The first time I encountered images of Romina Ressia's works, I thought they were paintings, but Romina Ressia is a photographer. It was the abstract dark backgrounds, the otherworldly air and appearance of the models, that made me think that I had discovered another realist painter, one that specialized in portraits. What is more, the images appeared as realistic depictions, but with the additional quality of that step back from reality that paintings have.

Even if these were paintings, though, they wouldn't be just portraits. They are peculiar, playful, somehow sarcastic, due to the anachronisms, the juxtapositions of elements of different eras. There are models dressed in period costumes holding or using modern-day props that do not even make sense narratively. Props such as an inflated bubble gum, a Donald Duck band-aid, a toy or a snack clash with the gravity displayed by the costume, the background and the expression of the models. Otherwise, an oxygen mask or a racket held in front of the face inspire a disconcerting feeling. In the series Renaissance Brushstrokes, part of the view is blocked by colorful brushstrokes. The model appears enclosed behind the brushstroke, as if, one could argue, she is trapped by colour, or by the act of painting.

The photographer persistently flirts with the representational painting tradition of the past, particularly that of the Renaissance, of the 16th and 17th centuries in the series New Vanitas, of Rococo in the series Portraits in the 18th century, even with that of the Middle Ages when she portrays her Madonnas using gold leaf on photograph, working, thus, in mixed media as well. There are many more art historical references. In New Chiaroscuro, the Portrait of a Ginger Girl appears Rembrandtesque and Hands could have been a painting by Caravaggio. The Ophelia series alludes to the theme of the homonymous painting by the Pre-Raphaelite artist Sir John Everett Millais and, elsewhere, Mona Lisa is referenced several times.

When someone browses through her pictures, though, and after a while begins to think that they have figured out what the artist is all about, they suddenly come across works that subvert this belief. There are some that picture solely objects, such as the ones in the series FISHES & FLOWERS, or others that are characterized by a completely different aesthetic, such as those in the series NOT ABOUT DEATH and What do you hIde?. Romina Ressia is a versatile and promising artist. In her work, the vast notions of art, death, identity, the artist, the past and everything in between are constantly contemplated and revisited.

These are Romina Ressia's answers to my standard questionnaire:

Who is your favorite artist?
I have a lot but to mention only two, I would say Da Vinci & Rembrandt.

Which is your favorite artwork?
In my list of favorites are Anatomy Lesson (Rembrandt), Self Portrait (Rembrandt), La Gioconda (Da Vinci), Las Meninas (Velazquez) & The Liberty leading the people (Delacroix), just to mention a few. I love contemporary art too.

Describe your art in three words. Current but also anachronic & humorous.

What inspires you?
Contemporary society.

Is beauty important in art? Not at all. Art is no more for the eyes but for the mind. It can be beautiful or not.

It is already obvious from her work, but is verified by her answers, that the artist is focused and knows what she wants. Focus is of the uttermost importance not only in art but in life as well. Talent is not enough for an artist. As Ms Ressia is both talented and focused, I am sure that there is plenty to see from her in the future.

Romina Ressia, Woman playing Tennis, Image by Romina Ressia http://www.rominaressiaph.com/5589165/

Let's not keep silent about beauty in art. Stefaan Eyckmans, a contemporary Belgian figurative painter, is a case in point. He is a Flemish realist still life painter that does justice to the painting tradition of his ancestors. Mr Eyckmans kindly answered some questions that I consider fundamental in establishing an artist's approach towards art. As his favourite artist Mr Eyckmans chose none other that Jan Van Eyck, citing also Johannes Vermeer, Giorgio Morandi, Jan Davidszoon de Heem and Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin. When asked which one art work he would choose as his favourite, Mr Eyckmans answered that it would be the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb by Hubert and Jan Van Eyck, while stating that other choices would be the Portrait of Doge Leonardo Loredan by Giovanni Bellini and still lifes by Chardin and others.

When asked what inspires him, Mr Eyckmans responded that he is mostly inspired by 'the light that travels through the composition, the influence the objects have on each other due to this light, the reflections, the soft and colourful shades due to the diffuse daylight'. Finally, the painter was asked if beauty is important in art. Honestly, I chose questions that even if answered with one word, would have a powerful effect. I wanted to make it easier for the artist. But Mr Eyckmans produced quite an eloquent answer:

'Beauty is very important to me and to my art. I refuse to accept the contemporary adagio of the intellectualization of art, where beauty is not important anymore but other things like shocking, being original and conceptual, etc. ... A painting can provoke many emotions but we appreciate it through sensory perception. So beauty relates to ugliness like other sensory perceptions: silence/noise, pleasure/pain, etc. It's the same with music: I refuse to listen to false tones just because the critics tell me there's a reason and story behind that, it hurts my ears and I prefer harmony ... as I prefer looking at beauty as well'.

 Stefaan Eyckmans, Limes in Chinese Bowl

Bring Beauty Back

Art nowadays, and for quite some time, has been purged from sensuality. Popular culture, naturally, overcompensates for that omission. It is almost as if both the artists and the public are bodiless heads. The art world is ruled by an inescapable and implacable intellect. It has become utterly cryptic and antisocial. By taking into consideration the fact that art since its birth as well as during almost all of its course has been inextricably linked to the aesthetic, it is plausible to say that art has ceased to exist. 

Let me tell you a secret: art is kept in the museums. And even if, by exception, any art would be produced today, it should be left to time to determine whether it deserves a place in the museum. All it has become is a hybrid of play and activism. An amusement for the artist as well as the viewer, embedded with ideas, and an act important in itself, that is supposed to bring about social change. There is nothing wrong with art being embedded with ideas, as long as it is visually independent, as it can stand on its own. The art that is prevalent today and has been for several decades cannot exist without the theory, its theory. Being self-explanatory is irrelevant to this art. Moreover, both the artist that produces it and the viewer that consumes it take pride in its ambiguity. It is as if they are members of the same exclusive cult, of which the critic is the high priest, the artist is the cleric and the viewer is the believer.

In modern societies we live inside our heads, and we are unaware of it. To value beauty in art again, first of all, we need to be conscious of that tendency. All that is needed, then, is to reevaluate our priorities regarding art, in its production, its consumption, and its theory. It would, thus, be possible to reconnect with quintessential art. Art that is viscerally beautiful, not cerebrally useful. If only it were possible to bring beauty back, to bring art back...

                                                        Jan Van Eyck, Portrait of a Man, 1433

Born sometime before 1390 presumably in Maaseik, in present-day Belgium, Jan van Eyck lived during the Hundred Years' War. The threat of the pandemic of the Black Death, that had swept away one third of Europe's population, loomed over that era as well. 

Nevertheless, the painter belonged to a privileged environment, that shielded him from the impact of these events. His aristocratic descent, the erudition that he gained from it, combined with his extraordinary talent, gave van Eyck a self-confidence that was demonstrated in fact that he signed some of his works, something that was highly unusual at the time. The distinctive motto that accompanied his signature, 'AIC IXH XAN' had the form of a pun with a double impact. First of all, it is written in byzantine greek characters, stating, thus, his classical education, and, secondly, it corresponds to 'As I can' or 'As Eyck can'. Moreover, the subtle irony of the declaration 'I did what I can', on the frame of a masterpiece, conveys a humorous personality. In the Virgin and Child with Canon van der Paele of 1434-36 and the Arnolfini Portrait of 1434, the artist used another daring device to assert his identity. He included an actual self-portrait, in the form of a reflection on Saint George's armour and on the mirror, respectively. He, thus, closes the eye to the attentive viewer that discovers it, as well as demonstrates an artistic tour de force.

Van Eyck had the privilege to work successively for two monarchs. He was, thus, free from the restrictions of the painters' guilds. Furthermore, he enjoyed freedom to take commissions from other patrons as well. His enormous talent combined with the freedom to do as he pleased with it resulted in a revolutionary oeuvre that changed the fate of painting forever. He painted portraits of members of the growing middle class of the Netherlands, that consisted mainly of merchants. He supported, thus, the dynamic new order of society, but, at the same time, initiated a new dynamic order himself; the new, elevated status of painting and of the artist. Painting was not an important art at the time; at least, it was not as important as sculpture.

Van Eyck's depictions were highly realistic. That effect was achieved by the combination of his superb talent with the properties of his medium, oil painting, which he perfected. His use of the oil painting technique was so sophisticated, that he was mistakenly considered its inventor. He particularly insisted in realistic, naturalistic even, depiction, as is demonstrated by the amount of descriptive detail that is present in his pictures. The depicted textures are rendered in an unparalleled manner, each indicated by its corresponding reflection of light. As far as his sitters are concerned, however, the naturalistic depiction brought an additional quality to his art aside from illusionism. They appeared unidealized, present. Jan van Eyck's sitters were portrayed for who they actually were. He even made a note on the back of a study for the Portrait of the Cardinal Niccolo Albergati that the stubble of the beard should be grey.

Real appearances found their way intact into van Eyck's paintings, creating a sense that everything could be depicted by the painter. Nevertheless, it is still a subversion and a peculiarity that in his pictures the ordinary coexists with the supernatural. In The Virgin and Child with Chancellor Nicolas Rolin of around 1435, for example, one sees the sitter sharing an illusionistic architectural space with the Virgin Mary, the Divine Infant and an angel. Similarly, in The Virgin and Child with Canon van der Paele, the Holy Mother and Child as well as Saint Donatian, Saint George and the deceased Joris van der Paele are pictured coexisting not in a heavenly realm out of this world, but in a thoroughly convincing architectural setting, decorated with columns bearing intricately carved capitals, an elaborate canopy and a lavish oriental carpet, themselves dressed not in an ethereal manner, but in believable, worldly dress, which is rendered in a highly tangible manner. In the peculiar case of the Arnolfini Portrait, the sitter, who presumably is Giovanni di Nicolao Arnolfini, is, as suggested by Margaret L. Koster, possibly portrayed with his wife Costanza Trenta that had died in 1433. Actual individuals side by side with supernatural beings, holy figures paired with ordinary settings and trappings of accentuated materiality, the living with the dead. Jan van Eyck seems to have been highly practical, but deeply mystical at the same time. He boldly created captivating images.

Who were they really? In this blog, an answer to this question will be attempted regarding well-known artists of the past, artists for whom we are provided with many biographies. What will be provided for each artist will not be another biography, but a subjective approach to the quintessence of the particular artist, that is their idiosyncrasy, their unique perception of art and of their role in it, as well as the specific effect that they actually had in the art world.
Present artists will also feature in the blog, with an accompanying interview whenever possible.