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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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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.

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.

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.

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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.