June 24, 2014 | In the five short years since its creation, Masterpiece has established itself as London's most prominent and anticipated fair. Its intent is to present the highest caliber art and antiques alongside a wide range of similarly distinguished luxury goods from cars to wine. However, because it was created by leading dealers from the former Grosvenor House fair, Masterpiece retains decorative arts firmly at its core.
Engraved map of London by Richard Bennett, London, 1760, mounted as a fan on bone sticks with carved ivory end-pieces. Daniel Crouch Rare Books, London.
This year's highlights veer toward unapologetic opulence. Ronald Philips features an astounding Charles II cream-japanned cabinet on a silvered stand; Chiale Antiquariato, a massive carved and inlaid table of 1905, which was made in Turin based on a design by Edoardo Smeriglio; and Anthony Outred, an entire suite of fanciful grotto furniture carved in shell forms made in Venice in the second half of the nineteen…» More
June 24, 2014 | Recently, an ill-considered op-ed in the New York Times, written by David Masello, took issue with the Frick Collection's plans for an ambitious expansion. Yes, there is something formulaic, almost knee-jerk in the way in which, these days, every museum seems to feel that it must expand and debase itself to embrace bigger audiences. But there is something equally formulaic, almost knee-jerk, in supposing that the Frick Collection is animated by no wiser impulse than simply to follow the trend, that it is "doing" a MoMA or a Whitney. If ever a museum were justified in expanding, it is the Frick, especially in expanding exactly as the Frick intends to do.
Mr. Masello's argument can be reduced to the fear that this expansion will destroy the sense one now has, in visiting the Frick, of entering one of the great private residences of the Gilded Age, that the expansion will ruin this effect through the introduction of stridently modern forms like those of Renzo Piano at the Morg…» More
June 12, 2014 | One of my earliest memories is from half a century ago and relates to something that I saw, and that astonished me, in the darkened halls of the American Museum of Natural History. I was four and my nanny was taking me-not for the first time, as I clearly recall-to the museum, a few blocks from where I grew up. On one of the upper floors, where you now see the dinosaurs, the museum displayed its gemstone and mineral collection, which was moved, about a decade later, to the ground floor. It must have been a weekday, because there was no one else in the cavernous hall. Suddenly I saw a man in a motorized wheel-chair glide by, "swifter than thought," along the terrazzo floors and disappear out a distant exit as quickly as he had come. Back then, unlike today, motorized wheelchairs were so rare that I would almost imagine they didn't exist, except that I saw one with my own eyes and have replayed the memory in my mind many times since.
Above: Mammal Hall, 1900. AMNH Digital Specia…» More
May 22, 2014 | Go to the Metropolitan and meet the Altamiras, one of the richest and most illustrious families of 18th Century Spain. Four of Goya's portraits of the family are assembled in one place for the first time in a century and a half. So illustrious was the family that the father, Vicente Joaquín Osorio Moscoso y Guzmán, 12th Conde de Altamira, was said to have more titles to his name than any Spaniard of his time. And though the family would ultimately lose most of its wealth in the catastrophic upheaval that followed Napoleon's invasion of Spain in 1808, at the time when Goya painted these four sitters, between 1786 and 1788, they seemed positively pink with prosperity.
Frequent visitors to the Met will already be familiar with two of these works, the Lehman Collection's pearline portrait of Maria Ignacia Álvarez de Toledo, Condesa de Altamira, holding an infant girl in her arms, and the portrait of Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuñiga, Maria's younger son. The latter, a boy in a br…» More
May 21, 2014 | Although the earliest surviving illustrated botanical manuscript dates from AD 512-the Vienna Dioscurides, a copy of the important medical treatise by the first-century Greek physician and herbalist Pedanius Dioscurides-botanical illustration as a distinctive artistic genre developed in the fifteenth century with the rise of illustrated herbals, manuscripts explaining the medicinal and culinary uses of plants and flowers. After all, in an age living close to the ground, it was crucial to distinguish between a plant that could induce sleep and one that would induce it forever. The introduction of exotic new plants from Asia and the Americas during the sixteenth century prompted continuous publication of accurate pictures to help botanists study, name, and classify the new discoveries. Continued refinements to reproductive engraving and lithographic techniques furthered these publications during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Most techniques produced black-and-white…» More
by Émile Jacques Ruhlmann (1879-1933), 1926. Macassar ebony, amaranth, and ivory. Metropolitan Museum of Art. By Cynthia Drayton» View All