Understanding Painting: From Giotto to Warhol

by Patrick de Rynck, Jon Thompson

This is the guide to Western art that every art lover has always wanted. Great paintings, filled with complex themes and symbols, can be intimidating. Here, Patrick De Rynck and Jon Thompson explore more than 300 famous works spanning the Middle Ages to the late 20th century, unlocking each work’s meaning. Today's art lovers lack the intimate knowledge of Greek and Roman mythology, folklore, and Christian theology that was so well-known to medieval and Renaissance artists and their public. Likewise, modern and contemporary art can baffle even sophisticated viewers. With brief yet illuminating explanations and more than 1,000 color reproductions—including many close-up details—of works by artists from Giotto, Botticelli, El Greco, Rubens, and Vermeer to Bonnard, Degas, Whistler, Van Gogh, Picasso, Hopper, Warhol, and Basquiat, this book provides the means to interpret and better enjoy these and many other works of art.

Genres: Art

400 pages, Hardcover

Published May 29, 2018

Reviews

[Steven T. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've toured the National Art Gallery in DC at least a dozen times over the years. It has two campuses or buildings, the East building, which features modern art, and the West building, which holds older, more traditional art. Much of the modern art never impressed me--some I've never understood how it was even considered art.

Over the years I have read various works of art history to try and understand the significance and meaning of much modern art. This was, partially, my aim in reading this book. To that end, it is fairly well suited. It is just a collection of short bios and a picture or two by famous artists explaining their work.

The bulk of the book is "Old Masters", which serves as an excellent contrast and point of comparison with "modern art" paintings. The book reaffirmed the conclusion I came to years ago when I took Art Appreciation as an undergraduate: a lot of modern art is just the Emperor's New Clothes. You would hardly know it's art unless someone told you it was and even after telling you it is (and lengthy, convoluted arguments to that effect) it is hard to believe. In this category I would put: Malevich's "Black Square", Mondriaan's "Composition C", Pollock's "Enchanted Forest", Rothko's "Four Darks in Red", and many others. These are all works, to me, that only a professional art critics would recognize as "art". Many, if they were in an alley next to a trash dumpster, e.g. Pollock's "Enchanted Forest" and Malevich's "Black Square", would be indistinguishable from trash.

There is certainly some modern art I do like. In fact, my two favorite artists, Edvard Munch and Vincent Van Gogh, are both modern. Additionally, I like most of the expressionists, neo-expressionist, and surrealists. Much of the explanations for the brilliance of modern art, especially that which exhibits no obvious skill, reminds me of a lot of literary criticism I've read. I had about thirty hours of literature and classics in grad school. Consequently, I've read a fair amount of literary criticism. Irrespective of how cogently one argues that Melville's Moby Dick is great literature, it will not convince me. I've read too much truly great literature and thought too much about what constitutes great literature to think otherwise. Similarly, there is no amount of art criticism sophistry that will convince that Pollock's "Enchanted Forest" is great art. To the contrary, to even try to make that argument seems to me insane.
There is an ineffable quality to any good visual art, like music, that most be sensed or felt and not overly rationalized. Critics over rational and attempt to put into words what can't be. This can lead to calling black white, night day, ugly sublime, and the frivolous profound.

Of course, I would hardly argue with anyone who likes Jackson Pollock. De gustibus non est disputandum. I like McDonald's French fries, as do most people, but few would argue they are great cuisine. My own tastes are dictated by my temperament, life experience, education and intelligence, like everyone. Also, I took a few semesters of art in high school and learned (and to some extent mastered) the basics of perspective and figure drawing. An ink still life and an acrylic painting of mine won third place and honorable mention in a regional contest with art selected from other high schools. Consequently, I have no taste for most abstract art, which demonstrates no obvious skill or forethought.

In sum, for what it is, this is a good book. It seems to me about the best way to study art: a little about the artists and a work or two with an explanation of the work as best it can be explained. The rub is the "understanding painting". Sometimes there's not really anything to understand despite the argument to the contrary. What is there to understand about "Black Square" or "Four Darks in Red"? Any explanation is just the Emperor's New Clothes.

[Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci was the illusion of reality and naturalism that was radiated. The apostles robes are reflected in the tin cups and plates.

The extended arm in Peter Paul Rubens Samson and Delilah is similar to the extended arm in The Death of Marat by Jacques Louis David, the Entombment of Christ by Caravaggio, The Descent From the Cross also by Rubens

Eyes are portrayed with such feelings by Rembrandt in The Night Watch, Goya in the Third of May

The background in many paintings is not noticed as well as the main subject as in Samson and Delilah by Rubens, A Bar at the Folies Bergere by Edouard Manet, and Les Meninas by Diego Velazquez.

The use of lines and spaces in the paintings In a Cafe (Absinthe) by Edgar Degas, A Sunday on La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat, Nighthawks by Edward Hopper is fascinating.