A part of me is reluctant to recommend books on art. The same part of me is reluctant to write books on art. After all, a work of art should speak for itself. Then I remembered that for most contemporary art shows, a catalog is produced, and that catalog typically features an explanatory essay by some sympathetic scholar or critic. If the art of today requires verbal elaboration, how much more will the art of the past—especially the remote past—require such commentary? These recommendations are a selection of some favorite texts about how art comes into being—and is part of our being.
I’m fond of writers who indulge the anecdotal mode. Vasari is up there with Plutarch, Boswell, de Quincey, and other biographers who see how apparently trivial information can transmit essential personal characteristics. While he gives reverential accounts of artists he regards in the category of genius, Vasari humanizes them through anecdotes.
How Michelangelo became physically attached to his clothes because he so seldom changed them. How Leonardo bought caged birds in the market in order to set them free. How Raphael died of too much sex. It’s not a read-through book, but a text to consult whenever you see a remarkable sculpture, building, or painting of the Italian Renaissance and want to know more about the men (it is all men) who made it—each burning with that hard gem-like flame.
This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work.This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute…
I pity current practitioners of academic anthropology. Is there any human society today without the smartphone? It is then all the more valuable to read accounts of art-making derived from fieldwork among pre-industrial, pre-tech communities.
Ellen Dissanayake’s work, seasoned by (pre-phone) research experience in Asia, Africa, and Papua New Guinea, argues urgently for art as a common human necessity.
Every human society displays some form of behavior that can be called "art," and in most societies other than our own the arts play an integral part in social life. Those who wish to understand art in its broadest sense, as a universal human endowment, need to go beyond modern Western elitist notions that disregard other cultures and ignore the human species' four-million-year evolutionary history.
This book offers a new and unprecedentedly comprehensive theory of the evolutionary significance of art. Art, meaning not only visual art, but music, poetic language, dance, and performance, is for the first time regarded from…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
In the late 1990s, when I was writing a short history of the Phaidon Press–a pioneer imprint of art books both affordable and beautiful—I used to visit Gombrich at his home in north London. His own career as art historian was entwined with Phaidon’s fortunes. I asked him if it were true that he used to get an adolescent to read his texts to check for clarity of expression.
The legend was exaggerated, of course. But Gombrich’s prose still strikes me as admirably free of academic obfuscation, and this book is filled with lucid discussion of what is happening, perceptually and psychologically, when artists invite viewers into their ‘worlds’.
Considered a great classic by all who seek for a meeting ground between science and the humanities, Art and Illusion examines the history and psychology of pictorial representation in light of present-day theories of visual perception information and learning. Searching for a rational explanation of the changing styles of art, Gombrich reexamines many ideas on the imitation of nature and the function of tradition. In testing his arguments he ranges over the history of art, noticing particularly the accomplishments of the ancient Greeks, and the visual discoveries of such masters as Leonardo da Vinci and Rembrandt, as well as the…
Not much in common between Gombrich and Berger, ideologically—so I would presume. Yet Berger’s social history of Western art, woven into the rise of capitalism, advertising, and mass media, is similarly direct in style.
It irritates me; it’s supposed to irritate. Given its radical energy, the book seems surprisingly undated. First published in 1972, it also still seems adventurous in design—the art book as a work of art.
"Seeing comes before words. The child looks and recognizes before it can speak.""But there is also another sense in which seeing comes before words. It is seeing which establishes our place in the surrounding world; we explain that world with words, but word can never undo the fact that we are surrounded by it. The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled."John Berger's "Ways of Seeing" is one of the most stimulating and the most influential books on art in any language. First published in 1972, it was based on the BBC television series about…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
Martin is a pal. Even if he weren’t I would recommend this unusual meditation on how a work of art gets made. Imagine you have volunteered to sit for a portrait by a highly distinguished artist (here, Lucien Freud).
This entails many hours, stretching over many months—of sitting in exactly the same position, effectively doing nothing. Not only are you stuck with the situation. You can’t even be sure that the artist, let alone you, will be happy with the result. From this agony comes an essay on the process of a ‘masterpiece’ that is patient, tender, good-natured—and filled with telling anecdotes.
Lucian Freud, perhaps the world's leading portrait painter, spent seven months painting a portrait of the art critic Martin Gayford. Gayford describes the process chronologically, from the day he arrived for the first sitting through to his meeting with the couple who bought the finished painting. As Freud creates a portrait of Gayford, so the art critic produces his own portrait of the notoriously private artist, recounting their wide-ranging conversations and giving a rare insight into Freud's working practice. The book is illustrated throughout with photographs by David Dawson of Freud at work, with paintings by Freud from the 1940s…
This book came out to accompany a five-part BBC/PBS television series about the origins of art in human society. Beginning with the mantra that ‘Everyone is an artist,’ it sets out to discover when, how, and why we humans acquired and then exploited our unique capacity, as a species, for symbolic representation.
We may never fully comprehend the original power of images created many thousands of years ago. Yet we can try to explain their existence if we stay aware of how art has functioned throughout history—to convey flights of imagination, to assert power, to tell stories, to articulate values and beliefs… and more.
