|Page 1 of 2:|| |
|Index||11 reviews in total|
The CARAVAGGIO episode was an outstanding 'Opener' to this DVD.
The acting and settings were both excitingly evocative and convincing. I was especially impressed with the way the sets were lit. Exactly as Caravaggio would have painted them. Darkly, with what light there was,coming from odd angles.
I thought Schama managed to pose the question. 'How do you reconcile how this man led his life, with his deeply religious paintings ' expertly, but have two complaints.
Caravaggio was known to have had several "Guardian Angels" who protected him for much of his life but they were not discussed in any detail in the episode. This would have added intrigue to an already highly mysterious subject. and I was surprised that Schama has either ignored or never heard of Peter Robb's enthralling biography, of Caravaggio, called 'M'
Mr Robb argued strongly, against the accepted version of the circumstances of Caravaggio's demise and convincingly suggested his death was a case of murder, arranged by powerful forces, to whom the painter had become an unacceptable embarrassment.
Schama's series is highly watchable, and I enjoyed his History of
Britain as well, but I must vehemently protest to his Bernini episode,
which is, admittedly, visually rich, masterly filmed - but Schama makes
the unforgivable mistake of basing his biographical material (which
takes up half of the episode) on 17th century muckraker Filippo
Baldinucci. Baldinucci, who aspired to be another Vasari, generously
lent his ear to all the most envious gossip about the artist, and he
went out of his way to be spectacular. Thus, we are treated to the
disgraceful story of a megalomaniac Bernini whose genius went to his
head, who nearly killed his own brother in a jealous rage, and arranged
for a bravo to slash the face of Costanza Bonarelli, Bernini's
unfaithful mistress, to ribbons, as Schama so vividly puts it. A
Bernini whom even his own mother detested. All of this, however, is
based on Baldinucci's low-minded attempt to vilify Bernini, and is
written, not as Schama seems to suggest, by a biographer who closely
followed his subject around in Rome, but by a biographer who was two
years old at the time of the Bonarelli scandal related in so vivid
details, and Baldinucci's scandalous book was not published until two
years after Bernini's death - for very good reasons. It is totally
inadmissible. Even the unsympathetic Pope Innocent X was forced to
exclaim: "They say bad things about Bernini, but he is a great and rare
man". Man - not only artist. For a truthful biography on Bernini, we
must go to Howard Hibbard (who carefully gleans from Baldinucci all
that is trustworthy). Among the despicable features of Bernini, Schama
& Baldinucci report that he never credited his co-workers - the people
doing the hard work for the artist - but which artist did?
Michelangelo? Rembrandt? Da Vinci? Certainly not. An art historian like
Schama should know that the artist was always turned into a brand name,
and never laid claim to wield the chisel or the brush himself.
It's a shame about Schama's episode, for his treatment of Bernini as an artist is admirable, and I do agree that Bernini - as Schama says - transcended dualism and deliberately put erotic aspects into his portraits of saints, simply to show a transport that people can relate to. But the biographical yellow press diatribe of the program, collected with immoderate glee from fishwife Baldinucci - really, historian Simon Schama ought to know better!
I saw 3 episodes of this series, the one on Bernini, Caravaggio and Rothko. The paintings are awesomely lit and Shama's observations are interesting and original but I could definitely go for less dramatization. The repeated shots of the Caravaggio's impersonator panting, sweating while fencing on his own are totally indulgent and don't add much to the story; the actor playing Rothko annoyingly trying to seem intense and interesting; these are unnecessary visuals that cheapen the content of the show. Do the producers think we need to see the artist's lives play-acted to engage us? Do they think their art is not enough for the viewer? I find that this approach is condescending and dumbs down the audience. The art, Shama's commentary and narration of the artist's history would have been excellent enough.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
Watching a documentary like this one you can't help but think of Schama
as a sort of English version of "Carl Sagan" for the artistically
curious. Although shot on a relatively big budget for this kind of
documentary with an impressive BBC collaboration of cinematography,
editing,and writing, subjectivity permeates the entire film. The choice
of works is compelling and to his credit Schama does offer deep and
powerful insights into the artists and art itself, but his own tastes
and biases become apparent the longer you watch. He seems to have a
slight disdain for the Italians and the French, and the portrayal of
Caravaggio was laughable, thrusting swords repeatedly into the camera
like a drugged, hippie freak. And calling Bernini a "bastard" for
avenging his mistress and brother without fully explaining the context
of the period he lived in is not exactly the professional tone of an
art historian. Schama then seems to gush over British Turner and
American Rothco unapologetically.
The re-enactments were very melodramatic (especially the music) and other performances that were over the top were Van Gogh in particular. All art is indeed subjective but when Schama tries to balance populism and academics the result can sometimes be a little shaky. He glosses over many important stories and works of the artists' lives confidently in search for a truth without admitting the art historian cannot accurately know everything about events that happened long ago. Art doesn't need to necessarily be political or propaganda-driven to be powerful, and anyone who watches this believing these eight works of art are the the most 'powerful' in history (according to Schama) would be hopelessly mistaken. But it is worth watching.
Simon Schama's delectably paradoxical look at some of the great names
in art uses a humanistic approach in viewing The Great Masters that at
once humbles their genius as flawed humans and exalts their glorious
talent. At once witty, sardonic, and sexy, Schama's approach to art
couples socio-historical scholarship with the pure joy in viewing
something that invigorates the eye, the brain and the heart.
The Power of Art utilizes Schama's wonderfully written narration he brings to so many of his BBC documentaries, as well as beautifully staged and acted mini-dramas to capture the artist's historical context.
By appealing to the everyman's enjoyment of beautiful art, the scholar's love of history, and the artist's appreciation for the myriad influences and subtleties of the craft, Schama's Power of Art is simply lovely.
This is a fake series on several levels. It features Simon Schama, whose credentials as an historian have been long suspect, and who has no credentials at all as an art critic with any aesthetic sensitivity. Instead he has a substantiated record as a propagandist, for modern western establishment and regimes, especially as a war mongering one. As for the content, series has less to do with works of art themselves, but is more concerned with retelling of anecdotes, of very doubtful veracity, about artists, their patrons, and rivals. These anecdotes, some of them entertaining, were obviously selected to prejudice the viewer favorably, or unfavorably, according to views of Schama or his producers. Anecdotes are illustrated with badly acted reenactments. In contrast, artworks themselves are shown only in badly lighted very short cuts. As an example, take episode on Bernini and 'Ecstasy of St Theresa'. It has lots of ad hominem attacks against the sculptor (and his patron popes and cardinals) through unsubstantiated anecdotes, but sculpture (which is a whole chapel in fact) is never shown in full on location. Its relations to other art works at the time or before (word 'baroque' is never used even to discard it), its composition from variety of media and materials, and its methods and techniques of creation, are barely referred to, if at all. While reference is made to St Theresa's own words which inspired the work, Schama seems to be unaware of the long tradition in Roman Catholic Church (and outside) of equating physical ecstasy and sexual union, with Divine Love. St. Theresa's words, while better expressed, are in line with that tradition, and with words of other saints, but this episode erroneously paint them as exceptional, and even unique.
If Mr. Schama spoke any more slowly, more painstakingly divided his
syllables, I might not recognize the language he speaks in.
More importantly, the writers and directors of pieces like this should recall what information is available at almost every viewer's fingertips. One can access a summary of most documentary subjects literally within a few minutes. I tested this hypothesis with the hour long piece on Turner. In a few keystrokes, I was able to find two summaries on the web that included most of the data Schama presents. Perhaps ten, 15 percent of what Schama tells or shows us remained harder to find, and what consisted of original analysis was nearly absent.
And what is the purpose of the cinema-like shots that suggest some sort of hint toward reenactments? There is often little rhyme or reason to when or why they occur. They last a second or two and seem selected based on their potential for filler and gloss. At one point, we see a hand in shallow focus scraping at a canvas. This is supposed to help us imagine Turner doing his work as a painter? Gimme a break.
Watching something like this is nearly a waste of time. I suppose you could turn down the volume and imagine your own narration. Better still, go to a museum or library instead. At least you'll get off your couch.
I walked into the Rothko Chapel, on the campus of Rice University in
Houston, Texas, one day in 1974, expecting to find less than nothing,
just another High Art hoax. My reaction was both overwhelming and
totally unexpected. I literally wept, much as I also did years later
when I saw the Van Goghs in Munich, and Michaelangelo's "Pieta" in the
It's a total cliché whenever one meets another painter who's mad about Rothko. Sooner or later, the question of, "Did you cry in the Chapel?" comes up. It's very corny but most of us did shed a tear. You have to see it for yourself, It's quite a rush, the paintings are about 15 feet tall, mostly in blues, browns, and blacks. The emotional impact is quite something, hard to describe, you just have to go there some day and see for yourself. No photograph could ever do it justice.
Rothko was a genius and a tragic hero. He sought, and achieved, the expression of an authentic personal spirituality within the then-dominant idiom of Ab-Ex.
A painter of tremendous power and sincerity, to whom I am deeply indebted both formally and spiritually.
Anyone who's seriously interested in Mark Rothko, and what he was all about, should view Simon Schama's POWER OF ART, disc 3 this was first produced by the BBC in 2006; here's the review from the IMDb.
No lie, If you're a fan of Rothko, this video is a must-see. Informative, evocative, and almost unbearable in its emotional intensity. Be forewarned: this is not for the faint-of heart. It's Mark vs the uber-rich, narcissistic NYC art establishment can you guess who wins? Nevertheless, it's the most accurate and loving tribute to the deeply troubled, painfully sincere, disturbingly self-destructive, humanist that was Mark Rothko.
Watch it you won't be disappointed Old Simon Schama actually "got" Rothko. Not many people do, nor ever did; his brief, meteoric 'success' notwithstanding.
The video also includes a lot of Markus Rothkovitch (his original name) cigarettes, vodka, warts and all explaining himself.
Excruciating and unforgettable; don't take my word for it; just watch the thing If you have the stomach for it.
If there is such a thing as popular science probably the best name one
can give to the genre this series belongs to is popular art. Simon
Schama's series of commentary on eight masters and their masterpieces
in the history of art have a uniting theme - how art can influenced by
power and how power influences art - but yet seems to address mostly
the non-initiated audience. The language of the series is sometimes the
one of an specialist but no deep aesthetic lessons are given, and the
central thread of the commentaries in most of the episodes is around
the anectdotic explanation of the works, combined with actors rendering
the central figures, in many cases with a very thick palette to use a
plastic arts term.
The best moments of the series are in my opinion when the commentary raises atop the banal to create a real and veridical connection between works and times as in the episode about Picasso, or when the camera work of the director fits well the painters style as in the Van Gogh's episode. Yet some contemporary hints could have been avoided in the first, and the acted scene of Van Gogh's folly from the second. Schama is eloquent and catches the attention. Each episode in itself seems to have its better and its worse moments. As such series build in time, eight episodes may not be enough for a definitive conclusion, and the overall impression can improve if further artists and masterpieces will be explored in follow-up seasons.
Whose Van Gogh is more nauseous, Kirk Douglas's or Andy Serkis's? Oh dear lord, how I wish I would have stopped watching this episode of Simon Schama's series, much as I stopped watching "Lust for Life"! How long before I can again look at one of his paintings without thinking of one of the worst examples of British overacting ever recorded? On top of this despicable performance, we are subjected to frenetic editing and oppressive sound effects. Deafening slurping of paint, pounding the canvas with the brush--I know painting and this is not painting. This is cheap pastiche after the video in the movie "The Ring". What a grotesque version of what was surely a beautiful-beautiful thing. Lastly and most reprehensibly, Mr. Schama takes advantage of the ignorant by presenting subjective opinion as fact. Van Gogh's Wheatfield is really the first piece of modern art? You say it so confidently it must be true--gimme a break. This is art history gone horribly wrong.
|Page 1 of 2:|| |
|External reviews||Official site||Plot keywords|
|Main details||Your user reviews||Your vote history|