Triumph of the Citrus Prince

I thought I would try to steer away from “Bare Boobs and Breastfeeding” as a primary theme this week, and instead return to another much-loved theme in art, “Hubris.”

This is Frederick Henry, 17^th century Prince of Orange, seen here after a tragic accident involving a pencil sharpener, his face, and severe neck trauma requiring use of a Lace Brace.

And this is the “Triumph of Frederik Henrik,” by Jacob Jordaens.

It was a modest triumph, really.

I should note that this was commissioned by Frederick Henry’s consort after his death, to show how awesome he was.  But really it goes to show that he couldn’t triumph over death.  I assume that that is why Skeletor here is about to stab that pansy angel in the face before moving on to Freddy. 

Elsewhere in the heights the Baby Vine crop is literally dripping with fruit, ripe and ready for plucking.  Mmm, plump, juicy babies.

Back down on the ground, a naked Father-Son duo practice for their entry to the Hawkeye Initiative.  Curve those spines and pop out those tushies, boys!

The son looks like he’s getting up to some mischief, inciting a stampede in the middle of a crowded plaza.  This guy has already been trampled to death by overexcited horses. 

This is why you should always adhere to the maximum capacity warnings for public spaces.  Here it was 100 people OR 50 horses OR 2 hungry lions.

At least the dead trampled guy’s body won’t go to waste.

A few men apparently have a brilliant scheme to steal this life-sized golden statue while no one is paying attention.  HEEEEAVE!

Finally, we have the center of attention himself, His Godliness Frederick Henry.  He lounges casually on his golden chariot, serene in the middle of all the chaos.  Beside him is his trusty staff.  He has apparently taken the Anime approach to weaponry, with the assumption that the bigger the sword the better.  Or maybe it’s just his consort’s wishful thinking.

No Thanks, I Quit Drinking (Breastmilk)

Dear readers, I apologize for being remiss here.  These are hectic times, and at the end of the day I've been tired and uninspired.  But for the sake of keeping on the sporadic blogging bandwagon, I present you with this, which is vaguely in line with the theme from last time.

Source

This is "St. Nicholas Refusing His Mother’s Milk,” by an unknown artist.  Apparently St. Nicholas' mother has vases for breasts.  Either that, or she's pointing a flesh-colored water balloon at her son.

St. Nicholas himself appears to have been cross-bred with a caterpillar.

And this is the conversation they are having, apparently having been locked in a battle of wills for about 3 days straight.

Mother: DRINK IT.  DRINK THE MILK.  RIGHT NOW.
St Nicholas: NOOOOOOO.  STOP POINTING THAT THING AT ME.  
Mother: I'VE BEEN TAKING LESSONS FROM MARY.  YOU CANNOT ESCAPE MY LASER LACTATION DEVICE. 

St. Bernard Milks It For All It's Worth

This week, not one, but two people sent me images for this blog.  It made me happy that some people think of me when they see art.  Then I realized this means that people see drawings of semi-nude women and butt jokes and think “Oh yeah, that’ll be up her alley.”  But I digress. 

This week we look at depictions of St. Bernard’s vision of Mary.  I was unaware of this story, but having now looked into it apparently it was quite a popular vignette in paintings.  The story goes that St. Bernard was praying before a statue of the Virgin Mary, and he asked her to “show herself to be a mother.”  The statue then came to life, gave the breasticle a bit of a squeeze, and shot virgin-milk directly into his mouth.  Apparently this was supposed to represent either the gift of life, or the “wisdom of God.” 

So without further ado, here is the painting that got the ball rolling here.  I can’t find the artist, but “La Vision de San Bernardo de Claraval” appears at the Museo Palacio Arzobispal de Lima.

Looks like your typical man holding a Roman torture implement to kneel before a woman surrounded by winged and un-winged babies.  But upon closer inspection…

Really she’s got pretty good range.  Baby Jesus is standing there going, “Well, I guess I can share.  It’s better direct from the source, though.”

Sometimes Mary’s aim is less good (or precise).

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Although that’s probably what I would do if someone asked me to prove myself a mother by breastfeeding them.  In your EYE, disbeliever!

Of course, there are simpler ways of getting at those who question you.  Here Bernard looks like he might be in the middle of a stroke and about to drown in a stream of fresh milk. 

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Sometimes the scene doesn’t show the milk-bestowal proper, instead showing him trying to persuade Mary to just let him have a bit of her sweet, sweet baby food.

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Here there’s the bonus of baby angels everywhere, including Mary standing on baby angel heads.

Then there’s this one, where he’s not so much ready for a drink, as he looks like he might burn a hole in her breast with his Intense Stare. 

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I’m not so sure it’s “proof of motherhood” he’s looking for there….

I leave you with perhaps the most famous image, by Alonzo Cano.

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Clearly Mary has been practicing for that carnival game with the squirtgun and the little targets.  I think she’ll win the giant teddy bear.

It's Tough to Be the Queen - Part 9

Dear readers, this week we turn again to the ongoing Medici Cycle saga.  And this one is a doozy.  Last time, after like nine other paintings, Marie was finally coronated as the Queen of France.  There were angels and it rained gold coins and everything.  Marie was crowned on 13 May, 1610. 

Then, her husband, Henry, was tragically assassinated.  This happened…on 14 May, 1610.

TOTALLY A COINCIDENCE.  And Marie was of course quite reluctant to take full control of the regency.  Sorry, did I say reluctant?  I meant that she took it up the same day her husband was murdered.  Out of a sense of duty to the country, I am sure.

This painting is called the “Death of Henry IV and the Proclamation of the Regency.”  And it is the best representation of an assassination, ever.

Henry is spirited away to the skies, looking understandably concerned at being dragged bodily by two men clothed only in sheets while being harassed by an eagle armed with lightning bolts. 

Back on earth, there is an effort to keep him in the mortal realm.  Not by his wife, of course, but rather by a fire-breathing snake grabbing his ankle.

His wife is already seated on the throne beneath a triumphal arch, “reluctantly” receiving the orb of power from France, whose bosom is dangling all over the place, because it is France.

Meanwhile, Marie has suddenly become a very eligible bachelorette, judging by the throngs of drooling men suddenly clawing at her throne.

Somehow it seems the menfolk weren’t coming a-knocking in quite such numbers BEFORE she was Queen of France, but I am sure this is entirely related to her womanly charms.  Although I would recommend that they all should take a close look at her dead hubby’s obituary in relation to her coronation before getting too amorous.

As a final note, what is going on with this guy??

This appears to be a disembodied zombie head protruding from a shiny shield.  Which I like think is really the message we should take away from this.  “If your husband is coincidentally assassinated one day after you come into a position to get a lot of power from his death, beware the zombie hordes that will come for you from another dimension out of all reflective surfaces.”

Jesus: He’s Back – And This Time, He’s Mad

Dear readers, it would appear that once more Easter is upon us, and with it the celebration of life and resurrection from death through chocolate eggs laid by a confused rabbit.  Or so I am led to believe by the supermarket shelves. 

In honor of this occasion I have found a fantastic rendition of Jesus returning from the dead.  Apparently Jesus coming out of the tomb alive and having witnesses would not have been in keeping with his ultimate message of letting the world, including people who were not already his followers, know he just performed a great miracle; thus, most paintings of this scene feature two or three guards lying around the tomb asleep.  This version from the 15^th century “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry,” however, takes this a step further.

Look at him!  Jesus is literally surrounded by the fallen bodies of heavily armed soldiers.  They’re not just asleep; they are piles of flesh, limbs akimbo, necks at awkward, broken angles. 

This Jesus was not taking his return from the dead lightly.  He was back to kick some serious butt.  And clearly he was up to the challenge of an army or two on his own, as his only companion is this guy.

A rather diminutive angel who clearly just spent waaaay too long at the tanning salon on his way to the resurrection.  There’s no way he caused that much havoc when he’s just recovering from sunstroke. 

Not content with merely taking out the world’s military forces, the resurrection was also apparently the catalyst for the next great flood, as well.

Everyone, human and angel alike, is waist-deep in water.  And when the angels are finding water levels to be getting a little uncomfortable, you know the world is in deep (ha!) trouble.

Really what this painting made me think of was this clip for Gandhi II.  You know, the spirit of Easter.  Happy Spring, everyone!

It’s Raining Men

Dear readers, I have been ridiculously busy this past week, and it looks like things are only going to get busier for a while.  I apologize if entries are a bit shorter or further between.  I’ll try to find pictures that are worth a thousand words to make up for it.  Starting with this one.  

After last week’s naked woman-fest, here is something for the ladies.  I originally found this piece on Ugly Renaissance Babies, but as it does not feature babies, and instead has so much more, I decided it deserved its own entry. 

The Fall of the Titans, by Cornelius van Haarlem, demonstrates once again how much this artist likes some prominent naked man-butt front and center.  Well, slightly to the right. 

I try to find images with high resolutions, the better to see all the little details that make many paintings great.  With this one, Wikimedia has a copy available at 7,328 × 5,688 pixel resolution.  You can just about see the pores on these guys’ faces (or other bits, if you prefer).  This allows one to appreciate the delicate eyelashes and bushy ‘stache on this guy…

But it also meant that in scanning through I looked at this strategically placed dragonfly close up (sensitive readers should avert their eyes).

That’s not a dragonfly; that is a giant transparent leech with wings and a face.  It could eat a cat.

There is also this dog hanging around, probably thinking it has died and gone to Fresh Meat heaven.

This painting features a lot of impressive aerial acrobatics.  Here is just one example to demonstrate the kind of questions they raise.

Why is the one guy grabbing the other one?  Does he think it will break his fall?  Also why is he awkwardly grabbing his own head?  Is it just to show off his massive biceps mid-fall?  Is that a dragon back there?

Finally, I think this guy is my favorite.  His expression pretty much sums up my reaction to this painting.

I wonder if this is what the Weather Girls had in mind?

What This Painting Needs Is More Naked Ladies

Dear readers, recently an anonymous reader suggested I look into the works of Paul Delvaux.  Delvaux is a 20^th century painter, and thus much more modern than the usual fare here, but it’s important to follow up on anonymous tips in the rough world of art reviewing.  So, I dove into Wikipaintings to see what I could find.

Paul Delvaux was a Belgian surrealist.  We all know how those Belgian surrealists can be.  Unlike James Ensor, however, Delvaux seems fairly straightforward in his interests.  Specifically, nude women.

Early on we get some pretty standard nudes.

Reclining Nude

 

Your basic naked lady on a couch. 

There are other images where having all the women naked wouldn’t be how I would have envisioned it, but it’s fair enough in the situation.

The Courtesans

Ok, so a bunch of courtesans.  Normally they would be out and about clothed, but maybe this is their annual nude beach party.  It looks like the courtesan health care package even includes free breast exams by another naked lady, reducing the self-consciousness of the patient alone being topless.

Then there are some where it seems like the law would have been involved.

A Visit

So…uh…we can still give him the benefit of the doubt…maybe this is a nudist household, and they are all naked all the time so there is nothing odd here.  And the lady is gesturing to her breasts invitingly because she’s one of those mothers that breastfeeds her children until they’re 18.  Totally natural and not creepy…

But then he starts taking normal scenes and just adding naked women to them for no apparent reason.

Salut

“Oh, hi George.  Sorry, can’t chat, must dash to catch the bus down there.” 

This trend gets more obvious than this.

Astronomers

Some stuffy old astronomers debate lunar physics or something.  Also NAKED LADIES.

The Tunnel

Everyone is wandering around, waiting for their trains and chatting.  And a couple of women forgot their clothes.  Also there’s a creepy girl in a mirror who I assume is the Belgian version of the girl in “The Ring.”  Typical day at the train station!

The Congress

No one in the Congress observes the line of nubile young women lined up in the chamber.  They’re just debating away, probably thinking, “Man, it’s warm in here.  I knew we shouldn’t have approved the plan to lower heating costs by insulating the walls with women!

In conclusion, Delvaux’s style seems not unlike the thought process of the typical teenage boy: everything is better with naked ladies.