Chapter 6: Theme and Image: Every Picture Tells a Story

Exploring the Social, Historical, and Cultural Context of a Painting

Learners can explore the social, historical, and cultural origins of the story in each of these visual images. They can create new and alternative narratives in the form of a poem, collage, speech, letter, or essay (also see Appendix Resources). A closer look at different paintings by the same artist can be the focus of an art inquiry project. The images and related texts in the following section provide examples of the way art and text can be explored through different lenses of learning. You can also apply different essential questions to the works of art, poems, and informational texts.

 

A darkened room of shadows lights up the group of individuals in the middle foreground of the painting.
Diego Velazquez (1599-1660), Las Meninas (The Ladies of Honour), 1656. The Prado Museum, Madrid, Spain. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22600614” by The Prado Museum is licensed under Public Domain Mark 1.0.

Note about Las Meninas by Diego Velasquez:

Las Meninas  (“The Ladies in Waiting”) is a 1656 painting in the Museo del Prado in Madrid, by Diego Velázquez, the leading artist of the Spanish Baroque ,  has become one of the most widely analyzed works in Western painting due to the way its complex and enigmatic composition and how Velazquez “sought to build a bridge between art and reality”, between subjects and viewers.

The painting is believed by to depict a room in the Royal Alcazar of Madrid during the reign of King Philip IV of Spain, and presents several figures, most identifiable from the Spanish court, captured in a particular moment as if in a snapshot photograph.  Some of the figures look out of the canvas towards the viewer, while others interact among themselves. The five-year-old Infanta Margaret Theresa is surrounded by her entourage of ladies in waiting, chaperones, bodyguard, two dwarfs and a dog. Just behind them, Velázquez portrays himself working at a large canvas. Velázquez looks outwards beyond the pictorial space to where a viewer of the painting would stand.[3] In the background there is a mirror that reflects the upper bodies of the king and queen. They appear to be placed outside the picture space in a position similar to that of the viewer, although some scholars have speculated that their image is a reflection from the painting that Velázquez  is shown working on. (Wikipedia).

To view the Joy of Museums Virtual Tour of “Las Meninas” please open the link here.

 

A man with arms outstretched being held at gunpoint by multiple soldiers while civilians cower in fear and lie motionless in the foreground
Francisco Goya (1773-1812), The Third of May 1808, 1814. Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, Spain. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22615690” by Museo Nacional del Prado is licensed under Public Domain Mark 1.0.

Note about The Third of May by Francesca Goya:

“Goya’s The Third of May, 1808 is a powerful depiction of a tragic event in Spanish history. Painted in 1814, the artwork portrays the execution of Spanish civilians by French soldiers during the Peninsular War. Goya’s use of stark contrast between light and dark, along with his bold brushwork, intensifies the emotional impact of the scene.

The central figure, with arms outstretched in a Christ-like pose, represents the innocent victim facing his imminent demise. The vivid portrayal of despair, fear, and brutality elicits a visceral response from viewers, evoking a profound reflection on the horrors of war and the sacrifice of ordinary people caught in its grip. The Third of May, 1808 stands as a timeless testament to Goya’s artistic genius and his ability to capture the raw emotions and harsh realities of human existence.” ( Wendy Gray, June 17, 2023, Daily Art Magazine.)

The Man He Killed by Thomas Hardy
“Had he and I but met
            By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
            Right many a nipperkin!
            “But ranged as infantry,
            And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
            And killed him in his place.
            “I shot him dead because —
            Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
            That’s clear enough; although
            “He thought he’d ‘list, perhaps,
            Off-hand like — just as I —
Was out of work — had sold his traps —
            No other reason why.
            “Yes; quaint and curious war is!
            You shoot a fellow down
You’d treat if met where any bar is,
            Or help to half-a-crown.”

 

Two women harvest potatoes in a field under a cloudy sky.
Jules Bastien Lepage (1848-1884), October, 1878. National Gallery of Art, 1878, Melbourne, Australia. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22143225” by Google Arts & Culture is licensed under CC0 1.0.

Work without Hope by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair—
The bees are stirring—birds are on the wing—
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Yet well I ken the banks where Amaranths blow,

Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, O ye Amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrighten’d, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.

(Retrieved February 5, 2023: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Work_without_Hope)

Identity and Belonging

A couple sit next to a fence in front of others who are waiting beside a wavy shoreline.
Ford Maddox Brown (1821-1893), The Last of England, 1855. Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, Birmingham, England. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29656898” by Google Cultural Institute is licensed under CC0 1.0.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
A small boat rows out to sea while a buoy is seen in the middle of the image with a large boat in the background of the harbour.
Alex Kirchner, 1867-1939, New York Harbour (Statue of Liberty in the Background), 1897. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9923644” by Artnet is licensed under Public Domain Mark 1.0.

 

A woman sits in a room full of pottery while she uses her right hand to detail an ornate piece of pottery.
John Lavery (1856-1941), Woman Painting a Pot, 1888. Kelvingrove Art Gallery, Glasgow, Scotland. “https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/woman-painting-a-pot-84910” by ArtUK is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.

A Song of Triumph by Angela Morgan

Work!

Thank God for the might of it,
The ardor, the urge, the delight of it,
Work that springs from the heart’s desire,
Setting the brain and the soul on fire—
Oh, what is so good as the heat of it,
And what is so glad as the beat of it,
And what is so kind as the stern command,
Challenging brain and heart and hand?

Work!

Thank God for the pride of it,
For the beautiful, conquering tide of it,
Sweeping the life in its furious flood,
Thrilling the arteries, cleansing the blood,
Mastering stupor and dull despair,
Moving the dreamer to do and dare—
Oh, what is so good as the urge of it,
And what is so glad as the surge of it,
And what is so strong as the summons deep,
Rousing the torpid soul from sleep?

Work!

Thank God for the pace of it,
For the terrible, swift, keen race of it,
Fiery steeds in full control,
Nostrils a-quiver to reach the goal.
Work, the power that drives behind,
Guiding the purposes, taming the mind,
Holding the runaway wishes back,
Reining the will to one steady track,
Speeding the energies, faster, faster,
Triumphing ever over disaster;
Oh, what is so good as the pain of it,
And what is so great as the gain of it,
And what is so kind as the cruel goad,
Forcing us on through the rugged road?

Work!

Thank God for the swing of it,
For the clamoring, hammering ring of it,
Passion of labor daily hurled
On the mighty anvils of the world.
Oh, what is so fierce as the flame of it?
And what is so huge as the aim of it?
Thundering on through dearth and doubt,
Calling the plan of the Maker out,
Work, the Titan; Work, the friend,
Shaping the earth to a glorious end,
Draining the swamps and blasting hills,
Doing whatever the Spirit wills—
Rending a continent apart,
To answer the dream of the Master heart.
Thank God for a world where none may shirk—
Thank God for the splendor of Work!

A woman sits next to a window in a small room under an archway.
Francis David Millet (1846-1912), A Cosey Corner, 1884. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York. “https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/11583” by Metropolitan Museum of Art is licensed under  Public Domain Mark 1.0.
Happy the man, whose wish and care
   A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
                            In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
   Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
                            In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcernedly find
   Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
                            Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
   Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
                            With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
   Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
                            Tell where I lie.
A vast landscape of natural grasses and trees is sat with farmers and small villages in the distance.
Pieter Brueghel (1525-30-1569), The Harvesters, 1565. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, NY. “https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/435809” by Metropolitan Museum of Art is licensed under Public Domain Mark 1.0.

The Sower’s Song by Thomas Carlyle

Now hands to seed sheet, boys!
We step and we cast; old Tkime’s on wing,
And would ye partake of Harvest’s joys,
The corn must be sown in Spring.

Fall gently and still, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,
For beast and man must be fed.

Old Earth is a pleasure to see
In sunshiny cloak of red and green:
The furrow lies fresh; this Year will be
As Years that are past have been.

Fall gently and still, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,
For beast and man must be fed.


Old Mother, receive this corn,
The sun of Six Thousand golden sires:
All these on thy kindly breast were born;
Once more thy poor child requires

Fall gently and still, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,
For beast and man must be fed.


Now steady and sure again,
And measure of stroke and step we keep:
Thus up and thus down we cast our grain:
Sow well, and you gladly reap.

Fall gently and still, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,
For beast and man must be fed.

Mutability (“We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon”) by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)

                                      I.

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
    How restlessly they speed and gleam and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:—
                                         II.
Or like forgotten lyres whose dissonant strings
    Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
    One mood or modulation like the last.
                                        III.
We rest—a dream  has power to poison sleep;
    We rise—one wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep,
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:—
                                       IV.
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
    The path of its departure still is free;
Man’s yesterday may ne’er be like his morrow;
    Nought may endure but Mutability.
A moonlit sky breaks the clouds to highlight the image of a few trees in the left of the image.
Johann Christian Dahl (1788-1857), A Cloud and Landscape Study by Moonlight, 1822. Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco, San Francisco, California. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=23180386” by The Amica Library is licensed under Public Domain Mark 1.0.

The Flower that Smiles Today by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The flower that smiles to-day
          To-morrow dies;
All that we wish to stay
          Tempts and then flies.
What is this world’s delight?
Lightning that mocks the night,
          Brief even as bright.
   Virtue, how frail it is!
          Friendship how rare!
Love, how it sells poor bliss
          For proud despair!
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy, and all
          Which ours we call.
   Whilst skies are blue and bright,
          Whilst flowers are gay,
Whilst eyes that change ere night
          Make glad the day;
Whilst yet the calm hours creep,
Dream thou—and from thy sleep
          Then wake to weep.
A vibrant scene illustrates birds, butterflies and flowers against a sunny sky.
Martin Johnson Heade (1819-1904), Orchids, Nesting Hummingbirds and a Butterfly, date unknown. Private Collection. “https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38413481” by Martin Johnson Heade is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Questions for Further Inquiry

• How does art record and communicate the human experience?
• How does art represent personal expression, exploration, and/or insight?
• How does art help us learn about other people?
• What can we learn about a culture through its art forms?
• How does art reflect human culture?
• Do the arts reflect or shape culture?
• How does art influence what we can learn about ourselves and about our society?
• How is art used everyday life?
• In what ways are everyday sites and sounds rooted in the arts?
• How do artists benefit society?
• Why is art necessary?
• How can I use my artistic talents to benefit my community, state, country, world?
To read more questions about art, please open the links here 

 

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