very grateful
Pleated fabric. Draperies as a symbol in art
Folded fabric as a visual code accumulates a powerful expressive power. Since the beginnings of classical sculpture, drapery has been a powerful visual tool. In the Middle Ages, it appeared as a symbol of luxury and holiness. In our time, the fabric gathered in folds becomes a pure artistic element to which any representative interpretation can be applied.
It is considered that drapery “elevates” any object and makes it more beautiful. Not only because it is beautiful in itself, but also because of a long tradition that has come down to us since ancient times, in the form of an endless series of works of art Continue reading
PORTRAITS as a mirror of the soul
Portrait is a realistic genre depicting a person or a group of people existing in reality. The portrait – in French reading – portrait, from the old French portraire – “to reproduce something the line in line”. Another facet of the name of the portrait lies in the outdated word “parsuna” – from the Latin. persona – “personality; individual”.
The origin of the term “portrait”
The Frenchman Andre Felibien (1619 – 1695), the official court historian of King Louis XIV, was the first to suggest that the word “portrait” be the images of exclusively “human beings”, thereby separating man from the animal and plant worlds.
The origin of the portrait genre Continue reading
Modern: Russian names.
In every country, modernity had its own name, face, and character. In Russia, the style was called art nouveau, and its representatives skillfully interweaved folklore and that mysterious Russian soul into modern art. This was done gracefully and unobtrusively.
Mikhail Vrubel. All artist demons
“Demon sitting” – a picture that can be attributed to the symbolism and modernity. According to the semantic content, this is rather symbolism, because, as Vrubel wrote, “the demon is not so much evil as suffering and sorrowful, with all this a powerful, dignified spirit”. He is a symbol of the inner struggle of man. Continue reading