Titian spent his early years in Pieve di Cadore, in the Veneto region. He came from a well-off family—his father was a militia captain and mine inspector.
At the age of 9 or 10, he was sent to Venice with his brother to study art.
A Versatile Artist
Titian received extensive artistic training, first apprenticing in the workshop of Sebastiano Zuccato, a mosaic artist. He later shifted toward painting, working alongside the Bellini brothers and Giorgione, who became his friend.
Titian also mastered woodcut engraving. He excelled in portraiture and oil painting on canvas but also worked on fresco murals.
Influence of Bellini and Giorgione
Under Giovanni Bellini, one of Venice’s most prominent artists, Titian learned to emphasize the richness and vibrancy of colors. Giorgione, on the other hand, was more interested in the subtle tonal transitions seen in Leonardo da Vinci’s work. Titian was deeply influenced by Giorgione, collaborating with him on frescoes for the Fondaco dei Tedeschi. After Giorgione’s death, it is believed that Titian completed many of his unfinished works, possibly including Sleeping Venus.
A Highly Personal Style
Self-portrait of the Italian painter Tiziano Vecellio (c. 1490-1576), better known as Titian.
Despite these influences, Titian quickly developed his own distinctive style, combining grandeur with delicacy. His works are characterized by the predominant use of light, which enhances the vibrancy of his colors. His naturalistic portraits highlight the subject’s personality and psychological depth rather than their outward status. In mythological works like Venus of Urbino, he desacralizes divine figures by making them more personal and human.
Sensual Female Nudes
More naturalistic than symbolic, Titian painted highly expressive and seductive female nudes, such as Woman with a Mirror, Venus of Urbino, and Danaë. Many of these figures are depicted reclining on a bed. At the time, it was considered appropriate for newlyweds to have nude paintings in their chambers, as they were believed to encourage fertility. After the death of his wife, Cecilia, it is unclear whether Titian remarried. However, in the 1530s, his depiction of the female form evolved toward a slimmer ideal, as seen in La Bella.
The Mannerist Period
Titian closely followed the Mannerist movement, which emerged in Italy as a reaction against the High Renaissance’s humanist ideals and pursuit of perfection. Mannerism sought a new artistic sensibility by breaking traditional rules of composition and color harmony. Influenced by the Mannerism of Giulio Romano, Titian abandoned the naturalistic vision of his compositions in favor of a more dramatic and expressive approach, marked by dynamic movements, as seen in Cain and Abel.
The Allegory of Prudence
Allegory of Prudence (c. 1550–1565)
One of Titian’s lesser-known yet original works, Allegory of Prudence, depicts three faces representing different stages of a man’s life—youth, maturity, and old age. Below them, a three-headed beast (wolf, lion, and dog) symbolizes prudence in relation to time. The leftmost head is believed to represent the artist himself, who often painted self-portraits. Created during his later years, this painting exemplifies his growing interest in darker themes.
Dramatic Late Works
In the final stage of his life, Titian, then nearly 90 years old, experienced personal losses, including the deaths of his brother and son. This tragedy is reflected in his later works, which explore sorrow and express intense emotion. In The Flaying of Marsyas (1576), he conveys cruelty and suffering with a stark contrast between dark tones and harsh lighting. His late paintings demonstrate his quest for new artistic expression, increasingly focused on the tragic.
The Glazing Technique
Titian mastered the technique of glazing, which involved applying thin layers of lightly tinted varnish over a painting. This method preserved the luminosity of the underlying colors, enhancing depth and richness. He worked by layering from darker backgrounds to vibrant highlights, creating astonishing chromatic effects that brought a striking naturalism to his figures. His signature style extended to his use of broad brushstrokes and even his fingers to refine his compositions.
The Master of the High Renaissance
Titian achieved great success, first in Venice, where he painted portraits of various doges, and then across Italy, with patrons including princes and popes. His fame extended beyond Italy, as he received commissions from royal figures such as Francis I of France, Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, and Philip II of Spain. His vast body of work and artistic mastery were celebrated both during his lifetime and after his death. Titian remains a defining genius of 16th-century Italian painting.
Poussin’s genius lay not only in his talent but also in his innovative techniques. Before painting, he would sculpt small wax figurines, dress them in fabric, and place them inside an optical box. He arranged them in layers and projected light onto different painted backgrounds to create multiple perspectives for his compositions.
In 1629, while suffering from an illness, Poussin was taken in by Nicolas Dughet, a Parisian pastry chef living in Rome. During his convalescence, he met Anne-Marie Dughet, the pastry chef’s daughter, who was 27 years younger than him. They married that same year, and Poussin adopted her two brothers, including Gaspard Dughet, who later became known as Gaspard Poussin, a renowned landscape painter.
He Was Considered the New Raphael
Poussin first encountered Raphael’s masterpieces while visiting royal galleries. Fascinated by the Italian master’s perfect technique, he meticulously studied his paintings at the Royal Library. When he arrived in Rome, his work was immediately compared to Raphael’s, earning him the nickname “The New Raphael” or “The Raphael of France.”
One of His Paintings “Slept” in the Louvre’s Reserves
In 2014, the Louvre Museum reassessed a painting that had been stored in its reserves for a century. Previously dismissed as an imitation of Poussin due to its lighter subject matter, the painting was re-evaluated and confirmed as an authentic Poussin. The piece, titled Mars and Venus, was restored and displayed for the public in 2015.
A Possible Secret Code in His Paintings
Self-portrait by Poussin, 1650
Poussin painted the famous Latin phrase “Et in Arcadia ego” in both versions of his work The Shepherds of Arcadia. While this phrase translates to “I am also in Arcadia”, some theorists believe it conceals a hidden message. They suggest it is an anagram for “I ! Tego arcana dei”, meaning “Go! I hold the secrets of God.” This has led to speculation that Poussin possessed esoteric knowledge, possibly even the location of Jesus Christ’s tomb.
In 1624, Poussin fulfilled his dream of moving to Rome. However, his rising fame attracted the attention of King Louis XIII, who summoned him back to France in 1639. Poussin refused, despite a letter from Sublet de Noyers, the king’s minister. In response, the king dispatched Paul Fréart de Chantelou to fetch him. Under pressure, Poussin returned to France, where he was warmly received and named Painter to the King. Nevertheless, he returned to Rome in 1642, unable to resist its artistic allure.
He Likely Suffered from Parkinson’s Disease
During the last twenty years of his life, Poussin experienced hand tremors and ataxia, symptoms now associated with Parkinson’s disease. However, since the condition had not yet been identified, historical records never refer to it by that name. Despite his worsening health, Poussin continued to paint until his death, though some of his later works appear slightly blurred and imprecise.
His Tomb May Also Hide a Secret
Some researchers believe that Poussin’s tomb holds an esoteric mystery, similar to those suggested in his paintings. The tomb, commissioned by Chateaubriand, features The Shepherds of Arcadia, a painting already suspected of containing a hidden message. Additionally, its Latin epitaph translates to: “He is silent here, but if you wish to hear him speak, it is astonishing how he lives and speaks through his paintings.” This cryptic inscription has fueled speculation about an undisclosed secret.
Chateaubriand Commissioned a Monument in His Honor
Poussin was buried in 1665 at San Lorenzo Church in Rome. Over 160 years later, in 1828, French writer François-René de Chateaubriand, then the French ambassador in Rome, commissioned a monument in tribute to the painter. He enlisted French artists from the Villa Medici to create it. The monument includes a bust of Poussin, an inscription, and an engraving of The Shepherds of Arcadia.
He Depicted Multiple Moments of a Story in a Single Painting
Poussin had a favorite painting among his works: The Judgment of Solomon, completed in 1649. This masterpiece captures the entire biblical story in one frame. The painting depicts the moment two women appeal to King Solomon to decide who is the rightful mother of a surviving child. Every detail is meticulously placed: from the king’s pointing finger, delivering his verdict, to the protective gesture of the true mother, and the accusatory hand of the false mother. Nothing in the composition is left to chance.
The painter’s early religious-themed works exhibit characteristics reminiscent of the pictorial technique of his first master, Fra Filippo Lippi, under whom he studied for three years until 1467. Lippi favored a linear composition with highly refined and elaborate decorations. Filippino Lippi, the son of his master, would later become Botticelli’s most renowned pupil.
From a Modest but Not Impoverished Family
His father, Mariano Filipepi, worked as a tanner, ensuring the family’s livelihood. Young Botticelli displayed an insatiable curiosity for culture and art. He initially trained as a goldsmith, like one of his brothers, before fully dedicating himself to painting. His pictorial style was heavily influenced by his mastery of manual arts such as goldsmithing and chiseling, evident in his keen attention to contours and intricate details.
Botticelli’s Close Ties to Humanist and Neoplatonist Thinkers
Gaining quick renown in Florence, Botticelli moved within an elite intellectual circle. He interacted with Neoplatonists and was inspired by the dominant humanist movement at the Medici court.
These influences are reflected in his paintings, which incorporate Greco-Roman mythology and a linear grace that emphasizes purity and virtue.
A Painter Obsessed with the Pursuit of Absolute Perfection
As both a humanist thinker and a man of faith, Botticelli sought the sacred. He did not dwell on human weaknesses but instead depicted an idealized moral journey where goodness and beauty merged. His canvases abound with Madonnas, goddesses, rich colors, and delicate transparencies.
However, amidst this languid perfection, occasional glimmers of anxiety and doubt emerge, hidden within an enigmatic gaze or a darker background. In his relentless pursuit of the absolute, Botticelli eventually became almost fanatical and reclusive.
A Celebrated Painter, but Unrecognized in Rome
Probable self-portrait of Botticelli, in his Adoration of the Magi (1475).
As a protégé of the Medici, Botticelli enjoyed significant fame during his lifetime in Florence. Pope Sixtus IV summoned him to Rome to contribute to the decorations of the Sistine Chapel alongside other renowned painters. Between 1481 and 1482, he painted three frescoes illustrating various biblical episodes in the medieval tradition. However, his work was not well received, possibly due to the ongoing rivalry between Florence and Rome. Disheartened, the artist decided never to leave his native city again.
Celibate, Romantic Lover, or Homosexual?
Botticelli never married, dedicating himself entirely to his art. Contemporary rumors suggested he had little interest in women and was widely believed to be homosexual. However, he did form a platonic and romantic attachment—akin to that of a painter to his muse—to Simonetta Vespucci.
Simonetta, Botticelli’s Venus
Simonetta Vespucci was considered the most beautiful woman in Florence at the time. She arrived in the city at 15 and married Marco Vespucci before becoming the lover of Giuliano de’ Medici. Botticelli also fell under her spell and began sketching portraits of her. Tragically, she died at just 23. The painter immortalized her as a flower nymph in Primavera and as the ethereal Venus in The Birth of Venus, capturing her alabaster skin and flowing Venetian blonde hair. Upon his death, Botticelli was buried at his request near his muse.
Venus and Mars: The Victory of Love Over War?
Using Simonetta as his model and Giuliano de’ Medici as Mars, Botticelli painted Venus and Mars in 1483. The artwork depicts the god of war in a languid state of rest while Venus watches over him, her gaze slightly anxious.
With her long, braided hair and a translucent white gown adorned with golden trim, she embodies the purity of love. Yet, the painting carries an undertone of sensuality, with her lover’s idealized nude form sculpted by the painter’s brush.
Botticelli, A Devoted Admirer of Dante
Botticelli deeply admired the works of the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. He spent years creating drawings to illustrate The Divine Comedy, including The Map of Hell with its various levels of damnation. He also attempted to write a book on Dante, but the project remained unfinished.
A Religious Fanatic, Crippled and Forgotten
By the 1490s, Botticelli became a follower of Savonarola, the Dominican friar who led Florence in a religious purge, burning anything deemed vain, including mirrors, paintings, and ornaments. Under this influence, Botticelli’s work took on a mystical tone, reflecting his growing religious fervor. Throughout his life, he had been reckless with money, and he eventually found himself destitute and physically infirm. His artistic style became outdated with the rise of new masters like Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Raphael. Botticelli’s work faded into obscurity for centuries until the 19th century, when the Pre-Raphaelites and Romanticists revived his legacy.
During an exhibition of his paintings, the artist wanted to discreetly observe the reactions of the Royal Academy’s examiners by positioning himself in a nearby room. One of the examiners carefully studied his works, then approached Chardin and told him he had just seen some very good paintings and now wished to see his own. To this, the artist replied: “Sir, you have just seen them.”
A Remark Pushed Him to Paint More Than Still Lifes
After Chardin mentioned to a fellow painter that any sum of money was appreciated, even for a portrait, his friend replied, “Yes, if a portrait were as easy to paint as a sausage.” This remark made Chardin deeply question himself. Fearing he would be forgotten if he only painted still lifes, he decided to start depicting scenes of everyday life.
He Was More Admired in the 19th Century Than in His Own Time
Like many artists, Chardin was not fully appreciated during his lifetime. His works, especially The Ray, were more widely admired in the 19th century. Matisse often visited the Louvre to study his paintings and even created The Buffet inspired by Chardin. Cézanne drew inspiration from his still lifes, while Proust wrote: “We learned from Chardin that a pear is as alive as a woman, that an ordinary piece of pottery is as beautiful as a precious stone.”
Chardin Hardly Ever Left Paris
Chardin pastel selfportrait
Born in Paris, Jean Siméon Chardin lived in the family home on Rue de Seine for many years. After marrying Marguerite Saintard, he moved to Rue Princesse.
He spent most of his time in the Marais district, at the Royal Academy, and at the Louvre. While many painters of his time traveled to Italy to refine their skills, Chardin remained in Paris. Even when he left Rue Princesse, it was to move into the Louvre, where he also passed away in 1779.
The Artist Lived in the Louvre
In 1755, Chardin became treasurer of the Royal Academy. Two years later, he received a letter from King Louis XV granting him the residence of S. Marteau, recently deceased, in the Louvre’s galleries. Chardin was so proud of this “promotion” that he read the letter aloud before the entire Royal Academy, as recorded in the official minutes. He moved in with his wife and had the renowned engraver Charles-Nicolas Cochin as his neighbor.
He Gradually Lost His Sight Due to Painting
From 1770 onward, Chardin’s eyesight began to deteriorate. He abandoned oil painting and turned to pastels on the advice of a fellow painter.
Chardin personally ground his pigments to achieve the colors he wanted. He then mixed them with a binding agent, but the mixture contained a significant amount of lead. This highly toxic substance likely caused progressive damage to his eyes.
Pierre-Jean Chardin was the first child of Jean Siméon Chardin and Marguerite Saintard. He was born a few months after their marriage, in November 1731. After his wife’s death in 1735, Chardin raised his son alone, who eventually became his student. Pierre-Jean furthered his training in Italy and even won the prestigious Prix de Rome in 1754. He returned to France in 1762 but went back to Italy in 1767, where he remained until his death in 1768.
Chardin Lost His Wife and Daughter in the Same Year
Some people speak of a curse when referring to the artist’s life. Chardin himself reportedly believed he was doomed. In 1735, just four years after his marriage to Marguerite Saintard, she passed away.
A few months later, their 20-month-old daughter, Marguerite-Agnès, also died—her fragile health likely worsened by the loss of her mother.
He Was Friends with Denis Diderot
Chardin was aware of the ambitious project led by d’Alembert and Diderot to create the famous Encyclopédie. Diderot, in turn, greatly admired Chardin’s works, as he understood their depth and intensity. Naturally, when they met, they became friends. Diderot often visited Chardin for tea in his Louvre apartment. In a small room near his studio, the artist would reveal to the philosopher paintings he had never shown to anyone before.
His Son Was Kidnapped by Pirates
In 1757, Jean Siméon Chardin gave his son the opportunity to study at the French Academy in Rome. However, Pierre-Jean’s time in Rome was marred by scandals that tarnished his reputation, including a dramatic incident in 1762 when he was captured by pirates. The details of this episode remain unclear—no one knows exactly how Pierre-Jean Chardin was kidnapped or how he was eventually freed.
Perhaps influenced by his younger brother, Giovan Battista, who became a priest, Caravaggio embraced the vision of the Oratory congregation founded by Saint Philip Neri in the 16th century. This movement sought to emulate the simple life of the early Christians.
Although it has often been claimed that Caravaggio did not draw, a thorough study of his early works has revealed that he did, in fact, sketch his subjects on the light preparatory layers of his paintings. He used either charcoal or a very fine brush. Given his meticulous attention to detail, it is no surprise that he initially outlined his compositions—just like his contemporaries.
Francesco Maria Bourbon del Monte, who was made a cardinal by Pope Sixtus V in 1585, was an avid Italian art collector. He was Caravaggio’s most frequent client—at the time of his death, he owned eight of the artist’s paintings. Caravaggio considered Cardinal del Monte his mentor, as he was the one who secured him the commission that became a turning point in his career: the decoration of the Contarelli Chapel in 1600.
He May Have Spent Time in Prison
Caravaggio’s biographers sometimes struggle to piece together the exact timeline of his life. While some claim he arrived in Rome in 1592, others believe he did not reach the Italian capital until 1596. If the latter is true, this would shorten his productive period by four years and make him an even more prolific painter. According to some accounts, these missing four years were spent in prison—for allegedly assaulting a man in Milan.
You Can Step Into His Mind
The exhibition Dentro Caravaggio (Inside Caravaggio), held in Milan until the end of January 2018, featured around twenty of the artist’s works from major European museums. These were accompanied by animations and X-rays, allowing visitors to trace the evolution of his paintings—additions, removals, and alterations. For instance, it was discovered that Caravaggio initially painted a lamb, a traditional iconographic symbol, in his Saint John the Baptist painting before later removing it.
He Was One of the First Academicians
In 1593, Federico Zuccaro redefined the status of painters, elevating the value of their work. At the time, two artistic theories clashed: disegno (drawing and intention) versus colore (color). The painters’ guild was transformed into an academy—L’Accademia di San Luca (The Academy of Saint Luke)—and Caravaggio’s name was among the first on the founding list.
He Carried a Sword
Caravaggio’s friendship with Cardinal del Monte granted him access to ecclesiastical circles and allowed him to adopt the customs of the old nobility. He embraced their tastes and privileges—including the right to carry a sword and the code of honor that permitted its use. Unfortunately, he had no qualms about wielding it, which ultimately contributed to his downfall.
Some of His Paintings Were Rejected
As Caravaggio’s success grew, he attracted increasingly prestigious patrons. While it has often been said that many of his paintings were dismissed, we now know that they actually gained significant public admiration. That said, the first versions of works like Saint Matthew and the Angel and The Conversion of Saint Paul were indeed rejected by their commissioners—but they were later sold elsewhere.
He Had an Enemy
Caravaggio was well known for his violent, impulsive, and combative nature. He often settled disputes through duels—following the code of honor—which led to multiple stints in prison. One of the most vocal figures in tarnishing his reputation was another Italian painter of his time, Giovanni Baglione. Baglione became a fierce critic of Caravaggio, particularly in The Lives of Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, a historical account of art that he published in 1642.
His Remains May Be in a Church in Porto Ercole
Since Caravaggio died at the Santa Maria Ausiliatrice hospital in Porto Ercole, it was long assumed that his body was hastily buried in the San Sebastiano cemetery, in accordance with local customs. However, in 2010, a carbon-14 analysis of bones found in an ossuary in a church in Porto Ercole suggested that they likely belonged to Caravaggio. Yet, since this conclusion is not 100% certain, some doubt remains.
Goya is almost 70 here, long deaf, with several lifetimes behind him, a career at court, political upheavals, illness, and numerous portraits, engravings, and phantasmagorical paintings. In this self-portrait, we see disheveled hair, a tired but not very old face. Goya is again receiving royal commissions, but in a few years, he will leave Spain for France forever.
Goya is an amazing person, changing simultaneously with the era and yet always recognizable, unique in his mature works. It is his engravings and drawings that will later fascinate the surrealists, it is he who was not afraid to bring out the fears and subconscious images that psychoanalysts would later deal with. But there are no monsters in the portrait — only a man with slumped shoulders and a heavy gaze who has endured a great deal.
Karl Bryullov: “Self-Portrait” (1833)
In 1833, Karl Bryullov was on his way to European fame. He had just finished the blockbuster painting “The Last Day of Pompeii,” which impressed viewers in Milan and Rome, and later in St. Petersburg. This portrait depicts a very self-satisfied young man. Contemporaries compared him to Apollo – alas, poor health and a questionable lifestyle soon left nothing of this beauty. Fashionable curls, a dark jacket – the set of a romantic, but not a lonely wanderer, rather a winner who knows his worth. Well-groomed, pampered by Italy, calm and with a touch of gloss. A tribute to romantic fashion is mandatory: furrowed brows, attentive gaze, mouth slightly open, collar unbuttoned. He is ready for a quick remark or listening attentively to the interlocutor. This is a man in his prime, full of life, like the heroes of Baroque sculpture, which he, of course, saw in his beloved Rome.
Gustave Courbet: “The Desperate Man” (1843–1845)
There is no doubt that Courbet would have started an Instagram account these days and photographed himself with a dog and in unusual poses. He loved to play and admire himself. And his early self-portraits unequivocally point to this. One of Courbet’s many roles (wounded, musician, hedonist with a pipe, etc.) is a man on the verge of despair. Was he ever in despair? Undoubtedly. Did he look in the mirror at these moments, wringing his hands and grabbing his thick hair? Unlikely.
In the self-portrait, we see an acting study: he seems to be playing a dramatic role in front of the camera. And he’s overacting a bit — which is quite in the tradition of 17th-18th century artists. At that time, many studies of facial expressions and gestures were painted, where models exaggeratedly demonstrate emotions. Courbet is the most accessible model for himself and at the same time an aesthetic object. Quite modern narcissism, quite understandable interest. The future “chief realist,” the subverter of the ideal in painting, is still practicing on himself and doing it with pleasure.
Edgar Degas: “Degas Saluting” (1865–1866)
The self-doubting melancholic and misanthrope Degas often depicted himself – but not for self-admiration, rather for research. He always has a sad-skeptical look and not too sociable appearance. It’s all the more strange that he greets us. Why? Probably, the ironic Degas repeats a popular pose from photographic visiting cards, on which gentlemen often raised their hats, greeting the addressee. At this time, Degas was already interested in photography and later briefly became an amateur photographer himself. And this time was pivotal for him: it was then that he moved away from academic contrived subjects and turned to modern life. Already in the next decade, Degas will exhibit in the company of the Impressionists and look like an innovator. For now, he is on the way.
Vincent Van Gogh: “Self-Portrait” (1889)
Van Gogh paints his face as if slowly and tensely crawling up a rock: not a single easy line, everything is excessive. In all his self-portraits, we see a dramatic experience of forms, surfaces, and color. This self-portrait — one of the last three — was painted in September 1889, 10 months before his death. At this time, Van Gogh was confined to the Saint-Rémy asylum. It was here that he painted the famous “Starry Night” – an unreal, cosmic landscape.
This portrait is also a kind of landscape — rocky, craggy, southern. There’s no straw hat, no beard, no pipe — everything is austere and bare. The face is turned so that the mutilated ear is not visible. The eyes are like voids, the nose like a mountain ridge. It seems that there is nothing to cling to in this face: it’s like a mountain against a blue sky. Van Gogh seems to become nature itself, and nature in the process of development and change. Looking into himself, the artist sees forces of a different, non-human scale.
Aubrey Beardsley: “Self-Portrait” (1892)
Dressed for a social reception (jacket, vest, bow tie), the 20-year-old Beardsley seems to be looking into a narrow mirror. He has a sickly thin decadent face, a frozen gaze, sharp cheekbones. The ears and nostrils are emphasized as if he’s listening and sniffing. Beardsley was able to make a sarcastic remark in response to critical attacks — this is reminded by the skeptical smirk. All lines are elongated, the figure with black hair resembles a gloomy night flower.
Where does such a young person get such acuteness of feelings, sickness, melancholy? Beardsley was forced to grow up early: he had been suffering from tuberculosis since he was seven. And he also became famous early, by the mid-1890s: society treated him with rejection, and the press aggressively met his works. In 1892, scandalous fame had not yet come to him, but he already looks tired and reminds one of Dorian Gray: outwardly young, inwardly an old man. Beardsley already guesses that in a few years the disease will defeat him. And the world of his famous refined-sickly drawings — artificial, fantastical — probably distracted from suffering, human stupidity, and earthly troubles.
Paul Cézanne: “Self-Portrait” (1882–1885)
Who is infinitely far from selfies as a narcissistic action, it’s Cézanne. In fact, he doesn’t care what to paint: an apple, his wife, a coffee pot, or himself. As long as the object doesn’t move. After all, Cézanne is concerned with unchanging eternal things. He molds the world anew – like a sculptor, from colorful matter. The shadows are colored, the objects are voluminous and heavy. There’s no sensuality (this is the opposite of Bryullov), no conveyance of textures. There is strength, power, clumsiness, the slowness of an analyst. As if he wants to understand the essence of objects. Cézanne painted his pictures, including self-portraits, for a long time, as if summarizing impressions from individual moments.
The artist’s task here is not to grasp the surface of the phenomenon, but to study it carefully. And you need to look at the self-portrait for a long time, like an old tree with annual rings. This is already a mature artist who has found his manner of building form. His landscapes and still lifes are self-sufficient, and he doesn’t want to please anyone. It’s impossible to guess if he has feelings and mood: he’s not looking at us and doesn’t live in the portrait for us. He is on his own. Like a mountain or an apple.
Mikhail Vrubel: “Self-Portrait” (1885)
A demonic bird-like face, dramatic light – is this an acting role or a nightmare? In many self-portraits, Vrubel peers into his face, as if trying to understand the degree of its materiality. It was during the period of creating this drawing (when he was healing his heartache in Odessa) that Vrubel finds an image that will later completely absorb him — the image of the Demon. This self-portrait brings to mind Gogol with his grotesque, night scenes, and mysticism: we see the contrast of light and darkness, a grotesque nose, vagueness of outlines.
The hatching is very bold, even rough, in some places the edges sculpt the form, and in some places one has to guess what exactly is depicted. The mouth is almost invisible, the eyes look questioningly. There is no clarity, no certainty, but there is a question, uncertainty. For Vrubel, there is a very thin line between the real and unreal worlds — and this is probably related to his future madness. And in this self-portrait, the young strange artist depicts himself not as a whole personality, but as a vision that flashed in the darkness.
Edvard Munch: “Self-Portrait with Burning Cigarette” (1895)
Munch would make an ideal character for a dark TV series. His life is excessively dramatic: handsome appearance, romantic passions, strange ideas, paranoia, outbursts of irritation, the death of loved ones, illnesses, anxieties, and fears. In his 1895 self-portrait, he reminds us of his bohemian nature: standing and smoking a cigarette as if in the spotlight. This brings to mind the artistic Berlin café “The Black Piglet,” where poets, writers, and artists would meet, as well as another self-portrait painted in 1903, where the artist depicts himself in hellish flames.
Darkness and flashes of light, twilight and radiance—something tumultuous, contrasting, like the music of Wagner or Sibelius. By this time, he had already begun the “Frieze of Life” series, which includes the famous “The Scream.” All of Munch’s paintings are deeply personal and autobiographical: there is always a sense of drama, suffering, fear, jealousy, and pain. This is a self-portrait of an anxious man at the turn of the century: there is no harmony in him, the future terrifies him, he is in despair and stupor.
Paul Gauguin: “Self-Portrait with Yellow Christ” (1890–1891)
This strongman with a mysterious expression constantly encrypted his paintings. Gauguin’s self-portrait is a symbolic manifesto in which he sums up his life. Here is the Breton period, when he painted “The Yellow Christ” surrounded by worshippers (whether it’s a mystical vision of Golgotha or the veneration of a statue of Christ in Brittany). And here is the Tahitian period, when he made a grotesque ceramic vessel in the shape of his own head, associating himself with something like an ancient totem. This vessel is visible in the background—so are we looking at two self-portraits? Or even three (since Gauguin considered the work of an artist to be something like the Stations of the Cross)? On the left is his past: an interest in the Middle Ages with a touch of Japanese influence, icons, and sculptures of Brittany, ancient customs. On the right, behind his mighty shoulder, is the present: he has become a primitive ceramic vessel, as if made by islanders. Here is Christianity and paganism, and here is the new prophet—Gauguin. He is a myth-maker, a demiurge, a mystifier, almost a shaman, and many other artists will follow his path into the 20th century.
One of Pablo Picasso’s most renowned paintings, Guernica (1937) shows the bombardment of the titular city during the Spanish Civil War and is widely regarded as a strong allegory for the horrors of war.
Representations of the Spanish Civil War in Guernica
Pablo Picasso, then a Parisian artist, was commissioned by the Spanish Republic to produce an artwork for the 1937 World’s Fair. But he still needed to find a topic, since the Spanish artist lacked inspiration in the late 1930s.
As political upheaval spread throughout Europe, he saw his own creative process stall. There has been a horrific civil war between Republicans and Francoists in Spain since 1936.
Pablo Picasso, Guernica, 1937, Centro de Arte Reina Sofia
On April 26, 1937, the Basque city of Guernica was bombed by the German Condor Legion, an ally of Franco’s, in an effort to intimidate the local populace into switching sides and abandoning their support for the Republicans.
m. and continued for more than three hours, turned the landscape into one of dread. The streets of the destroyed city are littered with the remains of the dead. 1,645 people out of a total population of 7,000 were killed, with another 889 injured.
The following day, at the Café de Flore in Paris, Pablo Picasso read the newspaper and found out the news. It was settled; he would be studying this topic.
The horrors of war are shown all over the 11.5 ft x 25.5 ft (3.49 m x 7.77 m) painting. Michelangelo’s Pietà, in which the Virgin weeps for her slain son, may be alluding to the woman bearing her dead child in her arms and gazing up at the sky in a scream of grief in Guernica.
Picasso’s depiction of the horse has a skull and crossbones in its mouth and nostrils, if one looks carefully enough. The bull’s intense stare, which represents Spain, appears to implore the observer to come to its aid.
However, the artist depicts a few symbols of peace, such as the dove, which is there but unobtrusively between the horse and the bull, or the lady who arrives at the window carrying a lamp, which may signify hope or the illumination of an event of global importance.
Guernica is a work of democracy
The 1937 Paris World’s Fair was when Guernica first gained international attention; it went on to be shown in a number of other countries before being acquired by the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York. As long as Spain was not a democracy, Picasso had no interest in having his art shown there.
Pablo Picasso passed away in 1973, and then Franco two years later. The Spanish Senate began the process of returning the work to Spain in 1977 on the grounds that “freedoms are guaranteed.”
The piece was first restored to the Prado Museum in 1981, after the country’s democratic win, and then moved to the Reina Sofia Museum in Madrid in 1992.
The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli is one of the most iconic works of the Italian Renaissance and continues to captivate viewers today. Learn the truth behind the legend that has surrounded the masterpiece. Venus, the goddess of love, is shown here as a lady with translucent skin who is gently perched on a shell and is surrounded by people who are all facing her. For this piece, the Italian artist paid homage to the creative sophistication of his day by depicting a pagan topic.
What are the characteristics of this painting?
The painting “The Birth of Venus” is a tempera on canvas.
To get this effect, the artist likely mixed ground pigments with egg white or fig milk. This colossal work, measuring in at 67.9 x 109.6 inches (172.5 x 278.5 cm), required the sewing together of two canvases.
This picture, which is now housed in Florence, Italy’s Uffizi Gallery, was either commissioned by or created for a Medici family member. It was painted in 1485, at the time of Lorenzo de’ Medici (Lorenzo the Magnificent). Sandro Botticelli aimed to pay homage to the most valuable qualities of nature through the people, scenery, and arrangement.
The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, 1485.
How is the work composed?
In this seafaring tale, three distinct groups of people emerge. The shoreline in this artwork is quite steep, and the waves are crashing ever lower. Roses, conceived by Venus, rain down from the heavens. All four classical elements are here: air (represented by the deity of the winds, Zephyr), water from the sea, earth (the coastline can be seen to the right), and fire (that of love).
A melancholy Venus perched on a shell occupies the focal point. This primary figure is nearly life size, and on each side of her are two smaller figures: a young lady (the goddess of spring) and the wind deity Zephyr, who is joined by his wife, the nymph Chloris (a symbol of physical love). The triangle arrangement focuses attention on the lovely goddess’s face.
Who are the different characters?
Venus (Aphrodite for the Greeks), the goddess of beauty, stands front and center on an open conch. Her curves convey sensuality, and her nakedness represents innocence. The shell represents the female sex, hence, it is seen as a symbol of fertility.
With a subtle motion of her hand, she covers her breasts, and her long blond hair also helps. Her subtle wiggle, reminiscent of ancient statues, gives the impression that she is in motion. Her eyes have a melancholy beauty about them.
Zephyr, the god of the winds, and his wife are seen entwined in the air to the left of the artwork. His puffy cheeks show that he is blowing on Venus to force her toward the beach. The springtime goddess Flora (one of the “Horae”) appears on the right.
She stands on the coast, holding out a purple fabric with flowers on it as a welcome mat for Venus. The cornflowers on her outfit are a nod to the romantic springtime.
What mythological episode does this painting depict?
This artwork shows Venus’s first trip to Cyprus after she was born. According to Hesiod, a Greek poet, Venus was conceived in the genitalia of her father Ouranos (Uranus), the god of the sky, who concealed his offspring under the surface of the Earth. Chronos, his disobedient son, removed his father’s internal organs and hurled them into the ocean.
When they hit the ocean, a foam arose, and from it sprang Venus, also known as Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Then Zephyr blew her to Cyprus, where the daughters of Zeus and Themis, the Horae, greeted her and whisked her away to Olympus.
