Isaiah’s Lips Anointed with Fire
Benjamin West, P.R.A.
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You can learn more about the entire series by West and M&G’s significant collection from the series HERE.
Tag Archives: 18th century
The Wedding Feast at Cana
Oil on canvas
Giovanni Domenico Piastrini
Roman, 1678-1740
This magnificent 18th-century Roman work may be a rare one by Giovanni Domenico Piastrini and betrays a strong connection to his teacher Benedetto Luti. Piastrini was arguably his best pupil, though very little survives to document his life or oeuvre. Some experts believe that certain passages (for example, the handling of the male figure at the left forefront of the table, the woman at the far right of the table, and the brushwork in the kneeling figure at the extreme right) are painted as if by Luti himself. Other portions, such as the bride and groom, betray a strong connection to the early work of Luti’s other student, Placido Constanzi. While Piastrini’s style is clearly dependent on that of his teacher and his fellow student, other elements of the painting are clearly of his own derivation.
Though so little is definitively known about the painting, the one surety is the subject. Piastrini illustrates the first of Jesus Christ’s miracles (though not a public one) at the wedding feast of a friend of the family. John’s Gospel (2:1-11) clearly says that Mary was present, and that Jesus and His disciples were invited. The distinction is subtle, but important to the story.
Mary seems to be especially close to the hosts, close enough to be concerned that the wine was gone, unlike a mere guest. So Mary goes to her Son with only a statement of the need; she sees no reason to spell out her request. She knows her son. Jesus’ calling His mother, “Woman,” may seem cold, but He addresses her the same way from the cross as He directs John to care for her, a tender act under horrific conditions. The question “What have I to do with thee?” may possibly be a rebuke, but only a very gentle one considering that He resolves her concern. He was here on earth to show that He was the Messiah, not to solve a banquet shortage. However, His relationship with His mother is such that she has utmost confidence in His compassion, even in situations of social crisis. Trustingly, she issues instruction to the servants, “Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it” (v. 5). Again, only a close friend would give another’s servants an order, especially of such an open-ended nature. Jesus may not have an obligation to solve the problem, but Mary apparently feels a responsibility to save her friends from embarrassment. And Jesus is touched with compassion for her.
Piastrini places Mary next to an older woman, probably the mother of the groom who is clearly enthralled with his bride. (And, she is apparently appreciative of her wedding necklace!) Mary’s eyes are downcast submissively (remember her submissive answer to Gabriel’s surprising news?), and her hands are in the classic pose of prayer. Perhaps Piastrini reflects the Catholic tradition of Mary as the intercessor to Christ for those on earth. She has certainly interceded for the hosts, but not in any way remotely connected to eternal salvation. It is doubtful that the artist’s rendering depicts the moment she asks her Son for help since the servants are posed to pour out the water-into-wine for the governor of the feast, according to Christ’s instruction.
The governor of the feast (in the green) is clearly discussing the matter of the empty wine vessel (made of fine silver to show the importance of the occasion). The servant on the left side reassures him that there is more wine ready to serve. No one else seems to be concerned, not even Mary—now. Presumably the stone water jars which now hold wine are too heavy to pour from, so the servant in the right foreground uses a smaller silver vessel to pour the beverage into the larger silver urn from which the serving pitcher can be filled.
John carefully relates that no one knows where the latest—and best—wine has come from. Except the servants. Christ has not revealed Himself to the general public for His “hour had not yet come.” But He did reveal Himself to the common man, as He always did in His ministry, finding in them a willingness to believe in His deity that the religious leaders of the day did not. Piastrini composes his work so that the common man and the miracle itself are in the foreground of the painting and thus, in the forefront of the viewer’s mind. Christ’s upraised hand in the iconic pose of blessing shows He not only blesses the feast with His provision, but also the marriage with His presence.
Whether by a single artist or as a collaboration, The Wedding Feast at Cana celebrates the early 18th-century Roman style. The brilliant coloration of fabrics, the monumental size (almost 6×12 feet!), the gestured poses of multiple figures, and the classical architecture serving as backdrop for the staged event all contribute to a masterful late Roman interpretation of this biblical banquet scene.
Karen Rowe Jones, M&G board member
Published in 2020
The Ascension
Benjamin West, P. R. A.
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To learn more about the entire series to which this painting belongs, visit here.
Justice and Temperance Overcoming Vice
Prudence and Fortitude Overcoming Evil
Oil on canvas
Sebastiano Conca
Roman, 1680–1764
Click on the links throughout the article to view additional artists’ works and reference material.
Although born in Gaeta, Italy in 1680, Sebastiano Conca received his early training in Naples as a student of Francesco Solimena. Conca’s teacher followed the style of his great Neapolitan predecessor, Luca Giordano as well as Giovanni Lanfranco and Mattia Preti, all of whom are represented in M&G’s collection.
Sebastiano eventually moved to Rome (along with his brother Giovanni) in 1706 to begin his own practice. He remained in Rome for about 45 years rising in popularity and becoming one of the most sought after artists of his day. Some of his most notable patrons included Cardinal Pietro Ottoboni, various members of the royal families of Spain, Portugal, and Poland, and even Pope Clement XI himself. He returned to Naples, his artistic roots, around 1752 where he remained the rest of his career. Considered his best work, the Coronation of St. Cecilia adorns the ceiling of the nave of the Basilica of St. Cecilia in Rome.
His style evolved from the Giordanesque influence of his early teacher, Solimena, to Baroque classicism and eventually the Rococo for his smaller works. He was not only an artist, but he was also twice the director of the Accademia di San Luca, a teacher (one of his most notable students being Pompeo Batoni), and a published author.
This pair of small, cabinet paintings appear to derive from four, large wall paintings Conca created for the Palazzo Lomellini-Balbi-Lamba-Doria in Genoa. While the four large works each feature an individual Virtue, these smaller pendants present them in pairs. Richard P. Townsend notes, “the painter’s combinations are particularly appropriate: prudence should always inform fortitude and justice should be dispensed with temperance.”
The four Cardinal Virtues are the foundation on which all others rest: Justice, Temperance, Prudence, and Fortitude. Artists and authors alike portray these virtues as women. Conca’s personification of the four Cardinal Virtues appears to be loosely based on Cesare Ripa’s Iconologia, which was the primary resource for many artists active in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries looking to personify virtue and vice.
Here Conca draws symbols from three different types of justice described in Ripa’s book. Justice sits on the left with her symbolic scales used to weigh and measure the two sides of a court case. The crown on her head and sword in her hand show her power and authority to execute the verdict. Resting beneath her lies the fasces (a group of wooden rods bundled together with an axe-blade protruding), the emblem of authority for magistrates in ancient Rome.
To the right, Temperance reclines holding a bridle by which she reigns in affections and passions with moderation and self-control. Clutched in the opposite hand, she holds a palm frond, a sign of victory in Roman culture. She is often portrayed tempering wine with water a task carried out by an angel in this work.
Crushed between them lies Vice, an immoral behavior or negative character trait. Together Justice and Temperance overcome Vice, depicted here by hiding her true face with a mask of deceit.
Aristotle describes prudence as “right reason applied to practice.” Conca’s Prudence features two characteristic attributes: a mirror and serpent. A mirror allows for self-examination from multiple angles. It reveals the truth about oneself. The serpent alludes to Matthew 10:16 where Christ tells the disciples to be “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.”
Fortitude, “strength of mind which enables one to bear adversity with courage,” sits beside Prudence, clothed in armor and holding a shield by which she is prepared to battle Evil. Fortitude is often portrayed near or leaning on a column which lends her support (in reference to the Biblical Samson). Her spear shows her “superiority gained by strength,” and the lion resting by her side expresses strength and courage.
An angel holds Evil bound with a chain at their feet showing the triumph of Prudence and Fortitude over Evil.
Rebekah Cobb, Guest Relations Manager
Published in 2016
Christ in the House of the Pharisee
Oil on canvas
Pierre Hubert Subleyras
French, active in Italy, 1699–1749
Click on the links throughout the article to view additional artists’ works and reference material.
As one of the eighteenth-century’s foremost French painters of portraits and religious works, Pierre Hubert Subleyras is considered a remarkable artist and rarely seen in American collections.
Pierre was introduced to the craft from his artist father, Matthieu Subleyras, and by age seventeen was signing his own works. In 1717, he joined the workshop of Antoine Rivalz, a history painter in Toulouse a few days journey west of his hometown, Saint-Gilles-du-Gard. Subleyras excelled under Rivalz’s training even earning the responsibility of executing his teacher’s designs and achieving an independent commission to decorate the ceiling of the chapel of the Pénitents Blancs in Toulouse, France.
At age 27, Subleyras moved to Paris, where he was awarded the Prix de Rome for his Moses and the Brazen Serpent (Musée des Beaux Arts, Nimes). This scholarship program initiated by King Louis XIV was given to the most promising French artists (painters, sculptors and architects) to study in Rome for a three to five year period.
Pierre left for Rome in 1728 to begin studies in the fall at the Académie de France, a branch of the Paris Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture where “pensioners” or students studied anatomy, life drawing, and classical antiquity as well as absorbed and participated in Rome’s thriving contemporary art scene. Subleyras stayed seven years—somewhat longer than the more standard 4-year term.
At the end of his Académie training in 1735 at age 36, he became engaged to the miniaturist and respected artist in her own right, Maria Felice Tibaldi; the two artists married four years later, which helped to anchor the Frenchman in Rome’s society, where he couldn’t be lured away from the city even by a deathbed request from his former teacher Rivalz or appealing mediations with the Saxon Court in Dresden nor the Spanish Court in Madrid.
Subleyras’ artistic reputation was earned primarily through religious commissions beginning with Roman churches and moving to religious orders, but he was also highly regarded and widely recognized for his portraits. Through his intellect and skilled work he became a central figure in the artistic and intellectual circles of Rome as evidenced by his varied commissions, election in 1743 to membership of the Accademia di San Luca, and acceptance into the Accademia dell’ Arcadia, an eighteenth-century Italian literary society.
His best known works include a formal portrait of Prince Frederick Christian of Saxony, portraits of Pope Benedict XIV (which were repeatedly reproduced), the Mass of St. Basil, and the monumental Supper in the House of Simon (nearly 7’x23’) commissioned by the Canons Regular of the Lateran for the refectory of their monastery of Santa Maria Nuova at Asti, Piedmont (and currently resides in the Louvre).
Since Subleyras’ workshop practice is yet uncertain, with questions about his making multiple, smaller copies of his large-scale masterpieces, it’s difficult to ascertain his reasons for repeating these works as well as if he or someone else, like his wife, participated in creating the variations. The Louvre painting is one of a number of his own works that he made his own prints and an engraving; like this present painting at M&G, variations also exist in the Pinacoteca Capitolina Museum in Rome, Boston College Museum, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.
Periodically, Christ in the House of the Pharisee is featured in the annual Living Gallery, an Upstate Easter program. The original painting in M&G’s Collection, is relatively small—about 2½’x4’. However, the life-size Living Gallery reproduction, scaled for live models, is approximately 12’ high by 25’ wide—closer to the dimensions of the Louvre’s version. The life-size stage tableau was created by local artist, Kevin Isgett, who relates his experience with Subleyras’ work:
“There is a baroque sense of overabundance—a sense of frenetic activity, servants running to and fro, guests interacting, and (almost lost in the chaos) the key part of the narrative: the woman anointing Christ’s feet. In analyzing the work, however, I wonder if that is not part of what Subleyras is trying to communicate. Unlike the disciples at the Last Supper who knew and loved Christ as the Messiah, the Pharisees viewed Him as a mere dinner guest. Thus, losing sight of Him amidst elegantly dressed characters and lavish gold and silver plates may be the most accurate interpretation of the scene.”
Subleyras died at a young 50 years, supposedly from overwork. Well-loved and well-known during his lifetime, he spent his entire career in Rome. He is not as familiar as his French contemporaries, but is still highly regarded today for his painterly style and refined, artistic sensibility.
Erin R. Jones, Executive Director
Published in 2015
Monks before a Fireplace
Oil on canvas
Alessandro Magnasco, called Il Lissandrino
Genoese, 1667–1749
Click on the links throughout the article to view additional artists’ works and reference material.
No matter the era or the medium, it seems you can always count on artists to challenge the status quo.
Alessandro Magnasco was born in Genoa, northern Italy, in 1667. His father Stefano was a minor artist who died when Magnasco was only five years old. Around the age of ten, Magnasco was sent to Milan to live under the care of a patron while he learned commerce. However, his interests lay along the same lines as his father’s, and before long he had convinced his patron to sponsor an apprenticeship for him with the renowned Mannerist painter, Filippo Abbiati, of Milan. By 1690, Magnasco had mastered his craft and had established himself as a portraitist. This phase of his career lasted only a brief time before he transitioned into his distinguished, celebrated style.
Magnasco’s style is something of an anomaly, even for the eclectic movement that is the Baroque. His is a nervous, loose brushwork that conveys fluid movement and hazy figures and settings. Murky tones pervade his paintings, with the occasional pockets of stark light and strong color. Arguably his most interesting characteristic is his choice of unusual subject matter.
In a time largely characterized by paintings of religious subject matter, Magnasco chose instead to focus on the common man, such as beggars and gypsies, and on some of the more obscure facets of contemporary life, such as shadowy synagogue interiors and scenes of monastic life. Interestingly, Magnasco also often chose to portray scenes charged with social commentary, going even so far as to treat highly controversial subjects—in his day as well as our own—as in his painting of an Inquisition torture scene. Magnasco seemed captivated by the mysterious, socially questionable, and the bizarre.
Monks before a Fireplace is characteristic of Magnasco’s mature style. His elongated figures are reminiscent of the mannerist El Greco. At the same time, his monochromatic palate and mysterious, almost ghoulish, atmosphere heralds the coming of nineteenth-century realist Francisco Goya. Here, Magnasco once again presents the common man in his paintings—humble monks instead of otherworldly saints. His figures possess a uniformity, functioning almost as a nameless, faceless unit. But on closer examination, the figures are strikingly distinct, suggesting the idiosyncrasies of the individuals within the group including the monk perusing his crinkled manuscript and the man warming his feet at the fire while toying with the resident cat. He captures a snapshot of a quiet moment in contemporary monastic life.
Indeed, Magnasco’s very essence seems almost out of place in his world, a nod to modernism from the late baroque era.
Katharine Golighty, former Docent & Guest Services Attendant
Published in 2015
