The great Russian literary theorist, Mikhail Bakhtin, argued that culture can best be appreciated in terms of chronotopes, or slivers of time, that are synchronic (measuring events taking place at the same time throughout the world) rather than only diachronic (meaning events taking place one after the other). A Chronology of Culture (O Cronologie a Culturii, Editura Junimea, 2012), written by the Romanian intellectual historians Marian Gavrila and Minodora Perovici, does just that. This ambitious encyclopedic book shows the highlights of culture that occur more or less simultaneously, during each period of time starting with the beginnings of civilization around 45,000 B.C. to our day, around the world.
A Chronology of Culture is bound to please not only scholars, art historians and literary critics, but also anybody curious about cultural phenomena. In an age of the internet, blogging, ebooks and all kinds of online mass media deluge of information that risk engulfing culture, it’s wonderful to have a bird’s eye view of the best that has been preserved in human creativity–in art, literature and science–internationally, throughout human history.
The authors state on the back cover of O Cronologie a Culturii:
“A Chronology of Culture (O Cronologie a culturii) is dedicated to those readers who wish to access in the shortest amount of time the most information, offering them the tools, in an accessible format, to see a bird’s eye view of the synchronic evolution of human knowledge, internationally. In its nearly 10,000 entries, this work traces the history of creativity. It offers a synthesis of the evolution of human civilizations organized around key dates, presenting the masterpieces that have shaped our notion of “beauty” and defined our vision of the world. This wall of mirrors, which reflects the power of human imagination, presents a guide which, through its concise and dense comments and references, leads from the past to our present, opening the path to the future.” Marian Gavrila and Minodora Perovici
When you look at Rodney Smith‘s photographs you may think of René Magritte, the Belgian Surrealist artist known for his visual puns and, generally speaking, thought-provoking, “conceptual” images. Surrealist art, in general, combines the best of both worlds: a “realistic” representation of objects, which requires talent and technical skill, and a fantastic imagination that takes us past the threshold of the rational and the knowable, so we can explore the mysteries of the subconscious.
photo by Rodney Smith
Surrealism offers an escape from the real world yet also probes the depths of a perhaps truer and deeper reality: the reality of human desire; of our dreams and nightmares; of our hopes and fears; of our collective past and a visionary future we can barely imagine. Surrealism can also be playful: at least in the hands of an artist like Miró as well as in Magritte‘s linguistic imagination, whose paintings are filled with visual puns and paradoxes.
photo by Rodney Smith
Rodney Smith’s education and professional route is somewhat unusual for an artist. He earned a Master of Divinity in Theology in 1973 from Yale University, where he also studied photography with Walker Evans and developed a love for this field. Far from being stuck in the Ivory Tower, however, his highly successful photography has been commissioned by mainstream businesses such as American Express, I.B.M., Merril Lynch, the New York Stock Exchange and VISA (among many others).
photo by Rodney Smith
To call Rodney Smith’s Surrealism “eclectic,” as I do in the title of this introduction, may seem somewhat redundant. After all, Surrealist art is usually eclectic. Yet Rodney Smith adds so much Romantic flavor to many of his images–as well as playing with optical illusions, surprises and visual puns–that “eclectic” is the best term I found to describe his art.
photo by Rodney Smith
In fact, this is a term Rodney Smith uses to describe himself. Although art isn’t exactly autobiographical, I think that, in this case, there’s no better introduction to Rodney Smith’s quirky and eclectic Surrealist photography–which is filled with personality–than reading the witty and revealing description the artist provides about himself and his art on his website:
Daniel Gerhartz: The Beauty of Representational Art
by Claudia Moscovici, author of “Romanticism and Postromanticism” (2007) and co-founder of the postromantic art movement
The American painter Daniel Gerhartz is a contemporary master of representational art. Drawn to painting since adolescence, he studied at the prestigious American Academy of Art in Chicago. Gerhartz states that he learned a lot about painting techniques by studying the works of John Singer Sargent, Alphonse Mucha, Nicolai Fechin and Joaquin Sorolla. Gerhartz also goes on to say on his website, http://danielgerhartz.com, that he is particularly inspired by modern Russian art of Nicolai Fechin, Isaac Levitan and Ilya Repin because “their paintings are completely loose yet deliberate and faithful, not at all flashy.”
by Daniel Gerhartz
Although Gerhartz paints a variety of subjects, most of his works focus on the female figure, in diverse settings, ranging from the realistic and contemporary to idyllic pastoral and romantic. Going far beyond realistic representation or the celebration of feminine beauty, his paintings evoke emotion and represent important aspects of the human condition (such as love, loss, nostalgia, and mourning).
by Daniel Gerhartz
Although often inspired by contemporary life, Daniel Gerhartz’s art clearly continues, for our times, the legacy of the Romantic and Symbolist movements, in two main ways: 1) a technique that emphasizes verisimilitude as well as, quite often, 2) the depiction of idealized figures and settings. In what follows, I’d like to explore why this continuation of the Romantic and Realist traditions are important currents in ART TODAY. They not only add diversity to the wide range of artistic movements we can enjoy, but also preserve valuable artistic techniques that shouldn’t be dispensed with.
by Daniel Gerhartz
The aesthetic revolution that occurred during the twentieth-century is unprecedented in the history of Western art. Even the invention of one-point perspective and the soft shading that gives the illusion of depth (chiaroscuro) during the Renaissance didn’t change aesthetic standards as radically as the creation of non-representational, or what has also been called “conceptual” art. Since Marcel Duchamp we have come to believe that a latrine, if placed in a museum, is a work of art. Since Andy Warhol we have come to accept that brillo boxes and other ordinary household objects, if placed in a museum, are objets d’art. And since Jackson Pollock and the New York School of abstract expressionism we have come to realize that what may appear to be randomly spilled paint, globs and other kinds of smudges are not only artistic, but also considered by many to be the deepest expressions of human talent, thought and feeling.
Once art took a conceptual turn, it also became philosophical. As Arthur Danto argues in representational art what constituted “art” was more or less obvious. The only question that was always difficult to determine was: is it good art? By way of contrast, Danto explains, conceptual art compels viewers to think about the very nature of art. The postmodern answer to this question is not only philosophical–namely, that art is a concept because it cannot be identified visually, just by looking at it–but also sociological. Art is, as Danto himself declares, whatever the viewing public and especially the community that has the power to consecrate it–by exhibiting it in galleries and museums, buying it, writing books about it, critiquing and reviewing it, etc– says it is.
A priori, art can be anything. A brillo box, a toilet seat. But it isn’t everything for the simple reason that not everything is consecrated as art. What may seem, by older standards, to be art—such as contemporary Impressionist-style paintings–may not be considered art (but only cheap imitation) by the public or critics, while, conversely, what doesn’t seem to be art—a brillo box—can be perceived as the highest manifestation of artistic genius.
As noted, what makes twentieth- and twenty-first century art conceptual is the fact that what makes it be “art” can no longer be seen with the eye. We can’t see the aesthetic difference between the brillo boxes we discard and Warhol’s brillo boxes. Yet one is called trash and the other pop art. Clearly, it’s not the physical qualities of the object, but rather the assumptions of a community that determine what is (good) art. I cannot dispute this argument—made in different ways by Pierre Bourdieu and Arthur Danto–because, given everything I observe is being called art, I see it as the most compelling explanation of the term “art” as it’s being used today. Having conceded the artistic nature and value of nonrepresentational art, however, postromantic aesthetics argues that just because nonrepresentational art is valued doesn’t mean that contemporary representational art should be dismissed.
To explain the conceptual revolution that occurred in art at the end of the nineteenth-century and the beginning of the twentieth century, some art historians claim that photography eliminated the need for representational art, or the kind of art that tries to imitate “nature” by depicting faithfully what the eye can see. We can add in parentheses, as E. H. Gombrich observes in The Story of Art, that the notion of the representation of what the eye can see has changed throughout the history of art. Needless to say, it too is shaped by social assumptions. Nonetheless, the difference between a kind of art that aims at faithful visual imitation of the three-dimensional qualities of physical objects and one that doesn’t remains relatively easy to discern.
For instance, even without reading the descriptive title of the painting, it’s clear to tell by just looking at Renoir’s Girl Bathing (1892) that it features a nude girl bathing. Without its explanatory (or deceptive) title, however, it would be impossible to know what Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 1 (1911) is supposed to represent The last thing that might occur to those who look at it–if it were not for the title–is that it shows a nude.
The invention of photography had a lot to do with the move away from visual representation. To say that photography eliminated the need for representational art, however, is an overstatement. Undoubtedly, the invention of the camera encouraged artists to experiment with other means of representation in the same way that the invention of machines displaced hand-made crafts. The camera probably did for painting what the industrial revolution did for artisanship. But that doesn’t mean that artisanship–or hand-made beautiful objects–are no longer valuable. For what the human imagination, sensibility, eye and hand can create will always be somewhat different from what can be made with the aid of machines. The texture, sense of color and vision that are captured by painters are not identical to those that photography can produce, even though photography can bring us closer to visual reality and even though photography can be artistic.
Verisimilitude, or the true-to-life physical representation of objects, already existed in classical Greek, Hellenistic and Roman art, all of which rendered the beauty, movement and sinuosity of the human body especially palpable in their breath-taking sculptures. In classical Greek and Hellenistic art in particular, the human body conveyed (what was perceived as) the essence of beauty: the glorification of divine powers and aesthetic ideals were embodied in the human form. While Greek paintings and especially sculptures showed knowledge of human anatomy, movement and foreshortening, it’s Renaissance artists who discovered the two other key components of verisimilitude in painting: one point-perspective and shading, which give the illusion of three-dimensionality to two-dimensional painted forms. Gombrich and other art historians credit the architect Filipo Brunelleschi with the invention of one-point perspective as it was enthusiastically adopted by Italian Renaissance painters. Perspective entailed the application of geometrical principles to convey in painting the relative size of objects in terms of their distance from one another and from the viewer. (The Story of Art, 228-9).
The most famous Renaissance artist, Leonardo da Vinci, added another dimension to making the objects represented in art seem almost real. His most famous painting Mona Lisa is said to deceive the viewers into believing that the woman’s eyes move, returning and even following their gaze with her eyes. Likewise, many have speculated about the meaning of Mona Lisa’s ambiguous smile, whose lips have a mobility that renders her at once impenetrable and expressive. Leonardo was able to achieve these complex visual and psychological effects through the technique called sfumato, or the smoky blurring the contours of the object depicted—especially the corners of Mona Lisa’s eyes and mouth—to leave their outline and expression more open to interpretation.
The study and representation of human anatomy and of nature, foreshortening, capturing human movement and expression, one-point perspective and the creation of soft shadows which give the illusion of three-dimensionality to painted forms — all these techniques which took centuries to develop–have the magical effect of making objects represented by art come to life before our eyes. This kind of naturalistic art is not necessarily “realistic” in the sense of capturing human life as it actually is. For instance, some of the paintings of the surrealists were realistic in their anatomically accurate and three-dimensional representation of the human body, but fantastic in their rendition of reality.
Romanticism and Postromanticism by Claudia Moscovici
In its preference for visual resemblance (as opposed to realism or plausibility), my own art and aesthetics movement, POSTROMANTICISM, which I co-founded with the sculptor Leonardo Pereznieto in 2002, argues that the artistic techniques that give a sense of three-dimensionality and life-like quality to art are difficult skills that require both patience and technical talent and that are worth preserving and appreciating in art today. There’s no reason to discard the masterful qualities that made art artistic for five hundred years. Nor do such techniques have only a purely historical value. In an artistic world that prides itself upon pluralism, openness and variety, artists who desire to continue the legacy of realistic representation should be able to coexist with those that have rejected it.
by Daniel Gerhartz
The postromantic movement–and representational art in general, of which the work of Daniel Gerhartz is a prime example–represents not a rival, but an alternative to modern and postmodern conceptual art. For in a world of such diverse tastes and sensibilities, there’s certainly room for both.
Ekaterina Belinskaya’s international success offers a pretty good argument that innate talent can sometimes be more important than experience. At the young age of 24, this Moscow-based artist is already one of the foremost fashion and artistic photographers in the world. In 2012, Belinskaya won the Best Photographer Award 2011 (first place in Advertising Photography Awards).
photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya
Originally trained as an ecologist, she was nevertheless drawn to the arts, particularly photography. Legendary photographers such as Tim Walker and Helmut Newton have inspired her, but her style is her own. Each image she creates begins to tell a story, often staged as a fairy tale, that the viewers continue in their own imaginations. As is the case with most fairy tales, there’s both beauty and danger in her photos.
photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya
Belinskaya’s images usually feature strickingly beautiful women, in period costumes often reminiscent of the Gothic era, yet so tastefully staged and designed that they suggest a timeless elegance. As is apparent in theRaven series, the symbols of danger create the tension and the drama in the image. The beautiful woman is not depicted, however, in a stereotypical fashion as a victim that needs to be saved by a courageous prince. She’s a complex and dual creature: feminine, beautiful and strong, yet containing within herself the danger and lure of the bird of prey beside her.
photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya
The Raven series alludes to Edgar Allan Poe’s famous narrative poem by the same name, which was first published in 1845. More intricate and complex than a fairy tale–as is, in fact, Ekaterina Belinskaya’s photography itself–this symbolist poem traces a man’s gradual fall into madness as he converses with a raven about the loss of his lover, Leonore. Rather than consoling him, the bird of prey incites his despondency in various ways, including by repeating the word “Nevermore,” to reinforce the idea that he’s separated forever from the woman he loves.
photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya
While Belinskaya’s (poe)tic photography is even more open-ended in possible interpretations than Poe’s poem, it evokes similar feelings: the darkness of danger embodied by the bird of prey and the stark, somber surroundings; an atmosphere that combines great beauty and implicit menace, which is subtle and rich enough that it can’t be stereotyped as “Gothic” or any other genre, for that matter.
photo by Ekaterina Belinskaya
Each of Belinskaya’s series of images tantalizes not only the senses but also the imagination. I believe that, like the artists who inspired her, this young photographer will be a legend in her field. You can view more of Ekaterina Belinskaya’s art on her website, below:
Sebastian Luczywo photography, The Great Migration
inspired by M. C. Escher
Quirky, mathematical, interdisciplinary, engaging us in thought experiments, visual paradoxes and mental puzzles, the art of M. C. Escher continues to inspire artists around the world. Most notably, the photographer Sebastian Luczywo makes many visual allusions to Escher’s art, which remains very popular to this day. Recently, the Escher exhibition in Brazil became, according to Blouin Art Info, “the world’s most popular art show,” drawing tens of thousands of viewers. (Blouin Art Info, April 13, 2012) Part of Escher’s continuing popularity can be explained in terms of the universal appeal of his art, which attracts those who love art and those who love mathematics or science alike. Like Picasso and Brancusi, in many respects Escher was an autodidact. He had little formal training in mathematics.
M. C. Escher
In fact, Escher discovered his passion for geometry, topology and visual paradoxes almost by accident, thanks to his travels to Alhambra, Spain. Escher was fascinated by the intricate, mathematical designs—or tessellations–he saw in the architecture of Alhambra, whose interlocking repetitive patterns of design would inspire much of his artwork.
M. C. Escher tessellation
The word “tessellation” comes from the Latin term “tessera” or small stone cube. “Tessellata” were the mosaic geometric designs of mosques (in which the representation of people or “idols” was strictly forbidden) as well as of Roman floors and buildings in general. Escher’s designs would “interlock” many objects–including his famous representations of fish and various critters–in fascinating patterns that create the magic of optical illusion.
M. C. Escher
Sebastian Luczywo’s photography sets into play tessellation patterns, reminiscent of the art of M. C. Escher, but gives them a metaphysical twist. In the photograph The Great Migration (see image at the top of the page), for example, we not only see the physical reflections of leaves in the pond in a manner similar to Escher’s art, but also a metaphysical reflection on the passage of time. Luczywo catches a moment in the life of a family reflected in the water, with one of the children holding a large clock. No matter how much photography may freeze this moment in time, time will flow on. The children will grow and move on to create their own lives; the parents will age. Photography attempts to immortalize a moment–and an important stage of our lives–that is, in fact, very fleeting. Personally, when I see this image it makes me think of the following implication: if we can’t live and appreciate each of these stages of our daily lives in the present, we will lose them forever, except in the images of our memories and art. But, of course, photography, like all art, is open-ended, not limited to any given interpretation. What you see reflected in this (or any) image is largely up to you as a viewer.
Like Escher does in some of his artwork, most notably Waterfall Up and Down, Luczywo stages provocative inversions and displacements, where objects, animals and human beings aren’t where we’d expect them to be. The world is topsy turvy, as it were, and nothing conforms to our expectations. For instance, in one of Luczywo’s photographs, the child is in the dog house and the dog stands outside of it. In another, a child pops up unexpectedly from underneath the train tracks; in yet another, The Birth of Music, a violin emerges from cupped hands in a wheat field.
Sebastian Luczywo photography
In an article on Dodho.com, Sebastian Luczywo explains some of the reasons behind these unexpected twists: “I am in favour of being interested in the world, searching for new things, reaching for something you haven’t experienced so far. That is why I do my best to make my portfolio rich and diverse, not monotonous at all, as monotony attracts neither me nor my receipients I create my works for.” (http://dodho.com/sebastian-luczywo-photography/)
Sebastian Luczywo photography
One of the effects or these surprising perspectives and role reversals is to defamiliarize the familiar, which, paradoxically, makes us appreciate the every day images, people and objects depicted even more. We may be inured to them when we see them in familiar ways and settings, but Sebastian Luczywo’s images, like M. C. Escher’s art, help us see our world with fresh eyes.
I find it rather extraordinary that we commemorate through art important historical events, war heroes, authors and political leaders, yet we rarely commemorate in art what is most important to most of us: our family lives and our children. During the 19th and 20th centuries, depicting children in art was usually relegated to female painters (most notably, Mary Cassatt and Berthe Morisot) or depicted with unsettling undertones of sexuality, as is the case in Balthus’s controversial paintings.
The figurative painter Mark Lovett commemorates through his beautiful paintings and photographs what matters most to so many of us: our children. Mark Lovett depicts children, particularly girls, during the years (between 3 and 12) when they are old enough to appreciate family activities yet young enough to still enjoy the company of their parents. The subject of family and children is inherently personal, so I will mention one personal note, which is part of the reason why I’m so touched by Mark Lovett’s art. I remember with great fondness the many activities my husband and I did with our children, Alex and Sophie, when they were younger: apple orchards, zoo trips, museums, Renaissance fairs, art camps, cub scouts, hiking and vacations in so many beautiful places around the world. The kids, and their joie de vivre, added enormous pleasure and sense of meaning to our lives.
by Mark Lovett
Because this part of childhood and family life lasts roughly ten years, it’s easy to have the false impression that it will never go away. Yet like everything beautiful in life, it’s ephemeral and it passes. As the children grow up, you can relive your their early years and the joy they brought to your family in your memory, in your heart and, if you’re fortunate, in great artwork like the one created by Mark Lovett.
by Mark Lovett
Mark is a graduate of the University of Maryland, where he studied figurative and portrait painting at Nelson Shanks’ Studio Incamminati in Pennsylvania and of The Art League School in Alexandria, VA. As you can probably tell by looking at his realist paintings, Mark finds inspiration in the old masters. He is particularly influenced by the works of Bouguereau, Sargent, Renoir and Monet. He employs many of their techniques, particularly in depicting his subjects in a realistic fashion. Yet ultimately, like all great painters, he has his own unique style.
by Mark Lovett
Mark’s works depict children in an unsentimental fashion that nonetheless evokes the best experiences many of us have of our family lives. His backgrounds tend to use bold strokes, while his figures themselves–the children–are very finely painted, with a delicate touch that captures their individual features and expressions.
As you can see on his website,http://www.marklovettstudio.com/,Mark has won numerous awards including: 2006 Portrait Society of America Children’s Portrait Competition; MD Annual Art Show and 2005 Rockville Art League Art Show Winner. His works have been featured in numerous magazines, including Washington Spaces Magazine 2007 and 2006; Who’s Who of Strathmore Worldwide 2007-2008; Preview Magazine Art Expo, NY 2007; Strathmore Applause Magazine cover 2006; Art Business News Magazine 2006 and 2005. You can view his works primarily in his own studio, MarkLovettStudio, as well as in several galleries in the U.S. and Europe, including the prestigious gallery Galerie Pierre in France (http://about.me/GaleriePierre). Thanks to Mark Lovett’s talent and works, we can commemorate our children’s most fun and memorable years through art, as well as in our lives and fondest memories.
Like many scholars of my generation, I have lived through the “culture wars” in the arts and humanities, marked by the rise and critique of poststructuralist and postmodern theories. My personal view on these so-called “culture wars” is that life’s too short to focus on the negative. Why get bogged down in largely academic debates, when there’s so much of value in art and culture? Early on in my career as an art and literary critic, I made a conscious decision to concentrate on the aspects of art, literature and scholarship that I believe make major contributions to culture internationally. This is what the postromantic art movement, which I co-founded with Leonardo Pereznieto in 2002, is all about.
“If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough” Albert Einstein
The inspiration I found in the writing of art historians/aesthetic theorists E. H. Gombrich and Arthur Danto kept me going along this positive and constructive path. In my opinion, their books set the highest standards in expository writing in the arts and humanities. Both of them felt equally comfortable writing for a large general audience as for a smaller group of specialists. In fact, they wrote different books for these different audiences. Though highly respected for their scholarship, both Gombrich and Danto are best known for explaining art history and aesthetics to the general public in a simple, clear and engaging manner. They abide by one of the most famous sayings attributed to Albert Einstein—“If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough”—which, I believe, should be a mantra for expository writing in the arts and letters (creative writing being, of course, another matter).
E. H. Gombrich and “The Story of Art”
Gombrich put into practice his belief that clarity, logical elegance and simplicity are the best ways to communicate ideas about the history of art. Although the author is appreciated among scholars for his later theoretical works, The Sense of Order (1979) and Art and Illusion (1960), which present a psychology of perception and explain the artistic process, his best-known and best-selling work is, by far, The Story of Art (1950). Originally intended as a high school textbook, the book is written so simply and clearly—and it reveals such a genuine appreciation of art–that it quickly became very popular with the general public. Translated into 39 languages, this introduction to art history has been a bestseller for over 50 years, selling over six million copies worldwide. “This is a book which may well affect the thought of a generation,” The Times Literary Supplement declared in 1950. This high praise turned out to be an understatement. The Story of Art has influenced many generations and, I predict, it will continue to do so.
Aside from its clarity, simplicity and eloquence, this book explains cogently and persuasively how the artistic process works. It also introduces the most important artists and art movements of Western civilization. E. H. Gombrich declares from the start: “There really is no such thing as Art. There are only artists” (“The Story of Art,” New York and London, Phaidon Press, 15). By this the author means that art has no timeless standards of value or beauty.
There is no essence that encompasses that which different periods and cultures call artistic. Rather than trying to capture the essence of art, Gombrich focuses instead on the particularity of artistic movements and the accomplishments of individual artists. Which is not to say that he leaves aesthetics to the philosophers. His descriptions of artistic movements interweave the texture that holds groups of artists together under a dialogue of assumptions, perceptual problems they are working on, innovations, economic possibilities and modes of representation.
famous Picasso quotes
“Learn the rules like a pro so you can break them like an artist” Pablo Picasso
Although written for a general audience, and therefore in a much simpler more accessible style, The Story of Art is not worlds apart from his best-known scholarly book, Art and Illusion: A Study in the Psychology of Pictorial Representation. In both books, Gombrich describes the creative process from a psychological—and hence social–perspective. He contends that artistic creativity is never fully original. In fact, originality didn’t become important until the Renaissance and didn’t become the main artistic standard until the nineteenth century. But no matter what period we are considering, no artist reinvents the wheel, Gombrich contends. Each artist inherits artistic conventions (which he calls “schemata”) and selectively incorporates some of the techniques of established artists that came before him (or her).
This doesn’t mean, of course, that new art is a simple regurgitation of the past. Rather, the past—with its diverse styles and traditions—offers inspiration for new generations of artists. This leaves a lot of room for creativity. The best artists abide by Pablo Picasso’s famous quote, “Learn the rules like a pro so you can break them like an artist”.
M. C. Escher
According to Gombrich, artistic creativity consists of a trial and error process of experimenting with former techniques and inventions to create something fresh and new for your times. His main contribution, however, is that he manages to make even indifferent readers appreciate art. There’s no way to describe, without having the pleasure of reading The Story of Art, how Gombrich’s clear, simple and eloquent writing style captures readers’ attention and imagination, making us fall in love with art. This is any art historian’s greatest achievement.
Arthur Danto and “Encounters and Reflections: Art in the Historical Present”
Arthur Danto has a unique background that prepares him equally well to be both philosopher (of art and aesthetics) and art critic/historian. He thrives in both fields, which are not only close, but also complementary. The field of aesthetics explains the underlying structure of art: what is art; how is it created; what is an artist; how does art reach an audience; what are the relationships between art and other fields, like sociology, religion, psychology and life in general. Art history touches upon all of these questions, since the works of every artist are, simultaneously, a creative process, a form of knowledge, an expression, and a contribution to society (even if for some, like the Dada movement, it’s just to negate meaning, “high art” and knowledge).
Like Gombrich, Danto expresses his ideas and theories equally well for both a large mainstream audience and for a small group of specialists in art and aesthetics. From 1984 to 2009, Danto was the art critic for The Nation. For many years, he also taught philosophy at Columbia University, where he is now Johnsonian Professor Emeritus in Philosophy. He’s known as one of the most effective and earliest proponents of postmodern art. In fact, he introduced Andy Warhol to the general public before he was (in)famous.
In most of his theoretical work, Danto explains the rise of conceptual art. His artistic heroes are Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol, who arguably contributed most to make art what it is today: aesthetic in the critical and reflexive ideas it raises about art, not in the way it represents objects. Duchamp’s urinal and Warhol’s brillo boxes, Danto argues, are not artistic in their materiality. There’s nothing intrinsic to these objects that makes them different from ordinary household objects. Their aesthetic qualities, Danto suggests, lie in the way their make us question the nature and existence of art in a radically new and provocative way.
The millennia-old Platonic tradition of understanding art as some kind of inferior mimesis or imitation of reality is clearly gone in such ready-made objects and pop assemblages. Gone is also the equally old tradition, famously initiated by Plato and resurrected by the Romantics and even by Gautier, of art as a special, almost daemonic, inspiration that leads to the creation of beauty. Last but not least, in reading Danto we get the impression that the notion of creativity and originality, so vehemently defended by Emile Zola, remains in artists such as Duchamp and Warhol, but is hard to match after them.
Once originality is pushed so far as to eliminate the intrinsic qualities and extrinsic social functions of art, what’s left of aesthetics? Does art even continue to exist as a separate domain of creativity? Even Danto, the philosophical defender of pop art before it became popular, is not optimistic about the future of art. In After the End of Art (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1998), Danto sees no innovation possible after the destruction of the aesthetic object. Tracing the path to this destruction and seeing if it can be, in some ways, reversed or pushed beyond the current impasse hence presents a real challenge.
Encounters and Reflections by Arthur Danto
As is the case with Gombrich, Danto’s writing is most effective—and moving—in his art criticism. Encounters and Reflections: Art in the Historical (Berkeley, University of California Press, 1997) contains many of his vivid art reviews published in The Nation between the years 1986 and 1990. In these essays, the aesthetic philosopher takes a back seat to the art historian. Danto reveals the wonders of the greatest artists in the history of art, from old-time favorites such as Van Gogh and Klimt, to relative newcomers—and two of his personal favorites–Warhol and Mapplethorpe. Accessible, clearly written, poetic in style, and reflecting not only a deep appreciation of art history but also a genuine love of art, Gombrich’s The Story of Art and Danto’s Encounters and Reflections continue to enlighten countless readers and set the highest standards for expository writing in the arts and humanities.
The French writer Francoise Sagan once said “Art must take reality by surprise.” I think that applies especially to the art of photography. Photography today shares with architecture a double function: it must be both pragmatic and sublime. Buildings combine form and function. They must stand no matter how artistic and innovative they may be from an architectural point of view. Likewise, the best fashion photography of our times is innovative, surprising and stunning and at the same time very practical and flexible. It conforms to the advertising needs of each client while also staging a new invention and offering a novel surprise in each photo shoot.
Andrey Yakovlev and Lili Aleeva
Few combine the pragmatic and creative functions of photography as well as Moscow-based photographer Andrey Yakovlev and art director Lili Aleeva. World-famous for the gorgeous models, elegant fashions, inventive sets, and above all creative photo series that never fail to surprise and impress viewers, Yakovlev and Aleeva raise the bar for contemporary artistic photography.
Andrey Yakovlev and Lili Aleeva
Some of their photo series deliberately mimic the diverse styles of classical, realist, romantic, art nouveau and modernist paintings. We see echoes of Ingres, of the pre-Raphaelites, of Bougureau, of Klimt and even of Picasso’s blue period in some of their images.
Andrey Yakovlev and Lili Aleeva
In other series, they set a subversive tone, pushing the limits of our imagination. In yet others, they emphasize feminine beauty and glamour. In most of their photo series, Yakovlev and Aleeva stage a set and create a drama, through the postures, gestures and facial expressions of the models.
Andrey Yakovlev and Lili Aleeva
These expressions surprise us rather than simply imitating life in a repertoire that we’re already familiar with. The poses are not realistic; they’re dramatic and statuesque.
Andrey Yakovlev and Lili Aleeva
These images take our breath away through their stunning beauty and capture our attention through an undefinable element of surprise that characterizes the best artistic creations. You can view more of Yakovlev’s and Aleeva’s beautiful photography on the websites below:
The L. A. based photographer Herbert (Herb) Ritts (1952-2002) bridged the gap between artistic photography and commercial fashion shoots. His work shows that photography can be highly commercial without losing its originality, signature style and aesthetic value.
Herb Ritts
Ritts is known around the world for his iconic black and white portraits of celebrities–including Brooke Shields, Diana Ross, Britney Spears, Madonna, Julia Roberts, Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell and Nicole Kidman. His photographs are simple, elegant and statuesque, in poses that transcend our fashions and times and deliberately imitate the style of classical Greek and Roman statues.
Herb Ritts
In the course of his long and successful career, Ritts has photographed for some of the most prestigious fashion magazines, such as Esquire, Mademoiselle, Glamour, GQ, Vogue and Elle. The elegance, simplicity, starkness (his images are usually black and white) and timeless, statuesque poses of his fashion shoots and portraits make them stand out as works of art.
Herb Ritts
Ritts has also directed music videos, including Madonna’s “Cherish” and Michael Jackson’s “In the Closet”. He passed away in 2002, at the age of 50, due to complications from pneumonia. In the fall of 2012, the Getty Museum commemorated Ritt’s beautiful artistic legacy with an exhibit of his photography called “L.A. Style”. You can see more of his fashion photography and famous portraits on his website below:
In 1899, the controversial Austrian symbolist painter Gustav Klimt, also associated with the Art Nouveau movement, displayed his starkly sexualized painting, Nuda Verita, with a famous quotation from Friedrich von Schiller: “If you cannot please everyone with your deeds and your art, please a few. To please many is bad.” By the end of his life, a period which is referred to as his “Golden Phase” because of the gold leaf the artist incorporated into his later paintings, Klimt had attained a level of international success that certainly pleased countless viewers.
The Kiss Gustav Klimt
The Kiss (1907-08) became one of the most famous paintings in the world and remains a favorite among art lovers. But, in its origins, neither Klimt nor the Art Nouveau movement aimed to please many. Art nouveau, which means quite literally “new art” in French, was an international movement at the turn of the nineteenth century in art, design, interior décor, jewelry and architecture. The artists associated with this movement attempted to bridge the gap between art and nature by incorporating into their works, in a stylized fashion, the motifs we commonly find in nature: leaves, flowers and winding vines. The most famous artists associated with this tradition—Gustav Klimt, Alphonse Mucha, Antoni Gaudi and Louis Comfort Tiffany—each left his unique signature fingerprint upon this increasingly popular art movement.
Richard Burlet the new Art Nouveau
There are certain art movements that never go out of style: Art Nouveau can be counted among them. Highly stylized yet in harmony with nature; ornamental yet profoundly philosophical; sexually daring and controversial yet utterly refined, Art Nouveau continues to please and surprise many, even if–to return to Klimt’s citation of Schiller–that is not its main objective.
Richard Burlet the new Art Nouveau
Richard Burlet is one of the most striking and appealing contemporary artists invigorating for our times the Art Nouveau tradition that I have encountered. French of origin, Burlet was influenced by French and Viennese art, particularly—and not surprisingly, if we glance at his work—by the paintings of Gustav Klimt. He studied at the prestigious Ecole Nationale Superieure des Beaux Arts for a few years, then began his career as a painter. Burlet’s paintings incorporate gold and silver leafs, oriental designs and vibrant colors. His striking portraits are as beautiful and iconic as they are individuated.
Richard Burlet the new Art Nouveau
Although Burlet’s style is certainly inspired by the Art Nouveau moment, each portrait is different, expressing a unique personality that seems to flow from—and blend into–the carefully chosen ornamental details. The largely artificial aesthetic distinctions between art and design; depth and surface; background and foreground; originality and imitation are put to the test—and, ultimately, rendered meaningless—by Richard Burlet’s breathtakingly beautiful art, much as they were by Klimt, his inspiration and precursor. You can view some of Burlet’s paintings in art galleries around the world as well as online, on the following website:
