Skip to main content

Grunewald, 'The Crucifixion' from the Isenheim Altarpiece, c.1516



The Crucifixion by Matthias Grunewald ~ Bread for Beggars 

My eye is instantly drawn to the agonised suffering displayed on Christ's body. As he is shown in the centre of the painting, it is hard to tear your eyes away from the emaciated body and try to take in the other figures around him. The way Grunewald has painted Jesus' hands is particularly striking; the way in which they grasp upwards to the heavens, straining as they take the weight of the body. 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' Perhaps Jesus has just spoken these lines in a last effort to end the pain, and with no answer, hope has been lost, signalled by the sudden droop of his head. Even his fingers look thin, adding to the feeling that he has been on the cross for what seems like an eternity. We want to rush into the canvas and free Jesus of this burden. 

Grunewald's depiction of the human body is striking. We can see the straining tendons of muscle at Christ's exposed armpit. His mouth is sightly parted, perhaps suggesting that his last breath has just escaped his lips, hence Mary's utter despair to the far left of the painting. Or perhaps Jesus is struggling for that last breath, which links to the way his stomach is sucked in, highlighting the pain of simply breathing. The way his legs are turned in and knees knocking together shows the limpness he feels inside. And finally his feet are really what catch my eye, or rather his right foot on top. It almost looks broken at the ankle because of the unnatural position Grunewald has painted. It looks as though it has been forced into that position to be nailed. If you look closely, you can even see the straining of the ligaments on the ankle, amplifying the agony. Grunewald has painted the truth here, and has not used art to cover up any of the finer details. 

Grunewald uses a dark background to really make the crucifixion pop out and then emphasises this with his use of colour. Christ looks deathly, his skin tinged with greens and yellows. Moreover, these colours suggests dirt ingrained into his skin, which is emphasised by the dark, chiaroscuro shadows on his body. From his crown of thorns, there are clear punctures in the skin and the sea of sickly yellow is only interrupted by flecks of blood, red and freshly dripping down the contours of his body. As we look at this painting, whether religious or not, our faces mirror those of the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene, pleading to anyone at all to make it stop. Even though we know how this story ends, we still want to interfere and save Christ from this suffering. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cellini, 'Perseus with the Head of Medusa', 1545-1554

  My eye is immediately drawn to the head of Medusa. At first glance it looks gruesome, as though Cellini has captured the moment just after the head has been decapitated, and it oozes blood and bodily matter. However the viewer then notices the similarity between that and Medusa's hair. Maybe it is just her hair after all. Cellini has cleverly enticed the viewer in here, to take a closer look and therefore involved them in the sculpture as a whole. Once they do come closer, they begin to notice other things such as the similarity between Perseus' hair and Medusa's snakes. Hero and monster are not so separate. Even the features of their faces are very similar. Perhaps Cellini wants to suggest that evil can often wear the mask of good. Or he could even be implying that everyone has some evil within them, even the hero Perseus.  One of the good things about sculpture is that the viewer is able to walk around it, and fully immerse themselves in the piece. Cellini has used this...

Guccio di Mannaia, 'Chalice for Pope Nicholas IV', 13th century

  As the only work remaining of Sienese goldsmith Guccio di Mannaia, the chalice he created for Pope Nicholas IV in the late thirteenth century is an incredibly important work of art. Not only does it highlight the rich, opulent nature of papal commissions, but it proves the talent of Sienese goldsmiths and their resulting influence on painters and sculptors of the period. The chalice is innovative in shape and form, but it is striking first and foremost through the use of gold. It is an object that deserves to be viewed in the flesh, because of its reflective and therefore mimetic potential – like a bronze sculpture it is activated by light and should be experienced in the round as a three-dimensional, highly decorated art object. Its complicated design features an almost architectonic base, star-like as it spills out towards the viewer. The base builds up into the stem of the chalice which is decorated with an array of enamelled plaques featuring saints, prophets, angels and furt...

Artemisia Gentileschi, 'Jael and Sisera', c.1620

  My eye firstly notices the hand wielding the hammer above the unsuspecting man's head. Gentileschi is depicting a new and particularly horrible kind of weapon here instead of the huge sword she gave Judith to slice Holofernes' head off in 1620. The tent peg seems all the more violent, especially as the viewer is looking at the split second before the deed has been committed. Moreover, the gaze of the women (Jael) is focused and calm, making the piece seem unnerving. This is not a moment of hesitation but a snapshot of action - the woman has made up her mind and will commit to this murder. The viewer can only imagine how Gentileschi would have depicted the bloody aftermath, in her usual violent and tenebristic way. The fact that the artist has signed her name in the tomb-like stone above the man is significant - she is signing his life away in this painting, sending him swiftly to the grave.  The body of the man (Sisera) is also interestingly depicted. He lies in a rather eff...