Friday, September 19, 2014

Knight With Hand on his Chest, El Greco, 1580

Watch my video on this painting here

       This image was painted by El Greco (Doménikos Theotokópoulos) around 1580, and it now hangs majestically in the Prado Museum in Madrid. This museum also contains many works by Velázquez, Goya, Rubens, and Dürer. El Greco, an artist who was born in Crete and was later trained in Venice, eventually settled down and founded a studio in Toledo, Spain. This city is rich with history, particularly religious and civil history (i.e. the wealthy middle class). This image was painted when El Greco was around 40 years old; he also painted “The Burial of Count Orgaz” (a scene depicting the ethereal funeral of a prominent Toledo citizen) in this decade as well. El Greco, although initially trained as an icon painter, is considered a mannerist. His bodies are elongated and ghostly looking, his backgrounds are not completely “of this world,” and his colors are usually dark and stormy. This particular color scheme is evident in “Knight With Hand on his Chest.” For example, the whole painting is just one variation of gray/black. The only light comes from the barely illuminated visage and ruff of the solemn knight. This coloring is akin to Tintoretto, a Venetian painter that is most famous for his smoky/vibrant colors (i.e. “The Last Supper”). 
       However, who exactly is this so-called “knight?” Although the specific identity is not known, the viewer can be sure that he is taking an oath or otherwise professing his loyalty to his profession. He is a knight because we can see his ornate sword and fine gold (and probably expensive) chain on his ebony tunic. The role of a knight during the Renaissance was different than the stereotypical medieval knight that fought on horseback, used a sword to chop off hands, and defended Christianity to the hilt (i.e. the Crusades). The Renaissance knight didn’t actually fight in combat very often; the position was more ceremonial and reserved for the wealthier classes that emerged during the Renaissance. It is because of this emerging class that smaller individual works such as this one (it is only 32 inches by 25 inches) were able to be commissioned for artists like El Greco. I also think it is noteworthy that this subject is looking out directly at the viewer. He confronts us emotionlessly, as if demonstrating his seriousness. The face depicted here almost resembles that of El Greco’s in “The Burial of Count Orgaz”; could this be a self portrait? According to the Web Gallery of Art, this work was supposed to be a portrait of Juan da Silva, a mayor of Toledo. However, El Greco supposedly changed his mind and painted a knight instead. Unusually, this work does not depict a heavenly scene (which he tended to do). To conclude, El Greco has influenced a plethora of later artists including Picasso, Manet, Cézanne, and Delacroix.

Source
http://prezi.com/szuzpcumgd3p/knighthood-in-the-renaissance-by-luis-vazquez-brandon-lee/

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Picture and Word of the Day 9/17/14

Picture of the Day 9/17/14
State Government Building, Puebla, Mexico
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puebla,_Puebla
Word of the Day 9/17/14

Word: Sous-titre

Language: French 

Meaning: Subtitle 

Monday, September 15, 2014

I Tend to Travel Treacherous Roads

       Throughout my many travels, I have encountered treacherous and shady roads. I would like to share a few of them with you, although there isn’t much I can write about each specific road (except that it was perilously dangerous and I’m surprised my parents drove on it with young, frenetic children in the backseat)!
The steepness of Engelberg
       The first road that I can remember vividly is the road up the mountainside to Engelberg, Switzerland. This sleepy town of under 4,000 permanent residents is in the center of Switzerland; it is known for being a plush town with abundant ski resorts for the wealthy. To me, it was a typical European fairy-tale oasis tucked into the mountainside littered with small flowers and green grass (I expected Maria from the Sound of Music to come skipping out at any time). However, when my family and I were driving up the road to get there, it was gray outside and downright alarming. We were just one mistaken turn away from plummeting thousands of feet down the side of a mountain (the guardrails were very scant). I visited Switzerland in July of 2007 (I was 10 years old) because we have family friends that actually live on a mountain in Engelberg. During this trip, my family and I were lucky enough to travel to England, Germany, France, and Austria as well. Here is an excerpt from a journal entry my 10 year old self wrote while driving in Switzerland: “We are so high up that we are in the clouds. Going up the roads is scary! We’ve only seen five living people so far….we had to pay 30 euros to come here!”
Lugano, Switzerland

       The second memorable (I mean downright terrifying) road I have traveled on was the miniscule one leading to Lake Como, a lakeside town on the border between Italy and Switzerland. My father drives on all trips in Europe because he lived in England for around twenty years and is accustomed to small, narrow roads. This one was particularly inconvenient because it was plainly meant for one car (or in older days, for horse and buggies). I felt like I was transported to a pre-WWI Italy in which all roads are cobblestoned and claustrophobic because the  buildings are literally right on the road. There is no separation between edifice and street, not even a measly sidewalk. Although most of the Italians zooming by us were riding laughable yet efficient scooters, our rental car was rather large (we had four people plus luggage for two weeks). To make matters worse, many tour buses were barreling their way down to Lake Como and taking up the whole road for themselves. To this day, I am still surprised that we did not crash or at least scratch the gray car. The kicker is that the roads were so slim and treacherous that we decided to turn back around towards Italy. Braving the death-trap thoroughfares once more, the four of us left Lake Como and drove the sketchy stick shift to another town in Switzerland: Lugano. This beautiful town, equipped with an azure lake and McDonalds, was picturesque and tucked away into the mountains as well. Because I am American, I stopped by McDonalds to consume a Big Mac, but unfortunately, it was around $18 (Switzerland is extremely expensive. I looked online and many houses were around $4 million). I was in this part of Switzerland in 2011; on this trip, I traveled to Italy, the Vatican, and England as well.


Third, the third risky road that I have traveled on was from Flagstaff, Arizona to steamy Las Vegas. This path literally cut through the scrubby forest, some of which was actually burning because of wildfires. The road we took was closed the day before because of brush fires, making the experience all the more thrilling and exciting. Again, my father was driving and feeling like the Indian version of Mario Andretti. To our relief, there were vestiges of a guard rail, although it was only present when we were turning a sharp bend or on the side of a canyon. Many times, I looked through the window of the Toyota Camry and could see low-lying valleys with charred tree stumps and new undergrowth swaying the wind (if you didn’t know, Sedona and the Grand Canyon can be very windy at times). Our car was usually the only one on the road, but occasionally we would pass RV camps with families fishing in the ribbon stream and overlooking “scenic” viewpoints (hopefully they didn’t encounter any bears or crown fires). I visited this area in June of 2014, and explored the whole Arizona/Nevada border.

French Riviera
       Finally, the most stunning and potentially dangerous road that my tiny rental car has ever driven on was the dirt path hugging the French Riviera and the coast of Spain. I traversed this serpentine road in July of 2013 with my parents and sister; this vacation, we explored Spain, London, and a tiny strip of the beautiful Cote d'Azur (French Riviera). We were originally planning on driving to Andorra, a miniature country with extremely wealthy inhabitants situated on the border between Spain and France. However, we only had time to drive up and down the French coast because our apartment in Barcelona was waiting for us. This coast was absolutely breathtaking because (1) we were looking at the bluest waters of the Mediterranean Sea on one side, and (2) we drunk in the view of perfect vineyards loaded bruised-purple grapes on the other side. I have never seen anything like it before (except maybe the vineyards in Germany), and I will certainly not forget the little road-side bakeries with succulent chocolate croissants and small wineries that offered wine made ten feet away. The road that unfurled up the coast and back down was dodgy because it was extremely narrow and twisting. On one side, overhanging cliffs dotted with precarious rocks threatened to rain down on the car, and on the other side, the tan cliffs plummeted down to the Mediterranean Sea with razor sharp rocks on the shoreline. Although from a safety perspective it was a lose-lose situation, from a travel and wanderlust perspective, it was pure bliss.

       I like to think that I have traveled the most thrilling and exotic of roads, but in reality, most of Europe has tiny, cramped ones that were built during the 18th and 19th centuries. These relics of time past weren’t made for loud, automatic SUV’s or completely irrational four wheelers. These cobblestoned gems were made for walking, horses, and wagons. I love small and treacherous roads because they are a throwback in time and a welcome change from the wide, seven lane highways in America with cars taller than houses. They are enchanting and wonderful, even though they scream DANGER.

Swiss Highways