Looking at Salvador Dali’s Swans Reflecting Elephants I was stricken by a sudden epiphany. Who was it that first said that swans were beautiful? We all know they are one of the symbols of grace, purity, and beauty but how often do we actually stop to look at them with a critical eye? Ungainly boat-shaped bodies, disproportionately long, snake-like necks, and a waddling gait – are these the attributes of a perfect being, a paragon of physical virtue? In what way does the miraculous transfiguration of Hans Christian Andersen’s infamous “Ugly” Duckling into the feathered equivalent of a snake in a boat constitute a good end? Of course Andersen never was too fond of happy endings…

It was this train of thought that led me to see this famous fairytale in a new light, and realize the superficial nature of the life-affirming end we have all been told by our parents. But have they told us the truth?

What if we look at the Ugly Duckling not as a positive symbol of the transformative power hidden within all of us, but as a profoundly disturbed individual with an agonizing inferiority complex? This complex stems in part from social rejection, in part from his own over-analytic nature. He does not see himself as the adorable, fluffy creature he is and lacks the lighthearted self-acceptance of childhood. Constantly judging and reassessing himself, he willingly accepts the taunts and jeers that are thrown his way. Perhaps he spends too much time looking at his own reflection – a futile exercise that has already brought about the demise of a menagerie of mythological figures.

Self-conscious to the point of obsessiveness, he dreams of only one thing – transformation. The glowing vision of a better self haunts his dreams and strengthens his belief in his own hideousness. He is not a misfit, he is a monster, shunned and loathed by all, even her whom he considers his mother. Seasons pass, and he gradually begins to change. Wearied by his own self-loathing, he hides from himself and is not aware of the alteration at first. But then the revelation comes. Gliding along the glossy surface of a sunlight lake, he takes a deep breath and looks down. But what does the despondent, unsatisfied perfectionist really see in this inverted image? Is it the radiant embodiment of exquisite elegance? No – it is an elephant, a twisted, surrealist inversion of his glamorous fantasies. The stricken idealist stares in horror at the image projected by his distorted imagination. There is no hope then. The world has betrayed his impossible standards, it has proved incapable of producing perfection. Then, like a mocking parody of Narcissus, he plunges into his own reflection and gives up his tormented soul to the dark, swirling waters of the lake.

Eleanor’s bedroom here was smaller than the one at home. She lay in a small but comfortable bed by the window, the drawn curtains leaving the room in semi-darkness. Eleanor’s eyes were open, but she was staring blankly at the window, as if unaware of anything around her. Her mother sat by the bed with a look of concern on her face, heedless of the soft rustling sound disturbing the heavy silence. After a while she raised herself from the chair and headed quietly towards the door. Springing up with a sudden burst of energy, Eleanor stretched her arms desperately towards her mother.

“Don’t leave me!” she wailed, “They will come after me! I can hear them climbing up the wall!”

Mother sighed patiently, “Nothing is coming after you dear. You just need some peace and quiet, and everything will be okay.” Of course Eleanor knew it wouldn’t be, but how could she explain? She watched her mother leave in despairing silence.

The rustling and scraping sounds outside the window intensify. Eleanor’s breathing grows heavier. For a moment, the sounds outside cease, and all that Eleanor can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat. Then the curtain concealing the window begins to move as if pushed by some unseen force, and spread over Eleanor’s bed. The scraping sound returns, louder than ever. Eleanor sits motionless, staring at the curtain, unable to utter a sound…

It was a beautiful morning. As Eleanor’s mother came down the hallway with a wholesome breakfast tray, her step was springy and optimistic, and she hummed a cheerful song. Reaching Eleanor’s door, she had to fumble with the tray for a few seconds before she managed to turn the handle. The door swung open to reveal a view of the room.

She was still humming as looked over at Eleanor’s bed. Sitting in the next room, Father heard the humming stop abruptly, and the tray come crashing down to the floor.

Eleanor lay sprawled on the bed, her blanket in a tumbled heap on the floor. Her hands convulsively grasped the stem of an enormous sunflower lying on top of her. Her face was entirely hidden from view by its poisonously yellow petals, wrapped tightly around her head. She was dead.

As the cold gray twilight faded over the cemetery, Eleanor’s parents watched as their daughter’s coffin was slowly lowered into the grave accompanied by Mother’s sobs. At least she had the comfort of knowing that everything was just as little Eleanor would have wanted. The grave overflowed with her favorite flowers – sunflowers. Mother tenderly caressed the sunflower found in Eleanor’s room and gazed at it with tears in her eyes.

“Watch over and protect our poor Eleanor. She was so very fond of sunflowers,” she whispered, kissing the flower and lowering it reverently into her daughter’s grave. Perhaps the tears blurred her vision as she turned away, but she didn’t see the Sunflower slowly begin to claw at the lid of the coffin with its predatory leaves. She never did.

Go back to review parts II and I.

Eleanor’s mother could not understand why, just when she seemed so much better she had suddenly had a panic attack during a bath. She could not imagine that it was triggered by Eleanor’s yellow rubber duck. The unfortunate girl could sense the horror coming on as it landed with a crash in her foamy bath water – it was the color – the agonizing yellow of the sunflowers that haunted her dreams.

The duck’s body begins to stretch and elongate, while sunflower petals grow out of its head. Eleanor tries to scream, but is unable to find her voice. She begins to push herself to the other side of the bathtub, but the duck, now completely transformed into a sunflower pursues her, floating eerily above the foam.

Before the Sunflowers, Eleanor used to love to sit in the kitchen watching her mother cook. Today however, everything was different. As Mother tipped a bottle of sunflower oil over the frying pan, Eleanor stared nervously at the rough drawing of a sunflower on the label, and the stream of yellowish oil trickling with a deafening growl onto the hot pan.

A funnel of oil rises out of the pan with petals bursting from its top. Her mother doesn’t see it. Eleanor’s eyes widen in fear and she presses herself to the wall. Though she forces herself to remain silent the image pursues her throughout dinner, and the fried potatoes, tainted by the loathsome essence of the oil seem to vibrate beneath her fork.

As Eleanor’s odd behavior increased, her parents began to wonder whether her nervous condition required something more than warm tea. Perhaps a nice trip to the south of France would give her the rest she needed…

In the warm sunlight of a French summer, the family stood in front of a small, cozy-looking country house. The house was freshly painted, and looked clean and very cheerful. Flowerpots stood on the windowsills and a rocking chair creaked on the wooden porch. The house and the yard were surrounded by a fence. Eleanor listlessly surveyed the scene with an absent look. Her face was drained of all color and very thin. Her eyes, which seemed even bigger than before were red from lack of sleep and had a feverish, haunted look in them. Mother took her gently by the hand and led her over to the back gate of the fence.

“There is a beautiful field behind this house.” She murmured softly, “It is so lovely and bright, I am sure the sight of it will cheer you up.” Stepping forward with a tentative shuffle, Eleanor raised her eyes.

The field is a sea of sunflowers of every possible shade of yellow, glowing in the light of the rising sun. The sunflowers turn their sightless faces towards her, their long necks bend over her, drowning her small figure in their sprawling shadow. Suddenly a metal blade, flashing in the sun crashes down on the neck of one of the sunflowers. Its head falls to the ground with a sickening crunch. It rolls towards Eleanor and stops right at her feet, its dead petals brushing against her toes. Eleanor stands motionless, paralyzed by fear. An army of peasants armed with glittering scythes descends on the army of sunflowers. A bloody battle begins. Sunflower heads fly in all directions, stems crash down on all sides, the sunflowers stretch towards the men, shaking their leaves threateningly. Tearing their roots out of the ground, they march towards their adversaries, slashing at them with their powerful leaves. Some slither on the ground like snakes, tangling themselves around feet and dragging their victims to the ground. The field is strewn with dead bodies, and the sunflowers stand over them in grim triumph, blood dripping from their murderous petals.

Click to continue reading part III of this tantalizing story >

It was around four o’clock in the afternoon in a room of Postimpressionistic art at the National Gallery in London. A row of rigid, backless wooden benches cut across the center of the room, and the bright fluorescent lamps hanging from the high ceiling infused the atmosphere with a sickly yellow light. The scanty group of listlessly wandering visitors barely disturbed the oppressive silence.

A couple walked in accompanied by their young daughter. She seemed to be about six years old, her small stature and innocent, large brown eyes making her look even younger. Her frail figure was encased in a flowered pink dress and a yellow wool sweater, which offset her pale complexion. The family walked around the room stopping at a Van Gogh painting. The painting depicted a vase overflowing with vivid yellow sunflowers, which seemed to pop out from their flat blue background. Turning towards the girl the mother began to gesture towards the painting as if explaining something. To the child however, her voice remained unheard.

At first she seemed merely lost in thought, as if she was either not listening, or not hearing what her mother was saying to her. She was staring fixedly at the painting, as an expression of fascination bordering on fear spread gradually over her face…

The sunflowers were motionless only a second ago, but they are slowly beginning to move. Some grasp the edge of the vase with their tentacle-like petals like insects preparing to crawl down the side of the vase, others stretch their green necks forward as if struggling to burst out of the painting. One sunflower slithers out of the vase and begins to make its way across the table top, towards the edge of the painting. Its featureless brown face, surrounded by a mass of writhing yellow petals seems to gaze out in silent menace as it gets closer and closer…

With a cry of terror, she backed away from the painting, almost tripping over her mother’s foot. Her mother stopped talking and looked down at her in surprise. Through the numbness of her horror, she could barely make out her mother’s voice: “Eleanor! What is wrong with you? Stop playing around and pay attention. I was just telling you about the artist who made this beautiful painting. Eleanor, are you listening to me? Eleanor?”

Eleanor glanced absently at her mother and then her eyes slowly drifted back to the painting. Now however, the painting was perfectly peaceful and motionless. Oblivious, her mother turned to her father. “I think we should take Eleanor home now.” She said with a trace of irritation in her voice, “She is obviously too tired to concentrate, and we can always come back another day.”

Assertively, Mother took Eleanor by the hand and led her out of the room. Eleanor followed, her eyes still fixed on the painting.

That night, as Eleanor lay in bed in her ruffled nightgown beneath a fluffy blanket, neither the cheerful curtains on her window, nor the sight of her favorite toys could quell the overwhelming premonition of evil that was beginning to take possession of her senses. Everything felt somehow different, and even the comforting yellow glow of her nightlight, throwing spots of light onto her ceiling seemed eerie and disturbing.
Eleanor stared intently at the spot, her small fingers unconsciously grabbing the edge of the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.

The yellow spot on the ceiling grows in size and quickly multiplies into more spots which begin to morph into silhouettes of sunflowers. The sunflowers begin a wild, swirling dance that begins to move closer and closer to the bed as the sunflowers stretch their leaves like arms threateningly in her direction. Eleanor inches away from them in mute terror. One of her hands gropes desperately around the bed in search of something to use for protection, as she waves the other helplessly in front of the advancing sunflowers. The sunflowers are inches away from her. She begins to gasp for air, her hands still searching frantically over the bed. Just as one of the sunflowers gets close enough to brush against her face, she utters a strangled yell and conceals herself entirely beneath the blanket.

A week passed, and the doctor reassured Eleanor’s parents that she was getting better. Only Eleanor knew that this wasn’t true. She did her best to pretend to participate in normal, everyday life, but visions of the sunflowers only plagued her more and more…

Click to continue reading part II of this tantalizing story >

“In order to learn to draw, you must learn to see”. These words took my attention when I recently read a book about painting. That is how I learned that an object hasn’t a single color, but an infinity of shades. Rendering reality as it is it’s almost impossible. However, I can say that the artist paints only the reality he sees.

Monet began to make associations between reality, nature and painting, following the guidance he received from Eugene Boudin, with whom he began to paint outdoors. After meeting with the artist, Monet wrote: “Boudin, with a tireless kindness, began to guidance me. Finally, my eyes opened and I truly understood nature. In the same time, I learned to love her”.

Monet’s words reminded me of Plato’s story. The greek philosopher imagined a cave in which people, who are tied, look towards a wall to the shadows caused by objects paraded before a fire behind the prisoners. The shadows are seen by people as being the only reality. One of the prisoners managed to escape and goes outside the cave. He contemplates the sun and the surrounding nature. He comes back in the cave to tell the other prisoners what is the actual reality. Nobody believes him. Fortunately, the “reality” drawn by a painter is admired by fans of beauty, even if it is not the true embodiment of the object that stands in front of the artist.

Every artist, at the beginning of his career, has a person who helps him gain maturity in his work. He is the person who will help him define his manner of painting, the person from whom he will learn techniques and tricks that enhance his own ideas. The young artist should add his own vision and experiences to the master’s ideas, tips and tricks to become unique.

For Monet, Boudin was the one who paved the way to an artistic career and the same who made the world aware of the artist Claude Monet. Because of his master, young Monet decided to become a professional artist, painting in direct contact with the reality of nature. The first painting by Monet, where he signed Monet O. 58, is a landscape near the village Rouelles with the water flowing along. The young artists’ passion once opened it could not be taken away even by the painters’ father. In those times artists were not seen kindly, so Monet was left without any financial support from his family, except for an aunt.

The vision of reality will enrich along his life. Called to military service, he goes to Africa, where he fell in love with light and color. While some artists choose to spread darkness, shadows on canvas, Monet prefers the sun and shades that render nature. A man has a lot of stops along the way, in which he has the opportunity to change all or just to improve his vision. Africa was for Monet another stop, where he could see nature in a new light: “My view on things has improved. At first, I didn’t realize that. The impressions of light and color formed there only later revealed, but already sprouted in me a desire for future searches,” wrote the young artist.

If in Africa, Monet looked at nature alone, when he came back, he met the dutch men Johann Barthold Jongkind, who explained to him the practice and motivation of his work, thus complementing the guidance of Boudin. “Since then, he became my true master, whom I owe my views final education,” Monet described the meeting with Jongkind.

Landscapes will define Monet’s work. The most representative paintings are the 250 variations of the famed Water Lilies, painted in the last twenty years of his life. The artist Claude Monet is the one who also informed the world about France’s natural wealth.

Over the years, Monet took the ideas of painters he met along the way, such as Jongkind and Boudin, and combined them with his own unique style and footprint. Monet was able to adapt and borrow his art from his surrounding molding his art into what it is so well known for today.

Therefore, if you consider those next to you as being masters, regardless of their age or training, take the time to open your mind, and listen to what they have to say. You will find out that you become a richer artists just by listening to others.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet,” quotes Juliet to Romeo in Shakespeare’s classic. Yet, in art, sometimes the name is the only indicator to the art enthusiast about the painter’s intention.

Salvador Dali was a strange man, is quite the understatement, and so we have much to meditate on in his “Meditative Rose,” rendered in 1958. I can safely say that artists are strange people with sweet and not so sweet symbolism.

An imaginative youth, like many artists I fell in love with Surrealism for its ambiguous and oddly direct treatment of reality and existentialism. I remember my conservative grandparents being fascinated and appalled by the man as much as his artwork. This perspective lives on among most individuals today, as the artist’s work ever evokes paradox, and in turn duality.

I found a beautiful truth in Dali’s “Meditative Rose.” Daily experience is subject to five sensory filters–smell, sound, touch, taste, and feeling, a delirium of interpretation. Dali turns that on the head. The rose defies gravity, fully bloomed over the desert landscape, so common to the artist’s work. It even has its own subtle white aura, as the it floats over the ground and the couple contemplating the horizon. A single dew drop rests on the lower petal. Even over the dreary landscape, the rose is suspended sun-like. While the rose projects light like the sun, it also seems reflective, with a touch of cloud white on a top right petal. The top half of the painting is made of primary colors: red, yellow, and blue, reflected over the landscape. Modern artists, who also dabbled in the science of color, called blue the most spiritual color.

The rose is reminiscent of a a perfectly visually balanced mandala, used for meditative, ritual, and artistic practices. Psychologist Carl Jung attempted his hand at painting a Golden Flower mandala. The two works are striking when compared.

While we could certainly attempt to meditate to this painting, many theorize that the rose isn’t just a spiritual symbol. In fact is is a celebration of love, perhaps of Dali and his wife Gala. The use of figures in pairs on desert landscapes isn’t anything new in Dali’s works. Reference “Archaeological Reminiscence of Millet’s Angelus,” painted in 1935. The use of figures in space in such a way is characteristic of the painter.  In his 1937 “Untitled,” or Woman with Head of Flowers, a strange male figure with a Daliesque, twisty mustache bows before the woman.

I don’t have a twisty, villainous mustache, but I did let out a rather sinister laugh when I discovered how deeply entrenched the artist’s influence was in my own work. I first saw this piece as a poster when I was a little girl, and it was my true introduction to Dali. The truth I discovered in the “Meditative Rose” is another form of timelessness and a beauty. The bright red of the hue makes it hard to stare away. A nice summary of the piece may be the the cliché saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” In my own work, I find that I explore a widely-defined type of universal symbolism, emotion, and philosophy, juxtaposed against landscape. This is true especially in relation of the body to nature. In returning to look at this piece again since my childhood, I discover striking similarities between our use of symbolism as pictoral elements.

The following piece is part of my first solo show. This artwork, entitled “Amongst the Lilies” has an abstract torso (which is almost a landscape) and a series of floating lilies over the horizon. The piece is a exploration of the Dark Night of the Soul, where the individual follows a journey to becoming closer to spiritual wholeness or a god. The poet Yeats compares the journey to becoming one with a lover after a series of doubts. I also approach the painting as this metaphor. Eventually, the draped individual is supposed to reach that “wholeness,” which in a later painting is simply the fading white lilies on black like wisps of smoke.

Regardless of choice of symbolism or use of pictoral images, I resonate with Dali and his famous floating rose. At the most primal level, it represents an outlived sense of beauty and joy that is omnipresent. Is there a particular artist that you admire?

With unusual weather, certain areas of the world are seeing flowers blooming early. In the south east of the United States, daffodils are shooting out of the ground and cherry blossoms are forming on bare limbs. The famous Pennsylvanian ground hog, Phil, did not see his shadow this year, thereby accurately signifying an early spring in the United States.

Spring is here, which means watching your flowers come up and getting a little “spring cleaning” done. While you are cleaning out household closets (and maybe even the garage this year), you are likely considering bringing spring back into your home.

Redecoration doesn’t have to be a hassle. Often, it can begin with a simple element to focus the color scheme on. Since we are on the subject of spring and flowers, here are five floral paintings that may inspire your spring fever:
 

1. Branches of an Almond Tree in Blossom 
    Rendered by Van Gogh in 1890, as restless as the painter’s mind this work’s color scheme would soothe a dynamic home. Pull the gray-green and blues along with the pale peach for a serene appeal, especially great for wall or fabric palettes. 
2. 
    Artist’s Garden in Giverny
   Rendered by Monet as a part of his famous garden and water lily series at his home in Giverny, France, these bold and impressionistic colors are sure to inspire those with a love life and color. Each brushstroke is unique unto itself. This piece is wonderful to consider for gardeners with a passion for cultivating plant life as did Monet and his rendering of it.
3. Field of Poppies considered a favorite of Van Gogh’s works, Field of Poppies was originally rendered in 1890. Petals may be almost any color, and some have markings. Two primary colors in art–blue and red–sky and earth–are calmed by the green hues of the work. Movement is suggested, a spring wind. Take a hint from the poppies and let red be the color that pops in your home.
4. Orchard most of us are familiar with Klimt’s lovers and extravagant use of pattern. His rich, advant-garde brushwork is still evident in the yellows, golds, and the highlight of the sun on tree trunks in the orchid. Flowers begin to bloom among the trees. Spring overcomes even the branches, and the view is left feeling at peace and in restful seclusion.
5. Red Amaryllis - Rendered by Georgia O’Keeffe in 1937, the artist was one of the rare prominent female painters of her time. She rendered flowers, bones, and landscapes. Many see feminist aspects in her flowers, the empowerment of fertility, vigor, passion, the feminine, and life.

These five floral paintings will assist you in finding artistic ways to welcome spring back into your home. Discover more famous spring paintings by master artists at overstockArt.com.

Many would argue that fashion is art, and many designers are inspired by literary, performing, and visual arts. Artists argue that art furthers an innate understanding about human existence that philosophy, science, and even nature do not readily provide. The human body is subject to being rendered on canvas and measured for decorations that emphasize our individuality as much as societal labels.

We are living in a recession, which economists have paralleled to the Great Depression, a time when Art Deco was at its height. Think the Empire State Building in New York City. For fashion, this meant a continuance of abstraction and adornment with beads, seaming as decorative lines, and in the Depression hemlines dropped and longer lines were in fashion, which meant less expensive embellishments. Today there is a focus on sustainability, reusables, and individuality. It may also be a little about cheering ourselves up with classics, something with a since of timelessness.

We recently discovered that Polyvore, a site “where people can discover their style and set trends around the world,” has many collections inspired by mastered artists featured at overstockArt.com. When people shop they create “clips” of shoes and different clothing essentials which they can combine into “sets” and share on Polyvore, Facebook, Twitter, or through email to friends. Let’s see what’s trending based on a few famous paintings:

Girl With a Peal Earring, Vemeer

This set on Polyvore is inspired by Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring, painted in 1665. The set features Scarlet Johansson, an Amor & Psyche top, black suede pumps, a Judith Leiber New Bean satin clutch with a touch of sparkle, and popping red makeup.

The items chosen reflect attributes of various decades… the dark red lipstick of the 1930s, made popular by photography showcasing more and more women wearing it. Satin, from the purse featured here, was also a much used fabric of the time. Besides pearl earrings, this set has something else in common. The Girl with a Pearl Earring is also nicknamed “The Mona Lisa of the North,” and Johansson’s debut film was “North.”

The same painting can influence color palettes in clothing choice. 

Gustav Klimt

Gustav Klimt was known for his embellishment and lavish patterns in his paintings of lovers. The Dale 2 shoes from Icon collected in this set by a fan are a direct depiction of Klimt’s Stoclet Frieze.

Wassily Kandinsky
Some credit Kandinsky as the father of the abstract movement. His works dealt with symbolism and a balance between the scientific and subjective components of color. He depicted the experience of color on the viewer as parallel to the experience of music to its listener. He often contrasted yellow and blue, where yellow is warm and has a longer wave length, arresting the viewer immediately. Blue invokes a deep, almost spiritual, calm as it moves away from the viewer. It’s similar to the western use of red stop signs instead of blue.

Does that dress remind you of a certain era? What about Mod? It’s a subculture that originated in the UK in the late 1950s through the 1960s. However, in wasn’t until the late seventies that North America saw a Mod (“Modernist”) revival.  If the term isn’t enough to jog your memory, perhaps we can spread the inspiration to something more political–the Royal Airforce roundel in the UK.

We challenge you to visit overstockArt.com and personalize your fashion sensibility with a favorite painting! What are your thoughts on how visual art has influenced fashion trends?

Porn. Porn. Porn. Porn. Do I have your attention, yet? There is a taboo about nudity in human society, particularly in western civilization, and it is often centered on the female body. The nude is the most physical and visible, “naked” aspect of self. The nude is tangible. Throughout art history, onto the female nude western society has projected its fears, hopes, and desires. They say, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Consider the fertility symbolism portrayed in ancient statues (The Venus of Willendorf)—a body with no head, but large breasts, belly, and swollen ankles. We, the general public, don’t place as much speculation on the artist’s intention for these ancient works since “artist” was not yet the mysterious profession that it has become. To place value on a subject renders the inanimate to be animate, and the value we place on the evolution of the female nude in art reflects our own evolution as a society. Women are the givers of life, rendered as mothers, lovers, whores, friends, and goddesses. The female nude in art is different subject matter we think, however, based on how she is rendered and who she is rendered by. Yet, it depends gravely upon the perceptions we make, which thereby inform our culture.

Painters on the Female Nude

The living model, the naked body of a woman, is the privileged seat of feeling, but also of questioning… The model must mark you, awaken in you an emotion which you seek in turn to express.” – Henri Matisse

A nude which has little if any affiliation with exhibitionism, which expresses warmth and confidence and an actual story, which has little or nothing to do with contemporary angst or submissiveness or abuse or domination, would best be described as a “who” and not a “which” or “what.” Sad to say that such a wondrous nude is today rarely visible, or even recognized, in the realm of the arts.” – Bernard Poulin

Botticelli and Perfection

Botticelli considered Simonetta Vespucci to be the perfect female representation of Venus, and perhaps the perfect emblem of beauty. Many painters rendered Simonetta’s beauty, yet it’s The Birth of Venus that western society most recalls. Painted in 1485, The Birth of Venus (or, Primavera) depicts the birth of the goddess Venus from the sea. The Graces adorn her with flowers. She isn’t what many would say “too skinny,” but her proportions are considered to be anatomically improbable. Her neck is elongated, and though she stands in a classical contrapposto stance, her body weight is shifted too far onto her left leg for the pose to be realistically held. The female nude is a goddess. These are the facts, but what perceptions are absorbed into culture? If the viewer wants to move from pagan depiction to a monotheistic interpretation, you might think that Venus is Eve right before the fall of humanity into sin. At least this would be a Platonic idea, as Venus had two aspects–the goddess who aroused mortals into physical love and also spiritual love. The contemplation of the physical leads to contemplation of the spiritual.

Munch and Fear

Edvard Munch attributed a vorpal fear and awe to the female, whether she donned clothing or not. Munch “put a lot of himself” into his artwork. Many say that he “hated” women, but his mother died when he was very young and his sister was diagnosed with a mental illness, which ran in the family. Munch often said that insanity and death stalked him.

Woman in Three Stages was completed by Edvard Munch in 1894.

Woman at one and the same time is a saint, a whore, and an unhappy person abandoned.” – Edvard Munch

To be fair, even the men that Munch rendered are not realistic and are troubled.

The Stigma on Modigliani’s Female Nudes

Completed in 1916, The Female Nude is a rare piece in Modigliani nude works. The figure, as his others, is mostly naturalistic, yet nearly all of his works feature his nudes reclining or resting. This piece is situated among his lovers and friends, and not among the nude series that exhibited in what was to be his only solo exhibition. The nudes caused a scandal. One nude was leered at by a crowed of onlookers, and the police chief ordered the nudes to be dismantled and relocated. Amadeo Modigliani didn’t seem to have any unusual qualms with women for his time, and Modigliani remains famous for his nudes, of all things.

What Nude Means for “The Female”

It’s time for the naked truth, which is whatever we perceive it to be. What concerns western civilization and the evolution of the female nude in art history is the infiltration of mispurposed “value.”  Too skinny. Too fat. Too much skin. Porn. Porn. Porn. Porn. Mother. Goddess. Whore.

What about Woman? …and is this question as restrictive? In the evolution of art history into postmodernism, what do we behold and how will that shape our civilization?

Few paintings make the transition from museum circle legend to pop culture icon. We have our favorites, be it by Degas, da Vinci, or Duchamp.

Mona Lisa and The Scream

The above listed paintings are two examples of famous paintings that have achieved pop culture icon status. What else do these paintings have in common? The latter, The Scream, is a “study of my soul,” according to Munch, a universal expression of human anxiety according to others. Mona Lisa is supposed by some scholars to truly be da Vinci himself. But aside from being supposed or literal interpretations of the artist, these two artistic icons have something else in common – music.

Mona Lisa Inspires Nat King Cole

Not yet another rigid profile painting of nobility by a notable painter, Mona Lisa is a girl who captured the world by her secretive smile. As a painting, we can impress upon her any of our experiences and imagine who Lisa del Giocondo was, what her life might have been like. We can suppose what his life might have been like, for those who favor the theory that da Vinci disguised himself in her. For those who do favor the theory, it may interesting to note Marcel Duchamp, among others, created L.H.O.O.Q. as an artistic parody of the original, including a mustache, goatee, and flattering inscription of “Elle a chuad au cui,” translated as “She has a hot ass.”

“Are you warm, are you real, Mona Lisa? Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art?” Nat King Cole asks this of the painting in a song that topped Billboard’s charts for eight weeks as the number one song in 1950. “Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep. They just lie there and they die there.” Mona Lisa is the woman the viewer can’t have, by her expression as much as she is a painting which inspired a chart topping song.

The Scream and Screamo?

Before creating his 1893 masterpiece, Edvard Munch was taking a stroll down 76th Drive in Forest Hills (Queens, New York) only to be struck down by a most invasive muse. Munch said that the painting was a study of his own soul, describing the moment of inspiration thusly,

“I was walking down the road with two friends when the sun set; suddenly, the sky turned as red as blood. I stopped and leaned against the fence, feeling unspeakably tired. Tongues of fire and blood stretched over the bluish black fjord. My friends went on walking, while I lagged behind, shivering with fear. Then I heard the enormous, infinite scream of nature.”

At this particular point in his artistic career Munch was struggling with a major bout of madness, and in the coming years underwent therapy which brought upon a new era in Munch’s art.

According to Bob Olson, a professor of contemporary music at Texas State University, it was a revolutionary moment in music heard from a nearby apartment that gave Munch more than an anxiety attack. “It’s just another example of great art begetting great art,” said Olson in a CNN.com article, “A genius in one medium inspiring a genius in another.”

Whatever Munch heard that day is not yet clear. Given the era, it certainly was not Screamo, but the sound incurred a similarly unique expression in Munch. Art begets art. Great art begets great art, and art changes lives.

We each have our favorite paintings, be it a part of a museum collection, a favorite of popular culture, or a local creation. It will be exciting to see what new revolutions in music inspire art and what artists we know today, be they locally or nationally recognized, who will create the next great art icon. Who knows what Jimi Hendrix or Lady Gaga may have secretly inspired?

Until we find out, explore Mona Lisa, The Scream, and other iconic favorites at overstockart.com.