Two Angels with Banner
Unknown English, 19th Century
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Tag Archives: 19th century
Watch this video to learn how Dr. Karen Rowe “reads” one of the most intriguing works in our Museum & Gallery collection.
Gustave Doré (who published his first drawings at age 15) went on to become the most sought-after illustrator of the mid-19th century.
Isaiah’s Lips Anointed with Fire
Benjamin West, P.R.A.
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The Resurrection
Vasiliy Fedotovich Il’in and D. Tverskoy
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Sir Henry Irving as Richard III, Duke of Gloucester
Edwin Long, R. A.
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Vashti Refuses the King’s Summons
Oil on canvas
Edwin Long, R.A.
English, 1829-1891
Vashti showcases Edwin Long’s interest in archeological discovery, religious history, and female beauty on a grand scale, interests that reflect those of the Victorian era in which he lived. And the story of the two queens of Xerxes, king of Persia, is tailor made for both his interests and his skills. Like other religious painters of the era, such as William Holman Hunt, Long actually visited the Holy Land to gain firsthand knowledge. He combined this trip with various print sources such as volume III of George Rawlinson’s The Five Great Monarchies of the Ancient Eastern World (1862-67) and Austen Henry Layard’s studies from Nineveh in order to create this painting of convincing Orientalism. Originally exhibited at Burlington House in 1879 with its companion piece, Queen Esther, the two paintings taken together (though not exhibited side by side) offer food for thought both on the characters of these impressive women and the critical period in which they lived.
Vashti opens the story of Esther with a dramatic refusal to appear at her husband’s banquet for the rulers of the Persian kingdom. Whether she refuses out of modesty (her crossed arms seem to support this position) or because she herself is hosting a banquet for the wives of the rulers, her refusal is seen as a harbinger of marital unrest in the kingdom if her disobedience goes unanswered. So the king is persuaded to depose her as queen and seek a new one. There are several indications that Vashti recognizes the serious implications of her rebellion. She is remonstrated by her maidens, there is an apparent altercation at the door between those delivering her refusal and those demanding her acquiescence, and her body language suggests that she is afraid of what is to come.
The symbolism so greatly loved by the Victorians comes into play through the great lion on which she sits. An emblem associated by the Persians with their great power, the lion reflects both the power that has made her queen and the power which she will be unable to thwart. Though the lion is itself slain and has lost its power over her, even serving as a bench cushion; one lone woman cannot stand against an Eastern potentate. Her name which means “Beautiful One” in Persian appropriately reflects her physical beauty, likely the avenue to her queenly position. However, beauty is hardly a weapon against the mighty Persians. Or is it?
Consider the story of Hadassah or Esther as most know her today. An entire book of the Bible, one in which there is no direct mention of Jehovah, chronicles a few brief years of a young Jewish maiden who had “come to the kingdom” (Esther 4:14) at a crucial time, not just as a result of the whim of the queen. Long means for viewers to examine these women in light of each other. A cursory glance reveals that the two paintings are meant as companions: the matching frames, the seated central figures, the inquisitive gaze and pose of the servant girl, the visible sandaled foot of both women. Even the “X” created by the arms of Vashti and the jewelry of Esther juxtapose these two women and their plights: one is apparently guarding her beauty from the ravaging eyes of the rulers, the other finds her beautiful figure emphasized in the king’s competition.
Both women are “caught” by their positions though their gazes differ: Vashti’s gaze foreshadows her fall from favor while the frank gaze of the powerless girl (even her beauty is no match for an unextended scepter) foreshadows her strength of spirit. The adorned Esther has put down the mirror, rejecting the offer of more jewels. Instead, just prior to being veiled and taken to Xerxes, she looks directly at the viewer. This gaze, though solemn, reveals no fear in the innocent young girl (notice the lilies on the wall relief behind her) who by the next day will be either a mere concubine or the queen. The mythical griffins embroidered on the hem of her gown were figures used to guard the gold of the Persians and are another indication both of the marketplace contest she is part of and her inability to escape. Yet Esther has an inner strength that enables her to risk death at the hands of the king—in order to invite him to dinner!
Though Vashti is gone by the end of the first chapter of Esther, she begins the rising action of the story whose crisis is faced by her youthful successor. Without the brave action of Vashti, Esther would not have been in place to rescue her people. And without the brave action—and clever thinking—of Queen Esther, the Israelites would have lost their stand against the “divine” power (note the stylized sun on the end of the mirror handle and on Vashti’s belt) of the pagan Persians at the hands of Haman. If “the king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord” (Proverbs 21:1), it is certain the hearts of queens are as well. Edwin Long’s works draw attention to both the historical tensions in the Persian royal court and the metanarrative of the Israelites’ position as God’s chosen people.
Dr. Karen Rowe, M&G Board Member
Published in 2019
The Visitation
Johann Friedrich Overbeck
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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.
The Resurrection
Gilt silver
Vasiliy Fedotovich Il’in (active 1837–57), silver maker
D. Tverskoy (active 1834–50), assay master
St. Petersburg, 1849
For nearly 70 years, the Museum & Gallery has shared with communities at home and abroad its primary focus: a collection of European Old Master paintings ranging from the 14th–19th centuries. Yet, M&G is more than paintings. The Collection includes furniture, decorative arts, textiles, and objects of art as well as Middle-Eastern antiquities with examples from the reputed British Egyptologist, Sir Flinders Petrie. Of special note and often overlooked, however, is the Russian collection, including icons from the 14th through early 20th centuries.
Unlike a Renaissance or Baroque painting of Western Europe idealizing the figures and blending realism and symbolism into the image, icons present an altogether different and somewhat mysterious approach to the same religious subjects. Frequently referred to as “otherworldly,” these meticulously executed images are rich in symbolism and create an awe and respect for the spiritual meaning of the depicted events and characters.
In this example, the icon’s composition and naturalistic qualities reflect a Western treatment of the Resurrection, rather than the painted Orthodox versions. On its face is the inscription, Voskreseniye Christovo, meaning The Resurrection of Christ. And, on the front hanger is inscribed: Christos Voskryes or Christ is Risen.
For its size of a mere 7 7/8″ x 5 5/16″, this beautiful gilt silver oval icon achieves unusual spatial depth. In the foreground is the resurrected Christ carrying the triumphal banner and two angels—one rolling the stone away from the tomb and the other holding the burial cloths. In the middle ground are the three Marys carrying the spices to the tomb on that first day of the week; and in the distance, St. Vladimir’s cross appearing in the rays of the morning sun next to the city of Jerusalem.
In addition to the fine craftsmanship and sophisticated handling of the silver, the icon bears a historically significant inscription engraved on its reverse: To the Sovereign Emperor and Autocrat of all Russians, Nikolai Pavlovitch and the Sovereign Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, on the day of the Resurrection of Christ, April 3rd, 1849. This humble offering from the peasant of Count Sheremetiev, Vasiliy Fedotov Il’in, made by his own hand.
The icon’s inscription reveals that it was a gift to Tsar Nicholas I created by a serf-artist employed by the richest Russian landowner in the 19th century, Count Dmitri Sheremetev. Historical documents reveal that the count was attending a conference for Russian nobility in April 1849, and it was on this occasion that he presented the icon to the Romanov tsar for Easter.
At the bottom there is a hallmark of crossed anchors and a scepter, which means it was made in St. Petersburg. The number 84 denotes the Russian standard content of silver. There is also a documented hallmark for the maker: ФИ, transliterated as FI for the skillful silversmith Fedot Il’yin (active 1837–1857). He began as a serf for Sheremetev, but ultimately earned his freedom and owned his own workshop. He was a master craftsman for creating church accessories and the icon oklads and lampadas.
Historically, the Sheremetev family is recognized for its generous philanthropy, particularly for its contribution and promotion of art and culture in Russia by developing artists and founding and supporting theatres, orchestras, choirs, concert halls. Dmitri, the patron of this icon, was the son of Count Nicholas Sheremetev who married his leading serf-actress Praskovia Ivanova Kovaleva, (her stage name was Zhemchugova). Dmitri’s mother died of tuberculosis 3 weeks after giving birth. Count Nicholas Sheremetev began a charitable institution—a shelter or hospital for the sick and homeless—in memory of his late wife.
As heir to his father’s fortune, he inherited some 180,000 serfs and 15,000 square miles of land. Dmitri served in the military and later married Anna Sergeyevna Sheremeteva (1810-1849), lady-in-waiting to the Empress Alexandra Feodorovna. Years following her death, he married again to Alexandra Melnikova Fosdick (1825-1874). He devoted himself to philanthropic work like his father—investing in hospitals, churches, orphanages, and education.
Erin R. Jones, Executive Director
Published in 2019
