Tranquility in Turner

THE feeling one experiences in nature - picturesque, open and tranquil - one experiences here in his art.

The feeling the artist once has felt in front of nature, one experiences here in front of his works in the heart.

Turner, the most beloved British artist, has always been regarded as an audacious figure whose boldness could be well seen in his most experimental and dramatic paintings. However, in the exhibition 'Late Turner' at Tate, some of his watercolours reveal a most tranquil quality that is usually not seen in the turmoils of his seascape, fiery and vortical oil works and have really touched me.

FIRST, have a look at Lake Lucerne- The Bay of Uri, from Brunnen (Fig. 1), which is also the first watercolour in the exhibition that grabbed my eyes. If I am not told it is a watercolour by Turner, the first thing that will come to my mind would be a Chinese ink painting, regardless of the colour of the ink. That was exactly how I felt at the first sight of it. I was surprised by the atmospheric effect, the various light shades, the simple, almost calligraphic, outlines of the ships and shipmen - all these seem to be the quality of a Chinese ink painting, but actually were done by the most innovative English painter of the early nineteenth century. Another watercolour (Fig. 2) in Room 2 also unfolds a very charming and moody feeling of the night.

Fig. 1 Lake Lucerne- The Bay of Uri, from Brunnen, c. 1841-2, watercolour on paper (photograph provided by Tate)

Fig. 2 Fishermen on the Lagoon, Moonlight, 1840, watercolour on paper (photograph provided by Tate)

Turner's widely and talented use of watercolour has lifted up this medium, which used to be inferior to oil paint for centuries, to an unprecedented height and finally to reach an independent state of being in British society of art. Interestingly, because of Turner's favour of watercolour alongside his oil paint production, his watercolour and oil works have shown strong interractional influences. Many of his watercolour works resemble the quality of oil paintings and could be seen as a work of art in its own right, due to his use of rich colours, his occasional application of thick gouache or other materials that make the work less transparent, and the finished look of the watercolour works. Vice versa, many of his oil paintings also resemble the quality of watercolour works, from the mirror-like translucency of the Ancient Rome (Fig. 3) to the lightly touched late work Norham Castle, Sunrise (Fig. 4), all revealing a special quality of translucency and fluidity similar to watercolour works. Whether it was consciously done or not, it seems that what Turner tried to achieve through this common quality in both mediums is an atmospheric effect of nature - a feeling you get in a day of mist, a feeling you get when you half-close your eyes, a feeling you get from your memory back at your place, or a feeling you get in your heart. That is why the sky and the sea blend with one another, that is why all you could see and remember is the colours, that is why the rays of the sun surmount everything and the mist in the air obscure what we see. Turner enjoys the dramatic look that nature unfolds itself just like the way he enjoys the visionary effect of art. With the sketchy touches, shapeless forms, blended mist, radiant light and overpowering colours , Turner expresses an impression, a mood that foresees the abstract means and expressive power of the modern art. These lyrical visions and poetic mood are well paired and compared with the poems of Byron, whom the late Turner admired and whose words Turner often inscribed.

Fig. 3 Ancient Rome; Agrippina Landing with the Ashes of Germanicus, exhibited 1839, oil paint on canvas (photograph provided by Tate)

Fig. 4 Norham Castle, Sunrise, c. 1845, oil paint on canvas (photograph provided by Tate) 

I USED to write an essay on Turner's watercolours between 1825 and 1838, preceding the works in this exhibition. Those watercolours in early years still mostly reveal brilliant colours, and many are composed of two or three colour zones. And as I watched them over and over again, I realised what Constable has said the 'golden visions' of Turner, 'glorious and beautiful...and one could live and die with such pictures.’ But some of the late watercolours shown in Room 6 of this exhibition show a different quality - lighter touch of colour, more translucent rendering of mountains and waters, and a sense of serenity. This tranquility I felt is all that made me write a blog. The Blue Rigi, Sunrise (Fig. 5), almost the first of a series of sample studies of Swiss landscapes, is one of the most beautiful piece. The first picture shown below (Fig. 5a) is from the official website of Tate, the colour of which should appear stronger in real life, therefore I include a second picture in the public domain (Fig. 5b) that may better present the original colour of the watercolour. It is truly beautiful and affecting, as anyone can see.

Fig. 5a The Blue Rigi, Sunrise, 1842, watercolour on paper (photograph provided by Tate)

Fig. 5b The Blue Rigi, Sunrise, 1842, watercolour on paper (photograph in the public domain)

Watercolours on the next wall are a series of sample studies with the view of Lake Lucerne. These sample studies are speculative drawings that Turner's agent, Thomas Griffith, showed to attract the interest of a circle of prospective patrons. Again, the images here offered from Tate's website (Fig. 6, 7, 8) are not identical to the original looks of the works one sees face-to-face. These images below appear lighter and more transparent than the original effects, and the last example (Fig. 8) should appear more fluid in real life. What has touched me is again the diluted washes and the translucent colours that create the atmospheric effect and poetic mood of the scene. The colour itself, especially the blue of the water, with different shades created by various layers of washes, is so pure and attractive that it seems to absorb you into its beautiful depth. The atmosphere seems to have the power to bring you into its little world of nature and back to the peaceful state of mind that you may have in front of the real nature. It is this feeling of tranquility that is very different from the dramatic, passionate feel of Turner's other works and has hooked me in this room of watercolours. These watercolours of Turner have created the same atmosphere and feeling that nature itself may effect on us.

Fig. 7 Lake Lucerne: Sample Study, 1844, graphite and watercolour on paper (photograph provided by Tate)

Fig. 7 Lake Lucerne: Sample Study, 1844, graphite and watercolour on paper (photograph provided by Tate)

Fig. 8 Lucerne by Moonlight: Sample Study, c.1842–3, watercolour on paper (photograph provided by Tate)

As the exhibition has summarised, watercolour is the medium that Turner had indisputably made his own. Though the exhibition is called 'Late Turner: Painting Set Free', I just want to bring to attention the opposite quality that the late Turner once has shown us through his watercolour works: the tranquility and mystery of nature.

Renaissance Italy

In late March, I went to Venice with our programme and then visited other cities like Florence and Milan. The trip was a travel back in time, a time that was one of the peaks of the human civilization.

The outside preserves the exterior; the inside houses the essence. All the works that are supposed to be the most renowned masterpieces shocked me - a shock that I felt more deeply than last year when I visited Rome. One really has to look at the real piece of work to be able to admire the awe of it. It was not until I saw the original artworks that I truly understood the beauty and greatness of it. Originals may also surprise you and make you fall in love with an artist you have not paid much attention before. This time, the one that surprised me and was also the first masterpiece that came into my eyes was the Frari Triptych of Giovanni Bellini (fig. 1).

Fig. 1 Frari Triptych, by Giovanni Bellini, 1488, St. Mary of the Fraris (Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari), Venice

My teacher said, 'This is the work that made me decide to become an art historian.' I went closer and observed carefully to see what it was that made it so special to her. The triptych is not very close from the viewer, but even from far away, it looks so realistic. The arch seems to be a real concave space. The figures are so naturalistic. The more you gaze at it, the more life-like the figures become. The saint in black seems to look back at you with his penetrating eyes. All the volumes of bodies and the sense of space are so real. Finally when you finish observing the main figures, your eye fall onto the angels at Virgin's feet. And you are attracted by them so much again. They look so lovely and real with on the same realistic steps that seem to extend into our space. My eyes lingered on the angels and the details, trying to see them as clearly as possible and did not want to leave.

The next day, we went to the church of San Zaccharia where I saw another Bellini's altarpiece, one of his late works, that was even more astounding and beautiful to me than the Frari one and is by far my favourite, favourite piece of him. The Virgin appears younger and prettier, and the two female saints beautifully drawn add to the sweetness and tenderness of this painting that made me like it more. Figures and the scene are integrated in one space instead of being separated by a triptych. And again everything looks so naturalistic. With the viewer being able to look at it much closer, I admired it better and more, and it was the moment that I truly saw the beauty of Bellini and was in love with him. It is the ultimate naturalism and the sweet idealism - of  especially the female figures - that are so touching.

Fig. 2 San Zaccharia Altarpiece, by Giovanni Bellini, 1505, San Zaccharia Church (Chiesa di San Zaccaria), Venice

Florence, the centre of the Renaissance, houses many of the best works of that time. I saw The Birth of Venus (fig. 3), the most celebrated work of another early Renaissance master Botticelli and probably also the most celebrated work of the Uffizi Gallery. It totally grabbed my heart no matter how many times I had seen it in books or on the screen. The experience of looking at the real painting is so different from that of looking at it from elsewhere. It was a wholly new experience as if I had never seen it before. Not only could I able to observe the details and the quality better, look at the colours more truly, but the sheer size of it also shocked me and contributed to the beauty of it - an experience and feeling I had every time when I looked at an original masterpiece. You will always be surprised by the size of a work, something out of your expectation, and then you will feel that the size of the work is just appropriate to make it a great piece of work. The same experience happens when I went into the refectory that houses the Last Supper of Leonardo. The sheer size of it shocked me first and the most, and it was also the size that made the work appear all the more wonderful; and only after that, after appreciating the scale of it, I started to scrutinize the details within such perfect scale of the work. Similarly, the size of The Birth of Venus appeared bigger than I thought which adds to the grandeur of the work, but not too big and looks just enough to render the heavenly figures, the details, and to emanate such a sense of beauty. The same face that I have been familiar with looks like a new beauty and evermore sweet. Even though the colour fads a bit, but it still looks so comfortable and harmonious. Only in front of the work did I realize the extremely sweet feeling that the figures brought to us and the wonder of the work. You would not feel the robot-like feels of the figures, not feel the little bit awkwardness of the gesture, nor the paleness of the skin; all you can feel is beauty and perfection. Venus, standing lively in the painting, right in front of and high above you, looks so charming. It was from the real experience that I really got to understand the sweetness of Botticelli which is manifested in every figure of him. Sweet, modest, and peaceful - a real beauty of the pure Renaissance.

Fig. 3 The Birth of Venus, by Sandro Botticelli, c.1484-86, Uffizi Gallery (Galleria degli Uffizi), Florence

A similar experience was when I visited Madonna of the Chair (fig. 4) of Raphael, the most famous work of the Palatine Gallery in Florence. It is almost a second painting along with The Birth of Venus that represent the art of Florence whose postcards are displayed everywhere in the city. Looking at the postcard, it was no more than a sweet painting of Raphael. But again, when approaching the real work, the beauty penetrated me. The delineation of the Virgin is so sweet, smooth, and perfect. The whole composition is so unusual but wonderfully contrived within the round frame. Moreover, the use of the primary colours and green make it rich in colour and beautiful, and it is unusual in the way of using the green - rarely as the main colour of a religious work, especially with the patterns on it, giving a humane feeling to the Virgin. Real beauty is real beauty; there is no way you could escape from it. It grabbed my eyes and I couldn't turn myself from it. Even though I walked away, I walked back as if it were a magnet. It is the idealization of the female beauty that made it so powerful and great. And underneath it, it is naturalism as well. And especially this painting has one of the most naturalistic figures of the works of Raphael, without traces of early-Renaissance robot-like feels and stiffness of face, but full of rounded, three-dimensional, and smooth features. It is sweet, perfect, and harmonious. It is again a sweet, calm representation of Renaissance, with a sense of humanity. The beauty of this painting seems to penetrate you more than that of Botticelli, because of the better naturalism and its near-perfection of the depiction of the figures and the very smooth, tender feel of the facial features of Virgin. However, it is too sweet and naturalistic that when you look at it longer, it is as if you were eating a sweet candy -sweet at the beginning, but the sweetness seem to be a bit too much as you have it more the more. Therefore for me, the sweetness of Botticelli, even though less naturalistic than that of Raphael, seems to be more long-lasting and comfy. But no one would doubt the reaching of perfection of Raphael, the ultimate idealism perfected by Raphael, and the penetrating otherworldly beauty of him - a beauty that shakes your heart and body and sticks your eyes and feet.

Fig. 4 Madonna of the Chair (or Madonna della Seggiola), by Raphael, 1514, Palatine Gallery (Galleria Palatina), Florence

After the trip in Italy, I am thinking again what it is that makes an art touching and great? What makes a masterpiece stand out among all the others? The things that made me fall in love this time in Italy are the naturalism, seen in its ultimate exemplification in Bellini, and idealism, developed all the way from early Renaissance to Raphael, the peak of the idealism and the High Renaissance, but each with their own interpretation of the ideal. Naturalism is the basis of idealism, because without the figures being naturalistic drawn, the beauty and idealism could not be build upon. Interestingly, these two features - the tendencies of naturalism and of idealism - are exactly the most significant and representative features of the Renaissance art as all the textbook and teachers once taught us. They are not only the summarized features, but are also the points that touched our hearts. Therefore, it seems reasonable the development of such trends, and it is legitimate for philosophers of the Renaissance to advocate such theories of art practices. The Neoplatonism prevalent in the Renaissance time proposed naturalism as the principle of art because God is in the image of a man, as well as idealism - the making of the ideally beautiful man as an approximate imitation of God's image, because God is in the image of a perfect beauty. These seem not only theoretical advices that come from nowhere, they are reasonable advocations, since even for me, a person totally detached from that context could be touched and feel the divinity expressed through the naturalistic and idealistic depictions - they give you a feeling of beauty and wonder, a feeling of nobility and purification, a feeling not only for admiring the beauty of art, but also of the world, of divinity, and of human ourselves. Art is not only a rediscovery of beauty, but a purification and sublimation of the self and the soul through beauty. I feel my heart is purified and glorified through the gaze at such ideal beauties. That is probably the ultimate aim of applying the principle of idealism based on naturalism.

The naturalism, idealism, and calmness make the Italian Renaissance all the more long-lasting. It is natural, so it does not disobey natural rules and it appears harmonious. It is ideal, so it sublimates the normal and glorify the divine, making it heavenly and eternal. It is calm, so it does not disturb the hearts and it relieve our soul. It is an art that wonderfully balances the symbolism and the humanity, and its harmony, divinity, and peace make it evermore lasting.

Frieze Masters 2013

I am so glad that I made it to the Frieze Masters today. It has inspired me so much that I want to write a blog about it.

The two galleries - De Jonckheere and Johnny Van Haeften - that I favoured the most in TEFAF 2013 - both exhibited at Frieze Masters this year. Again, they were still the best. The quality of almost all of their works were so consistently high that they gave you such an feeling of assurance of their works. And both of them specialize mainly in Northern paintings of the Renaissance and the 17th century. Last time in TEFAF, De Jonckheere Gallery impressed me the most with Pieter Brueghel the Younger's The inn St. Michel's (Fig. 1), Gijsbrecht Leytens' Winter Landscape (Fig. 2), and Adam and Eve (Fig. 3), etc. Most of the paintings were of such high quality equaling the museum pieces and were so unique in their composition and depiction that you rarely came across anywhere else. The composition of the northern paintings could be so random and creative and the representation sometimes a bit caricatured and fantasized, which makes them almost look like a modern picture or cartoon.

Fig. 1 The inn St. Michel's, by Pieter Brueghel the Younger's 

Fig. 2 Winter Landscape, by Gijsbrecht Leytens

Fig. 3 Adam and Eve, by the Master of the Embroidered Foliage

This time, at Frieze Masters, it was Johnny Van Haeften that struck me the most. It kept on acquiring some really good works. My favourite was a very small piece: Pieter Brueghel the Younger's Pissing at the Moon. It is of such an unusual subject as well as the composition. It plays with the Flemish Proverb that means to waste one's time on a futile endeavour. The colours are good. The details are fine. The composition - with the man pissing as the main subject and occupying most of the picture space - is truly unusual and modern-looking. The other work also by Pieter Brueghel the Younger, Spring (Fig. 4), showing people ploughing the land, is full of breath of life. The little dots of red, yellow, and white flowers in the foreground are so lovely and touching to me. Those are the details of life that probably only Northern artists would enjoy and depict. Willem van de Velde the Younger's Shipping in a Calm offshore with Figures on the Shore by a Rowing Boat, a Man-of-War lying off (Fig. 5) is such a common depiction of seashore and ship scene, but it stood out into my eyes, because when viewed closely, the extremely refined details on the panel were really extraordinary; not every painting of this subject would achieve such quality.

Fig. 4 Spring, by Pieter Brueghel the Younger

Fig. 5 Shipping in a Calm offshore with Figures on the Shore by a Rowing Boat, a Man-of-War lying off, by Willem van de Velde the Younger's 

Back at home, when I read the Financial Times, there was an article about Johnny Van Haeften's The Census at Bethlehem (Fig. 6) by Pieter Brueghel the Younger. It was the very big-scale painting hung at the centre of the gallery space at Freize Masters, drawing the public's attention. People watched it, talked about it, and used the large magnifying glass provided by the gallery to scrutinize it. It is the most sensational piece at Frieze Master this year, because it has been totally unknown for 400 years, because among the 14 versions of The Census at Bethlehem of Pieter the Younger, it is almost the closest, most characteristic one of Pieter the Elder, and because it is of exceptional high quality and 'amazingly good' condition. Reading the newspaper, I also came to know that it was actually the first time that Johnny Van Haeften exhibited at Frieze Masters, and that TEFAF and Frieze were the only two fairs that the gallery had exhibited at - Johnny Van Haeften said he was not an enthusiast of art fairs. I feel so lucky that I have visited the gallery at both the fairs and that it has drawn me such an attention.

Fig. 6 The Census at Bethlehem, Pieter the Younger

Another two galleries that were also standing out were Koetser and Richard Green. Interestingly, the works of them that I found the best were also Netherlandish ones. Koetser was always good and it kept presenting Giuseppe Arcimboldo's works, which drew most of the public attention. Its still life paintings were also of quite high quality. I was again struck by the extremely fine details of Jan Brueghel the Younger (?). His painting was so extraordinarily refined that definitely not every other still life painters could have achieved. Richard Green usually presents a broad range of paintings. This time, quite unusual to me, it exhibited some fine works of Sebastian Vrancx with again the vigor and joy of everyday life as well as the work of Aert van der Neer with his beautiful rendering of moonlight in the mysterious night scene.

The Northern Europe has such a fascinating history of art, with its extraordinary rendering of detail and nature, the humble and lively depiction of joy, sorrow, and labour work of everyday life with rich symbolism and proverbs - all the love for nature and life is touching indeed. Northern paintings are always so true to nature, never hesitant to reveal the realistic and the imperfect, but they also exaggerate and fantasize nature, creating imaginary and visionary views with abundant details and great originality. I'm also thinking about what it is in art that moves me so much. Today in Frieze Masters, it is the details that touches me and draws me to it. It is something technical - the fine details, and it is also talked about ironically sometimes that these fine details are simply imitation of nature, but I'm amazed how it could fascinate us that much. Other elements that I am thinking of that could touch us are beauty and harmony, like some of the Impressionist works, the colour and form, like Kandinsky's works. I think it is never a single element that draws us to art, it is a combination, a combination of all the aesthetic, stylistic aspects and personal attributes: the technique, the aesthetic eye, the emotion, the aspiration, and the heart behind. But the true masters have the gifts given by God.

Helen and Paris by David

BEFORE traveling to Paris at the beginning of April, I was worried about visiting too many museums and works in such a short time, because I want to examine the masterpieces slowly, I need time to absorb them, and I treasure the moment and the feeling when I see a work for the first time. However by the end, even though I did need to go pass some great works very quickly and some masterpieces might be neglected and overshadowed by other more brilliant ones, the visit still gave me new inspirations that led a new direction to go in my life. This time, it is the work The Loves of Helen and Paris (Fig. 1) by Jacques-Louis David in the Louvre. The influence is deep.

Fig. 1 The Loves of Helen and Paris, 1788, by Jacques-Louis David, Musée du Louvre, Paris

FALLING in love with David is something unexpected. Whenever I saw his Oath of the Horatti (Fig. 2) on the textbook or the screen before, I thought it is something historical, political, and revolutionary, but I didn’t see reasons I could love it more, since I thought I would love those with romantic subjects more. However, walking into the hall of David’s paintings in the Louvre, it totally changed my mind.

Fig. 2 Oath of the Horatti, 1784, by Jacques-Louis David, Musée du Louvre, Paris

It is the colour that captured my eyes first. The colours are not bright or sharp; they are rather pastel and very harmonious. The more I looked at it, the palette appeared more appealing to me. It made me feel so comfortable and reassuring that I wanted to gaze at them for long.

Then it is the composition. As is well known, David’s composition is brilliant. The compositional design is clearly seen. The painterly space is well defined by the architecture and the grouping of the people. No matter how many people are included in the painting or how big an event he is trying to depict, the spatial arrangement is always good, never too crowded nor scarce. That makes him so competent to depict grand historical scenes as well as indoor scenes with fewer people. And in the picture of historical events, there is always the sense of grandeur and full of masculinity. Here, I have to mention The Intervention of the Sabine Women (Fig. 3) . The composition, the crowds of people are again well managed by the frieze-like arrangement, the different degree of the sharpness of figures in the foreground and the background, and the emphasis of the several leading figures at the front. Hersilia, the girl in the middle dominates the whole canvas, whom I especially like. Her gesture is exaggerated, but is so powerful and elegant in a masculine way. She seems to not only control the tragic event by trying to stop the war, but also stretching out her arms, with her feet standing steadily, to direct and separate the whole canvas space, which is so interesting and effective. The white stands out too, feminine, pure, and peaceful. This painting shows the beauty of a female in a very different way; this special representation renders such a beautiful and powerful effect. I love it.

Fig. 3 The Intervention of the Sabine Women, 1796-99, by Jacques-Louis David, Musée du Louvre, Paris

Thirdly, it is the classicism. The classical architecture that helps form the background and the composition has beauty in its own. It fits the classical subjects, the classical-looking figures and draperies; and the dark neutral background also fits in with the pastel colour palette. Everything looks very harmonious and perfect. I tend to like and revere the classical elements more and more, because of their grandeur, their elegance, and their modesty, from which I start learning to appreciate the beauty of the classicism, the aesthetics that David adores and brings back to honor. David’s paintings let me know that it is not only the romantic ideas that could fascinate me, but the pure beauty of classicism could also capture my heart so much.

Finally, it is the romance in David. The one painting that is so different from others of David is The Loves of Helen and Paris (Fig. 4). It is not different as to its general style, but it is different in its mythological subject, its romance, and its very simple composition with very few figures. It is a relatively small canvas and it seems lighter in its historical weight than other paintings of David, but it stands out beautifully into my eyes.

Fig. 4 The Loves of Helen and Paris (detail), 1788, by Jacques-Louis David, Musée du Louvre, Paris

AFTER I came back from my traveling, I was still very obsessed with it for a long time. It is neoclassical in style, but it is also very romantic in a sense. The tenderness, romance, rosy colour, and curving form at the centre of the painting, and the heaviness, steadiness, coolishness, and straightness of the classical architecture merge perfectly into each other, forming a romantic while solemn scene. The lovers, with certain melancholy in Helen’s facial expression, make their romance not purely a sweet and carefree one. The heaviness and other philosophical implications of it make its beauty more long-lasting and contemplative than, like, Rococo romance.

I read into the symbolism, myths, and classical references of the painting, all of which enrich the meaning and elevate my understanding to a new level, and they make me totally obsessed with classicism – this time, not just the neo-classicism of David, but the real classicism of ancient Greece and Rome, the myths, epics, sculptures and wall paintings. Reading the gods’ stories, I am touched and excited. The narrative itself, even not in a poetic form, is like a song full of rhythm and beauty. It makes me want to follow the rhythm to read the poetic narratives. The culture of the ancient Greek seems not totally spiritual or didactic, but there is always a sense of romance associated, no matter if it is a love story, comedy, or tragedy. Gods are not perfect beings; with desire and wrath, betrayal and revenge, they reveal their human sides.

The ancient sculptures and wall paintings are as well, showing high level of naturalism and elegance. Not until I looked at some of the sculptural works had I not realized how similar the figures in the classicized paintings resemble the ancient sculptures. I thought the beauty of Helen and Paris is of David’s own creativity, but actually they all have prototypes long before in the history, at least as inspiration. And the more I look at them comparatively, the more I see how close they are in their posture, volume, muscularity, hairstyle, and facial beauty, almost everything. Gradually I even feel that the figures in the paintings seem to be the Greek statues or relieves having been removed from their original site to the canvas instead of being painted by a more recent hand. Helen in this painting is actually resembling the pose of an Athenian relief: Athena Mourning (Fig. 5), especially her feet. By imitating Athena, David also implies the sadness of Helen and alludes to the tragedy of Troy^[1]. Another classical reference is the setting of the painting. David uses a real contemporary scene as the background of the painting – the caryatid room by Jean Goujon (1510-1572) in the Louvre (Fig. 6) which was used in the 1780s to exhibit the royal collection of Greek and Roman sculpture, to pay homage to the French Renaissance sculptor Goujon, whose Fountain of the Innocents (Fig. 7) was rescued from demolition and moved in the 1780s^[2]. The reliefs of the nymphs on the Fountain are so intricate and beautiful. Their postures and draperies are much more complex than those of Helen and Paris. I am astonished at their beauty and high craftsmanship of the sculptor; they are high point of the classicism of Renaissance art.

Fig. 5  Athena Mourning

Fig. 6 The caryatid room in the Louvre, by Jean Goujon

Fig. 7 Reliefs on Fountain of the Innocents, 1547-50, by Jean Goujon

Through neoclassicism, I learn to appreciate the beauty of the antique sculptures and start to truly understand the spirit of classicism. It is also through the comparison that I feel amazed at how fundamental the influence the culture of ancient Greece and Rome has on the art and culture of the West throughout the history. David’s art has opened a door for me, and I’m starting to explore more the poetry and romance of the Greek culture.


References:
[1] Dorothy Johnson, David to Delacroix: The Rise of Romantic Mythology (Chapel Hill: UNC Press, 2011), pp. 31-32.
[2] Ibid., p. 30