The Gemäldegalerie and 17th Century Pissing Contests

Part of the reason I haven't been blogging lately was that I have been to Berlin; unfortunately I had to shorten that visit due to a mild but persistent cold (which is another reason I haven't been blogging lately). Anyway, let's get general: One of the less important reasons why it is excellent to live in current western Europe is that wherever you are, you are no more than a few hours away from the next museum which holds some of the world's greatest painting. In Berlin's imaginatively named Gemäldegalerie, for example, an admission fee of eight euros will give you access to paintings by Boticelli, Dürer, Vermeer, Rembrandt, Breughel, Bosch, Rubens, Raphael and many, many others. They also have a number of Canalettos; such as this view of the Canale Grande (the usual disclaimer that all reproductions below are piss-poor and don't look like much on the computer screen applies):


Even better, La Vigilia di Santa Marta:


And then there's what's perhaps Caravaggio's most famous painting:


This one shows Amor, the incarnation of worldly, including physical, love as a boy from the populace (as made clear by his dirty toenails). At his feet are the symbols of the sciences, the arts, virtue and worldy power: Amor vincit omnia indeed. If you look really closely, you can see that while it appears that Amors glans is wholly covered by his foreskin, it still looks like the tip of the glans is peeping out. Make of that what you will.

The painting also features what may be the most interesting facial expression in the history of art. Mona Lisa my ass.

Amor Vincit Omnia caused a bit of a stir. The painting was part of Vincenzo Giustiniani's art collection and shortly after it had been finished, Cardinal Benedetto Giustiniani, Vincenzo's brother, commissioned what you might call an anti-Caravaggio, the painting Divine Love and Profane Love, in which Divine Love pretty much bosses Profane Love around. (It's hard to see, but note that Divine Love points an arrow at Profane Love. Also note the resemblance between Divine Love and Caravaggio's Amor):


According to Wikipedia, Caravaggio

bitterly protested at what he saw as the plagiarism. Taunted by one of Caravaggio’s friends, Baglione responded with a second version, in which the devil was given Caravaggio’s face. Thus began a long and vicious quarrel which was to have unforseeable ramifications for Caravaggio decades after his death when the unforgiving Baglione became his first biographer.

Now there's a book that might be an interesting read.