Wherein Samantha Learns about Artists other than Hogarth

I’ve never really understood art. I can look at a picture or sculpture or painting and tell you whether or not I like it, but I’m pretty ignorant when it comes to genres and movements. When you’re in London, though, you learn to sink or swim pretty quickly in the art world. Thanks to Kellye (my art guru), I’ve learned a great deal more and can hopefully apply it to my classes in the future.

It’s really amazing how visual art is in constant conversation with the literary movements that coincide with it. Somehow, I knew that this was true, but never valued exactly how it worked. I’m still a work in progress, but my trip forced me to look at art from a different perspective, and I feel better for it.

Here are some of my favs (some of them I took myself, and others I ganked from the internet, as we weren’t allowed to bring cameras):

This is an “exquisite corpse,” a surrealist game where a paper is folded into thirds. Each person draws on a third, not knowing what the person before him has drawn, other than the edge lines. This one, featuring a creepy Alice was my favorite at the Tate Modern.

Dalou’s Peasant Woman Nursing a Baby (1873) caught my attention straight away. I was confused when I saw it in two different locations in the Victoria and Albert Museum. After reading the plaque (a good idea), I learned that there were actually two of them (and not that they were moving it around…). Dalou constructed the mold and then made different renditions in various mediums: this one is terra cotta, but there are also bronze and plaster ones throughout the world.









When we went into the Impressionism room at the National Gallery, I was confused. I couldn’t figure out what that painting of ugly sunflowers caused such a ruckus. I walked quickly around the room to avoid the throng. Then I turned around. From the other side of the room, the Van Gogh’s illuminated off the wall and seemed almost three dimensional. It looked like the were producing light. I was in awe. I’m glad I had the experience, as the paintings don’t translate into reproductions well. (Here’s A Wheatfield, with Cypresses anyway, my favorite.)

For obvious reasons, the following are some of the 1660-1900 paintings that caught my eye:

Canaletto’s London: Interior of the Rotunda at Ranelagh (1754). The build-up on this one is exquisite and it almost looks three dimensional.

Reynold’s Lady Cockburn and her Three Eldest Sons (1773).

Ingres’s Madame Moitessier (1856). You can’t see a single brush stroke on it. This is, quite possibly, the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen.

Egg’s Past and Present (1858), a triptych.