Not For The Faint OF Taste

Let your eye choose before the name does

I visited Rome last week, and experienced some very mixed feelings; on one hand I felt that I was seeing the best art I’ve ever encountered, and on the other, I felt a strange sadness at how the Colosseum, Forum and other places I’ve read so much about are now more or less ruins — largely reconstructed. 

That being said, the art really surpassed my expectations. Bernini’s Rape of Proserpina, Raphael’s School of Athens, and Caravaggio’s St. Jerome Writing outshone everything I have seen until date, and I am not exaggerating.

While exploring the Borghese, I came across Leonardo da Vinci’s copy of Leda (the original is lost), and alongside it, a collection of portraits with an almost dreamy, yet clear quality to them, with the placard ‘Leonardo da Pistoia’. Naturally I found it surprising that there was another ‘Leonardo da Something’, but its more common than we think, Caravaggio’s real name was Michelangelo as well.

Born around 50 years after da Vinci, in the Tuscan town of Pistoia, Leonardo Grazia studied under Raphael’s circle, working in Florence, Rome, and eventually Naples. His paintings were so refined, they were long misattributed to the greats, especially his mentor. It took centuries for his work to be correctly reassigned. His subject matter increasingly became biblical and classical female figures, like Venus, Cleopatra, and Lucretia. 

Looking through his work, they all had a luminous, moody aspect to them, but also somewhat sharp and polished, like something just beyond the veil. This is the unique style of Grazia, where Raphael’s idealization and balance is filtered through Mannerism’s stylization. The High Renaissance focussed on harmony and clarity, embracing realism, while Mannerism focussed on intensity and drama, emerging as a reaction to the former and turning to a more expressive and imaginative cursor. 

The painting of Cleopatra caught my eye the most. It was a layered juxtaposition of not just both the above painting styles, but also what each era represent and value, lingering between a sacred resignation to her destiny and exploring her sexuality with sensual command.

Most people were gathered around the da Vinci copy, but these caught my attention for a specific reason: I have a penchant for collecting paintings, sculpture and other objet d’art of female figures of great renown, especially ancient ones. I call them affectionately as ‘the ladies’, they are a reminder of grace, empowerment and strength. A favourite is a figurine of Athena that my dad brought back when he went to Greece many years ago. Another is an oil on papyrus portrait of Nefertiti, and on this trip, I added a small bust of Diana.

And it makes you wonder — how much of “taste” is just recognition? How many artists like him do we pass over simply because their names don’t ring a bell? The irony of the da Vinci copy strikes me now: it’s a copy, and albeit a very good one, it still steals the show. 

Explains why duplicates sell, I suppose. 

If I did not have this vested interest, I doubt I would notice and appreciate Grazia’s work; I might have seen the name, not recognise it, looked for the one I did and ascribe more value to it without really knowing why.

The point is, art is only as valuable as its ability to speak to you. If art does not stir, does not invoke, in my humble opinion it has missed its mark, and that is okay, it’s not for everyone. Yes, understanding complex art is a skill, but that initial moment where it draws you in, that is like love, it either happens or it doesn’t. 

It is really interesting and a bit surreal to see something you studied about when you were a kid in a classroom, in person. It checks a box in a way, that you’ve ‘seen’ a great work of art. But it is more important that you leave having also appreciated something that made sense to you. 

Capitalism seems to have its claws in not just the tangible, but the intangible as well; not just things, but also experiences. It is good to see as much as you can of this beautiful world, but also important to keep close to you the things that matter. And in order for you to do that, you need to tune in to yourself and learn about what you like. See everything by all means. But do keep some things close.

Sometimes you will gravitate towards something you already know and cherish, and other times, delightfully so, you will discover new things and people you didn’t know of before. 

There’s more than one good painter, and not every masterpiece needs to be a revelation—some simply need to feel right.