"Detail from Piero della Francesca's Madonna del Parto" (oil on stretched linen; 10" x 8")

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The painting is the copy of a detail from "Madonna del Parto" (c. 1460) by the Italian Renaissance master Piero della Francesca. It is housed in the Museo della Madonna del Parto of Monterchi. The painting was actually the first one I did for the "Let's Face It 2018" online workshop. I got out of posting my recent work and am now getting back into the good habit. I apologize!

The figure of this Madonna, the protector of pregnant women, with her austere expression and natural stance of a woman heavy with child, stands out against the damask canopy, held open at the sides by two angels. The sacred and ritual nature of the image is further emphasized by the fact that the angels are drawn from the same cartoon, repeated in mirror image.

In just seven "working days" Piero della Francesca painted the extraordinary and touching image of the Madonna del Parto, distant as a heavenly vision and yet alive and real in her post-adolescent freshness. 

Piero della Francesca, "Madonna del Parto"

"Detail from Giovanni Bellini's Madonna di Brera" (oil on stretched linen; 10" x 8")

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The painting is the copy of a detail from "Madonna di Brera" (1510) by the Italian Renaissance master Giovanni Bellini. The original hangs in the Pinacoteca di Brera in Milan, Italy. My painting shows the Virgina Mary. By the way, Belinni was the Week 4 lesson for "Let's Face It 2018".

When he painted it, Bellini was around eighty and one of the most prestigious figures of the Venetian Renaissance, a sort of charismatic patriarch who, at the end of his career, showed that he was able to take in and guide a new direction in style.

Giovanni Bellini, "Madonna di Brera"

The space of the picture is dominated by the monumental figure of the Virgin seated on a throne, wrapped in loose drapery that dilates the volume of her body in line with 15th-century schemes for construction of the image. But the harshness and incisiveness of line has vanished, and the entire composition is now built up out of color alone. Behind the Madonna stretches a landscape that is perhaps the true protagonist of the painting, pervaded by a warm luminosity that makes it look more like a magical evocation than a realistic description.

With this painting, Bellini perfected the pictorial representation of that special atmosphere and natural light which were to characterize the whole of Venetian production in the 16th century, achieving this stylistic effect through a precise change in the technique of execution: in fact examination under infrared light, carried out during the restoration of 1987, revealed the almost total absence of preparatory drawing, reduced to a summary sketch without hatching or shading on which the image was constructed solely by the spreading of paint.

I was charmed by the serious expression of the young Virgin Mary. Bellini painted many other Madonnas, but it was this Madonna that stole my heart.
 

"Detail from Caravaggio's Judith Beheading Holofernes" (oil on stretched linen; 10" x 8")

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My New Year's Resolution is the pursuit of beauty. Well, I have been pursuing beauty in my paintings for many years, but I have a specific goal in mind. I started taking the year-long online workshop called "Let's Face It". It is run by Kara Bullock and 20 guest instructors; this year it focuses on portraiture throughout art history since the Renaissance. The students can follow the week's lesson step by step, or do whatever they wish to do, which suits better my independent style. Caravaggio was the second week's artist.

My painting is the copy of a detail from "Judith Beheading Holofernes" (c.1602) by the Italian Baroque master Caravaggio. The widow Judith first charms the Assyrian general Holofernes, then decapitates him in his tent. The painting was rediscovered in 1950 and is part of the collection of the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica in Rome.

The deuterocanonical Book of Judith tells how Judith served her people by seducing and pleasuring Holofernes, the Assyrian General. Judith gets Holofernes drunk, then seizes her sword and slays him: "Approaching to his bed, she took hold of the hair of his head." (Judith, 13:7-8).

Caravaggio's approach was, typically, to choose the moment of greatest dramatic impact, the moment of the decapitation itself. The figures are set out in a shallow stage, theatrically lit from the side, isolated against the inky, black background. Judith and her maid Abra stand to the right, partially over Holofernes, who is vulnerable on his back.

The faces of the three characters demonstrate his mastery of emotion, Judith in particular showing in her face a mix of determination and repulsion. Artemisia Gentileschi and others were deeply influenced by this work and even surpassed Caravaggio's physical realism, but it has been argued that none matched his capture of Judith's psychological ambivalence.

"Serenity Reigns" (oil on stretched canvas; 22" x 28")

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I have been working on "Serenity Reigns" for almost ten years.  Its complicated, Frank Lloyd Wrightesque architecture; the confusion between the inside and outside images; and some one's casual remark that the painting was neither here nor there got in the way.  I finally worked out the design and other problems and was able to finish it yesterday.  I cannot be happier.

The painting depicts a Chinese wooden sculpture from around 1100, a part of the fabulous Chinese art collection at the Minneapolis Institute of Art.  The sculpture is not Buddha, but a bodhisattva, an enlightened being who has delayed entering paradise in order to help others attain enlightenment.  In China and Korea, Guanyin, his/her Chinese name, is widely worshipped as a “goddess of mercy and compassion". In popular folklore, reciting the bodhisattva’s name during disaster would bring relief. I grew up in a devout Buddhist family, so am quite familiar with Guanyin's importance and popularity in the Buddhist milieu.

Seated in the lotus position, this figure wears the silk garments and gold jewelry befitting a bodhisattva. The gesture of both hands turned up with thumbs touching the middle fingers is perhaps that of discourse or argumentation. Carved during the last creative epoch of Chinese Buddhist sculpture, it expresses the gentle, benign calm of near enlightenment. (The information was collected from the MIA's website.)

On a personal level, I achieved my own calm and near enlightenment as I was working on the painting in the past few days. Let go of anger, frustration, and other emotions that interfere with the inner peace.  Don't let others determine what you should paint as well!

"Buddha in Lotus Pose" (oil on linen; 8" x 6") sold

sold

This is a famous, thousand-year-old, terra cotta statue of Buddha, from the Chinese Sung Dynasty, at the Minneapolis Institute of Art.  The reference photo, which I cannot find to share, was taken several years ago during my family's annual visit to Minnesota.  My husband's elderly aunt and uncle took us to the great museum, with a fantastic collection of Asian art.  Dear Aunt Betty, who suffered from Alzheimer's Disease, passed away a couple of years ago, so the painting is dedicated to her.

Buddha's gentle expression restores calm whenever I look at the picture, so I decided to paint the statue.  I have actually painted it in acrylic several years ago, not just the statue, but also the entire section of the museum where it is installed, plus the scenery outside!  I failed very badly despite my numerous attempts to save it.  The large painting (18 x 24") was not good enough to be donated to the annual Patrons Show at the Art League in Alexandria, VA.  I couldn't possibly toss it into the trash either.  So it has been sitting in my office since.  Doing a small, reasonably good painting finally released me from suffering.

Buddha, the Enlightened One, has taught that there are two causes to manyfold sufferings of the mankind--desire and aversion.  When you want something (or someone) terribly, your desire will result in pain.  If you dislike, hate, abhor something (or someone) intensely, you will also suffer. By wanting to paint the statue well, I have suffered.  No more.

As you may have guessed, I am a Buddhist.  I grew up in a Buddhist family in Korea, but didn't think much of the religion.  In my thirties, I rediscovered my heritage and have been trying to live by the Enlightened One's teachings--mindfully and with loving kindness. It's not easy for someone who is impatient and passionate (you know passion can go both ways!).  But I will continue to do my best.

"Temple Stone Steps, Korea" (oil on canvas; 16" x 12") sold

sold

"Temple Stone Steps" is a commission painting of a Buddhist temple, which serves as the entry to the Seokguram Grotto, one of the National Treasures of South Korea.  It is part of the Bulguksa temple complex, located in Gyeongju in the Gyeongsangbuk province in the southeast of the country.  (Both Seokguram and the Bulguksa Temple are on the UNESCO World Heritage List.)   The huge Buddha statue and the grotto were completed in the 8th century, and is considered one of the best Buddhist sculptures in the world and one of the most popular cultural destinations in South Korea. 

Eleven years ago, my husband, my daughter, and I visited my ailing mother.  She hasn't met my toddler daughter before, so you can imagine her joy when she saw her granddaughter.  Since it was my husband's first visit to South Korea, we did some sightseeing in addition to several dinners with my extended family.  Despite our hectic schedule, we made a few tourist stops in Seoul, then headed south for the famed temple complex. 

Are you surprised to learn how old the grotto is?  Korea is an old country, with many well-preserved historic monuments and buildings, most of which are Buddhist.  I would have never painted "Temple Stone Steps."  Fortunately, an old Canadian friend of mine asked me if I could do a Korean landscape painting for her teenage grandson who was in love with all things Korean Buddhist.  How about that!  I was honored and thrilled to oblige. 

I found a couple of pictures, which, pasted together, served as the reference for the painting.  It was a winter morning with soft light when I took the pictures.  It has been a while, so I don't even remember climbing up the worn stone steps.  But I was mesmerized by them while painting.  You look up the steps.  There is the colorful, old temple with a sagging roof, which is framed by bare winter trees. 

Bitter sweet memories--of my bed-ridden mother, my daughter getting sick during the trip, short visits with my dear relatives, revisiting my favorite Buddhist temples, etc.--flooded back.  How I wish I could go back in time to see my mother once more.