Advent 12

Tintoretto was by all accounts something of an opereator in Venice - undercutting other artists to obtain important commissions and generally making himself unpopular with his peers. He claimed to have been apprenticed to Titian but that master seems to have denied the connection. Whatever, Tintoretto could paint. In this Last Supper he defies classical perspective and looks upon the scene on the diagonal, giving prominence to servient underlings instead of Christ and the apostles. He was playing the same manner of tricks that Orson Welles would bring to bear in cinema four and a half centuries later.

Advent 11

After two offerings from sculptor/artists which play tricks with form, today's picture is straight out of the top drawer of classicism - indeed some might argue that Titian has the top drawer to himself.

Where Hepworth and, to an even greater degree, Boccione, respond to light and structure, Titian lets his full representational talent loose on a biblical theme, The Assumption of the Virgin (1516-18). The colours are stunning and the technique brilliant. As I have assembled this list, I have had to confront my own prejudices and I have been struck by my taste for the relatively modern. This sort of devotional art is, though, quite thrilling.

Tomorrow another Venetian. 

Advent 10

Umberto Boccioni was, like Barbara Hepworth (see Advent 9), both painter and sculptor. He was also one of the founders of the Italian Futurist movement. Out of Head+Light+Surroundings (which at first glance seems an abstract blur of colours) a human face and other represenatations emerge. The whole effect of this 1912 picture is provocative and satisfying, demanding some effort of attention from the viewer.  

Twelve Films At Christmas - 3 & 4

An Inspector Calls is a 1954 screen adaptation of J.B. Priestley's 1945 stage play. I suppose I should declare an interest - I played Arthur Birling on the stage. A fascinating role - an industrialist caught up in his own importance and blind to the terrors about to be unleashed on the world (the play is set in 1912). The play is masterful and, Midsummer Night's Dream aside, the best in which I appeared in my limited am-dram career.  

The play is designedly claustrophobic - befitting the enclosed and comfortable world of the Birling family. A frequent problem with movie adaptations is that they feel duty-bound to open up the world of the play. An Inspector Calls is no exception to this problem. The flash-back technique takes the place of the play's taut, almost confessional, exposition of the flaws of the assembled characters. As the inspector (for no reason that is discernible to me, renamed Poole in place of the play's Goole) Alastair Sim is excellent. This is a perfectly decent movie but if the chance presents itself you should see the play. 61/100. 

When We Were Kings is a curiosity. It is a time capsule of a film. It assembles documentary footage surrounding the 1974 Foreman v Ali heavyweight title fight in Zaire. The film itself had originally been projected as a record of the 'Black Woodstock' concert held at the same time as the fight (the fight was delayed due to an injury to Foreman). It ran into problems of copyright and the film never saw the light of day until 1997. The stunning result of the fight is correctly part of the lore of the twentieth century. Ali and (to a necessarily smaller degree) Foreman are titanic figures. The film gives us insight into the articulate warrior Ali. We see the emergence of the malign influence of promoter Don King. An important record of a moment in history. 70/100. 

Advent 9

The Hepworth Sculpture Garden in St. Ives is small and a charming space in which to take in the smooth atmospheres induced by Barbara Hepworth's sculpture. Hepworth's pictures are much less well known but they capture the same sense of civilised structure. This is Winter Solstice (1971), a print of which adorns our bedroon wall. Less is more.

Advent 8

 

Henri Rousseau was an untrained amateur artist. His arresting paintings have the quality of perfect cartoon. Tiger in a Tropical Storm (Surprised) (1891) is another picture that I discovered in the National Gallery and returned to time and again when I might have been  better employed in the college library. Oh well, it all turned out alright in the end.

Advent 7

I don't promise not to return to the genre but for now I will leave it at a trio of pop art pieces. My choices may not be other than obvious but cliches are cliches for reason. So, yes you guessed it, we have to have some Andy Warhol. Nothing can be better than to consider one icon's representation of another - Liz (1964).