Among the Italians, with Antonio Canova

Screeeee!
This is what I sound like when I get excited. And what am I excited about, you ask? That today I'm covering one of my favorite pieces - and sculptors - of all time, Antonio Canova. I'm so tempted to put up a pic of the best first, but you know...last the best of all the game, right? Restraining myself with every fiber of my being, the first thing I will do is introduce you to Canova.

 

This is a self-portrait of Canova from Wikipedia (at first I thought, hmm, he's kind of handsome in his own right, but when I saw another less-attractive painting of him thought he must've been portraying himself in a flattering light). Canova was born in the Republic of Venice, his father died before he was three and his mother remarried and left him with his grandparents, which turned out to be a good thing, because they were loving and kind people.
After Canova spent his early life studying, he got to work. When nine years had passed, he learned the art of stone carving of the marble found in the Carrara mountains in Italy. This is where his work gets good.

He did several different works of women in dancing poses, and many of them are just called Dancer or Girl Dancing. They're all very beautiful, and I especially like this one. The gesture is halfway between passive and aggressive, as if caught in-between poses or movement. Canova had a way with the form, making it sort of soft and subtle, and letting the fabric drape over it in such a way that it doesn't detract from the beauty of the figure.

 

The Penitent Magdeline is one of my favorite pieces, and one that I recently discovered. I hadn't ever seen this, and when I saw my husband looking at it asked who did it. He gave me one of those, "Are you serious?" looks and told me Canova did it. He knows I should know that. Everything about this sculpture screams vulnerable, humble, and opening herself to God who can take and heal her. Maybe it speaks to me for that reason alone, that I have found myself before in a similar position. The word that comes to me here is Hope.

 

 

This is the sculpture of Hebe, the goddess of youth in Greek mythology. The background is, of course, the Hermitage, which you can tell just by looking at the design and gold leafing on the walls. What a perfect place to display marble sculpture of Canova's talent!

 

 

Ah, the icing on the cake! There's the hermitage again, in the background. I had the opportunity to see this in person back in 2001, and it was amazing. My husband saw another copy more recently in the Louvre. This is by far his most well-known piece, and you can surely see why. It is an incredibly romantic sculpture, one that even inspired me to write a short story about Cupid & Psyche.

 

 

Here's another view (this one from the Louvre). It's so timeless, isn't it? If Canova was trying to convince us of true love, he succeeded with this one. Absolutely fantastic.

 

Make sure to check out some of Canova's other works including The Three Graces, Theseus and the Minotaur (again, subtle in a good way), and the Tomb of Duchess Maria Christina of Saxony Teschen.

 

Until next time, I'll be deciding which Italian artist to cover next. Have an amazing day!