Skip to main content

Anthony Van Dyck, 'Ecce Homo', 1621-7

 

It is difficult for the eye to decipher the true subject of this work. Most critics agree that Van Dyck depicts an Ecce Homo, the Latin words with which Pontius Pilate presented Christ, although others prefer to label it as a Man of Sorrows. Certainly the pain, emotion, resolution and turmoil is visible in both Christ's features and his body language. Like many artists Van Dyck seems attracted to this subject displaying deep suffering. The choice of a three-quarter length, turned profile allows the artist to exploit the stark nudity of Christ against a dark background. The flesh is dimpled, the arms veined and muscled, with flecks of blue in the canvas to give a human touch to Christ. The hands of Christ are brought in front of him, tied to show his capture and torment. A single tear drops down his deeply shadowed face, the twisting profile allowing Van Dyck to present heightened emotion. The light from his crown of thorns is all that pierces the darkness, echoed by the heavenly glow that seems to emanate from his pale skin. 

But there is another figure in this painting, difficult to see on the reproduction. In the right corner a Sub-Saharan African soldier spreads the royal robe behind Christ's back in a mocking gesture. His grinning face is disconcerting in the midst of the suffering of Christ, coupled with his twinkling eye. The contrast of the light and dark skin has been made very clear by the artist, as the black soldier is almost lost to the darkness of the canvas background completely. In this painting whiteness seemingly connotes power, incorporating seventeenth century racial views into the scene and ideas that still ring true today. Despite some sort of tear shape that falls from the eye of the black soldier mirroring Christ, recent examination of the painting has determined that this is a splash mark on the varnish. These details are much easier for the eye to digest in person at the Barber Institute in Birmingham. 

The painting is said to have come from the Palazzo Balbi in Genoa. Van Dyck certainly spent several years in Italy collecting works by fellow masters, and amassed a small but well focused collection. He certainly owned one religious subject by Titian, which happened to also be an Ecce Homo. However he recorded a number of different versions of the subject in his Italian Sketchbook, which perhaps shows why these piece is so emotionally evocative. A Man of Sorrows also by the artist is held in the Courtauld collection and has been suggested by Count Seilern as a modello for the later work in Birmingham. The rendering of both anatomy and drapery certainly is more developed and finished than the painting Seilern refers to. The drooping, weighty head of Christ coupled with the unsettling nature of the soldier come together in this particular piece for added emotional power.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

John Everett Millais, 'Peace Concluded', 1856

  My eye is drawn to the copy of The Times clutched in the hands of the officer. The white of the figurine on the man's knee and the white of his wife's sleeves all serve to make the white paper stand out even more on the canvas. As the title of the painting suggests, this is about the end of the Crimean War, seemingly depicting a soldier who has just returned home, surrounded by his family, but the mood is perhaps less euphoric than you might expect. The soldier seems somber and weary, and his wife has a look of concern. Although on the surface it seems to be quite a harmonious composition representing a close knit and traditional family, the positioning of the man is odd. It is his wife who takes her place at the apex of the triangular composition, the soldier is reduced to an emasculated role, perhaps an invalid, as suggested by the blanket over his legs. Her face is passive, but not exactly positive. With her arms draped around her husband, she looks posed, dutiful but not...
Post a Comment
Read more

Ernst Barlach, 'The Avenger', 1914

  On the advent of both the First World War and the artistic movement known as Futurism, Ersnt Barlach cast this work in bronze. The eye picks out an angular, horizontal form, a sense of hurried pace and strong facial features to this work by the German Expressionist artist. This piece is highly interesting when discussed in terms of the artist's oeuvre - Barlach entered the First World War with a clear attitude of patriotism. The sculpture reflects that, as the figure seemingly thrusts forward wielding a sizeable weapon above his head, leading the charge head on. Describing the sculpture as his 'raging Barbarian' it is clear that Barlach wanted to present an emotionally charged figure. Perhaps it is even a self portrait, with Barlach picturing himself as the hero. The artist did in fact serve briefly as an infantry officer. However realisation soon dawned and patriotism quickly dwindled. All of Barlach's sculptures from this point onward are influenced by the horror an...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egon Schiele, 'Dead Mother', 1910

  My eye is drawn to the hand. Those long, bony fingers are so characteristic of Schiele but here they are particularly skeletal and deathly – the veins seem to have been injected with poison. And they are a warning right in the foreground of the painting that keeps the viewer at bay as an outsider to this incredibly intimate relationship between mother and child, and sets the tone of death and mortality which hangs over the whole image. The mother cradles her child in a womb-like shroud, alluding to childbirth and the death of the mother explained in the title. She seems desperate to feel that bodily connection with her child, highlighted by the emphasis on her craned neck as she tries to connect to the baby. There is a clear link between the mother’s bent neck and the child’s bent neck, again emphasising their longing to be with each other. However, the darkness around the child is almost like ropes, with flecks of white in the painting making it look as though the darkness is wo...
Post a Comment
Read more