It takes a split second these days to create an image, and how many millions are recorded daily on mobile phones, possibly never to be looked at again? You can see it all happening in the palatial surroundings of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, definitely one of those tick-off destinations on many travellers' bucket lists, where those in search of instant pictorial satisfaction throng the imposing statue-lined staircase for a selfie or pout for a photo in the café under the spectacular cupola. But we're not in Vienna for a quick fix, we're at the KHM to admire something more enduring in the shape of art produced almost 500 years ago by Rembrandt and his pupil Samuel van Hoogstraten that was intended to mislead your eyes into seeing the real in the unreal. Artistic deception is the story at the centre of Rembrandt--Hoogstraten: Colour and Illusion , one of the most engrossing and best-staged exhibitions we've seen this year. And, somewhat surprisingly, a show wi...
This bust of Charles II in British Baroque: Power and Illusion at Tate Britain really does capture the essence of the Baroque -- extravagant, flamboyant, full of movement, full of drama.
The Stuart King's head turns one way, his lace cravat swings in the other direction. Underneath, a swirl of drapery; on top, a wig that could almost be a coiled mass of snakes or a basketful of twisted pastries. It really is quite magnificent.
This ostentatious concoction early on in the exhibition was the work of a sculptor for whom Charles never actually sat: French-born, Genoa-based Honoré Pelle. And indeed, though this is a show about how the largely Protestant British aristocracy dipped its toe into the very, very Catholic world of Baroque art in the late 17th and early 18th centuries over the reigns of the late Stuart monarchs, from Charles II to Anne, much of the work you'll see is by foreign artists, Italians, Germans and Dutch among them.
And if there's one of those rulers that really was Baroque through and through, it's Charles II, as you may already have seen in a show at the Queen's Gallery in London a couple of years back. Charles was only too aware of how to use art, architecture and sculpture to express the power of the restored monarchy after the interregnum under Oliver Cromwell.
In The Sea Triumph of Charles II, by the Italian Antonio Verrio, Charles is a modern-day Neptune, the Roman god of the sea, riding in a shell-shaped chariot through the waters in which his ships have defeated the Dutch navy. The inscription compares him to the Roman Emperor Augustus....
It really was an age of artistic exuberance: Charles presented this gilt and silver ceremonial vessel to the Company of Barber-Surgeons. It's in the form of an oak tree, of the sort in which he was supposed to have hidden from Parliamentary troops on one occasion during the Civil War. The hanging acorns would have jingled when the cup was empty.
The opening couple of rooms of this fairly extensive show are quite fascinating. We learn about the use of religious imagery to underline one's status at the period. Here is Charles's principal mistress, Barbara Villiers (Wikipedia lists nine mistresses in total), presented by the King's painter, Peter Lely (Dutch), in the guise of the Virgin Mary. With her son, then, as Christ.
Which, taken to its logical conclusion, would make Charles II God....
Just along the wall, Charles's eldest illegitimate child, James, the Duke of Monmouth, is depicted by Jacob Huysmans (Flemish) as John the Baptist. How did they get away with this stuff, you wonder. Didn't anyone see it as blasphemous?
Shocking in a very different way is the picture of another of Charles's mistresses, Hortense Mancini, Duchess of Mazarin, as Diana by Benedetto Gennari (Italian). As goddess of the hunt, she's controlling her hounds and her servants. But the black slaves who attend her all have similar collars to those worn by her dogs.
This second room of the exhibition has an entire wall of court beauties painted by Lely (as ever, they look virtually identical with those doe eyes), and also, at the other end, a series of portraits of often quite small girls, essentially on offer to serious bidders as suitable future wives. Henrietta and Mary Hyde, for example, by Willem Wissing (Dutch) presents the sisters in adult clothing with love attributes such as a dove and roses, but more importantly, they have serious aristocratic pedigrees.
While there's an awful lot of socio-historical interest here, you do feel you're rather getting away from the point of the exhibition, which is the Baroque, and it's at this point that the show becomes quite a bit less engaging.
To be sure, there's a very nice room devoted to trompe l'oeil, very much in fashion at the end of the 17th century. But Baroque is surely in your face, while trompe l'oeil is quite the opposite, something that's actually rather delicate and subtle. Samuel van Hoogstraten (Dutch) was the master of the genre, and you can enjoy several of his creations here.
To move on, there's some absolutely stunning woodcarving by Grinling Gibbons (born in Holland), some society beauties by Michael Dahl (Swedish) and Godfrey Kneller (German) and some really rather dull paintings of battles and military heroes. It all seems to peter out in the reign of Queen Anne, who was perhaps not as interesting as The Favourite might have you believe.
But hang on, what's this over-the-top equestrian portrait? That sword, those horse furnishings.
Read the wall caption and you learn that this is an Equestrian Portrait of a Lord Mayor of London painted in about 1700 by John Closterman (another German, by the way). But bizarrely, you're not told the really interesting story about this picture, which is that it normally hangs in the Banque de France, which bought it in the 1920s because it was thought to depict a French prince, and that researchers have only recently worked out its real identity.
To sum up, this is a show that starts out full of grand designs but rather fizzles out. Some interesting art and history to appreciate, but it could certainly have been a lot better.
Antonio Verrio, The Sea Triumph of Charles II, c. 1674, The Royal Collection/HM Queen Elizabeth II
Attributed to Richard Morrell, Royal Oak Cup, 1676, The Worshipful Company of Barbers, London
Peter Lely, Barbara Palmer, (née Villiers), Duchess of Cleveland with Her Son as the Virgin and Child, c. 1664, National Portrait Gallery, London
Benedetto Gennari, Hortense Mancini, Duchess of Mazarin, as Diana, c. 1684, The Ramsbury Manor Foundation, Wiltshire
Samuel van Hoogstraten, Young Man Reading in a Courtyard, 1662-66, Private collection
John Closterman, Equestrian Portrait of a Lord Mayor of London, c. 1700, Banque de France, Paris
This ostentatious concoction early on in the exhibition was the work of a sculptor for whom Charles never actually sat: French-born, Genoa-based Honoré Pelle. And indeed, though this is a show about how the largely Protestant British aristocracy dipped its toe into the very, very Catholic world of Baroque art in the late 17th and early 18th centuries over the reigns of the late Stuart monarchs, from Charles II to Anne, much of the work you'll see is by foreign artists, Italians, Germans and Dutch among them.
And if there's one of those rulers that really was Baroque through and through, it's Charles II, as you may already have seen in a show at the Queen's Gallery in London a couple of years back. Charles was only too aware of how to use art, architecture and sculpture to express the power of the restored monarchy after the interregnum under Oliver Cromwell.
In The Sea Triumph of Charles II, by the Italian Antonio Verrio, Charles is a modern-day Neptune, the Roman god of the sea, riding in a shell-shaped chariot through the waters in which his ships have defeated the Dutch navy. The inscription compares him to the Roman Emperor Augustus....
Just along the wall, Charles's eldest illegitimate child, James, the Duke of Monmouth, is depicted by Jacob Huysmans (Flemish) as John the Baptist. How did they get away with this stuff, you wonder. Didn't anyone see it as blasphemous?
Shocking in a very different way is the picture of another of Charles's mistresses, Hortense Mancini, Duchess of Mazarin, as Diana by Benedetto Gennari (Italian). As goddess of the hunt, she's controlling her hounds and her servants. But the black slaves who attend her all have similar collars to those worn by her dogs.
While there's an awful lot of socio-historical interest here, you do feel you're rather getting away from the point of the exhibition, which is the Baroque, and it's at this point that the show becomes quite a bit less engaging.
To be sure, there's a very nice room devoted to trompe l'oeil, very much in fashion at the end of the 17th century. But Baroque is surely in your face, while trompe l'oeil is quite the opposite, something that's actually rather delicate and subtle. Samuel van Hoogstraten (Dutch) was the master of the genre, and you can enjoy several of his creations here.
If we associate the Baroque with anything in Britain, it's surely grandiose architecture: St Paul's Cathedral and the Royal Naval Hospital in Greenwich by Christopher Wren and Blenheim Palace by John Vanbrugh above all. The ceiling of Greenwich's Painted Hall, executed by James Thornhill, has recently been restored and is absolutely stunning.
They're all touched on in this show, but there are only a few architectural drawings and models and sketches to give any hint of these wonders (and a dark photo of the Painted Hall). A few minutes of video -- a medley of British Baroque's Greatest Hits -- would not have gone amiss. Astonishingly, there's no mention at all of the remarkable Baroque church interior at Great Witley in Worcestershire, described as Britain's finest. And without wishing to sound in any way nationalist or chauvinist, Wren, Vanbrugh and Thornhill were actually British, rather than foreign imports.
To move on, there's some absolutely stunning woodcarving by Grinling Gibbons (born in Holland), some society beauties by Michael Dahl (Swedish) and Godfrey Kneller (German) and some really rather dull paintings of battles and military heroes. It all seems to peter out in the reign of Queen Anne, who was perhaps not as interesting as The Favourite might have you believe.
But hang on, what's this over-the-top equestrian portrait? That sword, those horse furnishings.
Practicalities
British Baroque: Power and Illusion is on at Tate Britain until April 19 and is open daily from 1000 to 1800. Full-price tickets cost £16 and are available online here. You'll want to give yourself a couple of hours to take everything in. The nearest London Underground station is Pimlico on the Victoria Line, about five minutes' walk away.Images
Honoré Pelle, Charles II, 1684, Victoria and Albert Museum, LondonAntonio Verrio, The Sea Triumph of Charles II, c. 1674, The Royal Collection/HM Queen Elizabeth II
Attributed to Richard Morrell, Royal Oak Cup, 1676, The Worshipful Company of Barbers, London
Peter Lely, Barbara Palmer, (née Villiers), Duchess of Cleveland with Her Son as the Virgin and Child, c. 1664, National Portrait Gallery, London
Benedetto Gennari, Hortense Mancini, Duchess of Mazarin, as Diana, c. 1684, The Ramsbury Manor Foundation, Wiltshire
Samuel van Hoogstraten, Young Man Reading in a Courtyard, 1662-66, Private collection
John Closterman, Equestrian Portrait of a Lord Mayor of London, c. 1700, Banque de France, Paris
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