I admired Marc Chagall’s works at the Albertina venue in Vienna, Austria during late October of 2024. I have always loved going to exhibitions in the Albertina. I recalled a comprehensive show of works by Durer at that venue some years ago. A long-time fan of Chagall, I loved his use of bright colors and atmosphere of playfulness in his paintings that had a dreamy, fantasy-filled quality. I was enamored with his mastery of color to express various emotions and to create new worlds. I loved his renditions of Paris, the Eiffel Tower often dominating his creations.
Before this show I hadn’t realized how strongly his Jewish background had influenced his art. Chagall’s paintings were punctuated with Jewish folklore and motifs. I saw a painting of a synagogue and portraits of rabbis, for instance. Many paintings boasted biblical themes. I also hadn’t realized how often he had rendered his hometown, both sadness and joy intermingled in the memories. His yearning to return to his hometown was extremely visible in his art.
The symbolic nature of his artistic creations also enamored me as I noted the many violinists, animals, half-human creatures, wooden houses, circus characters, roosters and floating married couples as well as beautiful floral arrangements. Because I had visited an exhibition in Prague’s Wallenstein Riding Stables about the interwar years of the École de Paris movement, I knew he had been associated with that era during his Paris sojourn.
The exhibition allowed me to become better acquainted with the artist’s life. Marc Chagall (1887-1985)was born as Moishe Shagal on July 6, 1885 into a Hasidic Jewish family in Vitebsk, located in today’s Belarus. During the late 19th century the town was situated in the Russian Empire. His impressive, varied resume includes paintings, drawings, book illustrations, ceramics, prints, tapestries, stained glass and stage sets, but this vast exhibition focused solely on his paintings.
While he spent World War I in his hometown, he went to Paris before the war broke out, moving there in 1910 when he was 23 years old. In France he made friends with Guillaume Apollinaire, Ferdinand Léger and others creating avant-garde works. He often depicted Jewish themes and also evoked Paris in many paintings. During World War I, back in Vitebsk, he married Bella and held exhibitions in Russia as the war made it impossible for him to leave the empire. He founded an arts college in his hometown, too. However, he was in dire financial straits during the Russian Civil War. After World War I, much of his work was Moscow-based.
Following the Bolshevik Revolution, he moved to Paris for the second time, but fled during World War II after the Germans took control of France. The Nazis in occupied France took away Chagall’s French citizenship, and he and his wife were arrested. However, with the help of others, he and his wife found a way to escape to the USA. He felt like an outsider and didn’t speak English.
While he was in New York City, tragedy struck his hometown of Vitebsk, which was destroyed by the Nazis. Things would get even worse. Bela passed in1944 because it was not possible to get her any penicillin. It was no surprise then that Chagall’s late spouse appeared in many of his paintings. In 1948, though, he returned to Paris, and there his paintings focused on Jewish themes and his yearning for the existence of his hometown. Also, he would marry two more times.
He devoted much time to other fields as well. Some of his accomplishments included creating stained glass decoration in the cathedral in Reims and at the Art Institute in Chicago. He also made stained glass adornment for places in Switzerland and Israel. He became even better known for his ceiling painting of the Paris Opera. I remembered gazing in awe at this ceiling several decades ago. It was an experience I will never forget, even though I saw it so long ago. He also made sculpture and ceramics as well as tapestries.
Chagall died at the age of 97 on March 28, 1985 at the age of 97. He is buried with his third wife in a cemetery in Saint Paul-de-Vence, located in the Provence region.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Caricature of Laocoon, Niccolo Boldrini, 1540-45, woodcut.
In the exhibition “From Michelangelo to Callot: The Art of Mannerist Printmaking,” held at Prague’s Wallenstein Riding Stables, I studied more than 200 works of 16th and 17th century graphic art, drawings, paintings, jewelry, etchings, lithographs, ceramics and other artistic crafts that hailed from the Netherlands, Germany, France and the Czech lands. The Louvre lent Prague’s National Gallery many works. Some pieces in the collections were being displayed to the public for the first time. A superb small drawing by Michelangelo drew crowds, and art by Hendrick Goltzius, Paul Bril, Aegidius Sadeler and Niccolo Boldrini stood out to me.
The Great Hercules, Hendrick Goltzius, 1589, engraving.
While Mannerism became a major trend during the 16th century in Italy, Northern Mannerism lasted into the 17th century. Because European artists north of the Alps did not have as many opportunities to travel to Italy in order to familiarize themselves with Mannerism, they often studied the style through prints and books. The decoration at the Chateau of Fontainebleau impressed many artists utilizing this style, and France was the center of the Mannerist movement. The Northern Mannerists also looked to da Vinci, Raphael, Vasari and Michelangelo for inspiration.
The Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence, Cornells Cort, 1571.
The Northern Mannerist style was very visible in Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II’s collection in Prague, then the capital city. Influenced by prints, Mannerism appeared in Prague during 1576. An avid art collector, Emperor Rudolf II had hired the Flemish painter Bartholomeus Spranger and German artist Hans von Aachen to work for him, and they produced some works in Northern Mannerist style. Both Spranger and von Aachen were known for their Mannerist mythological scenes while von Aachen also concentrated on portraits of the emperor. Rudolf II’s father, Emperor Maximillian II, had chosen Giuseppe Arcimboldo as one of his painters, and Arcimboldo’s fantasy-filled still lifes and portraits feature Mannerist traits. This style also suited Rudolf II when he took over for his father.
The Combat of the Monkey and the Rat, Christoph Jamnitzer.
Mannerist art often included mythological scenes, the grotesque and fantasy. Harmony, symmetry and rationality were notably absent. While Mannerists showed a great interest in anatomy, the figures were often elongated, and many forms had a sculptural quality. Clothing was elaborate. Attention to detail prevailed. Complex and unstable poses as well as dramatic lighting also characterized the Mannerist style. Artists of this era liked to employ symbols and utilize hidden meanings in their works. Black backgrounds were common. A distorted perspective was employed. Mannerism did not often feature religious themes. After Mannerism came the Baroque style, which focused heavily on religious art.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo, 1536-1541.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo.
A copy of a section of “The Last Judgment” as seen in the Sistine Chapel was on display at this exhibition, as this masterpiece greatly influenced Mannerist art. This fresco at The Vatican portrayed more than 300 figures as the dead made their way to idyllic Heaven or horrific Hell. Mythological figures and devils appeared along with a beardless Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary and saints. I noticed the looks of horror on descending figures. Details in superb portrayals of human anatomy greatly impressed me.
Head of a 12-Year Old Christ, Albrecht Durer, 16th century.
For me, German Albrecht Durer’s 16th century “Head of the 12-year old Christ” was one of the highlights in the exhibition. Durer was a master of High Renaissance printmaking, especially of woodcuts and engravings. He inspired Raphael and Titian. I realized how Durer’s portrayal of human anatomy had impressed Mannerists. While most works displayed did not focus on religion, the Mannerist engraving “The Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence” from 1571 also caught my attention. Cornells Cort created it in the style of Titian.
Vladislav Hall, Aegidius Sadeler, 1607.
Some prints showed off specific architectural structures, such as Aegidius Sadeler’s Vladislav Hall from 1607. A fan of Czech architectural history, I was especially engrossed in this rendition of the late 15th century and early 16th century section of Prague Castle built by Benedikt Reid. I loved its complex vaulting system. I noticed Late Gothic and Renaissance elements of the building. This was one of my favorite buildings in Prague due to its exquisite vaulting and its past use for historical events, such as coronations and knights’ tournaments.
Wooden Bridge from Series Eight Bohemian Landscapes, Aegidius Sadeler, 1605, engraving.
Mountain Landscape, Paul Bril.
Another work by Sadeler, created in the style of Pieter Stevens, was the landscape “Wooden Bridge from Series Eight Bohemian Landscapes.” The 1605 engraving of the idyllic, romantic bridge reminded me of picturesque Vermont, where I had lived for a while. I was also enamored with “Mountain Landscape” by Flemish painter and printmaker Paul Bril. Inspired by my favorite artist Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Bril authored works in the Vatican and Italy. I appreciated the power and beauty of nature as I peered at these two tranquil landscapes.
Beached Sperm Whale near Berkhey, Hendrick Goltzius, 1598.
A prominent name in the exhibition, Henrick Goltzius was a stellar printmaker whose works were influenced by drawings he acquired from Prague. My favorite of his contributions was “Beached Sperm Whale near Berkhey” from 1598. People gathered around the gigantic, deceased animal. This artwork was inspired by a real event as a 58-foot long whale had washed up on that shore.
The Four Disgracers, Hendrick Goltzius, 1588, engraving.
The Four Disgracers, Henrick Goltzius, 1588, engraving.
Goltzius also took on mythological themes, such as his rendition of “The Four Disgracers (Tantalus, Icarus, Phaethon and Ixion).” This engraving appeared to have a three-dimensional quality. The illusion of three-dimensional features, mastered by engravers in the Netherlands during the late 16th century, was often featured in Northern Mannerist art. Goltzius was the author of “The Great Hercules,” an engraving from 1589. The detailed anatomy, though not correct, interested me. Other works with mythological themes that caught my attention were “Diana and Actaeon” by Joseph Heintz the Elder from 1597 to 1598 and Niccolo Boldrini’s “Caricature of Laocoon,” a woodcut from 1540 to 1545.
The Pairs of Grotesque Heads, Philippe Soye, 1550-65.
The grotesque played a significant role in Northern Mannerist creations. Philippe Soye rendered “The Pairs of Grotesque Heads” after a masterpiece by da Vinci. Soye’s portrayal hailed from 1550 to 1565. Christoph Jamnitzer also stressed grotesque features in his “The Combat of the Monkey and the Rat.” I was also impressed with the masked figures in “Venetian Carnival,” a 1595 engraving by Pieter de Jode the Elder. Seeing the grotesque made me think of gargoyles on cathedrals, such as Milan’s Duomo or Saint Vitus’ Cathedral in Prague.
Fantastic Sea Creatures, Nicolaes de Bruyn, 1594, engraving.
Prints with scenes immersed in the fantasy world made numerous appearances. At the end of the 16th century, Nicolaes de Bruyn became known for his portrayal of animals and fictional sea creatures. His “Fantastic Sea Creatures,” depicted here from a series, was an engraving that made up part of a book about fish. Engravers often worked with fantasy themes in this style.
Diana and Actaeon, Joseph Heintz the Elder, 1597-98.
A section of the exhibition was devoted to Northern Mannerist decoration of objects such as vases, plates, mirrors and jewelry. Adornment was often floral or geometric, and I noted similarities to illuminated manuscripts. Artists of this sort of ornamentation were inspired by the grotesque, mythological figures and Roman wall paintings, for instance. I saw examples of mythological themes and the grotesque in the decoration of a majolica plate from the second half of the 16th century. A 16th century black enamel mirror exuded elegance with Mannerist designs.
Venetian Carnival, Pieter de Jode the Elder, 1596, engraving.
The exhibition was comprehensive, divided into clear sections. I was drawn most to the landscapes as I was reminded of the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder. I also thought of Paul Bril’s creations in Milan’s Ambrosiana Picture Gallery. It was intriguing that the scenes on many prints showed the main figures in the background and the lesser important ones in the foreground. I liked the decorative patterns that were influenced by illuminated manuscripts. I spent my fortieth birthday gazing at the Sistine Chapel and mulled over the experience of seeing those writhing, terrified souls guided by devils and the blessed blissfully ascending into Paradise. I also thought of the awe-inspiring experience of walking into Vladislav Hall because I loved Late Gothic vaulting. That print captured the daunting atmosphere perfectly. Seeing a masterpiece by Durer brought me back to an exhibition of his works at the Albertina in Vienna some years ago. I could hardly catch my breath because I had been so impressed. I had learned a lot about Mannerism from this exhibition and had discovered works that I would never forget.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
I loved visiting Sorrento during the summer of 2023, and the highlight of my time there was seeing the furniture, paintings, drawings and artifacts at the Museum of Inlaid Wood, known in Italian as Museobottega della Tarsialignea or MUTA. The displays pictorially narrate the history of 19th century intarsia (inlaid wood), the objects all made by local artists who were masters at their trade. The details of the works amazed me.
I saw furniture decorated with an inlaid wood rendition of a black-and-white fluffy dog reclining in an adorable pose. Many boxes of various small sizes were decorated with intarsia. I loved the music stand adorned with a scene showing figures dancing and playing instruments on a black background with floral trim. A table depicted a scene of seated women in 19th century attire, positioned next to a columned structure that looked like it belonged in antiquity. The geometric shapes on a intarsia-decorated bench captivated me. I loved another piece of furniture that showed off a scene of three small boats in a tranquil sea. On the shore, a very steep hill was dotted with archways and structures made of geometric shapes.
Another section described life in Sorrento during the 19th century. Landscape paintings, portraits, costumes and other objects were the focus. I was especially interested in the tranquil landscapes with portrayals of the soothing sea and craggy terrain. The economy of that era is also featured in this part of the exhibition. I read the impressions of famous artists who had visited Sorrento during that era. I got to know more about the Old Town part of the city, where the museum is located, during the 19th century through these artworks. Placing the objects made with inlaid wood in historical context was one of the many major pluses of this museum. One piece of furniture that I admired in this section was a bed adorned with inlaid wood ornamentation. The headboard was exquisite.
I also saw how such beautiful objects are made as various tools and materials utilized in this trade were on display. The technique of creating works with inlaid wood was well explained. Understanding the process made me even more appreciative of the art itself because it was so painstakingly difficult to create such beauty.
In the basement there was an intriguing collection of contemporary works with intarsia. They spoke to life during the present rather than the past by using this old technique. I saw an amazing room inlaid with intarsia, too. Contemporary-designed boxes were on display, too, showing off abstract features and brightly colored designs. An inlaid cupola was another gem. A creative sideboard consisted of an upside-down black triangle with white adornment. Frames decorated with inlaid wood and modern-looking crosses also made appearances.
I liked the sculpture of a large circular face on a dark blue and light wood background. The grey at the top of the face seemed to symbolize a small amount of hair. I saw gray circles around light wood-colored eyes that featured gray pupils. The mouth was partially red and partially gray. The lips seemed to be pursed in a blank or unreadable expression. I thought of the mechanization and impersonalization of society when I saw the gray pupils and gray circles around the eyes. There were so many ways to interpret this sculpture. It fascinated me.
Indeed, all of the works at this museum fascinated me. I was thrilled to discover a unique museum in a picturesque city punctuated by seascapes, an amazing cathedral, beautiful churches and romantic streets lined with shops and cafes. This experience took place during my first day visiting the Amalfi Coast, and my trip was off to a remarkable start.
Tracy A. Burns is a proofreader, writer and editor in Prague.
Frescoes decorated the 18th century building housing the collections.
Tracy's Travels 