Piero & Toulouse-Lautrec

"Virgin and Child Enthroned with Four Angels" Piero della Francesca (ca. 1460-70)

A recent visit to the Frick Collection found two very different but engaging special exhibits. In the Oval room was "Piero della Francesca in America," the first exhibit in the US devoted to the man who was a founder of the Italian Renaissance. Comprised of six panels from an altarpiece and the painting "Virgin and Child Enthroned with Four Angels," it might sound like a small sampling for an exhibit but the works are stunning.

In 1454, Piero received a commission for an altarpiece for the church of Sant'Agostino in the artist's hometown of Sansepolcro. Finished in 1470, it was dissembled by 1555 and centuries would pass before scholars would locate and identify eight surviving panels. A helpful "hypothetical reconstruction" of the altarpiece is included in the exhibit, showing what is believed to be the placement of each of the known panels including the ones of St. Michael and St. Nicholas, which did not travel to New York. 

"Saint Apollonia" Piero della Francesca (1454-69)

Close examination of the works show clues to their designated spots: certain areas like a hand or shoulder appear illuminated, most likely done with thoughts of where the light in the church would fall. They are also filled with exquisite details like the bishop’s cope worn by St. Augustine covered with perfect miniature scenes (one wonders how much of this would have been seen by churchgoers) and my favourite, Saint Apollonia holding a tooth with a pair of pliers (her teeth were reportedly smashed by her tormentors).

The large "Virgin and Child Enthroned with Four Angels" is a stand-in for the original central panel, now lost. I've seen more than my fair share of Madonna and Child paintings (I lived in Italy) and will admit to often giving them a cursory glance. Yet this one is especially striking, with a wonderful use of colour from the red gown of one of the angels to the deep blue of Mary's gown to the pinks, greens, and light blues of the angel wings. Combined with the Roman courtyard setting and the intricate carvings it’s a piece that’s hard to look away from.

"The Englishman at the Moulin Rouge" Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1892)

Downstairs was an exhibit of a different kind. "The Impressionist Line from Degas to Toulouse-Lautrec: Drawings and Prints from the Clark" is filled with some interesting works—Degas' detailed study of a dead fox, Gauguin's zincographs on yellow paper, a lithograph of Cezanne's "The Bathers." Yet of the 58 works on display, what really caught my eye was the collection of Toulouse-Lautrec lithographs and chalk drawings in a small upstairs room.

                         

 "The Seated Clowness (Miss Cha-U-Kao), from Elles" Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1896)

The man whose work helped to define the fin-de-siècle captured the artists, dancers, actresses, and prostitutes of Bohemian Paris going about their everyday lives. In this exhibit we see them dancing, attending a performance, letting their hair down, waking in bed. Some images imply the seediness of their world. “The Englishman at the Moulin Rouge” leaves no doubt as to what the man is proposing. While others like "The Seated Clowness (Miss Cha-U-Kao), from Elles," illustrates a candid, offstage moment and makes clear the fondness the artist has for the model, a favourite of his. All of the pieces reinforce Toulouse-Lautrec's importance as an artist and were by far the stars of the exhibit.

Magnolia tree in bloom at the Frick. Photo: Michele

Outside, springtime was in full bloom on the Frick's grounds. All in all, a perfect day at the museum.

"Piero della Francesca" is at the Frick through May 19, 2013 and "The Impressionist Line" through June 16, 2013. For more information, visit here.

Lady in Blue

"Comtesse d'Hausonville" Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres (1845)

One of my favourite things to do on a rainy afternoon is to stroll around a museum. And one of the best places to do this is at the Frick Collection. Housed in the beautiful Fifth Avenue mansion of industrialist Henry Clay Frick, the collection is small enough so as to not overwhelm but impressive enough to make you want to return again and again. I love the garden court with its sunken pool and skylight, the delightful Boucher room, and the wonderful “Mistress and Maid” by Vemeer. But my favourite thing at the Frick is the portrait of a woman in blue—“Comtesse d’Haussonville” by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres.

Louise de Broglie, the Comtesse d’Haussonville (1818-1882), was the granddaughter of the great salon hostess and writer Madame de Staël and great-granddaughter of Louis XVI's finance minister. The wife of a diplomat, she was an author and wrote biographies on Lord Byron and the Irish patriot Robert Emmet. It was in Rome that she first met Ingres who would begin work on her portrait in Paris in 1842 and finish it three years later.

One of her mother’s friends called her “the girl with eyes like smoldering embers” and indeed there is something mesmerizing about the Comtesse’s gaze. Although she was in her early 20s, there is a wiseness in her eyes. It also makes you wonder, what was she thinking about? Was she contemplating Ingres? Was she dreaming up a story to write? Or could she have simply been bored? Her direct gaze combined with the plump curve of her arms against the blue silk folds of her gown and the pop of a red ribbon in her hair, create a striking portrait that stays with one long after you've left the museum. I always save the portrait for last when I visit so later when I walk down Fifth Avenue and look at the trees in the park, I can think about the Comtesse and imagine her moving around a room, gown dragging lightly across the floor while her dark eyes dart around, taking in her surroundings.

The Frick Collection is always a nice place to visit but if you go on Sunday mornings 11-1 the admission is pay what you wish.

Red Scarf

Walking down Fifth Avenue the other weekend, I came upon the Richard Morris Hunt Memorial that is across the street from the Frick Collection. Wrapped around Hunt's neck was a red scarf, perhaps placed there by an anonymous fan to ward off the cold weather that we seem unable to shake.

Hunt was an important 19th century architect who helped shape the look of New York City, including the creation of the Great Hall at the Met. He also designed the Breakers in Newport, RI, my favourite of the Newport mansions. I like to think he'd appreciate this addition to his memorial—a bit of colour to make the design pop.

Photo by Michele.