Celebrating the 200th birthday of London’s National Gallery 1
Two hundred years ago, there were relatively few major collections of paintings that were open to the public. In Britain, John Julius Angerstein had assembled an art collection, and on 2 April 1824, the British government bought that for £60,000 to establish a national public collection housed in Angerstein’s former town house in London. On 10 May that year, London’s National Gallery first opened to the public. This weekend I celebrate that in two articles, where I look at some its most famous, and some personal favourites. Today I start with Duccio in the early fourteenth century, and hand over to tomorrow’s sequel in the late eighteenth century.
Duccio (fl 1278-1319), The Healing of the Man born Blind (Maestà Predella Panels) (1307/8-11), egg tempera on wood, 45.1 x 46.7 cm, The National Gallery (Bought, 1883), London. Courtesy of and © The National Gallery, London.
The National Gallery has a superb collection of early paintings, among them Duccio’s Healing of the Man born Blind from around 1307-11. This is a fine example of multiplex narrative, and the use of ultramarine blue pigment in egg tempera.
Anonymous, The Wilton Diptych (c 1395-9), egg tempera on panel, each panel 53 x 37 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
If you’re ever in London, the Wilton Diptych is a must-see. Painted some time between 1395-99, probably as a personal devotional for the king, it’s a jewel fashioned from egg tempera, probably some oils, and gold leaf, as shown in the detail below.
Artist not known, The Wilton Diptych (detail) (c 1395-9), egg tempera on panel, each panel 53 x 37 cm, The National Gallery, London. Image by Sailko, via Wikimedia Commons.
Jan van Eyck (c 1380/90-1441), Portrait of Giovanni Arnolfini (?) and his Wife (1434), oil on oak panel, 82 x 59.5 cm. The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Jan van Eyck’s most famous painting, known as The Arnolfini Wedding (or similar variations), is a remarkable exploration of optics, featuring distorted reflections in the mirror near the centre of the painting, completed in 1434. This newly-wed couple stand holding hands next to their marital bed, and there’s the suggestion that she is already well into her first pregnancy.
Antonello da Messina (c 1430–1479), Christ Blessing (Salvator Mundi) (c 1465), oil on wood panel, 38.7 x 29.8 cm, The National Gallery, London. Photo © and courtesy of The National Gallery, http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/antonello-da-messina-christ-blessing
The National Gallery has a particularly strong collection of early oil paintings, including several from the first master of the Southern Renaissance, Antonello. His Christ Blessing (Salvator Mundi) shows sophistication in his modelling of the face and rendering of the hair. It also has a cryptic reference to the date in the scroll at the foot, which some have claimed date it to 1465, but it might in fact be ten years later. Paint analysis shows that the dominant drying oil used in this work was walnut oil, rather than linseed.
Antonello da Messina (c 1430–1479), Saint Jerome in his Study (c 1475), oil on lime wood, 45.7 x 36.2 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Antonello, who was largely responsible for the introduction of oil painting to the Southern Renaissance, includes tiny landscape vignettes in his Saint Jerome in his Study from about 1475.
Geertgen tot Sint Jans (c 1460-1488), Nativity at Night (c 1490), oil on oak, 34 x 25.3 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Another unknown gem is this wonderful nocturne by the early Netherlandish painter Geertgen tot Sint Jans, Nativity at Night, thought to be from about 1490. Chiaroscuro makes narrative sense here, and results in a scene of great tenderness and reverence, thanks to its soft transitions of tones.
Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), The Virgin with the Infant Saint John the Baptist adoring the Christ Child accompanied by an Angel (‘The Virgin of the Rocks’) (Panel from the S. Francesco Altarpiece, Milan) (c 1491-1508), oil on poplar, thinned and cradled, 189.5 x 120 cm, The National Gallery (Bought, 1880), London. Courtesy of and © The National Gallery, London.
Among the gallery’s most famous works is one of Leonardo’s two Virgins of the Rocks. This London version is the later, probably from as late as 1506, and is in better condition than the earlier version in the Louvre.
Raphael (1483–1520), Portrait of Pope Julius II (1511), oil on poplar wood, 108.7 x 81 cm, National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Raphael’s Portrait of Pope Julius II dates from 1511, when it’s thought to have been donated to the church of S Marcello in Rome. There is a copy in Florence, but it’s now generally accepted that this version in London is Raphael’s original.
The National Gallery has two wonderful narrative paintings by Jacopo Tintoretto.
Jacopo Tintoretto (1519–1594), Saint George and the Dragon (c 1555), oil on canvas, 158.3 x 100.5 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
His Saint George and the Dragon from about 1555 is thoroughly innovative in its depiction of this legend.
Jacopo Tintoretto (c 1518–1594), The Origin of the Milky Way (E&I 213) (1577-79), oil on canvas, 149.4 × 168 cm, The National Gallery (Bought, 1890), London. Image courtesy of and © The National Gallery, London.
Tintoretto’s Origin of the Milky Way from 1577-79 is thought to have been painted for the church of San Trovaso, which now has a full-size copy in its place, although others consider it was one of four scenes of the life of Hercules painted for Emperor Rudolph II in Prague. Joyce Plesters (1927-1996), long-serving conservation scientist at the National Gallery, wrote a detailed account of its last major conservation work, and considered that there’s strong evidence that it underwent substantial reduction, losing its lower third, approximately. That’s thought to have contained the reclining nude figure of Earth.
Titian (1490–1576), Bacchus and Ariadne (1520-3), oil on canvas, 176.5 x 191 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Titian’s Bacchus and Ariadne (1520-3) is probably the most famous painting of the story of Ariadne abandoned by Theseus on the island of Naxos. In the distance, at the left edge, Theseus’ ship is shown sailing away, with Ariadne apparently waving towards it, as Dionysus arrives and leaps out of his chariot.
Caravaggio (1571–1610), Supper at Emmaus (1601), oil on canvas, 141 x 196.2 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
My choice of the gallery’s Caravaggios is his Supper at Emmaus from 1601. Commissioned that year by the brother of a cardinal, it shows the moment of Christ’s revelation of his identity to the two pilgrim disciples, with lighting carefully arranged to make the best of cast shadows, although close examination shows that they’re not entirely consistent.
Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669), Belshazzar’s Feast (c 1635-1638), oil on canvas, 167.6 x 209.2 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
My favourite from its Rembrandts is his Belshazzar’s Feast, painted around 1635-38, another of the many paintings that has to be seen in the flesh to really appreciate its brilliance.
Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640), An Autumn Landscape with a View of Het Steen in the Early Morning (c 1636), oil on oak, 131.2 x 229.2 cm, The National Gallery (Sir George Beaumont Gift, 1823/8), London. Courtesy of and © The National Gallery, London.
Peter Paul Rubens’ An Autumn Landscape with a View of Het Steen in the Early Morning, painted during his retirement in about 1636, was given to the gallery by Sir George Beaumont, a collector and patron of John Constable.
Sassoferrato (1609-1685), The Virgin in Prayer (1640-50), oil on canvas, 73 x 57.7 cm, The National Gallery (Bequeathed by Richard Simmons, 1846), London. Courtesy of and © The National Gallery, London.
Visit any of the larger galleries with substantial collections of paintings made before 1700, and you will see works with drapery which I can only describe as arresting in the brilliance of their ultramarine blue. One stunning example in the National Gallery is Sassoferrato’s The Virgin in Prayer from 1640-50. The Virgin’s cloak looks as if it was painted only yesterday, and that colour makes you stop in your tracks and draws you into the painting, like no other pigment can.
Diego Velázquez (1599–1660), Venus at Her Mirror, The Toilet of Venus (Rokeby Venus) (1644-48) [101], oil on canvas, 122.5 x 177 cm, The National Gallery, London. Image by Diego Delso, via Wikimedia Commons.
Diego Velázquez’s Rokeby Venus from 1644-48 is another of the gallery’s most famous works.
Claude Lorrain (1604/1605–1682), Landscape with Aeneas at Delos (1672), oil on canvas, 99.6 x 134.3 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
This landscape masterpiece, a singular painting in every respect, is Claude Lorrain’s Landscape with Aeneas at Delos (1672). This was the first of half a dozen works based primarily on the Aeneid painted in the final decade of Claude’s life. Its meticulous details are supported by a coastal landscape of great beauty.
Canaletto (Giovanni Antonio Canal) (1697–1768), Campo S. Vidal and Santa Maria della Carità (‘The Stonemason’s Yard’) (c 1725), oil on canvas, 123.8 x 162.9 cm, The National Gallery (Sir George Beaumont Gift, 1823), London. Image courtesy of and © The National Gallery, London.
Widely known as The Stonemason’s Yard, and held to be among Canaletto’s finest paintings, his view of Campo S. Vidal and Santa Maria della Carità from about 1725 features fewer and larger figures than many of his later works. Most of its people are in the lower left corner, which is a hive of activity. This was another early gift from Sir George Beaumont.
The National Gallery is fortunate enough to own all six of William Hogarth’s oil paintings in his cycle Marriage A-la-Mode from about 1743.
William Hogarth (1697–1764), Marriage A-la-Mode: 3, The Inspection (c 1743), oil on canvas, 69.9 × 90.8 cm, The National Gallery, London. Courtesy of The National Gallery London, inventory NG115.
In the third, The Inspection, Hogarth takes us to a doctor’s consulting room where the Viscount, who appears familiar with the room, is in company with a young girl and an older woman most probably her mother, both of them prostitutes. They’re seeking the aid of a doctor who is thoroughly foul in appearance, and himself suffering from severe congenital syphilis. As with all Hogarth’s paintings and prints, this repays close examination of its details.
Thomas Gainsborough (1727–1788), Cornard Wood, near Sudbury, Suffolk (1748), oil on canvas, 122 x 155 cm, The National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Thomas Gainsborough’s view of Cornard Wood, near Sudbury, Suffolk from 1748 is a wonderful depiction of the countryside around the artist’s home, and was one of John Constable’s favourite paintings.
Joseph Wright of Derby (1734–1797), An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump (1768), oil on canvas, 182.9 x 243.9 cm, The National Gallery, London. By courtesy of the National Gallery, Presented by Edward Tyrrell, 1863.
Although many of Joseph Wright of Derby’s distinctive paintings are in British provincial galleries, his most famous is in the National Gallery. Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump from 1768 captures the spirit of the Enlightenment with its carefully composed account of an early scientific experiment, dramatised using chiaroscuro.
I finish today’s small selection with another gem that repays seeking out when you’re in London.
Thomas Jones (1742-1803), A Wall in Naples (c 1782), oil on paper laid on canvas, 11.4 x 16 cm, National Gallery, London. Wikimedia Commons.
Thomas Jones started making landscape sketches in oils in the 1770s. He worked in Italy from 1776 to 1782, around Rome and Naples, where he completed many plein air paintings in oils, including this tiny Wall in Naples from about 1782. He’s now recognised as being the father of Welsh painting, and one of the first painters to make oil sketches in front of the motif.
Read more about the history of the National Gallery here.
