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Fetal Venus & Her First Dove (sketch #1) - digital - 2024, DS. |

(Formerly Trans-D Digital Art, a blog investigating - & creating - artistic anomalies since 2011.)
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Fetal Venus & Her First Dove (sketch #1) - digital - 2024, DS. |
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Young Woman Playing a Violin, 1612, Orazio Gentileschi. Geometry: 2022, DS. |
- Introduction to the Wiki entry for Orazio Gentileschi, generally referred to as a Mannerist.
"Michelangelo once gave this advice to his pupil Marco da Siena, that one should always make the figure pyramidal, serpentine, and multiplied by one, two or three. And in this precept, it seems to me, is contained the secret of painting, for a figure has its highest grace and eloquence when it is seen in movement—what the painters call the Furia della figura. And to represent it thus there is no better form than that of a flame, because it is the most mobile of all forms and is conical. If a figure has this form it will be very beautiful...The painter should combine this pyramidal form with the Serpentinata, like the twisting of a live snake in motion, which is also the form of a waving flame... The figure should resemble the letter S... And this applies not only to the whole figure, but also to its parts...The figure will not appear graceful unless it has this serpentine form, as Michelangelo called it."
- Via this link (posted previously) regarding the Mannerist's S-curve or Figura serpentinata. The engraving inset right is the given example of this figure found at the beginning of the Wiki entry. The golden embellishment is my own. I first mentioned the Serpentinata in a footnote in Part III of the Bentvueghel series. I was confused about it then and am confused about it now. Was it or did it become a code word for the golden spiral?
(Note: I think the figura serpentinata directly above has another spiral going in the opposite direction. Sadly, I am not able to test this; my main computer is currently sitting in the trunk of my car which is currently sitting in the place it was towed yesterday morning after the accident. Physically I'm okay but the car isn't and this is seriously bad, as you might imagine. I will persevere with this post but it may take me longer than usual. Shit happens. Sorry, but I'm in need of a miracle.)
***
(Update 10/3/22: In my first note - above - I had just had a freak car accident - while blinded by the sun, I hit an aluminum streetlight in the center of the highway - and totaled my "mobile home."
But, that wasn't the end of the nightmare.
While at the towing facility - a facility I was assured was safe - someone broke into the trunk of my car and stole my relic of an Imac In other words, they stole all my original graphic files from the past 10 years or so... up to and including those of the present day, that is, my pentagonal spiral work.
As you might imagine, there have been many reasons that blogging has become next to impossible. Nonetheless, I have written a little of the text for this post. See below.)
***
It probably goes without saying that this blogger (moi) seemingly became addicted to the pentagonal golden spiral in some strange way over the past 6 months. Well, it would have to be strange, wouldn't it? As a geometrical figure, the golden spiral is merely the combination of a series of triangles and a series of circles in a specific proportion to one another, aligned in a specific way; what's to get addicted to? A mathematical proportion? Can one get really get addicted to a mathematical proportion?
Apparently.
I find I keep coming back to the blog to reassess the spirals I detected in the numerous examples of Renaissance and Baroque paintings I posted- well, that's my excuse anyway - but, using a different set of brain cells, I realized I possessed an ulterior motive. The addict's motive: pleasure... although (presumably) on a non-physical, abstract level.
So, we're back to the word "strange." How strange? Strange enough to compel this addict to draw spirals through 69 paintings while said addict's actual, physical life was on the fast track to Hell. (See introductory paragraphs).
But - despite present, perpetual, real-time preoccupations - I still have to wonder about the 33 European artists in whose paintings the spiral was found. It seems they lived during a period of (roughly) 200 years - predominantly during the Baroque period which, in turn, lay on the cusp of the Age Enlightenment (1680–1820)... that is, when scientific inquiry was in its infancy in the western world.Now, this specific period in history might be a factor in our inquiry... then again it may not; it depends upon how we classify these artists and their spiral paintings. It shouldn't be difficult; there are actually only 2 ways to go in this analysis: the artists in question either deliberately designed some paintings with the spiral in mind or they didn't.
Keep in mind that the spiral was also present in Baroque ornamentation (inset left) and possibly somewhere in Baroque music, too. So, were the artists, artisans, and musicians completely aware of its proportions and using it as a measure of perfection and beauty? Or, was the proliferation of golden spirals (at that time) an almost paranormal thing... a variety of subliminal meme... an unconsciously recognized icon which was possibly a presentiment on the part of an artistic community who were, without noticing it, heralding an evolutionary phase of a whole society?
And, this brings us to the Gentileschi spirals. Specifically, Orazio's, although we'll look at Artemisia's, too. But, Orazio's Young Woman Playing a Violin is similar - and as spectacular - as Judith Leyster's Jolly Toper especially because the spiral is so in-your-face; you can't possibly miss it. More to the point (literally) is that although the spiral I located is somewhat smaller than it could be, where it and the triangle falls on the bow is simply too remarkable to be, shall we say, a natural occurrence and this convinces me that Orazio, like Judith, must have been consciously aware of what he was doing. The spiral is too tight to be a happy accident. Moreover, Orazio has given us another example (below the jump) but, as I have no graphics program on this laptop, you're going to have to work this spiral out for yourself...
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A 'sotto bosco' with mushrooms, butterflies, a dragonfly, a snake and a lizard, 17th century, Otto Marseus van Schrieck |
Karel Dujardin (1626 - 1678)
I think Boy Blowing Soap Bubbles is possibly one of the most charming spiral designs I've used in this post and I've featured two other spiral placements below.
Beneath the Boy... is another Dujardin painting: Tobias and the Angel. I have two spirals for this image as well, but, as I think the one shown is the better one (and this post is fat with images), I'll place it aside.
Incidentally, in the large painting (seen inset above) - the Bentvueghel initiation - there are not one but two men, one on each side of the painting, who seem to resemble Dujardin's self-portrait... to which I have no explanation!
The two spirals (above) really need no explanation, but note the triangle in the one on the left; it connects the positions of the boy's hands with the top of his swirling mantle. It is a golden measurement.
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Tobias and the Angel, 17th century, Karel Dujardin. Geometry: 2022, DS. |
Above are two spiral placements in Dujardin's Hagar and Ishmael in the Wilderness, circa 1662. Take your pick! While I realize that some of you may feel that several spirals in one painting weakens my argument, the reality is that multiple spirals - while it is unlikely the artist planned them - are really artifacts of one spiral... proving that the "gold" in a painting really is distributed evenly throughout the image... as the pentagram is, in a sense, always a fractal of an entire golden field of pentagrams.
Below the jump: a few of Nicolas Régnier's amazing spiral paintings.
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Young man singing, 1622, Dirck Jaspersz van Baburen. Geometry: 2022, DS. |
(Well, cats and kitties, I'm back... bringing to you what is probably my last post featuring spirals in paintings from the long past. It was a wonderful rabbit-hole-journey, but I think I've finally come to the end of this particular tunnel... and that's the good news! There are a number of images and bits of info to document though, and experience tells me that it will take 2-3 parts to cover them all, but, I feel pretty confident about this material, so, well, I'm just aiming for a "job well done" and hoping some of you, at least, will find it worth the bumpy ride!)
Indeed, the so-called Bent became a bohemian epicenter of drunkenness and debauchery. Their presiding deity was Bacchus, inventor of wine and god of both liquid and artistic inspiration. The exhibition opens with several celebratory images of Bacchus, including the Caravaggesque “Bacchus and a Drinker” by Bartolomeo Manfredi and Dirck van Baburen’s “Pan,” almost certainly a self-portrait of the artist in the guise of this Greek deity famed for both his music and sexual prowess.
These works are accompanied by lively sketches of contemporary Bent artists, attributed to Leonaert Bramer and another — anonymous — Dutchman. Their subjects included Claude Lorrain, capacious wine glass in hand, and the Italian Caravaggesque painter Artemisia Gentileschi, dressed as a male and sporting a false mustache.
...Despite being rewarded with substantial sums for their work, both Guido Reni, who was addicted to gambling, and de Boulogne ended up in paupers’ graves. Giovanni Baglione, Lorrain and Manfredi all fathered illegitimate children, and Giovanni Lanfranco, Nicolas Poussin and van Laer were to die of syphilis. These artists spent their everyday lives in close proximity to the poor, the marginalized and the criminal, rubbing shoulders with them in cheap lodging-houses, taverns, dark drinking dives, gambling dens and prisons. This not only gave them an intimate knowledge of Rome’s underworld but, evidently, fostered in them a sense of fellow feeling, even respect, for its inhabitants."
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I suspect that, after all is said and done, to discover the actual source of all the mysterious "gold" present in Dutch Golden Age paintings, one needn't look any further than that underground society of bohemian artists living in Italy - those odd "birds of a feather" - the Bentvueghels. Back in the days of Lachtropius, when I first discovered mention of them, I intuited they might be an important clue - especially in light of their connections with Italy (possibly the "home" of the golden triangle spiral) (GTS) - but after taking some time to analyze a number of the Bentvueghel painters and their images, I now think its possible to draw some conclusions. (!)
At first glance, the Bentvueghels seem like no more than a rowdy bunch of a decadent, male artists who enjoyed an exclusive fraternity... more or less a parody of a masonic lodge (before the latter even formally existed). So, ones first impression is that it was a boy's club for men set in post-Renaissance Italy; doubtlessly a sunny artist's playground for those journeying from northern Europe.
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Initiation of a new Member of the Bentvueghels in Rome, 1660, Artist unknown. |
And, then, there are further complications. At least 6 of the artists left no surviving work, so, those artists are, for the most part, lost to us. Moreover, it seems, for whatever reason, the Bentvueghels themselves were not exactly "survivors", most dying in early middle age and a number - at least seven - dying much younger. A few made it past 60 and led fairly normal lives, but these, apparently, were the exception and not the rule...
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Saviour of the World - 16th century, Giampietrino. Geometry: 2022, DS. |
Still Life with Flowers, Nicolaes Lachtropius, 1667 (Geometry: DS, 2022) |
"In the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam, this flower still life is one of the paintings made by Nicolaes Lachtropius. This painter was active from 1656-1700 in Amsterdam, and Alphen aan den Rijn. The description says “On a marble plinth a vase with a bouquet of roses and poppies. Between the flowers some butterflies, on the [edge of the] plinth a snail.” This oil-painting is signed “N. Lachtropius Anº 1667.″
The snail is very naturalistically painted, and is a dextral specimen of Cepaea nemoralis (L., 1758)."
- Via this page from a wonderful blog by a Dutch Malacologist entitled "Hunting for Snails" which charts the extensive history of snail images going back as far as the Roman Empire. In other words, it is the PERFECT blog! It was also one of my early influences when charting the course of this "golden" journey (so, Bram, I thank you).
"According to the RKD he was a flower still life painter who followed Otto Marseus van Schrieck.. He worked in Amsterdam, The Hague and in Leiden and was last registered in Alphen aan den Rijn."
- The sum total of Wiki's entry for Nicoleas Lachtropius.
***
Well, three's the charm (as I've said in the past) and, between the time I uploaded the image (above) and finished this third attempt at the accompanying text, I made another possible discovery. That is, it seems that several Dutch artists from this period (17th century)- and each of them (historically) in contact with the other - were not using the Golden Rectangle Spiral (GRS) as I had first concluded, but were utilizing the Golden Triangle Spiral (GTS) which I had neglected to substantially test because, at the time, I did not have an accurate GTS template.* Afterwards, when I finally did, I did a quick analysis but, after much labor with the GRS, I almost didn't want to know. Anyway, the "big reveal" will take place later in the finished series. This post exists just to give you an idea of what I'm aiming for, and to show another way in which the GTS can be utilized. See the (Botticelli spiral). (Don't worry, there won't be a quiz.)
That being said, the image above has been modified from the original: I gave it more space at the top.** But, don't be alarmed. Below is the actual .jpg of Nicolaes Lachtropius's painting from the museum's collection. And, as you see, there is no deception; the GTS still stands and in a very similar relationship. In fact, it's a gem. It connects almost every major element of the painting - excluding one red poppy (possibly an imitation) and a yellow snail - and it even curls through the artist's decorative signature. And, yet, it is the presence of the lowly snail which - if my hypothesis is correct - gives the game away... and is the key to the artist's ulterior motive. Its ornate shell is, in fact, the symbol of the artist's modus operandi: "I have followed the spiral" or, what Albrecht Dürer referred to - two hundred years previously and in the "craftsmen language" - as the "Schneckenlinie" (the "snail-line"). (Via Dürer's Wiki entry.) (And, yes, I'll be discussing Dürer later, too.)
And, yet, it must be said, one might not find Lachtropius's design particularly harmonious or pleasing to the eye. Instead it might seem oddly unsettling, although intriguing (and somewhat kinetic)... but, if we can agree the artist did utilize the spiral, we might still question: why?
First of all, try not to see this as a contrived, mechanical design. It isn't. But, it might be in code... a code which impresses upon certain viewers - those in "the know" (specifically other artists) - the expertise of the artist in achieving an almost arcane and "sacred" harmony with a secret, embedded spiral.
Can we test this?