Can You Guess the Artist?

If a famous artist like Leonardo da Vinci passed you on the street, would you recognize him? There is little doubt that you would instantly recognize his painting of the Mona Lisa, but what about the face that created the Mona Lisa? I have a feeling that most people wouldn't recognize a majority of famous artists, but I might be wrong. Try and guess the artist depicted in each of these portraits/self-portraits. (I tried to avoid self-portraits that are too indicative of the artist's style - I don't want that to give the answer away!) The answers are in the comment section of this post.



How did you do?

Nefertiti and CT

I never thought I would be interested in reading an article in my father-in-law's Radiology magazine. However, I was intrigued that the cover of their recent issue has a picture of the famous Nefertiti statue bust (made by the artist Thutmose, Dynasty XVIII (ca. 1353-1335 BC)). Recently, some computed tomography (CT) performed on the core and surface of the statue bust has revealed new information.

According to this article, there are slightly different physical characteristics which appear on the inner core of the statue (consequently revealing a "second hidden face").¹ On the inner core, the CT revealed that there "creases around the corners of the mouth and cheeks, a less harmonious nose ridge, and less prominent cheekbones. The nose [also] showed a slight bump."²

The visible outer layer (left) and the inner layer (right) show a difference in the nose (the bump is indicated by an arrow)

Although the outer surface of stucco refined and softened these wrinkles and bumps, it is also interesting that there is a more pronounced shaping of the eyelid corners on the outer layer (see image below). This emphasis on the outer eyes supports interpretations that this bust was supposed to be recognized as a depiction of a mature woman, not of a woman of flawless beauty."⁴

The shaping of the eyelid corners on the outer (visible) surface can be seen on the right (indicated by *). On the inner core (left) creases in the corners of the mouth (arrows) were found.

I think it's fascinating to look at different facial characteristics on the inner core - perhaps the inner core is a more correct representation of how Nefertiti appeared in life. It's great that technology can help historians and archaeologists learn more about art. In this study, CT also showed more information regarding the types of tools and materials that were used to sculpt the bust. In addition, further details were revealed about the thickness of the stucco, which will serve as useful information for conservators.

Although I didn't understand all of the scientific terminology or system of measurement used in this article, it was still interesting to read. Perhaps I should pick up Radiology more often?

1 Alexander Huppertz et al, "Nondestructive Insights into Composition of the Sculpture of Egyptian Queen Nefertiti with CT," Radiology 251, no. 1 (April 2009): 236.

2 Ibid.

3 Ibid., 239.

4 Ibid.

Indulgences and Baroque Art

A recent article in the New York Times caught my attention: Catholic indulgences are back.

Indulgences are an interesting topic in the history of art, particularly because the initial selling of indulgences brought about the Protestant Reformation. Martin Luther was discontented with the Catholic church for many reasons, including the selling of indulgences. In 1517, he wrote 95 theses which outlined his discontent with the Catholic church. He nailed a copy of these theses onto the door of the Wittenburg church.

To retaliate against the Reformation, the Catholic church began the Counter-Reformation movement. It was hoped that the Catholics could reconvert any souls who had fallen astray to Protestant paths. The Counter-Reformation also allowed the church to defend itself against Luther's criticisms. The Council of Trent was organized to help the church define the doctrines of the church and also rebuttal Protestant heresies. Also, the Council of Trent stipulated the purpose of art within the Church; these stipulations served as an outline for much of the art produced during the Baroque period.

I love Counter-Reformation (Southern Baroque) art because it is so propagandistic. The art and architecture is dramatic and emotional to help facilitate the process of reconversion. Here are a three of my favorite propagandistic pieces:

Bernini designed this piazza (plaza; 1656-1667) in front of St. Peter's Cathedral (the seat of the Vatican). This photograph is taken from the top of the cathedral, looking outwards at the plaza. Many art historians discuss how the colonnade of Bernini's piazza extends itself like two arms, reaching out and embracing those who walk up to the church. This can be interpreted propagandistically: it is as if the church is reaching out to welcome back anyone who was temporarily disillusioned by Protestantism.

To promote reconversion during the Counter-Reformation, there are many Baroque paintings which touch on this theme. I especially like Caravaggio's painting of The Conversion of St. Paul (1600-1601). This painting is on the wall of the Cerasi Chapel (Santa Maria del Popolo, Rome), and the viewer of the painting is practically standing underneath Paul's head. The painting is composed dramatically, with Paul's foreshortened body pushed to the edge of the foreground; it is as if Paul's body is about to spill out of the picture and land on top of the viewer beneath! Other dramatic elements, such as the tenebristic lighting (violent contrasts between light and dark) grab the viewer's attention. Dramatic paintings intended to catch the viewer's attention and evoke an emotional response that would help facilitate piety and reconversion.

Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Theresa (1645-52) is also located in a chapel (Cornaro Chapel, Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome). Oh man, there is so much to say in regards to this sculpture and propaganda. Once again, this sculpture propagandistically depicts a moment of conversion. After Theresa's father died, she fell into a series of visions and trances. At this time, a fire-tipped arrow of Divine love was repeatedly pierced into Theresa's heart by an angel. St. Theresa described this "experience as making her swoon in delightful anguish."¹ The dramatic quality of this sculpture is captured in the movement of Theresa's heavy drapery. The drapery folds and falls around her body in a very energetic way, as if it has a life of its own. I also love the dark shadows that are created by the drapery folds. The contrast of the dark shadows and light marble reminds me of the tenebristic lighting that Caravaggio used in his paintings. The dramatic nature of this sculpture is enhanced because of its location; the niche of the chapel is crowned with a stage-like pediment and marble columns.

The Ecstasy of St. Theresa and Conversion of St. Paul also are propagandistic because they depict Catholic saints. The veneration of saints was a practice that was denounced by the Protestants. Therefore, by depicting the moment of conversion for a saint, the Catholic church visually asserted its stance on saints and sainthood. (I have written a little more about the veneration of saints in Baroque art here.)

What do people think about art and propaganda? Any thoughts on the return of indulgences? What Counter-Reformation works of art do you like?

1 Fred S. Kleiner and Christin J. Mamiya, Gardner's Art Through the Ages, 12th ed., vol. 2 (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 2005), 696.

The Hispanic Baroque Group

All of the sudden, today's results from a Google search made me feel like I had a huge group of new friends.

Intro to Mesolithic Art

In recent editions of art history texts, the Mesolithic period ("Middle Stone Age") is only briefly mentioned as a "transitory" era between the Paleolithic and Neolithic ("New Stone Age") periods. I think that the word "transitory" is used because the early Mesolithic period was an age of hunting and gathering, whereas the end of the period saw the development of farming. In regards to art, though, I think this period is difficult to discuss because it is hard to interpret Mesolithic art. Soren H. Anderson points out that while some Mesolithic artifacts are decorated, we do not know the intent of the decoration. These objects could have been marked to indicate ownership, gender differentiation, or social rank.¹ Any deeper symbolic meaning of these decorations is impossible without a knowledge of the mythology of the Mesolithic people.

Some Mesolithic rock paintings that I like are located on the east coast of Spain. It is very likely that these paintings in shallow rock shelters originated from cave art. Above is a reproduction of a cave painting at Cingle de la Mola, Remigia (Castellon, Spain), c. 7000-4000 BC. The legs are spread wide apart, which suggests that the men in the group are either leaping or marching, perhaps in conjunction with a ritual dance. I think these paintings are interesting because they show individualized, descriptive features like the headdress of the leader. Art historically, these images are important because they show the human figure in a composite view - the torso is shown from a frontal perspective, whereas the legs and head are shown in profile. Obviously, it would be impossible for the human body to contort into this position, but the composite view allows for a more descriptive, detailed depiction of the human body.

There are other interesting artifacts from the Mesolithic period as well, such as amber statues of wild boar from Scandinavia. In Norway, rock engravings of elk, furred creatures (such as foxes) and small whales have been found along the coast and freshwater concourses ¹. I especially like the Azilian painted pebbles (shown left, c. 9,050 BC (c. 11,000 BP)) that come from the Mesolithic period. The function of these rocks is unknown; some scholars think that they might be for a cult ritual, but I am drawn to a different interpretation that the painted forms represent letters or numbers (some type of writing system).

If you are interested in learning more about Mesolithic art, you might like to read this book.

1 David M. Jones, et al. "Prehistoric Europe." In Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online, http://www.oxfordartonline.com.erl.lib.byu.edu/subscriber/article/grove/art/T069317pg3 (accessed March 18, 2009).

2 Ibid.

Juxtaposition of Images

Mieke Bal's book Looking In: The Art Of Viewing has forever changed the way that I look at exhibitions in art museums and galleries. In her chapter "On Grouping," Bal discusses how the juxtaposition of different images on a museum wall can create meanings and connotations which never would have existed otherwise. She discusses a grouping of three paintings in a Berlin museum: Amor Vincit Omnia (Caravaggio), Doubting Thomas (Caravaggio, shown above) and also Heavenly Amor Defeats Earthly Love (Baglione). Specifically, she argues that the placement of Doubting Thomas between these two images of nudes creates a new dynamic within the first painting. For Bal, she feels like "Jesus' barely visible leg at the lower left becomes slightly coquettish" when placed alongside Caravaggio's nude Amor (whose sprawled legs cover a good portion of its canvas).¹ If you're interested, you can read parts of Bal's argument and see a grouping of the three images online.

Since reading this article a few years ago, I am constantly looking for new meanings and connotations which come about because of the juxtaposition of images in a museum. A few years ago I helped hang an exhibition which featured work by the artist Sean Diediker. Due to the size of the paintings and the space of the museum, it ended up that a large painting of a female nude was placed to the left of a painting of Joseph Smith (the Mormon prophet) receiving a vision. Joseph Smith was kneeling down in semi-profile, looking at a vision that was placed to the left of the picture frame. If the picture frames between the nude and Smith were invisible, then the boy prophet would have been looking right at the nude woman. All of the sudden, the look of surprise and awe on Joseph Smith's face began to look a little more embarrassed, as if he wasn't supposed to be staring at a nude female!

As Bal points out in her book, every viewer brings their own personal experiences ("cultural baggage") and past to a work of art. Therefore, we all have our own personal reaction to what kind of dialogue and connotations are created by a work of art. The writer of this article reacted to a past installation at the Whitney Museum (shown below), saying that "the juxtaposition of Urs Fischer’s Intelligence of Flowers (holes in the wall) and Untitled (hanging shapes) with Rudolf Stingel’s black & white photorealistic self-portrait creates an impression of crushing despondency in the face of a wrecked world."

I agree that such a reaction to this exhibition of art is possible. Personally though, having just seen a recent episodes of LOST that involve swinging pendulums and abandoned Dharma Initiative stations, I can't help but think of anything else when I look at these hanging shapes, circles, and gaping holes.

Have you ever found interesting connotations or dialogue that was created by the juxtaposition of artwork? What kind of personal "cultural baggage" has affected your reaction to a work of art?

1 Mieke Bal, Looking In: The Art Of Viewing (New York: Routledge, 2000), 184.

Rethinking the Family of Charles IV

Like most people who study art, I was taught that Goya's portrait, Family of Charles IV (1800-1801), is a caricature of the royal family. Most introductory art history textbooks discuss the ugly features of the family members and their awkward poses. In short, the painting was supposed to reveal the stupidity of the royal family. I further interpreted this picture to show the family in an unflattering light - who in the royal family would approve of having a young woman (on the left) painted with her face turned towards the wall?

In fact, I was going to write a post on this unflattering portrait until I began to do some more research this morning.

Recently (within the past decade), there have been new arguments regarding Goya's portrait of Charles IV and his family. Edward J. Olszewski argued in 1999 that the Goya adds a sense of animation to this portrait because the sitters lack a common focal point. However, he also admits that there is a lack of unity that resulted because Goya sketched the members of the group individually, not collectively.¹ He argues that the family members approved of the sketches that were taken for the portrait. Suggestions that a family member looks "foolish" or awkward are because the elderly Dona Maria Josefa was suffering from the effects of lupis (she died shortly after the portrait was completed) and Dona Maria Luisa Josefina (on the far right, holding a baby) suffered from a spinal defect.² In addition, Olszewski finds the brilliant colors and pigments in the painting to be very favorable; they were quite modern for the period.

I also learned from Olszewski's article that the woman on the left side of the canvas (with her face turned towards the wall) is the future bride of the prince regent, as yet unchosen. Of course she would be depicted with her face towards the wall, since the family wasn't sure whose face to portray! Maria Antonia could have been painted in the portrait after she and Ferdinand married in 1802, but Goya was never asked to change the painting.

As for the infamous critic's statement that the painting looks like a "grocer and his family who have just won the big lottery prize," Alisa Luxenberg wrote in 2002 that this statement has been misquoted.³ Several historians have picked up on this quote and scattered it throughout art historical texts. She and Olszewski both point out that a similar quote was stated by Renoir in 1907. Renoir mentioned that the portrait looked "like a butcher's family in their Sunday best." However, the point of this comment was not to pinpoint the painting as caricature. Instead, this statement was an indication of Renoir's belief that "an artist's 'true' personality - meaning class to Renoir, who seemed acutely sensitive to his own working-class roots - manifests itself in art. In the recounting of this discussion, Renoir supposedly explained that Goya's plebian background emerged in his rendering of artistocrats as shopkeepers."⁴

These articles have made me rethink the Family of Charles IV portrait. I still don't find many of the family members to be terribly attractive, but this doesn't mean necessarily that the portrait is a caricature. Instead, perhaps this portrait is a paradigm for its age; with the ongoing Enlightenment in the 18th century, perhaps the stress on scientific, visual evidence affected the production of idealized portraiture? Maybe the members of the family wanted to be portrayed as how they really looked, whether attractive or inattractive.

If you want to read more, I would particularly recommend Olszewski's article. It's quite fascinating.


1 Edward J. Olszewski, "Exorcising Goya's 'The Family of Charles IV'," Arbitus et Historiae 20, no. 40 (1999): 176-177.

2 Ibid., 178.

3 Alisa Luxenberg, "Further Light on the Critical Reception of Goya's 'Family of Charles IV' as Caricature," Arbitus et Historiae 23, no. 46 (2002): 179-180.

4 Ibid, 179. See also Olszewski, 182-183.

Redon's Flowers and Cezanne

Although Odilon Redon is best known for his fanciful, pre-Surrealist works like The Cyclops, I am particularly drawn to his still-lifes of flowers in vases. I'm actually quite surprised by this, because I am rarely attracted to still-life paintings. Last fall, when I went to visit the "Monet to Picasso" exhibition at the UMFA, this was my favorite painting in the show:

Vase of Flowers, c. 1905 (Cleveland Museum of Art)

One reason I like this painting so much is because of the background. The layers of different colors create these subtle changes in the background that are really beautiful, giving the painting a kind of ethereal quality.

In a letter to Emile Bernard, Cezanne mentioned that he "liked Redon's talent enormously."¹ This statement has given some reason for art historians to compare and contrast Cezanne and Redon. In an essay, Rachel Frank argues that "the differences are...striking" between between Redon and Cezanne.². Although I can agree with Frank to a degree, I see some similarities between Redon and Cezanne, primarily that both artists often apply paint in large patches of color. I especially like the "patches" on the vase (i.e. the blues, browns, whites, and blacks) of the following still-life:

Wild Flowers, gouache, c. 1912 (Musée d' Orsay)

Not long before Wild Flowers was painted, however, Redon remarked to a journalist that Cezanne's influence in the art world was fading.³ Although I don't doubt that Redon was sincere in his disillusionment with Cezanne, I still can't help but find some similarity between the two artists' styles. For me, I think that artists use the "patches" of color create different aesthetics. Cezanne's patches of color are more geometric (notice the rigidity of the squares and rectangles of pigment in the lower right corner of this painting). This geometricity emphasizes the formalistic qualities of the objects portrayed. In contrast, I think that Redon's "patches" draw more attention to the contrasts, harmonies, and subtilities of color; for me, this fanciful effect creates a more emotional response to Redon's paintings. I think that the different effects created by the paintings ties into the reason why Redon was disappointed with Cezanne - Redon was more interested in emotion and Symbolism, whereas Cezanne was more interested in formalism. To me, it is no wonder that Redon mentioned in this same interview that he was disappointed with the "theoretical, analytical nature of Cubism" (a formalistic style with which Cezanne is often associated as a precursor).⁴

Nonetheless, I think that these artists mutually influenced each other during their careers. It seems difficult for artists to not be influenced (whether it be deliberate or unintentional) by their contemporaries. What do you think? Do you see similarities or differences between Redon and Cezanne's styles?

If you like paintings of Redon's flowers in vases, you can see more of them here.

1 Elizabeth Basye Gilmore Holt, From the Classicists to the Impressionists: Art and Architecture in the 19th Century, 2nd edition (New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press, 1986), 526. Excerpt can be read online here.

2 Rachel Frank, "Cezanne and Redon," The Hudson Review 4, no. 2 (Summer, 1951): 269

3 Dario Gamboni, Potential Images: Ambiguity and Indeterminacy in Modern Art, (London: Reaktion Books, 2002), 132. Citation can be read online here.

4 Ibid.

Intro to Survey Posts & Paleolithic Art

About two weeks ago, I had a friend mention to me that she loves reading my posts but she knows nothing about art. "Where do I start?" she asked. I couldn't really pinpoint a good place to start on my blog; I write about works of art or articles that interest me, but I don't include a lot of introductory or survey information. I've been looking for some websites that I could recommend to art neophytes, but I haven't found anything yet that impresses me. So, I have decided to occasionally write some introductory posts. I will try to write in chronological order so that one can get a scope of historical progression by looking at posts under the "introductory/survey" label. I also plan on making an art history timeline that can be viewed/downloaded from this site. Hopefully these posts will be helpful and less-intimidating to newcomers to art history. I hope that the comments for these posts can not only include dialogue and feedback (any art historians are welcome to chime in!), but also be a question and answer forum. I think it will also be good for me, because I can continually review and refine my lecture notes. However, I should also mention that these posts will not be any substitute for an art history survey or art appreciation course. I plan on only writing about works of art and historical information that I find especially interesting!

Some of the earliest examples of art date about 30,000 BC. The Paleolithic ("paleo" = old, "lithic" = stone) people were the first to create representations of humans and animals. One of my favorite Paleolithic sculptures is the "Venus of Willendorf" (ca. 28,000 - 25,000 BC). This little statuette is only about four inches tall, and her navel is actually a natural indentation of the rock (it was not carved). The purpose and meaning of this statue is not clear (we obviously don't have a lot of information about paleolithic people), but many think that the exaggerated anatomical features suggest that this statuette is a fertility figurine. There is particular emphasis on the breasts, belly, and pubic area. This preoccupation with fertility makes sense, since the survival of prehistoric peoples would have depended on the fertility and child-bearing capabilities of women. Furthermore, it seems that this statue was not supposed to represent a specific individual, since there are no facial features included.

The thing I love about this statue are the itty-bitty, tiny arms that rest on top of the Venus' breasts. They are so dainty and petite in comparison to the rest of the body!

There are many cave paintings which date from the Paleolithic period. Some of the most popular cave paintings of bison are found in Lascaux, France (ca. 15,000 - 13,000 BC). Some of these bull paintings are quite large - the largest bull is over eleven feet long! These caves were discovered in the 1940 by some teenagers who were outside playing with a dog. For a while, the caves were open to the public, but the amount of visitors (and body heat) raised the temperature within the cave and fungus began to grow inside. In 1963 the cave was closed in order to preserve the paintings. Today, an exact replica of the caves is open to the public, located very near the original site.

Just as with the "Venus of Willendorf", we don't know the exact reasons why these paintings were created. Some think that bulls held some type of religious significance for ancient peoples. It could be that these paintings are located deep inside a cave because they are connected with some type of religious ritual. Horned animals also were associated with fertility in the ancient world, and these paintings be associated with a fertility ritual. You can read more about the caves official website about the caves is found here.

My favorite prehistoric cave drawings, however, are found at Pech-Merle, France (ca. 22,000 BC). These drawings depict a spotted horse, and it is possible that the spots (which are both inside and outside the horses' outlines) were created by the artist throwing painted rocks at the cave wall. The thing I love most about this cave, however, are the human hand prints. These hand prints are depicted with "negative" space, meaning that the artist placed his hand against the wall and probably blew pigment around it with a hollow reed or bone. The pigment created a "positive" space, and the original "negative" space of the cave wall depicts the hand. Even though animals are the main theme of these paintings instead of humans, I love the inclusion of the artist's (or artists') hands.

If you are interested in reading more about Paleolithic art, there is a New Yorker article which discusses cave paintings and gives some information about Chauvet cave. Although the date of the Chauvet paintings is debated, this cave possibly houses the oldest cave paintings known today.

Portrait of Shakespeare

Today's New York Times has an article about a recently "unveiled" portrait of Shakespeare, thought to date from about 1610. Scholar Stanley Wells believes that this is the only portrait of Shakespeare that was created during the playwright's lifetime. Other existing portraits (an engraving and a portrait bust) of Shakespeare were posthumous; it is thought that this recently announced painting was the model for the posthumous engraving.

Gainsborough's Portrait of Georgiana

Keeping with this week's theme of stolen art, I am particularly interested in the story regarding the portrait Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. This portrait was completed in 1787 by Thomas Gainsborough, a popular English portrait painter. I'm particularly interested in this painting because my grandparents own a reproduction of it (or else it's another painting that closely mimics the style and pose of Gainsborough's portrait - I'll have to look more closely next time I visit).

Georgiana is the great-great-great-great aunt of Princess Diana, and there have been many parallels drawn between the two women. Both beautiful women were the toast of England during their life, although Georgiana outlived her days of high public favor. (The film "The Duchess" (2008) was based on Georgiana's life; actress Kiera Knightly (who played Georgiana) was angered that her character was often compared to Diana).

Almost a century after the painting was completed, it was sold in 1876 at an auction. Crowds of people gathered to catch a glimpse of this famous portrait. It was eventually sold to the American banker Junius Spencer Morgan, who bought the painting as a gift for his son, J. P. Morgan. However, before the portrait was shipped to America, it remained for a while on exhibition in London.

During this short period of exhibition, Adam Worth crept into the Agnew Gallery and stole the Georgiana portrait from its location of display. Worth hoped that he could use the well-loved painting as collateral; he wanted to bargain with the government to get his brother John freed from prison. However, John's lawyer was able to negotiate a release for the prisoner before Adam even had time to strike a bargain with the government. Consequently, Adam Worth was left with the beautiful portrait on his hands.

For the next twenty five years, Worth kept the painting. When he traveled, he would bring the Georgiana with him in a false-bottomed trunk. While at home, Worth would sleep with the beloved portrait under his mattress. Ben Macintyre writes in his book Napoleon of Crime that Georgiana was a "permanent, hidden companion" for Worth. Even when Worth experienced financial troubles and threats of capture, the theif preferred to "face disgrace, penury, and imprisonment rather than part with the Duchess."¹ Finally, near the end of his life, Worth sold the painting for an undisclosed sum and negotiated a promise of immunity.

Today, Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire is part of the Devonshire Collection. In 1994, the current Duke of Devonshire bought the portrait and placed it at Chatsworth, his ancestral home. Edward Dolnick points out that Georgiana now "presides" in the grand dining room, the location where she held court during her lifetime.²

1 Ben Macintyre, Napoleon of Crime (New York: Harper Collins, 1997), 16.

2 Edward Dolnick, The Rescue Artist (New York: Harper Collins, 2006), 151.

Isabella Stewart Gardner

The Women's Studies Journal recently posted a call for article submissions regarding female art collectors. Here are some of the questions listed in the posting:

"Paintings and sculptures of women have long been objects of the collector's desire: what happens to this gendered dynamic when the collector is a woman? Is the drive to collect necessarily a masculine quality? What, if anything, is it to collect like a woman? Can collections be distinctively feminine? To what extent does a collection reflect its collector? What ethnic or feminist lenses may be applied to our understanding of these collections?"

(For anyone interested, the rest of the posting is found here).

I would really like to submit an article about Isabella Stewart Gardner. She was a fine art collector in the 19th-early 20th centuries and opened a museum of her collection in 1903. Today, the museum remains essentially unchanged since Isabella's death in 1924.

There are many aspects to Mrs. Gardner's life and collection that can be interpreted through a feminist lens. I think that the practice of art collecting is characteristically male, and it seems that Isabella also adopted (and perhaps flaunted?) some masculine characteristics aside from art collecting. She loved masculine sports like baseball and horseracing; the local newspapers were scandalized (and intrigued) by her behavior. Furthermore, Isabella's appellate was also masculine; she was referred to as "Mrs. Jack" ("Jack" was her husband's nickname).

However, for all of the masculine characteristics that Isabella exhibited, I think that the display and maintenance of her art collection lends itself to feminist interpretation. Specifically, I would argue that Gardner's museum (and consequently Isabella Stewart Gardner herself) resists outside control and change, which I think can be extended to a rejection of the controlling "male gaze." (I have written a little more about the "male gaze" here). Isabella stipulated in her will that the museum needs to be permanently exhibited according her aesthetic vision. I think that because the museum remains unchanged, Gardner still remains part of the female "subject" that visitors see when they come to the museum. If her art collection was to be moved around and changed, Gardner would shift from being a powerful female "subject" to a female "object" - and consequently all of the paintings in the room would become "objects" instead of embodiments of Gardner and her aesthetic taste.

Because of Isabella's will stipulations, the museum has remained unchanged since her death. Even when several masterpieces were stolen (a loss that amounted between $300 and $500 million - the biggest art heist in history!) from the museum in 1990, the museum maintained the same display (with empty frames where the stolen paintings were once located). Today, these empty frames still remain, since the crime was never solved. (You can read a little more about the crime here).

Even with these absent paintings, I think that the frames still function to represent the "subjecthood" and female control of Isabella Stewart Gardner.

What do people think about female art collectors and Isabella Stewart Gardner? How would you respond to some of the questions put forth by the Women's Studies Journal?