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.

As for her hands and the strange, almost blurry quality of the painting style — both are actually pretty consistent with the late style of Vermeer.  The Woman at the Virginals (see gallery below) in the National Gallery in London is a prime example of this late style: glassy eyes, a somewhat vacant expression, less outright attention to anatomy (those hands), and a thicker, flatter, and less paint-dappled touch than in earlier works like the Rijksmuseum Maid with a Milk Pitcher, where even loaves of bread seem to sparkle in midday light.  But they do retain some of Vermeer’s well-known style, especially in the soft quality of light.  Just a few canvases over from the Young Woman at the Virginals is the Met’s own Study of a Young Woman (see gallery below).  The soft contour of her cheek against the black background — identical to that of the infamous Girl with a Pearl Earring in the Hague — can barely be called a contour, as it melts into a soft non-edge of light.  I found that same quality (though not quite as stunning) in the curls and neck of the Young Woman in question.

Of course, I guess a forger could have looked at the late Lacemaker and Woman at the Virginals and decided to create some sort of merging of the two: the hands and virginal theme of the London piece, with the size, hairstyle and tiny detailing (down to the very same colors) of the Louvre work.  It’s not totally out of the question.  But even as I stood in front of that painting trying to play devil’s advocate of my first gut reaction, I was sucked in by the ribbons and the soft, melting outlines of her face into the wall behind her — feelings I have to say I’ve only really felt in front of real Vermeers.  And I couldn’t help but remember Gladwell’s Blink and the importance of first impressions that we’d discussed in my seminar.

Of course, I’m an undergrad, albeit one with a great love of Vermeer — so I’m certainly not trying to put myself at the same level of Thomas Hoving or Walter Liedtke, curator of Northern Art at the Met, who just published this work in his recent monograph on the famous Dutch artist, adding that the odd yellow shawl was probably painted over this “minor” late work of Vermeer.  Who knows if this work is a forgery or not? — I certainly don’t, and maybe we never will know for sure; but till then, I’m content to think fondly of those gorgeous ribbons, the softness of her curls against the whitewashed wall, and the memories they stir up about the Vermeers I was lucky enough to see in Paris and the Netherlands.

What do you think? Have you seen this “new” Vermeer? Tell us your thoughts in the comments…

Photos from the Met and Reference Comparisons

The Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium holds some of the finest Flemish and French art in Europe.  Ever wondered what these masterpieces look like up close?  Not to worry — here are shots of some of my favorite works in their collection, as well as many of the beautiful museum itself.  The building, located in Brussels, in fact houses two museums: the Museum of Ancient Art and the Museum of Modern art (explained in the captions below).  This is the second in the Art History Blog’s series called Art in Real Life, which aims to give context to some of the world’s greatest masterpieces of art.

Click on any of the pictures below to open the gallery; click next (or type “n” on your keyboard) to view the next photo.

TAHB’s Art in Real Life series: Paris | Brussels | Rome

About a year ago, I took a Vermeer seminar in which we discussed all of the works in Vermeer’s ouevre — even those most unlikely candidates… one of which was the piece at left.  This small painting surfaced most recently in 2004 in an auction at Sotheby’s, was sold to a private bidder, who sold it again, and has been under the radar ever since.

Until now, that is: this controversial little painting is on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art until around June.  Walter Liedtke, the curator of Dutch paintings at the Met, as well as the former paintings conservationist of the Rijksmuseum, endorse this painting as a late, authentic Vermeer.

I haven’t seen it myself yet, but I can definitely tell you I’ll be at the Met sooner rather than later to catch a glimpse of it.  Until then, share your thoughts — is it real, or as some art historians contend in this post-van Meergeren era of Vermeer studies, probably a fake?

A Young Woman Seated at the Virginals, at the Met until June | Via CultureGrrl
(If you’re interested in the provenance of this work, see this article from the Sotheby’s sales catalogue.)

Here’s one more reason I have to go to Tokyo, and soon.  The Museum Lab, a joint project between the Louvre and Dai Nippon Printing, is an experimental space in Tokyo, Japan that combines the high art of the Louvre with brand new technology.  Exhibitions change every four to five months, and focus on one sole artwork, surrounded by multimedia setups that present extensive research on the painting or sculpture by the Louvre art historians.

The current exhibition is on The Slippers by Samuel von Hoogstraten.  Because you have to pay to get into the Museum Lab “museum” area, the descriptions on the websites are teasers rather than thorough, but are nonetheless quite intriguing… You can learn about the Dutch Golden Age and its painting style, step into the room van Hoogstraten presents–exploring the importance of perspective  for the artist (see above image), and even a space where you can share your own interpretations of the symbols/objects within the work.

I’m completely fascinated by these creative blends between art and technology–so I really wish I had the extra cash to take a trip to Tokyo and check out this museum!  Hopefully this experiment will continue for a while (there have been four previous exhibitions, including a Gericault and a Titian) so we can all continue to see what new innovations this space can create.  I’ll certainly have my eye on it–I wonder if any of these technologies will be offered or will catch on and be developed for other museums around the world?

Museum Lab website

Who says art history and celebrity gossip don’t mix?

Just over a month ago at the Cannes Film Festival, this picture of Brad Pitt and the expecting Angelina Jolie was taken as the happy couple made their way down the carpet. Someone at PerezHilton.com thought that their pose, Angelina’s green dress, and most importantly, her swelling stomach, were reminiscent of Jan Van Eyck’s masterpiece “The Arnolfini Wedding Portrait” (1434).

While this comparison is entertaining, it actually brings up a few key points about the painting. This painting is commonly accepted as a document of sorts, acting as a witness to the marriage of this couple. There is some scholarly debate over who is actually depicted in this bed chamber, but it is agreed upon that this is a marriage scene. Interestingly, Brad and Angelina are not married, and have vowed not to wed until everyone is entitled to an official and legal marriage to whomever they choose.

Another interesting point of comparison is the “baby bump” seen in both images. While it is widely known that Angelina’s is due to pregnancy, it is mainly agreed upon that the lady in the painting was not pregnant. She is most likely just demonstrating what the ideal of female beauty was at the time. In contemporary paintings, a more rounded and fertile-looking woman was the ideal, especially as a new wife whose job it was to provide heirs. She is also leaning back and thrusting her stomach out to display the bunched up fabric she is wearing, which served as a clear indication of her wealth and status.

Like many Northern paintings of this time period, the Van Eyck piece is full of miniscule details that really deepen the understanding of this piece as a “wedding certificate” of sorts, and I highly suggest looking into it further. The level of intricacy is astounding, and truly makes this piece a masterpiece.

My favorite part of this unlikely comparison is the discussions on the website. Literally hundreds of posts respond to this juxtaposition, many of which use Art Historical backgrounds to discuss the points I mentioned above, in addition to many others. It’s nice (and a bit surprising) to see an Art Historical debate running rampant on a celebrity gossip website.

After a bit of delving, it seems that the picture of this super celebrity couple and the painting of a respectable Netherlandish husband and wife have less in common than is apparent at first glance. But it is interesting that Brangelina triggered someone to make this connection, proving that art really can serve as a medium for discussion of daily life, even 600 years later.

Picture and full comments originally posted on PerezHilton.com