Skip to main content

Rosso Fiorentino, 'Moses Defending the Daughters of Jethro', 1523-7

 


With no gazes directly linked to the viewer, it is difficult for the eye to know where to look. A violent struggle is being portrayed - without the title to define it, this piece would be difficult to deconstruct. It may remain elusive, but its style is less so. A Mannerist work, it is characterised by a tightly enclosed scene, figures who struggle to dominate the space as well as struggle with each other, and an originality in its colouration. Mannerism has long been linked to a negative period in the history of art, a decline after the death of Raphael. This was amplified after Giovanni Bellori in 1672 characterised it as 'corrupt' and 'fatal'. A continuous rejection of the period was heightened in the nineteenth century and has not disappeared since; the artworks continued to be viewed with suspicion. To further complicate the situation, Mannerism was not just one artist, or one artistic style but it was a broad category among many others during the sixteenth century. It is a concept that is difficult to deconstruct, but with its rejection of both Classical and Renaissance standards it has ultimately been defined by a wave of negative criticism from the seventeenth century to present day.

Despite Mannerist artworks being anti-classical in nature, this piece in particular makes reference back to various artists and styles. The anatomical detail of Rosso's work can be linked to Michelangelo's depictions of the nude on the Sistine ceiling, but also in the background of his Doni Tondo - even the same washed out tones seem to be quoted here. Equally, the figure that leans forward in exhaustion, his head towards us, seems to be referencing the figure reaching into the water in Michelanglo's Battle of Cascina cartoon. Due to these characters being so unidentifiable, even the title figure of Moses is difficult to pick out in Rosso's painting. Some critics believe he appears only once, others think this is a continuous narrative where he is depicted on multiple occasions. In particular, Edward Olszewski identifies him three times, first in the foreground of the exhausted form with his head down, then again at the center with the drapery, and finally in the top register on the left rushing to the aid of the startled woman. They are all linked in Olszewski's eyes by the disheveled hair. Other writers are even unsure it is an original; not only are there some unresolved passages but poor workmanship, such as in the sheep in the center of the composition. 

With the complexities of figures emphasised by the stacked perspective, this is far from a conventional painting and not one that easily slots into Rosso's oeuvre. His choice of religious scenes normally related to the life of Christ, and there seems no precedent for this choice of subject in the Renaissance. Equally, there are no preparatory drawings associated with it, and we do not know if it was painted in Florence or Rome. Nevertheless is is a painting that cannot be ignored. As a fairly large canvas the viewer is sucked into the action, astounded by the foreshortened figures and level of drama. The wide eyed, gaping stare on the far right of the composition is particularly evocative, whilst the figures in the foreground convey utter exhaustion. The painting seems to convey all stages of emotion - triumph at the top to defeat below, a hierarchical composition with the power of man converging in the center, his fist coming down with an almost divine intention to strike the final blow. 

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...

Marianne von Werekin, 'Sunrise', 1920

  An endless line of men that tug the rope of a small boat soon disappear into murky, burning red waters beyond. Colour is fantastical, mystical and otherworldly, producing an atmosphere far from reality. This is the Symbolist work of Marianne von Werefkin, part of the German Expressionists that worked in Munich from the 1910s. A movement so often dominated by the male names of the time – Kandinsky especially – Werefkin was a vital participant, expanding the range of art produced and displayed, complementing her work with art theory and written sources, as well as creating her own Salon upon her arrival in Munich. It is easy to get lost in biography with a piece such as this. Wasted, human potential seems to be at the heart of this work, signalled by the endless line of men pushing forward towards the edge of the picture plane. There is a sense of struggle and a universality to the suffering through the portrayal of faceless men in similar blue tones. Looking at the date produced o...