Jocelyn Edwards

Final Exam essay

November 20, 2007

Betsy Towns-Art History

The Two-Faced Embrace

    Ever since the earliest days of my childhood, animals have captured my attention. I have been interested in animals. This love perhaps rose from ancestral backgrounds: both my mother and grandmother express a similar infatuation. My grandmother spent a majority of her life painting and cross-stitching images of wildlife that now line the walls of her home. My mother, in addition, can not seem to stop purchasing animal stationary and rescuing box turtles that lost themselves on a highway. Inevitably, I have developed an interest in animals. In this second year of the visual arts program, I have explored human relationships with animals; the strange selfish quality of our selfless love. For me, it is in respect to animals that the studying of art history becomes captivating. Images such as The Hall of the Bulls, Dying Lioness, She Wolf, and even the small relics from Neolithic civilizations depicting horse heads become more than a portrait and even more than a concept. They become windows that show us the ties between us and our animal ancestors. Humans, no matter how much we try and distance ourselves from our animalistic past always seem to feel a reverence or consciousness towards them.

    The Boy Strangling Goose from the Hellenistic civilization compels me. Sculpted by a man named Boethus of Chalcedon in 160 BCE, this sculpture shows two figures in an extreme twist. A little bronze boy wraps his arms, still covered in baby pudge, around a bronze gooses’ neck. The boys legs are bent in a defensive stance as he challenges the immense bird (almost as tall as himself) to a wrestling match. The birds’ beak opens in a loud squawk apparently taken aback by this sudden intrusion of personal space. His wing is caught in the babies arm and awkwardly shoots up in what looks like a very uncomfortable position. As we circle around the sculpture, it continues to be captivating, the 4 legs of the two bodies propelling our eyes up into the twists.  This sculpture depicts many different things at once. It shows the nature of childhood, masculinity, and most importantly a human relationship to animals. The child’s cling contains something enigmatic- he seems as if hugging and fighting the goose at the same time. It is a struggle to keep the goose close for comfort and fight it away with his brutish nature that yearns to be in control.  

    The duality shown in the grasp intrigues me. The ownership and companionship; the selfishness and selflessness. Pets and their owners struggle between these two emotions. Mostly we convince ourselves that owning pets is for friendship-we love our dogs and our dogs love us. However, a hierarchy is undeniable. We are above the dog. We enslave the pets and force them to love us. Although the boy in Boy Strangling Goose seems to love the goose and wants it to be closer, the goose is not in agreement with the emotion. It creates an uncomfortable and abusive situation.

In my newest painting, the canvas is almost completely filled with the image of a girl hugging a dog. Her arms wrap around the dog (arms melding into legs) clinging to her fur. Her face is shown squished into an uncomfortable love-unrequited and desperate as the dog turns in indifference. It is a terrible and uncomfortable existence. Our loneliness forced upon other. Instead of making other people love us, we make other animals love us. This may be a loneliness felt from a lack of nature-a desperate attempt to reconnect with our past, animalistic ways. It also may be sexual. If unsuccessful in human connection we revert to animals. I think human relationships with animals are beautiful at times. I absolutely love my dogs and cats. However, in observing my relationship with them, I am disappointed in myself. Equality is thrown out the window. It is love under my terms. We are delving into territories that no animal should have to experience.

    Through the investigation of human/animal depictions in ancient art, I have become aware of the depth and longevity of the struggle. This started at the first attempts at domination. It is long lasting, and never-ending. Our pushing away and pulling closer will always exist because we are both our animalistic past and our sophisticated present.

Works Cited

Ridgeway, Brunilde. Boy Strangling Goose: Genre Figure or Mythological Symbol?

American Journal of Archaeology. 11/15/07    

<http://ajaonline.org/pdfs/110.4/AJA1104_Ridgway.pdf>.

Lahanas, Micheal. Anicent Greek and Hellenistic Art: Children with Animals. 11/15/07.

    <http://www.mlahanas.de/Greeks/Arts/ChildGoose.htm>.

Child and Goose mid-second century B.C. Louvre, Paris. The Museum of Antiquities

    Collection. 11/15/07.

    <http://www.usask.ca/antiquities/Collection/Child_Goose.html>.

Hellenistic Art. Wikipedia.11/14/2007. 11/15/2007

    <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hellenistic_sculpture#Sculpture>.

Anna McKinsey

Paragraph on the Isenheim Alterpiece

St. John the Baptist's hand in the Isenheim Altarpiece

The center panel of the Isenheim Alterpiece is a painting full of unbearable anguish and suffering.* The dark, sickly green background sets the stage for a haunting scene and the figures in the foreground certainly live up to the foreboding promises of the background. Upon the cross, Christ's skin has already begun to rot and the grotesque and deformed silhouette of his arms and torso transform the crucifixion story into a writhing, intoxicating nightmare. Christ's head sinks into his chest from exhaustion and his fingers splay upwards in a final display of agony. His arms are unnaturally long to accentuate the weigh of his body as he towers above those that mourn beside him. St. John the Divine supports the failing Virgin and Mary Magdalene has thrown herself on the ground at Christ's feet, wailing and wringing her hands in pitiful despair. These three heartbroken figures to the left of Christ (on Christ's right) are countered by a curious calm which flanks him to the right. John the Baptist stands calmly with his bare feet spread apart and a stoic expression on his face. In one hand he holds a manuscript and the other points directly at Jesus. This hand is held, index finger protruding, in a ridiculously saucy position which seems unnecessary seeing as it directs us right towards the obvious focal point of the painting. I suppose that Grunewald was relaying some kind of narrative in this hand gesture but, nevertheless, John the Baptist is still the chord of dissonance that rings in the Isenheim Altarpiece. Because of his presence, this crucifixion scene morphs into a surreal story were the figures do not make sense. John the Baptist's stoicism does not fit and, because of this, Grunewald's scene would be an impossibility in reality.

* You know me: I can't leave the verb 'to be' alone. I would restate the first sentence like this: "Unbearable anguish and suffering saturate the center panel of Matthias Grunewald's shocking 1510 masterwork the Isenheim Altarpiece. (you might as well get full names and dates in the first sentence, too, if it feels right.)

Suzanne Hooker

paragraph uploaded Jan 28, 2008

The Surreal Life: Bosch' Hell

In Hieronymus Bosch's painting, Hell (the right hand panel of the work Garden of Earthly Delights,1504), Bosch details a scene that is overwhelming in the complexity, and bizarre when broken down into individual elements. He has moved away from the movement towards realism and naturalism, and instead created a piece that speaks to the surrealist movement to come. Nestled amongst the humans in pain and the oversized objects, selected in a seemingly random fashion, the viewer can glimpse moles wearing nun's habits, catfish with fangs and fancy headresses and a pair of ears wielding a knife. This painting appeals to me because the details are so unexpected; at a glance, the painting appears cluttered and dark, the limbs of tortured humans almost creating the illusion of foliage, they are so dense, and yet, upon close inspection, it is quite easy to pick out tiny scenarios of pain, suffering and humiliation. I am intrigued by artists that are fixated on these darker aspects of life; Bosch had quite an imagination when it came to the variety and scope of objects that could be inserted into a human rectum. Beautifully macabre.

Kyle Yagle

Betsy Towns

Art History 101

Mid-Term Essay                               

The Highlights of Adam and Eve

    God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being. God then planted Adam in the Garden of Eden and gave him total dominion over everything in it. Later God caused a deep sleep to fall on Adam, and He took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place. The rib which the Lord God had taken from the man He made into a woman. He specifically tells them that they can eat of every single tree that is in this garden - with the exception of the tree of the knowledge of good and…. I find it almost futile to recount the rest of the story of Adam and Eve to you when you have probably heard the story since you could first remember. Being such a significant bible story, artists have recreated the moment of Adam and Eve’s downfall throughout history. Taking a look at art specifically from the fifteenth century, we find an interesting comparison between the visionary of two artists on the subject of Adam and Eve.

    Masaccio’s Expulsion from Eden provides a powerful recount of the consequences that Adam and Eve faced for their disobeying of God. Using a vertical composition Masaccio decided to paint Adam and Eve stepping out of the gates of Eden, to earth. Leaving the Garden of Eden, Adam buries his face in his hands, as Eve tries desperately to cover her naked flesh. Hovering above the two mourning people, sits cherubim, whose purpose is to keep the way of the tree of life. Considering the fact that Masaccio expanded on the architectural style and the perspective developed by Brunelleschi I find an alarming number of issues with the cherubim. A red garment drapes over the angel, defining his figure, but instead of flowing off his body the red cloth smoothes to the sides, forming the same texture of the sky, flattening out the space. A slight crease echoes the bodies of the Adam and Eve figures, within the outline, a dark blue contrasts the baby blue used in the background. The color difference disrupts the consistency of the background, and the angel’s garment doesn’t enter the void as it appears it should; flattening the space between the angel and Adam and Eve.

Considering that Masaccio was known for “revitalizing the human figure with robustness and creating an illusion of tangibility”, the cherubim contradicts that statement. His hand lazily points away from the gates with a sword held out to the side, seeming harmless, rather than a force not to be reckoned with.  Providing this is a narrative I would have imagined a more stern, even scary, cherubim to enhance the notion of the exile of Adam and Eve. The face lacks any contrast or expression that Masaccio had done so well in Eve’s expression of grief.  I point out the flaws I find in the piece because they detract the power it has as a narrative and I find it interesting that perspective and other aesthetic elements are issues when Masaccio’s Holy Trinity(1425. Fresco,21ft 9in x 9ft 4ins. S Maria Novella, Florence.) and Tribute Money(c. 1427. Fresco 8ft4ins x 19ft 8ins Brancacci Chapel, S Maria del Carmine, Florence) were praised for those aesthetic elements.

    Taking the same subject matter, Jan van Eyck depicts Adam and Eve in the end panels of the Ghent altarpiece, having his own unique perspective on the story. The limited color palette and fewer gesticulations, surprisingly creates a more interesting piece compared to Masaccio’s Expulsion from Eden. Through high contrast and shadow, you feel you could step into the space that they occupy, creating a more intimate relationship with the viewer, but I do question the decisions made in the expressions and gestures of the figures. However life-like they appear, Masaccio figures almost have the same effect because of the gestures and facial expressions he put into Adam and Eve. Rather than be ashamed by their mere nakedness Adam and Eve’s arms hang limp with a fig leaf in hand, covering their genitalia. Eve holds a yellow fruit in her other hand, identifying her as the one who took the fruit from the forbidden tree.

    In contrast to the more narrative approach of Masaccio, Jan van Eyck’s pieces serve more informative because the simple organization of the composition allows for easy comprehension. Inscriptions at the bottom of each piece state, “Adam thrusts us into death” and ‘Eve has afflicted us with death’ and above the figures are their names. I find myself drawn more to Jan van Eyck’s Adam and Eve simply because of the technique and naturalistic look of the piece, allowing for an understanding on both an emotional and conceptual level.

    The Assumption of the Virgin is another story told by two artists, Correggio and Titian, but this time, both visions are oddly similar. Other than Correggio using an entire architectural surface to create a scene swirling with saints and angels, the colors and composition are alike. Each piece separates into three layers, earthly figures on the bottom, Mary resting on clouds in the middle, and a figure hovering above. Mary is supported by a number of cherubs and her head looks toward the heavens as she is being lifted. Within each piece the climax is near the top with a blinding yellow light that represents the kingdom of God.

    I find the Correggio Assumption of the Virgin far more effective in every aspect, in comparison to Titian’s piece.  Obviously being influenced by Michelangelo’s Sistine Ceiling, Correggio’s Assumption of the Virgin transforms the architectural structure and foreshortens from the viewpoint of a spectator on the ground-as if they were in the same space. This contributes to the idea of how the angels and saints have come to witness this glorious moment and the viewer is able to become a part of it, creating a more intimate moment, similar to the way Jan van Eyck’s Adam and Eve allows the audience to feel as if they could step right into the frame of the figures.

    Looking at pieces done by various artists on the same subject matter, provides an interesting look at how stylistically pieces went in opposite directions, creating a difference in the way the viewer perceived the story. I found myself attracted to the more realistic representations of Adam and Eve and The Assumption of the Virgin, because it allowed for a deeper connection and more of an experience, almost as if it were a snap shot of the actual moment. Realistic or not, the pieces mentioned serve their purpose to enlighten the viewer of these historical moments.

Honour, Hugh, and John Fleming. The Visual Arts: A History. 7th ed. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson Education, Inc., 2005.