Curio Cabinet / Art Curio

This really takes the expression “stony gaze” to a whole new level—the highest level of the house, in fact. Many surviving artifacts from ancient Greece bear the Gorgoneion, with origins dating even further back. The piece above is an ornamental roof tile made of terracotta clay that would have sat in a location visible to guests, possibly near the entrance. A smiling face with a tongue sticking out, its head is encircled by snakes. Several of the snakes on the left of the face have been broken off, and the terracotta is a brownish color. The Gorgoneion depicts a Gorgon, one of the three snake-haired sisters of ancient Greek mythology, whose mere gaze could turn people into stone. Most famous of the sisters, of course, is Medusa, but not every Gorgoneion portrays her. Aside from ornamental roof tiles, the Gorgoneion was often displayed on the shields of soldiers to frighten enemies. Generally, the Gorgoneion was an apotropaic symbol, meaning it was used to ward off evil spirits and bad luck. So, the fearful visage of the Gorgon roof tile wasn’t meant to scare visitors or inhabitants, but the ancient Greek equivalent of the boogeyman. If looks could kill!

 
Gorgoneion Antefix, c. 500 BC, Terracotta, Height: 9.625 in. (24.5 cm), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Leonard C. Hanna, Jr. Fund, CC0 1.0 Universal (CC0 1.0) Public Domain Dedication.]

It’s not just fashionable, it’s a matter of health. American painter and industrialist Jeptha Homer Wade painted this portrait of an acquaintance in the 19th century, and it sheds a little light into an obscure part of history. Simply titled Nathaniel Olds, it depicts a man with dark hair and formal attire sitting on a red chair. The titular figure is wearing a pair of green-tinted glasses with a thick, silver frame. These unusual shades were meant to protect against the harsh light of Argand lamps, which was thought to be bad for the eyes. These lamps aren’t used anymore not just because better (and healthier) options are now available, but because they were fueled by whale oil, which thankfully isn’t used much anymore. The painter, Wade, was more famous for being an industrialist and businessman than a painter. In fact, he was the founder of the Western Union Telegraph Company, which made him one of the wealthiest men in the world during his lifetime. So much for the “starving artist” stereotype.
 
Nathaniel Olds, Jeptha Homer Wade (1811–1890), 1837, Oil on canvas, 30.125 x 24.125 in. (76.5 x 61.2 cm),The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
Image Credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Seventy-fifth anniversary gift of Jeptha H. Wade III, CC0 1.0 Universal (CC0 1.0) Public Domain Dedication.

Is it any wonder this chair is from the Gilded Age? French furniture maker and interior designer Leon Marcotte was born on this day in 1824. His piece above is an armchair designed as part of a Louis XVI–inspired suite. The gold and white upholstery has a floral pattern woven in, and the wooden body of the chair has black lacquer and gilded details. In 19th-century New York, where wealthy elites demanded the finest European stylings for their homes, Marcotte was the premier designer to meet their needs. Taking inspiration from the Rococo Period, Marcotte was particularly well regarded for his elaborate upholstery. But the style is also associated with America’s “Gilded Age,” defined by the exploitative business practices of robber barons and their extravagant lifestyles. After all, this chair, made from hard-to-find, opulent materials was just one in a larger set. No wonder the Gilded Age only lasted around ten years—it wasn’t exactly sustainable.

 
Armchair, Léon Marcotte (1824-1887), 1860, Maple, gilt bronze, 40.75 x 25.5 x 20 in. (103.5 x 64.8 x 50.8 cm), Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Léon Marcotte, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Mrs. D. Chester Noyes 1968, This file was donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, This file is made available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.]

There’s nothing quite like the sky at dawn. German-born modernist artist and sculptor Arnold Rönnebeck was born on this day in 1885. His piece above, A Death at Dawn, shows a mountainous landscape in the early morning as the sun is rising out of frame. In the foreground, there are three objects floating in the air: a feathered wing, an antler, and a pair of black-handled scissors hanging from it. Rönnebeck arrived in New York City in 1923, and soon after traveled to Taos, New Mexico, where he painted with other artists. While Rönnebeck is often remembered for his abstract depiction of the New York cityscape, his extensive travels throughout the country inspired him to create many pieces focused on natural scenery. A Death at Dawn is one such work, combining animal parts with a human relic in a stark yet beautiful landscape. With just a few simple shades of red, blue, brown, and pale yellow, Rönnebeck evocatively combines the natural and artificial. It’s quite a surreal sight.

 
A Death at Dawn, Arnold Rönnebeck (1885–1947), c. 1947, oil on canvas

 
[Image credit & copyright: Arnold Rönnebeck (1885–1947), Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

Can you hear the song? French painter Jules Breton was born on this day in 1827. In his piece above, Song of the Lark, a young woman in worn farm clothes holds a sickle and sings as she looks into the distance. As the sun sets behind her, the field where she stands is cast in a late evening shadow. Breton was born during a time of political uncertainty in France, and was greatly affected by the events of the French Revolution of 1848, also called the February Revolution. Along with other artists of the time, Breton was inspired by the increasing societal attention on the plight of the poor, especially rural peasants. In Breton’s paintings, the landscape of rural France is painted with stark realism while its inhabitants are portrayed as dignified and defiant. Scenes like the one in Song of the Lark evoke a romanticism that was more typical of mythological heroes or other grandiose figures committed to canvas. It’s an artists’ reminder not to overlook the underclass.

 
Song of the Lark, Jules Breton (1827-1906), 1884, Oil on canvas, 43.5 in (110.6 cm); width: 33.7 in (85.8 cm), Art Institute of Chicago, room 222, Chicago, Illinois

 
[Image credit & copyright: Jules Breton, Henry Field Memorial Collection,
Art Institute of Chicago, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

No one ever said farm life was easy. American artist Donald Mattison, born on this day in 1905, liked to capture the hard parts of rural life. His piece above, Indiana Farming, shows a busy scene on a farm. As a woman and a child are walking to the right with a basket of eggs, a man on the left is tending to a sheep while another struggles to contain a broken wagon carrying pigs. Behind the woman and child in the center, two men are carrying a crate full of chickens that are escaping through an opening. Early in his career, Mattison mainly focused on large murals. In fact, Indiana Farming is itself a mural study. His favored subjects were landscapes, community gatherings, and the everyday lives of working people depicted in a classical style. Later, Mattison moved on to portraiture, earning commissions for a number of prominent political figures like Thurgood Marshall and a number of Indiana governors. There’s nothing wrong with moving from country life to the high life.

 
Indiana Farming (mural study, Tipton, Indiana Post Office), Donald Mattison (1905-1975), 1937, Oil on canvas, 26.2 in (66.6 cm), 16.2 in (41.2 cm), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, D.C.

 
[Image credit & copyright: Donald Mattison, Wikimedia Commons, This image is a work of the United States Department of the Treasury, taken or made as part of an employee's official duties. As a work of the U.S. federal government, the image is in the public domain in the United States.

If people won’t listen, artists will try to make them see. American artist Santos Zingale was born on this day in 1908. His piece above, Lynch Law, shows a group of Black Americans mourning over the body of a lynching victim. They kneel on the ground by a tree in front of a cotton field as one man raises his fist to the sky, looking upward. A woman in a green dress points toward the victim’s face while clutching at her chest. The raw, tragic scene is reflective of Zingale’s semi-surrealist style, with its bold colors, defined shapes, and detailed expressions. An unapologetically provocative artist, Zingale often painted pieces that were heavy with social commentary. Though it wasn’t popular to do so in the art world during his time, Zingale never shied away from portraying the violence of racism. After being labeled a “radical artist” by the press, he wrote, “Art must help the development of human consciousness and improve the social order.” It’s easy to see that Zingale took that mission seriously.

 
Lynch Law, Santos Zingale (1908-1999), 1934, Oil on canvas, 37.75 x 49.75 in. (95.88 x 126.36), UWM CLS Emile H. Mathis Gallery, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

 
Image credit & copyright: UWM Art Collection, Gift of the Works Progress Administration, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain (work prepared by an officer or employee of the United States Government as part of that person’s official duties under the terms of Title 17, Chapter 1, Section 105 of the US Code.)

It’s all in the lighting. American painter Alfred Thompson Bricher was born on this day in 1837. His piece above, Time and Tide, shows small waves rolling in over a sandy beach as rain clouds float above ships in the distance. A break in the cloud allows sunlight to shine on nearby hilltops and glisten on the water. Bricher is considered one of the finest maritime painters of the 1800s, but he wasn’t widely recognized in his lifetime. His relative obscurity may have to do with the burgeoning Impressionism movement that dominated the art scene in the late 19th century. As other painters were moving away from more traditional styles, Bricher was part of the Hudson River School of artists, who were greatly influenced by Romanticism. Characteristically, his works are masterful displays of idealized landscapes portrayed with dramatic lighting. Such lighting perfectly captures the ruggedness and beauty of the sea. Bricher didn’t really care to make waves in the art world—he just painted them.

 
Time and Tide, Alfred Thompson Bricher (1837-1908), 1873, Oil on canvas, 25.1 in. (64 cm), 50 in. (127 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Dallas, Texas

 
[Image credit & copyright: Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Mayer, Dallas Museum of Art, Public Domain

You know what they say about April showers. Still, if downpours are getting to be too dreary, take a look at this woodblock print by 19th-century Japanese artist Utagawa Kuniyoshi to see the beauty in a rainy day. Ochanomizu in the Rain shows rain falling over a blue river as it cuts through a gray landscape. In the distance is a bridge, and behind that is what could be a small building or a faraway mountain. The blue water serves as the one pop of color in the scene. Kuniyoshi was known for his colorful and meticulously detailed works. While most of his pieces show elaborate, often fantastical scenes, Ochanomizu in the Rain is a rare exception. Instead of beautiful women, fanciful actors or frightful demons, there is only a landscape without much detail or color. Yet the simplicity of the piece also gives it a certain serenity. A walk in the rain is famously refreshing, after all.

 
Ochanomizu in the Rain, Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1798–1861), circa 1830, Ink and color on paper, 10.25 in. (26 cm); W. 13.75 in. (34.9 cm), Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Utagawa Kuniyoshi, The Howard Mansfield Collection, Purchase, Rogers Fund, 1936, The Howard Mansfield Collection, Purchase, Rogers Fund, 1936, Metropolitan Museum of Art Open Access Artworks, Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication

If only the weather would catch up to the season. We’re one week into spring, but it’s still freezing cold in much of the U.S. Someone ought to have a word with whoever’s in charge—perhaps the subject of this statue. The piece above, Spring in the guise of Flora, depicts the Roman goddess Flora in marble. She is wearing a crown of flowers and is holding a large bouquet as she looks to her right with her head slightly tilted. Her torso rises from the statue’s pedestal, while her feet are visible at the base. The statue is one in a set of two by Italian sculptor Pietro Bernini. The other is meant to embody Priapus, a god of animal and vegetable fertility. Bernini was the father of another renowned sculptor, Lorenzo Bernini, who assisted him in making this sculpture. Artists who followed the Mannerist style, like Bernini, indulged in technical difficulty for its own sake more than their classical predecessors did. It’s no wonder, then, that they would go on to influence Baroque artists like Bernini’s own son. The artfully sculpted apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

 
Title, Pietro Bernini (1562-1629), 1616-17, Marble, 89.125 x 34.375 x 27.5 in. (226.4 x 87.3 x 69.9 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Pietro Bernini, Purchase, The Annenberg Foundation Gift, 1990, Metropolitan Museum of Art Open Access, Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication

You’d think there would be more hustle and bustle on laundry day. American artist and jewelry designer August Casciano was born on this day in 1910. His piece above, Blue Monday, shows wood and brick houses standing close together in an otherwise empty field under a dark blue sky. Laundry is hanging out to dry beneath broken windows and empty doorways raised above the ground. Casciano was largely known for his paintings, which were based on his experiences growing up in Providence, Rhode Island in the 1910s and 20s. Often painting surrealist landscapes, his pieces were usually bizarre and abstract. Even in the relatively mundane scenery of Blue Monday, there is a dark and somber mood similar to that found in his other pieces. This tone may also be seen as a reflection of the times, resulting from post-WWI cynicism and the Great Depression, when Casciano was most active. So much for home sweet home.

 
Blue Monday, August Casciano (1910-1993), 1937, Oil on canvas, 28 x 30.13 in. (71.2 x 76.4 cm), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington D.C.

 
[Image credit & copyright: Blue Monday, August Casciano, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Transfer from General Services Administration, work of a Works Progress Administration Employee, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

Don’t take your smartphone’s camera for granted. American artist Anna Claypoole Peale, born on this day in 1791, had to paint her own selfies and portraits. Her piece above, Woman in a Red Dress, is a miniature portrait of a woman in an oval leather case lined with green velvet. The woman has pale skin and is wearing a red dress with gathered lace along the neckline. Peale began painting at the early age of fourteen, and took a special liking to miniatures. Before the advent of photography, miniature paintings—portraits in particular—were popular items, often made of family members who were absent for long periods. In her lifetime, Peale painted around 200 miniatures, and transitioned to easel painting only after her eyesight began to deteriorate. She also painted almost exclusively in the times she was single, including a period between her first and second marriage, likely because miniatures were a relatively well-paying profession that allowed her to support herself. Great things can come in small packages.

 
Title, Anna Claypoole Peale (1791-1878), 1821, Watercolor on ivory, Smithsonian American Art Museum

 
[Image credit & copyright: Smithsonian American Art Museum, Bequest of Mary Elizabeth Spencer, Wikimedia Commons, Smithsonian Institution's Open Access collection, CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication]

It's Flashback Friday! In honor of Women’s History Month, enjoy these curios all about women and their impact.  
Well, here’s a peaceful scene. Louise Catherine Breslau, born this day in 1856, was one of the most renowned impressionist painters of her time. The piece above, Gamines, (“Kids” in English) shows two young women, in long dresses, sitting in a wooded area beside a picnic basket and tennis racket. One lies on the ground with her head on the other’s lap. Breslau’s artistic talents first became evident while she was staying at a convent in Switzerland to treat her chronic asthma. Artistic pursuits weren’t uncommon for women at the time, but it was uncommon for them to pursue art professionally. This eventually motivated Breslau to move to France and attend Académie Julian in Paris, one of the few places where women could study art. While in school, she met Madeleine Zillhardt, a fellow classmate with whom she would live starting in 1886 until Breslau’s death over forty years later. After Breslau passed away, Zillhardt distributed her works to various museums. Today, the two have a street in Paris named in their honor: Place Louise-Catherine-Breslau-et-Madeleine-Zillhardt. A fitting tribute in a city famed for both love and art.
 
Gamines, Louise Catherine Breslau (1856-1927), 1893 , oil on canvas

[Image credit & copyright: Wikimedia Commons,
Louise Catherine Breslau, musée Comtadin-Duplessis, Public Domain
 

This seems like the rite dance for rain. American sculptor Hermon A. Macneil was born on this day in 1866. His piece above, Hopi Prayer for Rain, is a bronze medal with alternating designs on each side. One side shows members of the Hopi tribe engaged in a traditional dance, holding snakes in their hands while lightning strikes in the background. One individual is prominently featured in a foreground, with lettering beneath that reads, “Prayer for Rain.” On the other side are arrows coming down from the clouds denoting rain, and the word, “HOPI.” Macneil had a particular interest in the mythology of the Wild West and Native American cultures of the American southwest. This was reflected in his work, which was primarily in bronze. In fact, he was one of the first American artists to depict the American West in sculpture. His sculptures include likenesses of prominent figures, from various tribal leaders to a rider for the Pony Express. The old west looks good in medallic form.

 
Hopi Prayer for Rain, Hermon A. MacNeil (1866-1947), 1931, Bronze, 2.875 in. (7.3 cm) diam., Cleveland Museum of Art

 
[Image credit & copyright: Cleveland Museum of Art, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

It's Flashback Friday, and Twin Peaks Day! In honor of the hit television series Twin Peaks, enjoy these curios all about T.V. 

Title: Not for Long, My Forlorn
Artist: Kymia Nawabi (b. 1980)
Created: 2011
Medium: acrylic, crayon, glitter, ink and watercolor on paper mounted to box-panel
Dimensions: 48 x 48 in (121.9 x 121.9 cm)
 

Reality TV isn't all it's cracked up to be. Kymia Nawabi learned that lesson after winning the final season of the competitive art reality show Work of Art in 2011, with her exhibit and central painting, Not for Long, My Forlorn. Nawabi's fascination with "adopted gods, mythological creatures, and burial ceremonies from different cultures" mingle with the textures of a bone-white canvas, glittery dirt, and faded watercolor vulture feathers to create an unsettling and otherworldly burial scene. Her vision earned her a $100,000 award and a solo exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum in Brooklyn, New York. While many aspiring artists would find Nawabi's winnings a boon to their careers, an interview with Hyperallergic revealed her Work of Art buzz fizzled out soon thereafter. Instead of pursuing life as a reality TV celebrity, Nawabi continued working in mixed media, creating more fantastical scenes. Kudos to her for wanting to make something out of life, death, and the afterlife instead of selling out for a quick buck!

 

Image credit & copyright: Kymia Nawabi
 

Maybe life in the country isn’t always as charming as it seems. American artist Ivan Albright was born on this day in 1897. His painting above, The Farmer’s Kitchen, shows an old woman in a blue dress and an apron sitting on a chair by a stove. She is holding a handful of radishes in her left hand and a knife in the other while her eyes are focused on something out of frame. Albright was known for his dark, often macabre, paintings, filled with extreme detail in dim lighting. Many of the subjects he portrayed were older people whose aged appearance was pulled into extreme focus. Far from an idyllic depiction of a farmhouse kitchen, The Farmer’s Kitchen shows a cluttered and warped space, and the ambiguous expression of the woman could be interpreted as anything from boredom to despair. The lighting draws the eyes of the viewer to her wrinkled and rugged face and hands. It may not be a romanticized scene, but as Steinbeck once wrote, “There is more beauty in truth, even if it is a dreadful beauty.”

 
The Farmer’s Kitchen, Ivan Albright (1897-1983), 1934, Oil on canvas, Smithsonian American Art Museum

 
[Image credit & copyright: Ivan le Lorraine Albright, Gene Young, United States Department of the Treasury, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

It's Flashback Friday, and World Human Spirit Day! Enjoy these curios about religion around the world. 

Title: Priest's Crown
Artist: Unknown
Created: c. 1300s
Medium: Repoussé gilt copper with semiprecious stones
Dimensions: 11.5 x 7.75 in (29.2 x 19.7 cm)
Current location: Met Fifth Avenue, New York City, New York
 

Forget the jewels in the Tower of London; this Buddhist crown relies on techniques dating all the way back to the seventh century. Craftsmen in the Kathmandu Valley (modern-day Nepal) nailed large pieces of copper together and hammered them from the inside to form the intricate designs on the surface; this technique is known as the repoussé method. The ornate piece is replete with imagery and symbolism, including a Buddha wearing a crown of his own, and a four-pronged vajra at the very top. That means "thunderbolt" and "diamond" in Sanskrit—imagine the Buddhist version of Jupiter's scepter. This, and four other Buddhist crowns currently on view at the Met Fifth Avenue, date from the 13th to the 18th century and were all worn during sacred rituals by the most respected priests in Newar Buddhism, a religion still followed by many Nepalis. Newar Buddhists believed these spiritually powerful crowns would help high priests bring their communities closer to enlightenment. It was a heavy responsibility—quite literally, as some headpieces weighed up to five pounds, about twice the size of Queen Elizabeth's state crown!
 

Image credit & copyright: Metropolitan Museum of Art
 

Happy (almost) Valentine’s Day! Here’s a passionate piece appropriate for the day, one of several sculptures by Auguste Rodin depicting one of the oldest love stories ever told. Love and Psyche shows Eros, the Greek god of love, and Psyche, the Greek Goddess of the soul, in an embrace atop a bed of marble. Only Eros’s face is visible, but there are hints of Psyche’s hair flowing out from beneath him as she holds her arms around him. Rodin was one of the greatest sculptors of his time, despite struggling greatly early in his career to gain recognition. Now, he is rightfully given his due for his reinterpretation of the classical style, which combines elements of both neoclassicism and modern sculptures. His more famous works include The Thinker and The Age of Bronze, but Love and Psyche was also a well-received piece upon its debut, perhaps because it gave his lofty style a sentimental appeal. After all, who doesn’t love a good love story?

 
Love and Psyche,
Auguste Rodin (1840-1917), ca. 1884, Marble, 23.5 × 21.5 in. (59.7 × 54.6 cm),
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Auguste Rodin, Gift of Richard Anthony Strong and Alexander Milliken Stewart 1938, donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication

It's Flashback Friday, and almost Valentine’s Day! In honor of the holiday, enjoy these curios all about love and relationships. 

Title: Mature Age
Artist: Camille Claudel (1864 -1943)
Created: 1893
Medium: bronze sculpture
Dimensions: 51.57 x 76.77 x 30.7 in (131 x 195 x 78 cm)
Current location: Rodin Museum, Paris, France
 

Behind every great man is a tangled mess left in his wake. At least, that's one interpretation of the bronze sculpture Mature Age by French artist Camille Claudel, a companion in art and love of Auguste Rodin. Critics often see the patina figures as autobiographical representations: Claudel is the young woman pleading on her knees as Rodin is led away by his older wife. Claudel—who passed away on December 8, 1684—often had difficulties securing patronage for her work because of the sensual nature of her pieces, though Rodin himself was said to have reacted angrily upon seeing the Mature Age, and may have complained to the French ministry of fine arts to cancel funding she had received from them. Jealous, maybe? Of course, in spite of sabotaging some of her work and taking credit for others, Rodin, as a dominant male figure in the art world, was hardly the center of Claudel's universe. Other interpretations of Mature Age reflect on the allegorical nature of aging and loss among the three figures. Maybe we should change the phrase to "in front of every great woman lies an unforeseeable set of difficult circumstances"?

 

Image credit & copyright: Rodin Museum