Skip to main content

Rogier van der Weyden, 'Saint Luke Drawing the Virgin', 1435-40

 


The conflation of heavenly and earthly realms mesmerises the viewer's eye as they gaze upon a fifteenth century Netherlandish setting occupied by key biblical figures. Saint Luke the Evangelist, patron saint of artists, is in the midst of capturing the Virgin and Child whilst Mary nurses Christ - and by extension the Church - somewhat oblivious to the intense gaze of the saint opposite. Seemingly captivated, Saint Luke is frozen in concentration, the luxurious folds of his red garment giving him weight and mass like a statue. He seems uncomfortably perched, and yet his stylus is poised to soldier on with his drawing. Opposite him the Virgin is enthralled by her own son, who equally pays attention to her. The lapis lazuli folds of her dress spill out over the complex tiling of the interior. The illusionistic skills of van der Weyden continue to impress any viewer today. 

Although little is known about the provenance behind this painting, its popularity is certain by the three other full size versions of this subject that exist by the artist. Documents also show that van der Weyden was appointed City Painter of Brussels in the 1430s, so it is likely this painting was commissioned there. An amalgamation of four individual oak wood panels, van der Weyden uses rich, expensive colours painted over a chalk ground bound with glue. The panel has suffered heavy damages, and it is testament to the artist's skill that the piece still retains its artistic and aesthetic powers. From the interior with its barrel vaulted ceiling and study just visible on the right, to the landscape with figural details and architectural ornamentation, the eye is constantly moving along the panel. This activation of the senses links to the mimetic, performative nature of this devotional piece. Further claims that Saint Luke is in fact a self portrait of the artist would imply his pride in the finished product. 

Although this is one of the earliest images of this subject in the Northern Renaissance, there are certain prototypes that van der Weyden references, as well as various iconographies. The painting recalls the Madonna of Chancellor Rolin of 1434 by Jan van Eyck, essentially exactly the same format but with the figures switched around. Infrared has shown that van der Weyden was continually making changes affecting his subject as well as the formal organisation, whether that was pentimenti to the hands and feet, or bringing the Virgin and Child closer together for greater intimacy. Their relationship is humanised, and with the loss of halos all of the figures slot seamlessly into the earthly realm. The walled garden outside is a reference to Mary's virginity, whilst the carvings on her throne depict Adam, Eve and the serpent of Temptation. Perhaps most intriguing are the figures in the background. Not one of them looks in on the event, suggesting a disinterestedness in the divine happenings of the interior. Instead they look outwards, encouraging the viewer to step closer and join them in their act of looking, thereby activating the work. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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...

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...

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...