"Escaping Criticism," Pere
Borrell del Caso, Catalan, 1874. Oil on canvas from the
collection of the Banco de Espana, Madrid.
Five Centuries of Trompe l'Oeil Painting
By A.L. Dunnington
WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Deception is a despicable thing: It breaks
trust, destroys relationships, and brands the deceivers as less
than honorable, at best. Unless the deceivers are masters of
trompe l'oeil -- in which case, the very opposite applies.
Astonished by the artistry that so tricked and teased the viewer
into believing something is that is not, the deceived is left
with a marveling thrill once the ruse is revealed. Viewers have
an opportunity for many such thrills in ": Five Centuries of
Trompe l'Oeil Painting," on exhibit at the National Gallery of
Art (NGA). More than 100 works have been assembled in a show that
claims to be the most comprehensive exhibit ever organized on the
subject.
"Throughout the ages, trompe l'oeil has always been one of the
most popular genres while, at the same time, engaging some of the
best artists in its challenges," said Earl A. Powell III,
director, National Gallery of Art. The show includes examples
from artists as diverse as Titian (Venetian, circa 1490-1576),
Pablo Picasso (Spanish, 1881-1973) and Roy Lichtenstein
(American, 1923-1997).
Trompe l'oeil, a French term that means "eye-deceiver," refers to
a centuries-old form of painting that so successfully imitates
its subject, the viewer believes it is real.
"With successful painted trompe l'oeils...art retreats behind its
product and denies itself," writes guest curator Sybille
Ebert-Schifferer in the exhibition catalog. "...[I]t is the sense
of touch alone that allows us to differentiate between the modes
of nature and art. We retain the constant of sensory interaction
along with the pleasure we feel in successfully unmasking a
deception."
"Open Missal," Ludger tom Ring, the Younger, German, circa
1570. Oil on oak panel transferred to masonite from the
collection of the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center, Vassar
College.
Ebert-Schifferer, director at the Bibliotheca Hertziana, Max
Planck Institute for Art History, Rome, became enamored of
Nineteenth Century American trompe l'oeil paintings nearly two
decades ago. When she learned a trompe l'oeil exhibit was being
considered by NGA, she joined forces with the museum to organize
"." Ebert-Schifferer, together with NGA's coordinating curator
Franklin Kelly, senior curator, American and British paintings,
and other members of NGA, developed an exhibit designed to
educate and entertain viewers, drawing them through a history and
exploration of a genre whose roots reach back to antiquity.
The show's prologue presents the genesis of trompe l'oeil,
wrapped in a tale told by Roman author Pliny the Elder: the
ancient Greek artist Zeuxis was able to paint grapes so lifelike,
birds tried to eat them. His ability to fool even nature itself
established him as the standard bearer for perfect imitation of
the natural world.
Flushed with his success, Zeuxis entered into a competition with
rival artist Parrhasios. When Parrhasios displayed a picture
obscured by a curtain, Zeuxis tried to draw the drape to view the
painting beneath. Upon realizing the curtain was in fact a
painting, and that he, the master, had been deceived, Zeuxis
conceded the prize to Parrhasios.
Both stories led to a rash of grape and curtain paintings
centuries later, particularly by Seventeenth Century still life
Dutch painters seeking to wrest the title of "the Dutch
Parrhasios."
Also harking to ancient traditions were Pompeian still lifes and
Roman mosaics depicting foods provided to guests that indicated
the host's status and hospitality. Paintings of these gifts,
called xenia, focused especially on game birds. Centuries
later, when hunting was considered an aristocratic pastime,
Renaissance painters looked back to the ancients for inspiration
in paintings that created the illusion of dead game hanging off
walls.
French painter Jean-Baptiste Oudry's lushly realistic series of
trompe l'oeil hunting trophies painted for Louis XV earned Oudry
the title of best in its genre.
But in the Nineteenth Century, American painter William Michael
Harnett poked fun at the game bird tradition with "Plucked
Clean," 1882, oil on canvas, a trompe l'oeil of a defeathered
chicken unceremoniously hung by one foot off a piece of twine.
Then there were the fly paintings: A well-known story had it that
Giotto (circa 1266-1337) painted flies on paintings that were so
realistic, his master tried to shoo them away.
This led to a frenzy of Giotto-competitors, especially in the
mid-1400 to early 1500s, who included realistic depictions of
flies on everything from illuminated manuscripts to religious
paintings. This, however, also signified a sea change in
Fourteenth Century thought: no detail of nature was considered
too small to bear witness to the magnificence of God's creation,
and close observation of the natural world revolutionized both
science and art.
With this background laid down, the viewer progresses through the
exhibit's six main sections.
The first, "Temptation for the Hand," explores how flat objects
such as letters and drawings were made to appear so real a viewer
felt compelled to smooth wrinkled papers, organize a disordered
surface - or even turn the pages of a book, as in Ludger tom Ring
The Younger's "Open Missal," circa 1570, oil on panel.
More than a century later, Edward Collyer's "Trompe L'Oeil,"
1703, oil on canvas, continued the concept with an assemblage of
everyday objects, such as a comb, quill pen and razor - along
with written texts, symbolic of the wider realm of knowledge --
held in place beneath three straps.
Beyond being simply ultrarealistic depictions of familiar
subjects, trompe l'oeils often contained subtexts symbolic of the
artist's own philosophical, political and personal views of life.
Lynn Russell, writing about Collyer's work in the exhibit
catalog, observes: "A magnifying glass placed over the text ...
seems to be a witty comment on the importance of intense visual
scrutiny ... As a subtle reminder that truth does not lie in
appearances, a watch hangs from a golden chain, suggesting the
passage of time and thus the transience of all earthly events,
even those with international significance -- such as the ones
reflected in this painting."
American artist John Haberle expanded on the wit inherent in
trompe l'oeil. In "Imitation," 1887, oil on canvas, Haberle's
painting of money was so realistic that it was said to have been
praised by William Michael Harnett, whose own 1877 painting of a
five dollar bill had reputedly prompted the FBI to arrest the
artist on counterfeiting charges.
The second section, "Things on the Wall," considers how
three-dimensional objects painted on a flat surface are most
likely to deceive if the subject is set in a familiar
environment.
"Violin Suspended from a Peg," after 1674, oil on canvas mounted
on panel attributed to Jan van der Vaart, appears to be a violin
hanging from a door, and was said to have "deceived everybody,"
according to Eighteenth Century art critic Horace Walpole.
American painter John Frederick Peto's "For the Track," 1895, oil
on canvas, paints a realistic worn green door with rusted hinges
as the back drop for his composition of horse racing
paraphernalia -- a jockey's cap, riding crop, betting stubs, a
race track announcement.
"Whatever specific meanings it may hold, 'For the Track' clearly
references one of still life painting's most enduring themes, the
passage of time and the transience of earthly things," writes
NGA's Franklin Kelly.
Next, in "Niches, Cupboards, Cabinets," the challenge of painting
three-dimensional objects in three-dimensional spaces is
explored: creating an illusion of space so credible that only
reaching into the painted surface could convince a viewer it was
not real.
Peto's "Poor Man's Store," 1885, oil on canvas, presents a
display window with food, candies and toys that tempt viewers to
touch the items for sale. In fact, the work was likely shown in
upper crust galleries whose viewers were unlikely to shop at such
a store. Writes NGA's Kelly: "Peto's paintings encouraged viewers
to contemplate not just their implied physical spaces, but also
their potential psychological associations. The fun and games of
illusionism, then, could also have served to encourage an
understanding of, and sympathy for, those who were less
fortunate."
American artist Charles Willson Peale's "Staircase Group," 1795,
oil on canvas, is included in the fourth section, "In and Out of
the Picture," which considers ways boundaries are confused
between real and imagined spaces. One story claims that when
shown at the Peale Museum, George Washington was so convinced by
the work that he bowed to its painted figures; at the base of the
stairs is a painting of the subscription ticket to Peale's
Museum, curling off the floor.
Particularly winsome is Catalan artist Pere Borrell del Caso's
"Escaping Criticism," 1874, oil on canvas, in which a youth
escapes from a picture frame.
Janis Tomlinson, writing in the exhibit catalog, observes: "The
painting recalls the plight of contemporary artists as much as it
does the realist tradition in Spanish literature in which
picaresque heroes...narrowly escape from danger," adding that it
calls on a "...literary genre in which the outcast
protagonist/author appeals directly to the reader in telling his
tale."
In the fifth section, "The Painting as Object," the whole
painting fools the eye, exemplified in two paintings by American
John Haberle (1856-1933). "Clock," undated, oil on canvas, was so
realistic that trompe l'oeil scholar Alfred Frankenstein
reputedly mistook it several times for the real thing.
Similarly, Haberle's picture of a picture, "Torn in Transit,"
1890-1895, oil on canvas, convinces viewers that they are truly
seeing a painting partially unwrapped from its packing materials.
"As the artist challenged his audience to determine art from
artifice, he also construed the spectator as the recipient of the
painting," writes catalog contributor Wendy Bellion, adding that
Haberle even painted a torn COD (cash on delivery) label,
"...thereby implying that spectatorship, like trompe l'oeil
artistry, had a price."
The exhibit's final segment, "The Object As Art," explores the
influence of trompe l'oeil on modern art, examining what happens
when the definition of art is pushed to include actual material
objects in the works, as well as presenting ordinary objects
themselves as art.
"Homage to a Parrot," S.S. David (De Scott Evans?), circa 1890.
Oil on canvas from the collection Fresno Metropolitan Museum of
Art, History and Science.
Claes Oldenburg's "Glass Case with Pies," 1962, burlap soaked in
plaster, painted with enamel, with pie tins, in glass-enamel
case, is simply a recreation of a vintage pie case. Speaking of
his art in a 1965 interview, Oldenburg said: "What I want to do
is create an independent object which has its existence in a
world outside of both the real world as we know it and the world
of art...My intention is to make an everyday object that eludes
definition."
Roy Lichtenstein's "Things on the Wall," 1973, oil and magna on
canvas, borrows from and caricatures the trompe l'oeil genre.
Here, states Claudia Bohn-Spector in the exhibition catalog,
Lichtenstein emulates masters such as Peto and Harnett with a
composition of "...unrelated, everyday objects on a flat plane.
Unlike his predecessors, however, he deliberately rejects
illusionistic effects by reducing his things to a few glyphic
outlines..." Lichtenstein's collection of sundries references
trompe l'oeil's predilection for everyday objects, and includes
such items as cartoonishly drawn paintbrushes, a torn envelope,
an abstract painting - even a reference to Giotto's famed fly.
While debates have raged as to whether trompe l'oeil painting
represents mere technical skill, lacking depth and imagination,
or a sophisticated and ironic mode that plays with the very
nature of perception and the workings of the brain, one might
argue that a genre that has persisted since antiquity and counts
artists from Titian to Picasso among its practitioners has surely
established itself as a serious art form -- as well as one that
happens to be serious fun.
As Ebert-Schifferer writes in the exhibition catalog, "I hope
that all of the works in the exhibition will at once enlighten
and delight visitors."
In the end, trompe l'oeil is a deception and illusion that not
only works a certain antic magic, but provokes us to reassess our
perceptions, whatever the century, whomever the viewer.
": Five Centuries of Trompe l'Oeil Painting" runs through
March 2 at the National Gallery of Art, located on the National
Mall, between 3rd and 9th Streets at Constitution Avenue, NW. For
information, 202-737-4215 or www.nga.gov.
