Archives: 18th-19th C.
There is a small painting by Bellotto at the Chicago Art Institute – a view of a street in the small town of Pirna, Germany a short distance from Dresden – that I used to see every day when I was a student there and which always fascinated me.
If Pompeian still life frescos and Cubist still life paintings had a baby, Carlo Carra’s Natura Morta con la Squadra would be that child.
A number of years ago a well-known and influential New York art gallerist was brought to my studio by a private dealer I’d been working with.
He was not a particularly remarkable painter. There is no dazzling brushstroke or consummate gesture. They are paintings that get the job done and punch the clock.
I first saw Frederic Church’s “Twilight in the Wilderness” in 1996 on my first trip to Cleveland; I was wandering aimlessly through the galleries of the Cleveland Museum of Art when this painting stopped me dead in my tracks.
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, At the Moulin Rouge, 1892-1895, Oil on canvas, 48 x 55 inches I came to my artistic interests in a very particular fashion. I was born in New Bedford, Massachusetts a port town near Cape Cod. My parents married young - both had working...
Edouard Vuillard, Album, 1895, Oil on Canvas, 26 3/4 x 80 1/2 inches Every time I visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York I spend at least thirty minutes with Album, by Vuillard. It continues to fascinate me. The painting reads like a wave hitting the shore,...
My son’s breath warmed my neck as I lost myself in the wrinkle of his wrist. Blackness. Quiet. Then the skeleton.
“Our Banner in the Sky” is a painting made almost entirely of belief, which is why I liked it at first sight, in reproduction no less, advertising the Met’s 2013 Civil War and American Art exhibition in a newsletter.
John Auguste Dominique Ingres, La Grande Odalisque (Detail), 1814, Oil on canvas, 35.8 x 63.8 inches When I was eleven, my father, who had wanted to be a painter, but became a salesman after he married my mother, brought me a little book of drawings by Ingres. He said...
It was the intensity of her expression that arrested me: wild wide eyes absorbed by some otherworldly sight or sound.
I must have been eight or nine years old when my older brother brought home a small Skira book on Van Gogh.