and harmonizing them with one another. It shows in physical representation his color theory, which has complimentary colors making dynamic transitions from one to another. Klee created a number of works known as his Operatic Series, which were based on works such as Offenbach’s Tales of Hoffman, Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and J.S. Bach’s fugues.

His lectures at Bauhaus even included notes with musical references as part of the script. His work, Cooling in the Gardens of the Torrid Zone (seen here on the left) is a great example of a musical drawing. For an excellent look at Klee’s relationship with music and painting, Ursula Rehn-Wolfman’s article “Paul Klee – Painting and Music” is an great overview of his career and its influences, interlude.hk.

Paul Klee left Germany after the Bauhaus was forced to close in 1933 because the Nazi government felt its work to be communist. Klee’s work was seen by the Nazis as degenerate, so he left Germany for Switzerland. Even in Switzerland where he was born, he did not receive his citizenship (yes, even those born there must apply for citizenship) until after his death because his works were looked upon with cultural suspicion. Six days after his death in 1940 from schleroderma, a debilitating wasting disease, the Swiss govenment granted him citizenship. Klee left behind a body of some 9,000 pieces of art work, proving indeed that what he had claimed about himself after his visit to Tunisia was true. “Color and I are one. I am a painter.”

Articles used for this blogpost are from the Interlude website article, “Paul Klee-Painting and Music” by Ursula Rehn Wolfman at interlude.hk and “How Music Played a Pivotal Role in the Colorful Avant-Garde Direction of Modern Art,” by Kelly Richman-Abdou on My Modern Met at mymodernmet.com

Paintings by Klee are in public domain with several offered by the Metropolitan Museum in New York as open source items.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com

Tunisian Wine from Cap Bon

Ruins of Carthage from Planetware planetware.com article by Jess Lee Click image to magnify.

Tunisia and wine? Yes, and since early times. One must remember that the Carthaginians, whose capital and home base was on the north coast of Tunisia, once ruled the seas and the trade in the western Mediterranean. They transported goods all over that area, and among the goods they shipped were great quantities of wine. When the Romans, finally after many battles, conquered Carthage and set out to destroy it forever, including sowing salt into its farmlands and burning its libraries, there was one 26 volume work that was spared. That was the work on agriculture by a writer known as Mago (or Magon), the Father of Farming. It covered farming techniques from North Africa to Lebanon and included the wisdom of both the native Berber farmers and the ancient Phoenicians. It substantially raised the level of Roman viticulture.

In modern times, wine production in Tunisia may come as a surprise since one thinks of Tunisia as a Muslim country, therefore, dry in terms of alcohol. The country does battle with this since Islam does forbid alcoholic drinks. However, Tunisia still moves toward being a modern country, so alcohol is not prohibited. However, obtaining it may lead one to either very expensive luxury hotels and restaurants or rather seedy, disreputable bars. The fact still remains that Tunisia has a ancient history of wine making and even with the loss of some of the techniques and resources brought by former French colonists, Tunisia’s wine industry continues to continue.

Harvesting grapes from Neferis Vineyard in Cap Bon, Tunisia Photo credit AFP globaltimes.cn

While one thinks of Tunisia as being the Sahara Desert, its northern coastal region has a perfect climate for viticulture. Cap Bon is the place where 80% of the wine from Tunisia is produced. Les Vignerons de Cartage Vieux Magon or Old Magon from the Winemakers of Carthage is in fact the name of a best-selling wine. Les Vignerons de Cartage is the cooperative of wine produces that control about 2/3s of the lands used for growing grapes in the Cap Bon region of Tunisia. In total there are around 80,000 acres of vineyards in Cap Bon, which as its name suggests is a good area. This northern region which faces the sea has the climate not dissimilar to that of southern France in Provence and Languedoc. The grapes grown are the same as those in France, Grenach, Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot, along with that favorite of white grapes, Chardonnay.

The main focus remains to be the reds. However, with that similar climate to southern France, Tunisia also produces a respectable rosé. The Vieux Magon mentioned above from Les Vignerons de Cartage has an AOC listing as Mornag Grand Cru and is a white wine that runs around $16.00 per bottle.

In recent years, post the Arab Spring, Tunisia has begun to focus on wine tourism. In an effort to create a complete tourist experience, the vintners have begun to work with local bed and breakfast owners near the ancient ruins of Dougga to offer package tours of these impressive ruins and the nearby vineyards with tastings of their wines. The head of the Vignerons (Winemakers) see this type of tourism as the future of this region and a way to get Tunisian wines better known. We can only hope for their great success.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: The Riviera’s Painter of Indecisive Colors and Côte de Provence Wines.

Dining Room on the Garden by Pierre Bonnard, 1923. Guggenheim Museum, New York City, NY

Yes, the French Riviera is beautiful, and Pierre Bonnard’s work will not let anyone forget that. Beauty and color in ever beneficient sunlight. Add a bit of Côte de Provence wine, and one is close to paradise.

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Goya’s Maja, the Duchess of Alba, and Sherry from Andalucia

The Clothed Maja, by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes 1798-1805 Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain. museodelprado.es Click to magnify.

This painting seems rather tame for our day, though the look in the model’s eye has a bit of “come hither” to it. Many art historians propose Manuel de Godoy, 18th century Spain’s Prime Minister for King Charles IV, as the man who commissioned this work of his then mistress, Pepita Tudó. Given the dates of the work and the face of the woman, though not exactly Pepita but passable, that assumption seems to fit. However, there has always been a bit of a problem sustaining that theory completely when comparing this later work with the original maja, The Naked Maja, done between 1797-1800. For a good view of The Naked Maja, I shall send you to the Museo del Prado web page on that painting museodelprado.es.

While the face is the same and again not completely identifiable, the body of the naked version is smaller. The pose is relatively the same, but of course, the frontal nudity plus the direct gaze of the model were indeed shocking for that time. Frontal nudity was for those loose-living Venetians (Titian’s Venus of Urbino, 1534) and even still caused pearl clutching in 1863 when Manet’s Olympia was shown. Here is where the controversy lies. The heads of the majas seem to have been refashioned. Some say it was because Godoy married another woman, so wanted to hide the face of his former mistress. However, since the naked version was painted earlier, perhaps in 1797 during Goya’s stay at the estate of the Duchess of Alba, it is also speculated that the duchess had the face changed to conceal her identity. Years later in 1815, the Spanish Inquisition wanted to get to the bottom of the source of these naughty commissions, so Goya was called before the Inquisitors to tell all. However, his reply is unknown.

Self-portrait of Goya 1800-1801 and Portrait of Maria Cayetana de Silva, the Duchess of Alba by Guillermo Ducker, 1805

So here they are, the artist and his most famous model, María Cayetana de Silva, Duquesa de Alba. Seeing them posed here in respectable postures, one still feels a bit uneasy. The duchess’ hair, which was quite a mane during her lifetime, is painted here with a few proper curls on top of the head and long uncurled straggles falling down her neck. This contrast continues with the tight-lipped mouth in relationship to the direct penetrating stare of the eyes. It looks as though she is holding back something. Goya gives us a side-eye, as if to say that he knows more than he will tell, or perhaps that he is up to something. Certainly that was probably the case, when in 1796, he left his wife behind in Madrid to go to the far southern area of Spain, Andalucía, to the Sanlúcar estate of the then newly widowed duchess.

Goya had already painted this piece, The White Duchess, before his visit to Sanlúcar. The duchess was known to circulate through many levels of society, including visiting the studio of Goya from whom she commissioned art. Even before he did this full-length portrait, she had come by his studio one day to have him paint her face. Goya is quoted as saying, “…I certainly enjoyed it more than painting on canvas, and I still have to do a full-length portrait of her.” (Whatever was he implying?) Known as one of the most beautiful women in Spain, one can imagine that he did enjoy looking so closely at her and having her lovely face in his hands.

For a closer view of this painting and the comments made by Goya, go to eeweems.com for “Goya: White Duchess.”

The Black Duchess by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes, 1797.

This painting shows the duchess in mourning, as her husband, a cousin to whom she had been married when she was 11 years old, had just died. However, her mourning outfit has a tale to tell also. Her dress is that of the flamboyant young women of the streets of Madrid, known as majas, a word that sometimes stood in for mistresses. The duchess, who was an only child, had always had a willfull nature and one not to be hindered by the high status coming from her title and extreme wealth. She was known to disquise herself in one of these maja outfits to go out among the ordinary people and become just someone in the crowd.

However, there is more to this picture. One sees the duchess pointing down to the ground at her feet. This part of the painting had been painted over, but in a cleaning of the painting in the 20th century, writing was revealed. She is pointing to words, traced in the sand, that say, “Solo Goya” or Only Goya. As well, the two rings she wears on the forefinger and middle finger of her right hand are inscribed with the names Alba and Goya. This painting was done in 1797, a date also given for The Naked Maja, and was painted during the time that Goya spent at Sanlúcar consoling the widow. It is obvious that The Black Duchess held special meaning for Goya since he kept the painting with him right up until his death in Bordeaux, France, in 1828.

The Duchess of Alba and La Beata and La Beata with Children, both 1795 by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes. museodelprado.es

The two pieces above show that Goya had intimate knowledge of the household of the Duchess even before his long stay at Sanlúcar (1796-1797). In these two paintings we see the duchess’ dueña (an older woman chaperon) who was so religious she was called La Beata (the Blessed or the Pious One). The old lady is having the bejesus scared out of her by the duchess in one view. In the other, La Beata is holding on to someone for dear life as the duchess’ adopted daughter, María de la Luz, and a little playmate tug at her skirttails. (María de la Luz, whose parents had been slaves, was the only child of the duchess and inherited much of her adoptive mother’s personal wealth. While the family estates and titles went to other members of the Alba clan, María de la Luz and the duchess’ servants received generous amounts of money upon the duchess’ death.)

This all brings us back to who modeled for The Naked Maja. Goya may not have told anything noteworthy to the Holy Inquisition, hence the lack of any recorded response. However, there has been enough uncertainty circulating about that first painting, the naked one, to keep suspicions alive about the model being the duchess herself. There are other tales of waywardness involving the duchess and her relationship with Manuel de Godoy, who seems to have also been Queen María Teresa’s lover (see Goya’s painting of the Spanish royal family in 1800-1801, in which the face of the young infante (prince) bears a remarkable resemblance to that of Godoy museodelprado.es). One legend says that Queen María Teresa ordered Godoy to poison the duchess after Alba insulted the queen by arriving at the palace with her female entourage all wearing copies of a necklace that the queen was wearing the original of. The duchess died supposedly of tuberculosis in 1802 at the age of 40. The suddenness of it, though, seemed mysterious, hence the rumors of poison. This rumor was proved wrong when the duchess’ body was exhumed and tested in the 1940s, showing that she died of meningitis. The idea of poison lingered, however, and got incorporated in the 1958 movie about Goya and the duchess, The Naked Maja.

While the movie is good ’50s kitch (I must say that Ava Gardner does the duchess’ beauty justice), I have a more personal reaction to the film. One scene was particularly memorable because it had the royal court coming to see their court painter’s new creation for the royal chapel of San Antonio de la Florida. While all the swells were gathered below, they looked up into the cupola to see the saint dressed in humble brown ministering to the poor, some of whom were looking down on the wealthy gathered there below. I thought of that scene a few years ago when visiting the chapel in Madrid, along with my classmates and our art history teacher from Avignon, France. What a rabble-rouser Goya was, and the Duchess of Alba along with him. She must have been there when the court got the shock of looking up to see all those poor people up there, above them. However, as time passes, things fall into place, and someone in the Spanish government in the late 1800s had the wisdom to bring Goya’s remains back from France, and bury them there in San Antonio de la Florida, the scene of some of his great paintings, and one of his great controversies. How perfect. Eso es!

The cupola at San Antionio de las Florida in Madrid, Spain by Goya, 1798. Click to magnify.

Paintings used in this article are in public domain. For more information on the paintings, follow the links given.

Other sources include “Goya: The White Duchess” see eeweems.com link above, and franciscogoya.com/naked-maja.jsp

For more on the life of Francisco Goya, visit The Art Blog at VernelleStudio.com for “Goya, the Other Spanish Bad Boy.”

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

The Sherry of Al-Andaluz (Andalucía)

The Montilla-Moriles wine region in Andalucia casaolea.com

The Spanish legend goes that Santa Lucía was sent off on a mission that led her to this part of Spain with the commanding words, “Anda Lucía!” or “Go forth, Lucía!” which then became the name of this land. Actually it comes from the Arabic version of a name the Vandals gave to southern Spain, Vandalusia, the Land of the Vandals. Al-Andalus was the Arabic used for the regions of Spain ruled by the Moors, descendants of that combination of Islamic warriors (Arab, North African, and Black African) who invaded Spain in 711 CE. Now it refers to a smaller region in the southwestern part of Spain and is known for its fine wine and fine foods.

The Montilla-Moriles region is particularly famous for its fortified dessert wines, most particularly sherry, though it also produces a fine Moscato and Moscato d’Asti. Sherry is a fortified wine made from white grapes grown in and around the city of Jerez in Spain, but in other parts of Andalucía as well. Jerez is southwest of the Montilla-Moriles region, which is in the most northernly part of Andalucía close to Córdoba. Spain is famous for its red wines from La Rioja but also for its sherry. While sherry is not as popular these days as it was in earlier times, the history of its development is long. The Phoenicians brought viticulture to southern Spain about 3,000 years ago. The Romans took that over 2,200 years ago. However, it was the Moorish invasion that brought with it the use a the distillation process that produced both brandy and fortified wine. The word sherry comes from the Moorish name for a village called Sherish. However, the name is also associated with the town of Jerez.

Sherry bottles. Photo credit to sherrynotes.com

If you have been reading the posts on Of Art and Wine for a while, you know that any wine with an ancient past has a lot of variations that have been skillfully developed over the centuries. The same is true of sherry. While there are three grapes used in the making of sherry, the Palomino, the Pedro Ximénez, and the Moscatel, there must also be consideration for the special qualities of the terroir and micro-climates that can affect the taste of the wine, thus creating multiple versions of it. Sherrynotes.com does an excellent job of taking one through all these types and giving the significant features of each. I shall present two of them below.

Sherry was extremely popular in Victorian times. One of the most famous was Amontillado. Made from the Palomino grape, it can range in color from a deep golden to a deep amber. It even can come varigated (see the photo below). It is a dry wine with a complex blend of aromas, including hazel nuts, aromatic herbs and even dark tobacco. As you have probably guessed by now, Amontillado comes from Montilla, Spain. Of course, we know it is highly prized, just remember Edgar Allen Poe’s story, “A Casque of Amontillado.”

Amontillado showing off its varigated tones of gold. Photo credit to allwinesofeurope.com

Sanlúcar de Barrameda, the area where Goya visited the Duchess of Alba on her estate, is known for making a sea-scented sherry called Manzanilla. Sanlúcar de Barrameda sits on the Atlantic coast, and its lands run east toward the Guadaquivir river. It is a unique micro-climate that gives a touch of salt to the flavor of this sherry. Manzanilla also makes a wonderful cocktail. The article, “The Veil of Sanlucar” gives the recipe, click here sherry.wine. Being a product influenced by the sea, Manzanilla quite naturally goes well with fish and seafood dishes. Since we are speaking of Spain, seafood paella comes to mind immediately. There are many recipes for this traditional Spanish dish, but in the recipe given on againstallgrain.com, Danielle Walker throws in everything. You can add the sherry.

Paella with seafood and meat by Danielle Walker. Photo credit to againsallgrain.com

If one is going to be eating tapas, those wonderful little appetizers full of cheese, olives, ham, mushrooms, etc., then follow the guidance of Fiona Beckett when she advises to consume those tapas with a good sherry. See the 6 wines she recommends at matchingfoodandwine.com.

Tapas mix and pinchos food from Spain recipes also pintxos on a white wood board (Free photo from istock.com, credit to Getty Images.)

Whether one is going to Spain or just wanting to watch that old movie, The Naked Maja, plan to enjoy some of the delicious treats that come from the area around where the Duchess of Alba lived. Raise a glass of Manzanilla to her memory and thank Goya for capturing that period in Spanish history so well. Olé!

Coming soon: Klee’s Colorful Operatic Painting and Tunisian Wine from the Vineyards of Cap Bon.

Hammamet with Its Mosque by Paul Klee, 1914 metmuseum.org

Paul Klee participated in many of the early 20th century’s art movements. Though he received art training in Munich, Germany, it was when he went to Tunisia in 1914 that his sense of color was sparked by the amazing light he found there. Klee’s transformation and his experiences in Tunisia influenced not only his art but that of so many others. Then, there is also Tunisia’s history of wine making, which is a very long one, dating back some 3,000 years.

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Waterhouse Cracks the Mirror, and Wines of Anglophonia: USA.

Boreas by John William Waterhouse, 1903. Click the image to magnify.

Boreas, that is a strange sounding name, not often spoken these days, except in terms like aurora borealis. That of course conjures up images of the cold of the far north and the lands of the northern lights. In fact, Boreas is the name of the ancient Greek God of the North Wind, who carried off the daughter of the king of Athens. He took her off to live with him in Thrace, where they became the king and queen of the winds. In Waterhouse’s painting we see old Boreas at work in a late Victorian setting, where a beautiful young woman wearing a spring flower in her hair seems about to be lifted up by a strong wind. The angle at which her body cuts across the painting indicates that she might not long be standing. The grasses and flowers lean heavily to the left, and the trees in the background bend to that same strong wind. Her blue-violet wrap serves only to show the force of that wind as it billows out from her as she is about to be swept off her feet and taken away. The protective positioning of her arms is emphasized by her shawl in full sail.

Yet amid all this action, the woman maintains the solemn, appropriately melancholy face associated with the female subjects of the paintings of the Pre-Raphaelites. She is a perfect heroine of one of the tragic tales that they often represented, somehow resigned to her inescapable fate. So dramatic is this painting, it could serve as a promotional clip for a Masterpiece Theatre drama.

John William Waterhouse (1849-1917) was born around the time that the Pre-Raphaelites were getting started on their journey toward a romanticized realism based on the myths and legends of the past and the desire to break free of the academic dictates related to the art of Raphael (see the previous article on the Pre-Raphaelites). While John Everett Millais could be quite dramatic, his Ophelia being a prime example of that drama in storytelling, to me Waterhouse seems to take that storytelling into what could be called the cinematic. The advent of the camera and the photographic image, which toward the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th turned toward making pictures move, had effects that rippled through the visual arts on many levels.

Waterhouse was not alone in this move to action packed scenes in which every element was designed to tell a story. Across the Channel or La Manche, as the French say, Jean-Léon Gérôme, a leading academician and romantic painter, moved into near photographic storytelling, including doing paintings that later influenced movie images. Take a look at this painting, and tell me if you think this scene looks familiar.

Pollice Verso, sometimes called “thumbs up” by Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1872.

Yes, of course, we have seen versions of this in countless movies, from Demetrius and the Gladiators to Spartacus. It is a painting that helped create that “thumbs up” or “thumbs down” idea about how life and death were determined in the Roman arena. The actual title means “turning the thumb,” but the interpretations of what was going on in this painting lead to the verdict that thumbs up meant to spare the life of the fallen gladiator. And speaking of gladiators, the Ridley Scott movie by that name, Gladiator, was inspired by this very painting by Gérôme.

Among Waterhouse’s most famous paintings of a legend involving a beautiful young woman doomed by a curious curse is his series on The Lady of Shalott. The artist did three versions of it over the years from 1888 to 1915. The story is told in three paintings, like a mini-series, and is based upon the 1832 poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson with the same name. It is the retelling of an Arthurian legend of Elaine of Astolet. In brief a beautiful young woman is confined to her home on an island because of a curse that will fall upon her should she ever leave. Her only view of the outside world is by looking at the mirror image of what goes on outside her windows. One day, though, she happens to see a handsome young man. From here let’s allow Waterhouse to tell the tale.

Shadow, the first painting in the series on The Lady of Shalott by J.W. Waterhouse, 1888. Click image to magnify.

Act One: Here is the fair damsel sitting at her weaving, but dreaming of that world beyond what her mirror reflects. Isolated on an island, her only outlet is weaving what she sees into a tapestry. Her pose is one of ennui. Her scarlet dress a symbol of the underlying passions that stir in her soul. The contrast of that wistful pose full of longing and the brilliant red dress indicate an incipient conflict in her being, and the temptation of the forbidden fruit offered up by that world outside her windows. Then one day, she sees this handsome, noble knight, none other than Sir Lancelot of the Lake, himself.

Lancelot, the second work in the series The Lady of Shalott by J.W. Waterhouse, 1888. Click image to magnify.

Act Two: Elaine first sees the reflection of the handsome young knight and is moved to gaze directly upon him by leaving her accustomed place at her weaving. A bit of a change of costume is required as this lovely white gown symbolizes the purity of her sudden love for Lancelot. We can see that her movement to leave causes the balls of thread to go tumbling to the floor as she moves to free herself from the entangling strings of yarn. Her face is no longer dreamy, but in fact is quite determined to move out of her isolation. However, as she does, the mirror cracks from side-to-side just behind her, unleashing the curse, which is death.

The Lady of Shalott, here in the final painting of the series by J.W. Waterhouse, 1888 tate.org.uk Click image to magnify.

Act Three: Here Elaine sets off on her fateful journey down the river that takes her away from her island. Not unlike Millais’ Ophelia, she has but little of life left, represented here by two of the three candles being already blown out. She is about to let go of the chain that moors the boat to venture into the real world, all the time carrying with her the tapestry that shows what she thought life to be like.

Waterhouse is credited by some modern art historians as presenting this as an allegorical painting, representing the women of his day as wanting to break free of the limitations that society imposed on them, regardless of the costs. Think of Lizzie Siddal from part one of this blog on the Pre-Raphaelites, who gave up her work selling hats to become an artist’s model, a job that put her morals in question. Waterhouse’s series of paintings, so full of age-old symbolism about female sexuality, and how male-dominated society seeks to inhibit it by inhibiting women in general, gives the viewer a colorful, skillfully painted mini-series with cinematic images worth being visualized in film. It is Waterhouse’s detail in the telling of the story, and the poses he gives the character of Elaine that make his work here look like elaborate storyboards for a film shoot. In a way it seems that his art was one of the forerunners of the cinema itself.

Elaine, detail of the Lady of Shalott by J.W. Waterhouse, 1888. Click image to magnify.

Finally, in this detail of Elaine’s face, we have what Sunset Boulevard’s Norma Desmond would have wanted, a close-up worthy of Cecil B. DeMille.

Sources for this article: “John William Waterhouse, The Lady of Shalott” Tate Britain Art and Artists tate.org.uk

“Painting of the Week: John William Waterhouse The Lady of Shalott” from Daily Art Magazine dailyartmagazine.com

“Lizzie Siddal, Pre-Raphaelite Muse and Artist” marinamade.me

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wines of Anglophonia: U.S.A.

Funicular car high above the Napa Valley on the way to Sterling Winery.

As the previous article on the British Pre-Raphaelites included the beginning of our world tour of wines made in Anglophone countries, it must continue with the biggest producer, the U.S.A. When talking about wine in the U.S., the mind immediately goes to California, and its neighboring states on the Pacific Coast. However, the story of wine in the U.S. has a much more varied history. While we think that America’s first western name came from that of Americo Vespucci, the Italian explorer whose last name was given to the continents of the Western Hemisphere, the first Europeans to explore what is now the east coast of the U.S. called it, “Vinland” because of the numerous grape vines they found there. The first actual vineyards were planted in New Mexico in the early 1600s. The oldest still operating winery in the country, however, is in New York State. The Brotherhood Winery was founded in 1839 by a religious order to make sacramental and “medicinal” wines and still produces wine and maintains a restaurant and wine tasting rooms.

Ohio used a native grape called Catawba to make wines starting in 1802. They even made a rather celebrated sparkling wine and had a thriving wine-growing region until it was hit by a fungus. They moved off to the area around Lake Erie in New York State known as the Finger Lakes, which turned out to have a perfect climate for growing grapes to make high quality Riesling and Gewurtztraminer wines. It was also not affected by the “mildew” as they called the fungus, so the industry grew. In fact, one third of all wines produced in the U.S. come from New York State. New York even has vineyards on Long Island, which contains the boroughs of Queens and Brooklyn, but also Suffolk and Nassau counties, which is where one finds the wineries. Remember that the next time you visit New York City.

The Finger Lakes in New York State near Lake Erie

Speaking of American wine growing ventures interrupted by nature and its various “mildews,” Missouri may actually have been the source of the phylloxera contagion, a fungus that got transported to France in the late 1800s and devastated the vineyards there. The fungus that rots the roots of the vines is native to North America. Now not to cast aspersions on Missouri and its wine culture, it must be noted that it was German settlers there in the 1840s who even set up their first towns with lots designed to grow grapes. Hermann, Missouri, is still the center of Missouri wine country. Notably, it was industrious American viticulturists who worked with the phylloxera resistent root stocks that some American grapes had to create a hybrid that helped save the wine industry in France.

While the Spaniards brought wine culture to North America by planting vines in New Mexico, that culture spread to the perfect wine-growing areas on the Pacific Coast. One immediately thinks of California’s Napa Valley and of its neighbor, Sonoma. Sadly both the Napa and Sonoma Valleys suffered great devastation in September of 2020 because of the Glass Hill fire which destroyed many homes, several wineries, and some fine restaurants in the area around St. Helena and many homes in Sonoma. Much, however, is still there. For a more thorough look at the wines of that region in California, look at this post, “Wayne Thiebault’s San Francisco and Napa Valley Wines” ofartandwine.com.

Vineyard in Oregon

Just to the north of California is Oregon, which is making its mark by specializing. It is one of the foremost producers of Pinot Noir. The wine drew special attention after Paul Giamatti’s character in the movie, Sideways, praised its qualities to the detriment of Merlot. Oregon has become a “monograpist” region, but what a region. The Willamette Valley is a perfect location for growing Pinot Noir grapes and the production of that most drinkable of wines.

While Oregon specializes, Washington State has varied micro-climates that allow it to diversify. The Columbia River Valley has made Washington the U.S.A’s second largest wine growing state. Washington produces high quality Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Syrah, as well as Riesling, Gewurtztraminer and Chardonnay. It’s Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery in Woodinville, just outside of Seattle, not only has a long history of fine wine making, but also has a calendar of wine-tasting events and jazz concerts, which will hopefully once again be in full-swing as the COVID-19 virus is calmed by vaccines.

Finally, one of the elements in the local wine culture of Washington is Cellars Wine Club which operates an online wine club. Its experts travel the country and the world to select the wines for its various wine clubs. It has a club for every level of wine enthusiasm and budget. From the Single-Bottle Club to Premium Case Club, there is something for everyone. Take a look at the page on this blog which is dedicated to Cellars Wine Club ofartandwine.com.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Goya’s Maja, the Duchess of Alba, and Sherry from Andalucia.

Two of Francisco Goya’s famous Majas, this one clothed, the other one nude, are reputed to have used the Duchess of Alba, Maria Cayetana de Silva, as his model. For sure he did paint several pictures of her as herself. The story of this relationship between painter and this model from Spanish nobility has even been the subject of movies, like The Naked Maja. However, the life of the duchess, as model and duchess, is better than any Hollywood movie. And then there are the wines of Andalucia where her country estate was.

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Pre-Raphaelites and Melancholy Women, plus Wine in the Anglophone World

Detail of Ophelia by John Everett Millais, 1851-1852. Now in the Tate Britain in London, U.K.

Melancholia is described as a subset of depression that includes feelings of extreme despair and guilt. We cannot say exactly what feelings of guilt this famous Shakespearean character may have had, except over letting her father and brother come between her and the man she loved to the point where he rejected her. The he, Hamlet, also later killed her father. Extreme, I know, but this is Shakespeare. The end result was her tragic suicide by drowning. Here we see a depiction of her as she lets herself drift off to an inevitable death.

As one might guess from the subject matter, the Pre-Raphaelites were a group of 19th century British painters dedicated to returning to certain aspects of the art that came before Raphael. Founded in 1848, quite a revolutionary year in European history with revolts against monarchies throughout Europe (all of which failed at that time), the group sought to overturn the strict rules of the formal art academy. Those rules were based upon the principles found in the work of the High Renaissance as exemplified by Raphael. None of these painters despised the work of Raphael. What they did not like was the codified way that it was used to produce art, an art that had become overly-academic and so much less creative. These artists wanted to go back to the early Renaissance of the Quatrocento (1400s) to capture the nature of things and represent them in hyper-realism. This “realism” came with a heavy dose of romanticism, as the subjects were normally based upon myth and legend.

John Everett Millais self-portrait, Dante Gabriel Rossetti self-portrait, William Holman Hunt by F.G Stephens, as they were in 1847.

This group of rebellious looking young men were the founders of the group, which later consisted also of William Michael Rossetti, James Collinson, Frederick George Stephens, and Thomas Woolner. They were surrounded by a variety of poets, writers, musicians, and other creatives who wanted to change the way the arts were expressed. These painters emphasized great detail with lush and vibrant colors, all to tell the often tragic stories handed down in Shakespearean plays and in Arthurian legends. This brings us to the melancholy women and one in particular named Lizzie Siddal.

Sketch of Lizzie Siddal by Millais, 1852 and scene of candle heated bathtub from BBC production Desperate Romantics. Photo credit to Laurence Cedrowicz

The focus of the painter John Everett Millais for his painting of Ophelia was to create an accurate picture of what her drowning would have looked like. He scouted a spot along the Hogsmill River that matched the description in Shakespeare. He labored there for a number of months since it was anathema for the Pre-Raphaelites to finish their outdoor scenes in the studio. Millais painted the outdoors, while actually outdoors, to capture the exact nature of the location. (Notice in the painting the detail in his treatment of the plants, trees, and flowers along the river.)

Then it was time to set things up in the studio for the model, who was a beautiful 19-year-old who had worked selling hats. Her name was Elizabeth Siddal, and she goes down as probably art history’s most dedicated artist’s model. Millais persuaded her to model for his Ophelia by dressing her in a gown laced with silver that he had bought for £4 in a flea market (fleas included?) and putting her into a tub of water that was heated by a series of candles (see the BBC photo above). She modeled for Millais over a period of four months before one of the two great tragedies of her life occurred.

As any artist knows, the art demands full concentration, and so it was when one afternoon Millais was so intent upon his work that he did not see that the candles had gone out. Lizzie continued floating in cold water without saying a word, dutifully holding firm to the pose. She, of course, fell ill. Most say of a cold; I’d say pneumonia. Her father threatened to sue Millais, who was about 22 years old at the time and came from a wealthy family. Millais agreed to pay for her medical expenses, about  £50 which would be almost $10,000 in today’s currency. Though she recovered, the incident had a deleterious effect on her health for the rest of her life.

Elizabeth Siddal by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1854. Click to magnify.

Frida Kahlo famously said of her own life, “There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley, and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.” Lizzie Siddal could have paraphrased that by replacing trolley with bathtub and Diego with Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Since he was a close companion and co-founder of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, Rossetti came to know Lizzie. In terms of documenting her beauty, with her as his companion, he could feast his eyes upon her at will. In fact, Rossetti’s sister, the poet Christina Rossetti said, “He feeds upon her face by day and by night. And she with true kind eyes looks back at him.” Sure signs of a tragedy.

And so it was. Their relationship lasted off and on for about nine years in which Rossetti energetically shared his good looks with many another woman. However, finally Lizzie and Rossetti married. It did not last long, and their first child was born dead. Lizzie suffered severely from post-partum depression and took a dose of laudanum, which is derived from the opium poppy. She died from it at the age of 31 in 1862. Rossetti laid a manuscript of the poems he had been writing about her in the coffin saying, “I have often been writing at those poems when Lizzie was ill and suffering, and I might have been attending to her, and now they shall go.” He later admitted to be haunted by her ghost. merrynaillingham.com

Now, not to present Lizzie as a goddess who let herself become a doormat, she won critical acclaim from none other than John Ruskin, the leading art critic of the day for her painting. Yes, she exhibited with the Pre-Raphaelites as a painter herself. Her love of poetry was what drew her into the world of these artists, where she could earn more money modeling than selling hats and thereby support her desire to become a poet. However, it was her painting that ultimately drew Ruskin’s attention, along with his support for her as a superb artist’s model. He even paid her 150 pounds sterling per year to have first right of refusal for her paintings. The Tate has a page on its website for her, tate.org.uk.

Ophelia’s hand from Millais painting All of the flowers have symbolic meanings.

This detail of Ophelia’s hand provides a lot of insight into the goals and the achievements of the Pre-Raphaelites. Though their painting has often been criticized for being overly romantic and melodramatic, the skill and dedication with which they approached the reproduction of the reality they saw has to be appreciated. Here one feels the sensation of the water that is floating Ophelia and these flowers away. Each of the flowers has meaning, from the violets, which also form her necklace and stand for faithfulness, to the red poppy that symbolized the death that their opium often brought. Shakespeare wrote a line in Hamlet for Gertrude in which she speaks of Ophelia’s death, describing the young woman as having fallen into a stream while picking flowers and being swept away, all the while singing. A bright red poppy is prominent in Millais painting, positioned near Ophelia’s upturned hand.

As time passed the Pre-Raphaelites were overtaken by the Impressionists, another radical (at that time) movement. However, John William Waterhouse (1949-1917), born at about the time of the creation of the Pre-Raphaelites, was to carry that movement into the early 20th century with what seems to me a more cinematic touch. TO BE CONTINUED…

Sources for this post are the following: “The Story of Ophelia” from the Tate Britain tate.org.uk; “John Everett Millais’ Ophelia – 3 Facts” news.artnet.com; “Lizzie Siddal, Pre-Raphaelite Muse and Artist” marinamade.me; “If Ophelia Could Talk, the True Story of the Iconic Artist-Muse” messynessychic.com

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wine and Anglophonia

Anglophonia? Okay, I admit to taking liberalities with the language, but what I mean to address is wine in the world not of the Mediterranean Latins or the Aegean Greeks, but in the lands of the English-speaking. The Romans are the ones really credited with the spread of vineyards and wine production throughout their vast empire. That empire included the British Isles and no, they were not left out when it came to the cultivation of the grape.

Bolney Wine Estate Vineyards in Sussex Photo credit Amber Dyer inews.co.uk

While one might not automatically think of England as a wine-producing country, in fact, the southern regions of England, like Essex, Kent, and Sussex, have a number of vineyards. There are abour 500 working vineyards in the UK, and many of them allow visitors. For a list of the 12 Best as of 2019, click the link under the picture above. The limestone soil (chalk) found there allows for the planting of a number of varieties of grapes, including Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, two of the most popular and useful varieties for wine making. One thing often noticed about UK wines is that they are expensive. This comes from there being small quantities of grapes grown compared to other regions on the planet and the labor-intensive way of making wine. This increases the quality and thus the higher price. To discuss these matters and tell “All About English Wines,” Wine Folly has an article to do just that, winefolly.com

British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley continues the Pacific Coast wine growing adventure.

Canada is another of those places that one associates with such cold weather that grape growing must surely be impossible. Au contrare mes chers amis! The warm currents that come up the Pacific Coast allow for many of the same growing conditions found in our own Washington State to continue over the border into British Columbia. There the Okanagan Valley is the star producer of wines. Vineyards with names such as Tantalus, Laughing Stock, and Burrowing Owl all produce 90 point Pinot Noir, Riesling, Merlot and Syrah wines. Meanwhile on the other side of that vast country, the Niagara region of Ontario has become quite famous for wine in its town of Niagara-on-the-Lake. While Chardonnay production is quite common, there is also a speciality of a different type, Ice Wine. For that the Peller Estates Winery offers a unique experience. One can have one’s ice wine served while one is in an igloo! Nothing like a true taste of Canadian cold while sipping a delightful sweet wine.

Cycling at New Zealand’s Marlborough wine growing region. Photo credit discover-the-world.com

Australia and New Zealand, yes, the two always come trippingly off the tongue together, and they do share a general geographic location and produce good quality wines. In Australia, Canberra and New South Wales are the stars. Clonakilla Winery in the Canberra District was the first to notice the warm days and cool nights in the region would favor the cultivation of the grape. Clonakilla produces very fine Riesling and Shiraz. Meanwhile New South Wales’ Hunter Valley knew wine grape cultivation since the 1860s. Here there are wineries that encourage tasting and food pairing. Across the sea a bit lies New Zealand, where its Hawke’s Bay area has become known as the “Bordeaux of New Zealand” for its production of rich red wines. Lonely Planet has a great top ten wineries article that covers Australia and New Zealand, and yes, there are pictures of kangeroos, lonelyplanet.com

Anthonij Rupert Winery in South Africa. Photo credit Danie Nel winemag.com

South Africa certainly wins awards for having a beautiful wine-growing region, but it doesn’t stop there. South Africa produces many world-class wines, such as the Anthonij Rupert medium bodied Bordeaux blend or Plume Palace’s Shiraz Rosé, or a Raised By Wolves Sémillon. The grapes grown in South Africa tend to be Cabernet Sauvignon, Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot, Chardonnay, and Shiraz. Most of the wine producing areas are relatively close to Cape Town, such as the Franschhoek area, named by Dutch settlers for the French Huguenots who first settled there in the late 1600s. That area is protected by the mountains that also capture the cool ocean breezes. The terrain is mainly sandstone and receives the benefit of the many streams that come from the mountains that surround it. South Africa also has a vast coastal growing region. For more on that click the link above.

While that is a quick trip around the English-speaking world and its viniculture, that is not all. In the Anglophone world, the major producer of wines is the United States, but that is something TO BE CONTINUED…

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Waterhouse Cracks the Mirror and Wines of Anglophonia: USA.

John William Waterhouse was also a Pre-Raphaelite though he was a baby when the movement started. He, however, continued the tradition with a move toward a slightly different look. Here is the second painting in the series on Lady Shalott, a damsel in the Arthurian legends who broke from her restricted life in order to gaze upon the knight Lancelot. In it one sees a flare for the dramatic that takes on a rather cinematic touch. In particular, just behind her is the mirror that cracked to signal the curse that befell her, yet another Pre-Raphaelite melancholy lady.

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Art, Artists, Money, and 90+ Point Wines to Spend It On.

Damien Hirst, For the Love of God. 2007.

Yes, those are flawless diamonds, all 8,601 of them. I don’t know about the teeth, but they might be expensive dental work, too. At any rate, this piece was purchased for 100 million dollars and is the most expensive contemporary art work ever made – so far. I say so far because all of us who create art aspire to get the ultimate market value for our work, preferably upfront. It was Damien Hirst, the artist who created this piece, who put that idea into our heads. We should sell at the price that collecors bid the work up to. Artist should get more money on the front end, For the Love of God! (which is also the name of this piece of art).

Of course, Hirst went so far as to completely go around the normal gate-keepers: the galleries and the art dealers. He did an auction of new work from his studio in 2008 by going straight to Sotheby’s auction house. He was duly punished as an art world outcast for a number of years, a story that art publications made a cautionary tale out of. However, he made a startling comeback in Venice in 2017, where he sold over 300 million dollars of art! So what is Hirst’s secret? Well, he seems to have turned his art into a luxury goods business on the one hand, and on the other, once his reputation was built, he went solo (or rogue depending on your point of view). Rather like those actors who left the old Hollywood studio system, Hirst left the galleries to deal direct.

Damien Hirst in all his defiant glory. Photo credit Francesco Guidicini newyorker.com Click image to magnify.

Of course, Hirst isn’t the only artist who, after having gained fame, took it to the outer limits. Time for a famous story about the old money machine himself, Pablo Picasso, of whom his daughter Maya said, “My father is a man who lives modestly, with a lot of money in his pocket.” This matches a quote from the King Midas of Art himself, saying humbly, “I’d like to live as a poor man with lots of money.” Of course, his various villas on the French Riviera show that he may have failed in this ambition. However, this contradiction in his life did not seem to bother him at all. Nor did his life long declaration of being a communist conflict for one minute with his huge valuable art collection (his own work and yes, some pieces by Matisse).

Just to show how far he could go to demonstrate his “art” power, he once made his own money. When shown a new 500 franc bill, he asked to look it over. A friend handed him the new bill which had a border in white.

Picasso looked at it and said, “I am King Midas. In two seconds I can make this into a 1,000 francs.” He took a pen and began to draw a bull fight along the white edges of the bill. Afterward he signed it, of course. He then handed it back to the man, who later showed it off to a group of friends, one of whom immediately gave him 1,000 francs for it, proving Picasso’s point. Picasso/Midas was known to pay for meals by signing napkins he had doodled on. His most interesting foray into creating his own money was when he ran into trouble with the SPA, the French SPCA, in Vallauris, where in 1961, a bull fight had been held in his honor. A lawsuit was filed about animal cruelty, costing him legal fees of 5,000 francs. The artist sent his lawyer a check that he had designed, for 5,000 francs, with a date and his signature. The lawyer framed it and kept it in his office – a truly original Picasso.

Le Désespéré or The Desperate Man by Gustave Courbet 1844 Click image to magnify.

Gustave Courbet was a 19th century French painter that wanted to push the boundaries of art. Even though he painted during a period of Romanticism, his focus was on Realism, which was a rejection of the romantic painting that had been held over from the 18th century. In particular he wanted to deal with the plight of the working man. However, he did not necessarily want to be poor himself. While he is famous for shaking things up with paintings like the one above or his even more famous, Origin of the World, musee-orsay.fr, he claimed that he “minted money with flowers.” And so he did with these very sweet paintings that we now might see reprinted on candy box covers. Most of them bore names like A Basket of Flowers or Flowers in a Basket, and they sold very well.

A Basket of Flowers, 1863 and Flowers in a Basket, 1863 both by Gustave Courbet.

Specialization is nothing new in the world of art. Titian did it with his portraits in 16th century Venice. He even had a niche within a niche when it came to doing portraits of Charles V of Spain. Everyone who was anyone wanted a portrait painted by Titian, and for great sums of money, the artist was happy to oblige. In some ways, he may have been a forerunner of Andy Warhol, who also specialized in portraits. Men, women, children, dogs, even cans of soup got his stylized two-dimensional treatment at “The Factory,” as Warhol’s studio was called. Even though he did not approach creating any feeling of depth in his portraits, Warhol worked on the faces of his clients like a master plastic surgeon. He would elongate a neck, shorten a nose, enlarge lips, clarify the skin tone, or simply pop in unusual colors, all to embellish the look of his subjects. And he churned the images out en masse, which makes the name of his studio take on a truly industrial connotation.

Marilyn Monroe and Liz Taylor and Liz Taylor and Marilyn Monroe by Andy Warhol, 1965.

While it would be truly wonderful to use these examples to debunk the image of the starving artist, what makes for success combines a number of factors, not the least of which is timing. A great step forward into a new era of painting, at just the right moment, combined with a talent for marketing and the ability to create mystique, can do the trick but are difficult to align.

This leaves us to think of the Patron Saint of the Starving Artist, Vincent Van Gogh, here drawn by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec. His life story is full of “what ifs.” What if he had been born a bit later? What if his brother, Theo, had been a more daring art marketer? What if his estate had gotten even a small percentage of the monies that have traded hands over the years to buy his paintings? That last is something for all artists to think about. How about that instead of just owning the rights to our images for our lifetimes and for 70 years after our deaths?

What if the artist or the estate of the artist got paid a precentage of the sale each time a painting changed hands through purchase? Film actors get residuals anytime anything they performed in is run on television anywhere around the world. Residuals of that type might be an idea that would please both Damien Hirst and Pablo Picasso, and keep the wolves from the door of many another artist.

Primay sources for some of the information in this article are Les Artists Ont Toujours Aimé L’argent (Artists Have Always Loved Money) by Judith Benhamou-Huet and “The False Narrative of Damien Hirst’s Rise and Fall” by Felix Salmon newyorker.com.

Images of work by Damien Hirst and Andy Warhol used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of critique and review.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

90+ Point Wine$

Ondulé Red at $79.99 Photo credit to The Creative Exchange on unsplash.com

Wine making like painting produces a wide range of products, varying from the truly awful to the exquisitely divine. We are sticking with divinity here, as we approach the subject of 90+ Point Wines. First of all, who among us did not even guess that wine had scores like on a final exam? As a teacher, my eyes focused clearly when I first came across this scoring system. I wondered what wine gets a grade of 90+? I admit that as a teacher I seldom had monies for bottles of wine costing hundreds of dollars. Of course now that I intend to be a rich artist, watch out!

Just to satisfy your curiosity as to how high the prices can go, here is a link to “The World’s Top 50 Most Expensive Wines” wine-seacher.com. Believe me these are in the Damien Hirst category. For most of the rest of us, a look at 90+ point wines that cost $100 or less brings the whole subject into reach. So what does that 90+ score mean?

There is a lifestyle magazine called Wine Spectator, founded in San Diego in 1976. It was purchased by its current publisher and editor, Marvin R. Shanken, a few years later. It was he who started the Wine Spectator Wine Tastings in 1986. Naturally, if you are going to compare tastes, there must be some system for ranking the different wines. Hence a grading system was developed. For a detailed wine tasting chart and the rankings of wines from different countries, click this link winespectator.com.

As with your final exam essay, for those of you who remember any of those, 95-100 is A, stratospherically divine. 90-94 is an A- which is outstanding, to be sure. 85-89 is very good, special even. 80-84 is good but well made. 75-79 is passing, moderately drinkable. Below that one gets into plonk, a term from Australian English that means wine of low cost and low quality.

There are several magazines that deal with wine ratings; however, their standards vary. Wine Enthusiast, for example, is a bit more generous in its ratings. As in the art world, the world of wines has its top critics, the Clement Greenberg or Robert Hughes of the industry. Wine Spectator’s Robert Parker plays a major role in the setting of prices of Bordeaux wines. He is of such fame that the French made him Chevalier de L’Order de la Legion d’Honneur. He also has his own monthly publication called The Wine Advocate. Michael Broadbent, who passed away last year, was the person known for establishing the wine auction during his time as a specialist at Christie’s.

So now let’s get down to the basics, like how the ordinary wine enthusiast experiences some of these wines. Here Robert Parker does not let us down. Millesima Fine Wine has a detailed list of 90+ wines, with the rankings by Parker, that range in price from around $20 to about $80 (see millesima-usa.com). They include red wines, whites, sparkling wines and champagne, Burgundy wines, as well as white Bordeaux, and all with his ranking numbers. These tend to range around 92 on the grading scale and offer excellent tasting experiences.

Another way to get the experience of these wines is to join a wine club. Cellars Wine Club, for instance, has a 90+ Point Wine Club with wines that rank those points on Robert Parker’s scale. One can enjoy a shipment of a couple of bottles or endulge one’s desires to expand one’s knowledge of these fine wines by joining the 90+ Point Case Club. All of the wines come with tasting notes and free shipping.

Art and wine have so much in common, from the artistry and science of their creation, and the way they can be viewed and tasted, to the role of the critics in helping to define and shape what we enjoy. As I say when giving the premise that this blog is based upon, art and wine are the perfect cultural pairing.

Articles used in this look at 90+ Point wines are linked in blue.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Pre-Raphaelites and Melancholy Women, plus Wine in the Anglophone World.

Ophelia by Sir John Edward Millais, 1851-52.

Though when looking at this painting, one might not think of the Pre-Raphaelites as rebels, in fact, they were. They wanted to go back to the art that came before the Renaissance of Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo. Yet while they wanted to turn back the hands of time, their art does have links to the forward movement of Impressionism.

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An Art History C.S.I. and Wine and Poison, a Lethal Combo.

Self-portrait of Masaccio from the Brancacci Chapel in Florence, Italy.

Well, there he is, a Renaissance rock star without the rock music. What he rocked was painting. You can tell by the expression on his face that he was a no-nonsence type of guy, rough around the edges and maybe at the core as well. While his given name was Tommaso, or Thomas, he was known as a big fellow who cared little for personal grooming, thus he was nicknamed, Masaccio. In its kindest form it means Big Thomas, but it also means Messy Thomas or Dirty Thomas. He blazed brightly in Florence in the 1420s before taking his talent to Rome in 1428, the hot spot for papal commissions. However, he never returned, as someone supposedly killed him there that same year. Our search to find out what happened begins there and with two of the several competing theories about how he died.

According to a version I heard in an art history lecture I attended when living in Avignon,France, former seat of the Papacy, Masaccio’s fame preceded him to Rome where major jealousies were inflamed among the other artists vying for those papal commissions. This was added to by reports that Masaccio had developed a secret formula for creating a brilliant red. In fact, he had already shown his penchant for color in his works in Florence (see the portrait of St. Jerome in his red cardinal’s robes).

Producing colors, especially brilliant ones, was not an easy task in the early 15th century, so the idea that a formula for brilliant red was possible caused a great stir. One night as Masaccio walked down one of the narrow streets in Rome’s rabbit warren of small dark streets, a fellow artist, jealous of Masaccio’s talent and that newly created red, stabbed Masaccio in the back, leaving him to die on the street. I have searched for a printed version of this story but so far can only point to what the art historian said in the lecture.

The next story, I do have a written source for. It comes to us via Giorgio Vasari in his Lives of the Artists. It was written about 140 years after Masaccio’s death, but that is at least 460 years closer to Masaccio than we are. Vasari also believed that it was a jealous fellow artist who did Masaccio in, but this time it was by poison. One thinks immediately of the Borgias and their elaborate jeweled rings which held secret compartments of poison. A tilt of the hand and deadly powders could be dropped into the wine gobblet of some unsuspecting dinner guest. Given Masaccio’s crude life, it probably didn’t happen that elegantly. However, there is another problem here. Vasari’s writings, though well-studied and respected, have been investigated over the years and sometimes show gross inaccuracies. For instance, for centuries the art world took his story of Andrea del Castagno’s having murdered his rival Veneziano to be historical fact. However, in recent times, a bit more digging into the records shows that Veneziano outlived Castagno by five years, so if he was murdered, it was not Castagno who did it. Rest in peace Andrea, your reputation has been restored.

At this point, it might be better to take a look at why Masaccio was so famous. First of all, he was very young, still only 26 when he died. He was born near Arezzo in 1401, came to Florence in his late teens, managed to be accepted into the painter’s guild at age 19, and was befriended by Donatello and Brunelleschi, two of the greatest innovators in Florence at that time, one in sculpture and the other in architecture.

It was 1425 when this painting rocked the art world in Florence. Known as The Expulsion from the Garden of Eden, it was the first painting since classical times with bodies painted as they might naturally appear. In addition the figures are visibly emotional, suffering both grief and shame as the sword-bearing angel harries them out of paradise. Giotto, who painted 100 years before this, is credited with starting the return to natural realism in figures, but his were still within the stylistic structure of International Gothic. These figures go well beyond that or even the ones of the other painter who worked with Masaccio on the same project, the Brancacci Chapel in the Church of Santa Maria del Carmine. To see the difference, look just below.

Masolino da Panicale (known as Little/Delicate Thomas) Adam and Eve in The Temptation

Tommaso da Panicale was an older artist hired by the Brancacci family to work with Masaccio on their chapel. He became known as Masolino or Little/Delicate Thomas in contrast to his workmate, Big/Dirty Thomas. The older artist’s work here shows some awareness of the value of shadow in terms of making figures more natural looking (notice the shadow on Adam). His Eve, however, seems a lot flatter because of the lack of shadow, and both figures are rather placid though they are on the cusp of losing everything. Though the work of the two artists blended well, it was Masaccio’s figures that wowed the arts of Florence, and he was only beginning. Fifteenth century Florence was focused on the idea of creating depth in painting and drawing, of making something in two dimensions seem as though it contained three dimensions. Masaccio struck a major blow in that direction with his Holy Trinity, a painting in the Church of Santa Maria Novella.

The Holy Trinity painted by Masaccio (1426-28) in Santa Maria Novella

This painting, especially as it was originally aligned with an entrance to the church, was designed to give the feeling of depth, as though one could continue down some hallway behind the crucifixion scene. There was even a stone ledge separating the top of the painting from the skeletal figure on a stone coffer at the bottom of the painting. This added to the visual tricks to make the eye see depth and reality instead of a just paint on a flat wall. In particular, the coffered ceiling forming a vault over what appears as a hallway behind the main scene was exactly the goal of Florence’s search for perspective, the visual creation of depth. The figures below the crucifixion are Mary and St. John on the upper tier and the two patrons who paid for the painting, a husband and wife, on the bottom tier. Notice how they are aligned like steps that lead to the central figure of Christ. To understand how Masaccio used linear perspective to achieve this illusion, the video Empire of the Eye: The Magic of Illusion: Holy Trinity – Masaccio, takes the painting apart using 3D computer technology to show how Masaccio created this work, youtube.com.

Needless to say, that it was not only Filippo Brunelleschi, the creator of the fabulous dome that covered the great church Santa Maria dei Fiori (the Duomo of Florence), who mourned the loss of this talented young painter. Brunelleschi said upon hearing that Masaccio had died, “We have suffered a great loss.” So we return to the question of how did he die. As has already been seen, his life is rather mysterious. He even goes by two formal names, Tommaso Cassai and Tommaso di Ser Giovanni di Simone. While there are two stories of Masaccio dying because of artistic violence perpetrated out of jealousy, it is also quite possible that he died from either plague or perhaps the malaria that often infected Rome in the summers. There is a theory that he might have committed suicide, but there is no rationale given for why. Since he was already famous in Florence, it would seem he had a lot to live for, so I discount the suicide theory.

Regardless of how it happened, the fact that there were artistic rivalries so strong that violent actions took place can be seen in how Michelangelo received his flattened nose. In Alexander Lee’s, The Ugly Renaissance, Sex, Greed, Violence, and Depravity in the Age of Beauty (see erenow.net), he tells of how Michelangelo while sketching in the Brancacci Chapel engaged in a dispute with another promising young artist, Pietro Torrigiano, over who was talented enough to carry on Masaccio’s tradition.

Michelangelo, of course, declared himself to be that person. Tired of his classmate’s arrogance and sharp tongue, Torrigiano punched him in the face, declaring later that it was his greatest pleasure to feel the bone of Michelangelo’s nose crunch between his knuckles. Thus the extremely flattened nose Michelangelo is always depicted with. A fist fight in the holy chapel, perhaps Masaccio’s death by foul play, the tales are many. One thing for sure is that Masaccio led the way into the Renaissance, and who knows, he may have discovered a formula for brilliant red. Just look at Mary Magdalene’s cape.

Mary Magdalene at the Foot of the Cross by Masaccio, 1426.

Sources used for this post come from Giorgio Vasari, Vies des Artistes, translated into French by Léopold Léclenché and published by Citadelle Mazenod, France. Notes are also from an art history lecture at the Petit Palais, Avignon.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Wine and Poison, a Lethal History.

Death Comes to the Banquet Table by Giovanni Martinelli, 1635.

Shock, fear, loathing, shame, and blame, they can all be seen on the faces of the characters in this 17th century painting. Notice that Death is holding an hourglass in one skeletal hand while approaching one of reverlers who is seated at a table of good eats and wine. Of course, Jeanine Gros, a winemaker from France’s Côte d’Or states without equivocation, ” ‘Wine’ and ‘poison,’ these two words do not belong in the same sentence” (from The Assassin in the Vineyard). I wholeheartedly agree, but history often tells a different story.

One form of poison which came to be known as “the poison of kings and the king of poisons” was arsenic. While there are medical journal articles telling how arsenic has been used for “medicinal purposes” over the years to help with sleeping sickness and syphilis, it was known even in ancient times to be an effective, hard to detect way to move someone on to the After Life. Renaissance Italy was notorious for its use. In particular a certain concoction known as a cantarella (arsenic and toxic putrefaction alkaloids) got its name possibly from the small liqueur glasses that sweet dessert wines were served in. Just something a little extra to finish off a dinner. The fact that arsenic is odorless and tasteless means it can be mixed with food or wine very easily. The symptoms, vomiting, diarrhea, abdominal pain, are similar to many other common ailments. It could kill quickly in a day or be given slowly over a year’s time and was effective either way.

Arsenic became known as the “powder of succession.” There was even a type of school run in Italy by a Hieronyma Spara to help wealthy young wives become wealthy young widows. Of course, the Borgias, the pope and his children, Cesare and Lucrezia, were all known poisoners, with Cesare and his father, Pope Alexander VI, actually poisoning each other (Accidentally? Or was it a kind of “quick draw” poisoning match?) Wine was often the means of delivery as after a few cups, who was keeping track of which cup went where, or who was pouring? The Borgias were so notorious that word was out not to dine with them for one rarely survived the dinner.

Here I will make a little historical aside, as I want to point out that there were even more ingenious ways of getting someone out of the way. Queen Catherine de Medici of France, a woman from Renaissance Italy, was known for her collection of poisons and for perfumed and poisoned gloves. Catherine de Medici would visit the city of Grasse in the hills above the Côte d’Azur. I can remember seeing her home, duly marked by a historical plaque bearing her name and dates of residence, on several of my visits to the old part of that town. The emblem of Grasse is a sheep because before becoming a perfume capital, it was famous for fine sheepskin products like gloves. Queen Catherine may have been Grasse’s link between the making of gloves and the development of its perfume industry, as it is said that she was known to get to some of her victims by giving them luxurious gloves smelling of lavender or roses, which hid the scent of poisons that would soak through the pores in the victim’s hands. Supposedly that is how she killed the mother of Henry of Navarre, who still became king of France after Catherine and her heirs died. See this article at culturacolectiva.com on “Catherine de Medici, the Devil’s Queen.” Or see Sarah Albee’s Evil Mother Blog on “Deadly Gloves” at sarahalbeebooks.com

Queen Catherine, herself. Be careful!

However, back to wine and poison, there are even more ingenious plots that have happened in recent times. In the 1980s, Austria, a producer of sweet wines highly favored by the Germans, went through a “sweetening” scandal when a few bad harvests produced sour grapes. The solution that a cabal of merchants put together was the addition of diethylene glycol to the wine. Not only was this not good for the wine drinkers, as once the scandal was discovered many wine products had to be recalled, it also killed the sewage system of a town when someone dumped 4,000 gallons of it into the sewers, destroying the useful bacteria used to process waste. See “Scandal Over Poisoned Wine Embitters a Village in Austria,” nytimes.com. However, there have been even thicker plots in recent years.

Kidnap the Vines; Ransom the Reputation.

Domaine Romanée-Conti in the Burgundy region of France Photo credit nypost.com

This lovely patch of land is in a very special part of Burgundy in France. It is only 4.46 acres and only 20,000 vines, but it makes a wine that connoisseurs say can make one sure that there is “a Presence in the universe beyond our own.” These are the vineyards of Domaine Romanée-Conti, a producer of a Burgundy that is beyond the Pinot Noir grapes it comes from. Only 500 cases of this Burgundy are produced a year, and one is lucky to get a bottle for a mere $1,000. Generally, the cost runs around $10,000. Aged bottles have gone for as much as $124,000. Why? It is le terroir, the land that the vines grow on, which in this region is quite varied, but where the heavens aligned and gave Domaine Romanée-Conti the best possible growing conditions.

With a wine this famous, there was bound to be trouble at some point. That point came in 2010 when the vineyard owner received a mysterious note with a map of his vineyard showing a couple of specific areas. The note said that the vintner could go there and see that the vines had been poisoned to verify that his whole vineyard was indeed in peril. The note promised that more poisoned vines would be found in 10-15 days. Aubert de Villaine, the owner of the vineyard checked the spot indicated on the map and indeed found that someone had injected the roots with weed killer. He simply thought to pull up those vines and replace them; however, the next note indicated that an unspecified number of vines had been poisoned over a long period of time somewhere in the vineyard and that when the growing season with irrigation began, the poisons would rise to the surface and kill the vines and their precious grapes.

Now here is the really interesting part. In order for the location of those poisoned vines to be known, de Villaine would have to pay 1 million euros to be given the location so as to neutralize the poison before the sap rose in the vines, and the vineyard was permanently destroyed. The stellar reputation and high dollar value of the wines from Domaine Romanée-Conti were in the balance. A cloak and dagger, cat and mouse game ensued in which de Villaine had to carefully find trusted law enforcement outside of the limited local area in case some of the locals were in on this criminal activity. He went to the French Police Nationale and got the help he needed. To read the whole story of this wicked plot and see how it ended (yes, the guy got caught), just go to “The Assassin in the Vineyard” at vanityfair.com.

So, no, “wine” and “poison” are indeed two words that should not be mentioned in the same sentence. However, as can be seen, just like poison and perfume, they have often gone together.

References for this article are found in the blue linked articles throughout the blog post.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming soon: Art, Artists, Money, and 90+ Point Wines to Spend It On.

All of this talk of poison may have affected me – hmmm, no. There is a reason I have Damien Hirst’s For the Love of God here. I want to point out to all those who think that artists like starving, that in fact, artists love money. Some of them in particular have literally increased the value of a bank note by simply drawing on it or signing it. Hirst’s diamond skull and his insistence that artists should be payed up front the thousands of dollars that their works will earn after being sold over and over on the secondary art market make for an interesting hypothesis.

For the Love of God by Damien Hirst, 2007. Image used for purposes of critique and review in accordance with Fair Use Policy.

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Veronese, the Elegant, Eloquent Sophisticate, and Soave, a Still, White Wine.

Detail of the Wedding Feast of Cana by Paolo Veronese, 1563. Click the image to magnify.

Here we have them. Yes, THEM! They are four great painters from the Renaissance in Venice. Three of them are near immortals, and the fourth did well enough to be included in the blockbuster museum show, Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese, Rivalries in Venice, at the Louvre, 2009. They painted in the 16th century’s Bella Maniera, also called Mannerism, period, in a climate that did not favor the fresco painting of the Florentines. These Venetians benefitted from what the seas brought to them, which included oil painting, a medium much better suited to damp Venice. Oil painting freed them to paint on canvas, glory in the rich colors that Venice is so famous for, and develop a secondary art market in which paintings could be sold from one owner to another, since paintings on canvas can be easily moved.

So who are these gentlemen showing off their skills in music, yet another art? Up front on the left is the man who painted the great painting The Wedding Feast at Cana (1563), based on the Bible story where Jesus turned water into wine to serve all the guests. When I speak of this painting, I truly do mean great, as it has huge dimensions: 22’3″ x 32′ (yes, that is feet!), which can now only be accommodated in the grand halls of the Louvre (see gettyimages.com). He, dressed in gold and white and playing a tenor viol, is Paolo Veronese, his head slightly turned to hear what Diego Ortiz, the master of the viola da gamba, is whispering in his ear. (Perhaps something about that water-to-wine event? No, probably the latest on which artist might be getting the next big commission.) In the shadows on the flute is Jacopo Bassano, the #4 painter who had quite a respectable career and was famous for painting dogs. Veronese honors him here with the dogs that are at the musician-artists’ feet. Next, looking quite civilized, is our enfant terrible, Jacopo Tintoretto, on the violin, and finally the grand old man and great master, Titian, playing the bass viol. What a charming way to present these grand masters of their day and also put the artists front and center in this painting with a cast of 130 different figures.

Detail from the Wedding Feast at Cana (1563.) A bit of a tribute to Jacopo Bassano, famous for his dog paintings.

Of Art and Wine has already looked at the rise of Titian (1488-1576), once a student of Giorgione (1480-1510), who took over after his master’s death to rise to international fame through his many commissions from foreign heads of state. We have also looked at the career of Tintoretto (1518-1594), who specialized in Venetian clientele, and was a master at gaining important commissions in the city of Venice. Now, it is time to turn to the third of these masters, Paolo Caliari, a.k.a. Veronese (1528-1588), known forever by the name of his birth place, Verona.

Here in a self-portrait c. 1558, we see Veronese after his first flush of success in Venice. He had arrived in 1553 after a brief stay in Mantua where his contact with Julio Romano, the former right-hand man to Raphael, had exposed Veronese to the ideas of Mannerism, including its emphasis on elegance and color, both of which were of keen interest to Veronese. One of the things apparent in the exhibition at the Louvre was the change in Veronese’s painting wrought by his exposure to Mannerism and to Venice.

Virgin and Infant with St. Joseph by Veronese, 1550

While the painting above was done for a church in Venice, San Francesco della Vigna, it was still early on in Veronese’ career and when he was not an inhabitant of Venice. Though his skill in compositon and in the rendering of drapery is quite masterful, the colors used are very much toned down, blending easily with gray to produce a somber, and appropriate religious tone. Compare this to the halls and walls of the Villa Barbaro which he painted in 1560-61, a few years after his move to Venice. It isn’t hard to note the colorful effects that the light of Venice had on his perception of color.

Interior painted walls of the Villa Barbaro, by Veronese c. 1560

Veronese had been born to a stonecutter and a woman who was related to Venetian nobility, the Caliari family. His talent became apparent when in his teens, so he was sent to work in the studio of a local artist. However, Veronese’s talent soon outshown that of the other artists in his environment, so off he went on the journey that led him to settle in Venice. Using the name Paolo Caliari to associate himself with a Venetian family of noble background, he made his way into Venetian society. His talent was such that Vasari, writing years later, referred to Veronese’s mature period as beginning at about the age of 25! He became known as a painter of great dramas, which showed off his ability to paint human figures and arrange them in poses familiar to the Venetians of his day. They were often set in grand banquet scenes for which the Venetians were famous. Below is an example. It is the Feast in the House of Levi, along with a detail noting the principle participants.

This painting is enormous, of course. However, even with all the people, many of whom would be more familiar to the 16th century Venetians than to those in the time of Jesus, one does notice that at the table are Jesus and his Disciples. They are present because this consortium of people and animals (a dog and a cat are prominently in front of the table) was originally called, The Last Supper. Compared to Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, and those of a number of other painters of the day, all of whom focused on the principle characters at that sacred event, Veronese’s version is full of all kinds of other people and seemed far too celebratory to say the least. Even though Veronese was well-known, often commissioned,and favored by Venetian high society, painting a Last Supper with this cast of characters just did not seem right to the Holy Inquisition, who said, “Oh ney ney” and called the painter before them to do some explaining.

Though Venice had long maintained its independence even from the church, once actually sending some of the Church’s delegates back to Rome, the Holy Inquisitors were still nothing to be toyed with. Veronese may have been sweating at the thought of thumscrews to his delicate painter’s fingers, but his verbal abilities did not leave him as he told the Inquisitors that painters were like poets. They were inspired beings who were really not responsible for where the inspiration led them. However, upon looking at the painting, it most probably should be considered a painting of the Feast at the House of Levi and not a Last Supper. As the Inquisitors nodded, he assured them that it really was the Feast at the House of Levi and that he had simply been confused in his creative frenzy. He told them he’d change the name of the painting. They agreed and let him off with a warning about gaining some self-control.

Paradise in the Doges’ Palace in Venice. c. 1588 Domenico Tintoretto and the Studio of Tintoretto

The painting above was to be Veronese’s great masterpiece. It is a representation of Paradise. Veronese, a long-time friend of Jacopo Bassano and his family, had gained the commission from the Doge to paint this great wall in the room of the Grand Council. He was to do it with Francesco Bassano, the son of his friend, in a move that would have well-enhanced the career of Francesco, whose own father, Jacopo, was growing old. Everything was set for this prestigious work when suddenly Veronese died. The Doge and his council did not feel that Francesco could pull off this work without Veronese, and with Titian having died some years before, the studio they turned to was that of Tintoretto. Tintoretto himself was getting on in years, yet he was able to guide his son Domenico, who was the chief artist for this painting. Sadly for Francesco, with the loss of Veronese, he was left floundering. His father, Jacopo, died in February, 1592, and a few months later, Francesco committed suicide. One can only wonder how different things might have been had Veronese lived.

For those of us who love art, even though Veronese did not live as long as Tintoretto or Titian, he left us with such lovely, elegant works. His banquet paintings are so famous they have become the subject of a wonderful study by Kate Hansen on his Wedding Feast at Cana. It is called “The Language of the Banquet” (rochester.edu.) and takes a detailed look at the meaning in this painting that caused it to be said that “Paolo is praised with eternal fame.”

Vineyard painting from the Villa Barbaro by Veronese.

Sources for this article are the catalog for Titien, Tintoret, Veronese, Rivalités a Venise, published by Musée du Louvre Editions, 2009, and Dossier de L’Art #217, Veronese Exposition a la National Gallery, Londres, April, 2014.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author’s page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Soave, a smooth, delicate, still white wine

A glass of Soave and a view of the vineyard that yielded it. Photo credit to news.italianfood.net

As we think of the elegant beauty of Veronese’s paintings and of those banquet scenes where wine flowed like water (or in the case of the Wedding Feast of Cana from water), there had to be room for one of the Veneto’s favorite wines, Soave. Like the French word we so often use for that which is elegant, suave, the Italian soave means the same thing and implies a soft touch. To the taste of fruits like peaches, honeydew melon, and citrus zest, it adds a Venetian bit of saltiness. With age, the really good Soave develops a rich oily tone with a touch of a nutty flavor both of which add zing to its taste.

Garganega grapes are the basis of Soave wines. Photo credit italyabroad.com

The pale, whitish-pink beauties in the photo above are the garganega grapes from which Soave is made. Grown in the Veneto in the areas around Verona and Vicenza, Garganega is also grown as far south as Sicily. Garganega grapes produce a pale yellow wine that is not particularly acidic and which can have the aromas of almond and white flowers (see link above). While Trebbiano di Soave grapes and even Chardonnay grapes can sometimes be used to make Soave, the real deal focuses on Garganega grapes.

Soave is one of Italy’s favorite wines and most wineries in the Veneto produce a Soave even though their main production might be Valpolicella or Prosecco. While those are sparkling wines, Soave is a still wine, so there are no bubbles. To get the best Soave, one has to look for the wineries that specialize in making this particular wine. Just buying a well-known winery’s soave won’t necessarily give you the taste experience you want. So heed the advice of Ian D’Agata on vinous.com and choose a winery known for making Soave. There is also Soave Classico, which refers to this wine when made in the Veneto and from 70% Garganega grapes. In particular Soave Classico is made only from grapes grown in the original area around Soave, itself. This also can be something to look for when hunting for a great Soave wine. Then make sure to serve it chilled, somewhere around 45 degrees Fahrenheit, to get the best of a cool, smooth, delightful flavor.

Grilled prawns, a wonderful simple dish to serve with Soave. Photo Credit matchingfoodandwine.com

When it comes to foods to match with Soave, well Venice is on the sea, in fact not unlike the Goddess Venus, Venice came out of the sea itself, as it stands upon hundreds of thousands of piles driven into the ground below the water. That means that seafood is a perfect match for Soave. Fiona Beckett on her site Matching Food and Wine (see link above) gives about a half-dozen great recipes for shrimp, any of which would work well with Soave. However, do not leave out clams, calamari, and salmon with asperagus or fresh tuna with penne pasta.

So while you dream of a visit to Venice to see some of Veronese’s best works in situ, enjoy some of this wonderful wine, which can still be had for a moderate price. If Venice is too far away for the moment, you can still travel by joining a wine club. Cellars Wine Club offers a good selection of imported wines.

Cellars not only has an Imported Wine Club, it also offers a great deal on cases of imported wines. The wines are selected by the experts at Cellars and come with tasting notes to enhance your tasting experience. The shipping is free and there is a “no bad bottle” return policy. It is a wonderful way to explore the world and the world of wine. Click here cellarswineclub or go to Pages on this blogsite to Cellars Wine Club.

Note:Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com  and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming soon: Art History C.S.I. and Wine and Poison, a Lethal Combo.

Masaccio Self-portrait from the Brancacci Chapel c. 1422

Masaccio, a nickname for Tommaso or Thomas, can mean either “Big Thomas,” or “Messy Thomas,” or “Dirty Thomas.” They might all apply in this case. Masaccio was the painter who kicked off the 15th century’s Renaissance in painting that happened in Florence. His work at the Brancacci Chapel revolutionized painting as it was known at that time. Born in 1401 and dead in 1428, Masaccio died in mysterious circumstances in Rome, perhaps over a dispute about a recipe for red paint.

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“L’enfant terrible” of Venice and Which Wine, Which Glass?

Jacopo Tintoretto Self Portrait, Venice, 1546.

What do you see when you look into those eyes? Perhaps determination with a touch of defiance? And that face, what does its expression say about its owner? One may see a strong will, seriousness, and shrewdness, but I think one can also see what has been called his “devouring ambition.” Even in this painting, rather than showing himself in a calm, dignified pose, like Titian, we see his right arm raised as if painting. He looks at us as though we are the mirror he is using as he paints his self-portrait. This man is always at work, always moving ahead, setting a standard, and beating the odds to carve out his space and fortune in the competitive arena of the 16th century’s Venetian painters.

Of course, amid the lavish wealth of Venice and the Venetian Republic, what was the son of a humble cloth dyer (il tintore) to do? Well, Jacopo Robusti (1518-1594) took his talent, and what his father’s workshop had taught him about colors and business, out into the wealthy world of Venice to make his mark. Not forgetting his roots, he focused his painting career on Venice and its wealthy patrons, using the name Tintoretto (the little dyer) as a sign of his authenticity.

Self-portraits of the three greatest painters of the Venetian Renaissance: Titian, Tintoretto, Vernonese.

There they are. The three greats of Renaissance painting in Venice. Titian, himself an ambitious man, who as a young painter, challenged his master Giorgioni’s talent as they painted the façade of Fondaco dei Tedeschi; Tintoretto, in an unusually candid, front-facing portrait he slyly called, Portrait of a Man, the man being himself in middle age; and Veronese, a charming, talented sophisticate, who when brought before the Holy Inquisition, claimed that artists like poets were divinely inspired, therefore, not completely responsible for what they did. (He changed the name of the painting in question to please the inquistors, but that story is TO BE CONTINUED…)

Tintoretto started at the age of twelve in the studio of Titian, a painter known for his wealthy clients, both locally and abroad, one of those foreign clients being the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain, Charles the Fifth. Tintoretto was such an irritant to Titian, that the older, highly regarded artist threw this upstart teenager out of his studio. Tintoretto immediately took up the mantle of Titian’s primary rival, Pondenone, who had just died, and proclaimed his focus to be on the style of Central Italy, one that pleased some of Titian’s clients, most notably Pietro Aretino, who then commissioned work from Tintoretto.

Pietro Aretino was a poet, racconteur, art dealer, promoter, and general man of many talents, one of which was the use of his acerbic wit. His tongue was so sharp that people paid him not to publicly assault them with his words. Here, in a portrait by Titian, he commented on his disappointment in how Titian had rendered his fine robes, saying that probably had he paid extra, the artist would have rendered the satin and velour in more elaborate detail. When he sat for Tintoretto, however, Tintoretto threathened him about making nasty comments about the painting, so there were none.

The painting of the 16th century Renaissance Bella Maniera (Mannerism) often featured the retelling of stories from the classics that had men ravishing women, who were then to do the appropriate thing, like commit suicide. The most commonly painted story with such an end was that of Tarquin and Lucretia. The thing that concerns us here is an innovation that Tintoretto makes in his telling of the story.

Tarquin and Lucretia by Tintoretto, c.1570 Art Institute of Chicago artic.edu Click on image to magnify.

As the dastardly deed unfolds, Tintoretto uses what modern filmmakers call a “freeze frame.” Here the artist chose not to show the pearls from the broken necklace just lying on the floor, but to freeze the picture with the pearls falling through midair. This stylistic touch adds to the drama of the scene. In a film version, the camera might cut away from the violence at that moment and show just those pearls dropping to the floor to represent what was taking place off camera. Innovations like that in Tintoretto’s painting may have been one of the reasons why David Bowie called the artist “a proto-rock star.” Bowie was one of the few private collectors who owned a Tintoretto painting (Angel Fortelling St. Catherine of Alexandria of Her Martyrdom). The man who purchased the painting from the Bowie estate has placed it in the Rubens House Museum in Antwerp, as Rubens was also a great lover of Tintoretto’s work.

The stories of the naked ladies in distress had a number of versions, one of which is not only one of my favorite stories of that type, as the men get what they deserve for their evil actions, but it is also the subject of my favorite Tintoretto, Susanna and the Elders.

Susanna and the Elders, by Tintoretto, 1555-1556. Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, Austria. Click on image to magnify.

I saw this painting at a wonderful show in the Louvre called Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese, Rivalries in Venice, 2009. I had always associated Tintoretto with those paintings of saints that come flying into scenes to save the day, supernatural supermen. However, this story was a more common one of two old men who spy on a beautiful young woman in the privacy of her garden. They try to proposition her for sex. When she flees to her house to get away, they say they are going to tell that they caught her, a married woman, having sex with a young man who was not her husband. By the laws of the time, adultery was punishable by death. They told their story, but the prophet Daniel had the wisdom to have the two accusers questioned individually about the details of what they had seen. They had two completely different stories, so it was they who were judged and sentenced to death.

When I saw this painting, I was captivated by how beautifully Tintoretto had painted the decorative elements in the painting. From the hedge of roses with its many blooms, to the faint reflection of Susanna’s leg in the crystal clear water, to the vanity items of her clothing, her pearls, the chalices and most of all the elaborate braids and ornaments in her hair style, this painting is such a joy to look at. The contrasts in light and dark make the garden scene magical as they at the same time hint at the evil intent of the two elders. Susanna is lit in quite a bright light, the source of which is hard to figure as she is sitting behind that dark hedge. However, the idea is to show her innocence, while the elders are shown literally as “creeps,” for one haunts the far end of the hedge like a spectre, as his companion pokes his bald head down around the hedge on the other end.

The other aspect that is so interesting in this painting is Tintoretto’s take on the subject of reflection. Giorgione in the early 1500s had worked with the idea of reflective surfaces as a way to show many sides of a painted 2D figure. The use of the mirror and other shiny surfaces began to appear in paintings of women looking at themselves in mirrors, their faces set in a mood of inner reflection as they saw their physical features reflected back to them. Many years later Tintoretto takes on the theme in his picture of Susanna, who does indeed gaze into her mirror, cast at such an angle that she would see herself face-on, but we only see part of her clothing reflected. One of her legs has a minimal reflection in the little pool of water on the edge of which she sits. However, her image would also be reflected in the cornea of the eyes of the two elders, who see her each from different sides. In a sense she is seen almost in the round though she is a 2D image.

One must admire the business acumen of Tintoretto, here seen in another self-portrait. He was a champion at “niche maketing” as he left the overseas, foreign commissions to Titian and others, concentrating instead on the local clientele of Venice. Circulating among those local clients, he was known for undercutting his competition in price. He painted fast and sold some 300 works during his career. He was certainly crafty when it came to outfoxing his competition for commissions.

One of the most amusing tales of sculduggery in terms of gaining a commission is that of the competition for the painted dome of the Scuola di San Rocco. Tintoretto had decided that San Rocco was his to paint. When the artists were called to bring in their sketches for the project, they came, as the elegant Veronese did, with wonderful designs and eloquent proposals. Tintoretto told the decision makers to just go up to the room and look up. There on the ceiling was his fully painted design for the dome. He’d used his contacts within the Scuola to get the measurements and had workers help him attach the finished canvas in place. Yes, he got the commission and most of the rest of the Scuola’s commissions as well.

Yet in all that he never forgot something he had learned in the studio of his master and rival, Titian. While he favored the drawing of central Italy and Michelangelo in particular, he remembered his old master, too. In Tintoretto’s studio was a sign that guided the artistic production of that studio. Loosely translated it read: “The drawing of Michelangelo and the colors of Titian.”

Source for this article: Titien, Tintoret, Veronese, Rivalités a Venise, the catalog from the 2009/10 exhibition of the same name, published by Musée Editions du Louvre.

For another look at the story of Susanna and the Elders in painting, go to the Art Blog at vernellestudio.com to “The Indecent Proposal:Susanna and the Elders, as seen by Tintoretto, Gentilleschi, and Benton.”

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com, her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Which glass, which wine? Help has arrived.

The aftermath of a wine tasting with food pairings in Gigondas, France. Click image to magnify.

I know the picture above is confusing. It surely reinforces your anxieties over choosing the right glass in which to serve your guests their wine. However, it is a cherished photo of a fabulous lunch made of samples of different wines (see the bottles on the menu) and food pairings to go with them. This I experienced with friends in the village of Gigondas, in the Vaucluse, the heart of Provence’s wine country. Fond memories aside, and sorry for startling you all with this confusion of glasses, it is time to get down to sorting this all out. Let’s start with white wines.

The basics of white wine glasses. Photo credit to vintageroots.co.uk Click the link for a good article on the subject.

Here white wine is simplified to the basics, focusing on the three main white wines most commonly drunk. You will notice the Chardonnay glass has a “bowl” with a wide opening. Chardonnay comes in three varieties, one of which is oaked, meaning it has matured in oak barrels, which gives it a buttery taste. To allow full appreciation of that taste, which has taken years to produce, the glass must allow more air to circulate when the wine is swirled in the glass, hence the larger more open bowl. The glass for Sauvignon Blanc has a more closed in rim and even a sturdier “stem,” which is one of the places one should hold a wine glass (or by the “base”) since holding it by the bowl warms the wine with the heat from your hands and robs some of the flavors. It also leaves icky-looking fingerprints. Sauvignon Blanc has fruit flavors of apple, peach and lime. A glass with a narrower opening allows those aromas to stay more in the glass so you can get the benefit of them. Riesling is a light, dry, crisp wine served in a similar glass for similar reasons. It is a bit smaller in size, but the wine-glass patrol will not write you a citation if you use the larger Sauvignon Blanc Glass.

Types of red wine glasses. Photo credit to vintageroots.co.uk

While it is possible to go absolutely crazy choosing red wine glasses, these four do the trick for most occasions. The Cabernet/Merlot glasses often come in the biggest size for wine glasses. That has to do with the need to swirl the wine to aerate it to bring out the flavors. In fact it and Shiraz (notice the similarity in glasses) both need time to develop once poured, so the open mouth format allows the air to enter and mingle with the wine. Bordeaux has a bowl that is more flared at the bottom, which allows for the swirling that it needs to aerate.

Pinot Noir, the most drinkable of the red wines, as it is food friendly and can be drunk before dining as well, has a special glass that is a bit different from the one shown above. Notice that the bowl is sometimes almost squared at the botton. It fits nicely into the hands which benefits the wine, as having it a bit warm brings out its flavors.

Flutes for sparkling wine. Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

Champagne, as always, is uncomplicated. It is all about the bubbles and the look. Above we have the classic “flute” for drinking sparkling wines. The idea there is to keep the bubbles in. After all it was the bubbles that made Dom Perignon think he was “drinking the stars.” On the other hand the open bowl champagne glass called a “coupe” is an elegant remnant from old Hollywood movies and a memoire from the life of King Louis XV’s mistress, Mme de Pompadour, for the shape is modeled on the size of her breast. (Whatever were they doing?) Photo credit to Alina Nichepurenko of Unsplash.com

Finally we have those nice, and often very pretty little glasses used for drinking sweet dessert wines or having an after dinner sherry, port, vin santo, etc. For this, one needs only a beautiful glass to hold just a tasteful amount of one of these fortified wines. To top a fine meal off, it would not be out of order to go full Venetian in your choice of glasses, in memory of Tintoretto.

Murano decorated wine glasses Photo credit to picclick.co.uk

Should you decide that you really want a deep dive into wine glasses, here is the website for you, homestratosphere.com, which has an article on 18 types of wine glasses! Should you want to explore the difference that crystal makes over plain glass or heaven forbid plastic, check out this video by Dini Vino on youtube.com

Of course, to experiment with all these choices of wine glasses, it is helpful to have a good source of wines. For that, a wine club comes in handy. Cellars Wine Club offers a variety of choices of clubs, free shipping, a “no bad bottle” return policy, and tasting notes on each wine. Click here CellarsWineClub.com or go to the Cellars page on this blogsite (right hand column).

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Veronese, the Elegant, Eloquent Sophisticate and Soave, a Still White Wine.

Detail of the painter musicians in Veronese’s The Wedding Feast at Cana 1563.

This detail from the Wedding Feast at Cana is a fascinating story in itself. This little scene centers on four of the famous painters of the mid-16th century in Venice, i.e. Veronese and his homies: Titian, Bassano, Tintoretto. (The one in white and gold, is Veronese, himself.) Veronese was a suave sophisicate and fabulous painter that rounded out the rough edges of Tintoretto, gracefully challenged the success of Titian, and here showed off both his mastery of color and his musical skills. Needless to say, the only Venetian wine that suits him would be Soave.

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Return of the Gothic and Wine’s Phylloxera Epidemic.

Test your Gothic: Some are Gargoyles and some are Grotesques. Do you know which is which?

Okay, let’s see who passed the test. First, I know some of you may have peeked at Google to see what we call these things that hung about Notre Dame de Paris. Google would have told you, generically, they are called Gargoyles. Au contraire mes chers amis, only the ones on the right are truly gargoyles. The ones on the left are grotesques. These horrible looking fantasy creatures supposedly protected the church from malevolent spirits, a sort of fighting evil with evil approach. On the right are the gargoyles, their open mouths allowed the water draining from the roof of the building to shoot out away from the walls to protect them from getting soaked. It was rather spectacular to see the gargoyles in action as I walked one rainy day on the north side of the church. As the water fell onto the sidewalks in spouts a few feet apart, a look up presented the view of those open mouths spilling forth streams of rainwater. The decided grimaces on these creatures took me right back some 800 years when Europe had fully emerged from the Dark Ages into what we now know as the Gothic.

However, before we get too far into how Gothic art and architecture were revived and reinvented, let’s get clear on the term. At the time of its existence as an international style for architecture (roughly 1150-1500), it was not known as Gothic. If you notice the end date for Gothic, you will see that it overlaps with the first of the Renaissance, and therein lies the tale of its name. Renaissance means rebirth and referred to a reemergence of the classics from some dark and barbarous period that had come just before. Therefore, that period had to be called by a name that conjured up those feelings of barbarity. Among the most terrifying of those “barbarians” were the Goths, hence Gothic became the name for that preceding period. To see the history of this architecture and see how unbarbaric it truly is, watch this video from Easy Architecture youtube.com

One might ask just how this revival of the art of ages gone by became all the rage in the 19th century. For this, we have to turn once again to Notre Dame de Paris, which stood solidly over the very heart of France for centuries. Unfortunately one currently has to write in the past tense about the Gothic beauty of Notre Dame de Paris because of the fire that destroyed so much of it in 2019. However, that was not the only time the church has suffered destruction and had to be redone. During, and for a while after, the French Revolution which started in 1789, Notre Dame de Paris was used as a stable and a cow barn. Worse yet, there were those who just wanted to tear the old church down, as was being done to churches all across France in the wake of the Revolution.

To the rescue came novelist Victor Hugo, who called this desire to raze the medieval building to the ground “architectural vandalism.” His response was to write a novel about the old church and its famous bells, all ten of which have names. The original title of his novel was Notre Dame de Paris, but it has become known as The Hunchback of Notre Dame in reference to Quasimodo, who, had he been an actual person, might have swung from the biggest and oldest bell, Emmanuel. However, Hugo was not the only one involved in trying to save France’s medieval past. He was joined by a masterful and creative artist, architect, designer, and historical decorator (my term), named Eugène Viollet le Duc, known as the man responsible for the Gothic Revival.

Mont Saint Michel, Normandy, France. unsplash.com

Above we have a photo of one of the most outstanding and iconic works of what we have come to call Gothic architecture, Mont St. Michel. It is also a building that Viollet le Duc worked to restore. Mont St. Michel has a natural location that was easily defensible, making it useful as a garrison. However, in the 8th century, the bishop of Avranches had a dream in which St. Michael told him to build a church there, hence the church that sits atop the mountain. As you can see in the photo above, it has a perfectly medieval, Gothic look. Viollet le Duc took on the renovation of the church and the cloistered garden in the abbey. The Gothic look was enhanced by the narrow cobblestone streets that wind up to the top of the mountain. He was, of course, not responsible for all the souvenir shops, boutiques, galleries, and restaurants that line the streets today. Ah tourism!

The heraldic shield of Mont St. Michel shows its connection to the waters of the sea. Until the building of a permanent bridge in 2018, the mountain was completely cut off from the mainland when the high tide came in. Anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out there as that tide came in – well, let’s just say they got to “swim with the fishes.” Of course low tide was also dangerous, as what might appear as solid ground was often actually quicksand. All this may be why the resident population is still only 30.

However, when we think of the romantic wonder of Mont St. Michel, the majesty of the huge cathedrals like Notre Dame de Paris or Chartres, or the astonding beauty of Sainte Chapelle (Paris), we realize that even in its original form, Gothic, was very sophisticated, very detailed in its decoration, and outstanding in the beauty of its wonderous stained glass windows. There is nothing shabby about Gothic at all, and Viollet le Duc saw that and ran with it.

Sainte Chapelle, Paris. The Holy Chapelle of King Louis IX, built in 1248. Redecorated in he 1860s by Viollet le Duc. Photo from pixabay.com

Sainte Chapelle is a wonderful experience of both Gothic and Gothic Revival work. The building was built as a life-size reliquary to hold treasures that King Louis IX had acquired from the middle east, including part of the Crown of Thorns, the Holy Sponge, a fragment of the True Cross, and a stone from the Holy Sepulchre. Its stained glass is famous, with some fragments stored in the Cluny Museum, but with seven of its original windows still in place in the chapel. However, much of the decorative work inside was inspired by the years of study that Viollet le Duc did on medieval French architecture. He made critical decisions about what was to be painted and what was to be left alone. For instance, most churches in the middle ages were painted on the outside. They were not the gray stone that we see today. Viollet le Duc left them in the gray state that people had become accustomed to. However, while the interiors of the great cathedrals were almost never painted, he decided that “…we do not doubt that the edifice was conceived to receive this decorative complement.” (Viollet le Duc, French Gothic Revival, p. 64). What this means is that what we see inside is more creation that a restoration.

Cluster Columns in Sainte Chapelle

Viollet le Duc did not create the designs purely from imagination but did extensive research in historical studies of fabrics, ornamentation, and goldwork. The richly painted and gilded walls, columns, and statues that one sees in his renovated buildings all work in color harmony to delight the eye, and in the case of Sainte Chapelle work in conjunction with the beauty of the sunlit stained glass windows. For more on his work, and how it also influenced Gothic Revival in England, see victorianweb.org and the article “Decorative Elements at La Sainte Chapelle, Paris.”

Now, we return again to Notre Dame de Paris, which having suffered that devastating fire in April of 2019, must once again be reconstructed. The debate is on about how traditional it should be versus how modern it should be. The president of France promised it would be done in five years, but stonemasons who work in traditional format say that is impossible. On the other hand, there are more modern ideas, including a version with a glass and steel roof containing a full garden atop the church for visitors to enjoy. See this video youtube.com, and after you watch it, tell me what you think Viollet le Duc would say about that design.

To get a better idea about the evolution of the Gothic, see this little video, Gothic Revival:Design in a Nutshell youtube.com. It focuses on the history of Gothic in England, but basically it works for everywhere else as well.

Source material for this post: Viollet le Duc, the French Gothic Revival by Jean-Paul Midant, translation into English by William Wheeler, 2002.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

The Phylloxera Epidemic: What? Grapes can have epidemics!

Phylloxera infected grape vines. Photo credit decanter.com

I can’t say that it is any comfort in this time of global pandemic to note that plants can suffer their own global bouts with pests, but indeed it can happen. Above you can see what happens to the grape vines when they are hit by Phylloxera vastatrix (Phylloxera, the Devastator). The culprit is an aphid that carries a louse that likes to feed on the roots of the grape vines, which produces the disastrous images like the one above. As we saw in the presentation of the Gothic Revival, France in the 19th century was full of transformative events. Unfortunately, the arrival of the plant louse from the phylloxera aphid was one of them, wiping out 2.5 million hectars of vineyards. (A hectar is 2.5 acres. I will let you do the math.) However, America saved the day (hurrah!), but that was after it was the cause of the infestation to begin with (oops).

In the 1850s there were experiments involving the grafting of American and French grape vines. It is thought that somewhere between 1858 and 1862, there were American vines carrying Phylloxera from Missouri into France, where it appeared in the vineyards and began spreading in 1863. The devastation continued in part until around 1930.

The Great French Wine Blight, as it was called, proved to be a threat to the whole of the European wine industry. However, George Hussmann, a viticulturist in Missouri along with an entomologist, Charles V. Riley, set to work finding root stock that was immune to the phyllocera aphid and brought those to France to graft onto the French vines. As can be expected any kind of bug investation is difficult to get rid of once it gets started, so the process of saving the French vines took long years. However, it was ultimately successful, and the two Americans were rewarded with much praise and recognition given by the French government. As well, there were French vignerons who fled to California with uninfected root stock to graft to California mission grapes that had been originally brought by the Spaniards. This hybridization of the vines helped start the California wine industry. George Hussmann moved to California after his time in France and is credited as the father of the Napa Valley wine industry. (See this link: experiencehermann.com)

Interestingly, at this same time a little accident on the part of some Chileans actually saved the Carménère grape, which has a root that does not take to grafting. This deficit of biology caused this dark red grape to fall into disuse in Europe. However, a few years before the phylloxera aphid hit, a few Chilean vinters took with them what they thought were Merlot vines, only to find out they were Carménère. Luckily Carménère thrives in Chile, which is a land free of phylloxera. It has become the basis of the Chilean wine industry with 96% of all the grapes grown in Chile being Carménère.

So it looks like all is well that ends well, at least for the moment. One thing we know about epidemics, pests, bugs, viruses, is that they always evolve because like everything else on the planet, they like to live, too.

For an interesting article on what wine might have tasted like before phylloxera hit France and the grafting with American roots began, “Phylloxera: The great escape” by Kerin O’Keefe shows how some vintners are using ungrafted vines to create the taste of yesteryear decanter.com. Speaking of taste, do not forget that a great way to taste lots of different wines, get tasting notes, and stay within your wine-tasting budget is to join a wine club. Cellars Wine Club offers a wide range of clubs for every level of enthusiasm and budget.  Just click here cellarswineclub.com or go to the Cellars Wine Club page in the right hand column.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming soon: “L’enfant Terrible” of Venice and Which Wine, Which Glass?

Susannah and the Elders by Jacopo Tintoretto 1555-1556

Yes, Jacopo Tintoretto was the wild child of the Lagoon (as Venice called its surrounding waters). He was a great painter with great competition from Titian and Veronese, among others. He fought for and won many a handsome commission and was very cunning in how he gained some of them. A realist and and earthy fellow, he famously said, “God, grant me paradise in this life; I am not sure I will attain it in the next.” Enfant terrible indeed. One sure way to feel a touch of paradise is to drink your wine in lovely glasses – Venetian handblown glass, perhaps – and to make sure you have the right glass for the right wine.

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The Lippis: Like Father, Unlike Son, and Vin Santo

The Fleeing Youth in St. John the Evangelist Resuscitating Drusiana by Filippino Lippi (1487-1502) Click on image to magnify.

All you have to do is look at the expression on the face of this young man to know that something is different about Filippino Lippi’s painting when compared to most other works from the same period. We have all seen the paintings of Botticelli, also done in tempera, in which the beautiful women are largely expressionless. Admittedly there is some drama in Botticelli’s representations of Zephyrus in The Birth of Venus and in Primavera, but they have none of the subtlety of Filippino’s handling of this youth’s face, where the eyes show a worried fear about what he is seeing as St. John the Evangelist raises someone from the dead. Those eyes say, “What am I witnessing here?” And the mouth begins to open in amazement.

I have to admit that I have always mourned the fact that Filippino Lippi’s work was overshadowed by the oil paintings of Leonardo and Raphael and those of the also wonderful Venetian painters like Titian, Tintoretto, and Veronese. They were all great masters, but Filippino was too. He just happened to paint in tempera, as was the custom of his father, Filippo Lippi, and his master teacher, Botticelli. To get an idea of how much difference in appearance there is between tempera and oil paint, I’ll refer you to a post “Venice: Have a Bellini on Me” at vernellestudio.com/blog.

Admittedly, Filippino died rather young in 1504 or 1507 (the experts disagree about the exact date), and he was painting in the age of the great frescoes, as he was born around 1457. In that sense he was a painter of his time, with his own career starting while in his teens in the studio of Botticelli, just before oil painting arrived in Italy with Antonello Da Messena and Giovanni Bellini in 1475. However, I am still going to make a case for Filippino’s greatness as part of the transition from the High Renaissance of the 15th century to that of the 16th century, which became the era of the Bella Maniera or so called Mannerism, known for its expressiveness.

Filippino Lippi self-portraits, from his teens into his twenties. Tempera fresco.

Filippino Lippi would have been used to seeing himself in paint, as his father Fra Filippo Lippi often used his baby son as a model for the Christ child (see the Of Art and Wine December 25th post on Fra Filippo, the Bad Boy Monk). What is interesting in these pieces is to see a certain honesty in the way the face ages from a rather plump-faced adolescent to the ever more slender and well-defined features of a man. Filippino had a very successful career during his lifetime. For instance, in the first half of the 1480s he was the person the Carmelites commissioned to finish the famous Brancacci Chapel, which had existed unfinished after the death of Masaccio in 1428. Masaccio’s work there is credited as being the opening bell of the Renaissance. The other artist painting in that chapel, Masolino, represented a style more akin to what was seen in medieval manuscripts. Filippino’s task was to finish the chapel and in a style that drew all the painting into harmony. When one sees the frescoes, though almost 60 years passed between its inception and its completion, the styles all work well together and look of a piece. Only upon more focused observation can one see the distinctions in the work of the three painters. However, in terms of Filippino’s use of emotive expression, one has to look at the Carafa Chapel in Rome and the Strozzi Chapel in Florence to see a unique quality in his painting.

Man catching a youth who fainted from the breath of a dragon from The Life of St. Philip the Apostle in the Strozzi Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence. Filippino Lippi (1487-1502). Click image to magnify.

In this group scene, one sees a variety of reactions to the event that is central to the story of St. Philip dispatching a pesky dragon. Dragon’s breath is obviously pretty powerful as it has caused a young man to faint away and fall into the arms of the man pictured above, who looks down on the youth with compassionate eyes. The woman to his left covers her nose to subdue the stench while she, too, looks sadly at the fainted youth. To the right of the central figure stand two men, both with eyes closed, heads turned away, and one with a decided grimace. The rich detail of the fabric in their turbans and the decoration on their clothing is precisely rendered, but the expressions on their faces tell the story. Lippi does not mind giving them the appropriate wrinkles and frown lines to go with their reactions, but once again it is the eyes that relate the feelings.

Filippino Lippi’s agonized high priest in St. Philip and the Dragon in the Strozzi Chapel, Florence. Click on image to magnify.

To the left of the action in the fresco of St. Philip and the Dragon is this priest who seems to be in agony over the destructive force of the dragon and perhaps his own inability to do anything about the horrible creature. The graying head resting in a thin-fingered hand, the detail of the white beard and the touch of white in the eyebrow, the groaning mouth, the curl in the nostril, and the furrowed brow all represent an old man’s despair. In this portion of the fresco we also see the expressive hands of another person, with one hand held up in a gesture of surprise while the other points at the dragon.

Heretic on the right in the life of St. Thomas Aquinas, painted by Filippino Lippi 1489 in the Carafa Chapel in Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome, Italy.

In 1489, Filippino Lippi was called to Rome to paint the chapel of the Carafa family, a family closely allied to the Medici of Florence. In this piece one sees a representation of the Persian prophet Mani, the founder of Manichaeism, a Gnostic religion, in which the material world was seen as evil darkness from which the light and good were being withdrawn over generations “from the world of matter to return to the world of light from which it came” (en.wikipedia.org). The main thing that Lippi accomplishes here is to show a face in doubt as the prophet considers the teachings of St. Thomas Aquinas. The expression seems to say, “I wonder.”

The thing I try to point out here is while Leonardo created the mystery of the Mona Lisa (though he also did well with showing the cries of warriors in battle) and Raphael painted impeccably beautiful and placid virgins, Filippino Lippi, working in those less rich tempera paints, was able to express emotions both dramatic and subtle, and that tendency to express emotion was a distinct attribute of his painting. In terms of Italian painting, he seems to me to be a bridge between the first part of the Renaissance to the latter part where realistic expression became part of the Bella Maniera. It also makes me wonder what he would have produced had he lived longer and moved into using oil paints like Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo.

A still life of books from the Carafa Chapel in Rome, Italy. Painted by Filippino Lippi c. 1489. Click the image to magnify.

Sources for this article come from Fresques Italiennes de la Renaissance by Steffi Roettgen, editor, and Denis-Arnaud Canal, translator into French. Citadelle Mazenod publishing, 2001.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Vin Santo, holy wine, but is it?

Vin Santo and some almond biscotti to make a Cantuccini, appropriate for welcoming guests. Photo credit en.wikipedi.org

Amber, that is the color of Vin Santo, a rich, glowing, golden-red amber. Supposedly a wine originally used in holy communion, Vin Santo is a straw wine (a wine made from grapes that are partially dried on straw before going through the wine making process) that has become a favorite dessert wine over the years. It even comes in a fortified version known as Vin Santo Liquoroso, which makes it function the same way as Port. Though it is widely used throughout Italy, Vin Santo, like Filippino Lippi, is a product of Tuscany.

The cantucci is a cookie, also like Filippino Lippi from Prato, and is known as the Biscotti de Prato. The cantucci is a cookie that is not overly sweet, so it pairs well with the sweet Vin Santo. The cookie also goes well with tea or coffee. For really expert advice on how to eat cantucci, one must heed the information from Eataly in “The Key to Cantucci” eataly.com. By the way, if you have not been to an Eataly – go! My experience of it was in Bologna a few years ago. It is a wonderful purveyor of all things Italian. I see that there is one now in one of my other favorite places to travel, Toronto, Canada, on Bloor Street West and Bay.

Now back to Vin Santo. The process of vinification can take quite a while. The grapes used normally are white grapes like Trebbiano or Malvasia, but sometimes a Sangiovese is used to create a rosé version of Vin Santo. The grapes are sun-dried for 6-8 weeks, after which they go through a slow fermentation process of 40-60 days. This is followed by aging in French oak barrels, and aging continues in the bottle. (see santowines.gr).

As mentioned earlier, Vin Santo was a wine used for various ceremonies in the church. Here a scene from Les Tres Riches Heures de duc de Berry in the Communion of the Apostles. Now, of course, it has taken on the functions of many another dessert wine, often being served with fresh fruit, cheeses, nuts or light sweets like cantucci. It can be used as a sort of welcoming gesture when guests arrive. Certainly a good way to chit-chat over the details of the guest’s trip or just to catch up a bit on old times.

A Santorini Cavern Lava Cake with Vin Santo. Photo credit to dianekochilas.com

The recipe for the wonderful looking dessert above comes from a specialist in Greek cooking, Diane Kochilas (click link above). She pairs the dessert with Vinsanto, a favorite in Greece, as it makes the taste of the dessert “explode with flavor.” Should you want something less explosive, you might try a plate of strong cheeses, or just a creamy Gorgonzola. The wine should be served at slightly less than room temperature or somewhere around 60 degrees and served in a wide-mouth glass. However, for the total experience, you must have the cheese and the Vin Santo while looking at a folio of paintings by Filippino Lippi.

Vin Santo is often found in the 90+ category of wines and guess what? Cellars Wine Club has a 90+ wine club with wines ranked using the same scale as Wine Spectator. Cellars also has free shipping, a “no bad bottle” return policy, and tasting notes to go with each wine. Just click here cellarswineclub.com or go to the Cellars Wine Club page in the right hand column.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2021

Coming Soon: Return of the Gothic and Wine’s Phylloxera Epidemic.

Eugène Viollet le Duc is the architect responsible for what we now most often consider Gothic architecture. He is the man who reinvented the Gothic style that we see in so many of the churches and castles of France. Here we see his drawing of the façade of the church in Vézelay. He was a 19th century phenomenon. Unfortunately there was another very different phenomenon at that time, the phylloxera fungas which nearly wiped out wine production in France.

Featured

The Bad Boy Monk, and Holiday Dessert Wines.

Madonna and Child with Two Angels by Fra Filippo Lippi, c. 1460 Click image to magnify.

It’s the Christmas season, and in the Western world, images showing the story of the Christ child’s birth are everywhere. Many of these come from the Renaissance and are done by the famous painters of that age. Most were simple commissions, but some of them have more to the story than what is shown in the painting. We will get to what other story is being told here in a moment. For now, let’s just look at this painting.

A beautiful young woman, Mary, sits with her hands clasped as though in prayer with eyes downcast, as two angels lift up her newborn son. One of the angels looks out at us with a smile on his face, so happy he is to be present at this moment. The other angel’s face is rudely obscured by the child’s arm, but the child is Jesus. The baby reaches in a realistic fashion for his mother. Her hair is done up under a somewhat transparent headdress of the type worn by middle-class women in 15th century Italy, and her dress one common to that period. The angels themselves seem to be dressed like choirboys. It is said that this was done to make the figures more relatable to the people of the time, as if to say,”See, they are just like us.”

This painting takes it even further by having the Madonna and the angels come out of the picture frame (notice it is a frame not a window) to be even closer to the viewer, as if they are moving into our reality. Mary even casts a shadow on the picture frame like a real physical object would. Mary, as well, is decidedly a very pretty young woman and a very appealing one. The baby, unlike many that had been painted of the Christ child, actually looks like a real baby, not a small half-naked adult, which was a common look in the middle ages. One may ask, why is the focus on such realism? Why are the figures being drawn near to us? What does this Carmelite friar know about soft beautiful women and chubby cuddly babies?

Time to introduce the painter of this masterpiece, Fra Filippo Lippi (1406-1469). As opposed to his more pious companion in this picture, Coronation of the Virgin (1441-1447), in which all eyes are on the proceedings, Lippi, in this self-portrait seems to have his mind elsewhere. (You can see the full painting here travelingintuscany.com.) That look makes you wonder if while confessing your sins to this priest, would he confess his to you? And many the sins there were. A lustful fellow, he left the monastery at age 30 though he remained a friar his whole life. He was involved in various money scandals, lying, and cheating, but the biggest was when at age 50 he seduced a beautiful 20-year-old nun, Lucrezia Buti. In fact he more than seduced her; they ran off together and had a baby son.

Scandalous? Yes, but not necessarily unheard of in those days, as this nun’s convent was picked clean of its beautiful young acolytes until the only one left was the mother superior, who then died. So why was all this hanky-panky allowed? Well, it’s complicated. The main complication is how some of these people came to be monks and nuns to begin with. In Lippi’s case, he was orphaned at the age of eight and was given into the care of the Carmelites. While he loved and venerated the Carmelite order, he just wasn’t cut out to be a priest. As for Lucrezia and her sister, becoming nuns was the way to escape disasterous marriages. Obviously, people being people, there were any number of odd circumstances not in keeping with the dictates of these holy orders. However, in Lippi’s case, he had an ace in the hole, and that was his talent, something much prized by Cosimo de Medici, who literally ruled Florence at that time.

Some stories about Lippi have him taken into the Carmelite order after he was found drawing in the dirt, creating magnificent figures. He certainly would have seen the great Masaccio working on the Brancacci Chapel inside Santa Maria del Carmine (1420-28), making his figures come to life in a style of rendering not seen since before the Dark Age. It would have been a great surprise to Lippi at that early time to know who would finish painting that chapel some 60 years after Masaccio’s death in 1428. That aside, Lippi became the greatest artist in Florence after the death of Fra Angelico in 1455. As such, he had the protection of Cosimo de Medici, who smoothed over this little business of the seduction, the getaway, and the child. Of course Lippi had to produce wonderful things for his patron. One of the most wonderful of which is the painting below, The Adoration in the Forest (1459). Done as the crowning glory of the Medici Chapel which pictures the journey of the Wise Men to adore the holy child as presented in this painting, it is one of the most mystical versions of what is considered a familiar scene in the iconography of Christianity.

The Adoration in the Forest by Fra Filippo Lippi, 1459. Originally done for the Medici Chapel, a copy is now in the chapel. The original is in the Gemaldegalerie in Berlin. Click image to magnify.
Detail from Adoration in the Forest showing the delicate gold work which falls from this point in spirals of golden points of light down to where the enfant lies. Click image to magnify.

This painting is unusual in so many ways. It is not the normal scene of a nativity set in a stable with a cow and a donkey peeking in from a side stall, Joseph holding a lantern, an assortment of shepherds, and a star shining in the distance guiding the caravan bearing the three Magi. Here the setting is a dark rocky outcrop within the density of a forest. John the Baptist as a child stands on the left already wearing his hairshirt. Above him is a praying figure. Some say it is St Romuald a favorite of the Medici family, or perhaps the Archbishop of Florence. Others claim it is St. Bernard de Clairvaux, known for his adoration and devotion to the Virgin Mary. Divine light falls from above in streams of golden sparkles that fall upon the baby lying on a bed of flowers. Mary, dressed in pale blue trimmed in gold, looks on in adoration, as was considered the appropriate way to show the Virgin and the newborn child since the vision of St. Bridget of Sweden in the early 1300s.

The painting was placed in an alcove designed for private prayer and is the culminating point for the grand Procession of the Magi painted by Benozzo Gozzoli in the Medici Chapel, showing the wonderful treasures that the three kings were bringing to give to the child. In a room originally lit only by candlelight, the procession is a giant nocturne, showing all the exotic products that merchants like the Medici were able to procure. All these were not for profit, but to be given in worship.

Of course, this was Cosimo de Medici’s way of trying to buy his way into heaven after having grown rich and powerful through his banking and trading efforts. The Church frowned upon lending money and charging interest, deeming it usury. Usury was a sin and forbidden. Cosimo in his last years was very much worried about not being forgiven for committing this sin, so he prayed fervently at this personal altar piece painted by Lippi, yet another sinner. Perhaps Cosimo felt it wise to show mercy to the notorious Lippi as a sign that he might in turn be granted the same.

Sins aside, the painting, which is sometimes called the Mystical Nativity, captivates the viewer by its odd setting and the wonderful use of gold to capture tiny points of light. (To see more on this painting with excellent photography look at this video on Filippo Lippi youtube.com.) The main benefit for Lippi was that Cosimo was well pleased, and Lippi was able to spend some happy years living in Prato with his family. There he painted the frescoes on either side of the altar in the Church of San Stefano. Not surprisingly, on one side in the story of John the Baptist, there is a version of Herod’s banquet in which dances a Salome with the familiar face of Lucrezia. On the opposite wall in the story of San Stefano, Lippi paints himself casting a side eye in the direction of Salome.

Salome Dancing in Herod’s Banquet and a self-portrait of Lippi in a crowd scene, both from the Church of San Stefano in Prato, Italy.

And what happened to the son, the one who modeled for the beautiful child lying on a bed of delicately painted flowers? Well, here he is. His name was Filippino. He became a painter, and quite a successful one. In fact, it was he who was chosen by the Carmelites to finish the paintings in the Brancacci Chapel nearly 60 years after all work on it had stopped. How that might have surprised his father, who as a boy had seen Masaccio creating those figures so life-like that they shocked the whole of Florence. But Filippino had his own story. (To Be Continued…)

Sources for this article include the Art in Tuscany articles on the Madonna and Child with Two Angels travelingintuscany.com and Adoration in the Forest travelingintuscany.com, as well as Medici Money by Tim Parks. Notes from an art history class and two personal visits to the Medici Chapel were also used.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Dessert Wines for the Holidays

Photo Credit to Hanxiao on Unsplash.com

It is rather a matter of sweets to the sweets when it comes to combining dessert wines with actual edible desserts. It requires some subtle balancing of levels of sugar and a happy bit of taste testing in order to get it just right. A few simple rules do apply. One is to match acidity with acidity. When this does not work, things go downhill really quickly. The other is to make sure the wine is sweeter than the dessert so that the wine’s taste is not deadened by the sugar in the dessert. Finally, and this is for aesthetics and to eliminate cognitive dissonance, match the color of the wine to the color of the dessert. Tim Hong, a certified sommelier, provides a quick and easy to remember guide to such matters in his video, “Best Guides for Dessert Wines,” youtube.com.

Sweet wines are developed in a number of ways. Some come from late harvest grapes. In fact one of the types of Riesling is known as spatlese, meaning late havest. These grapes have a greater concentration of sugars. Another way to increase the sugar content of the grape in relation to the water content is to use grapes suffering from “noble rot. ” This term refers to grapes that benefit from a fungus called Botrytis cinerea, which saps the water content, leaving more of the sugar in the grapes. Then there is ice wine, which was a discovery of necessity in 1794 in Franconia, Germany, when a sudden hard freeze came earlier than expected. To salvage something from the hurried harvest, the vinters created a sweet wine. The Canadians are currently the past masters of ice wines, even serving them inside an igloo, should that capture your fancy (see youtube.com).

Photo credit to Antoine Pouligny on Unsplash.com

Generally dessert wines come in three categories: Port and Madeira, Sherry, and Sweet Sticky. Port and Madeira tend to be more expensive but compensate for the higher cost by lasting longer once opened. The colors range from tawny to very dark brown and the taste includes caramel with some nuttiness. Madeira is not so sweet or dense as other ports. Sherry is often oxidized, which brings out the flavors of nuts and dried fruits. It pairs well with blue cheeses and aged Gouda.

Of course one must never forget sparkling wines with desserts. They can be very high in acidity and quite dry which can go well with desserts that are less sugary, like baked apples or apple tarts with shortbread crust. Sparkling Shiraz with its rather silky tannins actually goes well with chocolate desserts, whereas often the cocoa content in chocolate can come into conflict with the tannins in wine. This is especially true with dark chocolate. Aldo Sohm, owner of the Aldo Sohm Wine Bar in his video on pairing wine with desserts shows himself to be quite daring, but even he stays away from wine and dark chocolate. (youtube.com)

He does go on about using wines other than dessert wines to pair with desserts. Cabernets bring a freshness to the palate, while Gewurtztraminer being dry works well with desserts like rich fruit tarts. Though he shys away from dark chocolate and wine, there is a fearless someone who actually goes there. Of course, it is Madeline Puckette of Wine Folly. Madeline dives into three different pairings of wine and dark chocolate desserts in a taste adventure that is as amusing as it is informative. Don’t miss this! youtube.com

You can now spend the rest of the holiday season in comfortable assurance that you have the basics to avoid pitfalls in pairing wines, and dessert wines in particular, with your desserts. Should you want to continue the adventure, Cellars Wine Club has the perfect club for you in its Sweet Wines Club. From Riesling to Moscato any wine with 20g/L of residual sugar is covered. In addition there is a no bad bottle return policy and free shipping. cellarswineclub.com

So enjoy those desserts. It’s that time of year!

Photo credit to Volodymyr Tokar on Unsplash.com

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com  and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: The Lippis, Like Father, Unlike Son, and Vin Santo.

St John the Evangelist resuscitates Drusiana (1487-1502) Strozzi Chapel in Santa Maria Novella in Florence, italy. Click image to magnify.

When your father is a monk and your mother is a nun, there is a lot of drama in the family to say the least. It should be no wonder that one of the hallmarks of the painting of Filippino Lippi, son of Fra Filippo Lippi, would be the rendering of emotion. His early death allowed his work to be overshadowed by Raphael, but Filippino Lippi’s work is well worth consideration for its emotive beauty.

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Medici Politics, Botticelli’s Adoration of the Magi, and Christmas Wines.

The Adoration of the Magi by Sandro Botticelli, 1475. Wikimedia Commons Free Media Repository

French art historian, Daniel Arasse, wrote a book called On n’y voit rien (We Don’t See Anything) in which he pointed out all of the things in paintings that float past our eyes without leaving a blip on the screen of our awareness. So take a look at this masterpiece by Sandro Botticelli and tell me what you see. Yes, go ahead, talk. I know what you are going to say. “Well, there are Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus.” Okay, go on. “Uh, they are sitting in some old ruined building.” Good, what else? “There are a lot of people standing around who don’t look like shepherds.” Very good. Anything else? “Looks like the people are from the middle ages or something.” Well, the Renaissance. Does that seem strange to you? “Sure, these folks were not actually at the birth of Jesus, and what is that bird (is it a peacock?) sitting up on the building?” Ah, now we are getting somewhere. You are beginning to really observe. Very good. Any questions? “Yeah, what the heck is this all about?”

Let’s start with this guy who looks out from the lower right corner. He wears a yellowish colored robe, and we can muse on the many things that his facial expression might be saying to us.

This is a self-portrait of Sandro Botticelli, the man who was commissioned to paint this Adoration of the Magi. He was one of the favorite painters of the Medici family when they ruled Florence in the 15th century. Painters were normally considered to be just a type of servant class, workmen hired to do a job like a bricklayer or a carpenter. However, in the 15th century the royal courts of Europe began to realize the individual value of their artists. Duke Philip the Good of Burgundy, for instance, used painter Jan Van Eyck as a diplomat. Though Florence was a republic, it was lead by the Medici family, who were merchant bankers as rich and powerful as any royalty, and like the royals knew the value of art to enhance their prestige. Botticelli shows us here that he is well within the bosom of the Medici family and looks out at us as if to say, “You see me here. I’m in with the In-Crowd.”

The man facing out here is Gaspare del Lama, and he is even closer into the action of the painting, as would be appropriate for him as the man who commissioned this work. But why, you might ask, is he not right before the Holy Family? He’s paying for this painting, isn’t he? Well yes, but the painting has another purpose.

This is 15th century Florence after all and strategic thinking was of paramount importance. Gaspare del Lama was the son of a barber, who through the patronage of the Medici family rose in status as a banker himself and a financial agent for the Medici bank. As with all the wealthy of Florence, his family was able to have a chapel for itself inside of one of the city’s fine churches, Santa Maria Novella. This painting was to go inside the chapel and was designed to reflect del Lama’s appreciation for the Medici family, as well as showing in the crowd a number of other important Florentines whom the populace would have recognized. In other words, Gaspare del Lama was showing off his wealth, status, and good connections. So who are some of these other people, the real players in the life of that city-state.

This stately, gray-haired, richly dressed gentleman is Cosimo de Medici (1389-1464), known as Cosimo the Elder so as not to confuse him with his 16th century relative, Cosimo I, Duke of Tuscany. This Cosimo is the son of Giovanni de Bicci de Medici, the founder of the Medici Bank and merchant empire. Cosimo the Elder learned from his father two important things: keep your appearance low-key (Giovanni, though wealthy, rode a mule instead of a fine horse) and don’t give advice unless you are asked for it. These words of wisdom seem quite sound even in our day, though I don’t know about riding a mule.

Cosimo is seen here in the role of the oldest of the Wise Men (Magi) sometimes known as Gaspare in Italy (Balthazar in northern Europe – see my post on this name confusion at vernellestudio.com). As the eldest of the Magi, it was his duty to be front and center. In some paintings of that day, this elder man seems to be looking between the legs of the child as if to inspect to see if he is really a human baby boy. Botticelli treats that subtly here but certainly gives Cosimo pride of place. Note that at the time of this painting, Cosimo the Elder had passed on some years before, but would live on forever in this painting commissioned by someone showing his appreciation for Cosimo and his family.

Detail of Adoration of the Magi, with Piero and Giovanni de Medici, 1475 by Sandro Botticelli.

The two men pictured here are the sons of Cosimo the Elder. On the left in red is the heir apparent, Piero de Medici, known as Piero the Gouty because of his health condition. He, too, would be a patron of the arts, known in particular for commissioning Benozzo Gozzoli to paint the Medici Chapel’s famous Procession of the Magi (see The Medici Palace’s Procession of the Magi, ofartandwine.com).

Giuliano de Medici as seen in the Adoration of the Magi by Sandro Botticelli

This young man who bears something of a resemblance to Giovanni de Medici as shown above is actually one of two sons of Piero de Medici. More handsome than his brother Lorenzo, who is known as the Magnificent, because of his appreciation of culture and his patronage of the arts, Giuliano seems to have had a fascination with Simonetta Vespucci, whom he had his friend Botticelli paint a portrait of as Pallas Athena on a banner for a joust that he took part in. However, Giuliano met a tragic end on Easter Sunday in 1478 when the Pazzi Conspirators attacked the Medici brothers in church, wounding Lorenzo and killing Giuliano.

That leaves us with the last important figure in this painting, the young and rather arrogant looking Lorenzo de Medici (1449-1492) with a young friend or relative hanging on his shoulder. He and his chums seem more interested in something other than the Holy Family. Lorenzo looks in the direction of his father and uncle, while the friend on the far right actually has his hand extended, pointing in the direction of those members of Lorenzo’s family. The head of the white horse may be a reference to the Procession of the Magi by Gozzoli in which near Lorenzo is a magnificent white horse, a symbol of the power and grace of the coming generation of Medici rulers.

Lorenzo was certainly the greatest patron of the arts from the Medici family. He also took his duties as the leader of the Florentine republic seriously, including making deals with the Pope to not lay siege to the city and of course, dealing harshly with Pazzi conspirators after the attack on him and the murder of his brother in 1478. Botticelli was already a great friend of the Medici family, but it was Lorenzo who took the 13-year-old Michelangelo into his household to live and be educated along with his own children. Lorenzo’s love of the arts may have made him take his eye off the family banking business, for by the end of his life in 1492, the business was not doing well, with many of its branch banks closed across Europe. However, he will forever be known as a great patron of the arts, and his name and image are on the special prize given to artists who win in their categories the Lorenzo il Magnifico International Award in the Florence Biennale.

So Gaspare del Lama surrounded himself with the best, intending to perpetuate his fame and fortune into eternity. That is where the peacock comes in. It is a symbol of immortality. Unfortunately for Gaspare del Lama, the very next year, 1476, he was condemned for dubious financial dealings and fell into disgrace. However, he and his pride live on in this version of Botticelli’s Adoration of the Magi.

For more on the Medici, the arts, and Renaissance Florence go to the first two parts of the series, The Medici, Godfathers of the Renaissance youtube.com. For more on how the Medici built their fortune, read Tim Parks Medici Money, and there are also the two blog posts mentioned earlier in this article.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor ,and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com

Christmas Wines and Holiday Cheer!

Photo from Bon Coeur Fine Wines “Cracking Christmas Wine Pairings” bcfw.co.uk

The first question is “Are there really Christmas wines?” The answer is well, yes, sort of. We know about the special mulled wine recipes which add spices to heated wine. (For more on that see “Let It Snow: Snow Paintings and Mulled Wines” ofartandwine.com) However, when dealing with major holiday meals, the basic idea is to focus on what you are serving at what stage of the meal (or the festivities). Gathering that information beforehand can lead you to arrange a pairing of wines that work well with holiday foods and thus could be called Christmas Wines.

Never let us forget that Christmas is a great celebration, and nothing is more celebratory than a glass of bubbly. Not only is it perfect for toasting the season and one another, but it also goes well with little finger foods. Prosecco works wonderfully with tiny cubes of roasted tomato bruschetta. Champagne and a plate of Brie cheese is perfection itself.

Roast Beef Tenderloin with Red Wine Sauce from onceuponachef.com

For those not wanting to do the traditional bird (turkey, goose, etc), Jenn Segal of Once Upon a Chef provides a recipe for roast beef tenderloin with red wine sauce. She uses the year’s Beaujolais Nouveau for her sauce. As for what to drink while eating this hearty beef dish, she proposes any number of red wines from Merlot to Cabernet Sauvignon to Pinot Noir. I’d say a good Cabernet Sauvignon would work well, as it is a bit lighter than the Merlot but heavier than Pinot Noir.

Now that I mention Pinot Noir, what comes to mind are two of the other favorite dishes for the holidays: turkey and ham. Pinot Noir, often called the most drinkable of the red wines, goes very nicely with these two traditional holiday favorites. The wine often adds hints of fruit like cherries which go well with turkey or ham and with vegetarian dishes. Should you not want to do a Champagne toast, rest assured that a nice Pinot Noir makes for good pre-dinner sipping as well.

Orange Marmelade Roast Turkey from Clean Eating Magazine cleaneatingmag.com

Pamela Salzman of Clean Eating gives the recipe that resulted in this wonderful culinary creation. As well, she lists all you need to know about the nutritional content of this meal. While she does not talk at all about wines to go with this dish, when one thinks of turkey, a variety of white wines come to mind, but the king of them all would be Sauvignon Blanc. The Spruce Eats website (thespruceeats.com) recommends one in particular but also gives a rundown of appropriate holiday wines in its article, “10 Bottles of Christmas Wine Under $25,” by Wallace Levy McKeel.

For those in the group who really go non-traditional (like me), one can always head for the seafood counter and select snow crab or king crab to feast upon. Then one has a choice to ponder: Sancerre or Muscadet. Here in the U.S. in most of our local wine shops, it will be easier to find Sancerre, and it is a wonderful choice. (See this article for more information vinepair.com) However, if your wine shop carries more specialty items, you might be able to get Muscadet, a wine created in the Loire-Atlantic. It is perfection with seafood.

So there it is, a bit of a roundup of what one might call Christmas Wines. As I said at the outset, it really is about pairing the wines with each dish and each moment in time during your holiday celebrations. Should you want more ideas and commentary, look at this piece from The Wine Show youtube.com.

One of the things that might go nicely as a Christmas gift is a membership to a wine club. Cellars Wine Club has a club for every level of wine enthusiasm and budget. With free shipping, a “no bad bottle” return policy, and tasting notes on each wine. Being in a wine club is a great way to end one year and ring in the new one. CellarsWineClub.com

Note: Of Art and Wine is an affiliate of  Bluehost.com  and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: The Bad Boy Monk, and Holiday Dessert Wines.

Madonna and Child with Two Angels, by Fra Filippo Lippi, c.1457.

So what happens when you are a talented orphan who is taken to a monastery to be cared for. You might just grow up to be a great painter, fall in love with a nun, and have a family (Oops!). The tale of Fra Filippo Lippi, his talent, and his many misdeeds is the stuff of legend. Of Art and Wine takes a look at this marvelous painter of the Italian Renaissance and prepares for you (Happy Holidays!) a little primer on dessert wines.

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Bonampak’s Temple of the Murals and Mayan Drinks.

The Procession of Musicians in Room 1 of the Temple of the Murals in Bonampak as they appear on the walls some 1200 years after they were initially painted.

When we think of murals, especially frescoes (paintings done in wet plaster), our minds go immediately to a place like Italy, where in the Renaissance great masters like Botticelli, Leonardo, and Michelangelo painted marvelous stories on the walls of the great cathedrals, monasteries, and public buildings. Yet in 790 AD in the rain forests of Chiapas, King Chan Muan, himself both a vassel of the more powerful king of Yaxchilan and married to a princess from that city-state, inaugurated this temple of murals with great ceremony and celebration. The question remains as to why the extraordinary quality and craftsmanship of these paintings were done in fresco and what exactly they mean to tell us. Regardless, they remain the finest example of painting in the pre-Columbian New World.

Maya civilization, Mexico, 9th century A.D. Reconstruction of Bonampak frescoes. Room 1: procession of musicians. Detail. britannica.com Click image to magnify.

The contrast is quite stark between the reconstructed versions of the murals and the way they look in situ on the walls of their temple in the forests of southern Mexico. Somehow the reconstructed ones don’t let the viewer fill in the richness of their ceremonial dress, imagine the sounds coming from the oversized rattles, or feel the slow rhythm of their movement. Yes, the rhythm of the movement, for this was a procession of time. Archeologists have noted that each of the five musicians with those rattles hold them in a position that represents one part of a complete movement of the ratttle. It is almost like a serialized version of a cartoon flip book, which if flipped rapidly, gives the impression of fluid movement. mayagodsoftime.com

Reconstruction of the Procession of the Gods of Time from Britannica.com Click image to magnify.

The temple, which consists of three rooms, each showing a different phase of a great celebration and the presentation of a royal dynasty, was re-discovered by archeologist Giles Healey in 1946. I say re-discovered because the local Lacondon tribes people used the buildings in the vacinity of the temple as a special place of worship. They showed him the temple, which was shrouded in lots of vegetal overgrowth. Healey had that vegetation removed, which allowed the variations in climate to enter the temple which had been protected from such for centuries. Fortunately, he also hired local artists to paint copies of the scenes on the walls, and it is from those copies that there is a record of how vibrant the original colors were. What we have now are the faded versions that have reacted to the elements of the rotating rainy and dry seasons that make up the climate of the region.

Of the three great Mexican muralists, both Diego Rivera (seen here) and José Clemente Orozco claimed that mural painting was a key part of the ancient Mexican past. However, it was Rivera who insisted that his rather heavy-set figures were actually a truly authentic Mexican style of painting.

In the 1920s and 30s when the muralist movement was most active, there was nothing to prove that his assertion was true. However, once the news came of Bonampak’s Temple of the Murals, with its heavy-set figures, Rivera’s claims were vindicated. It is said that he was flown to the site by the Mexican government, and upon seeing the murals, he wept.

SO WHAT DO THE MURALS SHOW, AND WHAT DID WE LEARN FROM THEM?

From what archeologists know of the local history, Bonampak, the original name of which, Usiij Witz means Vulture Hill, was a fourth-level power under the sway of Yaxchilan and allied to it by marriage. This temple celebrates that alliance by presenting in Room 1, the royal succession, with three of King Chan Muan’s sons dancing. There is a baby girl being presented as well, perhaps a princess whose later function would be to secure other alliances through marriage. Healey noticed that the Mayan Blue used as the background in the procession had a sparkle to it. It came to light that the paint was made of azurite, a stone that contains crystalline forms, hence the sparkle. Azurite comes from Arizona, so its use in these murals indicated not only that the Maya trade routes stretched far north, but also that this temple was very special as it used this expensive material from so far away.

Room 2 in the Temple of the Murals, Bonampak, Mexico.

One of the long-held myths about the Maya was that they were a peaceful people who spent their time studying the stars and creating extremely accurate calendars. The scenes in Room 2 certainly help disprove that theory, as they show both bloody battles and what happened to prisoners. The man with the long spear is Chan Muan, and he is deciding the fate of an already tortured captive. It has been noted that he holds the spear in his right hand, and that many of the captives are shown with two left hands. The left hand was considered a sign of weakness by the Maya, so obviously anyone captured in battle would be depicted as weak.

Room 3 upper panel of royal family members performing acts of auto-sacrifice. Click image to magnify.

Room 3 shows scenes of celebration after the victory over a rival group. Since Bonampak was a vassel state of Yaxchilan, and the ruler of Yaxchilan sent artists to Bonampak to paint this mural, Bonampak’s Chan Muan obviously had a victory over some group that was important to the king of Yaxchilan. The scenes in this room show ritual auto-sacrifice, as well as lots of dancing. The whole set of murals seems to have been designed to show the success of Chan Muan, the solidity of his line of succession (three sons and maybe a daughter who could later be married for diplomatic purposes), and that this was all an extension of Yaxchilan’s power in the region. It was a fine November day in 790 when this great celebratory temple was opened for viewing, its walls filled with what was intended to last for centuries.

Well, the building did last for centuries; however, Bonampak and the mightier Yaxchilan both disappeared within 30 years or so in what is known as The Great Maya Collapse. There are hints of later conflict on the walls of Bonampak in areas where eyes have been gouged out or the images of the three dancing sons of Chan Muan have been effaced. Was the collapse the result of constant warring? Was it an overuse of resources, like deforestation that brough less rain to the area affecting crop growth? To this day, there is speculation but no firmly proven theory about exactly what happened. What we are left with, though, are these wonderful murals that show us an insider’s view of the Maya and the great artistry with which they shared this great event in the local history of that time and that culture.

Recommendations: In terms of websites mayagodsoftime.com gives detailed information not only on Bonampak, but on other archeological sites in Mexico. Paul Cooper’s Fall of Civilizations: The Maya Collapse, Ruins Among the Trees is a more detailed view done in filmed documentary format. youtube.com

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

What no wine! What ever did they drink?

Of course, it is the premise of Of Art and Wine that all human cultures produce two things: art and alcoholic drinks. Generally we look at two distinct manifestations of that theory, painting and wine. However, there was no wine in ancient Mexico, though when the Spaniards came the very first vineyards planted in North America were in fact in Mexico (more on that later). At this point, we might shake our heads and utter remarks of pity for this deprivation. Oh, ney ney! The Maya loved nothing more than having wonderful things to drink with their foods, and their foods were plentiful and varied.

Corn was the main source of plant starch and a fundamental element in the local diet. It would only be natural to use corn to make something to drink. Here we have saka, which is made from the fluid of corn boiled in lime water mixed with honey. rivieramayablog.com

Then there was balche, which was made from the bark and roots of the Balché tree. Once fermented it supposedly gave one magical powers. The large prickly extensions of the agave plant produce juices that have given us Tequila. Though named for a town in northern Mexico, the Maya knew of its powers. Of course, should one really want to feel “the magic,” it would be necessary to step up to Mezcal. Mezcal foregoes the gentleness of the blue agave and works with the maguey agave. Its authenticity marked by the presence of the maguey worm in the bottom of the bottle.

Fresh roselle with juice from the hibiscus flower mixed with honey. Photo credit historyplex.com

The Maya were a sophisticated people and thus appreciated subtlety. What could be a more delicate and refreshing way to keep the summer’s heat from overwhelming one than to sip a cool juice mixed with honey and perfumed by hibiscus flowers? It’s current name is Jamaica, but it was a drink of Mayan origins. Coconut milk was also readily available and used as a digestive aid. Another native drink, this from the Yucatan, home of the Post-Classical period in Mayan history, is horchata. It became known as the drink of kings when after the conquest, it was used by King Carlos IV to help his digestion.

Last but not least is that wonder for the taste buds, Xocolatl, Subject of book and film (Like Water for Chocolate and Chocolat) we know it as chocolate! Forget kings, this was known by the Mayans as the “Food of the Gods.” Admittedly don’t we all feel divine when we have a hot chocolate? Chocolate was so venerated that its beans were used as money and is often depicted in Mayan glyphs. Its worth was such that one chocolate bean could buy you a tamale. That’s real value. For more on this, go to Xocolotl on historydaily.org.

However, when the Spaniards arrived, they brought with them that product of the ancient Greeks and Romans, wine. Certainly the dense forests of the Maya lands did not lend themselves well to cultivation of vineyards. However, Mexico has a varied topography, and as it turns out Baja California is just right for the cultivation of grapes. That region has become Mexico’s Napa Valley and produces 90% of the wines made in Mexico. Bearing the iconic name Valle de Guadalupe, it’s proximity to the U.S. makes it an reasonably easy destination. One of the wineries, El Cielo Winery and Resort, even offers shuttle pick-up from San Diego International Airport for the drive some 75 miles into Baja along the Pacific Coast.

“Skip Napa and Visit Mexico’s Wine Country Instead” an article from vogue.com Click to magnify.

The wine producing area in the Baja region benefits from the dry climate and from the altitude of its mountains to provide cooler days and cold nights. A wide variety of grapes are grown there, making what Madeline Puckett of Wine Folly refers to as blends that do not always follow European traditions winefolly.com. While the wine industry in Mexico is in the fledgling stage, I have no doubt that it will progress nicely, giving Mexico yet another taste treat to accompany those drinks that have come from its ancient past.

Wine is a wonderful way to travel the world and its cultures, and since we are all staying more at home for the next little while because of COVID 19, a wine club can come in handy as a way to travel with our tastebuds. Cellars Wine Club offers a variety of wine clubs that work with every level of enthusiasm and budget. There is a “no bad bottle” return policy, free shipping, and the possibility of donating part of the purchase to one of a number of vetted charities, a good thing to do in the spirit of the season. Look at the Cellars Wine Club page for all the clubs or click here,  CellarsWineClub.com

Give Back is a way to make your wine purchase count for even more than just great wine.

OfArtandWine.com is an affiliate of Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com  and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: Medici Politics, Botticelli’s Adoration of the Magi, and Christmas Wines.

The Adoration of the Magi by Sandro Botticelli, 1475. Free media repository, Wikimedia Commons

The Medici family ruled Florence for a lot of the 15th and 16th centuries. It was very important during those times to remain in their good graces, which is what the man who commissioned this painting wished to do. Of course, to really please the Medici, one hired their favorite artist, Sandro Botticelli. Ah, politics. Come see how to “work” things in the times of the Medici.

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Beyond Black, the Paintings of Norman Lewis, and the Wines of New York State.

Untitled (March on Washington), Norman Lewis, 1977. Click on image to magnify.

I am sure we have all gone on to an Internet news site only to have our attention stray away from the headlines to something interesting in a sidebar. So it was with me one day, when my attention was captured by an interesting figure in a photo. A man, African-American, sat on what looked like a small sofa made of reddish-brown lacquered wood. One of his long-fingered hands dropped casually from an arm positioned on the sofa’s curved wood armrest, while the other hand propped itself up on the red sofa cushion. He wore what our mothers always told us never to wear together, plaids and stripes. Somehow, the plaid pants in navy blue with subtle red-violet touches and the striped shirt in horizontal bars of navy and white struck me as being oddly elegant. His eyes looked directly at the camera; the deep brown of his eyes held a warm glow. Behind him on the wall was a joyful abstract painting in pinks and blues. The caption gave this information: Normal Lewis, painter and abstract expressionist, subject of a retrospective at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts – Procession, the Art of Norman Lewis.

Photos of Norman Lewis from Huffington Post announcement of Procession, the Art of Norman Lewis.

Procession, hmmm…I immediately thought of Jacob Lawrence and his famous Migration Series, a visual recitation of the movement of African-Americans from the rural South to the industrialized North, done in modernist style with angular figures and primary colors. I had met Mr. Lawrence and his wife, Gwendolyn Knight, many years before at the Bellevue Art Museum, in Bellevue, Washington, just outside Seattle. I was honored to have had those precious moments with one of the greats of American art and one of the few well-known African-American painters. However, Norman Lewis, I knew nothing of. Looking at this man of unusual elegance sitting on the lacquered wood sofa in front of a painting of dancing pinks, I felt ashamed of my ignorance.

In fact my ignorance of him was not completely my fault, as I found out when I read a comment by Lowery Stokes Sims, the first African-American curator at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, “There was a joke for a long time that if you went to a museum, you’d think there were only two black artists, Jacob Lawrence and Romare Bearden, and even then, you wouldn’t see very much.” (See link to NY Times article below). Well, I was not going to be anywhere near Pennsylvania for that retrospective, so I ordered the catalog, which opened up a world for me both historically and artistically. Lewis’ life in art truly was a procession from figurative works and works of social commentary, to finally his great leap into abstract expressionism.

The Yellow Hat (sometimes The Girl in the Yellow Hat) by Norman Lewis, 1936

The Yellow Hat (1936) is a fine representation of Lewis’ figurative work, especially in contrast to Lawrence. Here we see a nod to Cubism in the blocks in the background and a certain angularity in the pose, one leg crossing at a diagonal, with the yellow hat tilted in the opposite diagonal. The colors are not just primaries, but mottled mixtures of red-orange, green, gray, brown and white. And there is the mystery of what the girl is thinking. What problem does she seek to solve? What dream for the future is she constructing? Who else might she be thinking of? Or is she just tired?The pose and the hat covering her face, leave us a lot to guess about. This kind of expression with black characters center stage was almost a type of genre. They had a certain look, a certain subject matter, almost a codified style influenced greatly by Jacob Lawrence (my opinion, of course). Obviously Lewis could express himself well within those restrictions and make subtle differences as well.

Lewis, however, broke free of those confines and headed like a heat-seeking missile for freedom – abstract expressionism – where he was largely a black man alone. Though in his career he was in 150 group exhibitions, many with the likes of Jackson Pollack and Wilhem de Kooning, it was too much for the mindset of the times to accept him as an accomplished abstract expressionist. Sadly, his own prophetic statements seem to have come true. Speaking shortly before his death in 1979, he predicted that in 30 to 40 years his work would be seen for itself. He said at one point,”I wanted to be above criticism, so that my work didn’t have to be discussed in terms of my being black” (Artnet Artists). Now his work is being re-positioned in the history of modern American art, and yes, it is 40 years later.

On a personal level, I focused on some of his pieces that are more enigmatic and done in the last years of his life. Perhaps it is because of his love of the sea and nature, which I share, my favorites of his work are mysterious, fluid, and indecipherable like the two just below. My mind creates all kinds of stories in an attempt to figure out what they really are, but in the end I am just navigating the ethers, floating about marveling at the wonders.

Untitled painting by Norman Lewis, 1977.

Part Vision by Norman Lewis, 1971.

In my own painted world, based on a Chinese concept of laying in colors and “finding” the painting, I see maybe a trace of Lewis.

Enigma # 1 and Enigma #2 by Marjorie Vernelle

My meanderings are hardly brave, but when I see how Lewis forged ahead despite conditions so different from my own, I am heartened and enlightened by now knowing who he was. I only wish I could talk to him.

Note: The Norman Lewis paintings are used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for the purposes of critique and review.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

What? Vineyards in New York?

Vineyards in New York State Photo credit newyorkwineevents.com

Looks familiar, doesn’t it? The same long rows of neatly tethered vines run in military parade formation down a hill leading to distant vistas, which look like they might be in the Napa or Sonoma Valleys. But no. These vines are in New York. Yes, read it and weep California, Oregon and Washington, New York State is the third largest wine producing area in the United States, and it is growing.

Wine production began in New York in the 17th century when the Hudson River Valley was settled by Dutch and Huguenot immigrants. Admittedly they grew the local variety of grape, the Concord grape, and even today 70% of the grapes produced in New York go into the production of fruit juices not wine. That being said, the state boasts 240 wineries and cultivates a variety of different grapes.

This is an aerial view of New York’s Finger Lakes. It’s cool micro-climate great for Riesling and Gerwurstraminer grapes.

The secret to New York’s being able to grow so many varieties from Riesling to Bordeaux varietals has to do with its micro-climates. Laura Burgess’ article, “What the Heck is a Micro-Climate?” vinepair.com goes into detail. However, simply put it is the smallest element in the world of climate descriptions, covering the rainfall, temperatures, altitude, and soil variations, sometimes over something as small as one field or even part of a field. New York seems to be blessed with enough of these climate variations to be able to grow grapes from the more northern Finger Lakes Region right on down to Long Island, a borough of New York City. Yes, Long Island, the eastern end of which is good for growing Merlot and Cabernet Franc grapes because of its warmer climate. An abundance of lakes keeps its climate balanced making it warmer in winter and cooler in summer.

The Brotherhood Winery in New Photo Credit to hvwinemag.com

The oldest winery in America happens to be in New York State. It is the Brotherhood Winery, founded in 1839. Started as a small, family-run operation producing sacramental and “medicinal” wines, it has proudly survived three wars and Prohibition. The winery itself has expanded its operations over the years to include fine dining facilities in the wonderful stone structure of the winery, a boutique, a wine museum, and of course, a tasting hall.

New York is also the home of America’s biggest company specializing in the production and sale of wine, beer and spirits, Constellation Brands (crbrands.com). Constellation owns a number of famous California wineries like Robert Mondavi and Franciscan Winery.

So from small things, like Dutch and Huguenot growers of Concord grapes, many great things have come. For more on the history of New York Wines see this article, “A Brief History of New York Wines” by Benjamin Mitrofan-Norris at learn.winecoolerdirect.com. And for a cool look at the wine producing region of New York’s Finger Lakes area, see this video youtube.com. Should you want to make a quick visit to a winery in New York, try the North Fork area of Long Island. Known for its red wines, this area is just two hours from New York City, youtube.com.

Now, a great way to get a well-rounded tasting experience is to join a wine club. Cellars Wine Club has clubs that fit every level of wine enthusiasm and budget. One exceptional value is the Premium Wines Club, which offers 12 bottles of wine, all reds, all whites, or a mix of the two for $99.00. Click on the Cellars Wine Club page in the right hand column or go to CellarsWineClub.com

OfArtandWine.com is an affiliate of Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: The Painted Walls of Bonampak and Mayan Drinks.

A procession of musicians on the walls of the Temple of the Murals, Bonampak, Mexico.

When we think of paintings on walls, we most frequently go to the murals of the Italian Renaissance, but mural painting appears in a variety of different cultures. Modern Mexico has a penchant for the mural. One thinks immediately of Diego Rivera, who always claimed his painting was truly ethnically Mexican, even when there was no proof. Then came the discovery of Bonampak, which proved Rivera’s artist’s instinct to have been correct. While the ancient Mayans did not drink wine, they did have a fascinating variety of drinks. Come along on this adventure and maybe enjoy a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon while reading about these murals.

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The Lost Blue of the Ancient Egyptians and the Wines of the Pharaohs.

The famous Ancient Egyptian blue in powdered form and on the pharaoh’s blue war helmet and his necklace and upper arm bands. ancient-origins.net

Not unlike the “discovery” of America (I say it was by those prehistoric folk who crossed the landbridge from Asia to become known as Native Americans – but I digress), the brilliant blue of the Ancient Egyptians has been discovered (rediscovered?) many times. Vitruvius takes credit for writing down the recipe for this wonderous blue, though I imagine that somewhere among the millions of hieroglyphs in Egypt, the formula was well recorded. The Romans hated it, so the color fell out of favor (except it seems in Pompeii), and the recipe lost. Of course, after the fall of the Roman Empire, the recipe for concrete was lost, too.

This left the medieval Europeans without both concrete and a brilliant blue. They had to grind expensive lapis lazuli to create the robes on those paintings of the Virgin Mary. In about 1844, that blue was “discovered” in paintings in the ruins of Pompeii. In the U.S. around 1930, scientist, George Washington Carver, he of the peanut and crop rotation techniques, “discovered” Egyptian blue and set about trying to find an Egyptian purple. Recently, it has been “discovered” that Raphael, the great painter of the Renaissance, “discovered” Egyptian Blue, and scientists have “discovered” that it can be used for forensic dusting powder and security strips used in printed money. Let’s get all this discovery sorted out.

Detail of the throne of Tutankhamen showing the pharaoh and his wife, Ankhesanamen

Here is what we know for sure. Egyptian blue comes from Ancient Egypt. To the Ancient Egyptians, blue, as the color of the sky, meant it was heavenly, associated with the gods and the universe. It was also the color of the Nile, which was their source of life. Blue was precious. Around 2600 B.C. the ancients found that a combination of sand (which contains calcium silicate), copper, and natron if heated properly would produce this startling blue. It was then ground into little bits to be mixed with binders of various types to produce the blue used to color many objects and to paint the walls of their temples and tombs (see the Tomb of Horemheb below).

KV57 Tomb of Horemheb, last pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty. Photo credit: Wikipedia.org “Horemheb.”

Blue is the rarest occuring color in nature, but it was one that meant a lot to the Ancient Egyptians as they associated it with Amun-Ra, a principle god. The affection that the Egyptians had for blue meant that they had to find a economical way to produce the color. Grinding up lapis lazuli, turquoise and azurite was expensive. Hence some experimentation that created a way to make the color artificially. It is claimed to be the oldest known artificial color.

Vitruvius, the 1st century B.C. Roman writer, famous for his work De architectura, was fascinated by how the color was made and wrote down the recipe for it. His works were lost in the chaos of the fall of Rome and only found again at the beginning of the Renaissance, but no one seems to have paid attention to the recipe for blue. In case you want to know what the process is, here is a video from the SciShow on youtube.com. I’d say, don’t try this at home.

However, despite the interest of Vitruvius, the Romans overall seemed to have had a different attitude about blue. It was seen as a color of dishonor, sometimes even associated with death. The Romans favored reds, yellows, oranges, and so on, though with the discovery of the ruins of Pompeii, blue was found to have been still used. However, during the Roman era the demand for this blue color dropped significantly, leading to the functional loss of how to make it.

Vyrsehrad Madonna and Child from the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Prague. theguardian.com Click to magnify.

Come the Middle Ages and what were people to do when it seemed that the most fitting color for the Virgin Mary’s robes was brilliant blue? They were left often to grind up that expensive lapis lazuli, something that has had a detrimental effect on a number of paintings from those times. It seems that when times were financially tough, many of these paintings were striped of this valuable blue, leaving posterity with blank spaces where the Virgin’s robes had been.

Recently it came to light that in the Renaissance, the great painter Raphael (seen here his self-portrait, 1506) used Egyptian blue in his painting, The Triump of Galatea, 1514. It is used in the sky and the sea and even in the whites of the eyes of some of the figures in the painting. Raphael created the painting for a loggia in the Villa Farnesina, which was owned by Pope Julius’ treasurer. It seems that none of the other paintings Raphael did used this Egyptian Blue. (See thehistoryblog.com.)

The Triumph of Galatea by Raphael, 1514. Click on photo to magnify.

In the 19th century, a chemist named Humphrey Davy found pieces of it in the Baths of Titus in Rome, and later when the ruins of Pompeii were found, it was seen that this blue had been used there as well.

Here the story shifts to America, where another scientist, this one involved with agriculture and the properties of plants, recreated Egyptian blue. Dr George Washington Carver was famous for experimenting in biology and chemistry. In 1930, he found a formula for recreating the blue seen in the artifacts from King Tutankhamen’s tomb. That tomb had just been found (1922) by archeologist, Howard Carter and Tut-mania had taken hold of the world.

See Elements for Nature Blog 4elements-ewaf.com

From there we come to our current interest in this particular blue, which has certain properties of fluorescence that make it work nicely for forensic dusting powders, security strips in paper money, biomedical analysis, telecomunications, and lasers. Philip McCouat has an article on the modern usages for this color, “Egyptian Blue: The Colour of Technology,” artinsociety.com, which shows how this ancient creation fits into our modern world. So when we look at our money, or see an old episode of C.S.I., we can remember those ancient people who dwelled on the Nile and thank them for their expertise.

Sources used for this essay are linked above. One special source used is the book, Blue, History of a Color by Michel Pastoureau, the French historian who is a foremost scholar in the history of color. The works of art are all in public domain.

The Wines of the Pharaohs.

Well, it is certain that this fellow had all the wine he wanted. This is one of the many statues of Amenhotep III who reigned in Ancient Egypt’s golden age during the 18th Dynasty/New Kingdom. (Cute, isn’t he?) But he is not the first of the Pharaohs to have wine. Oh no, that started almost 2000 years before Amenhotep III with a man who really was known as King Scorpion. He reigned around 3320 B.C. His burial at Abydos has 700 wine vessels, all labeled with the types of wine they once held.

It is said that he got his wine from the Levant (modern Jordan, Israel, Lebanon). It wasn’t until around 2600 B.C. that the Ancient Egyptians began to grow their own grapes and make wine.

They cultivated grapes in the Nile Delta near Medjen, where the first mention of wine making in Egypt is found. The word for wine, symbolized by this hieroglyph, is irep, which sounds a bit like what happens when you drink too much.

It is known that the wines were mixed with spices, like mint and coriander, with sometimes a fig added for flavor. Wine jars have been found with labels that were made by pressing images into wet clay. These labels sometimes indicated the purposes for the wine, such as wine for taxes (interesting way to pay your bill), for merrymaking, and for offerings. This video shows a collection of statues from across the ages in Ancient Egypt in which figures hold offerings of wine in small jugs or jars youtube.com

One of the types of offerings was for the beginning of a pharaoh’s reign when a wine would be made to celebrate the new pharaoh. Similarly a wine would be made at the end of the pharaoh’s reign and called the funerary wine of that pharaoh. One of the Amarna period’s most enigmatic figures is a pharaoh named Smenkhkare, who may have been a brother to King Tut. One thing that marked his actual existence was the discovery of wine jars labeled “The Wine of the House of Smenkhkare” done in the first year of his reign and later that same year, “The Funerary Wine of Smenkhkare,” meaning that such a king did reign though only for a short time. Then, of course, came Tutankhamen.

Speaking of King Tutankhamen, one of the reasons Howard Carter stayed for years in the vacinity where he ultimately found the tomb of the boy king was that Carter had found remains of the funerary feast 0f Tutankhamen in that area in 1908. Carter did not find the actual tomb until 1922.

The funerary rites in Ancient Egypt involved final ceremonies of purification and offerings of food and wines to the departed pharaoh, after which the participants had a feast before sealing the pharaoh into his tomb for his eternal rest. It was the remains of items bearing the king’s name that were left behind in the sands after that feast, which Carter found 3300 years later. For more on funerals in Ancient Egypt, see this article from the Australian Museum australian.museum.

Painting of a feast from the Tomb of Nebamun The British Museum britishmuseum.org click to magnify.

All this talk of pharaohs might lead you to think they were the only ones drinking wine. Well, rather like today other people drank wine, too, but generally they were rather well off like Nebamun. He was a wealthy official who also wanted his grand life to be remembered, hence some of the most elaborate paintings of Ancient Egyptian life left to us today. In the banquet scene above, we see guests being served drink while many of the beautiful ladies sniff the blue lotus, which supposedly enhanced feelings of well being and sensuality. Probably was a good party.

The common people, though their normal drink was beer, got to have some wine on the occasion of certain festivals, like that of Hathor, the goddess of beauty, love, and fertility, who was often represented in her daytime form as a cow. However, she had another side, represented by the lioness. It was that form that once went on a rampage of killing, which only stopped when the god Ra tricked her into drinking a large quantity of wine, the red color of which she mistook for blood. So to commemorate Ra’s saving humanity, on the Ancient Egyptian New Year (the 20th day of Thoth, the first month of the year), there was the Festival of Hathor, also known as the Festival of Drunkeness, which was all out party-hardy. Interesting how these ancient people seem so similar to us.

Well, wine is still with us and fortunately humankind has expanded its types and varieties a great deal. To get to know more about wine, it is necessary to experience the taste of it. One great way to do that is to join a wine club. Cellars Wine Club offers a variety of clubs that work with every level of taste and budget. There is a “no bad bottle” return policy, and free shipping. The Premium Case Club is a particularly attractive club as it contains 12 bottles, tasting notes on each wine, and your preference (all reds, all whites, or a mix of both) for $99.00. You can go to the Cellars page here under Of Art and Wine Pages or click here cellarswineclub.com.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

OfArtandWine.com is an affiliate of Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

Coming Soon: Beyond Black, the Paintings of Norman Lewis, plus Wines of New York State.

Part Vision by Norman Lewis, 1971. (Lewis seems to have liked the same blue as the Pharaohs.)

Norman Lewis was a rarity, an African American abstract expressionist painter. Though he exhibited his paintings with the best of his white colleagues, during his lifetime his work was not fully appreciated. That was remedied in 2015 by a comprehensive retrospective held at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Come take a look at his paintings and find out about America’s third largest wine producing area, New York State.

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The Fine Art of Drawing, and Wine for After Dinner, Marsala.

The Grand Staircase at the Seattle Art Museum designed by Robert Venturi and one of his napkin sketches, though not of the ones seen at SAM, as mentioned below. archiscapes.wordpress.com

Britist art historian, Andrew Graham Dixon, in his BBC documentary series, The Secret of Drawing (youtube.com), points out that almost everything begins with a sketch, the most rudimentary form of drawing. Whether a building, the layout of our city streets, the cars we drive, the design of our cell phones, or the design of our clothes, they all come to life with a few expressive lines. Architect Robert Venturi first jotted down his ideas for Seattle’s downtown museum in black pen on a napkin as he talked about the project. Those “sketches” are proudly displayed on a freize around the upper walls in the First Street entrance to SAM, as the museum is known, with the building as the living testament to what those spots, dots, and lines would become.

Graham Dixon in his first episode of The Secret of Drawing, shows the sketches of a heart surgeon who studied the anatomical drawings of Leonardo Da Vinci. Dr. Francis Wells makes drawings of what he will do in upcoming surgeries. Dr. Wells is known to have developed from those drawings a life-saving surgical procedure known as “The Leonardo Cut.” Another example of an unusual use of the drawing is that of Fineman Diagrams, devised by the late physicist, Dr. Richard Fineman, who led the team that hand calculated the math that created the atomic bomb. He studied art with an artist neighbor, teaching the artist physics while the artist taught him how to draw. He scientifically drew diagrams to visually show the interaction of particles. They are supposedly also “easy and fun” to use. The Fineman Diagrams helped him win the Nobel Prize in Science, 1965.

Prehistoric paintings from Lascaux, France. en.wikipedia.org Click on picture to magnify.

Humans have always liked images. We have only to look about us to see them everywhere or think back to prehistoric cave drawings and paintings. Our ancient ancestors sketched out their thoughts and experiences in the caves of Lascaux and Alta Mira in what some social scientists feel was a precursor to the development of human language. However, normally when we think of drawing, we automatically skip right to the Renaissance of Leonardo and Botticelli.

From the notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci Click to magnify.

It does not take a long look to recognize the figures and the layout of the above drawing to be one of the ones done by Da Vinci for The Last Supper (1498). The final painting is well known for the way the artist grouped the Disciples into small clusters of three as they reacted to Jesus’ startling statement that one among them would betray him. In this sketch, one sees the different characters interacting with one another. The details of some of the features and the way their clothing drapes appear in this sketch as Da Vinci drew in some of the more important items that concerned him. It is far from a finished piece, but one can see a sketch moving toward being a drawing that ultimately became a painting.

Here we have one of Sandro Botticelli’s lovely ladies from one of his sketch notebooks. We can see by the marks on the paper that other items shared the space with this figure which emerges out of the subtle beige of the paper. Finely drawn lines indicate the folds of the clothing, a bit of her hair, and the features of her “Botticelli-style” face, one that appears in various versions in his paintings. Always lovely and beautifully drawn, they haunt us even today.

From those days in Renaissance Florence, we have learned to revere what those artists worked on in terms of capturing a visual reality. In fact, one of the things that upset the Florentines, with their strict adherence to drawing, was how the Venetians threw around the use of beautiful color. Titian in particular horrified them because he drew very little, and when he did, the final product seemed to have nothing to do with any of his meager preliminary sketches. Titian worked directly in paint and to wonderous effect. Tintoretto on the other hand held an idea that was more inclusive. A sign in his studio presented this saying as a constant reminder, “The drawing of Michelangelo and the color of Venice.” It seems that drawing had at least some impact even in that most fluid of places, Venice.

However, the move away from classical drawing continued. Before the arrival of the camera and photographic images, Turner moved from sketching in pencil to sketching (drawing?) in watercolor. Below, one sees the barest of indications of people and boats. The emphasis is on the subtlety of the color of the sky, and the way the color white indicates distant buildings, clouds, and the action of the waves.

Figures by the Shore of Margate by J.M.W. Turner christies.com

Turner, however, could be ever more brief in his color sketches, all meant to capture just what he saw. Below is A Rainbow Over A Landscape (1824) which gives only the essentials of the scene – truly a sketch in watercolor.

A Rainbow Over A Landscape by J.M.W. Turner Art Gallery of Ontario ago.ca Click to magnify.

One of the most influential proponents of drawing in the 20th century was Pablo Picasso. Picasso who had highly skilled abilities to render what he saw from the young age of nine sought to upend the training of the academicians and learn to draw like a five-year-old child. The drawn line is a key element in his work, including his most famous piece, Guernica (1937), done in protest against war in the aftermath of the bombing of the town during the Spansh Civil War.

Guernica by Pablo Picasso, 1937.

In 1949 Picasso got involved with technology that allowed him to draw with light, in works sometimes called Light Drawings or Light Graffiti. The article from Life Magazine in the link below shows the artist in action in a fascinating series of photos that demonstrate the power of the line drawn with the action of his whole body.

Light Drawing by Pablo Picasso, 1949 “Behind the Picture: Picasso Draws With Light,” life.com. Click to magnify.

These days we have in some ways moved beyond drawing or at least we think we have. Of course our computers and cameras allow us to create all kinds of images that have nothing to do with drawing. Yet, as Andrew Graham Dixon points out in the introduction to his series on drawing, almost every creation starts with the sketching of lines that get further developed into drawn images.

The Fine Art of Drawing Lives On

Pioneer by Mark Dixon. Click to magnify.

Sometimes drawn images come to us in forms that relate to the classical drawing skills, yet carry messages to us that come from times closer to us than the Renaissance. Mark Dixon is an artist who always strives to increase his already considerable skills. When asked what makes something a piece of art, Dixon says, “The art should move the viewer. The subject, if not a completely abstract work, is something that one can relate to on a positive and emotional level.” Dixon cut his teeth in the art world first as a designer/illustrator for Hallmark Cards and later on for Current Inc., another producer of cards. Not unlike Wayne Thiebaud, who praised the commercial artists with whom he first worked, Dixon credits his interaction with other fine artists in those companies for many of the things he has learned about composition, colors, shapes and values.

The drawing above shows Dixon’s well-developed skill in handling the gray-scale values in the drawing, while capturing the essence of this pioneer woman. She looks straight at the viewer with a calm gaze, her head held high, and her strong hands folded neatly before her. Her quiet beauty is as striking as her clothes are plain. The handling of the dark pencil lines simultaneously form a contrasting background, as well as enveloping her as they also across the figure itself. The effect of this is like that of a cloud from which the young woman emerges as though stepping into our time from the past.

Dixon says of working with the human figure, “When you look at a person, something catches your eye…it could be the character or the pose…” Certainly what caught his eye here comes across to us as beauty, strength, and quiet determination. Dixon’s skill at working simply with pencil provides a great example of the fine art of drawing. For more of Dixon’s work see the article, “Mark Dixon: When Design Turns to Art” at vernellestudio.com.

Note: Paintings used for this article are either in public domain, live-linked to specific articles, or used with permission of the artist.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.comor her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

What to drink after dinner while looking at a book of sketches? Marsala, of course.

Drawing of Caravaggio by Ottavio Leoni, 1621

Yes, this engraving is the only portrait of Caravaggio (1571-1610) done by another artist, painter and printmaker, Ottavio Leoni. It is a fine example of the printmaker’s skill in drawing, as it captures the sense of instability and potential violence in the eyes of the artist, who not unlike the 19th century’s Lord Byron, was “mad, bad, and dangerous to know.” One of Caravaggio’s misadventures seems to have been an affair with a married woman, whose husband challenged the artist to a duel. Caravaggio killed the man and had to flee Rome. The man’s wife soon married another man shortly after her husband’s death (see Andrew Graham Dixon’s video “Who Killed Caravaggio?” youtube.com). Caravaggio ran off to Sicily to avoid the death pentaly, leaving his mark there as well and certainly drinking plenty of the region’s wonderful wines, which must have included Marsala.

A glass of Marsala. Photo credit to thebacklabel.com

You will notice the small glass that looks like a wine glass without a stem. The narrow opening at the top lets the aroma gather so that the full power of it will strike the nose. Strike is the correct term, as Marsala is a fortified wine, 20% alcohol as opposed to most wine with just 13%. The most common phrase that comes with Marsala is don’t buy it in the supermarket. That might appear to you as strange at first, but then you must remember one of Sicily’s most famous dishes, Chicken Marsala. Yes, it is a favorite chicken and mushroom dish that requires this local Sicilian specialty touch, and being a necessary ingredient put Marsala among the cooking wines, rather than the drinkable ones. This gave the notion that Marsala was not of good enough quality to be enjoyed except as an enhancement to the making of a main course. This is not true at all.

Creamy Chicken Marsala with an easy recipe delish.com

Marsala is a wine local to the town of Marsala in Sicily and comes in both dry and sweet versions. The wine is fortified by the addition of distilled alcohol similar to what happens in the creation of Port or Sherry, hence making it a perfect drink for after dinner. However, you can use it as part of a cocktail to tune your tastebuds up for the coming treat of that chicken and mushroom dish. One infusion mentioned by Allison Russo in The Back Label article above involves vanilla-infused bourbon and passion fruit, so you can do mixology experiments with Marsala, but be careful with the alcohol content. I’d say to enjoy it after dinner and a bite of tiramiso (Marsala adds a nice touch of toasted hazelnut to that sweet treat). Marsala makes for a nip of warmth for the tummy as you digest and while you look at some of Botticelli’s sketches.

Now, if you want to experiment with tasting wines like this, Cellars Wine Club has a club dedicated to sweet wines, just click here cellarswineclub.com Remember that Cellars has free delivery and a “no bad bottle” return policy.

Note: I affiliate with Bluehost.com and cellarswineclub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

Coming Soon: The Lost Blue of the Ancient Egyptians and the Wines of the Pharaohs.

Egyptian Blue, the Oldest Known Artificial Pigment. ancient-origins.net

This blue has a history of being lost and found. Like the secret of how the pyramids were build, there are multiple theories of how it was made. As well, its rediscovery has been credited to both scientists like George Washington Carver and artists like Raphael. Come along for this adventure and also get a look at the role of wine in those ancient times. Pharaoh will be delighted.

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Degas Makes Pastel Landscapes Dance, plus Pouilly Fuissé Wine.

Houses by the Sea by Edgar Degas, 1869 normandythenandnow.com Click on picture to magnify.

Edgar Degas (1833-1917), according to many of his own words, was decidedly not one of those “plein air landscape painters.” You know the ones, Monet, Pissarro, Sisley, who ran about outside to capture the changing moods of the light on the river or the ocean (possibly being nearly swept away as Monet once was) or standing about in the snow to look at the colored reflections on the ice. Well, they were just not in Degas’ mode of thinking. As he once firmly put it, “Painting is not a sport!” Degas and his close colleague, Edouard Manet, were studio painters. Staying inside where they could adjust the light, have all their equipment about them and be undisturbed by blowing winds, crashing waves, and the occasional insect, was just more civilized. Of course, this does not mention the fact that it was so much easier to go off to that favorite haunt of Manet’s crowd, the Café Guerbois, have a smoke, some wine, and talk about what they were creating. And yet, Degas created some of the most beautiful landscapes of the Impressionist period. So what happened and how?

Probably the best place to start is with a comment made about the artist by one of his longest lasting friends (and he did not have too many), Camille Pissarro, who said of Degas, “He is an anarchist, but in art.” Impressionism was all about a certain type of art anarchy. It was a break with the old school’s classically formatted, huge paintings of notable figures and stories from history, ancient mythology, and the Bible. Degas strove to take it a step further. He refused to let nature dictate what was represented in his paintings, saying, “A painting is first of all the product of the imagination of the artist.” That statement allows the viewer to understand the difference in the conception of color and the artificial quality seen in Degas’ landscapes when compared to those of his Impressionist contemporaries.

For instance, in the painting below, Field of Flax (1891-1892), it is rather unlikely that such a neat, lovely, violet and pink square of flax, would appear laid out like a carpet amid the other dull patches of perhaps cultivated fields in this hilly forest-like landscape. Except for the bright spots of yellow in the foreground, the field of flax is the superstar in this painting, almost inviting the viewer to go lie down on this colorful natural blanket.

Field of Flax by Edgar Degas, 1891-92 Private Collection. Photo from wikiart.org

While Field of Flax seems to be just one of Degas imagined scenes of nature, perhaps based on a memory or a dream(?), he was also able to capture in his painting one of the concerns of the day, the rapid encrouchment of industrialization.

Landscape with Smokestacks by Edgar Degas, 1890. Art Institute of Chicaco artic.edu Click on picture to magnify.

The smokestacks in the distance of Landscape with Smokestacks, where the black smoke is a counterpoint to the natural loveliness of the scene, the nature itself is a bit fantasized, with even some of the trees in the field being represented with the fuzzy, smoke-like quality of smokestacks. The landscape seems to be a comment on nature versus industry, with those smoky trees indicating the invasion of industrialization into what had been pristine loveliness. The cluster of flowers in the foreground add wonderful color that fades into distinct violets and greens as the land stretches out before us. However, there are large barren areas in that land, begging the visual question of what has blighted the area.

It has been said that Degas’ landscapes are made from imagination and memory. Memories, as we all know, are rather fuzzy, partially faded, not exact, and prone to imaginative flourishes. Degas was able to add to this quality of the not-quite-real by using rather unusual methods to create his landscapes. Degas was a master of painting with pastels, as can be seen in his early landscapes of the Normandy coast done around 1869, as well as his famous ballerinas, bathers, and horses. However, in the mid-1870s, he was introduced to monotype printing, a format that allows the artist to draw with inks on a metal plate, then press one print to create a completely unique work of art. Degas took the process a step further by pressing yet another print from the ink left over. This degraded version of the print was then worked again with pastels to create another distinct piece of art. It is that process that one sees in his landscapes from the 1880s forward. The process is described and visually shown in this short video, Edgar Degas: A Strange New Beauty youtube.com

As a young man, Degas was very much influenced by the art of Jean-Auguste Dominique Ingres, a Neoclassical painter. Ingres told the young Degas to “focus on the line.” Degas took this tip to heart, as line was the key to one of the things that attracted him the most: movement. His famous work of the dancers, horses, etc. were all about the study of movement. However, his landscapes are also influenced by this attention to line, and sometimes the lines found in the human body. In the painting below one can make out the representation of a shoulder. Degas said when viewing a block of granite, “What a beautiful line, beautiful like a shoulder. I will make a steep embankment, with a view of the sea.”

Coastal Landscape by Edgar Degas, c. 1890 Pastel over monotype print. Click on picture to magnify.

Et voilà! There it is. It is rugged and rough, but one can make out the general shape of a well-muscled shoulder with an arm descending at its side. Degas makes this outcrop overlooking the sea into a hillside of rock and flowering plants, using tonal harmonies in yellows and oranges with a counterpoint of green, though the inspiration was from his figure drawing.

Degas pushed the envelop as only he could, preferring to experiment in his studio with line, movement, and the effects of imagination and memory to move the landscape into new territory. We plein air painters can forgive him for being as unique as his pastel-treated monotypes.

For a slide show of Degas’ wonderful landscapes in pastels and pastel over monotype, see this Edgar Degas video (in three languages) youtube.com .

Degas’ Influence on a Painter of the Southwest.

Warm Sunset by Sandra Pérez. Click on picture to magnify.

Sandra Pérez is a native of California, who spent long years in the northwestern city of Seattle before being completely captivated by the wonders of the southwestern landscape in and around Santa Fe, New Mexico, where she now lives. She works in pastels, and Edgar Degas’ pastel landscapes are among her favored inspirations. Unlike Degas, she is a plein air painter, even always carrying a small assortment of soft pastels and a little notebook with her in order to capture quick sketches of views that inspire her as she moves about her daily activities. The places sketched are often returned to for further plein air work.

Her handling of the different shades of yellows and oranges is reminiscent of Degas’ color combinations for his Coastal Landscape. Little bits of distinction can be noted in the field of yellowed grasses, just as we see similar variation among the plants on Degas’ seacliff. Likewise the color that is the counterbalance to the yellow and orange is green. In various shades from light spring green highlighted by sunlight to the deep brownish greens with purple shadows, it makes for a cool contrast to those sunny colors, as strongly massed together as is Degas’ “shoulder-like” cliff overlooking the sea.

Pérez does do finishing touches on her work in her studio. (Ah ha! says Degas.) However, whether in the studio or out in the field, the role that Degas established for creating a certain feeling in the use of pastels is honored, amplified, and continued here far from France in the wilds of the southwestern U.S.A.

For more on the work of Sandra Pérez, go to “Sandra Pérez: Poetry in Pastel” vernellestudio.com/blog

The paintings used in this article are in public domain or used with the permission of the artist. Reference source on Degas is Degas by Bernd Crowe, Taschen Publications (2005).

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Oh, those wines of Burgundy! Pouilly Fuissé

Vineyards of Burgundy. Photo Credit to Liz Palmer liz-palmer.com

Well, there you see it. Burgundy, that fabled area of France that as a duchy once was a real rival for power to the kingdom of France (think Joan of Arc days). While Joan did not fare so well, Burgundy, though finally integrated into France, still remains an area with its own culture and cultural contributions. One of those is a special wine made of Chardonnay grapes that takes the name of a southern Burgundian wine growing region known as Pouilly. From there come white wines like Pouilly Vinzelle and Pouilly Loche, but the most famous is Pouilly Fuissé.

At this point, we must practice our French. The pronunciation is like this: Pooh- yee Fwee-say (I beg the pardon of my linguistics profs for not using proper transcription, but pop culture wins here). Now that we know how to do that, the next thing is not to mix it up with Pouilly Fumé, which is another French wine but from the western side of France in the Loire Valley. It is made of Sauvignon Blanc grapes and is the subject of another Of Art and Wine post “The Hazy Light of Corot and the Light Smoke of Pouilly Fumé” Fumé by the way means smoked, a taste that comes into the wine from the flint in the limestone that underlies the northern Loire Valley.

Glasses of Chardonnay wine Photo credit: townandcountrymagazine.com

Pouilly Fuissé comes by its rich flavor, described as a taste of pears and apples, with a bit of lemon and a buttery finish, by going through a distinct process, called “split oaking.” During fermentation 2/3s of the grapes are fermented in stainless steel containers, while 1/3 is fermented in oak barrels. What this does is tame the sometimes too buttery taste that Chardonnay is sometimes known for, especially when one recalls the Chardonnays of the 1980s when oaking went overboard. In the split-oaking process, the fruity notes are allowed to emerge, accented by that tang of lemon before one’s palate is warmed by a mild taste of butter.

Seafood platter, a perfect pair for Pouilly Fuissé.

Well, I will tell you my hands-down favorite thing to have with this wine. It’s freshed picked crab (king, snow or Dungeness) with fresh lemon and a mild garlic touch in some hot melted butter for dipping. However, if you wish to enjoy this wine with more everyday foods, you can enjoy it with smoked salmon, artichokes with Hollandaise sauce, roast chicken or just a plain old quiche. Serve the wine chilled at about 46 degrees, and you are good to go for some fine dining.

So whatever your choice of meals, if it includes fish, seafood or simple, lightly roasted chicken, Pouilly Fuissé is a wonderful wine to pair with it. Should you decide you want a full bodied red for your winter meat dishes, Burgundy has those, too. You really can’t lose if you go Burgundian.

While we can’t travel much these days, we can still have our fine wine experience by joining a wine club. Cellars Wine Club of International Wines is a excellent way to experience wines from around the world and decide by wine where you will be traveling in future. Cellars has a number of wine clubs, one for every level of taste and budget, a “no bad bottle” return policy, and free shipping. See the page under Of Art and Wine Pages.

Photos used in this section are free stock photos from iStock.com and dreamstime.com.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: The Fine Art of Drawing, and Wine for After Dinner, Marsala.

Drawing of the Portrait of Caravaggio by Ottavio Leoni, National Gallery of London

Drawing is hard, even drawing from a portrait, let alone from real life. However, drawing is one of humankind’s oldest art forms, and well worth a good look. Since Caravaggio here spent time in southern Italy, we will get acquainted with Marsala, a bracing after dinner wine, straight out of Sicily.

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One Model, Two Artists, Great Art, and Wine in Franche-Comte.

Jo, la belle irlandaise, by Gustave Courbet. 1865-1866 National Museum, Stockholm, Sweden. Click picture to magnify.

The woman above, Jo Hifferman, was one of the most famous artist’s models ever. She appears in several celebrated paintings by James McNeill Whistler (obviously, she is not his mother), as well as a series of portraits done by Gustave Courbet, among them the one above and three others of a similar pose. The role of the artist’s model is essential to the art, yet is largely unsung. One of the most harrowing stories is of the model for John Edward Millais’ Ophelia (1851-1852), which shows a young woman floating in a small stream where she has supposedly drowned as that character did in Hamlet. The apocryphal tale is that the model spent hours floating in a tub of cold water to capture the appropriate look of poor, dead, Ophelia. Whether true or not, it captures the way that the models often “suffer for art,” holding interminable poses until the body decides, dead or alive, that rigor mortis must set in.

Then there’s seeing what the artist has created. A friend of mine used to model for her artist husband until, as she says, “I got tired of posing long hours only to see my beautiful body turned into some kind of futuristic chair.” Oops! Let me just say right now, as an artist, that we love all artist’s models, whoever you are and wherever you are. You are truly appreciated. However, only a few artist’s models go down in history by name. Yes, there is Victorine Meurent who posed for Manet’s Olympia, and Andrew Wyeth’s Helga, but basically not many are known by name. Jo Hifferman, however, is known by two names, Joanna Hifferman and Jo, la belle irlandaise (Jo, the beautiful Irish woman).

Symphony in White #1 or The White Girl #1 (1862) and Symphony in White #2 or The White Girl #2 (1864) both by James McNeill Whistler.

Her career started with James McNeill Whistler, an American who was living in London at the time. For Whistler the first painting was an experiment in painting white on white. Whistler, who was a great lover of music, originally titled the paintings Symphony in White 1 and 2, just as his later paintings of evenings on the Thames were called Nocturnes, another musical reference. Whistler had not yet gotten involved with the Pre-Raphaelites, but they later lauded these paintings as precursors to their own movement, which sought to emphasize the purity and simplicity of art as it was before Raphael. Jo Hifferman was all of 20 and 22 when she posed for these charming, rather virginal paintings.

Then they went to France. Whistler took Jo with him as she had become his mistress, despite the warnings of his family that she was “a loose woman.” Obviously from those paintings, he perhaps did not wish to see her that way. Whistler, himself, had a reputation for being rather contrarian and combative. He often signed his paintings with a butterfly that had a stinger in its tail. While these paintings were looked upon as illustrations in England, in France they were seen as poetic, and in what was to become the spirit of contrarianism of that day, they were exhibited in the 1863 Salon des Refusés, an exhibition of works that had been rejected by the formal Salon.

It was around this time that Whistler began his “frienemy” relationship with French artist, Gustave Courbet, known for promoting realism in art. In fact in the late summer/early autumn of 1864, Whistler and Jo met up with Courbet in the resort town of Trouville on the northern coast of Normandy, where the two artists did seascape painting. It was at this time that Courbet took advantage of having such a lovely model present and began painting a series of portraits of Jo, with her red hair loose, staring into a mirror (see image above). There are four in all, three in museums and one in a private collection. Innocent enough. Jo and Whistler returned to England, but memories of France obviously lingered. In 1866 when Whistler went off on a tour of South America, Jo managed to go back to France and modeled for Courbet. One of the results is below.

Woman with a Parrot by Gustave Courbet, 1866. Metropolitain Museum, New York City. Click picture to magnify.

This painting, unlike the lovely image in the white dress, caused quite a sensation for different reasons, though it was also Courbet’s first to be shown at the Salon. It was criticized for being provocative, the pose too suggestive, and the disheveled hair was shocking. Just the thing to capture the attention of the public and of the artists of the time who were looking to break the mold of the past. Courbet went on to paint another couple of sensational paintings of Jo. One is called Sommeil or the Sleepers (1866), which shows two naked women sleeping in a bed. One of the sleepers is clearly Jo.

However, even more sensational is a painting done originally for a private client, Khalil-Bey, an Turkish-Egyptian diplomat, which became “the most famous painting that was rarely ever seen,” until it was acquired by the Musée D’orsay, where it now is on display. I shall leave you the link to the Musée’s English-Language information on that painting, so that you can discover it for yourselves. It is Origin of the World (1866). www.musee-orsay.fr And yes, Jo was the model.

The Happy Lovers by Gustave Courbet, 1844. Click on picture to magnify

The painting above was done long before Courbet’s affair with Jo. However, it conveys the general idea of what happened. Whistler became known in France as the cuckhold lover, and Courbet? Well, he was Courbet, flamboyant, controversial, and just plain French.

Gustave Courbet was as much of a rabble-rouser as Whistler was an art world disrupter. In fact, Courbet’s ultimate downfall was stiring up a crowd of communards during a period called The Commune just after the Franco-Prussian War, 1871. The crowd went to the Place Vendome and tore down the pillar celebrating Napolean’s victories. Once the government was re-established, Courbet was dealt with severely. He was forbidden to ever show his work in France again; he could never return to his home in the Franche-Comté; and he was fined some 360,000 French Francs, monies that were meant to restore the famous column. (The restored version stands today in the Place Vendome, where one finds the Ritz Hotel.) Since he could not pay, nor return to his beloved home, Courbet fled to Switzerland where he lived for a few years more, dying there in 1877.

Whistler had his own problems. Of course, his romantic relationship with Jo came to an end, though the two of them seemed to hold each other in good regard even to the end of their lives. Whistler moved on to paint his famous Nocturnes in the 1870s and ran afoul of British art critic, John Ruskin, who verbally smeared the paintings so badly that Whistler sued for defamation. Whistler won, but the judgement was one farthing, and the court costs bankrupted him. For a while thereafter, Ruskin’s invectives so tarnished the reputation of the paintings that they were not saleable. Now, of course, they are greatly prized, as well they should be. For more on the Nocturnes see this post on ofartandwine.com.

As for Jo, after her romantic relationships with these artists, she still maintained contact with Whistler, befriended his next mistress, and helped to raise a son he had had with a parlor maid. After the 1880s, she was known to have lived in Nice, France, where she sold antiques and brocantes. She came to London for Whistler’s funeral in 1903, revealing herself by lifting her veil to show her red hair then streaked with some gray. She stood by his coffin for over an hour.

So to end this piece on the strange fame of an artist’s model, I send a personal shout out to the most famous artist’s model of the early 2000’s in my old hometown of Avignon, France. Her name is Sylvette. One of the best galleries there even did a show of artists’ sketches of her – 20 Artists and One Model, Sylvette. The invitation had a wonderful photo of her in a customary pose, and we all knew it was her from the curve of her lovely derriere. So here’s to Sylvette and to all the artist’s models, without whom art would be so much duller.

Paintings used are all in public domain.

Information gathered from Taschen publication, Courbet, written by Fabrice Masanés, 2006.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Wines of the Franche-Comté.

This is the famous Vin Jaune or yellow wine of the Franche-Comté served here along with Comté cheese. Photo credit to Arnaud 25.

Let’s not fool ourselves, the Franche-Comté region, home of the very proud Gustave Courbet, produces many of the finest wines in France. Red, white, or rosé, they are among the best. However, they also produce a regional specialty, Vin Jaune. It is made from a Sauvignin grape, though other regions have tried to replicate the wine with Chardonnay grapes. The Sauvignin is a relative of the Gewurtztraminer, and since the Franche-Comté is right on the Swiss border, the influence of the German wines is felt more strongly. The process of making Vin Jaune is one of long duration, taking six years and a few months to mature in oak barrels that give it a lingering taste of almonds. It even comes in a specific type of bottle, shown in the photo above, called a Clavelin, which according to Regions of France – Franche-Comté (regions-of-france.com) is almost as rare as the wine.

  • Aerial view on the old city and tower of the citadel of Besancon in Bourgogne Franche Comte region in France.

Vin Jaune, however, is not the only yellow wine produced in this region. Vin de Paille, or “straw wine” combines Chardonnay, Sauvignin and Poulsard grapes, which are dried for about two months on open-air racks until they reach 80% dehydration. Then they are pressed and aged in oak casques for two to three years. This labor-intensive process produces a wine with an alcohol content of 15-17%. It is to be served chilled and pairs very well with foie gras. The writer for the article containing information on this wine, as well as several other wines from the Franche-Comte, seems to feel it has “medicinal” properties as well, interfrance.com.

While on the subject of unique alcoholic products made in this mountainous region, I shall digress for a moment to present a special drink. It is not a wine, but a gentian liqueur made from the roots of a mountain flower. One version of it is served in the Hautes Alpes region and is known as génépy. This green liqueur was developed in the middle ages to help people with what they called “le mal des ardents” or a burning sickness. The burning was felt in the extremities, a sensation like having a foot that falls asleep. Normally one can shake off the burning if one gets up and walks around. However, with this sickness, the burning did not stop, because the circulation to the hands and feet was indeed being cut off. It lead to amputations, which were quite common until the mountain people learned from the importation of bread made from wheat that their problem came from eating rye bread. The rye bread had a parasite in it that infected the body and slowly caused circulation problems leading to those amputations. The one thing that they did figure out before learning about the parasite in the rye was that they needed something to keep the blood circulating. They invented a strong liqueur, génépy, to enliven the blood flow. To this day, if you want to give your system a good blast of energy on a cold winter’s night, génépy will do nicely.

Here are pictures of two other mountain liqueurs. The one on the left is a pine liqueur made from pine needles harvested in June. It comes in a wooden bottle and as you can see, it has little stubs of branches that have been cut off of the limb that makes the bottle. The green liqueur is a gentian liqueur made like génépy from the roots of mountain plants.

As has been stated, there are many fine red, white. and rosé wines made in the Franche-Comté. The reds normally are a mixture of grapes with, of course, Pinot Noir as one of the main elements since it is noted for giving a smooth finish. The whites are made from Chardonnay and Sauvignin grapes. The rosés are made from the Poulsard grapes and done in a way that allows it to pair well with charcuterie (cold cut meats). Once again, I refer you to the Interfrance link above for futher information on the food pairings for each of these wines.

Vin de Paille (straw wine) and Vin Jaune in its distinctive bottle, and the vineyards of the Franche-Comté in the background. Photos from interfrance.com

Remember that the wine-growing regions of France hold many unusual products with some of the most unusual histories. If you ever visit these areas, including Haute Savoie, and Hautes Alpes, enjoy all the wines, but when the chilly winds blow, go for the génépy.

Since we travel in vicarious ways these days during the pandemic, don’t forget to try out traveling through wine tasting. One great way to do that is to join a wine club. Cellars Wine Club is a fine way to experience the wines of the world and those from here in the U.S. Just click to go directly to cellarswineclub.com

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming soon: Degas Makes Pastel Landscapes Dance, plus Pouilly Fuissé Wine.

Landscape with Rocks by Edgar Degas, 1892.

We all know about Degas’ great pastels of ballerinas and dancers of various types. What is less well known is that he also did wonderful pastel landscapes, using a variety of techniques, including doing monotypes that were finished with pastels. Come explore these lesser known but equally beautiful works and see how a modern artist follows in that tradition.

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The Painted Allure of the Beach and Cool Summer Wines.

Cliffs at Etretat by Claude Monet, 1883. Click picture to magnify.

It’s summer, the dog days of, and what could be nicer and more refreshing than a stroll along the beach in the cool of the late afternoon or early evening? Monet takes us there in this painting of limestone crags, cousins of the White Cliffs of Dover, but these along the Normandy coast of France. It was somewhere along these cliffs, as Monet wrote to his second wife, Alice Hochede, that he lost a painting and nearly his life when a big wave came ashore and washed almost everything away with it. The perils of the beach should never be forgotten. Yet we love it truly, and especially when we see it as it is here, with dappled pink clouds against pale blue sky above the mirror of the sea. Monet even tints the sands of the beach a bit pink. What’s not to love about this scene? Shall we go there?

But wait! There are other beaches to explore. One does not often think of the rough, cockney-accented, J.M.W. Turner as someone who was particularly romantic, and certainly not as presented in Mike Leigh’s 2014 film, Mr Turner. However, there was something about the Kent Coast near Margate that captured his fancy, and it wasn’t just his lady friend, Mrs Booth.

The New Moon by J.M.W. Turner, 1890 The Tate Britain tate.org.uk Click picture to magnify.

Something about the sea and the setting sun must have made the old man go soft, for here we have children playing on the beach, dogs running in the surf, and grown-ups wading in the water. Even one of the names of the painting shows some of the action, as this painting is also called “I’ve lost My Boat; You shan’t have Your Hoop,” presumably the cries of the children. Golden days on a golden beach, as Turner transformed the sea and the sands into sparkles of golden light which reflect the magic of the setting sun’s last rays. However, not to be forgotten is the new moon, which shares the sky with that sunset.

On the other side of the Atlantic, Winslow Homer, America’s 19th century master of oils and watercolors, takes us to a potentially ominous stretch of water off the New England coast.

On the Beach by Winslow Homer, 1869. Click picture to magnify.

Homer lived most of his life in Maine, in and around Prouts Neck. Though this painting is from 1869, Homer really took to painting the sea after a stay in Britain in 1881-1882. He wound up living the last 25 years of his life in a cottage on a cliff overlooking the sea on a property owned by his family in Prouts Neck. That life long experience of the waters of the northern Atlantic shows up in this early seascape, where the waters have turned blackish-blue, and the pink from the sun’s rays are being overtaken by the gray fury of an oncoming storm. Those on the beach take cautious steps into the shallows, but may very well have to run from the wave that is about to break or suffer a severe smack-down.

This attraction to the waters was enhanced by Homer’s assignment for Century Magazine in 1884 when he was sent to capture the beauty of the Bahamas and Bermuda in winter. His task was to paint the lovely waters of the islands as promoters were beginning to see these islands as a winter getaway for those who wanted to escape the harsh northern cold. Certainly when compared to the beautiful but threatening waves in On the Beach, the lovely scene of Salt Kettle, Bermuda, invites one to relax in paradise.

Salt Kettle House, Bermuda by Winslow Homer, 1899 National Gallery of Art, Washington nga.gov

Of course, the Mediterranean is another wonderful place to frollick in the waves. This master of capturing that summer-by-the-sea feeling is Joaquin Sorolla. Elegant women dressed all in pristine white, carrying umbrellas, and wearing big hats with wispy veils stroll along the beaches of Sorolla’s paintings (See “The Paintings of Joaquin Sorolla…” ofartandwine.com). Below we have children strolling the shore hand-in-hand, creating idyllic memories that will warm their hearts in the years to come even into old age.

Two Little Girls on a Beach by Joaquin Sorolla, 1904. Click picture to magnify.

Sorolla’s deft touch makes us feel the breeze just by looking at how the wind moves the cloth of the girl’s dress, while the freshness of the water comes forth from the shine on the naked child’s feet and legs. The waves roll in gently enough for other youngsters to play among them. Sorolla even captures that thin band of pearly white seafoam that is the last of a wave before it melts into the sands.

But what is a person to do when trapped far from the beach on the sweltering streets of the big city? Well, former mayor of Paris, Bertrand Delanoe, looked out one hot day in 2002 from the windows of the Hotel de Ville, Paris’ city hall, and decided that Paris needed its own beach. After all though France has three seacoasts, none of them front Paris. Nature’s insult had to be remedied. Et voilà, Paris Plage (Paris Beach)!

Paris Plage (Paris Beach) in front of the city hall, le Hotel de Ville. Notice the impromptu volleyball game and the striped cabana.

Leave it to the French not to be outdone by nature. Paris Beach has taken on a number of iterations over the years and has extended down to the quai just above the river Seine. I can tell you that there is always a breeze flowing down the river.

However, as we all know, sadly going to the beach in great numbers, even to a faux beach in the city, is not adviseable during the COVID 19 pandemic. Though we can still enjoy the photos of Paris’ special tribute to beach culture (2019), we shall have to put aside for now our dreams of having our own cities make us a downtown beach. Cool idea, though.

Here the George Pompidou Walkway (2019). Photo credit and copyright Marc Bertrand, with thanks to the Paris Tourist Office.

For one more chance to have an artful summer beach experience, Sarah Herring, a curator at London’s National Gallery, has put together some wonderful paintings by Degas, Constable, Monet, and others to help one have a virtual summer vacation. It is called Beach Scenes; see it on youtube.com.

Paintings used are in public domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Chilled Wines for a Pandemic Picnic

A basket of basics that are easy to prepare, carry, and consume. Don’t forget a beach blanket, beach umbrella and your swimsuit even if you are only going to your backyard. (It’s all about imagination.)

One thing that the pandemic does not change is what to eat and drink when you are having a beach picnic. Now I don’t say you have to fill the backyard, patio, or deck with sand, though a potted palm might create the atmosphere. Once the scene is set then you must focus on what to munch on. I say munch on because beach picnics are not to be confused with a backyard cook-out. (Some even make distinctions between a cook-out, normally a barbeque, and fish-fry, but we won’t get that complicated here.) The main thing about a picnic, even on an imaginary beach, is to keep it simple. We want to have good, tasty things, but ones that are easy to fix, easy to carry, and easy to consume. That means cold cuts, cold chicken, cheeses and crackers, stuffed olives, cornichons (those little fermented pickles), baquettes of bread, fresh fruits, and wine, of course.

Now for the wine, we are not having roasted meats or meats with spicy sauces. In fact, we are not cooking at the beach (nor in our patio or backyard for this); we are just eating light. That means we want light wines. Needless to say, almost any rosé would work well, but those made from Pinot Noir grapes are especially nice. If you feel like celebrating, a sparkling rosé is a wonderful choice, and some very nice ones are made from Syrah grapes. Of course they must be kept chilled, so don’t forget the cooler (unless you want to keep running to the fridge). Best temperature for a high quality sparkling rosé is about 45 degrees; ordinary less-expensive rosé is 41 degrees; and for inexpensive champagne, 37 degrees.

La vie en rose

However, one must not forget the wonderful freshness of white wines like Sauvignon Blanc or Chenin Blanc. Sauvignon Blanc wines are either very dry or rather sweet, so be careful with selecting. The dry ones would go well with our cheeses and the cold chicken. Of course, since our picnic is at our homemade beach, you could always run to your favorite Japanese restaurant for some take- out sushi – yummy with Sauvignon Blanc. Chenin Blanc is more versatile overall, but for our picnic, it is best suited to the cold cuts, cold chicken, and cheeses.

For those who like red wines in summer, they go perfectly with our picnic’s cheeses and cold cuts. Photo credit to winetours.mk Check out this link for lots of tasting and food pairing information.

Yes, summer makes us think of chilled rosé or Chenin Blanc, but there are red wines that really fill the bill in summer. Beaujolais or any of the wines from Gamay grapes are a bit lighter in taste. You could also experiment with a Loire Valley Cabernet Franc or an Italian Valpolicella. Red wines are normally drunk at room temperature or around 65 degrees. However, this is summertime, and with lighter reds, so it is okay to let your light Pinot Noir, or Beaujolais sit in an ice bucket of half ice and half water for about 15-20 minutes before serving. The temprature would be about 50 degrees. The heavier reds, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Syrah, should just be room temperature, and certainly no lower than 60 degrees, otherwise their flavors change and bring out unpleasant qualities attached to tannin levels.

While we don’t have to the luxury of going off to Canada for a tasting experience in an igloo (see the video in a post on ofartandwine.com), Ice Wines are also quite nice in summer to finish off a meal with a touch of sweet. They work well with soft cheeses and with cheesecake, perhaps with a berry topping.

So pandemic not withstanding, we can still have our summer picnic fun. It just takes bit a creativity and care. Bon appetit!

One more thing, when wanting to travel via wine tasting, one can join a wine club. The CellarsWineClub.com offerings on this site (see Pages) present a wide selection for every budget and level of taste, a “no bad bottle” return policy, and free shipping. Check it out. They also have a Give Back program that allows you to give part of the purchase to one of a number of vetted charities. You can feel good and do good.

Note: I affiliate with Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: One Model, Two Artists, Great Art, and Wine in France-Comté

James McNeill Whistler came to visit fellow painter, Gustave Courbet, bringing along with him his new mistress, Jo, “la belle Irlandaise.” It was only a matter of time before this:

The Lovers by Gustave Courbet, c.1844

Admittedly the woman here is not Jo, as this is an earlier painting, but it is – uh humm – the most polite expression I can find for what happened. I shall spill the tea in the next article.

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Scandal! Sargent and Madame X. Was it the Sparkling Rosé?

Madame X by John Singer Sargent, 1884. Metropolitan Museum, New York.

There are three actors in this drama. She was Virginie Amélie, Madame Pierre Gautreau, born in the U.S., a daughter of French planters who had returned to France from Louisiana during the American Civil War. Her marriage to Gautreau, a wealthy Parisian banker, combined with her beauty and style to boost her to the top of French high society in 1880s Paris. He was John Singer Sargent, another American, who was born in Florence, Italy, to American parents and raised mostly in Europe. Sargent, a young man in his 20s and a very talented artist, had come to Paris to make his name as a painter. And the third actor? Well Paris, of course, the City of Light, as it was known at that time. It was full of the fresh energy of the Impressionism of Monet, Renoir, Degas, and others. DeBussy presented his music that floated along with the light airy ambiance of those new paintings. This new energy even had its own poète du jour, Stéphane Mallarmé, a great friend to this revolutionary new art and its artists. All was bright, light, elegant, foie gras and champagne, Paris, Paris, Paris, and French, French, French.

To this Paris came John Singer Sargent, a talented young painter already gaining favor as a portrait artist (see here his self-portrait), and a young man bent on establishing himself and his career as the man to go to for portraits of the rich and famous who populated Parisian high society. His parents had moved to Europe to help his mother recover from a breakdown. They wandered Europe for years as well-off nomads, though they did keep an apartment in Paris.

Sargent was a man with a plan. Yes, one could spend years painting various and sundry rich clients. Profitable, yes, of course, it would be profitable, but why not just go for the top? The top was Virginie Amélie Gautreau, known as Amélie, the most beautiful woman in Paris at the time, and one who knew how to show it off. With a splendid figure (note the painting at the top of this page), she was known for having extremely pale skin, and dark hair with a touch of red to it. To highlight that dash of color, she would tint the tops of her ears with a rose pink powder. Being the wife of an extremely wealthy man, she was always finely dressed and made her appearance at all the most celebrated locales. However, most important of all in this story, she was American (of sorts) and so was Sargent (of sorts).

THE PLOT THICKENS

Madame Gautreau Drinking a Toast by John Singer Sargent, 1882-1883. isabella Stuart Gardener Museum, Boston, MA. Click painting to magnify.

Well, how better to highlight your skills as a painter and flatter the woman most sought after by the portrait painters of that day than by showing off a beautiful painting of her, here, drinking a toast. It took Sargent two years to persuade her, but at last, where others had failed, Sargent gained her permission to paint a portrait of her. He proposed a painting that is tall and narrow (82″ x 40″), meaning that within that large space he could paint her life-size. She even let him come choose the dress that she would wear. He choose the black gown with the glimmering straps. Now, none of us were present as this painting was being planned, but it is speculated that for both of them, this was to be la piece de resistance, a showpiece to wow the whole of Paris.

In those days, the proper society portrait was quite restrained. See these examples below. The figure on the left is Mrs. Henry White, obviously a wealthy, elegant lady, who could afford to dress well and have Sargent show it off. Next to her is a picture of a Young Lady by Edouard Manet. The parrot is important here, as this was Manet’s finger wagging “tut, tut” response to Gustave Courbet’s sumptuous nude painting, Woman with a Parrot. Manet, of course, also painted nudes (see his Olympia). However, the women he and Courbet were representing in those nude paintings were not high society ladies, like Sargent’s Madame Gautreau.

Mrs. Henry White, by John Singer Sargent, 1883 and Young Lady by Edouard Manet, 1866

As anyone can imagine given the proper portraits of the time, Sargent’s depiction of Madame Gautreau was seen as a bit too much. The feeling of scandal was heightened by the fact that in the original, the right strap of the dress had fallen off her shoulder. The sensuality implied by this seemed to indicate a rather risqué sexuality, as though her clothes were about to fall off. The shock of the boldness of this painting caused Sargent to quickly modify it by painting the strap in its proper position, but the damage had been done.

The public reaction had been quick and vicious. This painting, which was meant to be a homage to her great beauty, made her the laughingstock of Paris, as she was seen to be “ghastly pale,” flagrantly sexual, exaggerated in pose, and thoroughly inappropriate. Sargent’s commissions dried up immediately. At one point he considered stopping painting and taking up a career in music. Madame Gautreau’s celebrity crashed, and she literally withdrew from society, her days as the glamorous queen of beauty over.

Certainly it seems odd, that in Paris, where one would expect a more open attitude toward the sensual, that this fallen strap would cause such a furor, especially as the French are very proud of their reputation as lovers. Having lived in France for a number of years (which were among the happiest in my life), I am going to speculate here. The French love an elegant gesture, that little touch that captures the eye, titillates the senses, and elicits a cheeky smile, but they like it when they are the ones doing it. My feeling is that these two Americans, for as European as they were (one having French parents and the other growing up in Europe), were still considered a bit autre, other and outside. How dare they try to out-French, the French! For that attempt, they must pay.

While Madame Gautreau assumed a more sheltered life, having fallen from the heights, Sargent decided not to give up painting, thankfully. He, like the characters in Tale of Two Cities, just hopped across the Channel to London, where he began a prosperous career with this sensational painting – appropriately sensational this time.

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose by John Singer Sargent. 1885-86 Now in the Tate Britain, London.

As for the painting of Madame Gautreau, well, Sargent had to protect it from her family. Her mother wanted it destroyed. Sargent was concerned about Gautreau’s reputation, so he refused to show the painting again. When he sold it to the Metropolitan Museum in 1916, he did it under the condition that it would be named Madame X, to conceal the name of the woman whose portrait it was. However, the scandal never died. Sadly, Sargent said of the painting that he thought it was his best work.

For more on the scandalous Madame Gautreau, try “15 Salacious Facts About John Singer Sargent’s Portrait of Madame X” www.mentalfloss.com For a short video history of the painting, try Art Attack – John Singer Sargent Madame X. youtube.com.

The paintings discussed in this article are all in Public Domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler who loves art and wine. For more see Pages, ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Summer’s Here! Time for Sparkling Rosé

Glass of rose sparkling wine Photo from Freepik.com

Yes, I know that rosé can be consumed even in the depths of winter, but somehow that delicious pink color, the dry light flavor with its hint of strawberries, and those bubbles, all seem like a celebration of summer to me. Forgive me. It was last August when I first brought up the subject of rosé wine. (See “Straight Out of Provence” ofartandwine.com). From there you can learn the basics about it, for instance, that it is not just White Zinfandel or Blush wine or wine made from just blending red and white wines (though some rosé champagnes made that way are). For a quick visual primer, take a look at this short video to check out this Rosé Wine Guide, youtube.com.

These tiny beauties are champagne grapes of the kind one sees growing in Champagne in France. The types of grapes that go into champagne are limited to Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Meunier. The method for making the wine is called la méthode champenoise. The method is also used to make sparkling wines, the only difference being that the sparkling wines not made in Champagne, France cannot use the name Champagne. (The U.S. did not sign that treaty, hence our use of the name champagne.)

Now, back to this seasonal business, of rosé being for spring and summer. Well, there is a certain logic to it, because the wine should be drunk within the first 18 months after harvest. In the northern hemisphere, that means that since the harvest is in August-September, the wines come to market in the spring, just in time for long days and balmy, even hot summer weather. The heat of those days does play rather well into serving a sparkling rosé or rosé champagne since it should be chilled to about 47-50 degrees. Be careful, though, not to get it too cold for that can change the taste by chilling your taste buds.

Then there is the matter of the proper glass. If you are a fan of the classic Hollywood movies of yesteryear, then you have seen those champagne glasses with the wide bowl. Lovely and elegant as they are, they allow too many of the bubbles to escape. Remember what Dom Perignon said when he first tasted sparkling wine, “I am tasting the stars!” That is exactly what you want to do, so you must have those bubbles well-encased in a tall narrow glass like the one at the beginning of this article. The other thing to be sure to do is open the bottle correctly. Yes, indeed there is a correct way, and not following it can waste a lot of the carbon dioxide that is responsible for the bubbles, not to mention how much can be wasted if the bottle overflows. However, I have just the thing, a primer of sorts on how to open champagne or sparkling wine the right way. See “You’re Doing It All Wrong” on youtube.com

SO WHAT DO YOU EAT WITH THIS STUFF?

This covers a host of options, including various other wines. See “How to Host an Impromptu Wine and Cheese Party at cottercrunch.com.

One of the nicest things about rosé wines is that they are very food-friendly. That means they go with just about everything. The dry quality of rosé complements spicy food, fried dishes, even barbeque, and hot buttered popcorn. If one is presenting a toast to start off the evening along with soft cheeses, olives, thin slices of prosciutto, smoked salmon, and even a few berries (see above), then a toast made with a sparkling rosé is just what you need. Rosé has rather high acidity which makes it work well with every thing from heavy sauces to salads and seafood. When time comes for dessert, a sparkling rosé works especially well with fruit tarts or fresh berries covered in chocolate.

So in the grand style of Madame Gautreau, who in the final analysis is forever chic. at least as painted by Sargent, lift high your glass of that beautiful pink bubbly and toast to whatever pleases you the most, perhaps a plate of oysters, a spicy barbeque, or even hot buttered popcorn. The choice is yours. Chin-chin! A votre sante!

One way to get involved in the world of wines is to join a wine club. Cellars Wine Club offers a selection of wine clubs to fit every budget and every level of expertise. The “no bad bottle” return policy is a feature as is free shipping. As well they have a Give Back program that lets members have 15% of the purchase donated to one of the vetted charities offered. With Cellars you can drink good wine, feel good, and do good.

See the Cellars Wine Club selections under Pages ofartandwine.com
Note: I affiliate with Bluehost.com and CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: The Painted Allure of the Beach and Cool Summer Wines.

Joaquin Sorolla, Valencia Two Little Girls on the Beach. Click picture to magnify.

So it is summer and beach or no beach, it’s hot. One way to cool off, especially if there is no beach near, is to look at paintings that show a love of the sea and the beach. Whether sail boats in the Mediterranean or sunsets off the coast of California, paintings can take you on a mini-vacation. And of course, what goes better with a day at the beach than a picnic complemented by a cooler filled with wonderfully chilled wine.

Featured

Caravaggio’s Chiaroscuro, and Lazio, the Roman Wine Region.


Boy Bitten by a Lizard by Michelangelo da Caravaggio, 1594-1596 National Gallery in London, U.K.

This is a young Caravaggio painting. The model may not be Caravaggio as once suspected but supposedly a certain Mario Minniti. Either way, one can see the artist’s ability to do the face with emotion and the still life elements with detail, which shows he gained a lot working in the studios of other artists in Rome. However, he never had a studio himself. Obviously, in whatever rooms he lived in, he would set up a model, sometimes himself, gather a few objects, and paint. While Caravaggio became famous for his Baroque style religious paintings which hang in a number of churches in Italy, these early paintings of pretty boys in hard circumstances show a lot about the life he led and the development of the painting technique he is most famous for, Chiaroscuro.

Chiaroscuro literally means light and dark. It actually seems to have been developed first by Leonardo da Vinci and can be seen in his drawings of drapery with ink washes done on colored paper. However, the sharp contrasts used by Caravaggio, and the way he uses light and dark to tell stories in his paintings has forever attached the term chiaroscuro to his name. In the painting above, we see the young man in a less that white garment, a coquettish flower in his tousled unkempt hair, getting a surprise bite from a lizard hidden in the assembled greenery of the still life. The sharp contrast of the light on his shoulder and part of his face, seem to go along with the pretense of elegance the flower in his hair suggests. Yet it also shows his dirt-rimmed fingernails. The lizard is rather obscured by the darkness of the leaves and the heavy shadow on the table. Its bite is a little reminder of the ever presence of mortality that lurked in the Roman environment, where life was short and not always sweet.

Duality is everywhere here and indicated by the sharp contrast in dark and light. Even the lovely vase that reflects some light seems to have slightly grayish water and a fading flower with leaves turned black. The young man is shocked by the bite, which Caravaggio paints with all the emotion that Baroque art loves. The viewer of the painting is shocked, too, by the griminess and the wretched sadness of the circumstances in contrast to the beauty of the painting and the expression. It is in some respects a bi-polar representation of perhaps a bi-polar life.

Boy with a Basket of Fruit and Young Sick Bacchus, both by Caravaggio, 1593.

Michelangelo Merisi had a hard scrabble life, exacerbated by his rough and ready personality and the harsh times he lived in. He was born in Milan in 1571, but raised in the town of Caravaggio (hence the name he is known by) because of an outbreak of plague in Milan. At the age of six, he lost his father. He spent his teens working in artists’ workshops in Milan, where there is no record of any notable achievement. At 20 he went off to Rome to seek his fortune. During the eight years it took before he found a wealthy patron, he sold his work as he could (see the Boy Bitten by a Lizard, above). He apprenticed in the studios of two different artists, but with no works pointing notably to him. In one studio he painted faces, and in the other he painted fruits, flowers, and other still life elements. He lived as he could, often used friends or people from the streets as models, and in a pinch, he posed himself (Young Sick Bacchus, 1593). He had a few good years when he had the protection of patrons, but he killed a man and had to flee Rome under penalty of death in 1606. From there it was off to Naples and then to Malta, painting magnificent paintings, becoming a Knight of Malta and then their most wanted criminal, as he went. Finally in 1610 he died, either of fever, or being murdered, or having lead poisoning from his paints.

So what accounts for paintings like the one below? It is hard to find a sweeter, more lovely representation of a Bible story. The mother and child are asleep with the mother’s chin resting gently on the child’s head. Joseph, ever the guardian, sits by the light of a campfire that must be just out of our view. Before him stands an exquisite angel, playing sweet music to bring them a moment of respite.

Rest on the Flight to Egypt, by Michelangelo da Caravaggio, 1597. Click to magnify.

Here as usual with Caravaggio, the way the light falls helps to tell the story. The faces of Mary and the baby are in bright light. There are no halos as there would have been in medieval times, but the light upon those figures is quite bright. Joseph is once again a type of secondary character, as he often is in nativity scenes where he is off to the side, holding perhaps a candle or a lamp. His face is in shadow here, and once again he serves by holding the sheet music for the angel. Finally we have the angel who is the brightest figure present. His robe is quite white as it swirls about him, indicating his perfect body in quite a sensuous way. Of his face we only see the profile with his eyes downcast in the direction of the sheet music that Joseph holds at an angle. The nighttime gloom that surrounds these fugitives is brighten by this presence, and that little campfire just out of our sight, which flushes the face of the angel.

The painting below depicts St. Anne, the mother of Mary, the Madonna, herself, and Jesus. It is often called the Madonna of the Serpent and was one of Caravaggio’s last paintings done in Rome. It was commissioned by the Confraternity of Sant’ Anna dei Palafrenerie, or the Grooms of the Vatican Palace. It was done in 1605-1606 just as Caravaggio’s life was about to spin out of control. That may explain the overly heavy, almost solid black background. The painting was rejected after hanging for just two days. The Virgin Mary was deemed to be too voluptuous.

Click on picture to magnify.

The interesting thing here is how he uses a light that comes from somewhere outside of the picture to strongly highlight the Madonna, the child, and the pale undersides of the snake. St. Anne herself is a bit in the shadow, a secondary player, though she must be there since it is a confraternity dedicated to her that commissioned the painting. Her white scarf catches the light which also highlights her dark clothing, but her face which is looking down at the scene, very calmly I must admit, is in shadow. Mary, without alarm, places her foot on the serpent’s head, but her force is added to by the foot of her son. That force makes the snake’s body writhe and twist, which is dramatically emphasized by the use of light color that traces the movement of its body. In the symbolism of the time, this Baroque painting was about stamping out heresy, which is what the Catholic Church thought of Protestantism. What we see once again is Caravaggio’s take on religion where angels and Jesus are pure beautiful boys, and women, including the Madonna, show themselves as rather full-bodied. It was his way of telling those stories with a kind of earthy reality that the viewers of the time could relate to, even if some of his patrons did not.

For a bit more information on the life and work of Caravaggio, British art historian, Andrew Graham Dixon has done a reprise of an earlier investigation he did on Caravaggio, titled, Who Killed Caravaggio? He takes a C.S.I. approach to ferreting out the details of the painter’s life which expose some startling discoveries (spoiler: Caravaggio may have killed a man over a woman!) Find it here on youtube.com. Should you want to see the effects of chiaroscuro lighting, there is a little video that shows it with simple, clear examples: youtube.com

The paintings of Caravaggio are in Public Domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.comor her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

The Wines of Roma

Ancient Roman wine amphorae found off the coast of Mallorca. Photo credit SportDiver.com

While the Ancient Egyptians created lovely paintings of bowers of growing grape vines, and the Greeks spread the cultivation of wine to the island of Sicily, nothing spread the creation and consumption of wine like the Roman Empire. Roma, the great and powerful, spread wine far and wide, even growing wine grapes in Britain, though the recurring mini ice-ages always brought the process to a halt. Their wine amphorae are often found on ancient ship wrecks in the Mediterranean, proving that Roman wine was a much sought after commodity.

Of course the Romans came by their wine indulgence from their northern forebearers, the Etruscans, who were cultivating grapes and making wine in the 6th century B.C. Since the Etruscans were also great believers in commerce, they sold their wines all over, including to the inhabitants of southern France, which started a fledgling wine industry there. Naturally as with so many other things, the Romans learned about wine and took to it very well. However, don’t think they spent their days in an inebriated haze. Oh no, too much to conquer and administer for that. Romans drank their wine diluted with water (2 parts water to one part wine), and a good thing too, since those ancient wines had ABV of 15 -20%! Drinking the undiluted wine was considered to be rather low class. Class was also indicated by the type of wine consumed, with the wealthy and upper class drinking white wines, while the lower classes drank red.

A Banquet, The Feast of Velthur Velch, from the Etruscan town of Tarquinia

Italy, as we know is full of wine-growing regions, and the citizens of the capital city, Rome itself, had fertile valleys of volcanic soil on their doorstep in a region known as Latium, now called Lazio. One would think that being so close to the center of power that Lazio would be one of Italy’s key wine-growing regions, but alas like the luster of the Roman Empire, it has come down in the world. It became known for rather uninteresting sweet white wines. However, things are beginning to look up. This summer the wonderful confluence of Italian culture, books, wine, and food that is Eataly is celebrating Roma by making their stores into an homage to the ancient capital of the western world. Naturally they focus on wines from the Roma region, Lazio, telling visitors to “Drink like the Romans do.” They focus on “an aromatic” white wine called Est! Est! Est! and a “silky” red called Mata Matuta. eataly.com

While Lazio suffered from over production of cheap wines, which ruined its reputation, vintners are now looking at combining new technology, the rich contents of that volcanic soil, and a wide variety of grapes to produce wines of note. Frascati, made from two white grapes, Trebbiano and Malvasia, has become quite popular. Jacopo Mazzeo, writes that Frascati has “refreshing acidity and beautiful scents of candy fruits, Mediterranean herbs, blossom and apricot.” He also tells the story of how that other emerging wine from the Montefiascone DOC, Est! Est! Est!, supposedly got its name. See the article at greatitalianchefs.com

It seems that while other areas were claiming all the glory, many vintners in Lazio took the time to experiment with different types of grapes to see which ones were well suited to their volcanic soil. They began growing a number of grapes more common to France, such as Chardonnay, Viognier, and Sauvignon Blanc. With an eye to history, there is a wine from the combination of Viognier and Chardonnay named Antinoo, after a statue of Emperor Hadrian’s favorite youthful companion, Antinous. Unlike the Emperor’s favorite, this wine seems to age well, making it particularly exceptional. For a more complete guide to the wines of Lazio, with tasting notes, see “Really Good Wines from Lazio” at wineloverspage.com

Sandy’s Chicken Saltimbocca from allrecipes.com

What’s wine without food? Well, it’s good, but certainly everything is better with a bite to eat. Frascati is great with white fish, light pasta and salads. The chicken saltimbocca works well with the Antinoo or the Frascati. For a meat dish like oven-roasted lamb cutlet, a Roman favorite, try a Petit Verdot red. Casale del Giglio makes a very good one. So when in Rome or at your favorite Eataly, experience the wines of Roma, from Lazio, and look around for a book on Caravaggio.

Since travel is a bit restricted at the moment, you can always travel the world of wine through a wine club. Cellars Wine Club offers a variety of choices including an International Wine Club (cellarswineclub.com). Take a look at all of the clubs by clicking on Cellars Wine Club under Of Art and Wine Pages. They all offer free shipping, a “no bad bottle” return policy, and Cellars will donate 15% of the sale to one of the vetted charities that you choose. While you enjoy the wine, you can feel good and do good – a perfect pairing.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: Scandal! Sargent and Madame X. Was it the Sparkling Rosé?

Madame X by John Singer Sargent, 1884

Well, nothing like a good scandal. That is exactly what happened when these two American-born members of French society became perhaps a bit too French for the French. They say it was all about the strap of the gown being shown having slipped off her shoulder, but was it?

Featured

The Paintings of Joaquín Sorolla, plus Valencia’s Unsung Bobal Grape.

Strolling Along the Beach by Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, 1909. Sorolla Museum, Madrid, Spain.

Well, nothing like a lovely day at the beach, and here Joaquín Sorolla (1863-1923), the Spanish Master of Light, as proclaimed by the National Gallery of London in its 2019 exhibition of the artist’s work, makes an elegant early 20th century fashion statement as well. The two women, Sorolla’s wife and his daughter, walk so lightly on the sands that they leave no footprints. Visions they are indeed as they pass over the sands, leaning gently into the breeze that elegantly lifts the diaphranous veils of their outfits. They seem to be on their way to passing outside of the picture frame as they continue their stroll.

That breeze is further indicated by the brush strokes that show the incoming waters from the sea. A slight diagonal indicates the ladies’ progress and that is matched by the white line of sea foam running diagonally across the top of the painting. The action of the stroll is captured by this use of horizontal diagonals, and gently represented also by the vertical diagonal lines of the two women’s bodies. The movement is elegant; the sea is calm; the breeze is light, and the sun shines upon it all with delight. The bright white garments with their pale lavender and blue shadows echo the colors of the sea, while the daughter’s hat echoes the colors of the sand – a perfect harmony. Interestingly, in the shadow of the daughter is what could be a face in the sand, perhaps Sorolla is looking at these two beloved members of his family and thus also enjoying the stroll on the beach. (More on Sorolla’s shadow and reflection tricks later.)

Joaquín Sorolla, seen here in a 1909 self-portrait, was orphaned at the age of two, but was cared for by an aunt and uncle. The aunt in particular encouraged his artistic skills. He studied in Madrid, then went off to Rome, and finally in 1885 to Paris where he was influenced by the trend toward impressionism. His own work in fact is referred to as Spanish Impressionism. Upon his return to his native Valencia in 1888, he married his beloved Clothilde, started a family, and launched his grand plans for worldwide fame and fortune.

In the 1890s, the artist directed his work toward international exhibitions and world fairs, for which he did extraordinarily large works which capitalized on his ability to express the luminosity of the sunlit seacoast that bordered Valencia. This was done intentionally to attract global attention to his work. His grand plan to attain this worldwide fame and fortune came to fruition while on a trip to London in 1908, where he met Arthur Huntington, a descendant of Collis Huntington, a railroad baron. Arthur Huntington had founded the Hispanic Society of America in New York City and invited Sorolla to exhibit there in 1909. Sorolla sold 195 paintings and garnered 25 private commissions from that exhibition. As well, Huntington commissioned Sorolla to fill the walls of the building housing the Hispanic Society of America with paintings of Spanish life. Sorolla spent from 1910 to 1920 traveling Spain to capture its life and traditions for this series of huge paintings that filled the walls almost as a gigantic panoramic mural.

Las tres velas or The Three Sails, 1903 and Fisherwomen on the Beach, 1903 by Joaquin Sorolla.

The way that Sorolla used paint has become of as much interest as the subject matter represented, which was always about Spain. His work is known for the use of thick paint, broad brush strokes, light effects, and good drawing skills, all of which produced what became a type of Spanish Impressionism known as Valencian Luminism. In the paintings above done in the early 20th century, one can see the perfection of his techniques in creating luminous canvases. The beautiful pastels of the fisherwomen’s dresses and their bright white head scarves bring them forward in the painting. The reprise of light colors brings out the fullness of the sails in the background and unifies the painting.

As a Spaniard, Sorolla was also much influenced by the great Spanish painters who came before him, first and foremost, Diego Velazquez. Velazquez was the master of black, an important color in the Spanish wardrobe, and he used it effectively in the chiaroscuro techniques associated with Baroque art. Sorolla’s early paintings often used dark settings in which the lighter figures would stand out. We can see Sorolla’s handling of figures in a dimly lit setting in the painting below.

Kissing the Relic by Joaquin Sorolla, 1893

However, beyond balancing light and dark in a masterful way, Sorolla also took on Velazquez’ claim to be able to do wonderful portraits in about two hours, as according to Velazquez, it was necessary to capture the essence of the person quickly to do it justice. One of Velazquez’ most famous portraits was of Juan de Pareja, a painting so powerful that by some accounts it led to de Pareja’s emancipation. (See Of Art and Wine post “Diego Velazquez, Juan de Pareja …” March 10, 2020.) Sorolla also became a master at capturing not just the likeness but also something of the soul of those whose portraits he did. However, Sorolla took on Velazquez in other areas, adding his own special touch. Let’s look at the two nude figures below.

The Rokeby Venus, also known as Venus del espejo or Venus at Her Mirror by Diego Velazquez, 1647-1651. Click picture to magnify.

This is the only nude painting that we have by Diego Velazquez. It represents a theme common for a while in Venetian painting, that of a beautiful woman (Venus) gazing at her reflection in a mirror. The flesh tones are quite natural and the fabrics of the bed are handled to show their satiny elegance. Now look at Sorolla’s nude.

This nude is sometimes called Gypsy, 1908 by Joaquin Sorolla. Click picture to magnify.

Sorolla’s wife, Clothilde, posed for this painting, but the artist discreetly gave it another name, Gypsy. Sorolla’s adherence to luminosity shows through in the representation of the fabric, but also it shows in the treatment of the model’s skin which takes on the effects of the violet shadows in the fabric.

Another master of Spanish painting is Francisco Goya, who painted one of the other famous nudes in Spanish painting, The Naked Maja. Some art historians see Sorolla as the link between Goya and Picasso. (For that discussion along with other information about Sorolla, click on this link to a video from the National Gallery of London youtube.com.) Sorolla honored Goya in a specific way with the portrait of his own daughter, Maria, in a black mantilla and a white skirt.

Here Sorolla paints María in a pose similar to the famous paintings by Francisco Goya of the Duchess of Alba. Sorolla’s daughter wears a mantilla that is almost as elaborate as that of the duchess. Her delicate slipper appears gracefully from under her ruffled skirt, and she holds a fan in her hand, as was appropriate for any señorita. Interestingly, Sorolla pays homage to both of Goya’s portraits of the duchess by combining into one painting the pose and the reference to the two different poses of duchess María Caetana, the Black Duchess in which she is dressed all in black and the White Duchess in which she wears a white dress.

The White Duchess, 1795 and the Black Duchess, 1797 by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes

I mentioned before that Sorolla liked to play tricks with shadow and reflection. One of his most dramatic pieces is Reflections in a Fountain (1908). It seems that his visit to Granada and the Alhambra palace in 1908 restored his faith in a country which had become in his opinion increasingly “vulgar and empty” (see link below to article in El Pais). When looking at this painting, at first it is disorienting, though ever so lovely. Then we adjust our vision to realize that we are looking at a mirror image, a reflection in water of a structure that we do not actually see.

Reflections in a Fountain, 1908 by Joaquin Sorolla. See “Sorolla Revisits the Alhambra” english.elpais.com Click picture to magnify.

For another look at how Sorolla could play with the viewer’s consciousness and offer up surprises is the painting below. Again, at first glance one is disoriented. It takes a moment or two to decipher what is being shown. We see rocks and water, but there is a strange division in the painting, with one part light and the other dark. What is going on here?

Click picture to magnify.

Then we notice the patch of yellow on the left side and a less well-defined one that shimmers in the water. They are the arches of an old bridge, and this painting is The Shadow of the Alcantara Bridge, Toledo (1906). These visual tricks make the viewer stop to wonder. Admittedly one is helped by reading the title, but even with that, it may take a moment to orient one’s view. It is wonderful to see how the artist accomplishes this representation of an observed reality. Sorolla’s skill and delight in playing with shadow and reflection is what caused me to speculate that in the painting of the stroll on the beach, there is in his daughter’s shadow a face in the sand. As a painter myself, I also would say that one does not leave distracting images unless one intends to leave them.

While Sorolla focused on Spain and on some of the great Spanish masters, and we know that he was influenced also by Impressionism, he had a friendly rivalry with some of his contemporaries like Whistler and Sargent. One can make a direct comparison with Sargent if one looks at the three pictures below.

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose by John Singer Sargent; Lilies by Sorolla and Flowers and a Birdbath by Sorolla

Sorolla did not live to see his great paintings hung in the Hispanic Society of America in New York. The artist died in 1923 following a stroke in 1920 just after finishing the series of paintings for Huntington. Unfortunately, by the time the paintings were hung in 1926, his work was considered passé. Not unlike Monet who suffered the same fate until the 1950s began a revival of his work, Sorolla is having a resurgence of interest, with modern painters who are fascinated with his use of paint, and how he could represent the effects of light. The results of this newly found interest will only help move painting in new directions with Sorolla’s work as a sound stepping stone.

One of Sorolla’s last paintings is of his garden with an empty chair. The Gardens of the Sorolla Family House (1920).

The paintings of Sorolla, Goya, and Velazquez are all in public domain. References for information in this post are listed in linked items that appear throughout the article.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com

Bobal, the Unsung Grape of Valencian Wine.

A cluste of Bobal grapes from a vineyard near Valencia . Photo credit viator.com

Beautiful as is this cluster of blue-violet grapes, this grape was the cause of Valencia’s wine growing region having the reputation of being rather lackluster in terms of its wine. Merlot, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Sauvignon, the giants of wine production, never took too well to the soils of Valencia Province, which is hot and has little rain, though a nice sea breeze passes through often. So how did Bobal get to be the third most commonly planted grape in Spain?

Well, there was this little aphid that liked to eat the roots of grape vines, and it (phylloxera) took a distinct liking to the precious grape vines of France in 1877. Horrors! What were the wine merchants ever to do to make up the shortage caused by that pesky insect? Eyes turned to Spain where the aphid had not yet struck, and there near enough to France was Valencia and those fields of this grape which could be added into red wine to cover the deficit in other varieties. Et voilà! Valencia enters the bulk wine business.

A vineyard in the Valencia DO Photo credit viator.com

With a thick skin and the ability to resist drought, this grape makes deep red wine that is high in tannins, low in acidity, high in alcohol, and full of rich fruit flavors. While the bulk wine aspect of Bobal has been a mainstay, the current question is how to change Bobal into a source for the making of fine wines. One direction has been the production of organic wines with 100% Bobal grapes. As well, the grapes are high in resveratrol, which is a natural antioxident. What could be better for an organic wine? The Tarantas brand has developed both a Tarantas Rosé and a Tarantas Sparkling Rosé made from organically grown Bobal grapes. Their wines are often sold at Whole Foods, so look for them there. For more go to naturalmerchants.com.

Some winemakers like Victor de la Serna, came to Manchuela,, an area near Valencia, because he married into a family from there. He took to experimenting with the local Bobal grape, combining it with Syrah grapes and Monastrell to produce a Syrah wine that produces a rather exotic taste of “fruits and flowers.” (See nytimes.com). Another winemaker in the area, who is known as Mr. Ponce, talks about the challenge of making a fine wine and refers to the Bobal as “unique and mystical.” He makes an exceptional rosé of Bobal grapes called Las Cañadas.

That great Spanish Mediterranean Invention – Paella!

One can’t help but associate Valencia with the wonders of the sea that all come together in paella. This dish is rich, rich, rich, and a great treat. What better to serve with it than a fine rosé made from Bobal grapes. However, food choices are not limited to seafood. Orange chicken is a nice match, as are casseroles and even barbeque. And do not be afraid to drink this rich red wine in summer. HuffPost recently featured this article, “Spain’s Bobal Wines for Summer,” huffpost.com.

Nothing like a sugar-free dessert like this cheese cake with fruit topping. Once you have this dessert, so restrained on calories, you can be bad with a sip of Fondillon, a dessert wine made from the late harvest of grapes including Bobal.

So in the heat of summer when travel is limited, I suggest that you take a virtual trip to Valencia via Sorolla’s paintings (click here for a video montage of Sorolla’s work youtube.com), have a wonderful paella, and a glass of Valencia’s own Bobal wine from one of the sources above. Should you want to explore further a field, just click on Cellars Wine Club under Pages in this blog to see the options for all the types of clubs available. There is something for every level of wine expertise and budget, free shipping, and a “no bad bottle” return policy. Or just click here cellarswineclub.com.

Note: I am an associate of Cellars Wine Club and may earn from qualifying purchases.

Coming Soon: Caravaggio’s Chiaroscuro, and Lazio, the Roman Wine Region.

The Flight Into Egypt by Caravaggio. 1597. Click on picture to magnify.

Yes, this was painted by the bad boy of dark and light, himself, Michelangelo Merisi, known as Caravaggio. His furious life and furious painting career spilled out all over Rome and might have even been fueled by some of the wines from the Roman region.

Featured

Natural America: Audubon and Bodmer, plus Organic Wines.

An American Flamingo from John James Audubon’s Birds of America

That is one impressive bird, and the artist, John James Audubon (born Jean-Jacques Rabin) made it more so by printing it on 30″ x 40″ paper. Even so, the artist had to make a rather strange curve in the neck just above the head so as to get the whole bird into the picture. However, if there is one thing Audubon was true to, it was the accurate representation, life-size, of the birds he drew.

Audubon (1785-1851) portrayed here in a portrait by George Healy in the Museum of Science, Boston, mos.org, went through a number of iterations before being able to pursue his great love of painting birds. Born in Haiti of a French father, he spent his youth in France, coming to the U.S. in 1803. He tried business with some success, married and had two sons, and was relatively prosperous until 1819, when an economic downturn caused him to go bankrupt.

What was a financial disaster for him worked to allow him to pursue his real love – painting birds. In 1819-1820, he deployed his artistic talents doing portraits of prominent citizens in Louisville. With money earned from that skill and the support of his wife, Lucy, he was able to travel down the Mississippi to New Orleans and its Bayou, where with the help of a young assistant, John Mason, who drew the background settings, Audubon captured in watercolor the birds throughout the area.

Great Blue Heron and the Roseate Spoonbill by John James Audubon in Birds of America.

Audubon, while being very precise and scientific in his physical representations of the birds, drew criticism for the often dramatic poses and backgrounds that the birds appear in. The ornithological drawings of the time were normally on a plain background. However, Audubon liked to set the birds in their habitat and have them in poses doing activities which he had observed in real life. Above we get to see the blue heron showing its wings as it searches for a fish in the waters. The roseate duckbill is doing much the same thing, but this time with a more fully developed landscape background. The artistry of his work overall won over his severest American critics, but only after he left America for a stay in England in 1826. There his appearance as a rough hewn American frontiersman (see portrait above) attracted attention and a publisher for the four volume work, Birds of America, consisting of 435 paintings!

That frontiersman approach also worked for him once he returned to America, as that seemed to those from the eastern part of the U.S. to add extra authenticity to his outstanding volumes of drawings. The sets of books were sold by subscription (early print-on-demand publishing?) and some 175-200 sets were sold. His work became a family enterprise, with Lucy writing down his observations, his son, Victor, overseeing the printing, and his son, John, doing some of the drawing. Audubon went west again in 1843 to draw animals for his book Quadrupeds of America. His notes on nature and focus on the majestic landscapes of Yellowstone were forerunners of artists to come shortly after, like Albert Bierstadt and Frederic Church. And of course, in later years, the National Audubon Society was founded in his memory, allowing us to have various nature centers throughout the country in which we can peacefully enjoy the environment and its creatures.

Karl Bodmer: A Naturalist of Another Sort

While Audubon’s seminal works on birds and beasts serve as both artistic and scientific records that have been passed down in history to us, another artist came to the U.S., employed by a German prince who wished to explore the “wilds” of America. The prince was Maximillian of Wied-Neuwied, and the artist was Karl Bodmer (1809-1893). Their trip to America from 1832-1834 in which they traveled into the west using flatboats on the upper Missouri River, resulted in the publication of Travels in the Interiors of North America (1843-44). This work became wonderful documentation of the life and the look of the land and the traditional Native American cultures from that time period.

The Confluence of the Fox and Wabash Rivers by Karl Bodmer.

If we thought that Audubon could be dramatic, Bodmer certainly does not hold back in capturing the wild tangle of trees and dense forestation along the river banks. In a picture that could be foreboding, the few cattle that drink from the river seem to indicate that domestication of this wilderness is happening. Along with that, Bodmer lightens the sky, moving from a pale, soft orange to a light blue, which opens the scene somewhat.

Bodmer is particularly appreciated for his detailed work and accurate representations of the native people that were encountered on this two-year journey. Prince Maximillian in particular wanted to see the native people who were as yet not touched by the western migration of people from the eastern U.S. Bodmer’s skill at capturing the likeness of his subjects is why the prince hired him to come along. Bodmer always asked the native people to wear the clothing that they wished to be represented in and in this way captured many unique forms of dress which now serve as historical cultural records much prized by the Native American population and by the rest of us as well.

Mandan Chief Mato Tope in his war paint and in his ceremonial regalia as seen by Karl Bodmer.

One of the most outstanding characters that Bodmer encountered was the chief of the Mandans, Mato Tope, or Four Bears, known to be the fiercest warrior of his era on the plains of America. Supposedly he would show up for a portrait every day in a different outfit, each designed to show off his brave accomplishments and his glory as a chief. These works by Bodmer are now in the Joslyn Museum in Omaha, Nebraska (see video here on Mato Tope, The Rock Star of the Plains youtube.com).

This dramatic piece by Bodmer shows totems or idols constructed by the Mandan. There is a ghostly quality to this piece almost as if Bodmer sensed the coming destruction of these cultures. Mato-Tope, the great warrior who was undefeated on the battlefield. was felled by smallpox just three years after Bodmer’s portraits of him. That disease went on to devastate the native people of the plains. Bodmer’s work is as close to a living testament as we have.

Modern Times, Modern Themes.

Image created by Cheryl Medow, “The Art of Birds, Revealed Through An Altered Reality” by Becky Harlan nationalgeographic.com See cherylmedow.com for more photos.

The photograph above takes romanticized images of birds in a new direction. While Audubon broke free from the dull poses and stark white backgrounds of the drawings and paintings of birds in his day, Medow applies photography and her skills in composition to capture the birds in action and create a special environment for them. The roseate spoonbills in the photo above are from St. Augustine, Florida. The background, however, is from Hanalei Bay off Kauai in Hawaii. The magic of the juxtaposition of the birds and a completely different environment creates an altered reality that stops viewers in their tracks. The artist was once asked to explain what she does. When she started to reply, someone else in the group told her not to speak just yet because he wanted time to only to enjoy the pictures.

Medow does say of her work that she follows in the tradition of the Hudson Valley School of painting in which the artists went out to sketch scenes en plein air but created their paintings in the studio as composites made up of various parts of the scenery they had sketched. In that way no one can really point to a specific location that matches any of their paintings. Here the birds are put in natural settings that are not their usual ones to create a type of magical reality that maximizes the beauty of both the birds and the settings.

The Cardinal and the Arapahoe, watercolor paintings by Wes Karchut

The artist who did the two paintings above, Wes Karchut, specialized for a while in western painting and as such grew accustomed to representing Native American subjects. The fierce look in the eyes of this Arapahoe man caught Karchut’s attention. He gives the man’s face the contours and colors of a southwestern landscape, while also capturing some of the color and originality of the man’s clothing. The painting of the cardinal is in the fine tradition of Audubon, who so loved to capture the natural gestures of the birds. Here Karchut says he was moved by the proud stance of this bird and that in fact influenced his brush strokes, especially around the crest atop the bird’s head. For more on Karchut’s art see weskarchutart.com and for an article on the artist go to vernellestudio.com

Regardless of the time period, the North American continent has never lacked in diversity and beauty. Thankfully there have been artists who could use their skills and imagination to capture it and draw our attention to what we might not have otherwise fully noticed.

Paintings are either in public domain or live linked to artist websites.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.comor her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Organic Wines, Natural Wines and Biodynamic Viticulture

Some excellent organic wines from “15 Best Organic Wine Brands 2020” delish.com Photo credit to Alyssa Gray.

In the last years with the rising awareness of environmentally sound sustainable agriculture, the subject of organic wines, natural wines, and those produced by biodynamic viniculture techniques has come to the fore. The first thing to handle is how to define what these terms mean. Organic wines are generally described as wines made from organically grown grapes (careful attention given to non-chemical interventions in the growing process) which are often also processed without the addition of sulfites. However, one can also purchase wines with sulfites but made from organically grown grapes. Normally these do not carry the name Organic Wine. The lack of sulfites is the key to the organic label, which is a regulated term. That means certain codified specifications must be met for the wine to call itself organic.

Then we have Natural Wines like those pictured here which are sugar-free. These are wines made of grapes grown with little intervention. The wine is made often using ancient aging techniques, and the color and taste can be quite different from what we normally expect.

The way this type of wine is processed can involve techniques that go back to ancient times. The taste of the wine can be rather on the bitter side like sour beer, and the colors range from pink to orange. These wines appeal to those who want to live a healthier lifestyle as they do not use yeast for fermentation, have few if any sulfites, and are normally made from organically grown grapes. However, since there is such creative variety in how these wines are produced there is no regulation the codifies what is to be considered a Natural Wine.

Lastly we have the term biodynamic which does not really reflect a type of wine, but rather the agricultural process. The focus is on the terroir or the soil and the design process in making the wines. Some of the growing techniques are a bit “mystical” involving wizardry, and the wine might even be aged in antique clay amphora as was done in Roman times. Biodynamically grown grapes may be used in natural wines but can also be found in industrial wines. Delish.com gives a good survey of organic wines in an article linked above under the photos of bottles of organic wine. For a short video with more on these terms, Eric Texier, a winemaker, talks about these categories. youtube.com

Photo from Pexels. naturalmerchants.com

When it comes to foods to match with the organic wines, one can use the normal range of options, with Sauvignon Blanc for fish and seafood dishes, grilled meats with organic Temperanillo or Malbec, and organic rose with anything using mild cheeses. Natural Merchants has quite a list of good things to pair on their website naturalmerchants.com. One of the things to note is that some of the best organic wines come from Australia and Chile. Once again click the link under the first photo for Delish.com.

These days going off to Chile or Australia is a lot more difficult but that need not limit your access to organic wines or others produced there. This is where a good wine club like those offered at Cellars Wine Clubs comes in handy. Not only is there an International Wine Club, but there is also one for Natural and Organic Wines.

The testimonial above is only one of many. Cellars has a variety of wine clubs that address every level of wine expertise and every budget. Free shipping, a “no bad bottle” return policy and the Give Back program that allows 15% of the purchase to be donated to one of a number of vetted charities, make Cellars an excellent choice. Click on the Cellars page on this blog (right hand column).

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming soon: The Paintings of Joaquin Sorolla and the Wines of Valencia.

Las tres velas (The Three Sails) by Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida.

Celebrated as the Spanish Master of Light in a special exhibition in 2019 at the National Gallery in London, the work of Joaquin Sorolla presents another look at Impressionism from the eyes of someone from the sparkling Mediterranean coast of Valencia, Spain.

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Japanese Influences on Western Art and Sake, a Rice Wine.

Japanese Prints in Monet’s home in Giverny

“If you insist on forcing me into an affiliation…then compare me with the old Japanese masters. Their exquisite taste has always delighted me, and I like the suggestive quality of their aesthetic, which evokes a presence by a shadow and the whole by a part.” Claude Monet parkwestgallery.com

Well, there you have it. Monet was an adherent to what the French called “Japonisme,” an interest that began influencing artists in the late 19th century after Japan was opened for trade with the Occident. Monet’s home in Giverny is literally, among other things, a gallery of fine Japanese prints done by some of the most notable of the Japanese printmakers. On the one visit that I have made so far to Giverny, I noted buses of only Japanese tourists. They had come, yes, to admire the wonderful gardens, also inspired by the Japanese aesthetic, but as well to see masterworks done by their famous artists, those old Japanese masters Monet refers to.

Here in this painting from 1876, we have Camille in Costume, a painting Monet did of his wife dressed in a kimono with an assortment of fans all around. Given the smile on Camille’s face and the lovely tilt of her head, posing in this gorgeous gown must have been quite a treat. Monet’s composition makes good use of the flowing cloth of the kimono by fanning it out in a swirl around her feet. The movement of the kimono mimics the curve of the fan she holds in her hand and the whole structure of fan, model, and kimono make a huge S-curve design, a compositional element favored in earlier times by painters like El Greco.

Water Lily Pond – Green Harmonies by Claude Monet, 1899

It has often been said that Monet’s other great gift to the world was his vast garden at Giverny. Actually they are a collection of gardens that range from fruit trees that are split so that their branches run horizontally along wires, to flowers of all kinds, and of course, the famous lily ponds. In the painting above, we see his Japanese bridge that spans a section of a lily pond. In this painting we see not only the bridge, but the beginning of Monet’s quest to decentralize landscape painting by removing certain boundaries that are normally expected. For more on this idea and how it manifests in Monet’s late painting, see this article in the right hand column of this page, “Monet’s Lily Pond and the Last of the Summer Wine.”

Of course Monet was not the only artist of that time period to be influenced by the arrival of these beautiful and quite different works of art from Japan. Cezanne, Degas, Toulouse Lautrec, and even Gauguin, who stopped using lithography and began using woodcut printing techniques, were all influenced. One of the topics that attracted attention was that of bathing women. Edgar Degas (1834-1917) took the theme of the bathing woman for his pastel “The Tub,” in which the angle of the woman’s body, the details of the intimate objects used for her bath, and the way the shelf is flatten as it might be in a Japanese print as opposed to western ideas of perspective and foreshortening, all show the influence of those Japanese prints.

The Tub by Edgar Degas, 1886. D’Orsay Museum, Paris, France. To see this painting side-by-side with a Japanese bathing woman go to “West Meets East: How Japan Inspired a Western Art Movement at
parkwestgallery.com

One of the artists most taken by the arrival of Japanese prints and the artistic aesthetic related to them was Vincent Van Gogh. He did his versions of the famous prints, sometimes even copying the Japanese writing that accompanied the print, though the piece below showing the frame would indicate that Van Gogh was not a great calligrapher. Below we can compare his Flowering Plum Tree (1887) with Hiroshige’s Plum Blossoms. Van Gogh gives the colors a punch with deep reds, pinks, and a solid orange for the frame. The small figures in the background are in yellows and blue, and trees have yellow and white blossoms that move into pink, orange and a deep red. Hiroshige, on the other hand keeps the colors subtle, using calming grays, blues, and a soft pinkish-red. Van Gogh does keep some of the flatness that one sees in Hiroshigi’s print.

Flowering Plum Blossoms by Vincent Van Gogh, 1887 The Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Holland.
Plum Blossoms by Utagawa Hiroshige (1797 – 1858)

However, Van Gogh was to integrate the Japanese idea of a delicate focus on simple items, like a stem of flowers or a branch of blossoms. In particular we see this in Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms (1890), which he painted in honor of the birth of his brother Theo’s first child. There are no experiments with color combinations nor any attempts at calligraphy. Here there is just nature’s delicacy, along with Van Gogh’s incredible ability to focus on detail in order to make these blossoms the perfect heralds of the birth of a new life.

Almond Blossoms by Vincent Van Gogh (1890) The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, Holland.

The influence of Japan continued to be felt into the 20th century with artists like Piet Mondrian using the concept of the single stem of flowers as the basis of many of his own floral paintings. Certain Japanese concepts like wabi-sabi, the finding of unexpected beauty or beauty in imperfection, appeal to the western mind as does Monet’s estimation of how presence is evoked by a shadow or the whole by a part. One contemporary artist who thoroughly appreciates and who can also aptly express those ideas is Jess Preble. Perhaps it comes from her time working as a sushi chef in San Francisco. Perhaps it is her deep appreciation and understanding of how Junichiro Tanizaki explains the subtle in Japanese culture in his wonderful work, In Praise of Shadows. Whether it is one or both of these, she creates pieces that respond to elements of that aesthetic and which provide a counterpoint to much of her other work.

The Other Teacup by Jess Preble. Jess Preble Fine Art at jesspreble.com and in June, 2020 at Kreuser Gallery exhibition, My Name is Nobody abigailkreusergallery.com

Here the name of the piece evokes that idea of the shadow of a presence. The viewer knows without seeing it that there is another, a mate to this cup. That brings the question: What is the quality of this matching cup? Does it match in appearance or is it the polar opposite? Is it the sun to this moon? Just as the moon has its light and dark sides, this cup has mystery. The rough hewn surface, the imperfect symmetry (asymmetry?), and the way it is set off center in the picture indicate its unique character. It is a creation of wabi-sabi, a beautiful imperfection, which appeals in its singularity to the person who holds it. This is a cup for the famed 16th century Japanese tea master, Sen no Rikyu, whose explanation of the beauty of raku pottery is wonderfully presented in the film Rikyu by Hiroshi Teshigahara (1989 imbd.com ) in which the zen master’s thoughts on a teacup express this idea of unique beauty. Preble’s sensitivity to the textured surface of the cup extends to the textured treatment of the background elements, which also move from light to dark. This cup is a creation that might be set aside by some but surely seen by a discerning eye captured by its silent possibilities.

No other way to end this journey into another aesthetic than to return to Monet. In this case it is a koi pond in Seki, Japan that reflects the beauty of his gardens in France. It is the Nemichi Shrine, a Shinto shrine with a pond that looks like a living Monet painting. (For video see youtube.com)

“Monet’s Pond” in Seki City, Japan. Photo from amusingplanet.com

Paintings used in this article are in public domain or used with permission of the artist.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Sake, a Rice Wine or a Misnomer?

Sake with cups. Photo by LovePik. free download.

Of course it is the perfect compliment to a nice Japanese meal, and though subtle, it can pack quite a punch (sake is 16% alcohol on average). But how can that be, you ask, it’s made from rice, isn’t it? Well, here is the main thing wine from grapes and wine from rice have in common: sugar. From grapes the sugar comes from the juice; from rice is comes from converting the starch to sugar. And, of course, they are both then fermented to create the alcohol content. So in that loosest of senses, they are both wines.

However, some say that is as far as this comparison should go. The Sake Times has an article in which it insists: “Let’s Stop Calling Sake “Rice Wine.” It points out that sake is actually just a Japanese word for alcohol, en.sake-times.com. I don’t know how much headway they are going to make with that. However, it is pointed out that “rice wine” is the term used to describe a number of Asian alcoholic drinks made from fermented rice and does nothing to engage the differences in the process of making the various national versions (Chinese, Korean and Japanese) of these rice alcohols or their differences in taste.

Audrey Hepburn has some sake to the seeming amazement of her young son.

We will leave the rice wine or not rice wine wars behind and move on to other important things in sake culture. As in all things Japanese, there is a protocol for how and when to do things. Now I am sure that any of our local Japanese restaurants would be happy to serve us sake with our sushi, and the more of each the better. However, tea or water is normally the drink that accompanies a feast of sushi, itself a special treat rather than a daily meal habit. The sake, made from rice, can blunt the taste of the fish which comes also with rice. Better to have warm sake at the end of the meal when it can settle calmly alone on the taste buds and descend with a mild tingle to create the appropriate after glow of a fine meal.

SAKE GOES INTERNATIONAL

Yes, folks, that’s a pizza, and it is one of four unusual food pairings that Eater.com suggests for a good sake experience. Here they suggest junmai daijingo sake for it is dry with hints of fruit. They also suggest a sparkling sake as the bubbles help cleanse the palate.

Of course, seafood is always a good bet with sake. Oysters, scallops, shrimp are all easy choices. However, cheeses work well as do some chicken and some tomato based pasta dishes (just think of the pizza above). By the way Eater.com goes into some other unusual combinations like barbeque, Thai food, and chocolate(!) with suggestions for which type of sake to choose for each.

Another aspect of sake that yes, has a comparison to grape wine, is that it is a wonderful addition to your cooking. It can be used to enhance flavor just like grape wines can; however, it can also cut the “fishy” taste of some fish dishes as well as add healthy antioxidants to you diet. Cooking sake is a special blend of sake made expressly for cooking and it is normally rather inexpensive.

Common Cooking Sakes Photo credit to Japanese Pantry justonecookbook.com

Lastly sake is a traditional New Year’s gift. One form is toso, sake infused with medicinal herbs to help one fight off winter’s illnesses like the common cold or to help with upset stomachs. One thing nice to do is to follow the custom of opening a bottle to toast the new year and perhaps write a haiku. Here is one from Yosa Buson (1716 – 1783):

The old calendar

fills me with gratitude

like a song.

So remember that sake is a noble drink with a long tradition. The more you learn about it, the more you’ll be tempted to try it. For myself, that sparkling sake sounds really good. I shall give it a try.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: Natural America: Audubon and Bodmer, plus Organic Wines.

An American Flamingo by Jean Jacques Audubon and White Castles on the Missouri by Karl Bodmer

Sometimes capturing the essence of a place is done in amazing ways by those who come from other places. The work of Jean Jacques Audubon and that of Karl Bodmer provide unique visions of what these men from other lands found in America. Nature’s influence is also being felt in the wine making industry as organic wines are becoming the rage.

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Uccello, The Battle of San Romano, and Brunello, Another Tuscan Red.

One panel of a triptych on the Battle of San Romano by Paulo Uccello, 1438-1440. National Gallery, London.

War broke out in 1432 between two rival Italian city-states. Yes, it was Florence versus Siena, once again. It seems they were fighting over trade routes through Pisa. Now when I tell you that these paintings (yes, there are three panels) commemorating the battle were commissioned by Leonardo Bartolini-Salimbeni of Florence, you will guess which side won the battle. Florence, right! The other battle that was going on in Florence at that time was the rendering of perspective. Yes, we take it for granted that we somewhere in junior high art class learn to use our rulers to do one-point perspective. However, in the early 15th century, this was a big issue. Even a book was published in 1435 called De Pictura by Leon Battista Alberti, in which Alberti explained mathematically how to do perspective. The artist who did the paintings of The Battle of San Romano, Paolo di Dono, known better to us as Paolo Uccello (1397-1475), supposedly stayed up nights, losing sleep over trying to perfect this concept in his painting.

When we look at the painting above, we see an image that relates to the confusion of events that can happen on a battlefield. The man in the red headdress is Niccolo da Tolentino, a type of general known as a condottiere, who was basically the leader of a private mercenary army. He is bravely leading a charge so sure of winning that he is not wearing a helmet (note that his young blond page is not wearing one either). Admittedly, some art historians say since the painting was commissioned a few years after the battle, the red hat was just a way of celebrating Tolentino’s victory. The action seems to all happen across the front of the panel with very little depth, as though it were set on a stage. The immediate background is rather flat and full of soldiers and shrubs, which bear oranges and roses, a lovely decorative touch. In the far distance, the upper part of the panel, we see soldiers riding away and others who are archers with their large white crossbows. It is said that this part of the battle happened in the morning hence the lightness of the upper panel; however, there is no indication of the shadows that these men and horses would have cast. Instead the action, while furious, is rendered in a somewhat flat way. But this is the Renaissance, so why does this painting not look like what you see in Michelangelo or Leonardo’s work? Well, that is where the other battle was going on in this painting.

Uccello, called so because he loved painting birds (uccelli), was one of the last of the late Gothic painters who was transitioning to the Renaissance. Thus we can see in this painting the struggles that kept him up at night. The late Gothic was a period in which the decorative was very important. The flat stylized appearance of the objects was not as important as the beauty of the decorative appeal of the objects, which were sometimes covered in precious metals or in paints made from crushed stone like lapis lazuli. The coming of perspective required a more realistic approach as opposed to just being a decorative hanging. In the painting above, these two elements, decoration versus perspective reality, fight it out just like the combatants in the image of this famous battle. As the warriors parade across the front of the panel, their fallen comrades and their lances lie on the ground pointing into the painting to suggest a vanishing point just beyond the battlefield.

The Middle Panel of the Battle of San Romano by Paolo Uccello, 1438-1440. Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

In this the middle panel of the three, we see once again the action taking place across the front of the panel. There are no horses in this panel with golden decorations on their livery though we do see a few gleaming oranges. However, just behind the scene of the unseating of the opposition’s condottiere, Bernardino della Carda, what appear to be soldiers in gray armor were originally in armor covered in silver to approximate the gleam of the real thing. The way the horses prance, rear, and kick or lie fallen on the battlefield tell the story of a fierce battle but in an almost purely decorative way, like the flat rendering found in a tapestry. The main emphasis here is on the decorative aspect as would have been seen in Gothic miniatures.

The third panel of the Battle of San Romano by Paolo Uccello, 1438-1440. Louvre Museum in Paris.

Here we have the other Sienese general for hire, Michelotto da Cotignola, also wearing a more ceremonial headdress, known as a mazzocchio, as he leads his men into a charge. Once again we see the horses wearing golden ornaments and the original armor in silver, now tarnished or missing, would have made this painting bright and dazzling. However, Uccello’s struggle with perspective continues here as we have the action across the front of the panel with a rather dark solid background, almost like a curtain on a stage. None of this means that it or the other two are not beautiful paintings, but they just do not show the depth of field that was beginning to become the hallmark of Florentine painting as it explored and developed the idea of perspective.

Photo of original drawing of a mazzocchio, showing all the angles necessary to create its rounded form by Paolo Uccello, 15th century, probably at the time of the paintings of the Battle of San Romano.

Working with dimension in this way was Uccello’s obsession. To produce this drawing, he mathematically calculated the angles of the different parts of this headdress. While he captured the fury of the battle and even got the mazzocchio to look correct, he remained well within the traditions of the painting of the previous era, with lots of decorative elements, gold, silver, precious colors, and a design that befits an earlier period.

Uccello did a number of things in his life as an artist, some of them in Venice where he did mosaics (now lost) for San Marco Basilica, and in Florence, the beautiful paintings in the courtyard of Santa Maria della Novella, but mastering perspective was his focus always. Here is his self-portrait on a panel bearing the faces of other great Italian painters (1450)in which he positioned himself between Giotto and Donatello.

We see a face rendered as it would have been done in the early Renaissance in the time of Massacio (1400-1428) when the realistic was returning to European art. Yet it does not have the look that we associate with Leonardo, Raphael, or Michelangelo. Uccello was a painter in a transitional period, along with Fra Angelico, whose work is highly decorative and also reminiscent of those illuminated manuscripts. However, Uccello continued with his quest for perspective, leaving us with one of his last paintings, The Hunt in the Night Forest (c. 1470)

The Hunt or The Hunt in the Night Forest by Uccello, c. 1470.

Here we see some of the familiar aspects of Uccello’s painting with lots of action at the front of the panel. The trees are done in decorative format, each perfectly shaped with little variation to create a lush canopy over the darkened land into which the animals run. However, at this point we clearly get the idea of depth in that forest. It is not just another area as backdrop in the upper end of the panel, like the fields in Panel 1 of The Battle of San Romano, nor is it just a dark backdrop as in Panel 3 of The Battle of San Romano. Here every line we can draw from any of the creatures, man or beast, that appear in this painting will go to one point somewhere deep in that forest. Ultimately if all this crowd of characters runs from the light in the front of the panel toward where the animals are, they will all disappear from view in the forest of the night where they meet the vanishing point.

However, we must not think of The Battle of San Romano paintings as lessened in importance because of their transitional nature. In fact, Lorenzo de Medici (yes, Lorenzo, the Magnificent, himself) actually used force to take the three paintings from the Bartolini-Salimbeni to bring them to the Medici Palazzo. So the paintings themselves seem to have been fought over. On a completely speculative note, I wonder if the Bartolini (of Florence) had those paintings commissioned to prove just how fiercely proud (and loyal) they were as Florentines, even though the Salimbeni part of their name comes from a well known important family in Siena. Everything was political in Florence, so art history’s mysteries abound.

Painting by Uccello and the drawing of the mazzocchio are in public domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

Brunello, Another Tuscan Red.

A glass of Brunello and the Sangiovese Grosso grapes from finedininglovers.com

We know of the rivalry in the Middle Ages between Florence and Siena. In fact in Of Art and Wine’s discussion of Chianti (see “The Hand as a Work of Art, and Chianti, a Tuscan Red.”), the story of the gallo nero or black rooster label was told, in which Florence was able to claim most of the land between Florence and Siena because its rider covered more territory than the Sienese rider. However, Siena has not suffered unduly. Yes, the area known as Chianti went to Florence and produces the various types of Chianti well known throughout the world. However, the greatest wine of Tuscany grows at altitudes of up to 600 meters (around 1900 feet) near the town of Montalcino. It is called Brunello or “little dark one” and comes often with the place name, Brunello di Montalcino.

Now, what is it that makes Brunello so special? Well, a number of things. It has a DOCG appellation, meaning that how it is made and what it is made from are strictly controlled. The grapes are a type of Sangiovese, a clone known as Sangiovese Grosso, and the wine is made 100% from these grapes. The grapes cannot be grown at an altitude higher than 600 meters as the soil in the area, a mixture of clay and dark rock which contains lots of minerals, is considered a major element in the taste of the wine. That taste is described as fruity, ripe and tart like sour cherries combined with savory herbs and iron. The wine must be aged for four years, with at least two in oak barrels, and stored for at least four months before being allowed onto the market. Two versions of the aging process exist. One uses French oak barrels which produce a concentrated, rich, toasty flavor, while the second version uses traditional large old oak barrels that produce a less fruity more earthy flavor.

The word most commonly used to describe Brunello is “elegant.” Of course it has a price to match, with $50 being a good starting price. However, all hope is not lost. The wine-making rules of the region require that 30% of those Sangiovese Grosso grapes be declassified and allowed to mature for less time, producing a Rosso di Montalcino. It has no barrel-aging requirement and only has to be one year old before being released to the market. It has more body than Chianti and less tannin, and here is the good part. You can get this one for about $20.

And now for the food!

Blueberry tartelette, with vanilla custard. Photo credit, Copy Share.

Yes, Brunello goes very well with solid desserts like the blueberry and vanilla custard tartelette above. According to Roberta Schira in her article, “Brunello di Montalcino’s Pairings: Do’s and Dont’s,” there are a range of items from wild game, to hard cheeses, to rich desserts like the one above that all go well with Brunello di Montalcino. She warns, though, against grilled meats, pizza, fish, and piquant foods, and she explains why for each. So I shall turn you over to her so that you can soak up her wisdom finedininglovers.com

As our Tuscan adventure into the past lives of Florence and Siena draws to a close, there is a way to enjoy international travel through wine. Join a wine club like Cellars Wine Club. Cellars has an International Wine Club along with free shipping, and a “no bad bottle” return policy. Click here to go directly to the International Wine Club cellarswineclub.com or go to Of Art and Wine Pages on the right and click to see all of the different wine clubs offered.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: Japanese Influences on Western Art and Sake, a Rice Wine.

The Other Teacup by Jess Preble, currently showing other works in “My Name is Nobody” June 2020, at Kreuser Gallery, Colorado Springs, CO.

Japanese wood block prints had a remarkable influence on the painting of the French Impressionists like Claude Monet and Post-Impressionists like Vincent Van Gogh. That influence continues into our era, inspiring painters to look with new eyes at a Japanese aesthetic that praises shadows and finds beauty in imperfection. The Japanese also produce a very fine drink, a wine made of rice. Yes, saké.

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The Hand as a Work of Art and Chianti, a Tuscan Red.

Detail of the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci, c. 1503.

Out of scholarly duty I put in the name of the painting and the name of the artist above, but we all know those hands. They belong to the Mona Lisa, also known as La Gioconda, after the family name of the rich merchant who had Leonardo paint a picture of his wife, Lisa. Since Leonardo never delivered the painting or at least not this painting, but kept it with him until his death in 1519 in France, we don’t know which parts of this might have been the merchant’s wife and which were from Leonardo’s many sketches of people’s features, including hands. Needless to say that the speculation on the origins and even the meaning of this portrait runs a wide spectrum from having her be the image of an ideal mother (done for a member of the Medici family whose illegitimate son’s mother had died in childbirth) to perhaps a type of self-portrait to show Leonardo’s feminine side (see youtube.com). Whatever the actual history, these hands painted by Leonardo are a work of art in and of themselves.

When standing close up to the painting (yes, in previous years one could go right up to the painting without any barriers, and if it was a visit on a weekday evening, there might not be anyone else standing there!), the hands are so full in dimension and so life-like that they seem to give off warmth. You really feel that if you could touch them, somehow they would feel alive. They rest calmly in her lap, one folded over the other, the fingers of the right hand partly separated, and the skin tones warmly colored, all of which may indeed remind many of their mother or grandmother’s hands. That stroke of universality may be part of the magic that makes the painting great. A well-studied knowledge, shown in this painting by the use of shadows and soft edges coupled with a keen understanding of the structure of the human hand, underlies the ability to create such a life-like rendering. The refinement and beauty of these soft, calm hands make us marvel at them even today.

Michelangelo’s David, close up of hand holding a rock. 1501-1504.

Michelangelo was no slouch when it came to representing the hand (or anything else). In the close-ups above from his statue of David, we see the young underdog. (Underdog? A statue over 17 feet! But just imagine Goliath.) He hides a secret weapon, a common rock, but one he knows how to put to good use. In marble, Michelangelo captures the tension of the moment by showing the veins in the hand standing out. One can almost feel the blood pulsing through, as David surely knew he would have but one chance to bring down his gigantic foe. The side view of the hand with the thumb facing forward is cocked rather casually at his side, the rock well hidden, a ruse to tell Goliath there was nothing to see there. The hands on that statue are out of proportion in terms of their size, but those large hands indicate prowess and strength. In fact, the whole purpose of the statue, which originally stood in front of the Palazzo Vecchio, Florence’s city hall, was as a symbol to all who visited Florence that the city’s energetic and shrewd youthfulness would see it through travails that might overpower others. Florentines were strong, young, capable, and crafty – Beware!

But what about the hand in more modern painting and sculpting? Has its beauty or its subtleties been lost in all our rush to the abstract? Well, just take a look at this wonderful Edward Hopper piece, New York Interior ( 1921)

New York Interior by Edward Hopper, 1921. Whitney Museum of Modern Art.

In this detail of the painting above, we see no thread, yet we can tell by the position of the fingers and the tension in the muscles of the hand and arm that the lady is pulling a thread through the cloth that lies on her lap, perhaps a lovely dress she intends to wear or even the hem of the one she has on. The hollow in her back along the spine is caused by that raised arm and its pulling motion. Writing in an article in the Washington Post, Sebastian Smee calls that hand “electrifying,” going on to say, “there is just enough detail for us to feel securely tethered to the real. The rest has been ruthlessly extracted.” www.washingtonpost.com

Break Up by Andrew Wyeth, 1994.

Andrew Wyeth’s painting of the bronze cast of his hands sitting on the jagged piece of ice being broken up by the swift current of a river is a statement by the artist of the role of those hands in the creation of his works. In fact, he said, “I wish I could paint without me existing – that just my hands were there” (see article on www.bonhams.com). The hands floating away in the ice floe, riding along on something that would one day melt away, indicates a type of dangerous liaison with his art and with nature itself. Wyeth seemingly preferred to be disconnected from his subjects as that allowed his mind to be free to create. Wyeth’s hands seem to be reaching for something, as though they really could work even if disconnected from the rest of him. They are a type of self-portrait in which the hands were so much more important than the face as a lasting symbol of his identity.

Now, we end with the beginning, all those thousands of years ago when the woolly mammoths roamed, and when humans did rituals in caves to reaffirm their existence and their hopes for survival, largely based on how well they could use those wonderful hands. The human hand is a marvel of design and to fully understand it just think of what other creatures on the planet could do if they had our flexible five digits, including that distinctively useful thumb. The prehistoric painters who left their mark in this cacophony of handprints showed their acknowledgement of the value of the human hand. These prints and others found in the caves of our ancestors wherever they appear in the world show us that the human hand has always been a worthy subject for art.

Prehistoric Handprints from Altamira, Spain.


Art works discussed are either in public domain or used in accordance with Fair Use Policy for purposes of discussion, review, and critique.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

A real Tuscan Red – Meet Chianti.

Chianti in its familar basket, ready to be hung. www.vinepair.com

Tuscany, home of both Leonardo and Michelangelo, is a premier wine growing region. One of its most famous and popular wines is Chianti. Known for its casing in a straw basket, it has a lot more to offer than just a good wine to have with a slice of pepperoni. According to the Vinepair.com aticle (click above), it is actually hard to find Chianti in straw baskets any more, so I suggest that any Italian restaurants that have a few, keep them as collector’s items. Despite the change in format, Chianti remains one of America’s most popular red wines, and for good reason, as it comes in at least three different forms: Chianti, Chianti Classico, Chianti Riserva, and two sub-types, Colli Senesi and Colli Fiorentini, each of these representing slightly different growing areas and altitudes within the Chianti Region. And yes, Chianti, the wine, bears the name of the region that lies between Florence and Siena, a fertile 100 mile stretch that was often contested between the two rival cities (more on that later).

The wine itself is made from Sangiovese grapes. The name literally means “Blood of Jove” (Jove being another name for Jupiter, the king of the Roman gods). The deep purple grapes produce a rich red wine with the taste of berries, and spices with herbal tones. The lightness and high acidity in Chianti makes it work well with just about any food, but especially well with pizza.

Pizza, the perfect food pairing for Chianti

Chianti Classico and the Chianti Riserva, an aged version of the wine with softer tannins and more spice, but the same fruity, cherry flavors, up the wine’s game quite a bit. These must be made 80% from Sangiovese grapes grown in the region which has an DOCG appellation. The region in fact first got its appellation status in the early 1700s, granted by Cosimo III, Duke of Tuscany. It is hard to get a more authoritative stamp of approval than that. The wine can have a mixture of other red grapes for the remaining 20%. Normally that means an addition of Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon. This blending of reds makes Chianti an Italian rival to Bordeaux. Chianti Classico and Chianti Riserva both pair well with hard cheeses and heavy pasta dishes. One great item to pair with Chianti Classico is the famous grilled steak dish known as bisteccca alla fiorentina. It is an extra thick porterhouse steak, seasoned with simple ingredients and grilled to perfection. Chef Michael Chiarello walks you through the recipe here: www.foodnetwork.com.

Chianit Wine Growing Region, Italy.

As previously mentioned this region has been producing fine wine for centuries. Along with the official acknowledgement from Duke Cosimo III and its current DOCG appellation, Chianti Classico has another mark that brands it as authentic – a black rooster or Gallo Nero.

This mark of distinction goes back beyond Duke Cosimo’s appellation in 1716. The black rooster story dates from the late 1300s and deals with which of two medieval city-states would rule the Chianti valley. Since the valley lies between Siena and Florence, securing it involved ages-old rivalry.

Though they sometimes fought actual armed battles, the two rival cities decided to settle this one more peacefully by having riders get up at dawn on a specific day and start out in the direction of the opposite city, riding through the fields of Chianti. Wherever they would meet, all the land from that point back to their respective cities would belong to that city. The key thing was to be up early on that day. To accomplish this each town decided to have a special rooster be the one to wake up the rider, so he could be on his way early. The Sienese, lovely, elegant, fanciful people, at least as shown in many of their paintings of the time, chose a white rooster which they fed very well. The idea was that he would wake up early to get more food. The Florentines, also elegant in their art but with a strict hard edge about drawing that led to the development of perspective in painting, had a black rooster which they keep on a minimal diet. The idea was that the hungry bird would be crying out for at least some crumbs of food and thus wake the rider very early. Well, they were right. The Florentine rider was out first and by the time he met up with the Sienese rider, that rider had only gone 12 kilometers (about 8.5 miles) outside of Siena. Thus Florence gained hegemony over Chianti and because their rooster was black, that image is found at the top of every bottle of Chianti Classico.

So now you have your basics in Chianti, but before we leave, you must hear the Chianti Song, sung by a trio of rich voices, in an Italian setting, and accompanied by Andre Rieu. If this doesn’t make you feel like throwing a Festa Italia with a nice bottle of Chianti, I don’t know what will. youtube.com

See the Cellars Wine Club page in the right hand column under Pages

If you are in the mood to explore the world through wine and be able to feel extra good about it, try joining one of the wine clubs at Cellars Wine Club. There is a club for every budget, a wide selection of wines, free shipping, and a “no bad bottle” return policy. As well, you can arrange to have 15% of your purchase donated to one of a number of vetted charities through the Give Back Program. Just click here ofartandwine.com.

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and  CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon: Uccello, The Battle of San Romano, and Brunello, another Tuscan Red.

One part of the triptych of the Battle of San Romano by Paolo Uccello. Now in the Louvre, Paris, France.

The rivalry between Florence and Siena is legendary, from fields for growing wine to who might control another city’s trade (in the case of the painting above Pisa), these two city-states fought over everything. This battle took place in 1432 and was won decisively by Florence, yet the struggles did not end there. A triptych of the battle was commissioned around 1435 by the Bartolini-Salimbeni family. Yet somehow it wound up years later in the possession of Lorenzo de Medici, and he didn’t buy it. Come find out about this wonderful set of paintings and another Tuscan wine, Brunello.

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Watercolorists: Turner, Girtin, Bonington, and a Wine Called Chablis.

The White House at Chelsea, by Thomas Girtin, 1800.

J.M.W. Turner famously said of his friend and fellow artist, Thomas Girtin, that had Girtin survived, he (Turner) would have starved. Such was the high esteem in which Turner held his young friend’s work. Girtin, however, died at the age of 27 in 1802 but not before having been credited with inspiring Romantic watercolor painting. In the painting above, his deft touch of the brush manages to create light airy clouds and smooth shimmering sea waters along with the solidity of that strip of land. Though the buildings are indistinct, one can see a windmill, and a tower or two. However, the main point of distinction is what appears to be a house so white that it leaves a long strip of bright white reflected in the waters. The painting is light and so delicate that it seems as though the colors were put upon the paper in a single breath. Yes, as though the artist drew a breath of air and exhaled this painting with it onto the surface of the paper.

This portrait of Thomas Girtin done by John Opie in 1800 shows the young artist emerging from the shadows, head turned to present only the left side of his face, a paint brush in hand, and a stark white cravat to contrast with the skin tones of his face. His dark hair and clothing fade-to-black into the background, making him both mysterious and romantic, which is quite appropriate for a man who is credited with making watercolor be taken seriously.

Being taken seriously has often been a problem for watercolors. Often seen only as a medium for Sunday dabblers or “for women only” as was the commonly thought in the 18th and 19th centuries, it often has shown up in history only as a way to color in something more important, like a map or an architectural drawing. Yet, just recently a watercolor set a world record purchase price of 10 million British pounds or roughly $12,271,000.00. That painting is The Dark Rigi (1841) by Girtin’s great friend and great rival, J.M.W. Turner ( www.gov.uk).

The Dark Rigi by J.M.W. Turner, 1841

Turner and Girtin were friends in their teens and twenties. They came to know each other as teenagers when they worked coloring in topographical prints with watercolors. The two were known to go out plein air painting sometimes with the express purpose of “skying,” or making paintings of the sky. As young men, it was Girtin who captured the most attention; however, since Turner lived much longer, his skills were able to develop into those that produced the masterpiece shown above. In it Turner pays homage to the friend of his youth with that little line of white in the far left that leaves a long reflection in the water. Turner’s paintings often have a spot of white as a remembrance of Girtin and as a reference to The White House at Chelsea.

The Dark Rigi is one of a set of paintings (there are red and blue versions of the iconic mountain) that Turner painted on a visit to Switzerland’s Lake Lucerne. In it we see how rich and varied the color combinations are. This is very much like the look of his oil paintings which often have tempestuous skies. In fact it has been hypothesized that Turner used watercolor techniques in his oil paintings (perhaps glazes to create the effects of light) and oil painting techniques in his watercolors (look at the overlay of white gouache used to form the clouds and morning mist). One thing for sure, he was no purist. He used what he needed to express what he wanted to say about the scene he was painting. There is some question about whether he always prepared his own paints or whether he used the then new pan colors that came pre-mixed. He certainly was in the forefront of the movement that began taking watercolors seriously which coincided with the production of those manufactured pan watercolors.

Close up from Turner Self Portrait done in 1799.

Britain developed quite a reputation for producing great watercolorists, another one of whom was Richard Parkes Bonington. With Bonington there is a bit of a twist to the story, as he lived most of his life in France though he was born of British parents. That fact allowed his work to be included in the 2009 exhibition, Corot to Monet, French Landscape Painting, held at the National Gallery in London. Bonington’s life like that of Thomas Girtin was short (1802-1828). However, at the time of his death, he was one of the most influential English artists, especially since he was also counted as a French artist who brought English influences into French Romantic painting.

At the English Coast by Richard Parkes Bonington, 1825

Bonington, pictured here in a portrait by Margaret Sarah Carpenter, actually learned his watercolor techniques from studying the works of Thomas Girtin. Perhaps a trace of that training can be seen in the nuances in the handling of the sky in the painting above. His creation of the choppy seas shows skillful usage of tonal variations and the contrast between dark and light to create depth.

Eugene Delacroix (1798 – 1863) first met Bonington in 1817 in Paris, though in 1825 they were known to go plein air painting and even shared a studio for a time. Of Bonington, Delacroix said in a letter, “…no one in this modern school, and perhaps even before, has possessed the lightness of touch, which, especially in watercolors, makes his work a type of diamond that flatters and ravishes the eye…” See the full quote here: www.en.wikipedia.org

So with those wonderful words of compliment from Delacroix, we all must take a look at watercolor with a new vision and one that does not make it play second fiddle to oils. No, painting in watercolor is a world in and of itself and not just for “coloring.”

All works of art used in this art history discussion are in Public Domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com.

Chablis is not Chardonnay’s less pretty step-sister.

The towers at the entrance to the town of Chablis, France.

Just look at this beautiful picture. Would anyone doubt that there would be fine wine found here? Well, of course, there is good wine here, and it bears the name of this lovely town. However, there is something about Chablis that relates to the title above. It is a wine whose Appellation d’origine controlée requires it to be made only from Chardonnay grapes. So what is the difference between Chablis and its more honored relative Chardonnay? Well, it all has to do with climate and soil. Chablis is produced in northern Burgundy with the best vineyards being on the southwestern slope of hills just north of the town of Chablis. The cooler climate there influences the taste of the grapes that go into the wine and makes them distinct from Chardonnay grapes grown further south in a milder climate. As well, the “terrain” that the grapes grow in is made of clay and chalk, yes, chalk like what the sea cliffs in Normandy and Dover are made out of. This combination produces a dry wine with a flinty or even steely note.

Sometimes Chablis has been called the purest Chardonnay since it is generally made only from Chardonnay grapes. Yet there is a bit of a hangover from the 1980s jug-style Chablis that left people thinking of Chablis as some kind of country cousin to Chardonnay. In fact, Chablis has several distinctive qualities that set it apart. It lends toward dryness rather than to the fruitiness of Chardonnay. It is normally unoaked as it is produced in steel containers, which gives it a light taste that goes well with light fair that is not extremely rich; grilled shrimp is a good example. The good stuff also really has to come from Chablis in France, rather like Champagne comes from the eponymous region there. To get an idea of what goes into creating it, look at this information from Domaine Laroche.

Domaine Laroche is one of France’s premier producers of Chablis and as is common with many of the most celebrated wine producers there is a connection with a religious order. The abbots of Saint Martin started making wine in Chablis in the walls of a monastery called L’Obédiencerie in 867, starting the long tradition of producing Chablis and fine Chardonnay. Since the French Revolution, it has been a private property, but its fine wine making traditions continue. larochewines.com

Four appellations of Chablis exist. The Petit Chablis is very light, good to use as an apéritif or to take on a picnic. It should be served cold, around 45 degrees F. Chablis, which is the most commonly accessible appellation, is very versatile but especially good with seafood like oysters, and with goat cheeses or even with a salad and chicken pot pie. Chablis Premier Cru is fuller bodied but still light compared to a rich oaked Chardonnay. Again it is an excellent choice for seafood, oysters and/or oyster stew, scallops or chicken sautéed in white wine – of course, you would choose Chablis. Both Chablis and Chablis Premier Cru need a bit of a chill, around 50 degrees F. Finally there is Chablis Grand Cru. This is for when you go all out on expense and have it (pricey) with lobster, foie gras, or dishes with rich creamy sauces. This one can be served a bit warmer than the others at 57 degrees F.

Oysters on the half shell, perfect for a chilled, crisp Chablis

So when looking for a really pure experience of the Chardonnay grape, the best bet is to get a good Chablis.

Now in these times of limited travel, it might just be a good time to get your wine-tasting experiences through a wine club. Here I invite you to look at Cellars Wine Club, which has a plan for every budget, free shipping, and a “no bad bottle” return policy. You can take a look here by clicking on the Cellars Wine Club page in the right column or go directly CellarsWineclub.com

Of Art and Wine affiliates with Bluehost.com and   CellarsWineClub.com and may earn from qualifying purchases.

©marjorie vernelle 2020

Coming Soon on Of Art and Wine: The Hand as a Work of Art and Chianti.

Close up of hands on Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa (c. 1503)

Hands as we know are very important in everyday life, and that means in paintings, too. From the first print of a cave man’s hand left on the cave wall he had painted with wild animals, right down to contemporary versions of the hand, the human hand as seen in art is a rich subject to explore. And what goes better with a Tuscan painter like Leonardo than an exploration of Chianti, Tuscany’s very own red wine.