Curio Cabinet / Art Curio

Seems he was making waves rather than going with the flow. American artist John La Farge painted this dramatic scene of a Daoist master after learning about he philosophy in Japan. A Rishi Stirring Up a Storm depicts a man dressed in blue robes standing by the sea. Blue-green waves can be seen crashing in the background under a dark, gray sky. La Farge visited Japan in 1886 and studied Daoism under Okakura Kakuzō, a Japanese writer and philosopher. Inspired by the philosophy and by Japanese woodblock prints, he created richly textured waves by layering transparent watercolor to create a sense of depth. While the painting is a tribute to his Daoist studies, he may not have been the best student. He apparently mistook “Rishi” to be a title that could be given to anyone, when it was really the Japanese pronunciation of Liezi (Master Lie), the honorific name of Daoist philosopher Lie Yukou. Maybe La Farge was too busy doodling during his lessons.

 
A Rishi Stirring Up a Storm, John La Farge (1835–1910), 1897, watercolor and gouache over graphite, 10.75 x 15.31 in. (27.3 x 38.9 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio.

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Purchase from the J. H. Wade Fund 1939.267. Creative Commons Zero (CC0) designation, public domain.]

Artists can paint history, but sometimes they live through it. French painter Joseph-Marie Vien was once the favored painter of the king, but not even the French Revolution could slow him down. His piece above, Sweet Melancholy, depicts a young woman in a gold dress seated on a chair draped with a blue robe. She is looking down at the floor with her head resting on her right hand. Vien was a neoclassical painter known for his meticulously detailed historical paintings (although he also painted biblical and mythological scenes). Sweet Melancholy was made to be as accurate as possible in depicting ancient furniture and garments. For his exemplary skills, Vien was made the director of the Académie Royale and made the Premier peintre du Roi, which translates to “First painter of the King.” However, he received the appointment in 1789, just in time for the beginning of the French Revolution. Vien would be the last to hold this title, as the post and the Académie Royale were both dissolved during the revolution. That’s one way to be both first and last.

 
Sweet Melancholy
1756, Joseph-Marie Vien (1716–1809), 1756, oil on canvas, 26.75 x 21.62 in., The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Mr. and Mrs. William H. Marlatt Fund 1996.1. Public Domain, Creative Commons Zero (CC0) designation.]

April showers bring May flowers, but we prefer to indulge a little early. Dutch painter Ambrosius Bosschaert helped popularize flower paintings during his career, sharing the beauty of precious petals year-round. His piece above, Flowers in a Glass, is an oil painting depicting a bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase against a black background. Around the base are a few loose flowers and several insects, including a snail and a dragonfly. The flowers’ stems are faintly visible through the glass vase. Bosschaert was born in 1573 and was likely trained in painting from an early age by his father. When he was still young, his family moved to Middelburg in the province of Zeeland, which was known for its botanical gardens. There, he joined Saint Luke’s Guild, a group of painters and other artists, and combined his passion for painting with the area’s botanical bounty. Flowers like the ones in this painting were extraordinarily expensive in Bosschaert’s time, since non-native species were difficult to transport. Thus, his paintings were highly valued for showcasing rarefied arrangements that most people wouldn’t get to see in real life. This bouquet buffet is a feast for the eyes.

 
Flowers in a Glass, Ambrosius Bosschaert (1573–1621), 1606, Oil on copper, 14 x 11.56 in. (35.6 x 29.3 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of Carrie Moss Halle in memory of Salmon Portland Halle 1960.108. Public Domain, CC0 1.0 Universal.]

What’s this? Your guess is good as anyone else’s! Very little is known about this ancient marble statuette, possibly depicting a woman looking upward. The piece is a white marble carving in a roughly human shape. It has a wide head, thin neck, and a body that starts with wide shoulders which taper down into a point, like an arrowhead. This statuette is from the Bronze Age, which lasted from between 3300 BCE and 1200 BCE. During this time, very few groups of people carved marble. Sometimes called the The Stargazer, the statuette was found in Western Anatolia near the city of Kırşehir in Turkey. However, it’s possible that the statuette was actually made further west in Greece, where the artisans in the Cyclades carved similarly shaped idols out of marble. Marble was prized early on by the Greeks for its ability to take on a fine polish. The Greek word for it even means “shiny.” Like most other works of marble, The Stargazer was likely painted with vibrant colors at one point, but has now faded to a plain white. She may look stone-faced without paint, but she’s still beautiful.

 
Statuette of a Woman: "The Stargazer", c. 3000 BCE, Marble, 6.75 x 2.56 x 2.5 in. (17.2 x 6.5 x 6.3 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Leonard C. Hanna, Jr. Fund; John L. Severance Fund 1993.165. Public Domain CC0 1.0 Universal.]

Ciao! Thought to have been founded this day in 451 C.E., the city of Venice, Italy, has been inspiring artists for centuries with its natural and man-made wonders. The piece above, Piazza San Marco, Venice, shows the eponymous city square sparsely populated with small groups of people. Ornately designed buildings stand under a gray-blue sky. Attributed to Italian landscape painter Bernardo Bellotto, the painting includes some of the most famous structures in Venice. To the left is St. Mark's Basilica, at the center is the St Mark's Campanile (bell tower) and filling up the right side of the canvas is the Procuratie Nuove. Venice was once an independent republic ruled by the Doge of Venice, whose palatial residence is visible off in the distance of the painting. While the Venetian Republic fell in 1797, the city’s illustrious architecture keeps its legacy as an artistic and cultural hub alive to this day. It surely takes a special artist to depict the City of Canals in such accurate detail.

 
Piazza San Marco, Venice, Bernardo Bellotto (1721–1780), 1740, Oil on canvas, 53.62 x 91.56 in. (136.2 x 232.5 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: Bernardo Bellotto, The Cleveland Museum of Art, Leonard C. Hanna, Jr. Fund 1962.169. Public Domain, CC0 1.0 Universal.]

Here’s hoping you had a great Saint Patrick’s Day. Of course, there’s more to Ireland than St. Patrick and shamrocks. Take the word “Limerick,” for example. It may bring to mind clever rhymes, but the Irish town of Limerick was once famous for its textiles. For much of the 1800s, Limerick lace was considered very luxurious indeed. The Limerick lace above has been fashioned into a “V” shape. It features floral designs around its edges and its net. Much of the empty space in the net is filled with dots. Lace manufacturing was introduced to Limerick in 1829 by an English businessman named Charles Walker. He hired lacemakers from Nottingham to teach local seamstresses and other women how to make lace using a hybrid technique of sewing elaborate designs onto machine-made nets. For decades, Limerick lace was prized for its intricate details, but the industry fell into decline around the latter half of the century due to competition from manufacturers back in Nottingham. Since then, there have been several revivals in interest in Limerick lace, and there are still some smaller workshops that produce it to this day. After all, heritage matters more than net profit.

 
Machine Lace (Embroidered Net) Fichu, 19th century, Cotton embroidery in tambour stitch on white machine-made net, 29.5 x 50 in. (75 x 127 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of Mrs. Martha H. Jennings 1943.379. Public Domain, Creative Commons Zero (CC0) designation.

Well, at least he won’t wake up with any neck pain! French artist Odilon Redon created this scene featuring the character Orpheus from Greek mythology, a figure he portrayed multiple times throughout his career. Orpheus, is a pastel work featuring a human head with closed eyes resting by a lyre. In the background is a mountain beneath a purple sky. As the original Symbolist artist, Redon incorporated recurring themes and images throughout his body of work, with one of his favorites being a severed head. It’s no wonder, then, that he was so fixated by the story of Orpheus. Orpheus was a Greek hero whose head continued to sing after he was killed by a mob of women in Thrace. Redon was fascinated by the character’s story and seemed to be inspired by Orpheus’s dedication to his craft, which persisted even after death. Then again, there’s something to be said for a quiet, nonviolent retirement.

 
Orpheus, Odilon Redon (1840–1916), c. 1903–10, Pastel on brown paper, 27.06 x 22.37 in. (68.8 x 56.8 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain.]

Everyone needs a hobby, right? Well, that was just as true in ancient Egypt. Just ask Amenemope, the vizier to Amenhotep II. The photo above shows a paint box made of wood with hieroglyphs at the top. There are five different colors of paint, and the contents have left stains on the surface of the wood. Like many of his contemporaries in Egypt’s upper class, Vizier Amenemope was an avid painter. When he wasn’t busy advising the pharaoh on affairs of state, he was busy with a brush. Ancient Egyptian paint was made from whatever materials were most easily accessible, mostly minerals mined from the Earth. The red paint cake is made of red ochre, also known as red iron oxide, while the blue comes from calcium copper silicate, also known as Egyptian blue frit. The green is a combination of yellow ochre clay and Egyptian blue frit, and the two black cakes are made of carbon black in different degrees of coarseness. Some historians believe that Egyptian blue frit was the first synthetic pigment, and it’s commonly found in Egyptian art due to its long-lasting color. From temples to art supplies, the ancient Egyptians really made things to endure.

 
Paint Box of Vizier Amenemope, c. 1427–1401 BCE, Boxwood with inscription inlaid in Egyptian blue, .875 x 8.25 x 1.43 in. (2.2 x 21 x 3.6 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of the John Huntington Art and Polytechnic Trust 1914.680, The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain. CC0 1.0 Universal.]

Here’s to art! Annibale Carracci’s name might not be as well remembered as his contemporaries, but this Italian painter was one of the most significant figures of the 16th and 17th centuries. His piece above, Boy Drinking, shows a young man with dark hair dressed in a white shirt. In his right hand, he is holding a decanter filled with amber liquid, and with his left hand, he is pouring a drink into his mouth. Carracci is best remembered as an artist who went against the artificially-smooth grain of the Mannerism style that dominated Renaissance art in his time. Mannerism valued an exaggerated, overly-idealized version of the human form. Carracci, by contrast, valued drama and natural expression. Carracci was well-regarded in his time and didn’t need anyone to defend his honor, but perhaps he was seeking to fend off potential critics with this painting, which includes realistic, detailed reflections on the glass surfaces. Whatever the case, it’s a refreshing change of style.

 
Title, Annibale Carracci (c. 1560–1609), 1582–83, Oil on canvas, 21.93 x 17.18 in. (55.8 x 43.7 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: Public Domain. This image is made available under a Creative Commons Zero (CC0) designation.]

Forget the size of the dog in the fight, this brawl is about the size of the horse. This painting by 19th century French artist Théodore Géricault is a grittier-than-usual portrayal of horses. As its name suggests, Fighting Horses, shows a dispute between the massive animals. A white horse is shown thrashing about with its face away from the viewer. To the right, another horse is lying on the ground while a man holds up a whip at another pair of horses that are fighting each other. Aside from being an acclaimed Romantic painter, Géricault was also an avid rider. He usually depicted horses as the majestic, noble mounts of jockeys and aristocrats. In this scene, he shows the creatures’ wilder, more violent side. Even though the scene includes a man attempting to control the chaos, the animals are clearly beyond his control. Perhaps this piece was Géricault’s way of reminding viewers that our mastery over these boisterous beasts is more tentative than we realize. A Romantic notion, for sure.

 
Fighting Horses, Théodore Géricault (1791–1824), c. 1820, Watercolor over graphite, 8.56 x 11.56 in. (21.7 x 29.4 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Charles W. Harkness Endowment Fund 1929.13, Creative Commons Zero (CC0) designation, Public Domain.]

Does this Buddha look a little… Greek to you? It’s not your imagination, you’re just looking at an example of Gandharan—also known as Greco-Buddhist—art. The statue above shows Buddha wearing a flowing robe while standing with his right arm raised, palm facing forward. The Buddha’s hair is wavy and his earlobes hang low. Gandhara was once the name of a region in northwest Pakistan. Being located between the kingdoms of ancient India and the Mediterranean, the area was a cultural crossroads of the ancient world. Over the centuries, Gandhara was ruled by Persia, conquered by Alexander the Great, and ruled by multiple groups from the surrounding regions. This particular statue, created sometime in the 2nd century CE, bears distinctly Hellenistic elements. The wavy hair, the draping robe, and softer facial features were likely introduced by traders and other travelers. Though it’s not widely talked about today, Gandharan art went on to influence later depictions of Buddha and other deities. It seems the world has always been small.

 
Standing Buddha, 150–200 CE, Schist, 47 1/8 in. (119.7 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of Morris and Eleanor Everett in memory of Flora Morris Everett 1972.43. CC0 1.0 Universal, Public Domain.]

It’s a busy scene from a busy man. German artist Lucas Cranach was a prolific painter with his own atelier, but he kept busy outside the workshop as well. His piece above, Hunting near Hartenfels Castle, depicts a wooded area with a river winding through it. A castle is visible in the distance, and people dressed in rich attire hunt deer, boars, and bears using crossbows, horses, and dogs. Born in 1472, Cranach lived for most of his life in Wittenburg, Germany, where he was the favored artist of Friedrich the Wise, Johann the Steadfast, and Johann Friedrich the Magnanimous. The painting above actually features Johann Friedrich the Magnanimous and his wife during a hunt with their fellow nobles. Unusual for an artist, Cranach also devoted his time to a variety of ventures outside the artistic world. Among his businesses were an apothecary and a publishing firm, but he also dabbled in politics, serving as burgomaster multiple times. He wasn’t one of those starving artists you often hear about, that’s for sure.

 
Hunting near Hartenfels Castle, Lucas Cranach (1472–1553), 1540, Oil, originally on wood, transferred to masonite, 46 x 67 in. (116.8 x 170.2 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: Lucas Cranach, The Cleveland Museum of Art, John L. Severance Fund 1958.425, Creative Commons Zero Designation, Public Domain.]

Dead men tell no tales, but their sarcophagi might. That’s the case with this coffin, which once held the remains of an ancient Egyptian woman named Nesykhonsu. The image above shows her open coffin with the lid on the left. The coffin is in the shape of a person with a face painted on it. The outer and inner surfaces are covered in paintings and hieroglyphs. If there was ever a group of people who wanted to be remembered even in death, it was the ancient Egyptians. Elaborate coffins or sarcophagi like the one above were reserved for nobles and royalty, and the images on them were for more than decoration. In this example, the writings reveal that Nesykhonsu once held the titles "Lady of the House" and "Singer of the Choir of Mut the Great," while the paintings depict scenes from the life of the deceased. Of course, an auspicious coffin such as this requires a divine touch, which can be seen in the jackals (which represent the god Anubis) and other religious imagery. It’s like being buried with your own obituary.

 
Coffin of Nesykhonsu, c. 976–889 BCE, Gessoed and painted sycamore fig, 27 9/16 in. (70 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image Credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of the John Huntington Art and Polytechnic Trust 1914.714, Public Domain, Creative Commons Zero (CC0).]

What’s the matter? Cat got your head? As shocking as it may seem, human sacrifice was surprisingly common in ancient civilizations around the world. Artistic objects were even created specifically to aid in the process, like the piece above. It’s an aptly-named sacrificer container shaped like a cat-headed figure holding a human head in its hands. The vessel is made of wood with reddish tints throughout. Colored with cinnabar, it was created and used in the 8th or 9th century by the Wari people during ritual sacrifices to collect blood. Human sacrifices were common in Andean cultures, but they were far from the only ones to practice it. The Aztecs were famous for making blood sacrifices to their gods. On the other side of the world in ancient Egypt, pharaohs were buried with servants who were entombed alive. In parts of ancient Greece, criminals and disabled people were thrown off cliffs under the belief that it would prevent natural disasters. The good old days really weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

 
Sacrificer Container, c. 770–890, Wood and cinnabar, 4.25 x 2.75 x 2.93 in. (10.8 x 7 x 7.5 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, John L. Severance Fund 2007.193, Public Domain (CC0).]

Stop monkeying around—that baboon is a god! This statue depicts Minemheb, an official in the court of Amenhotep III, who ruled Egypt between 1390 and 1353 BCE. The statue is carved out of granodiorite, and shows a man kneeling with his hands on a statue of a baboon on a pedestal. There are hieroglyphics at the front and at the base of the pedestal. Amenhotep III’s reign was a peaceful period defined by the pharaoh’s diplomatic endeavors and extensive trade with distant cultures. To celebrate his 30th jubilee, the pharaoh appointed Minemheb the chief of construction on a temple dedicated in his honor. Minemheb likely commissioned this statue to commemorate the auspicious appointment, and his choice of animal reflects that. The baboon was often used to represent Thoth (usually depicted with a human body and the head of an ibis), the Egyptian god of—among other things—writing and learning. If you were ever going to ask a baboon for help drafting architectural plans, it should probably be this one.
 
Statue of Minemheb, c. 1391–1353 BCE, Granodiorite, 17.68 x 6.56 x 11.12 in (45 x 16.6 x 28.3 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Leonard C. Hanna, Jr. Fund 1996.28, CC0 1.0 Universal, The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of his or her rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law.]

This is pretty artistic… for an organized crime ring. The last member of an art theft ring that operated for two decades has turned himself in six months after prosecutors filed charges against the ring’s members. Nicholas Dombek surrendered himself at the Lackawanna County Prison in Scranton, Pennsylvania, where he will remain while awaiting trial. Dombek and his cohorts are responsible for millions of dollars worth of theft from museums across the U.S. They were only caught after investigators found the blood of one of the accused on a broken glass display case back in 2015.
 
Among the stolen art pieces are paintings by the likes of Andy Warhol and Jackson Pollock, but the criminals have also stolen sports memorabilia, including nine World Series rings, that once belonged to Yogi Berra of the New York Yankees. Like something out of a thriller movie, the thieves conducted their heists by first performing reconnaissance on museums, then breaking in after hours, sometimes in disguises. Once inside, they would smash through glass cases or simply lift paintings right off of gallery walls. Many of the stolen pieces are still unaccounted for, and many have likely been sold to private collectors, meaning that they’re unlikely to be recovered. Allegedly, the group often melted down jewelry, trophies, and other items made of precious metals to sell them discreetly. According to authorities, Berra’s rings may have been destroyed this way. Dombek is also accused of burning a Jasper Cropsey painting from 1871 worth $500,000 in case it could be used as evidence against him.
 
As prolific as they were, though, they have nothing on some of history’s greatest art heists. In 1911, Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa was stolen by three Italians who believed that the painting had been stolen by Napoleon during his campaigns, though it was actually purchased by King Francis I upon the artist’s death. In 1994, Edvard Munch’s The Scream was taken from the National Museum in Oslo while the police were distracted by the Winter Olympics. The biggest art heist in history occurred in 1990, just a stone’s throw away from Pennsylvania in Boston, Massachusetts, when thieves broke into the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and stole $500 million worth of art by Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Manet. Unlike the previous two, however, these paintings have never been recovered. So, appreciate art—you never know when something will be gone for good.

 
[Image description: A digital illustration of a hand stealing a lightbulb from inside a statue’s head.] Credit & copyright: Mohamed_hassan, Pixabay

It would take a seasoned artist to create a piece like this. There are many ways to create a glazed surface on pottery, and one method involves a handful of something everyone has in their kitchen: salt. The piece above is a white stoneware dish with an intricate design meant to resemble a woven basket. Along the outer rim of the plate, there are square cutouts in a grid pattern. Salt glazing was once a popular way to create a desirable sheen on the surface of stoneware. This was done by throwing salt into the kiln during the hottest part of the firing process, during which the kiln could reach temperatures as high as 2,500 degrees. At those temperatures, the sodium from the salt binds with the silica in the clay to form a glassy surface, although the process also creates a texture similar to that of an orange peel. Due to its relative affordability, salt glazed stoneware was a popular alternative to porcelain. And no worries, it can still be enjoyed by those on a low-sodium diet.

 
Plate, 1760, Salt-glazed stoneware, Diameter: 12 in. (30.5 cm.); Overall: 1.68 in. (4.3 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of Brenda and Evan H. Turner 1998.257, CC0 1.0 Universal, Public Domain]

You could say this is a sketchy bunch to ring in the new year with. Actually, while this may look like a hurried sketch, German artist Max Beckmann created this piece via a technique called drypoint. Prosit Neujahr 1917 (Happy New Year 1917), shows a group of people with noisemakers. They’re dressed in formal attire, with the figure on the bottom right wearing a military uniform and an eye patch. The image is in black and white, with an abstract style featuring exaggerated shapes, soft outlines, and rough crosshatching. Beckmann was a pioneer of modern art who produced much of his work while in exile after fleeing Nazi Germany. Early in his career, he explored various techniques in printmaking, including drypoint. This method uses a diamond tipped needle to scratch rough, blurred lines on a metal plate. The lines are covered in ink, then a piece of paper is pressed on top of it. This produces soft, fuzzy lines that look like they were drawn with a pen instead of printed. It also allows the artist to work quickly and improvise as they draw.
Of course, that’s just scratching the surface of what you can do with this technique.

 
Prosit Neujahr 1917 (Happy New Year 1917), Max Beckmann (1884–1950), 1917, Drypoint, 11.75 x 14.56 in. (29.8 x 37 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of The Print Club of Cleveland 1975.53, CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain.]

This family is positively glowing. Literally. This interpretation of Christianity’s famous nativity scene was painted by Early Netherlandish artist Gerard David in the 15th century. In The Nativity, two men and a woman are kneeling with a baby on the ground. Two smaller beings are kneeling by the baby, facing away from the viewer. A city is visible in the background, and an angel is in the sky above. Medieval paintings are full of iconography and symbolism, and were not meant to be literal, accurate representations of a scene. For example, Joseph, the man with the halo, was likely painted to resemble a donor—a person who commissioned or helped fund the painting. The city in the background is meant to be Jerusalem, but it’s made to look like a medieval city in Europe. Even the clothes shown in the painting are more European than what would have been worn in the Middle East at the time of Jesus’s birth. Finally, note that while Joseph has a plain band for a halo, both Mary and Jesus have more ornate halos due to their elevated status in Christianity. Imagine outranking your parents as a baby.

 
The Nativity, Gerard David (1450/60–1523), c. 1485–90, Oil on wood panel, 33 9/16 x 23 1/2 in. (85.2 x 59.7 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Leonard C. Hanna, Jr. Fund 1958.320, CC0 1.0 Universal, Public Domain]

He’s more jolly than he looks! Italian painter Carlo Crivelli created this gilded portrait of Saint Nicholas in the 15th century. Saint Nicholas of Bari depicts a man dressed in elaborate Catholic vestments holding a white staff and a book. His cloak is red and gold with intricate patterns, and he has white hair and a beard. Crivelli’s interpretation of Saint Nicholas shows the figure’s sterner side, though it’s unlikely to be a much more accurate depiction of the saint than the modern versions of him in red and white. Saint Nicholas was the bishop of Myra in the 4th century, and is the basis of Santa Claus as he is known today. Far from the North Pole, Myra was located in modern-day Turkey, so Saint Nicholas was unlikely to travel by sleigh. However, he was known for his generosity, particularly toward children. Today, he is the patron saint of children and sailors, and in some countries, presents are given to children on December 6, which is Saint Nicholas Day. From the past to the present, he’s certainly the world’s most-painted saint.

 
Saint Nicholas of Bari, Carlo Crivelli (c. 1430/35–1495), 1472, Tempera and gold leaf on wood panel, 37.87 x 12.62 in. (96.2 x 32 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: Carlo Crivelli, The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of the Hanna Fund 1952.111, CC0 1.0 Universal, Public Domain]