The remarkable portraits by Giuseppe Arcimboldo

Giuseppe Arcimboldo (1527-1593) was the son of an artist in Milan and worked on the design of stained-glass windows in Milan Cathedral and on frescos and tapestries for the cathedrals in Monza and Como. He moved to Prague in 1562 and for the next twenty-five years was employed by the Holy Roman Emperors Ferdinand I, Maximilian II and Rudolf II, working in both Vienna and Prague and painting portraits of them and their families. An example - Maximilian II, His Wife and Three Children – is shown below (upper). He also painted religious subjects and drew an excellent self-portrait that makes us puzzle about what he might be thinking about (below, lower). 

It is not these works for which Arcimboldo became famous, but his series of portraits that ingeniously, and strangely, used fruits, vegetables and fishes to represent facial features, jewellery and clothing (The Admiral is shown at the head of this article). In Vertumnus [Emperor Leopold II]  of 1591 (below, upper), that was painted two years before Arcimboldo’s death, we see that every feature is made up of vegetables, whereas the earlier portrait of a woman in Water of 1566 (below, lower), is made up of marine organisms. This was one of four paintings of the elements; the others being Air, Earth and Fire. We can assume that, as this style of painting was used by Arcimboldo for so many years, it must have been celebrated by the Court of the Holy Roman Emperors. 

As Kriegeskorte writes [1]:

The documents of the time bear witness to the fact that monarchs and his contemporaries in general were quite enthusiastic about his art. We do not know why there was a sudden turning point.. ..during his time at the Imperial Court, these tendencies were undoubtedly reinforced by his acquaintance with pictures by Bosch, Brueghel, Cranach, [Hans Baldung] Grien and Altdorfer.”

Many fishes in Water are easily identified and beautifully, and accurately, painted, although there is no consistency of scale between them, and we can assume that they were available in fish markets, were known to Arcimboldo from visits to coastal regions, or brought to Prague as curiosities [1]:

Prague had now become a major European cultural centre. But Rudolph II’s interest lay mainly in his Art and Wonder Chambers.. ..[that] contained everything that was regarded as exotic at that time, all sorts of unusual objects and animals:.. ..stuffed birds (from the world as it was known then), gigantic mussels, sword- and saw-fish, precious stones, demons imprisoned in blocks of glass, mummies, objects from the newly discovered continent of America, precious things from India and a whole zoo of exotic animals

If we look closely at Water, there are two animals that capture our attention, a walrus and a spouting fish (below, upper). These are very unlikely to have been seen by Arcimboldo and his inspiration must have come illustrations that he had come across, but what were these? The walrus may have been influenced by Dürer’s (1521) illustration (below, mid), especially in the prominence of the nostrils and the eyes. The jets coming from the partially-hidden spouting fish are very similar to those in the representation of a whale in Olaus Magnus’ (1539) Carta Marina (below, lower). Arcimboldo probably saw copies of both, as they are likely to have been talking points in artistic circles in the decades before he produced Water in 1566. This is my speculation, of course.

There is nothing quite like Arcimboldo’s “still life portraits” in the history of art and their strangeness, and skill of execution, had an influence on Surrealist painters centuries later, Salvador Dali basing his Le grand paranoïaque (below, upper) on paintings by Arcimboldo, after conversations about the artist with Josep Maria Sert, who designed sets for Diaghilev’s Ballet Russe [2]. Perhaps Dali was especially inspired by Eve and the Apple (below, lower)?

[1] Werner Kriegeskorte (2000) Arcimboldo Taschen, Köln

[2] Marijke Peyser: https://www.boijmans.nl/en/collection/artworks/4293/le-grand-paranoiaque

 

Learning about Picasso

For the past six weeks, I’ve been taking a WEA course on Picasso. Caroline Levisse, our tutor, has the happy knack of being informal, and inviting questions of those attending, while also having an in-depth knowledge of art history. As a result, the group had its own dynamic and it was interesting to hear what members had to say about Picasso, his life, and the many varieties of his art – from paintings, through sculpture, to ceramics and much else [1].

Most were very enthusiastic about what they saw, and we were all happy to acknowledge that Picasso was an extraordinarily talented artist and, probably, a great one. Others, while admiring his virtuosity, were left to question why they didn’t “get” some of his art, even that which was based on artists whose work they did react to positively. I was one of the dissenters, and was relieved when one of the class members said he admired Guernica (see above), but was not especially moved by it. His comment came as a relief to me, as I found it difficult to engage with much of Picasso’s work and I started to wonder why.

Since I was young, I have loved looking at paintings and have tried to interpret what I see. As an undergraduate, I made many visits to the National and Tate Galleries in London and attempted to learn more by listening to talks and by reading. Some paintings made an instant impact on me, some took more time, and some left me baffled. Regrettably, much modern art fell into the latter category, but I was bowled over by the large-scale paintings by Turner: one of them, Sun Setting over a Lake, is shown below.

In contrast to Picasso, Turner’s work focussed on the “essence” of the world around us. He had the skill to paint portraits and, as James Hamilton writes [2]: 

Turner’s education as an artist was running on a number of fronts in the early 1790s [when in his teens]. He followed the standard Academy tuition of drawing from casts of antique sculpture, in preparation for the Life Class, which he entered on 25th June 1792.. .. Through the evidence of two self-portraits made at the beginning and end of the decade, Turner had more than a passing interest in becoming competent in portraiture, and must have taken lessons in it. All this was available to every other ambitious artist of his generation; but what stands out in Turner’s case is the breadth of his interest, and his dogged refusal to specialise. At all times he kept a weather eye open for opportunities to make money out of his art. 

From Hamilton’s description, we see parallels with Picasso: both had a rare talent for several categories of painting (and Picasso had many other creative outlets) and both had an interest in the monetary value of their work. To this can be added their enjoyment of a messy studio, and a powerful impulse to draw and paint at every opportunity. Both were strongly egocentric and driven men and there is an interesting “compare and contrast exercise" for someone interested in those aspects of their lives.

In Turner’s works, people play an ancillary role to the landscape in which they are portrayed: in his classical works in the style of Claude, the distant figures give scale and this is true also of other works, like Snow Storm: Hannibal and his Army Crossing the Alps (see above), where the many members of the army give the scene a strong sense of the sublime. Picasso, on the other hand, used a strongly anthropocentric approach and most of his works featured portraits of one kind or another and, while the contents of houses had a role in providing a setting, landscape did not.

Is this why I find it difficult to appreciate Picasso’s work, while being moved by that of Turner? Is it that I find Picasso’s use of strong lines challenging and find the more diffuse shapes in Turner’s work easier to relate to? What is certain is that I am a Romantic and I have also been shaped by my career in biology, with over forty years’ of research on animals, plants, microorganisms, and the environment in which they live. While recognising that humans are unique, and very highly evolved, I am aware that we are animals that are intimately linked to the natural world, even though we can isolate ourselves from it. That form of thinking must have come early in my life, for I always liked solitary walks along the coasts and lanes of Devonshire while growing up. Maybe that is the root of my Romanticism and why I can respect Picasso as a great artist, but find his work puzzling?

[1] James Voorhies (2004) Pablo Picasso (1881–1973). In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/pica/hd_pica.htm

[2] James Hamilton (1997) Turner, a Life. London, Hodder and Stoughton.