Art and Eye

  Depicting an enthroned Virgin and Child in the central panel, flanked by St John on the left with an elongated scroll and the prophet Zacharias on the right, this ivory is richly carved and extensively detailed. The top panel furthers the Christological narrative, bearing two flying angels and a typically Byzantine rendering of Christ encircled, beardless and blessing to convey his position as the judge of humanity, or Pantocractor. It was a common image above doorways to churches and chapels, signifying the crossing of the boundary into the divine realm. As this particular ivory appeared on the front of a book, the image would hold a similar purpose in the traversing of boundaries, as the volume was opened and closed, concealing and revealing material within. The bottom layer of the ivory, meanwhile, shows the Nativity and Annunciation to the Shepherds. It allows the artist to extend the narrative and show off their skill, illustrating architecture, angels and animals alongside ...

  Christopher Wool's Minor Mishap is a huge, abstract work (274.3 x 182.9cm) made up of only two colours, yet it joins a long lineage of Abstract Expressionist producers, which harks all the way back to 1950s New York. Wool's recent, impressive performance on the art market further proves that this movement has not really waned in popularity with collectors, and continues to be a source of artistic inspiration globally.  The messiness, harshness and perhaps even violence of Wool's work may reference de Kooning, whilst the simplicity yet vibrancy of colours recalls Rothko's abstract canvases - admittedly, however, Rothko's linearity is most definitely abandoned by Wool. The artist's ink application, meanwhile, can be connected to the art of splash painting, perfected by Pollock and to a lesser extent, Krasner. However, this twenty-first century work is not a complete copy of that style, for Wool is working with silkscreen on linen, where the ink seeps into the fa...

Backbreaking labour is depicted in Millet's Man with a Hoe, the last of his most controversial peasant paintings which have subsequently been labelled as 'socialist' by a variety of writers. It sits among The Sower, which Robert Hughes referred to as 'the Mona Lisa of socialism', alongside The Gleaners and The Angelus all by the same artist, and some of which will be making an appearance at the upcoming National Gallery exhibition in London. At first glance, this sizeable canvas appears relatively simple in composition - an isolated figure against an earthy palette and limited grey sky, pushed to the very limits of human effort, whilst others labour in the background, secondary to the torturous scene in front of the viewer. Meanings range from political commentary, referencing the age of mass production in the mid nineteenth century, the growth of modern farming techniques and negation of the rural worker, to symbolic suggestions of the Man as a hero for the working...

It is the continued irony of stained glass that despite its public nature in churches around the world, it is still an art form that is neglected in exhibitions and critical scholarship. It is not art available to the public eye. Admittedly, displaying stained glass comes with its difficulties - works are created for their chosen spiritual or secular spaces, and they are not designed to be moved, whilst accompanying archival material is not always abundant. However, there is little excuse to be made for such a lack of scholarship on stained glass, from any exploration of larger London firms such as Lowndes and Drury, to decentralised narratives of art history which detail the schools around Birmingham or Manchester, to include specific artists. One such practitioner was A.J. Davies, whose window in Claverly Church, Shropshire, is an intriguing example of his later style.  Davies' window is complex, yet three main layers can be identified. The perspective is stacked, recalling many ...

  Two grasping, weathered men face the viewer, crammed into the space and pressing into the sides of the canvas in this uncomfortably close arrangement. This was a subject both Marinus van Reymerswale and his workshop repeatedly returned to during the mid sixteenth century. Detail is minute, precision is exact and realism is intense, as van Reymerswale offers us a successful comment on avarice, greed and materialism in his hometown.  Conservation by the National Gallery has revealed this painting to be a copy of a version now in the Louvre, identifiable through changes in the underpainting. A similar work, entitled The Moneychanger and his Wife sits in the Museo del Prado in Madrid. In the work from the National Gallery, van Reymerswale reuses figural types, costume and setting to illustrate two figures: the grasping tax collector on the right who sneers out towards the viewer, and the concentrating figure on the left, writing an account of the income of the town of Reymerswal...

  Standing eight feet tall, this anonymous, bronze character surveys the cliffs in Tintagel Island. Its name, Gallos, translates to 'power', yet visitors have rewritten the sculpture's history, even in its short lifetime, to associate the figure with the legend of King Arthur. With crown and prominent sword supporting an ephemeral weight, this is a figure who could certainly reference the tale of the sword in the stone, which only the rightful King of Britain could release. The figure's two bulky hands cross over the sword's pommel, furthering his claim over the weapon. In fact, this is a relatively stable part of the work, along with the cloaked face which is fully cast in bronze and contrasts the gaps and holes defining the sculpture more broadly. Crown and sword become the most prominent features, returning to the idea of power as the figure peruses the landscape and Atlantic Ocean beyond.  Bronze casting was a technique perfected since the Renaissance and came t...