I found The Renaissance Nude exhibition
at the Royal Academy a rather disjointed show. For a start, the show appears to
have lost a large number of the pictures shown in Los Angeles, the other place
where this exhibition was first shown (it appears to have been curated by Thomas
Kren, senior curator emeritus of the Getty Museum, Los Angeles). I counted ten
paintings that were exhibited in Los Angeles only, plus at least four works in
the catalogue listed as exhibits but fascinatingly not shown in either
location. Whatever the inconsistency about what is shown in each location, this
rather small show (111 works in the catalogue, just four rooms at the Royal Academy),
does not appear to explain itself very well. The claim of the catalogue is
“this exhibition traces the beginnings of the naturalistic nude in European
art. Although the nude continued to develop in novel and intriguing ways after
1530, it had also assumed an integral role within European art by then,
offering a suitable end point for our narrative.”
Yet, as far as I can see, the
exhibition doesn’t seem to be very interested in tracing the beginnings of the “naturalistic
nude”, nor its end. If there are beginnings, what came before? There are
representations of nudes in art going right back to post-Classical times. There
are plenty of examples of nudity in medieval European art. How then was the
Renaissance different? We are not told. Nor are we told what came after. There
was the Counter-Reformation, and that changed attitudes to nudity in art. But none
of this is visible in the exhibition itself.
Instead, the exhibition has some themes
of its own, not always clearly explained but certainly present from the choice
of objects displayed. Four themes are identified in the leaflet given to
everyone visiting the exhibition:
The Nude and Christian Art – exemplified
by Adam and Eve;
Humanism and the Expansion of Secular
Themes – the use of Classical mythology and themes in Renaissance art;
Artistic Theory and Practice – how life
drawing became standard practice during the Renaissance;
Personalising the Nude – which is
exemplified by Isabella d’Este and the decoration of her studiolo.
The exhibition also raises some themes
of its own, among which I noted:
- Religious art used as an opportunity for sexual themes, including St Sebastian and representations of Bathsheba. There are no fewer than six representation of St Sebastian in this exhibition. Several representations of gruesome torture on naked bodies: St Barbara about to have her breast removed, and many naked males impaled on thorns. There are also two representations of Hercules and Antaeus, perhaps implying that males in naked combat is sexual in origin.
- The bathhouse as a place where heterosexual and homosexual physical passion was revealed.
- The northern and southern tradition of representing
the nude (described by Kenneth Clark in his The Nude).
- When and why did the Renaissance switch from
condemnatory depictions of nudity to celebrations of it?
- If Bathsheba, why not other Biblical episodes used
as an excuse to depict the female nude, such as Susanna and the Elders?
- The changing attitudes to representing the
genitals. In a few works here, the penis is displayed, but in many of them, the
penis is masked. Similarly for the female genitalia. Different attitudes seem
to co-exist at the same time, for example, Michelangelo’s nudes in the Sistine
Chapel reveal their genitals, while Durer’s Adam and Eve have their genitals
discreetly masked Why the fluctuation in attitudes to displaying the
genitalia?
- Titian’s painting of sacred and profane love has the sacred woman naked and the profane woman clothed, while in this exhibition, Dirk Bouts’ The Way to Paradise and The Fall of the Damned has the righteous clothed, and the damned naked. Why the contrast?
- Why the Renaissance often depicted wildly
over-muscular males, who look as if they have been fed on steroids since the
age of 16, and yet these same males always have a miniscule penis? There is,
remarkably, one remarkable self-portrait by Durer in the catalogue (not in the
exhibition) that depicts him with a normal-sized penis. The Renaissance seems
to have switched from a stylized vision of puny males and females to an
idealized image of the male but remaining stylized in certain ways.
Hence, I would rename this show “some
miscellaneous themes that interest the curators when studying images of the
nude in the Renaissance”. It assumes, rather than presents, the major themes
critics have discussed for many years over nudity in the Renaissance.
Essentially, that theme is how and why Michelangelo’s David (Florence) is so
different to Van Eyck’s Eve (Ghent).
Since the exhibition itself tells us so
little, it makes sense (if you have the money) to turn to the catalogue. But
the catalogue does not seem written to make things much clearer; it’s certainly
not intended as an introduction to the Renaissance nude. The
catalogue is one of those sit-on-the-fence kind of works, that tries very hard
to make sure it never says any one thing too firmly. The catalogue takes for
granted, for example, that we all know “the familiar humanist notion of the
triumphant, classicizing male nude”, but then really muddies the water by
continuing to state, of this notion, that “it aligns with, but also troubles a
larger fabric of western European Christian tradition”. Who is this
humanist notion familiar with, apart from the authors? It then points out,
usefully, that the Renaissance tradition of the “idealized male form became an
expression of inner virtue and even of cosmic order”. These words appear almost
alongside the full-page photograph of Michelangelo’s David, so it’s difficult
not to agree with this statement. Yet Kenneth Clark is castigated
for “normalizing the male nude in the early Renaissance, neglecting the rise of
the female nude in fifteenth-century northern Europe”. Is that Mr
Clark’s limitation, or is it borne out by the art? This text appears alongside
van Eyck’s depiction of Eve from the Ghent altarpiece, another locus classicus
of the nude in Renaissance art. But it is clear from this image, compared with
Michelangelo David, that the idealization of the female was towards fertility, as
can be seen by the enlarged belly that is very common in northern depictions of
the naked female. Certainly these depictions are very different to the Italian,
classical male nude, which suggests, yes, inner virtue.
There is one picture in the show that
shows the classical female nude: the amazing Titian Venus Anadyomene,
of around 1520, which has no counterpart in northern Renaissance art. This painting dominates the whole exhibition, and not surprisingly is used for the cover of the catalogue. The authors of the catalogue, however, nowhere state why this image be so overwhelming, compared with the rest of the show. Perhaps they don't want to admit that for many people, classical nudes are what comprises fine art, and this is one of the best.
Incidentally, who is the catalogue
written for? It appears as an academic work, with citations throughout – yet there
is a reference to Kenneth Clark on page one, with his famous distinction of
“naked” and “nude”, not explained, and without any citation. Unless you were
already familiar with art history works on the subject, you would not know from
this catalogue introduction that Kenneth Clark had written a book called The
Nude.
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