When a boy being chased through present-day London seeks refuge in the National Gallery, a dog escapes from the painting of one Dutch master, and together they leap into the painting of another, where their adventures in 17th-century Delft are a prelude to returning to London and continuing the chase. Full color.
Not much is known about Johannes Vermeer's famous Little Street. The exact location of this Delft townscape has been occupying art historians, archaeologists and others for years. Did Vermeer picture his own house, or perhaps the view from it? Do the buildings he painted still exist? Or did he, at least in part, invent this wonderful, poignant composition? Art historian Frans Grijzenhout happened upon a source never before tapped for this purpose and was able to identify the site of this unique spot with its two adjacent passageways. This astonishing discovery sheds an entirely new light on Vermeer's life and work, and on the harsh world of the people who lived in that little street - the painter's kinsfolk - in the shadow of the Golden Age.
Art historians have long speculated on how Vermeer achieved the uncanny mixture of detached precision, compositional repose, and perspective accuracy that have drawn many to describe his work as "photographic." Indeed, many wonder if Vermeer employed a camera obscura, a primitive form of camera, to enhance his realistic effects? In Vermeer's Camera, Philip Steadman traces the development of the camera obscura--first described by Leonaro da Vinci--weighs the arguments that scholars have made for and against Vermeer's use of the camera, and offers a fascinating examination of the paintings themselves and what they alone can tell us of Vermeer's technique. Vermeer left no record of his method and indeed we know almost nothing of the man nor of how he worked. But by a close and illuminating study of the paintings Steadman concludes that Vermeer did use the camera obscura and shows how the inherent defects in this primitive device enabled Vermeer to achieve some remarkable effects--the slight blurring of image, the absence of sharp lines, the peculiar illusion not of closeness but of distance in the domestic scenes. Steadman argues that the use of the camera also explains some previously unexplainable qualities of Vermeer's art, such as the absence of conventional drawing, the pattern of underpainting in areas of pure tone, the pervasive feeling of reticence that suffuses his canvases, and the almost magical sense that Vermeer is painting not objects but light itself. Drawing on a wealth of Vermeer research and displaying an extraordinary sensitivity to the subtleties of the work itself, Philip Steadman offers in Vermeer's Camera a fresh perspective on some of the most enchanting paintings ever created.
The history of Chapel Street in Altrincham. This book tells the fascinating story of this remarkable little street, ‘the bravest little street in England’.
An interdisciplinary study of the central role that the neighborhood played in seventeenth-century Dutch painting and culture The neighborhood was a principal organizing structure of Dutch cities in the seventeenth century, and each had its own regulations, administrators, social networks, events, and diverse population of residents. Linda Stone-Ferrier argues that this sense of community contributed to the steady demand for pictures portraying aspects of this culture. These paintings, by such artists as Jan Steen and Pieter de Hooch, reinforced the role and values of the neighborhood. Through close readings of such works--by Steen and De Hooch and, among others, Gerrit Dou, Gabriel Metsu, Jacob van Ruisdael, and Johannes Vermeer--Stone-Ferrier deftly considers social history, urban studies, anthropology, and women's studies in this penetrating exploration. Her new interpretations of seventeenth-century Dutch painting across genres--scenes of streets, domesticity, professions, and festivity--challenge existing paradigms in Dutch art history.
Heda's Banquet Piece, Frans Hals' Willem Coymans, and Rembrandt's Lucretia. Paintings by these and other masters attracted the American collectors P. A. B. Widener, his son Joseph, and Andrew W. Mellon, whose bequests form the heart of the National Gallery's distinguished and remarkably cohesive collection of ninety-one Dutch paintings.
Mariet Westermann analyses Vermeer's work and his place in the history of art on the basis of Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum's four paintings, which span the range of his production from early to late, from cityscape to genre, from domestic chores to refined liv
He's like Banksy -- but not as big...They're Not Pets, Susan,' says a stern father who has just shot a bumblebee, its wings sparkling in the evening sunlight; a lone office worker, less than an inch high, looks out over the river in his lunch break, 'Dreaming of Packing it all In'; and a tiny couple share a 'Last Kiss' against the soft neon lights of the city at midnight. Mixing sharp humour with a delicious edge of melancholy, Little People in the City brings together the collected photographs of Slinkachu, a street-artist who for several years has been leaving little hand-painted people in the bustling city to fend for themselves, waiting to be discovered. . . 'Oddly enough, even when you know they are just hand-painted figurines, you can't help but feel that their plights convey something of our own fears about being lost and vulnerable in a big, bad city.' The Times
A visually stunning and seductive book that celebrates the mysterious and enigmatic world created by Vermeer in some of the best-loved and most characteristic works from late in his career.