Everybody loves Art History (Part 1)

Most probably just don't know it.

That's why I've dedicated this particular entry to how a knowledge of Pop Culture can make Art History more fun (Not that it isn't already a party!). The next entry, the Part II to this entry, will give a few instances where Art images have been hidden right under our noses in Pop Culture.

But for now...take a step inside my mind and let me share with you a few parallels I drew.

- Lamby don't care

El Greco's Modena triptych (If it is, in fact, his...So many problems with attribution in art history, you know) is a really gorgeous amateur undertaking for the young Greek painter. I think his treatment of all of the panels in such vivid red and golds, as well as browns and neutrals, in an exceptionally interesting way of interpreting the Christ story. Usually, we see many more blues and luminous whites and greens to balance the red. But not here.

Adoration of the Shepherds, wing of the Modena Triptych. El Greco. 1568. Historical Museum of Crete.

As in typical Adoration of the Shepherds images, animals are included in the scene. It was weird enough that the cow is a strange, fiery red orange. Pan to the weird upside-down sheep in the crook of the middle shepherd's arm.

Yes, that is, my friends, reportedly a sheep.

...Or is it?

Albino honey badger photo lovingly borrowed from this excellent wild life photographer.

Looks like an upside-down albino honey badger to me.

- Mt. Sinai = Mordor?!

DUHDUHDUH.

Mount Sinai. El Greco. 1570. 41 x 47 cm. The Historical Museum of Crete.

Thank you, El Greco, for giving us our first glimpse of Mordor.

Makes me a little uncomfortable.

- I feel like somebody's watchin' me

When one of my classmates presented this beautiful painting by Lorenzo Lotto, St. Nicholas in Glory with St. John the Baptist and St. Lucy, I did the common Art History nerd visual perusal, admiring the bold colors, lofty theme, and reverent figures. But then my eyes stopped. And stared. And focused, eyes narrowed. Right there.

St. Nicholas in glory with St. John the Baptist and St. Lucy. Lorenzo Lotto. 1529. Chiesa dei Carmini, Vcnice.

Let me zoom for you.

It took me a minute to figure out why this curious arrangement bothered me...but when I finally realized it, it took all of my will power to keep from bursting out laughing in the middle of the presentation. I'm disruptive enough in that class with all of my frivolity and general silliness. But before I tell you why I was amused, let me tell you WHAT this little grouping actually is. It's St. Lucy's eyes (Whut? Does she not HAVE eyes in this painting?). Well, yes, astute reader. But, part of St. Lucy's deal was that when her would-be husband (had she not refused him for God) admired her eyes, she tore them out and gave them to him. Another version has guards forking out her eyes after her refused, would-be husband denounces her as Christian (he was pagan). Either way friends, ouch.

And I realize that that may have colored the hilarity I have in store for you a little darkly...My bad...So here, let me save you from the grossed-out depression that story could encourage - The reason that I laughed:

St. Lucy's eyes may actually be the origin of the Geico Money.

HUZZAH!

Isn't Art fun?

Returning the "loot"

Okay, I thought this was a really interesting story. The fact that it transpired at my university right under my nose makes it all the more pertinent, and hence I decided to share it with you all.

The Flagellation of Christ, attributed to the Master of the St. Goar Altar
German, fl. late 15th century
Panel from an altarpiece, 1480s
Oil on oak panel
Gift of Herman B. Wells, 85.59
Deaccessioned 2011

This Flagellation of Christ is thought to be the wing of a late 15th century German altarpiece, attributed to the Master of the St. Goar altar. It ended up here after former Indiana University President Herman B. Wells purchased it in good faith in London in 1967, then donated it to the museum in 1985. It had been on display here for many, many years and was a favorite for President Wells to visit as he grew older and more frail. IUAM Director Heidi Gealt believed that he identified with the Christian symbol of endurance.

However, in 2004 it was learned that this piece had been stolen from the Jadgschloss Grunewald, a small museum on the outskirts of Berlin, in the summer of 1945, which classifies it as World War II looted art. Along with 15 other paintings, this piece had been commendeared by Russian or British (likely British) soldiers from the Jadgschloss Grunewald, only to reappear on the London art market in 1966 with its past completely obscured. In 2006, after extensive research, the IUAM agreed to return the work. Now, 5 years later and as President Wells would have wanted had he known the truth, this piece is being officially returned to Berlin, its restitution ceremony taking place on November 21st.

You can visit IUAM's official provenance page for this piece HERE. Provenance is the history of ownership for a work of art. From this page you can access provenance research for other pieces in the IUAM collection.