Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Friday, 14 February 2014

'A dateless lively heat': Happy Valentine's!

In keeping with today's theme of love, all things heart-shaped and amorous, I thought it might be fun to share a few early-modern (and, I admit, some eighteenth- and nineteenth-century ones) that reflect today's warm and fuzzy feeling. (And if that warm, fuzzy feeling is only provided by your furry slippers this year, then that's fine, too!)

All of the images are courtesy of Wellcome Images.

Cupid dissecting a heart (1665)
The treatment of a love-sick woman (representing the Netherlands) (1672)
Cupid armed with a bow and arrow flies through the window (18th century)

A woman with bulging eyes, expressing desire through her face (1770)

A woman, the physiognomy of whom expresses attention excited by desire (1792)

A bewildered doctor taking the pulse of a love-sick woman (1802)

A young woman in love clasps her hands against her heart (1830)
There will be another post coming up over the weekend on some 'Bellifying Receipts', so keep your eyes peeled!

© Jenna Townend 2014

Monday, 20 January 2014

Wellcome Images

As I'm sure most of you will have already heard today, all of the Wellcome images previously out of copyright have now been made freely available! Hurrah! Head over to wellcomeimages.org to have a browse, if you haven't already done so.

Given this wonderful news, I thought I would share a few of my favourite images that I've found as I have been having a browse through the hundreds of thousands that are available this afternoon.

'Wound man', 15th century
'Game of Heaven and Hell' - late 18th century (or, Snakes and Ladders!)
'The Massacre of Hugenots at Tours'
'A chiropodist treating a patient's foot'
'A Travelling Medicine Vendor', 1635
'Anatomical Illustration of a Pregnant Woman', 1634
'A Deformed Face', 1632
All images are taken from Wellcome Images.

© Jenna Townend 2014

Monday, 23 September 2013

Roman Relics Part 3: Pompeii

And, finally, we come to possibly the most famous of the three sites that I visited: Pompeii. 

I had been to Pompeii once before in 2003 but, I'll be honest, I didn't really appreciate what I was looking at. Yes, I knew it was nearly 2000 years old, but it wasn't until I visited this time that I had that 'WOW' moment where the significance of the site suddenly hit me. 

Although Pompeii is, of course, just as busy as many of the central sites in Rome, there were still plenty of moments during the day where you are suddenly and startlingly reminded of the miracle of the city that you are looking at. Nowhere did this hit me more than when I was stood in one of the quiet side streets near the House of the Faun, gazing up the street to the peak of Vesuvius. That night in 79AD must have been genuinely terrifying, and it came to life for me more in that moment than it has in any of the dramatisations that I've watched over the years.

2000 year old cart tracks running through the streets

Takeaway food, Pompeii style: storage containers in the counter

A lion painted onto a wall fresco

Mythical beast painted onto the same fresco

The rather extravagant entrance steps to the House of Julia Felix. They were built up over the usual pavement to illustrate her wealth to passersby

The atrium of the House of Julia Felix (sadly closed to the public currently)

Another angle on the atrium

View through one of the house's rooms into the courtyard beyond

The beautifully preserved black and white mosaic floor

The mosaic sign on the street outside the House of the Faun. 'Have' means 'greetings' (see also the new header of my personal Twitter page!)

The ubiquitous 'beware of the dog' mosaic at the House of the Tragic Poet': 'Cave Canem'

I was trying to find a quotation on which to finish the last of these three blog posts that would sum up the awe-inspiring power of Pompeii and Vesuvius, and found this incredibly moving extract from Statius's Silvae, written in the AD 90s:

'In a future generation, when crops spring up again, when this wasteland regains its green, will men believe that cities and people lie beneath? That in days of old their lands lay closer to the sea? Nor has that fatal summit ceased to threaten' (4.4.78).

 © Jenna Townend 2013

Roman Relics Part 2: Ostia Antica

Next stop on my tour of the key Roman sites of Rome and its surrounding countryside was Ostia Antica. This is, without a doubt, my new favourite archaeological site.

Only discovered and excavated in the last century, the site is yet to be over-run by tourists and site-seeing tours. Because of this, the whole area is still virtually totally un-fenced and, although there is a free basic map and a visitor centre, you are still free to go and explore wherever you choose in relative peace and quiet. Provided you have a reasonable working knowledge of the layout of Roman towns (if you don't, all you need to do is watch Mary Beard's 'Meet the Romans'), you can spend, as I did, an entire day wandering around and stumbling across some truly magnificent finds.

If anyone is taking a trip to Rome in the near future, I would definitely recommend Ostia to you. It really is the most incredible place.

Roman takeaways: produce display area in a shop selling hot and cold food just off the forum

Counter facing out onto the street at this shop

Part of a beautiful fresco in a private residence 

The street that many of the food shops and stalls face onto

The infamous 20-seat public latrine!

Me with the forum in the background

The entrance to a family's mausoleum, where the urns of both family members and their slaves were kept

One of the rooms of this mausoleum. Significant family members, such as the husband and wife, would have been placed in the larger alcoves, with children and slaves taking up the smaller alcoves

A mosaic advert for a stall dealing in exotic animals. This is in the marketplace that lay behind the ampitheatre (see below)

The beautiful ampitheatre

 © Jenna Townend 2013

Roman Relics Part 1: Gladiatorial scrawls

If you are a reader of my blog that is unyielding in terms of what 'early modern' means, then I'm afraid that you will have to excuse the content of the next few blog posts! Before I get back into my normal early-modern-themed posts, we are taking a brief trip back to around 50-80AD...

As some of you may know, I recently went on holiday to Italy: Rome and Sorrento to be precise. Now, apart from eating my own body weight in pasta, pizza, and gelato, I did actually manage to fit in a fair bit of sight-seeing. First on the list was the Rome's Colosseum. 

Rather than bore you with the standard photos of its exterior and interior (which are, nonetheless, absolutely stunning!), I wanted to share with you a little collection of photos that I took of some sections of marble that have been removed from the walls of the Colosseum's 'corridors' - for want of a better word - and have been placed as part of the exhibition that sits on the upper floors.

I really can't get these images out of my head. They are something that at once struck me as unmistakably antiquarian (they are, after all, accompanied by a card telling you the likely date that they were engraved), but also incredibly modern. Engravings and scrawlings in stone, wood, even modern school tables, are surely as common now as they were around 80AD.

A gladiator, with armour, spear and shield

A big cat used in gladiatorial competitions

Two gladiators fighting. Both wearing armour, with the left-hand gladiator holding a shield, and the right-hand gladiator brandishing a sword

Gladiator with wonderfully detailed armour on his lower body, carrying a spear

 © Jenna Townend 2013

Monday, 2 September 2013

Beautiful Bibles

Happy September everybody! Am I the only one who doesn't know where that summer went?

About a week ago on Twitter, I stumbled across a link to MS 19; a sumptuously illustrated Bible from the 14th century that was given to the University of Edinburgh in 1680. The entire manuscript is digitized, and can be found here: http://images.is.ed.ac.uk/luna/servlet/view/search/what/Ms%2019?q=bible%20historial

It really is an absolutely beautiful thing. The craftsmanship of medieval texts such as this never fails to astound me, so I just had to share three of my favourite images with you all! I have cropped the original facsimiles so that you can really see the incredible detail of the illustrations.

f.5v

f.89v

f.145v
I am going to be away for a couple of weeks now on holiday, so won't be able to do much other than tweet about any beautiful early modern things that I stumble across in Rome (my Twitter is @MyEMWorld in case you aren't already following). I do, however, have another couple of posts planned for when I return, one of which will be a write-up of the EEBO-TCP conference that I will be attending at Oxford University in two weeks' time!

© Jenna Townend 2013

Sunday, 11 August 2013

Giovanni Bracelli: early modern Cubist?

Giovanni Battista Bracelli was, by all accounts, an Italian engraver and artist based in Florence in the early part of the seventeenth century. It was during this time that he compiled his little-known work Bizzarie di Varie Figure, which was published in 1624. It contains what are certainly some of the most highly inventive drawings of human-like figures of the period, which were sadly lost to the world until the re-discovery of the text in, or around, 1950.

As Sue Welsh Reed indicates, the Bizzarie shows characteristics of the artistic style called Mannerism,
which originated in Italy in the sixteenth century: 'the term derives from the Italian word maniera, meaning style. It is applied to a way of working that was developed to oppose the idealized naturalism of the Renaissance as practiced by Raphael and others'.

Below I have shared three of my favourite engravings from Bracelli's work. As several other scholars working on Bracelli have indicated, the figures in the Bizzarie certainly seem to be a kind of prescient for the modern artistic trend of Cubism.

Stumbling across these wonderful drawings were a welcome break from the rather gory reading that I've been doing this week, and certainly gives me a different slant on considering the early modern body!







References:
1. I owe the origin of these images from the Bizzarie (which are sadly not available on EEBO), to this article on Bracelli that was written in 2005: http://www.spamula.net/blog/2005/08/bracelli.html
2. For a more detailed commentary on Bracelli and his work, as well as a more comprehensive biography, see this pdf file: http://mail.nysoclib.org/Braccelli_Bizzarie_di_varie_figure/BCLBZR.PDF

© Jenna Townend 2013

Monday, 3 June 2013

Tracing a transfiguration of death in seventeenth-century religious literature

The central focus of my dissertation's final chapter was on how two of George Herbert's poems ('Death' and 'Heaven') could have succeeded in dispelling mortal fear in his aged Christian reader by presenting death as a transcendent event to be welcomed, rather than something to be feared. Of course, this transfiguration in attitude is aligned with the progression in the presentation of death seen across the Old and New Testaments. Here, death is transformed from a finite event in which the body is simply recommitted to the dust from which it was created (Genesis 3:19, and see also 'The Order for the Burial of the Dead' in John Booty's edition of the 1599 Book of Common Prayer), to its position in the New Testament as a transcendent event for the Christian soul that, according to Scripture, was provided by Christ's self-sacrifice and the resulting doctrine of soteriology.
One of the most interesting things that I observed when looking at Herbert's 'Death' (which I have reproduced below from Helen Wilcox's edition), is how the poem follows this Biblical chronology of transforming death into a positive event. In relation to this, it also constructs a powerful pictorial representation of death's transfiguration by drawing upon its personified form as a skeletal figure that was seen in the meditatio mortis tradition of the Renaissance. In Herbert’s poem, the figure of death is gradually transformed from being the fear-inducing figure of this artistic tradition, where it is 'nothing but bones', to a figure that, 'since our Saviors death', is 'clad' with 'beauty' and can be 'much sought for as a good'.
When researching other primary sources which support or echo this transfiguration that Herbert enacts, I came across a fascinating source entitled Death's Universall Summons (EEBO) published in 1650. Whilst obviously published some time after Herbert's death in 1633, this anonymous work presents a discourse between 'the great Messenger of Mortality' and 'a presumptious Sinner', and it concludes with this man's 'chearful Entertainment of Death' (p. 1). Apart from a similar transfiguration of a Christian individual's attitude to death, what also struck me was this illustration included on the pamphlet's title page:

I would suggest that this skeletal figure (who is certainly an allusion to the meditatio mortis tradition seen in Renaissance art such as Hans Holbein's The Ambassadors) is very similar to the terrifying figure that Herbert alludes to in the first half of his poem. Furthermore, like the conclusion of Herbert's poem where his speaker welcomes death 'as a good', this dialogue also concludes with the Sinner confidently stating that 'my Friend [Death] I do Embrace' (p. 8). Because of Christ's own transfiguration of death, the Sinner has realised that the Christian can, in the spiritual and physical sense respectively, 'go Live for-ever, yet for-ever Die!' (p. 7) by greeting this personified figure of death.
I was so excited when I came across this obscure pamphlet in my research around Herbert's poem, and I'd love to hear if anyone else has found any other similar transfigurations of death in some of the more obscure religious literature of the seventeenth-century (whether poetic or otherwise!).
‘Death’
Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing,
                           Nothing but bones,
      The sad effect of sadder groans:
Thy mouth was open, but thou couldst not sing.

For we considered thee as at some six
                           Or ten years hence,
      After the loss of life and sense,
Flesh being turned to dust, and bones to sticks.

We looked on this side of thee, shooting short;
                         Where we did find
      The shells of fledge souls left behind,
Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort.

But since our Savior’s death did put some blood
                           Into thy face,
      Thou art grown fair and full of grace,
Much in request, much sought for as a good.

For we do now behold thee gay and glad,
                           As at Doomsday;
      When souls shall wear their new array,
And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad.

Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust
                           Half that we have
      Unto an honest faithful grave;

Making our pillows either down, or dust.

  • George Herbert, ‘Death’, in The English Poems of George Herbert, ed. by Wilcox, p. 648. 
  • Death's Universall Summons: or, A General Call; to all Mankind, to the Grave: in a Dialogue Betwixt a Presumptious Sinner, and the Great Messenger of Mortality (London: [n. pub.], 1650), in EEBO.
  • The Book of Common Prayer: 1559 The Elizabethan Prayer Book, ed. by John E. Booty.

© Jenna Townend 2013