Articles by: Chelsea

The Venus of Willendorf

The Venus of Willendorf

Inspired by a college classmate’s ventures into daily blogging and a thought-provoking blog entry on Smarthistory.org, I’m going to give this daily blogging thing a try with “The Daily Label”.  I’ll be writing a (hopefully) daily, spunky label-style post on one artwork, and at the end I’ll pose one of the questions I might ask you if I were giving you a docent tour in front of the piece I just wrote about.  Respond away (to both the question and the daily label idea) in the comments!

venusofwillendorf
Venus of Willendorf, at the Naturhistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria. Image by Wikipedia User MatthiasKabel via Wikipedia.

The so-called Venus of Willendorf is one of the oldest and most famous ladies in all of art history, and she’s small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.  Her small size gives us an important clue to the people who made her: she’s portable, hinting that her makers moved around a lot (hunter-gatherers, in other words).  Her 4-inch high frame isn’t the most “realistic” of figures: her female attributes are quite exaggerated.  On top of that, creating figurines of women was much more popular than creating ones of men.  No one knows quite why this is–but most guess that it has something to do with the culture’s great reverence for women’s ability to bear children.

And where does her name come from?  Like almost every single older work of art, this isn’t the name the artist gave her, but rather the name that stuck after her discovery.  Willendorf is the place in Austria where she was found (she now resides in the Naturhistorisches Museum, Vienna).  As for Venus, the ancient Roman goddess of love, she predates classical mythology by over 20,000 years–prehistoric female figures found in the 1920s, like this one, were often bestowed with the name ‘Venus’.

Answer me this What do you think it is is it about this diminuitive statue that has stood the test of time and fascinated people for so long? Does it draw you in the same way?

References & Resources
Gardner’s Art Through the Ages
Christopher L. C. E. Witcombe’s Venus of Willendorf page

Wednesday, July 29, 2009 11 comments
A Beach Read for the Art Historian

A Beach Read for the Art Historian

hovingmummies

Chick lit? Romance novels? Not for the art historian or museum professional, surely!  If you’re looking for a juicy read that you can apply to your day job, look no further than (the regrettably out of print) Making the Mummies Dance by Thomas Hoving.  I’ve been looking for a copy of this book for years, and finally found it for only five bucks among the vast shelves of my new favorite bookstore.  This book not only kept me sane through a week alone in my new apartment without TV or internet, it helped me get back into museum mode after a month of doing little more than catching up on Bravo marathons post-graduation.  

This wonderfully gossipy tell-all from the director who revolutionized the Metropolitan Museum of Art between 1967-77 is readable, informative, and has all the famous and infamous names of the 60′s and 70′s. Hoving doesn’t shy from telling every detail, good or bad, about his former curators, trustees, donors, and enemies — and he’s also not shy about his own accomplishments. I found Hoving’s self-confidence more amusing than annoying, and in my opinion it was often justified: he did, after all, expand the Met’s encyclopedic collections as well as its campus, truly pushing the Met into the household name it is today  Either way, it’s not hard to get past the boasting (to his credit, he does identify what he thinks were his mistakes) and simply enjoy this conversational confessional, with its glimpse into the inner workings of the glittery world of Museum trustees and executives, who jetsetted back and forth between countries every other week, courted donors with grand parties, and built palatial palaces for art in an age before recessions and budget cuts.  Definitely a must-read for any museum professional or museum lover.

Making the Mummies Dance, Thomas Hoving, 1994. Buy from Amazon

Thursday, July 16, 2009 2 comments
New Layout: Patience Please!

New Layout: Patience Please!

Although we’ve had a bit of a hiatus for the past month or so, we’ll be back to posting soon. For now, I’m implementing a new layout — and ask for your patience, as there will likely be some bugs as I work to fix it live. This new layout should present some exciting new possibilities for the site, and I look forward to posting some new thoughts very soon! Until then, thanks for understanding. Let us know what you think of the new layout in a few days when it’s complete!

Right image: Preparation photo from Thomas Hirschhorn, Cavemanman, 2002, at the Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh (Photo courtesy CMoA’s Flickr stream)

Tuesday, May 26, 2009 0 comments
Guest Post at Blogs.com

Guest Post at Blogs.com

I recently wrote a guest post over at Blogs.com, on my top ten favorite art history and museum-related blogs.  Check it out here, and let us know what you think of the list.

Sunday, March 29, 2009 3 comments
A Late Vermeer — Or is it?

A Late Vermeer — Or is it?

We read Martin Gladwell’s Blink for my museum studies seminar — a bestseller that focuses on the importance of those inexplicable moments of intinct. In the first chapter, he talks about the Getty Kouros  controversy.  Curators at the Getty, looking over the Greek statue for months, became convinced of its authenticity and purchased it at great price; yet others, such as Thomas Hoving, former director of the Metropolitan, saw it at first glance and simply knew it could not be real.  Whether or not the Kouros is a forgery or not remains unknown, but Gladwell argues that those first glace, gut-instinct moments should not be ignored.

Attributed to Vermeer, A Young Woman Seated at the Virginals, currently at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Click image for larger view)

I had a “blink” moment in front of the controversial Vermeer now on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which I wrote about a few months ago.  As I walked through the Italian Renaissance rooms to the Dutch Golden Age galleries, I was completely ready to dismiss the Vermeer as a fake.  After all, in reproductions we’d viewed in my seminar, it looked so preposterous: a huge yellow shawl, blank walls, ringlets in her hair and those hands (click the image to the right to view it closeup, and you’ll understand what I mean).  But when I walked in to the room, turned the corner, and marched straight up to the little painting, the first thought that popped into my mind was: Wow, it really is a Vermeer.

It took me a good twenty minutes or more in the room — happily, surrounded by almost all of the Met’s authenticated Vermeers for comparison — to put my fingers on exactly why my gut instinct was so positive.  The second thought in my mind was when I looked at the ribbons in the figure’s hair.  They are painted with such care but at the same time such simplicity — a single pulling of bright red paint, a few daubs of white — that immediately made me think of a very similar detail in the Louvre’s Lacemaker (see gallery below): the red and white threads pooling over the pincushion are painted with just as much care.  Interestingly, the ringlet hairstyle I’d originally considered so odd appears in that very painting, too. Moreover, the Lacemaker is about the same size as this intimate, small painting.

Saturday, March 14, 2009 3 comments