Anguissola’s Angles

(smarthistory.org)

In Sofonisba Anguissola’s paintings, there is a subtle kind of listening happening — a quiet attention paid to the soft and steady rhythms of daily life. Her work does not stand with feet planted wide and arms akimbo, declaring its presence. It is a gentler calling, a drawing in through the whisper of intimate spaces and the shared, silent understandings of her subjects’ eyes. 

In the simple act of sisters playing chess (The Game of Chess: or Portrait of the artist’s sisters playing chess), Anguissola weaves a tale not of grandeur but of the quiet moments that stitch together the fabric of daily life. The intent and knowing stares are rendered with a grace that fills the frame with the unspoken stories of the women within it.

Her self-portraits, too, are a quiet challenge to the grandiose self-presentations of her era’s men. They are meditations, a kind of silent conversation with the self. Her gaze meets ours across time, asking us to see her — as artist, as woman, as both seer and seen.

Anguissola finds in the understated a celebration of life’s quiet beauty. She captures the mundane moments with a fidelity that transcends their simplicity. Her touch brings forth not just the image but the feel of her subjects, the emotional resonance lingering beneath the surface.

In her world, the Renaissance speaks in a voice less concerned with the spectacle and more with the inward journey. Her paintings stand as a testament to the quiet power of stillness, to the eloquent truths too delicate to be spoken. Anguissola maps the contours of her world in the language of gestures and glances, finding in the everyday a drama as rich and deep as any fabled quest or celestial vision.

With her art, Anguissola quietly asserts the importance of the domestic sphere, the feminine narrative, the subtle detail. She invites the viewer to tune in to history, to the often-ignored stories of humanity. Her legacy is one of perspectives, a gentle insistence that we lean in closer and acknowledge the spaces designated to the margins of the grand historical narrative. Her paintings are not declarations as such. Instead, they are gentle invitations that flirt for our attention. 

(Un)Gentle Gentileschi

(nationalgallery.org.uk)

In Artemisia Gentileschi’s canvases, viewers find dramatic stagings of the female form, where each painting enacts a complex narrative of defiance. Her figures are not simply static. They seem to exert force, to act upon the viewer with an almost kinetic energy. In Judith Slaying Holofernes, there is a tumultuous movement and emotion, the canvas itself barely containing the violent resolve of its protagonists. The biblical story is there, but it is Gentileschi’s personal inflection of the tale that lends the image its formidable motivations.

Gentileschi’s Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting discards the traditional modesty metaphor for a more assertive self-insertion into the artistic tradition. The self-portrait is a careful measure of presence, asserting her place in the art historical dialogue with quiet authority. The look she gives the viewer is one of recognition, as if she is aware of the future conversations her presence will provoke.

In her portrayal of Lucretia, Gentileschi delves into the narrative with a storyteller’s concern for the inner life of her subject. Here is a character at the precipice of her fate, depicted with an intimacy that suggests the painter’s deep meditation on choice and consequence. The moment is less about the act itself than about the psychological landscape that precedes it.

The palpability of Gentileschi’s paintwork, the way the thick layers seem to pulse with the life of her subjects, lends a sculptural dimension to her art. Gentileschi’s brush does not just apply color but seems to mold the very substance of flesh, giving her figures a manic presence that is rare in the era’s depictions of women.

Gentileschi’s work is a sustained argument about the representation of women, both in the art of her day and in the broader scope of history. Through her work, she conducts a masterclass in the reinterpretation of the female narrative, repositioning the female body as a moment of power, agency, and emotional depth.

The viewer of Gentileschi’s work is asked not just to look but to witness: to engage with a world where women are the central figures, not as objects to be gazed upon, but as subjects with stories that demand to be told. In her hands, the canvas becomes a space of revelation, a challenge to the passive consumption of images, and an invitation to a more profound engagement with the stories that art can tell.

Saville’s Figurative

(gagosian.com)

Jenny Saville’s approach to the canvas is one of confrontation and challenge. Her subjects are fleshy behemoths, often female forms that push against the edges of the frame, spilling over and beyond the conventional boundaries of beauty and taste. They are not the nymphs or odalisques of historical portraiture but titanic figures that demand we acknowledge the reality of the body in all its mass and mess.

Saville’s work claims female form from the male gaze that has long dominated art history. Her figures are not offered for the viewer’s taste but assert their presence, imposing a physicality that cannot be ignored. In this, Saville aligns herself with a tradition of painters who have sought to render the body with harsh honesty, from Lucian Freud to Francis Bacon, while also defying that tradition as well.

Saville’s comprehensive work is a defiant denial of the sanitized body, the body as it is sold to us in advertisements and has undergone cosmetic surgery. Instead, Saville presents the viewer with a visceral reality, a raw form that some may find uncomfortable. Her paintings don’t merely display bodies. The thick, palpable layers of paint mimic the layers of skin and tissue, while the often blurred or smeared features convey a sense of movement.

Saville has been criticized for her fixation on the grotesque, which some see as an indulgence in the carnal. Yet, what these criticisms often miss is the empathy at the heart of her work. Saville’s bodies are not spectacles; they are embodiments of experience – distinct lives lived in the physical world. They are marred and marked by existence, and there is beauty in this that Saville captures without sentimentality.

In pieces such as Plan and Fulcrum, Saville explores the body as a landscape, with folds of flesh rendered as terrain. She questions the viewer’s own relationship with their body, prompting a reflection that is as existential as it is physical. Saville’s paintings resist easy consumption. They are not restful or pleasing in any traditional sense. They are a reminder that art can confront and disturb, shuffling us from complacent observation to active engagement.

Lempicka’s Ouevre

(famsf.org)

Tamara de Lempicka’s canvases articulate the essence of an era enamored with velocity and veneer. Her Self-Portrait in the Green Bugatti is not so much a portrait as a cultural statement, the sleekness of the automobile and the subject’s assertive gaze marking a departure from tradition, a thrust into the embrace of modernity where identity merges with the artifacts of progress.

The figure in La Belle Rafaela lies resplendent, not passive but commanding, a celebration of the body as a monument to itself, liberated from the historical gaze that sought to contain it. This is a form that refuses reduction; it is a declaration of corporeal autonomy, the body as a subject, not an object, within the narrative of visual art.

The Portrait of Marjorie Ferry encapsulates the complexities of the time, presenting the individual as emblematic of broader cultural shifts. The sitter, swathed in the luxury of her epoch, becomes a tableau of the jazz age itself—a composite of sophistication, ennui, and the subtle undercurrents of rebellion against the constraints of the expected social script.

In Lempicka’s work, we observe a dialogue between the surface and what lies beneath. Her art, a meticulous choreography of the overt and the implied, invites a dissection of appearances, an understanding that the apparent simplicity of her subjects belies a rich subtext. Each painting becomes a microcosm of the epoch, capturing the tension between the era’s bright new visions and the shadow of its uncertainties.

Her oeuvre is a reflection on the nature of aesthetics and their intersection with the social and technological revolutions of the day. It stands as a testament to the notion that art is not merely a reflection but a construction of reality, an active participant in the shaping of contemporary consciousness. Through her work, Lempicka asserts that the act of looking is never neutral, and the act of depicting is always a form of engagement with the world.

Ruysch’s Still Life

(nationalgallery.org.uk)

Rachel Ruysch’s still life paintings, with their opulent blooms and intricate decay, are delicate studies in the art of seeing, as though one were peering through a magnifying glass not just at the natural world but at the very fabric of life itself. Her Flowers in a Vase is an array of flora suspended in time, a duel between the vibrancy of life and the whispering proximity of mortality, each petal and leaf a word spoken softly against the silence of nonexistence.

In her Fruit and Insects, there is a lush banquet laid before the eyes, each fruit, each creeping creature, a character imbued with their own narrative, their own fleeting triumphs, and tragedies under the indifferent gaze of time. The canvas becomes a stage where nature enacts its quiet play, the fruit at once in its zenith of sweetness and on the cusp of its decline, a dual performance of life in its most resplendent moment and the subtle encroachment of decay.

The art of Ruysch captures the profound and intricate beauty that whispers from the mundane. It is a beauty that does not announce itself with fanfare but rather reveals itself slowly to those who take the time to dwell within the frame and listen to the stories that unfold in the silent language of shadow and light, of vibrant color and its gradual fading.

Her paintings are like chapters of a larger narrative that speaks to the cycles of growth and dissolution, the eternal procession of seasons, and the quiet dignity that lies in the natural progression of all things. In Ruysch’s work, we find a deep appreciation for the transient tapestry of existence, an invitation to reflect on the passage of time, and the subtle interplay between the momentary and the eternal.

Through her meticulous art, Ruysch offers a mirror to our own existence, asking us to see ourselves in the rise and fall of each bloom, in the ebb and flow of life’s tides. It is a mirror that reflects not with judgment but with an understanding of the delicate balance of life, the preciousness of each moment, and the quiet grace that can be found in the acceptance of life’s impermanence and death’s immortality. 

Hesse’s World

(pbs.org)

Eva Hesse, with her endangered spirit and inherent understanding of the materials she coaxed into form, crafted works that are as enigmatic as they are emotive. Her pieces—often wrought from the most industrial substances: latex, fiberglass, and plastic—are infused with a poetic gravity that defies their physical lightness. There’s a profound intimacy in Hesse’s work, a diary-like divulgence that is both vulnerable and assertive.

Her major works, like Hang Up and Contingent, are not merely sculptures but are charged with the complexities of being—each piece a silent interlocutor in a dialogue about existence and meaning. Hang Up, with its stark frame and draped cord, is an exercise in nihilism, a piece that quite literally frames nothing, encircling absence and, in doing so, commenting on the very act of creation and the expectations of art.

Contingent takes on a more organic presence, with sheets of fiberglass and latex that suggest skin or tissue—malleable, translucent, alive. Hesse here blurs the lines between the industrial and the organic, the manufactured and the grown, much like the way our own identities are shaped and reshaped in the tension between external forces and internal growth.

Hesse’s art speaks to the fragility and the resilience of the human condition, a meditation on the nature of life. Each piece, with its unique textural narrative, its evocative forms, suggests a story half-told, a whisper caught between the lines of the manifest and the hidden.

In reviewing Hesse’s work, one encounters the paradox of robust delicacy, stoic vulnerability. She invites the viewer to a contemplation that is as tactile as it is visual, to experience the profound resonance of materials transformed by the entropic decay of her vision. Her legacy lies in the silent eloquence of these materials, the deep spaces they occupy, and their resolute determination to go gentle into the good night of nothingness. 

Mutu

(bombmagazine.org)

In the realm of contemporary art, where the ephemeral often masquerades as the profound, Wangechi Mutu’s Preying Mantra stands apart, a piece that demands not just viewing but contemplation, not just contemplation but confrontation. This work, with its fusion of the grotesque and the beautiful, the mythical and the real, is a slap in the face to the complacency with which we often approach art, and indeed, life itself. The grotesque and beautiful elements are seamlessly blended together in the figure, challenging the viewer to reconcile the contradictions. Close inspection reveals intricately detailed textures and patterns inked across the body that draw the eye in for further examination. 

Preying Mantra, like much of Mutu’s work, delves into the complexities of identity, particularly the female identity, and the cultural and historical narratives that shape it. But to say just that would be to grossly oversimplify what Mutu achieves in this piece. Here, she does not merely explore these themes; she lays them bare in all their contradictory, often uncomfortable, glory. The figure takes on aspects of both human and animal forms, with the head of a mythical creature and wings protruding from the back, yet the body maintains curves and features recognizably human and feminine. 

The figure in the piece, a hybrid of human, animal, and machine, is both a deity and a demon, a symbol of power and subjugation. This is no passive subject of the male gaze, nor is it a straightforward emblem of feminist liberation. Mutu’s figure challenges the viewer to reconsider their understanding of femininity, of beauty, of power. It is an affront to the neat categories into which we often seek to place women, and indeed, all those deemed ‘other’ by the dominant discourses of society. Close observation reveals elements that could symbolize both power, such as the claws and fangs, and objectification, like the exaggerated curves of the body.

The wordplay inherent in the title Preying Mantra is highly significant and adds further depth to Mutu’s critique and commentary. On the surface, “preying” evokes a sense of danger, violence, and consumption that is reinforced by the monstrous, hybrid figure depicted. However, it also shares phonetic similarities with “praying,” alluding to religious or spiritual devotion.

This duality reflects the complex, contradictory nature of the figure as both a threat and an object of veneration. It also comments on the historical dynamics of power in which African and female bodies have been both preyed upon and exoticized in the Western gaze, as well as spiritually revered in some contexts. The title hints at the tense coexistence of these opposing forces.

The wordplay can also be seen as a play on the relationship between predator and prey. The figure maintains characteristics of both, challenging assumptions about such power dynamics. She both consumes and is consumed, praying and preying, in a cycle reflecting the intertwined nature of identity, representation, and the systems that seek to define them.

Mutu’s use of materials in Preying Mantra is also worthy of note. The piece, a collage of ink, acrylic, and a myriad of other media, is a testament to the complexity of its subject matter. The disparate elements are not harmoniously blended but coexist in a tense, dynamic relationship, mirroring the tensions inherent in discussions of identity, race, and gender. Layers of various textures and colors are visible upon closer inspection, with no single material dominating the work. 

Moreover, Preying Mantra is a cutting critique of the historical objectification and exoticization of the female body, particularly the bodies of African women. Mutu subverts the traditional artistic narrative, reclaiming the agency of her subject in a way that is both empowering and deeply unsettling. The figure maintains an air of strength and power despite also clearly displaying aspects meant to elicit the male gaze, challenging preconceptions. The viewer is forced to confront their own complicity in the systems of power and representation that Mutu challenges.

The piece utilizes a mixture of Western and non-Western artistic traditions to fully dismantle preexisting modes of representation. Mutu draws from a range of cultural influences and artistic styles that do not typically intersect. In doing so, she comments on the hybrid and complex nature of modern identity while also critiquing the tendency to silo creatives and art within narrow categories.

Wangechi Mutu’s Preying Mantra is a powerful, provocative piece. It is a work that refuses to be ignored, that challenges the viewer at every turn. It is a searing commentary on identity, power, and the art world’s often superficial engagement with these concepts. Mutu does not offer easy answers; instead, she presents a complex, layered narrative that demands our attention and our engagement. The piece merits close study to appreciate its subtle complexities and multilayered symbolism.

Portrait of a Tourist by Izquierdo

(thearstory.org)

In Maria Izquierdo's Portrait of Tourist (Portrait of Mr. Henri de Chatillon), we encounter a sophisticated play of dualities and artistic liberties that defies conventional portraiture. This painting, a portrait within a portrait, cleverly blurs the lines between reality and artistic interpretation, revealing Izquierdo’s keen insight into the nuances of representation and identity. 

At the heart of this work is the depiction of an artist painting Mr. Henri de Chatillon. The inner portrait shows de Chatillon sitting on a wooden chair in front of an easel. On the easel we see the beginnings of the portrait taking shape. The artist, whose face we do not see, stands to the side, palette in hand, focusing intently on capturing de Chatillon's likeness. However, Izquierdo's portrayal diverges from a straightforward representation in subtle yet significant ways. In the inner portrait, the artist has taken liberties with de Chatillon’s appearance: his shirt is rendered in a more vibrant and darker blue than what he was likely wearing in reality, and he is depicted wearing his hat, which in the act of sitting for the portrait, he holds in his hand. 

This artistic license speaks volumes about the nature of portraiture as an act of creation, not just of replication. By altering the colors and accessories, Izquierdo does not merely capture the likeness of de Chatillon; she captures an essence, an artist’s impression that goes beyond the mere physical attributes of the subject. This approach challenges the viewer’s expectations of fidelity in portraiture, suggesting that a portrait can convey deeper truths that transcend literal accuracy. A portrait is able to reveal aspects of personality and character that may not be immediately apparent from a straightforward likeness.

The nested structure of the painting, with its portrait within a portrait, adds to the meta-narrative quality of the work. It invites viewers to contemplate the layers of reality and interpretation in art. The outer portrait, showing the act of painting, reveals the process behind the creation of an image. We see the artist standing to the side, palette in one hand, brush in the other, intently focused on her work. The inner portrait demonstrates the outcome of this process—an outcome that is as much about the artist’s perception as it is about the subject’s reality. 

Furthermore, the decision to enhance the color of de Chatillon’s shirt, making it a richer, bolder blue, and to alter his pose with the hat adds a dimension of vitality and character to the subject. These changes, though seemingly minor, transform the subject from a passive sitter into a more dynamic figure, suggesting personality and presence that might not be as apparent in a more straightforward depiction. The hat, which he holds in his hand, gives him a sense of motion and life when compared to a literal portrayal.

The painting, in its entirety, becomes a meditation on the nature of artistic representation. Izquierdo, through her skillful manipulation of reality and artifice, encourages a dialogue about the role of the artist in shaping how subjects are perceived and remembered. She asserts that portraiture is as much about the artist’s interpretation as it is about the subject’s reality. A portrait reveals one perspective on its subject, necessarily shaped by the artist's individual vision.

In Portrait of Tourist (Portrait of Mr. Henri de Chatillon), Maria Izquierdo masterfully demonstrates that the truth of a portrait lies not in its faithful replication of reality, but in its ability to capture the intangible—the personality, spirit, and essence of the subject—filtered through the artist’s unique lens and perception. What emerges is one view of the subject, necessarily subjective but no less revealing about it.

Yang’s Works

(moma.org)

Haegue Yang’s sonic sculptures embody a fusion of the sensory and the conceptual, a hallmark of her work. These installations, often comprising everyday objects like venetian blinds, bells, and light bulbs, transcend their mundane origins to become something altogether more enigmatic. The way Yang manipulates these materials demonstrates a command over the aesthetics of form and the dynamics of space. Through her precise arrangements of forms and use of both light and sound, Yang is able to imbue simple materials with layered symbolic meanings and transform the experience of the spaces they occupy.

The use of venetian blinds in her installations, for instance, is particularly noteworthy. On a superficial level, they might appear as mere domestic objects, but in Yang's hands, they are transformed into complex, layered structures that play with light, shadow, and space in nuanced and sophisticated ways. Their slats and cords take on an architectural quality as Yang manipulates them into elaborate shapes and patterns that divide spaces rhythmically while also connecting disparate areas. They become, in effect, a medium to explore themes of visibility and invisibility, of revealing and concealing through the way light passes through or is blocked by the blinds. The blinds do not just divide space physically; they create a dialogue with it through the interplay of light and materials, offering a commentary on the nature of boundaries—both physical and metaphorical. 

Moreover, the sonic elements of these sculptures add an immaterial yet potent dimension to the work that engages additional sensory experience. The gentle ringing of bells or the subtle hum of electronics imbue the installations with a sense of movement and life. They create an auditory landscape, with sounds emanating from different areas, that complements the visual experience and invites the viewer to perceive the space differently. This aspect of Yang's work invites reflections on the ephemeral nature of sound and its ability to evoke memory and emotion through a non-visual medium.

Yang’s work also speaks to a broader cultural narrative through her choice of cross-cultural materials and influences. Her Korean heritage and experience of living and working in Germany infuse her art with a unique cross-cultural perspective. With their blend of Eastern and Western aesthetics and everyday materials, the sonic sculptures become sites of cultural intersection that challenge preconceptions of national or regional styles. They encourage the viewer to consider the fluidity of cultural identity and the interconnectedness of global artistic traditions in an increasingly borderless world. 

Sherman’s #96

                                                                                                                                (arctic.edu)

Cindy Sherman’s Untitled #96, from her critically acclaimed Centerfolds series, operates within a complex matrix of gaze, representation, and self-identity. This image, presenting Sherman herself in an ambiguous, almost adolescent pose, prostrate on the floor and clutching a classified ad, engages in a critical dialogue with the viewer. It challenges the very conventions of looking and the politics of representation that underpin them.

The composition, with its echoes of a centerfold yet distinctly lacking in overt sexualization, subverts the normative expectations of such imagery. Instead of yielding a commodified figure of female sexuality, Sherman presents a tableau of introspection, vulnerability, and perhaps longing. The subject’s averted gaze disrupts the traditional dynamic between viewer and viewed, undermining the passive role historically assigned to women in both art and popular culture.

In Untitled #96, the use of color and light is subtly manipulative, casting the scene in hues that suggest both the innocence and the ephemerality of youth. The spatial arrangement, with the figure isolated in the center of a cropped, almost oppressive, emptiness, amplifies a narrative of solitude and self-reflection. The titular suggestion of anti-sexuality is reflected even in the numerical reversal of “69” to “96.” It positions the subject within a narrative of self-reflection that is distinctly removed from the Piscean embrace of subject and object in 69.  

Sherman’s work here is less about portraiture in the traditional sense and more about the deconstruction of identity. The ambiguity inherent in the scene opens a space for multiple readings, wherein each viewer is implicated in the act of meaning-making. Sherman, simultaneously the artist and the subject, orchestrates this interplay, crafting an identity that is both a performance and a challenge to the viewer’s interpretive frameworks.

Untitled #96 becomes a critical tool for examining the fluidity of identity and the performative aspects of gender. It underscores the constructed nature of femininity and critiques the societal and visual structures that shape our perception of it. In this work, Sherman adeptly navigates the terrain of modern identity politics, blurring the boundaries between art and life, image and self, and in doing so, compels a reconsideration of how identities are formed, performed, and perceived in contemporary culture.

Two Fridas

                                                                                                                        (fridakahlo.org)

Frida Kahlo’s The Two Fridas is a work that exemplifies the profound entanglement of life and art, a theme central to Kahlo’s oeuvre. This double self-portrait serves as a poignant narrative of duality and pain, encapsulating Kahlo’s physical and emotional traumas, as well as her complex identity. Measuring approximately 55 by 76 centimeters, the painting depicts Kahlo presenting two versions of herself sitting side by side on a wooden bench in the countryside. It is a work that invites not just an aesthetic analysis, but a philosophical and biographical one as well. 

In The Two Fridas, Kahlo presents two versions of herself sitting side by side wearing contrasting outfits. One Frida is dressed in a traditional Victorian gown consisting of a white dress with lace details and a blue ribbon around the waist, symbolic of Kahlo’s European upbringing and education. The other Frida wears a colorful Tehuana outfit consisting of an embroidered huipil, a long red skirt, and a necklace of coins, representative of her Mexican heritage. This juxtaposition is more than sartorial; it is a representation of Kahlo’s bifurcated identity—her deep connection to her Mexican roots as well as her ties to European modernism through her education and marriage to Diego Rivera. The two figures are connected by both a literal and metaphorical dark blue heartstring, suggesting an unbreakable bond between these disparate aspects of her complex self and experiences. 

The painting reflects Kahlo’s life, which was marked by immense physical suffering due to a tragic bus accident at age 18 that left her injured, as well as the emotional turmoil of her tumultuous marriage to famed Mexican muralist Diego Rivera. These experiences are not merely represented but are viscerally embodied in the painting. The surgical corset worn by one Frida and the exposed, aching heart of the other speak to her lifelong physical pain from the accident and subsequent surgeries. Meanwhile, the twin figures illustrate the deep emotional and psychological fractures that this constant physical pain engendered within Kahlo. Gazing into each other’s eyes, the two figures express the inner turmoil of Kahlo’s dual identities and experiences.

The Two Fridas challenges the traditional boundaries of self-portraiture. She transforms the usually singular genre into a space for deep existential inquiry, using her own body and life experiences as the primary subjects of her art. Kahlo’s self-portraits delve deeply into ideas of identity, pain, femininity, and the human condition within the context of her own life. They blur the line between the artist and the art, making her personal experiences an integral part of her aesthetic expression and philosophical musings on life, art, and identity. 

The Two Fridas attests to how art can encapsulate and express the complexities and contradictions of human existence. In this masterful piece, Kahlo confronts and communicates the multifaceted nature of her own identity and lived experiences through the depiction of her dual selves, embodying the philosophical idea that art is not just a reflection of life but is deeply intertwined with it. Kahlo’s work invites us to consider the profound ways in which our experiences shape our artistic expression and, in turn, how this expression can offer insight into our deepest selves, identities, and the human condition.