Is it curtains for the blockbuster exhibition?

The numbers are in. According to The Art Newspaper's yearly survey, Ai Weiwei is officially the world's most popular artist. His travelling show Root attracted over 1.1 million visitors across four Brazilian cities. Scrolling down the Top 20 list I see some of the usual suspects: Van Gogh is there, of course, as is the crassly commercialised Treasures of Golden Pharaoh show. King Tut's belongings first went on an American tour in 1976 as the result of a political deal brokered between the US and the Egyptian government. Soft power at its finest and, lo and behold, the modern blockbuster show was born.

But this is 2020, a pandemic is raging dictating new rules and changing the way we live our lives. And let's not forget about climate change, that'll remain a pressing issue long after we will have put COVID-19 behind us. And I have questions, many questions. How will museums tackle the challenge of crowd management at a time where social distancing may become part of the 'new normal', how will they address the question around the bigger work force needed to make it all possible, will they be able to afford the expensive media campaigns to promote the events as well as the high costs to cover the artworks' insurance? And although this is likely to only benefit the bigger museums, is there an opportunity to refocus on existing collections? What role will social media and digital solutions play in this drastically changed scenario? Last but by no means least, what of the environmental impact of these thousands of globetrotting objects being flown from one museum to the other and the millions of people who move with and for them?

I may be wrong, but I am getting a sense that the blockbuster exhibition model as we know it has run its course. Who knows, this unwelcome pause might well end up being the catalyst for the museum world to think of new, safer and more sustainable ways to facilitate access to art. And for us art lovers to perhaps think more freely about what it is that we expect from the art show experience and from museums as a whole.

#aiweiwei #tutankhamon #blockbusters #museums #artblog #artblogger #beyondthecanvasblog

Ai Weiwei poses in front of his installation Straight, Royal Academy of Arts, 2015.

Photo: © Dave Parry Courtesy Royal Academy of Arts, London.

The Game Changers: Caravaggio's Death of the Virgin - Louvre, Paris

This is not just my favourite Caravaggio, this is the ultimate Caravaggio. For me, this is the painting that demonstrates the full extent of his groundbreaking aesthetic revolution. His innovations are stylistical and, perhaps more importantly, iconographical.

The realism of the depiction of the Virgin's death is brutal. Mary is shown on her deathbed with her modest dress coming undone, the head lolling to one side, the hair dishevelled. Her throat is swollen, her hand is limping as if the wrist was broken and her feet are bare - we are most certainly looking at a cadaver. There is no ascension into heaven, there are no angels waiting, the faint halo is the only giveaway of her holiness.

Caravaggio breaks with all religious iconographic conventions by showing us the mother of Christ dying like all mothers, surrounded by her grieving children. One of the apostles is rubbing his eyes with his fists like a small child. There is nothing sacred or spiritual about this somber scene, they all look like peasants. The red swath of cloth hanging from the ceiling like a theatre curtain dominates the upper part of the picture and creates a distinct visual continuity with the Virgin's dress. Maybe that's her stairway to heaven.

It will come as no surprise to learn that this extraordinary painting was rejected by the monks who had commissioned it. They thought Caravaggio's treatment of the subject was indecent and asked b-lister Carlo Saraceni to paint a new altarpiece for their church. In this one, Mary - who is supposedly dead - looks very much alive as she sits upright in prayer. Order restored, but Caravaggio's revolution was in already motion and couldn't be stopped.

#caravaggio #masterpiece #louvre #artblog #beyondthecanvasblog

Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, Death of the Virgin (c.1605)

Musee du Louvre, Paris

Carlo Saraceni, Death of the Virgin (1610).

Santa Maria della Scala, Rome

The Unforgettables: Parmigianino's Self-portrait in a Convex Mirror Kunsthistorisches Museum, Wien

It's Mannerist week chez Fran. With its slightly unnatural proportions, that cheeky Bronzino got me thinking about the creation of illusion in painting, so I went trawling through the photos I took in Vienna 3 years ago and I picked out this gem.

Parmigianino paints himself at the centre of this rounded panel, his exaggeratedly large right hand thrust to the foreground. Everything around him appears distorted, as if the room is collapsing, maybe even spinning. In contrast, his almost angelic face is calm and collected as he gazes back at us. In a game of illusionistic reflections, the viewer and the artist are looking at each other through the same mirror. We see the artist and what he sees while he is also looking at himself in the same mirror (I’m getting a bit dizzy just writing this). It’s an exquisite visual enigma that sums up Parmigianino's unrivalled creative ingenuity and technical virtuosity.

Aged only 21, in 1524 Parmigianino travelled to Rome with a handful of works seeking patronage at the court of the Medici Pope Clement VII. With this small painting, only 24 cm in diameter, he was sending a very clear message to his prospective patron: "Look at me, look at what this hand can do." The focus is thus entirely on his own talent. This is a bold self-celebration of the artist's confidence made even more remarkable by the fact that, at the time, painters were considered little more than craftsmen. With this picture, Parmigianino was making a radical statement about both the changing status of the artist and the limitless possibilities of art.

#mannerism #parmigianino #masterpiece #vienna #artblog #beyondthecanvasblog

Francesco Mazzola called Il Parmigianino, Self-portrait in a Convex Mirror (c. 1524), Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna