The desert is silent except for the quiet digging of a man resolved in his actions. His face holds a solemnly resigned expression, firm in his actions but eyes pooling with hurt upon gazing on the still body that lay next to him. Yes, you guys already know what time it is. Dead lovers time. Again. 

“Angie, really? Another painting about death and love and sadness >:((?? I’d rather stare at Saturn eating his kid >:(((” 

Yeah, I’m starting to see a bit of a pattern to my passion posts, but what can I say? My kryptonite is tragic paintings, especially when romance is involved! And oh boy does this painting really take the cake. In simple terms it’s the Romeo and Juliet of paintings, a story of two lovers that were destined to be apart. Buckle in. This story is French and French names are a lot. (Literally take the name of the artist of this painting Pascal-Adolphe-Jean Dagnan-Bouveret. Say that five times fast). 

The Burial of Manon Lescaut by Pascal-Adolphe-Jean Dagnan-Bouveret

The story is based on an 18th century novel by Abbé Prévost called, The Story of the Chevalier des Grieux and Manon Lescaut. Hence, our identity of the two subjects in the painting– the man, Chevalier des Grieux, and the woman, Manon Lescaut. The story goes as follows: Chevalier des Grieux was a young seminary student of noble birth (basically he was a rich guy studying to become a priest or something religious). He fell deeply in love with Manon Lescaut, a mysterious courtesan (prostitute). Clearly not the same class here, it seems like their relationship is off to a rough start. Manon Lescaut is then deported to New Orleans because she’s a prostitute, and Chevalier ds Grieux being the dedicated lover he is, follows her there. 

In New Orleans, they pretend to be married and it seems like all is well and happy. Unfortunately, happiness is not fated for them because their ruse is eventually revealed. When it does, the nephew of the state governor finds a fancy to Manon Lescaut. Obviously Chevalier des Grieux is like no way am I letting some other guy get with my girl so like any sane man back then, he challenges the new guy to a duel and knocks him out. Believing he killed the guy, the couple flees into Louisiana wilderness. 

Even more unfortunate, they are definitely no Lewis and Clark, and Manon Lescaut ends up dying of either exhaustion or exposure. This moment is captured in the painting, where a devastated Chevalier des Grieux is seen digging her grave in the sand next to her. Afterwards, he buries her and lays down beside her to die too. 

There’s just so much contrast to this painting that makes it so beautiful. The darkening clouds atop the calm desert, his dark expression versus her peaceful one, even the pastel colors of her dress in comparison to the dark coat laid beneath her. Side note, I didn’t even notice this until I started typing but he placed down his coat beneath her so that she wouldn’t get too messy???? Are you kidding me? I love them so much. 

There is always a certain satisfaction I get from finding paintings in which humans are so… human. Love, and looking for love I think are one of the purest parts of human beings. Not just romantically, but looking for little pieces of care in everything around us placed by someone along the way on their own journey. When I look at this painting, I immediately think: Is it better to live a loveless life, or die with a full heart? If I knew, for certain, I would never find love in the world again, would I live it? Would that even be living? 

Source:

• https://rauantiques.com/blogs/canvases-carats-and-curiosities/genre-paintings

When we think of Van Gogh, the first paintings that usually come to mind are The Starry Night, Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers, and Van Gogh self-portrait. Those paintings were good, sure. But Van Gogh himself didn’t consider them his best works. In fact, he thought of The Starry Night to be a failure. His masterpiece, in his opinion, was The Potato Eaters. 

Created in 1885, the potato eaters depicts a group of 5 lower-class citizens huddled together around a square table eating potatoes. Four of them were females, and one of them was male. The overall painting was very dark, the only source of light being the dim overhead lantern. Yet in that darkness, there is a certain highlight to the faces of these people, a sense of intimacy portrayed by the closeness of the subjects as well as the shadows they reside in. 

You may notice that this painting does look a little different from classic Van Gogh paintings. It doesn’t quite have his full style that he is known for, but still has that aspect of him that can be felt in the painting through its imperfections. At the time of its creation, Van Gogh had only recently begun to paint. He was still getting a feel for his art and style, and The Potato Eaters was one he trained a lot for. He did practice versions of the painting before he had done the final version, as well as a multitude of studies and practicing of various subjects (heads, hands, portraits of local farm laborers) in order to get it right. 

In a way, The Potato Eaters means so much to Van Gogh because it was a reflection on his own life. He wanted the painting to depict the hard parts of country life, making the peasants’ faces look coarse and bony, the hands hard from working. He wanted them to be a reflection of the very same potatoes that they had cultivated from the ground, which explains the earthy color scheme he used for the figures. All of this is to show the lives of poor people whose lives reflected his own– riddled with hard times, worn by the stress and harshness of the world, but those who find care and beauty in what they have created. 

Not so surprising, the painting wasn’t a fan favorite. Even his own friend and fellow painter, Anthon van Rappard told him, “You could do better than this.” And Rappard was right! Van Gogh did do better a couple years later. Albeit Van Gogh himself didn’t think so. He continued to believe that it was his best work, even after his releases of the iconic paintings we remembered today. Thankfully, the art community today largely regards The Potato Eaters as Van Gogh’s first masterpiece, which is good enough for everyone. 

Sources:

• https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/collection/s0005v1962
• https://www.vangoghgallery.com/painting/potatoindex.html
• https://www.vincentvangogh.org/potato-eaters.jsp
• https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/the-untold-story-of-the-potato-eaters-a-van-gogh-masterpiece-once-maligned-by-critics-180978833/

Hell was raining down all around. The cries and screams of the fearful overshadowed the sound of thudding bodies hitting the floor. A once magnificent city, now covered in ash and fire. Some looked on in fear. Others were running for their lives. Even moments away from death, there was but one that remained tall and strong and unmoved — a loyal soldier dedicated to his post.

Pompeii. You know them, you love them, they’re our favorite ashy city preserved under ash and lava. Most famously known for the casts of the people’s remains, the overall tragedy that had occurred had largely been overshadowed by somewhat morbid curiosity. When we really break down what happened however, it does become a little more melancholy. Around 2,000 people died in the city, with 16,000 people dying in other towns and villages in the nearby regions. Just seeing the cast of the bodies of young children curled up next to their mothers or fathers (or various relatives), weighs heavy in the heart and reminds of the real fear these people must’ve felt.

Now imagine you were there, present in the city as it erupted into flames and ash. It seems pretty obvious that the best course of action would be to flee, to run away and fight to survive. As the saying goes, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Well, it seems that was not the case for this soldier (even though he really should’ve). In the excavation process of Pompeii, a skeleton was found wearing a full set of armor right next to one of the gates leading into the city. Romanticists believe that this loyal soldier had been left behind in the terror and confusion occurring during the destruction of the city. With no order to quit his post, he remained faithful to his duty, even though he was staring death right in the face.

Enter Edward Poynter, 1865. The painting, named Faithful Unto Death, is directly inspired from that discovery of the armored skeleton. Depicted is a lone sentinel, staring up into the sky, watching and unwavering as people are falling all around him. The harsh red and orange tones that encompass the whole painting set in the unease and the anxious waiting for the fate of the soldier. The background contributes to the imagery of chaos, showing coins and valuables scattered on the ground, people trying desperately to save themselves and their possessions. Despite his fear that is painted on his face, the chaos of the people around him, the overwhelming urge to run that was coursing through his mind, his body and stance show the opposite. He stands tall and upright, arms poised and strongly clenched to his weapon. Although he could’ve abandoned his post, he decides to remain faithful to his duty just as he always had, even though it would be the last thing he would do.

This idea of absolute devotion to duty and honor was especially prized during Victorian imperialist Britain, making this painting one of the most famous Victorian paintings. From a military standpoint, it makes sense. You are expected to die if your commander tells you to. Your loyalty to the group and devotion to your job is what is expected, not your duty to your life. Honestly, it makes me respect the strong will of military members even more after seeing this painting, it takes nerves of steel to go toe-to-toe with death and be willing to lose.

Sources: 

• https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/faithful-unto-death-edward-john-poynter/UAEfV-4qLo6o7w?hl=en
• https://www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/artifact/faithful-unto-death
• https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/700929
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Pompeii
• https://www.history.com/topics/ancient-rome/pompeii
• http://pompeiisites.org/en/pompeii-map/analysis/the-casts/