Para los que les interesen las noticias sobre Sargent en Madrid, dejo aquí el artículo de Dale Fusch “Velázquez, Sargent Paintings Meet ‘Face to Face’ in Madrid” publicado hoy en el Boston Globe.
A su riesgo pueden usar el traductor en pantalla…siento no tener tiempo para hacerlo yo misma. Les iré trayendo otras obras de Sargent, mi pintor americano favorito. Lo mejor es que, aquellos que puedan, lo visitéis en persona en el Museo de El Prado. Estará en exhibición hasta el 30 de mayo. Con un poco de suerte quizás pueda pasearme por ahí!
A su riesgo pueden usar el traductor en pantalla…siento no tener tiempo para hacerlo yo misma. Les iré trayendo otras obras de Sargent, mi pintor americano favorito. Lo mejor es que, aquellos que puedan, lo visitéis en persona en el Museo de El Prado. Estará en exhibición hasta el 30 de mayo. Con un poco de suerte quizás pueda pasearme por ahí!
Velázquez, Sargent paintings meet ‘face to face’ in Madrid
By Dale Fuchs, Globe Correspondent March 16, 2010
MADRID — In 1656, Diego Velázquez painted a 5-year-old girl with silky blond hair and a self-assured gaze in a murky palace hall. That girl was Spain’s Princess Margarita, and the painting, “Las Meninas,’’ is the jewel of Madrid’s Prado Museum.
More than two centuries later, John Singer Sargent painted another little girl, 4-year-old Julia Boit, sprawling on a faded carpet holding her pink doll and staring confidently at the viewer. The enigmatic portrait, “The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit,’’ is one of the greatest treasures of
Boston’s Museum Fine Arts.
On the surface, the two girls have little in common: One wears a voluminous gown; the other sports a playtime pinafore. One is flanked by doting ladies in waiting, the other accompanied by her three older sisters, daughters of a lawyer-turned-painter from Boston.
But Margarita and Julia met in the imagination of Sargent, who studied “Las Meninas’’ closely during visits to the Prado in 1879 and was inspired to imbue his own work with echoes of the Velázquez masterpiece. Now these two girls are meeting for the first time, “face to face,’’ as Prado director Miguel Zugaza puts it.
Sargent’s iconic painting traveled to Spain last week and now hangs just a few feet from the Velázquez, in the center of the Prado’s main hall, where it is on view until May 30 as part of the museum’s “Invited Work’’ series.
“It’s a favorite in Boston, but here in Madrid it’s going to be seen by hundreds of thousands of people who never come to Boston and some who might come as a result of seeing this picture,’’ said Malcolm Rogers, the MFA director who traveled to Spain to mark the occasion and, standing in the Prado gallery, was admiring the Sargent through a crowd of tourists.
In 1879, Sargent was himself among the throng visiting the museum. He traveled extensively through Spain, and he made repeated visits to the Prado to study Velázquez works and copy “Las Meninas.’’ Now on display next to his painting, a Prado visitor record book shows three Sargent signatures. (In two, he oddly uses the name Gustavo instead of John.)
“Sargent would have been thrilled to see the painting in this museum,’’ said Erica E. Hirshler, senior curator of American paintings at the MFA and author of the recent book “Sargent’s Daughters: The Biography of a Painting,’’ which tells the story of this work. “People associate it so much with Boston, because it has been at the MFA for such a long time, but it is really a world-class, cosmopolitan painting.’’
Looking at the two portraits, Hirshler pointed to similarities in composition, light, and dynamics. She beamed as she described subtle parallels: how Julia Boit’s pose is a mirror image of Princess Margarita’s and how the glowing mirror over the Boits’s fireplace in their Paris apartment recalls the reflected image of the Spanish king and queen. Both paintings, she noted, convey a snapshot sense of arrested motion, frozen moments in the play of the Boit girls and the courtly dynamics that swirled around the princess.
“This is once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the two together,’’ Hirshler said.
Indeed, the Prado does not loan “Las Meninas,’’ the centerpiece of its collection, and the Sargent work has rarely traveled since the Boit daughters donated it to the MFA in 1919. When it returns from Spain, “The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit’’ will take its place of honor in the MFA’s soon-to-open Art of the Americas Wing, said Rogers, alongside the two blue-and-white Japanese vases that are depicted in the painting dwarfing Julia and her sisters.
Sargent, of course, was not the only one of his generation to seek inspiration from “Las Meninas.’’ A wave of late 19th-century and early 20th-century artists, including Manet, Degas, Picasso, and Bacon made pilgrimages to the Prado to study Velázquez’s technique, and the Spanish master touches many of their works.
But Prado curators consider Sargent’s painting especially intriguing. “Of all the tributes to ‘Las Meninas,’ Sargent’s is the most emotional,’’ said Zugaza, the Prado director. “He takes the structure of ‘Las Meninas’ and transforms it into a modern painting. It’s not so much a tribute as a dialogue between two artists.’’
Zugaza said he suggested Sargent’s return to Madrid when he learned that the painting was about to move for the MFA’s expansion. “But the one who really wanted to come was Sargent himself,’’ he quipped.
Boit commissioned the portrait of his daughters in 1882, three years after Sargent copied “Las Meninas.’’ The two men belonged to a circle of expatriate American artists and writers, including novelist Henry James, who flocked to 1870s Paris. According to Hirshler, they remained friends long after Sargent completed the portrait, suggesting Boit was not fazed by the work’s unorthodox composition, even though critics at the time considered it eccentric.
“Both Sargent and Velázquez had patrons who were lovers of art,’’ said Javier Barón, the Prado’s chief curator of 19th-century painting.
“Boit was a painter himself, and Philip IV was the best collector of his time. This gave both artists the freedom to resolve their portraits in an unconventional way."
Today, Sargent is praised for expertly combining lessons from the past with what Hirshler terms “the nervous spirit of his own age.’’
But can Julia Boit and her sisters hold their own in the presence of the Velázquez masterpiece, one of the most revered pictures in the world?
“I was worried about it,’’ admitted Hirshler, shuttling her gaze between the assertive, round-checked girls with satisfaction. “But the Sargent is a very strong picture in and of itself. It has a soul of its own.’’
On the surface, the two girls have little in common: One wears a voluminous gown; the other sports a playtime pinafore. One is flanked by doting ladies in waiting, the other accompanied by her three older sisters, daughters of a lawyer-turned-painter from Boston.
But Margarita and Julia met in the imagination of Sargent, who studied “Las Meninas’’ closely during visits to the Prado in 1879 and was inspired to imbue his own work with echoes of the Velázquez masterpiece. Now these two girls are meeting for the first time, “face to face,’’ as Prado director Miguel Zugaza puts it.
Sargent’s iconic painting traveled to Spain last week and now hangs just a few feet from the Velázquez, in the center of the Prado’s main hall, where it is on view until May 30 as part of the museum’s “Invited Work’’ series.
“It’s a favorite in Boston, but here in Madrid it’s going to be seen by hundreds of thousands of people who never come to Boston and some who might come as a result of seeing this picture,’’ said Malcolm Rogers, the MFA director who traveled to Spain to mark the occasion and, standing in the Prado gallery, was admiring the Sargent through a crowd of tourists.
In 1879, Sargent was himself among the throng visiting the museum. He traveled extensively through Spain, and he made repeated visits to the Prado to study Velázquez works and copy “Las Meninas.’’ Now on display next to his painting, a Prado visitor record book shows three Sargent signatures. (In two, he oddly uses the name Gustavo instead of John.)
“Sargent would have been thrilled to see the painting in this museum,’’ said Erica E. Hirshler, senior curator of American paintings at the MFA and author of the recent book “Sargent’s Daughters: The Biography of a Painting,’’ which tells the story of this work. “People associate it so much with Boston, because it has been at the MFA for such a long time, but it is really a world-class, cosmopolitan painting.’’
Looking at the two portraits, Hirshler pointed to similarities in composition, light, and dynamics. She beamed as she described subtle parallels: how Julia Boit’s pose is a mirror image of Princess Margarita’s and how the glowing mirror over the Boits’s fireplace in their Paris apartment recalls the reflected image of the Spanish king and queen. Both paintings, she noted, convey a snapshot sense of arrested motion, frozen moments in the play of the Boit girls and the courtly dynamics that swirled around the princess.
“This is once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the two together,’’ Hirshler said.
Indeed, the Prado does not loan “Las Meninas,’’ the centerpiece of its collection, and the Sargent work has rarely traveled since the Boit daughters donated it to the MFA in 1919. When it returns from Spain, “The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit’’ will take its place of honor in the MFA’s soon-to-open Art of the Americas Wing, said Rogers, alongside the two blue-and-white Japanese vases that are depicted in the painting dwarfing Julia and her sisters.
Sargent, of course, was not the only one of his generation to seek inspiration from “Las Meninas.’’ A wave of late 19th-century and early 20th-century artists, including Manet, Degas, Picasso, and Bacon made pilgrimages to the Prado to study Velázquez’s technique, and the Spanish master touches many of their works.
But Prado curators consider Sargent’s painting especially intriguing. “Of all the tributes to ‘Las Meninas,’ Sargent’s is the most emotional,’’ said Zugaza, the Prado director. “He takes the structure of ‘Las Meninas’ and transforms it into a modern painting. It’s not so much a tribute as a dialogue between two artists.’’
Zugaza said he suggested Sargent’s return to Madrid when he learned that the painting was about to move for the MFA’s expansion. “But the one who really wanted to come was Sargent himself,’’ he quipped.
Boit commissioned the portrait of his daughters in 1882, three years after Sargent copied “Las Meninas.’’ The two men belonged to a circle of expatriate American artists and writers, including novelist Henry James, who flocked to 1870s Paris. According to Hirshler, they remained friends long after Sargent completed the portrait, suggesting Boit was not fazed by the work’s unorthodox composition, even though critics at the time considered it eccentric.
“Both Sargent and Velázquez had patrons who were lovers of art,’’ said Javier Barón, the Prado’s chief curator of 19th-century painting.
“Boit was a painter himself, and Philip IV was the best collector of his time. This gave both artists the freedom to resolve their portraits in an unconventional way."
Today, Sargent is praised for expertly combining lessons from the past with what Hirshler terms “the nervous spirit of his own age.’’
But can Julia Boit and her sisters hold their own in the presence of the Velázquez masterpiece, one of the most revered pictures in the world?
“I was worried about it,’’ admitted Hirshler, shuttling her gaze between the assertive, round-checked girls with satisfaction. “But the Sargent is a very strong picture in and of itself. It has a soul of its own.’’
© Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company
http://www.boston.com/news/local/massachusetts/articles/2010/03/16/velzquez_sargent_paintings_meet_face_to_face_in_madrid/?p1=Well_MostPop_Emailed3
35 comentarios:
Has visto los murales de la Boston Public Library ?
Creia que John Singer Sargent era británico. ya que he visto algunas pinturas por aquí, en especial el de Lady Agnew of Lochnaw en La National Gallery of Scotland.
Está enterrado en una ciudad inglesa en el Condado de Surrey, a unas 25 millas al suroeste de Londres.
De vue lta, Miguel? Espero que el tiempo os haya recibido amablemente. Boston, cuatro días sin parar de llover; inundaciones en los sótanos (los que hemos tenido suerte).
Miguel, gracias por el enlace, magnífico, como todo lo que traes aquí. Y no le digas a los de Boston que Sargent es inglés! Aunque a EE.UU. parece que sólo hizo viajes ocasionales relacionados con su arte. Eso sí, de padres americanos…
Innegable que creció rodeado de Prerrafaelitas.
La Biblioteca Pública de Boston es un íntimo museo. Es mi parada oficial para los amigos que pasan por aquí. Algo digo de esto en mi entrada sobre la poeta malagueña Maria Victoria Atencia. La biblioteca fue el lugar preferido de su visita
http://chiquitin52.blogspot.com/2008/03/maria-victoria-atencia-en-boston.html
Si, ya veo por las fotos en The Globe.
De vuelta a casa pasamos por toda la costa de Portugal, Lisboa quedaba un poco lejos pero claramente reconocible, y el Douro en Porto teñia la desembocadura de chocolate.
Y en Canarias.... pensando en pasar todo el invierno.
Excelente foto la del Boston Globe. Quién es quién. Me refiero a los dos señores.
Chiqui, espero no alarmarte, prefiero la de Sargent.
Miguel, volviendo al tiempo, hoy hace un día glorioso en Boston. Toda la familia ha salido al sol del porche trasero, hasta la gata. No se te escapa nada, no se te puede sorprender…
Ha sido un invierno malo para muchos e infernal para otros tantos. No creo que todo se le pueda atribuir al cambio climático. Veremos si mejora.
Tadeusz. Me alegra lo que dices. El cuadro de Las Meninas me he acostumbrado a verlo como algo ‘genial’ pero me horrorizaría quedar atrapada en él. El de Sargent invita a entrar y sentarte en la soleada alfombra, o participar de la conversación de las niñas del jarrón…
Lo de ‘quién es quién’ es una broma, no?
Me encantan todas (y las pinturas también).
Por más que lo miro, la pintura de Velázquez me arrebata. No así la de Sargent por más que me parezca bonita. Seguiré mirando.
Un día en Málaga, con visita al museo Picasso: qué bonito el retrato de mujer con gato.
Qué bien huele el aire de Málaga que anuncia la primavera.
Hombre, Coco, te dejaron tus chicas salir a dar un paseito? Te tienen muy mimado. No debes decir (en público) que te gustan todas.
Gracias por pasarte por aquí, a ver si lo haces con mas frecuencia.
Elvi, en Malaga? Qué hacías allí…si se puede saber?
Me parece genial ver las huellas de un cuadro en otro totalmente distinto.Oir a Mozart en Beethoven,recordar a Plauto en Molière,etc.
Me pregunto:
’’ A wave of late 19th-century and early 20th-century artists, including Manet, Degas, Picasso, and Bacon made pilgrimages to the Prado to study Velázquez’s TECHNIQUE, and the Spanish master touches many of their works.
Técnicamente hablando; cuál es la "técnica" de Velázquez?
A pesar de lo kitsch es bastante apabullante, comprendo que sea tu favorito. Yo siento no tener tiempo, intento pasarlo en el taller...
Amalia, mis recuerdos - de bachiller - de Historia del Arte sólo alcanzan a aquello de la perspectiva aérea, como algo nuevo. Nos daban como ejemplo 'la vieja que fríe los huevos'. Mucho se ha escrito sobre su técnica y yo no he leído nada. Admiro su obra pero no me conmueve. Comprendo que sea imprescindible - como instrumento de aprendizaje - para otros pintores. Velazquez, probablemente, nació con ‘su técnica’ bajo el brazo, aunque algo debió aprender de su maestro y suegro, Pacheco. Tenemos pintores en este blog. Sería interesante que te contestaran ellos, desde su punto de vista y no desde lo ya escrito. Leí por ahí que el pintor que más aprendió de Velazquez fue Bacon (¿?)
He encontrado en Google un artículo básico ( para ti) y que se lee fácilmente, una cualidad que aprecio en la lectura cada vez más.
http://www.elmundo.es/magazine/num173/textos/meni.html
Manuel, Manuel…Sargent Kitsh?, y por eso me gusta a mí…?
Siempre he pensado que tendría que haber nacido en el XIX . Estéticamente me siento atraída por finales de ese siglo. Parte de la obra de Sargent que me atrae es la de los interiores y esas mujeres tan graciosamente vestidas, sí , entre elegantes y cursiles!
El diseño, en general, me interesa. El desnudo? Me inclino por el realismo.
http://www.csfineartscenter.org/uploaded_images/Sargent-782151.jpg
Chiqui no sale el enlace, tal vez no esté completo?
No entendí lo de los signos de interrogación a propósito de Bacon
Amalia, la interrogación no tiene sentido en mi comentario, en todo caso tendría que haber usado la exclamación .Lo que hace Bacon es decontruir , transformar, desfigurar…todo lo opuesto a Velázquez. Claro que aprendió de él, qué pintor con talento no lo haría?.
No sigo por que acabaré diciendo burradas…No las podría justificar, se quedarían en burradas. Félix Azúa sí se puede permitir ese lujo. Leíste aquel divertido ensayo sobre Bacon y Velázquez? Pasará a la historia del arte del ensayo.
Ando dividida entre la cocina y el ordenador. Tengo unos queridos amigos a cenar y he encontrado bacalao seco salado, muy raro por aquí. Me vino al recuerdo la ensalada de mi abuela . Lo he tenido en agua para desalarlo y ahora lo asaré (churruscadito) a la parrilla. Se corta en tiras y se añade a una ensalada de patatas cocidas, cebolla, naranjas y aceitunas…aceite y demás al gusto.
Quedan invitados!
Para mí los dos Inocencios (Velázquez y Bacon)destilan el mismo horror. Uno desde su mirada, el otro desde las tripas.
Leí lo de Azúa, pero no me acuerdo.Voy a buscarlo y refrescar mi memoria.
P.S.: Qué vieja friendo huevos?
Hola, de nuevo
Hola !!! Hola!!
Wow! Miguel, no me digas que ‘la vieja que fríe huevos’ la tenéis en Scotland?
No sólo eso ha sido una sorpresa sino que veo que Lady Agnew, a quien incluyo en mi entrada, también anda por ahí. Buen gusto el de los escoceses. Gracias por tan oportuna y sorprendente intervención…! Te mando un beso, que lo tienes más que merecido.
http://www.nationalgalleries.org/index.php/collection/online_az/4:322/results/0/5396/
Esta si!
http://tinyurl.com/yd2utvy
Amalia, yo te apostaría ( si tuviéramos tiempo) que si buscáramos a los príncipes de la iglesia en la historia de la pintura, la comparación que acabas de hacer entre Velázquez y Bacon se daría en la mayoría de ellos. Bacon parte de Velázquez para expresar el horror que siente por la institución misma. No crees? De otra forma no sería tan interesante para mi.
http://tinyurl.com/ya5nvjz
(el enlace de ‘irreprochable’ . Yo si lo puedo abrir!)
Sutil, sobrio. Nada Kitsh!
Amalia, pincha en el enlace de Miguel. Ahora recordaras esos huevos tan ricos, verdad? Si no fuera porque la vieja tiene las manos tan sucias, me los comería!
No conocía ese cuadro,me pareció genial. En el texto que lo describe habla algo de la "técnica", me aclara bastante.
Gracias Miguel
Me muero de sueeeeeño. Pero de eso no tienen la culpa ni Velázquez ni ustedes, que conste.
Felices sueños, pues.
Chiqui estaras siguiendo el voto de los democratas al health bill. Parece que hay esperanzas. Keep your fingers crossed.
http://www.businessweek.com/news/2010-03-21/democrats-say-they-have-votes-to-pass-health-bill-correct-.html
Hola. Tengo amigos en casa y, disfrutando de ellos!.
Tex, Parece que si!
Besos a todos...
Por si a alguien le interesa, hay un libro maravilloso sobre lo que aprendieron los artistas norteamerccanos (entre ellos Sargent) de los pintores españoles: Elizabeth Boone, España, American Artists and the Spanish Experience. Fue objeto de una exhibición hace un par de años, en en el museo de New Britain, Connecticut.
http://www.tfaoi.com/newsm1/n1m46.htm
Allí se recoge la reacción de Sargent y de otros pintores americanos, a Velázquez, Murillo, Zurbarán, etc.
Gracias Adolfo. Las biblioteca lo tendrán...
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