Santa Caterina d'Alessandria, by Caravaggio

Excess luggage from
the home page of
A. Caranti,

includes art pictures, with comments

That's me!

Some of my older papers One of Kurt Schwitters' Merzbilder
A Picture Gallery
Why the pictures on my pages? I am no art expert, but I like visiting museums and exhibitions whenever I have a chance. So I have decided to share my visual experiences with the visitors to my home page, by posting pictures I have recently seen, usually face-to-face. Here are the pictures I have used.

I have grown too lazy to write too much about all the exhibitions and museums I have seen, so I just add a few pictures here and there, throwing in the odd comment. Please write me for comments, or if you are interested in the details.

In June 2003 I discovered the works of Thomas Jones, a Welsh painter who travelled to Italy, writing a diary (whose printed critical edition I am going to buy soon). In February 2004 I saw an exhibition at the National Gallery in London. See also the entry about him at Tate, and the entry about him in Giornale Nuovo.

The two main pictures on my home page right now (end of February 2004) are by him - both were at the NG show. IMHO Thomas Jones was able to see both the filth and the beauty of Southern Italy (a not-so-easy feat to this day if you come from the North), and actually could see that they belonged together - no digital (er, mental) removal of "lowly" details here.

He must have been in a state of grace when he did his works in Naples in 1782 - here at the right - they had a wall (!) for themselves at the NG show, and that wall stood out.

  • Read about A Wall in Naples in the article by Jonathan Jones in the Guardian, in particular: Not only is nothing happening in this picture, but nothing has happened or is going to happen, except that eventually someone will take in the laundry. Jonathan Jones is reminded of Seurat - I was thinking of Cezanne. (See also the comments on the NG site.)
  • There is also an article by Andrew Graham-Dixon in the Daily Telegraph - he says that [many] of his sketches have a snapshot immediacy that seems to predict the cool gaze of photography, but Jones' talent for composition is surely exquisite - it takes more than a camera to make a good photograph.
  • There is an article in the 10 July 2003 issue of The Economist, but it's for subscribers only - perhaps we may quote: The most famous [painting], "A Wall in Naples", has been called "one of the great microcosms of painting". Though a detailed and beautiful depiction of what Jones might have seen from his hot upper window, the sketch has a flatness and all-over composition that would not have looked out of place among experiments in abstraction 150 years later.
  • Also for subscribers only is the article by Merlin James from the 13 June 2003 issue of the Times Literary Supplement, from which I first learned about Jones: What does it mean to give an accurate, matter-of-fact description of the world, or part of the world, or something in the world? When I try to describe objectively what I perceive in front of me, or around me, to what extent am I giving an account of myself - of my own impressions? How do I set limits on what I choose to describe, decide what is the focus of my attention and what is incidental or "background"? [...] These questions, such as one might expect from a philosophical treatise, are asked by the tiny, mesmerizing oil sketches of buildings in Naples, made in 1782 by the Welsh artist Thomas Jones.
  • There are many more comments about TJ on the web. We list some in no particular order: Brian Micklethwait, PI mag, UC London, The Art Newspaper, New York Review of Books (partly subscribers-only), euromuse

Nighthawks, by Edward Hopper

Above: Nighthawks, by Edward Hopper, which I saw at the Art Institute of Chicago in Spring 2003.
Right: Riposo durante la fuga in Egitto, by Caravaggio, at the Galleria Doria Pamphili in Rome. The rich nature background is about unique in his works. The model, as it often happens with Caravaggio reappears in the same pose as Maria Maddalena in another picture, also at Galleria Doria Pamphili.
Riposo durante la fuga in Egitto, by Caravaggio
La feé ignorante by Magritte One of the many good Italian films that came out in 2000/01 is Le fate ignoranti (The ignorant fairies) by Turkish/Italian director Ferzan Ozpetek.

In June 2001 I was visiting the Magritte - La storia centrale exhibit at Complesso del Vittoriano in Rome, and came upon the picture La feé ignorante (The ignorant fairy) you see here. I understand Ozpetek indeed took his title from this picture.

By the way, (some of) the other good Italian movies of the season were IMVHO, Nanni Moretti's Stanza del figlio, Gabriele Muccino's L'ultimo bacio and Giulio Manfredonia's Se fossi in te.

A fresco from the Domus Aurea The Domus Aurea reopened to the general public in the late years of the twentieth century. Still, its frescoes and paintings had influenced artists like Raffaello, who managed to get access to it. IMHO, here you see one of the roots of our taste for colours and decoration.
Composition 7 by Wassily Kandinsky I was born in Rome, and I still have family there, so I end up visiting the city a couple of times a year. I usually take these chances to visit the current exhibitions. In December 2000 I was to Wassily Kandinsky - Between Munich and Moscow 1896-1921. An art historian took us through the pictures. That was very useful. As a kid in school, I couldn't grasp the point of Art History. It's only when I got my hands on The Life and Art of Albrecht Durer by E. Panofsky, that I understood what was going on. In school I was taught the traditional "idealistic" viewpoint, in which great stress is given to the feelings an art object is supposed to evoke in the better part of your inner self. With me, most of the times no bells were ringing, so what? Through Panofsky's book I came to realize that one can (simply put) try and understand what's in a picture, and end up not just watching it but seeing it. Very often it's only after a careful study that you see a picture spring to life. The tour of the Kandinsky exhibition a very competent art historian gave us was just another example of this phenomenon.
A mosaic from Mausoleo di Galla Placidia, Ravenna When I was a kid, my parents kept taking me and my sisters on "cultural tours", that for us meant an endless string of dull churches, palazzi or museums. Then one day we went to Ravenna, and I was struck by the mosaics. I finally saw if not the light at least the point.
I have been to Ravenna several times since - in the Spring of 2000 I went there with my kids, now a parent myself. It was a deep emotion once more, a new, different one. So I decided to post a picture of one of the mosaics of Galla Placidia on my front page. Go to Ravenna yourself, and no doubt you'll see my point - your own way, that is.
And how did my kids like it, you may ask. Well, they are third-generation tourists, you know, and they just loved it!
Only later I realized that my recent infatuation with colours, as displayed on these pages, is presumably related to my latest visit to Ravenna.
A mosaic from Mausoleo di Galla Placidia, Ravenna