Reviews
exotic to the everyday/The ethnographic
exhibition in Germany’, specifically to
‘promote fresh discussion of nineteenthcentury visual culture’. The other essays in
this section all offer scope for visual culture
through art history: for example, Linda
Nochlin’s ‘The imaginary orient’, which
takes as its starting point the 1982 exhibition ‘Orientalism: The Near East in French
Painting, 1800–1880’ and questions ‘the
recent spate of revisionist or expansionist
exhibitions of nineteenth-century art’.
As expressed in their preface, Schwartz
and Przyblyski have focused on ‘objects
consumed for their image-value and the
institutions that facilitated such looking’
(e.g. photographs, exhibitions, advertising), rather than ‘the rich visual culture of
such things as quilts and teacups which
surely shaped visual experience as well’.
Quilts and teacups are perhaps a mistaken
example to use here, as their visual and
symbolic importance in the nineteenth
century could well have been included, but
one understands that the cutting-off line
had to be drawn somewhere. The general
topics are broken down into individual case
studies so that we come away feeling we
have absorbed some fascinating details
about a variety of subjects. The coherent
and cohering thread of visual impact runs
throughout the book and allows some
interesting juxtaposing of essays: for example, the Colonial Office Visual Instruction Committee’s ‘empire-wide scheme of
lantern-slide lectures’ in education (James
R Ryan, ‘On visual instruction’) is set
alongside the use of advertising by the
newly founded Selfridge’s (Erika Rappaport, ‘A new era of shopping’).
From Part Three onwards, most of the
essays carry illustrations. It actually comes
as a surprise that there are 78 in total
because the initial impression of the book
implies such a density of text, but a flick
through serves to reiterate the range of
subjects covered: to cite but a few, stereoscopes, phantasmagoria, Vienna, California, Buffalo Bill, suffragettes, slaves;
Cézanne, Gérôme, Van Gogh and Willette.
Part One, ‘Visual culture and disciplinary
practices’, is headed by an essay by the
editors and provides the bridge between the
nineteenth century and contemporary visual
culture studies, which, after all, as a discipline did not then exist. The other two essays
here, both new, explore the role of the visual
as it is perceived and may be exploited
within other disciplines; they draw the reader further into the issues raised by posing
many questions. Part Two, ‘Genealogies’,
offers extracts from seven essays which, if
not actually published in the nineteenth
century, were written by men born into it
and who all explore and demonstrate an
awareness of visual experience: Baudelaire,
Marx, Freud, Simmel, Riegl, Kracauer and
finally Benjamin, whose role as one of the
forefathers of visual culture studies is made
very clear by the number of times he is cited
throughout the book. The remaining 28
essays are then divided thematically into
Parts Three to Eight, each part being introduced by the editors.
One aspect that is particularly rewarding about this book is that it takes topics
which had all gathered momentum in
the nineteenth century, such as the new
technologies of the railways or photography; urbanisation; emancipation; museums and exhibitions; advertising; and
more, and requires the reader to regard
them anew. Aspects are highlighted
which might otherwise be overlooked
both because of their normality then
(such as the Parisian portière or prostitution), or our contemporary acceptance
of a status quo and therefore our need
to be reminded of the extraordinary
power of nineteenth-century innovations (such as electric signs, travelling by
train, urban expansion or even the fear
engendered by lantern slides and cinema).
This makes it a compelling read for someone with a general interest in the nineteenth century, as well as a bridge for
interdisciplinary research. At the same
time, it is a book to be absorbed slowly,
if its richness of content is to be fully
appreciated.
marjorie corner
The Open University
NORTHERN RENAISSANCE ART
james snyder
Pearson Prentice Hall 2005 (2nd Edn) d40.99 $75.99
578 pp. 255 colour/415 mono illus
isbn 0-13-189564-8
hinking of the later medieval art of
northern Europe conjures up images
of a certain type: Jan van Eyck’s muchloved Arnolfini Wedding, combining everyday
detail with a scientific gaze that prefigures
Vermeer; the demure aristocratic Madonnas of Rogier van der Weyden in their
T
enclosed gardens; Hieronymus Bosch’s
strange visions of the hereafter populated
by animated combinations of plant, animal and kitchenware; and the application
of German sensibilities to the scope of
Italian Renaissance thinking in Dürer’s
oeuvre. Art of this kind, particularly the small
rich paintings produced in what would become the Netherlands and Belgium, attracts
large audiences on the infrequent occasions when exhibitions of it are organised.
It is ironic, given that a large proportion of
these works can be reproduced at life-size
in coffee-table books, that more has not
been published on the subject.
It is thus very important that when
these books are written, they are written
well. James Snyder has written a book
(first published 1985) crammed full of
pictures, covering the entire range of
northern European art production from
the last flowering of the International
Gothic to the first stirrings of Baroque
sensibility. It includes sculpture and tapestry as well as paintings, and is both
informed and informative; subject and
object alike are treated with sensitivity, and
the author pays heed to the need of the art
under consideration to be shown as part of
culture as a whole. With these characteristics, why is Northern Renaissance Art such
an unsatisfying read?
Part of the answer lies in the book’s
strictly chronological sequence: we are led
from early fourteenth-century Bohemia to
the late sixteenth-century Netherlands as if
on a school trip around a particularly large
gallery. There are no diversions or tempting side-rooms, nothing to distract us
from the beaten track, and Snyder’s single
unexpected card, the unusual inclusion of
Bohemia as a starting point, is played far
too early owing to the demands of this
chronology. On this excursion we have all
been allowed our packed lunches too soon
and as a result may become tired later on.
The second factor in rendering Northern
Renaissance Art such a stodgy meal is its
similarity to many of the less-inspired
paintings discussed and, ironically, its
differences from some of the best. Snyder’s
technique of describing much of the detail
in most of the images is at first illuminating, but after the first couple of chapters
the descriptions fit together to create not a
glittering multi-faceted set of observations,
but a flat surface rather like lace under
glass. The details are all there, and many
of them are fascinating, but the effect is
spoiled by the impenetrability of the sur-
volume 12 issue 2 may 2005 r bpl/aah The Art Book
37
Reviews
face. Jan van Eyck’s paintings, for example
the Altarpiece of the Lamb (1432, Cathedral of
St Bavo, Ghent), with its characterised
individuals and depth of feeling, its translucent highlights of oil colours, could for
the sake of analogy usefully be contrasted
with Stephan Lochner’s Last Judgement
(1435,Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne).
Lochner’s work is much flatter and more
dense than Van Eyck’s, and this painting in
particular has none of the fluidity of surface
of its counterparts further west. Snyder’s
writing is neat and informative, but has a
uniformity of tone so that the very few
exclamations of interest seem odd and out
of place.
Comparison is not something that
Snyder seems particularly comfortable
with, unless it involves comparing paintings to the standards set by Van Eyck and,
in particular, Rogier van der Weyden.
These two are obvious favourites, and the
largest central section of Northern Renaissance Art (entitled ‘Fifteenth-century innovations’) is dominated by them. After a
brief discussion of Germany and Switzerland, Van Eyck is introduced and takes
pride of place in the first half of the section
with his undeniably impressive works,
numbering among them the Van der Paele
Madonna of 1436 in Bruges’ Groeninge
Museum and several portraits, from
whose dark velvet backgrounds stare remarkably self-contained individuals. Following Van Eyck, Rogier (he is referred
to, as all artists credited with being
somehow greater than their times are, by
his first name alone) makes his entrance,
and proceeds to dominate the art world
with his tall and refined nobles, and his
ability to make individuals appear both
stylised and life-like at once.
For most of the book, Snyder’s chapters
read like a series of lectures placed
together in chronological order: no attempt is made to relate sections to any
others, all of them functioning as selfcontained worlds much like the images
they describe. It is only in the chapters on
the most famous artists (Van Eyck, Van der
Weyden, Bosch, Dürer, Brueghel) that a
sense of a larger artistic life is seen. To be
fair to Snyder, the vast majority of the work
he discusses is quite obscure and the
artists more so. Many of them have no
more individual identity than ‘Master of
the. . .’ work in question. The little we do
know of them is presented skilfully, but the
thought cannot be suppressed that some
of them would have been better left un-
38
The Art Book
mentioned rather than exposing such tiny
tantalising details. This would have given
Snyder room to elaborate further upon the
background to the growing Italian influence on northern Europe, touched on in
his Dürer chapter but given a relatively
small section at the end of the book.
Yet Snyder’s text makes an extremely
good reference book for the entirety of the
period it covers. There cannot be many
painters, sculptors, manuscript illuminators or tapestry weavers that it does not
refer to, however briefly, and the index is
comprehensive. Students of northern Renaissance art in search of an image will
probably find it in the seven hundred or so
selected by Snyder; there are also maps
of the many centres of art production
throughout Europe and a timeline showing
artistic advances in relation to other fields
of endeavour. A sense of how the artists of
this time related to one another is, however,
relegated to discussions of workshops, or
on a few occasions their meetings. Despite
such a long text, the burgeoning world of
the print is left relatively unexplored in
favour of biography, and woodcuts and
engravings appear only fleetingly.
This is not to say that Northern Renaissance Art is a bad book, or even that its
merits in comparison with others on the
same period make it unworthy of attention. It is a text of its time, and that was a
time when the relationships between art
and the rest of the world were not pursued
with the same vigour as they are now.
Snyder’s words are well written, but they
are not an engaging read.
matt cambridge
Freelance Art Historian, Edinburgh
RADICAL ART: PRINTMAKING AND
THE LEFT IN 1930s NEW YORK
helen langa
University of California Press 2004 d36.95 $55.00
345 pp. 104 mono illus
isbn 0520231554
n Radical Art: Printmaking and the Left
in 1930s New York, Helen Langa offers the
most extensive overview to date of
American printmaking during the Great
Depression and the New Deal. She makes
an excellent case for the need for such a
study; because printing was relatively
inexpensive, it made art as affordable and
I
volume 12 issue 2 may 2005 r bpl/aah
accessible to the public as was realistically
possible during the worst economic crisis
in American history, and many artists
produced prints hoping to make collectors
out of ordinary people. Many of these
prints depicted the lives and problems
of factory labourers, miners, construction
workers, African Americans, the unemployed and the homeless with great
compassion and journalistic acuity. Some
artists used prints to condemn the spreading totalitarianism and political instability
that precipitated the Second World War.
However, in spite of the abundance of
prints made, much more attention has
been given to painting of the era.
The author’s explanation of the problems, using the terms ‘Social Realism’
and ‘social viewpoint art’, is a cogent,
helpful scrutiny of commonly used terminology in the study of American art of
the 1930s and how this period has been
traditionally understood, but it remains to
be seen if her new term will gain favour
with scholars. Langa’s extensive discussion
of the different organisations that supported the dissemination of prints, of the
connections between artists and left-wing
political organisations, and the differences
in ideas about appropriate subjects and
styles for prints is highly informative. She
reveals much about the problems that
artists encountered in resolving the competing goals of appealing to the public,
recording the harsh truths of contemporary life, and satisfying their desire for selfexpression and artistic creativity.
Langa’s decision to focus on New York
City, however, is curious, disappointing,
and unsubstantiated. It reinforces the
assumption that innovative art was made
only in the large cities of the northeast, particularly the presumptive capital
of American art, New York. This focus on
New York excludes many significant artists
who worked elsewhere. Without further
explanation, the reader falls back on
preconceived notions that New York was
the heart and soul of leftist politics and art
in 1930s’ America and that art in the rest of
the nation was inconsequential and provincial. Perceived divisions of religion, race
and political thought in the America of the
1930s are similarly reinforced. The irony of
Langa’s limited geographic scope is that
she frequently discusses artists who are
hardly typical, life-long New Yorkers, such
as Grant Wood, Thomas Hart Benton and
Diego Rivera, to clarify and reinforce aspects of her thesis. Langa discusses few