Painted Light

Fra Angelico, The Virgin Annunciate, 12 x 10 inches, late 1420s


In my last post, I wrote about using a different kind of light in the painting just underway, which made me think about the different ways light has appeared throughout the history of painting. Of course, without light there is no vision and no depiction of the world, but each period of art and each artist approaches its use with different aims.

Through much of the Renaissance, form was bathed in an even light, coming from upper left or right, and this clear light-to-dark of each object gave it weight and a position in space. In early Renaissance panel paintings, shown in this post, the form doesn't achieve the full volume of later artists such as Raphael or Michelangelo, but light in these works often has a spiritual dimension. In the Fra Angelico above, the Virgin is shown in a soft light that seems to emanate from her figure. The use of gold leaf in the background intensifies this feeling.



Georges de La Tour, The Penitent Magdalene, oil on canvas, 53 x 36 inches, 1638-43


When we move into the late 16th and 17th century, light becomes a subject in itself, as with the paintings of Caravaggio, with their strong single sources of light that partially illuminate the scene, while throwing much of it into shadow. This drama is made more intimate in the works of de La Tour, who often has a candle as light source within the painting. I imagine de La Tour enjoying the challenge of depicting the specific quality of candlelight and its effect on objects and flesh. The mood in this painting––quiet, enclosed, thoughtful, isolated––makes us think of spirit, but in such a different way from the Fra Angelico. It's almost as if Magdalene is alone in her faith, while the Virgin is enveloped by a larger presence.



Johannes Vermeer, Young Woman with a Water Pitcher, 18 x 16.5 inches, 1662-3


With Vermeer, and other Dutch painters of the 17th century, light comes from a source indicated within the painting, a window or a door. Very different from the dramatic light in a Caravaggio, which illuminates a narrative, the daylight shows a mundane scene of everyday life. Each ordinary object, however, is transformed by light and clarity of form into a marvel of creation that we contemplate with deep pleasure.



Camille Pissarro, L'Hermitage a Pointoise, 59 x 79 inches, 1867


In the Impressionist landscape paintings of the late 19th century, real, visible sunlight becomes a primary subject as it shines on land and figure and building. Light had for so long been generalized that's it's surprising to see the freshness of color and light in these works. In American landscape paintings of the 19th century, such as those of Fitz Hugh Lane, light is all encompassing, not specific, an idea rather than a fact; this style was later called "Luminism". "Impressionism" was more about the eye and the fleeting effects of light, made even more vivid in the later paintings of Monet.



Persian, Sultan-Mahmud of Ghazna in Discussion with a Dervish, 7 x 3.6 inches, 1577-78



Henri Matisse, The Yellow Curtain, 57 x 38 inches, 1915


Within the sweep of 20th century painting, abstraction has been the primary mode of expression, which might seem to discount the use of light. I'd argue, however, that light is embedded within color and for a painting to be successful it must have life, and therefore light. I'm giving myself an easy example by choosing Matisse to illustrate this point, whose paintings, whether figurative or abstract, are drenched in the light of southern France. I've paired the Matisse painting with a Persian miniature that is remarkably similar in its linear composition. Both paintings use line to sensitively surround the flat forms, giving them an illusion of fullness. Both have a quality of light coming from the color itself, though in the Matisse this is enhanced by the use of transparency.

The works illustrated are just a tiny taste of the variations in light used to make form, and as subject. We each see the world a bit differently, so the way we use light in our work must be richly varied. But none of us can do without it.