Art and Eye

  Despite its lack of colour, this woodcut overloads the eye with detail. The art of woodcuts has long been dismissed as a 'primitive' technique yielding limited results, but the work of Sandys and his fellow Victorian artists suggests otherwise. This was a cheap method of reproducing art compared to engraving and etching, that produced very similar results. This particular version of the woodcut by Sandys (now in the RA collection) shows his woodcut reproduced by the engraver Joseph Swain. These delicate, emotive and sensory works were available to the general public, connecting them to this versatile medium for the first time.  The importance of the print culture cannot be underestimated in disseminating works like the one by Sandys. Victorian illustration was a booming method of mass production. The years 1855-75 have been referred to as the 'golden decades' of illustration by key critics in this field, from Harold Hartley to Sarah Phelps. Sandys himself is known to ...

  My eye is overwhelmed by the monumentality of this sculpture. Although it could simply be dismissed as another equestrian statue, an unknown horse and rider, the title given highlights the chosen message conveyed, backed up by the scale of the piece. Known primarily as a painter and with his sculptural works mostly forgotten, it is perhaps surprising to attribute such a piece to painter George Frederic Watts. However, his figures in his paintings often have a sculptural feel to them, and he did model some before translating their forms onto canvas. Furthermore an interest in texture has always been prominent in his works, shown here by his modelling in gesso which produces a puckered effect while the gesso is still wet. The emphasises the movement of the piece, the feel of dynamism, almost prefiguring Futurism, as the muscles of the horse contract and the male figure's body contorts and elongates to control the animal beneath him.  The statue is not without its complicated h...

  For a painting that seems to the eye so rooted in the Byzantine traditions of icon painting, it is altogether surprising that the date comes from the mid to late sixteenth century. Here, the artist Michael Damaskinos is conflating style and iconography. He was extremely well travelled - born in Crete he learnt the ways of icon painting, before travelling to Venice and subsequently all across Italy, where his style became infused with Italian naturalism. Despite this, he retained his alla Grecia manner, and highlighted his Greek roots in his decoration of San Giorgio dei Greci in Venice, literally the church of the Greeks. Twenty-five of the artist's major works are in Venice and twenty located in this church alone. Having apparently trained El Greco, Damaskinos was the master of the Cretan school of icon painting, and the Venetians recognised his importance.  Given the rather vague dating of the Stoning of Saint Stephen, one can presume Damaskinos created the work when he wa...

  The identity of the sitter that meets the eye of the viewer remains much discussed and ultimately unknown. Some think it to be Botticelli himself, but born around 1445 and so in his thirties when the painting was done, others deem it unlikely. It could be his brother Antonio, in keeping with the family likeness. Perhaps it is a goldsmith who designed the medallion presented to us, such as Michelozzo, who interestingly also had a hand in the creation of the Palazzo Medici. Ultimately, most scholars believe it either to be a member of the Medici family or a supporter, due to the medal showing the likeness of Cosimo de' Medici. It would make sense for the man to be one of Cosimo's sons, making this a piece of propaganda to display Medici family lineage. Interweaving portraiture into commissions was a common way of showing the enduring family heritage of prominent Florentine families. In Botticelli's own Adoration of the Magi there are multiple Medici portraits. Moreover the ...

  Full of complexities, this painting overloads the eye with detail. With multiple different titles proposed, the painting is both devotional, cultural and political. The career of the artist himself is just as unique. El Greco grew up learning the ways of the Cretan icon painter. His early works in Greece are defined by a propensity towards gold, elongation and a flattened picture space, all motifs of Byzantine art. Deciding to try his luck in Italy, he travelled through Venice and to Rome, hoping to gain commissions from key patrons. Establishing these cultural links, he synthesised the Italian Renaissance style and interest in colore of the Venetians with his Cretan roots as an icon painter. It was natural for him to visit Venice as Crete was among the key territories of the lagoon city. However, Rome was unsuccessful for him, and his final move was to Spain. In 1577, after having been unsuccessful yet again in Madrid, he went to Toledo, where he would paint his final works and ...

  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 centu...

  There is so much detail that the eye could take in, yet there is so much empty space. This is foregrounded by Giorgione's precise rendering of multiple textures. The shine of the armour almost glistens as though the paint is still wet, and would have fitted with the chapel display beside a window, which also corresponds with the shadows of the figures. The dress of Saint Francis suggests weight and mass, especially as the arms of his clothing drape down to articulate his gestures. These realistic folds are repeated in the velvet, crimson draperies of the Virgin who sits atop the extreme vertical of her throne. Her weighted clothing has Northern European connotations akin to the works of van Eyck or Antonella da Messina. Texture extends to the drooping standard that Saint George wields, and also to the rendering of the naturalistic landscape behind the figures. The trees on the far right of the piece really could be bending in the breeze. Finally, there is architectural texture, m...