No one would kick a Renaissance Painting By Debra Brehmer The recent crisis at the Milwaukee Art Museum on Wednesday April 4, where a 21-year-old Pewaukee man fell into a rage and kicked a hole in a Baroque painting and then ripped it off the wall and stomped on it, says something about Baroque painting. No one would kick a Renaissance painting. The Renaissance in the 1400s was a time of composure, logic, reason and harmonious mathematical perspective. Renaissance painting offered a polite window through the picture plane where the viewer could gaze reverently into a realistic rendering of an imaginary world. Formal distance and good manners were built into the very essence of Renaissance style And no one would kick a Rococo painting. The pretty frills of those pastoral scenes from the 1700s could never inspire anything by bucolic smiles and a longing for champagne. But Baroque painting is another story. If you’re going to kick a painting, a Baroque painting is a very good choice. The whole purpose of Italian Counter- Reformation painting of the 17th century was to incite action and passion. Caravaggio, the first real Bad Boy of the art world (soulmate to the Doors' Jim Morrison and a distant cousin of Kurt Cobain), was responsible for starting the “I’m in your face” school of painting in the 1600s. I believe we can credit Caravaggio with reversing the polite Renaissance window with an aggressive penetration of the picture plane where the imagery practically spills out of the painting and grabs you by the…whatever. Dark backgrounds, pared down compositions, large figures that look like scruffy real people and lots of virtuoso foreshortening are the stock elements of Southern Baroque. Compositions hang asymmetrically on diagonal lines that provide drama and movement. High contrasts in lighting reach operatically urgent pitches. The Catholic Church had been under attack for nearly 100 years when Caravaggio first swaggered center stage in Rome, shouting obscenities at his landlady and brandishing his sword. Records show that one night he hurled a plate of artichokes at a waiter who had responded too slowly to Caravaggio’s inquiry of whether they were steamed or boiled. That’s our boy. Caravaggio, for all his ‘issues,’ made paintings that pleased the church at least some of the time. The Catholic response to the Protestant “problem” was to support an art style that emphasized the urgency of the Church’s message and used realism to convince viewers of the veracity of miracles. The purpose of 17th-century painting was, quite simply, to lure the faithful back to the flock. Hollywood styled special effects were employed, be it blood, gore or dazzling perspectival tricks. Baroque painting used many of the same tactics as the current box office hit “300.” Ottavio Vannini, who painted the Triumph of David in 1640 (the painting that the Pewaukee guy kicked) comes out of this Counter-Reformation Italian tradition. But he was a bit of an odd duck in Florence. A second-stringer at best, Vannini, when he wasn’t employed making copies of paintings, clung to an old- fashioned classicism, à la the French painter Poussin or perhaps in line with the Bolognese family of painters, the Carracci. His paintings represented the crossroads of stylistic concerns in the mid-century. But unlike some of his more somber and Classical looking works, this Triumph of David, on loan to the Milwaukee Art Museum, distinctly smells of the corruptible breath of Caravaggio. Vannini apparently fell, at least momentarily, under the influence of Caravaggio: And that might be at the root of our recent problem. Just lingering behind that slightly drippy decapitated head that David proudly holds out to us is the taunting, even mocking shadow of Caravaggio saying “vaffanculo” or worse. Prior to the Baroque, David was generally featured quite proud and calm with no severed head in the picture or with it neatly tucked by his feet. But the Baroque period favored the high point of action and drama, so following Caravaggio’s lead, we get lots of several heads, be it Judith with Holofernes, St. John the Baptist or Goliath. Torture scenes of saints abound as well. But could this “in your face” quality of painting really have made the Pewaukee guy snap? First, he was apparently mentally unsound, which goes without saying. Secondly, he did tell the police that it was the imagery that he found disturbing. Yes, it was that severed head being offered from the picture right into the safe space of the museum, as if it was being held out directly and personally to him. Only Baroque painting invites us to take an active role. Obviously, the Pewaukee man was offended by the invitation. No one would kick a Renaissance painting. There’s no point. This is not to say Renaissance works haven’t been attacked. Michelangelo’s David and his Pieta sculptures have been assaulted and the Mona Lisa was vandalized in 1956. But this was different. They were not attacked because of content. They were attacked because of the art works’ iconic status. The nastiest assault on a painting in all of history was, of course, another Baroque painting. On June 15, 1985 in Leningrad, a man approached a painting of a fleshy, ripe reclining nude woman, stabbed it several times with a knife in the genitals and then threw acid on it. It was a painting by Rembrandt called Danae. The attack caused the painting to literally melt down. It has been restored to some degree but no longer looks like the original. Paintings are not such good things to kick or pour acid on for that matter. They have no defenses of their own and what does it really accomplish. Sure, your aggression finds a temporary release and you get a lot of attention, but it’s like stomping on butterflies. What’s the point? I guess though, if you are going to kick a painting, it makes sense that it’s a Baroque painting. Caravaggio would undoubtedly think this was very funny. He probably would have thought Vannini was a hack anyway. Debra Brehmer is co-publisher of Susceptible to Images. Comments? Email dbrehmer@susceptibletoimages.com For more on this incident and some sobering questions about museum security, see Bruce Murphy's recent piece in Milwaukee Magazine <<<<<Back to contents page Copyright 2007. Material may not be used or reproduced without the permission of the author. |
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| (Renaissnace painting) Raphael, Betrothal of the Virgin ("Sposalizio"), 1504. Oil on panel. |
| (Rococo painting) Jean-Honore Fragonard, The Swing, 1767. Oil on canvas. |
| Ottavio Vannini, Rebecca and Eliezer at the Well, ca. 1626-27. Oil on canvas. |
| Ottavio Vannini, David with the Head of Goliath. Oil on canvas. |
| Caravaggio, David with the Head of Goliath, c. 1610. Oil on canvas. |