Getty Art + Ideas

"It became Hoefnagel’s task to think of illuminations that were every bit as extraordinary as this amazing writing."

The exquisite Renaissance manuscript Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta, or Monument of Miraculous Calligraphy, is the result of a unique partnership between two different artists working thirty years apart. From 1561 to 1562 the master calligrapher Georg Bocskay created a book in which he demonstrated hundreds of elaborate scripts in many different languages and alphabets. More than fifteen years after Bocskay’s death, the artist Joris Hoefnagel illuminated the pages with lifelike and wondrous illustrations of plants and insects from around the world. Many of the species he depicted were newly known in Europe, reflecting a recent increase in the global exchange of goods and information.

In this episode, retired Getty senior curator of drawings Lee Hendrix discusses how Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta exemplifies Renaissance attitudes toward art, science, and knowledge. Hendrix coauthored the introduction to a facsimile volume, which is now back in print after more than a decade through Getty Publications.

For images, transcripts, and more, visit getty.edu/podcasts.

We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. These recordings feature stories related to our daily lives.

This week, curatorial research assistant Alex Jones is reminded of his grandmother by a photograph of a Black woman at a 1965 civil rights protest. To view this work visit: https://blogs.getty.edu/iris/reflections-alex-jones-on-charles-brittin/. To learn more about this photography, visit: http://blogs.getty.edu/iris/an-activists-view-of-the-civil-rights-movement/.

Over the next few weeks, look for new recordings every other Tuesday.

Transcript

JAMES CUNO: Hi, I’m Jim Cuno, president of the J. Paul Getty Trust. We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. This week Alex Jones discusses a photograph by Charles Brittin.

ALEX JONES: Hello, my name is Alex Jones. I am a curatorial research assistant in modern and contemporary collections at the Getty Research Institute.

As part of my work with the GRI’s African American Art History Initiative, I research historical and visual representations of Black experience within our special collections. When COVID first hit, just weeks before thousands across the US marched to demand racial justice, I encountered this 1965 image by the photographer Charles Brittin.

This is an unsettling image, to say the least. A young black woman in simple yet elegant attire is dragged by several white men across a city sidewalk. Her clothes highlight the woman’s youthful charm: a plaid skirt and blouse draped by a chic shearling jacket, punctuated by the stylish flair of white heels. Instead of showing faces, though, the image focuses on hands, and limbs, and entangled bodies. The white men’s hands firmly grip the woman’s bicep and wrist, which lead downward to her limp and contorted figure as her head falls back behind her. In the end, it is an exquisite shot of the exceptional violence that Black women regularly face in confrontations with police.     

I don’t know who this woman is—her name is not mentioned in the official record—but her struggle here underscores the critical role that Black women play in the Civil Rights Movement. In this case, on March 11th, 1965, thousands gathered at the steps of the Federal Building in one of the largest protests in Los Angeles history. The events of Bloody Sunday in Selma, Alabama, just days before, sent shockwaves through the US, igniting powerful responses from Americans in cities and towns across the country. In Los Angeles, local activists—many of them Black women and men—took to the streets to demand justice in their own city.

At first when I saw this picture, I thought of my grandmother—had she witnessed or endured a similar situation as a younger woman? In the late 1950s as a college student, she and her peers at the Atlanta University Center organized some of the city’s first Civil Rights and anti-segregation actions, often coming toe-to-toe with local police.

This woman in the photograph reminds me of the Spelman women in my grandmother’s yearbooks—young black women from around the US who spent their early adulthood fighting for racial equality.

Like many young Black Americans today, I envision or imagine the Civil Rights Movement through alternating images of heroics and horror; of Black people who dared to lay their lives on the line for far-belated justice and white police officers and civilians who seemed intent on denying that future.

Brittin’s photograph returns me to these histories—and my connection to them through my grandmother—giving me a renewed perspective. But it also leaves me somewhat ambivalent. Though Brittin’s photograph documents the endurance of Black Americans in the struggle for justice, the longand continuousmovements for Civil Rights that persist to this day remind me that the sacrifices embodied by this woman, my grandmother, and countless others have yet been reciprocated. Instead, we continue to fight against the inequality that their protest and their bodies laid bare.

CUNO: To view Charles Brittin’s 1965 photographs of the CORE protest at the Los Angeles Federal Building, click the link in this episode’s description or look for it on blogs.getty.edu/iris.

With an artistic career that began with political cartoons in his college newspaper, Romare Bearden moved between mediums and styles throughout his life, although his artistic breakthroughs did not come without hard work. Over the course of a long career that spanned a tumultuous period in the fight for representation and civil rights for African Americans in the United States, Bearden became a deeply influential artist. Art historian Mary Schmidt Campbell delves into Bearden’s fascinating life and career in her new book An American Odyssey: The Life and Work of Romare Bearden, which is the topic of this podcast episode.

Campbell is President of Spelman College and Dean Emerita of the Tisch School of the Arts. She served as the vice chair of the President’s Committee on the Arts and Humanities under former president Barack Obama. Campbell joined the J. Paul Getty Trust Board of Trustees in 2019.

For images, transcripts, and more, visit getty.edu/podcasts.

We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. These recordings feature stories related to our daily lives.

This week, educator Laura Gavilán Lewis considers what it means to be separated from her loved ones as she looks at a portrait of Zénaïde and Charlotte Bonaparte. To learn more about this work, visit: https://www.getty.edu/art/collection/objects/802/.

Over the next few weeks, look for new recordings every other Tuesday.

Transcript

JAMES CUNO: Hi, I’m Jim Cuno, president of the J. Paul Getty Trust. We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. This week Laura Gavilán Lewis discusses a portrait by Jacques-Louis David.

Hemos pedido al personal del Getty que compartan con nosotros sus reflexiones personales sobre las obras de arte, en tanto que nos podrían contar historias acerca de nuestra vida diaria.

Esta semana, Laura Gavilán Lewis del departamento de educación habla de su experiencia de separación de sus seres queridos a través de un retrato de Zénaïde y Charlotte Bonaparte. Para aprender más de esta pintura, visite: https://www.getty.edu/art/collection/objects/ 802 /.

Transcripción

Laura Gavilán Lewis: Mi nombre es Laura Gavilán Lewis del Departamento de Educación del Museo. Aquí les presento mis pensamientos sobre un bella pintura titulada: Retrato de las Hermanas Zenaïde y Charlotte Bonaparte, pintada por el artista francés, Jacques-Louis David, en 1821.

También encontrará disponible la versión en inglés de este episodio en nuestra plataforma de podcast.

Vivir lejos de nuestros seres queridos es siempre difícil pero más en tiempos de adversidad.

La pandemia actual ha puesto de relieve la separación física de los seres queridos en el mundo entero, pero quizá más agudamente para los inmigrantes que cuentan con viajar para visitar a familiares en sus respectivos países.

Yo he vivido en los Estados Unidos ya muchos años, pero la añoranza que siento por mi familia y mi país siempre está presente.

Antes de la pandemia me era fácil pensar que podía superar la distancia en cualquier momento. Pudiendo tomar un avión y que en 3 horas estaría en la Ciudad de México físicamente cercana a mis familiars. Siempre procuraba tener el próximo viaje agendado. Por así decirlo y eso me daba ánimos para sentir menos la distancia hasta la siguiente visita.

Encontré inspiracion para esta reflexión viendo este bello retrato de dos hermanas separadas de su padre por circunstancias fuera de su control.

Se trata de Zenaide y Charlotte Bonaparte sobrinas de Napoleón el emperador de Francia.

La familia Bonaparte fue exiliada ante la caída del Imperio y Estas dos hermanas permanecieron con su madre en Bruselas mientras que su padre Joseph partió para los Estados Unidos con la intención de Buscar apoyo y restituir a su hermano Napoleón En el poder pasando muchos años sin regresar a Europa.

El artista Jacques-Louis David, cómo era amigo de la familia, fue también exiliado en Bruselas.

Las dos hermanas están sentados al lado una de la otra casi abrazándose. Zenaide siendo la mayor está al frente y sostiene una carta con el brazo izquierdo extendido, mientras Charlotte que está sentada detrás de su hermana se asoma entre curiosa y temerosa, pero protegida finalmente.

En la parte superior de la carta una sola palabra se puede leer claramente, Filadelfia, un sutil detalle de parte del artista para indicar que la carta proviene de su padre que está lejos. Vestidos con lujosos atuendos una en terciopelo negro con encajes y la otra en satín azul reluciente. Ambas lucen en sus cabellos diademas con piedras preciosas que insinúan su rango aristocrático ofreciendo así indicios de que aún en el exilio continúan gozando de lujo, del confort y el privilegio.

De esta manera reflexionó sobre mi propia fortuna. El privilegio de poder viajar a mi país todos estos años sin restricciones ni amenazas claramente ha sido un regalo. Algo que siempre di por hecho y que jamás hubiera imaginado que una pandemia nivel mundial pudiera en pedirme regresar.

Noto en las expresiones de estas jóvenes, un aire de melancolía y de vulnerabilidad, además de cierta añoranza de reunirse con su padre. Pero también noto su fortaleza valentía y entereza.

Así como ellas trato de apoyarme en estas virtudes mientras espero pacientemente poder planear mi próximo viaje a México para ir a ver a mi familia y amigos y nuevamente abrazarlos.

Si desea aprender mas de este pintura, haga click en el enlace que describe en este episodio o visite el sitio getty.edu/art/collection

"I still cannot believe why the people all around the world—the public people, I mean, the governments or UNESCO, the UN, the others involved in the culture or in humanity—why they do nothing to preserve Palmyra, to stop the attack of the militants of Daesh."

By the 3rd century CE, the ancient city of Palmyra, also known as Tadmur in Arabic, was a global crossroads, where caravans from Mesopotamia, Persia, China, Rome, and Europe exchanged both goods and beliefs. During the Roman era, Palmyra flourished, with its unique, cosmopolitan culture reflected in elaborately decorated buildings and monuments. That ancient legacy continues today; Palmyrene residents maintained their culture and identity while living alongside well-preserved archeological ruins for centuries. Tragically, in 2015, ISIS militants destroyed many of those important historic sites, including the Temple of Bel. There are no firm plans yet for restoring the ruins and surrounding municipality as the Syrian civil war drags on.

In this episode, Waleed al-As’ad, former director of antiquities and museums at Palmyra, discusses the ancient and the contemporary city, as well as the possible future for the site. His father, Khaled al-As’ad, preceded him as director and was publicly executed for refusing to cooperate with ISIS. Waleed is currently living in France, a refugee of Syria’s civil war. This conversation coincides with the relaunch of the Getty Research Institute’s online exhibition Return to Palmyra, which features a written interview with Waleed.

For images, transcripts, and more, visit getty.edu/podcasts.

We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. These recordings feature stories related to our daily lives.

This week, metadata specialist Kelly Davis longs for a hike in the Sierras as she views an 1871 photograph by Timothy O'Sullivan. To learn more about this work, visit: https://www.getty.edu/art/collection/objects/40204/.

Over the next few weeks, look for new recordings every other Tuesday.

Transcript

JAMES CUNO: Hi, I’m Jim Cuno, president of the J. Paul Getty Trust. We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. This week Kelly Davis discusses a Timothy O'Sullivan photograph.

"He was a great artistic personality, crucial for the development, in some way, of what we think as the modern science. But he was not alone."

Leonardo da Vinci died more than 500 years ago, but he is still revered as a genius polymath who painted beguiling compositions like the Mona Lisa, avidly studied the natural sciences, and created designs and inventions in thousands of journal pages. Even during Leonardo’s lifetime, contemporaries marveled at the artist’s great skill and wide-ranging pursuits, but many also noted his perfectionism and difficulty completing projects. Since his death, the legends surrounding his life and personality have continued to grow. Today Leonardo’s story inspires novels and his work brings record-breaking prices, demonstrating his enduring relevance and mystique.

In this episode, Getty curator Davide Gasparotto discusses early accounts of Leonardo’s life and how they shaped our understanding of the artist. Passages from these biographies were recently collected in the Getty Publications book Lives of Leonardo da Vinci.

For images, transcripts, and more, visit getty.edu/podcasts.

We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. These recordings feature stories related to our daily lives.

This week, curator Casey Lee reminisces on learning to crochet and sew as she considers a 17th century drawing by Gerard ter Borch of a young girl making lace. To learn more about this work, visit: www.getty.edu/art/collection/objects/285052/.

Over the next few weeks, look for new recordings every other Tuesday.

Transcript

JAMES CUNO: Hi, I’m Jim Cuno, president of the J. Paul Getty Trust. We’ve asked members of the Getty community to share short, personal reflections on works of art they’re thinking about right now. This week Casey Lee discusses a drawing by Gerard ter Borch.

“We’re proud that Los Angeles, which is a city that’s sometimes derided as a city that doesn’t care about its history or doesn’t care about historic preservation, we think we’re finally exploding that myth once and for all.”

In 1962 Los Angeles passed one of the first and most forward-thinking historic preservation ordinances in the United States, which called for a complete survey of the city to identify cultural monuments. Nearly 40 years later, however, the Getty Conservation Institute (GCI) found that only 15 percent of the city’s 465 square miles and 880,000 legal parcels had been assessed. A few years after that, the city created the Office of Historic Resources and, together with the GCI, organized a citywide survey of landmarks. They cataloged everything from architecturally significant buildings to iconic plants and natural features to sites of historic events for many of the city’s ethnic and racial communities. The website HistoricPlacesLA, built on the GCI’s open-source Arches platform, makes these findings available to the public and provides a resource for city planners, researchers, movie producers, and residents.

In this episode, Ken Bernstein, principal city planner and manager at the Office of Historic Resources, City of Los Angeles, and Tim Whalen, the John E. and Louise Bryson Director of the Getty Conservation Institute, discuss the importance of documenting LA’s cultural heritage, the process involved in this work, and the value of ongoing surveys of the city.

For images, transcripts, and more, visit getty.edu/podcasts.