Saint Agnes by Domenichino (19th century steel engraving)

hall-01-med
St. Agnes, by Domenichino. 19th Century engraving after the original in the Royal Collection

(Note to the reader: I published this post earlier, in 2016, but I now have substantially edited the text and will therefore publish it anew.)

It is a sunny May, 1st here in the north of the Netherlands. So time for a bit of art history. Some time ago, I wrote a post about two big and heavy books filled with 19th century engravings of original works of art in the British Royal Collection. The books, published by P. & D. Colnaghi Co. between 1854 and 1860, and written and researched by Samuel Carter Hall (1800 – 1889), are a collection of steel engravings, created by a team of engravers who worked about 6 years on the project.

The engravings were originally published as separate prints, and as a collection in two heavy volumes. The books in my possession are, alas, in poor condition. The engravings are still very crisp, and clean, but the bindings are damaged. The books are simply too big, heavy, and unwieldy and the spines have suffered from transport, storage in suboptimal conditions, wear and tear. When I open them now to make photographs, I put them on a cradle of cushions and a wicker chair that has just the right shape and size to carefully and safely open them. By now, I have photographed most of the images, but I have only just started to make photographs of the descriptions.

This is the first one, St. Agnes, a charming painting by Domenichino. After photographing the text, I created a PDF and performed an OCR run. I then cleaned up the result, which contained many mistakes and scanning errors. The text below is the cleaned-up version, and therefore a facsimile of the original. I have kept the original spelling, e.g. ‘Raffaele’, and I have restored the smart, or curly quotes, as in the original.

The engraver of this image is a Mr. S. Smith.

Here follows the complete description, taken from the volume:

ST. AGNES.

DOMENICHINO

DOMENICO ZAMPIERI, or, as he is usually called, Domenichino, born at Bologna in 1581, was one of the most illustrious painters of the Bolognese school, and among the most distinguished scholars who went forth from the studio of the Caracci: his talents and success throughout his career were so remarkable as to excite the constant jealousy and ill-will of many of his contemporaries. Soon after he had entered the Academy of the Caracci, he bore away the principal prize from all his competitors, among whom were Guido and Albano; with the latter Domenichino formed an intimate friendship, and, on leaving the school, they visited together Parma, Modena, and Reggio, to study the works of Parmegiano and Correggio. Albano then went to Rome, whither he was shortly followed by his friend. The Cardinal Agucchi was the first who so far appreciated the genius of Domenichino as to extend to him his patronage: he employed him to decorate his palace, and gave him a commission to paint three pictures for the Church of S. Onofria. Annibal Caracci was at this time in Rome, occupied with his great work in the Farnese Gallery, and he engaged Domenichino to execute a portion of it from his cartoons : in the loggia of the garden he painted from his own designs “The Death of Adonis”. On the recommendation of Caracci, whose failing health incapacitated him from undertaking any new commissions, Domenichino was employed, in conjunction with Guido, by the Cardinal Borghese, in the Church of S. Gregorio.

The next great Roman ecclesiastic who sought to avail himself of his talents was the Cardinal Aldobrandini, whose villa at Frascati he decorated with frescoes, ten in number, from the life of Apollo. Soon after his completion of these works he commenced his grand picture of “The Last Communion of St. Jerome,” for the principal altar of the Church of S. Girolamo della Carita, at Rome : this work has universally been regarded as the chef-d’oeuvre of the master, and second only to Raffaelle’s “Transfiguration” among the pictures of the world. When the French armies, during the wars of the revolution, rifled Italy of her Art-treasures, this was one of the first works on which they laid violent hands; and, until the peace of 1815, it ornamented the gallery of the Louvre: it was then restored, with the other pictures and statues that had been carried off, and is now in the gallery of the Vatican, in the same apartment with the “Transfiguration,” and four other pictures by Raffaelle – a splendid exhibition in themselves.

The fame Domenichino acquired by this picture only redoubled the malevolence of his rivals, who at length succeeded in driving him out of Rome: he returned to Bologna, where he passed several years in the quiet exercise of his talents; but Pope Gregory XV., unwilling to lose his valuable services, prevailed upon him once more to visit Rome, and appointed him principal painter and architect to the pontifical palace. He died in 1641 , after a life laboriously passed in the earnest and successful pursuit of an art which he loved and practised in all sincerity.

His “St. Agnes,” one of the “heir-looms” of the British crown, was formerly an altar-piece, but from what church it was taken, and when it was brought to England, there seems to be no positive information: the picture, prior to its removal to its present location, was at Kensington Palace. The youthful saint – who according to tradition , suffered martyrdom at the age of thirteen, in the year 303 – is standing in an attitude of deep devotion; an angel is flying towards het with a crown and palm-branch, while another is seated at her feet caressing a lamb, the symbol of St. Agnes, who is the peculiar patroness of innocence and purity of mind. The head – its long hair confined by a rich tiara – is of exceeding beauty; the figure is designed with great elegance, and the entire composition is elevated in character, is painted with great warmth and transparency of colour, and is regarded as one of the artist’s best pictures.

It is in the collection at Windsor Castle: the canvas measures 7 ft. by 5 ft.

S.C. Hall

I will work my way through the volumes, probably in a very low pace.

Work in progress – another asemic panel

(Pour la version Française »)

After a small series of asemic works on paper, I decided to attack a small wooden panel of 20 x 20 x 3 cm. I think I am half way now.

Asemic writing comes in all kinds and sizes. It literally means without meaning, or without semantics. Asemic art can be very close to, or identical with, abstract art, but it may also occupy a position on the opposite side of the spectrum, being far more figurative. There are no rules. Some asemic writing resembles cursive of furtive handwritten text, other works come very close to formal scripts.

Having no definite semantics doesn’t entail that the works are meaningless. Far from it. Meaning can be derived from the image as a whole, from colours, from gesture, from tension, from size, and a myriad of other elements. However, that meaning is not transmitted by a system of conventional signs. Associations, feelings, flashbacks, the image may resonate in many ways in the mind of the beholder.

“The Conversation” – Acrylic on wood panel, 20 cm x 20 cm x 3 cm.

My asemic works are quite close to my other pieces. They don’t aim for realism, but are closer akin to illustrations and cartoons.

Hieroglyphs, runes and Sabaean script inspire my asemic drawings and paintings. But there are many more writing systems I admire. Images derived from these scripts are interspersed with elements I created out of nothing.

Unlike many artists from the global asemic movement, I never scribble and splash. I prepare my work with a ground layer, or wash, if it is on paper, and proceed in a slow process of planning, sketching and refining.

Like painters of orthodox icons, I build the image with thin layers of paint. It is a slow process. I intend to keep the inky outlines of the figures, the architecture and the script. In this work I also layered the script-bubbles. From a dark reddish brown to a whitish ochre. It gives them the chalky appearance of walls in Egyptian tombs. I enjoyed the subtle interplay of sandstone and pigments on the walls of the desert-graves in the Valley of the Kings in Luxor.

Backside. These panels come in different sizes. This is the smallest.

The centre of the panel is nearly done. Most of the remaining work will be the refining of the surrounding architecture, which will be darkened, while the outlines will be retouched, because they continually get smudged when working with brushes. I intend to keep the 3D highlight effects to a minimum.

The wood panels come pre-built. I know, that, with a bit of skill and patience, you can make these panels. But, not me. I might acquire the skills, but I certainly don’t have the patience. And why trying to do something badly if others do it well? I order these panels online from the German company Gerstaecker. They come in a number of sizes and are quite reasonably priced. Just apply some layers of gesso and you’re good to go.

In a few weeks I might show the finished object.

A first layer of acrylic gold applied. I will finish it when the image is fully done.

Hommerage to J.A.A.J. of Dublin

Gouache drawing of colourful shapes and fragmented people by Eelco Bruinsma
“Hommerage to J.A.A.J. of Dublin, stream of consciousness” (© Eelco Bruinsma 2018 – gouache on 250 gsm watercolour paper)

Hommerage to J.A.A.J. of Dublin

Liechtenstein and Wittgenstein
Were all but umbered and saffroned
By mere kandleknights of everwhites
For all the wondrous globulisers to ignore.

And evangelically synecdochistic and stochasmic
Appeared a chance to disappear and dissipate
In multiple monoperplexing spectrometrics
Within two miles from Ramesses’ nihilistic Nilometer.

’t Was with great funferall that
A bottle of Craux Magnon
From the cellars of Faux Mignonne
Was decorkitated and capitulised.

With circumspect glossaries of
Dossaries and red-nosed rosaries
While the words of the good man
Were dissecticised with circumflex
Instrumechanics of hardened zinnober
While reciting spoonfuls of Amens.

(Eelco Bruinsma 2018)

My spell checker didn’t like this poem at all. I had to push cmd-z many times to roll back the autocorrected suggestions while typing the handwritten version. It is obviously a hommage to one of the greatest writers of the 20th century, James (Augustine Aloysius) Joyce (1882-1942). I started reading his works when still at school, ages ago, and never stopped.

Of course there have been many people that tried to imitate his layered language, some attempts are better than others. I do not pretend to compete with either of them. Finnegans Wake is one of the most musical works of literature that I know. When you hear the rare recordings of James Joyce reading a passage from the book, you will instantly know why.

This work is written to be read aloud. Try it with this poem too, with a rolling old-fashioned ‘r’. There is one word in the poem, which is directly cited from Finnegans Wake, perhaps one of the most central concepts in the work. Joyce adepts will immediately spot it, do you?

Still, looking at it, I am quite pleased with a few neologisms.

The image preceded the poem. While I was making the drawing a parallel process started in my head, which eventually became the poem. The illustration is a 29,7 x 42 cm gouache.

Architecture is Music

Image of appartement building with all interiors visible.
“Architecture is Music”. Eelco Bruinsma 2018.

Often when I look at architecture and architectural drawings, I have an almost synesthetic perception of music. Not a real melody, but a sense of musical rhythm, somewhere deep inside me. Of course the structure of a piece of music is often referred to as its ‘architecture’, so the association between these two arts is not really uncommon. This inspired me to create this image of an apartment building with the facade removed. The visual elements in the interior, and the structural elements of the building are like a colourful musical notation with nested patterns, repetition, and silence.

The image is available as an art print in our Etsy shop.

It comes signed and numbered in a limited edition of 50, in sizes A3 (297 x 420 mm / 11,7 x 16,5 inch) and A2 (420 x 594 mm / 16,5 x 23,4 inch).

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween. Gouache by Eelco Bruinsma, 2017. Halloween theme with text.
Happy Halloween. Gouache, Eelco Bruinsma, 2017

Pumpkins Galore

Pumpkins Galore!. By Eelco Bruinsma, watercolour, gouache, India Ink 2017
Pumpkins Galore!. By Eelco Bruinsma, watercolour, gouache, India Ink 2017. Pumpkins and other Halloween objects.

I simply had to make this. Every year I want to make some Halloween illustrations, but usually, I only think about it when there is only little time. Now I started just in time. It’s fairly rough, and loose because painted in between other jobs. Ink, gouache for the bottles, pumpkins and mushrooms, and watercolour for the sky. I also now discovered that these materials go well together. I think I have always been too strict, sticking to one technique, or material at the time. It’s a bit of an artist’s dogma I think.

‘Automatic’ India ink drawing #2

I know that the term ‘automatic’ in conjunction with writing and drawing conjures up the Surrealists and psychoanalysis. I have always been interested in the process because I am a fan of the Surrealists and Dada. Many years ago a tried to write poetry in this fashion, but I lost most of the results. And, of course, I like all things ‘Automattic’, because WordPress blogs are what the web is all about.

Recently (see my previous post) I rediscovered the charm of automatic creation. Using a very basic graphic design tool: an ink pen that can only be used to draw lines along a ruler.  I exhibited the results in September 2016 during an art event. In fact, I created them on the evening before the opening, because most of my oil and acrylic paintings were not finished in time. People were charmed by the freshness and lack of finish of the drawings. Some of them I coloured with pencil (Faber-Castell Polychromos), and some I coloured with watercolour.

The inspiration for the drawings originates in Italy, and more specifically a journey from Le Marche to Lazio, and Umbria. The drawings are ‘inspired’ by the landscapes and villages, not literal copies, they are concatenations of shapes that popped up during these automatic drawing sessions. The pen, the unstoppable flow of ink, are the main protagonists of these drawings. These pens are created to draw straight lines of even thickness, they are totally unsuitable for fine drawing. But they are great to invent things as you go an to discover the things your mind throws at you.

My mental world is the world of pre-Socratic philosophy, myth, and eternal landscapes, which is also reflected in these drawings. Are they art?

Central corridor of ‘Voorheen de 5 Platanen’ with the 4 drawings.

 

The pen.

Automatic drawing #3

Automatic drawing #4, “Bagnoregio and Cività”.

Automatic drawing #5.

 

“Orvieto”

A free impression based on a visit to Orvieto (Umbria, It.) last summer. In September 2016 I made a series of very quick sketches using India ink, and a very old pen used for technical ruler drawing. The pen has a perpendicular screw that governs the flow of ink. These pens were normally used for technical drawings, frames etc. I inherited this one from my father, who used it when he was a typography student.

The ink flows out, and you can’t do much to control it. So you have to move very fast, and preferably without a pause, because when you stop it will get you a blob of ink. No time to plan, no time to think, just go. A perfect way to create spontaneous drawings with flaws and all.

'Orvieto'. Indian Ink on grey paper. Eelco Bruinsma 2017.
‘Orvieto’. India ink on grey paper. Eelco Bruinsma 2017.

I used very rough blueish grey sketching paper that I bought years ago and can’t find anywhere any more.

Sea level

Drawing of a ship reflected as a church in the water by Eelco Bruinsma
“Sea level”, pencil on paper. Eelco Bruinsma 2016

Inspired by Italian villages and the sea that surrounded me in August, I spent as much time as I could with my little Hahnemühle travel sketch book and a technical pencil. Re-inventing my impressions.

Addition (19 september 2016)

Just for fun I uploaded this drawing into Adobe Color CC to see which color theme this web application would automatically distill from the limited palette. I called it – quite originally – “Graphite Pencil”. I like it, the software has chosen a balanced distribution of greys.

050b9d7d6f3626a10234324a8883e408