If not for the slyly heroic work of two men hundreds of years ago, the pristine Renaissance-era paintings now at Williamstown’s Clark Art Institute would have been reduced to bonfire ashes. The canvases, with nude figures often larger-than-life, are from Madrid’s El Prado Museum and were once kept in the hiding places and private quarters of Spanish kings.
The works, ranging from Titian and Peter Paul Rubens to Diego Velazquez and other artistic heavy-hitters, are primarily focused upon renderings of religious and mythological scenes. The images are hardly enough to make a schoolboy blush; however, in their time they were considered sinfully provocative.
“This is an exhibition that I think is important since it can provide a different image of 16th- and 17th-century Spain,” Miguel Falomir said during a recent press reception. He’s the deputy director of collections at Madrid’s Museo Nacional del Prado.
“It’s surprising to know the idea that in the 17th century, the largest artworks in the world were in Madrid, and they were all in the collections of kings,” he added.
Falomir then brought a gale of laughter when he said “I know it sounds impossible, but it’s true. At one time Spain was once the most powerful country in the world.”
Indeed. By the time Philip II (1527-1598) ascended to the throne, Spain was calling the shots worldwide as the first global empire. Its territories ranged from the king’s namesake island chain, the Philippines, to Mexico and a generous slice of South America. By marriage, Philip was briefly King of England and Ireland and also maintained rule in Sicily, Naples and the south Netherlands.
Gold from New World conquests brought unimagined wealth, and Spain had holdings on every continent then known to Europeans.
Philip II was also a collector. Enraptured with the art of the brilliant Italian painter Titian, he was foremost in commissioning portraits and religious and mythological works from him.
What would roil the monarchy for generations afterward, however, were the king’s commissions of scenes depicting nudity. It was a sin in the Catholic Church to either paint or own such works. The king skirted this issue by hanging the taboo canvases in several “salas reservadas,” rooms reserved for private viewing.
Philip’s far more conservative son, Philip III, aghast at inheriting these paintings, had them sequestered.
Not at all shocked was his grandson, Philip IV, who not only revered the mildly-provocative paintings but also commissioned the Flemish artist Rubens to create more than 60, racy-for-the-times, mythological works based on Ovid’s “Metamorphoses.”
Avoiding any scandal, Philip IV secluded these works at various palaces, away from the prying eyes of the Church and the Spanish Inquisition.
It seems that there was an ongoing rhythmic ping pong game in monarchal generations between conservative fathers and their more liberal sons in dealing with these risqué art works.
The paintings, wherever they were stored, led a charmed life until the strict and morally rigid Charles III rose to power in the mid-1700s. He asked the court painter, Anton Mengs, to identify what canvases were indecent and to consign them to bonfires.
Mengs realized their value and suggested that they should instead be saved for the study of art school students.
He wrote that “there was less risk for the professors (painters) to follow such a well painted original than to have to denude real women.”
The virtue of Spanish women was saved and the artist became the guardian of the artworks. He is also inextricably woven into their history, as he was responsible for creating the ornate, gilded frames for many of the exhibit paintings.
Years later they were once again saved from the wrath of Charles IV, by the intervention of the Marquis of Santa Cruz. In the late 1790s, he found refuge for them at Madrid’s Real Academy.
Falomir was joined by Kathleen Morris, the Clark’s director of collections and Lara Yeager-Crasselt, the Institute’s interim curator of paintings, for a walk through the galleries. As you first enter, you see the portraits of two dour, long-faced Royals and in a space between, the rendering of a mythological woman.
“Here you have the two protagonists of the show,” Morris said. “This is a Philip II portrait by Titian and his grandson Philip IV by Velasquez, a court painter. We loved the idea of taking these very sober-looking Royal personages and sandwiching them between one of the greatest of Rubens’ paintings in the show, ”Fortuna.”
The goddess, set against a stormy ocean with nothing more than an upraised veil for protection, unsteadily balances upon a crystal globe. The scene conveys the uncertainty and vagaries of chance.
A few paces away is a 400-year-old wall-sized canvas by Jan Brueghel the Elder and several contributing artists. It shows few signs of age. “Sight and Smell” is a fever dream of romantic images where in the foreground cherubs entertain two gowned women. They’re surrounded by a wealth of art and opulence. Along with the jewelry and cosmetics, however, there’s also a telescope, globe and mapmaking implements.
“This is, in a way, knowledge in all of its forms on display and very much reflective of a passion for collecting and for having a command of the world,” Yeager-Crasselt said. “This work really introduces you to all the major themes of the show in many ways, collecting, display and the femalenude.”
Falomir said that Guercino’s painting from 1617 was truly the centerpiece of the exhibit. “Susannah and the Elders” is based upon an Old Testament story wherein two older men spy upon a young woman bathing. When she refuses their overtures, they attempt to blackmail her. The scene depicts a luminous female in repose, unaware of the duo nearby. One of the men looks directly at us, with a pointed warning.
“It’s about the joy of looking at something that is forbidden,” Falomir said. “One of the Elders is looking (at you) and saying ‘Keep quiet and enjoy!’”
We become the voyeurs as well.
“This painting encapsulates the exhibition,” he added. “They were using a religious subject as an excuse for the nudity. It was a way to justify the idea that ‘This is not an erotic painting. This is a religious subject.’”
Because these canvases were an integral part of the Royal collection, their condition is astounding, in many cases seeming as if they were recently created. Of the 28 paintings in the exhibit, 24 have never before been seen before in America.
A curiosity to the exhibit is that Rubens may have found more profit in the marketing of nudes. An early 1600s painting by the Flemish artist Paul Bril was among Rubens’ possessions. As X-ray technology has revealed, the original scene was of the Biblical hermit St. Jerome in a lush landscape.
Rubens altered the scene dramatically, replacing the saint with a nude Psyche as she orders an eagle to fill her chalice with water. At the woman’s feet however, a vestige of St. Jerome’s red robe remains. “Psyche and Jupiter” is a far livelier painting, conveying a raw beauty that the earlier canvas doubtless lacked.
“This is quite unusual and an extraordinary display of his own invention,” Yeager-Crasselt said. She noted that Rubens would often return to his own past paintings for improved renderings.
She noted that “Nymphs and Satyrs,” first created some 20 years before his death, he later altered.
“It’s this constant process,” Yeager-Crasselt said. “He’s thinking and he’s growing as a mature artist, something that continues through the course of his career.”
Titian was the court favorite of Philip II, and that’s why the largest repository of his work is found at the Prado. Rubens was hugely influenced by the artist and, when visiting Spain, he’d spend long hours copying his works, hoping to outdo the late master. Velazquez, in turn, followed the same path, hoping his works would be superior to Rubens.
At one point in the tour, Falomir expressed deep satisfaction with the exhibit’s design, wherein each canvas is provided breathing space.
“I think that the paintings are great and in very good condition. I think that they look much better here than in Spain,” he said. “It’s an amazing gallery of beautiful paintings done by some of the most important artists in the Western Hemisphere.”
“Splendor, Myth and Vision: Nudes from the Prado” continues through Oct. 10. The eponymous, full-color, 208-page companion catalogue is $50. Open everyday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission: $20; ages 17 and under, free. Students with identification, free. Directions: Take Route 2 west to Williamstown. Just past Williams College, enter the rotary and take South Street. The institute is a half mile on your right.