Ideal painting in the Renaissance was an art of illusionism that eliminated for the viewer any overt sense of its making. Titian’s paintings, in contrast, with their roughly worked and “open” surfaces, unexpected glazes, and thick impasto brushstrokes, made the fact of the paint increasingly visible. Previous scholars have read these paintings as unfinished or the product of lesser studio hands, but in The Muddied Mirror, Jodi Cranston argues that this approach to paint is integral to Titian’s later work. Rather than presenting in paint a precise reflection of the visible world, the artist imparted an intrinsic corporeality to his subjects through the varying mass and thickness of the paint. It is precisely the materiality and “disfiguration” of these paintings that offer us the key to understanding their meanings. More important, the subjects of Titian’s late paintings are directly related to the materiality of the body―they represent physical changes wrought through violence, metamorphosis, and desire.
Jodi Cranston's book discusses Titian's late work in a lengthy introduction followed by three chapters. It is a compact text filled with rich discussion which concerns not only the style and material aspects of Titian's paintings, but their connection to Cinquecento art theory and literature. The first chapter concerns the "Mellon Venus" in the Washington National Gallery and discusses the generative and physical qualities of the muddied reflection in the mirror. In the second chapter, the "Flaying of Marsyas" becomes the focus, and the author contrasts the innate stillness of the work with the action present in Titian's other mythological paintings. In its stillness and forma characteristics, the painting emulates the composition of 15th century religious artworks, but the action and materiality allude to this scene commemorating the act of painting itself. The last chapter concerns the "violence" of the brushwork in these late works, connecting this to colore/disegno gendered conversations, sculpture, and manifesting in Titian's late half-lengths, which, even in "non finito," return to the Giorgione-esque ideal of his early style while also marking a farewell.
My favorite chapter was the second, which I found highly readable and interesting. The juxtaposition of this late masterpiece with other depictions of this episode, and against 15th century myths and religious works was highly revealing. And most fascinating was the discussion of the "self-portrait" of Titian as King Midas. Cranston is interested in not whether it is necessarily a self-portrait, but in the significance of this self-portrait as this unusual figure, and takes on the recent art historical desire to discover hidden self-portraits in larger works, which, while psychologically stemming from Vasari, is largely 20th century practice.
My main challenge was the assertion that the absence of a parapet in the portrait of Doge Andrea Gritti recalls the described visceral impact of ancient portraits. Perhaps I am wrong, but this seems contradictory to the element of parapets that emulate ancient portraits. Also, this was probably the publisher's decision, but having "Tarquin and Lucretia" and "Nymph and Shepherd" (which are only briefly mentioned) on the covers, rather than the "Mellon Venus" and the "Flaying" (which are the subjects of the first and second chapters) seemed unusual.