(Toshikage, 7 Gods Fighting with Ink, 1888) |
(The Ink War) |
(Ralph Steadman, the Malevolence of War) |
But when it comes to the heart of ink, Alice Mollon may have a wiser understanding.
Alice Mollon's illustration of ink slipping nude into the world |
(Toshikage, 7 Gods Fighting with Ink, 1888) |
(The Ink War) |
(Ralph Steadman, the Malevolence of War) |
Alice Mollon's illustration of ink slipping nude into the world |
"To live is to war with trolls." -- Ibsen
Anthropologists tell us that primitive cultures believed art had supernatural properties. Prehistoric tribes thought that striking a drawing of an animal on a cave wall would give them luck in the hunt.
Diorama from the Field Museum in Chicago |
Apotropaic images were believed to contain protective magic. Ancient Egyptians believed that images had the power to connect them with the gods, and that carvings in tombs would come alive in the afterlife.
They also believed that a person would be destroyed if his cartouche was obliterated.
It's a measure of the lasting power and mystery of art that even in modern times, superstitious and ignorant people continue to believe that destroying an image will obliterate their enemies.
illustration of "Impotence" by Push Pin's Seymour Chwast |
The book enables us to see the details of these frescoes for the first time, and they confirm what we always knew: that you can't put that many artists together for that long without generating all kinds of mischief.
In the next detail, some long ago scamp subtly beheaded the figure on the left:
In my recent post admiring a painting of a tree, someone commented that artists have been drawing trees for 30,000 years, and suggested that there could not be much new to say. But as William Irwin said, "the question is permanent; answers are temporary."
Trees may not have changed much in 30,000 years but nevertheless here are some innovative pictures of trees that I think are absolutely marvelous:
The brilliant draftsman Robert Fawcett draws tropical trees outside a hut:
Note how he drags a drybrush along their winding forms, then rounds them with shadows of leaves:
I love this little study of a tree by Nathan Fowkes.