Bosch Appreciation Post

Detail from Garden of Earthly Delights

There was no way that I was going to let October pass without mentioning my favorite historical artist, Hieronymus Bosch. Before I saw Bosch's artwork, I had no idea that artists from so long ago had such amazing imaginations and could invent hybrid monsters just as well as any sci-fi artist today. I fell in love with Bosch, as most do, with his famous painting, The Garden of Earthly Delights. However, this painting is just the tip of the iceberg for Bosch's creature design. 

I wish I had more time to talk about Bosch in detail, but, like most people around this time of year, I am still scrambling to get the last bits of my Halloween costume together. Are you still trying to figure out what to be? Check out these sketches by Bosch and maybe you'll find some inspiration!

My personal favorite

Judith and Holofernes

The Return of Judith to Bethulia, Sandro Botticelli, 1472

Speaking of beheading, let's talk a little bit about Judith and Holofernes. This classic Bible story tells of a beautiful, young, Jewish widow whom was called upon by her community to entice the Assyrian general, Holofernes, to withdraw his army from their siege on Israel. 

The story was particularly popular during the Counter Reformation because it upheld chastity and virtue in the symbol of Judith. Although asked to seduce Holofernes, Judith uses her wit instead of her body to trick Holofernes. She visits his tent over a course of three nights. On the third night she gets him abundantly drunk until he passes out - think Elizabeth Swan tricking Captain Jack Sparrow to drink himself to sleep on the marooned island. While he is asleep, Judith cuts off his head and brings it back to her town as a new hero. 

Judith, Jan Sanders van Hemessen, 1540

Many early depictions of Judith only show the aftermath of the beheading. Considered to be painted from the male perspective, some paintings show her nude and even as a femme fatale even though that goes against the message of the story. Caravaggio was the first painter to deviate from this tradition. He captures the psychological moment of the killing - providing a truer illustration to the Bible story. Judith holds the sword incorrectly, like a woman who had never held a sword before, which gives an authenticity to the moment. Caravaggio is the first to show the gore of the scene, though his blood is far from realistic compared to his usual naturalism. This Italian painter was inspired by Northern traditions, including the juxtaposition of young and old to emphasize the Neo-platonic virtues of the young and beautiful. 

Judith Beheading Holofernes, Caravaggio, 1598

Artemisia Gentileschi furthers Caravaggio's realistic approach to the Judith story. Her painting is an obvious emulation of his composition and style, but with a few touches that could only be captured from a woman's perspective. In this version, Judith is a common woman with dark hair and a strong build, similar to Artemisia's own body. Her glower is more believable for the act than the questioning look of Caravaggio's ideal beauty. In Artemisia's painting, the maid is not an onlooker, but actively takes a part in the murder, helping to hold down the struggling Holofernes. Artemisia's painting was actually commissioned by a woman, but her husband said it was unseemly for a woman to kill a man, and the painting was hidden away in a back hall until after his death. 

Judith and Holofernes, Artemisia Gentileschi, 1611

Artemisia was well known for painting female subjects through a gaze different than her male counterparts. The comparisons of such paintings make for an easily researched paper. So I will leave you to continue your research on your own. 

Resources: 
Doot Bokelman, "Art History Survey II" (lecture, Nazareth College, Rochester, NY, Spring 2012).
Doot Bokelman, "17th Century Baroque Art" (lecture, Nazareth College, Rochester, NY, Spring 2014).

Cannibalistic Rituals

I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a fan of horror films, especially not the “gore porn” of directors like Eli Roth. However, the recent release of The Green Inferno does open up a discussion on cannibalism.

Cannibalism is not just a figment of Hollywood imagination, but a real practice found in various indigenous cultures. Although no longer practiced, cannibalism was once a central aspect to the ancestor rituals of the Asmat people of New Guinea in the Papua province of Indonesia. 

The Asmat people believed that a man killed in war could not pass into the spirit world until his death was avenged. By killing a man from the opposing tribe, their ancestor’s spirit would be appeased and could rest in peace. The tribes believed that the seat of a man’s power was in his head. To transfer the power of the opponent to the ancestor’s spirit, the avenger must behead the opponent and return to the village. The clan would eat the flesh of the head to complete the cycle of revenge. Of course, if every death had to be avenged, this just created a constant cycle of war between opposing tribes.

The cannibalistic ritual is reflected in the art of this culture. Asmat ancestor poles were actually an integrated part of the ancestor rituals. While the constant cycle of war has ended, the ancestor poles have remained as a symbolic practice. A pole is built to honor the warriors lost in battle. The totems are carved from sago palms in remembrance of the first humans - who were believed to be carved from sago palms. The construction of an ancestor pole mirrors the act of head hunting. The sago palm is cut down and a man is beheaded. They peel the bark from the plant and skin the human. The sap is left to run dry just as the blood is left to run dry from the head.

Carvings on the pole continue the head hunting metaphor. Birds are shown eating the flesh of fruit like humans eating from heads. The bent knees of the figures represent praying mantises. Female praying mantises are known to rip the heads off of the males after mating. Phallic additions are representations of male power.

Each pole is accompanied by a head and the poles are positioned facing the water. Coastal tribes could align them right along the shoreline. The Asmat believed that water provided the route to the afterlife, so the poles sent the souls along this path. After the ancestor ritual was completed, the poles would be returned to the forest to decompose and return to the earth.

Asmat people, Bis Pole, Late 1950

You’ll notice that the ancestor poles from the Met are from the 1950s. I can’t be positive on these poles specifically, but it is common for still-surviving indigenous cultures to make “models” of ritualistic artifacts for museum collections instead of using actual ritual objects. I can only imagine this is true for the ancestor poles since part of the ritual is the decomposition of the pole. If the pole was placed in a museum, the pole could not decompose and the ritual would not complete its cycle – and the spirit would not be at peace. Additionally, since the poles are destroyed after use, uncovering a preserved historic pole would be near impossible.

Sources:

Doot Bokelman, "Art of Indigenous People" (lecture, Nazareth College, Rochester, NY, Spring 2013).

ART HISTORY SPOTTING:

Out of curiosity, I image searched ­Cannibal Holocaust­ – one of Eli Roth’s inspirations for The Green Inferno. In looking at the cover art for the movie’s VHS tape, I immediately recognized it as a play on Goya’s painting, Saturn Devouring his Children. Goya just so happens to be a contemporary to Fuseli, whom I wrote about last week – spooky stuff. Glad this Halloween theme is working out. 

Cannibal Holocaust vs. Goya y Lucientes, Francisco de, Saturn Devouring His Son, 1820-1823

The Nightmare

Happy October! Like so many, this is my favorite month and I can’t help but obsess over Halloween for its entirety. Ever since I started planning this blog back in May, I knew I wanted to do theme entries for October. So, this month I will be sharing the darker side of art history with you.

To start off, I’m going to go with the obvious: The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli. It's a fairly famous painting – I even have a Nightmare Encyclopedia that uses this as the cover image.  

Henry Fuseli, The Nightmare, 1781, oil on canvas, 180 × 250 cm (Detroit Institute of Arts)

Painted near the beginning of the Romantic Movement, The Nightmare reflects the public’s growing interest in mysteries and emotions. Artists had grown tired of religious and court paintings, and wanted to explore new subjects. Romanticism was also partly a response to the Enlightenment. Rebelling against rapid scientific discoveries, artists aimed to prove that science could not explain everything.

Artists and authors alike began to focus on dark emotions, especially that of fear (Gothic novels were on a rise.) In this painting, Fuseli captures the mystery of the subconscious and what happens while you are sleeping. The dark room acts like the hidden and dark places in our mind. The woman is long-legged and rubber-boned, making her seem surreal in her own right. However, clothed in white she seems innocent, making you concerned for the activities occurring during her unaware state of sleep. Not all innocent, her pose adds a sexual nature to the scene. The creature on her chest is identified as an incubus (the male counterpart to a succubus,) which were thought to rape women in their sleep. The horse in the painting is often attributed as a play on the word “Night-Mare,” but “mares” were also evil spirits of the night.

Fuseli left his painting open to interpretation. You can't really be sure if this is an allegory for unexplained sleeping troubles (night terrors, sleep paralysis, etc.), “true” happenings, or simply the dreams of this woman made visible.

Want to learn more? Check out this short essay on the painting. 

Sources:

Doot Bokelman, "Art History Survey II" (lecture, Nazareth College, Rochester, NY, Spring 2012).