Death at the Crossings by Jacquelyn Nowak

 

 

Reviewed by Jeanne

 

Sergeant Mike Minor is called to the Art History building on a college campus after the decomposing body of student Colleen Blakely is discovered in a basement storage room. The school has been on break for a couple of weeks, making determination of time and manner of death more difficult.  But that's nothing compared to the people Mike meets in the department—temperamental professors, students with grudges, and everyone absolutely obsessed with their specialty, be it African Art or Medieval Cathedrals.  The one thing that is obvious is that a lot of people wanted Colleen Blakely dead.

Set in the 1970s, there’s a bit of historical flavor to the book—although it was written in 1985, just about a decade after the fact.  The story is populated with colorful and sometimes unexpected characters.  Mike is often befuddled by the seriousness with which the suspects take art, make that ART.  He doesn’t see it himself, and wonders if these people are so incredibly cocooned in their own world that they’ve lost all sense of reality or if they’re just extremely immature.

They also like to gossip.  It seems everyone has secrets, some big, some small, and they will all go to great lengths to keep those secrets hidden. 

This was a book I just came across while shelving and decided to give it a try.  It was a debut book, and when it comes to art it seems the author knows her stuff.  I was less certain about her knowledge of policing, because it seemed to me that Mike has a lot of beers while on duty. At one point, he admits that he probably drank too much and messed up an interview.  

There were a lot of characters to keep track of, and sometimes I did get a bit confused.  Of course, confused is my natural state.  I did end up enjoying the book and was surprised by some of the twists in the final pages.  I also a bit uncertain how to take some of the views about academia, given that the author is an art historian herself. I looked to see if there were other titles by this author, but the best I can see, this is the only novel she ever wrote, which is a shame. I would have liked to read more books by her.

Rick Steves Europe’s Top 100 Masterpieces: Art for the Traveler by Rick Steves & Gene Openshaw

Reviewed by Jeanne

Rick Steves is probably one of the best known travel guide writers around.  Part of his popularity can be traced to his mission to help travelers enjoy the culture of foreign climes: the local foods, music, shopping, and art.  In this volume he has made a list of the 100 top works of art in Europe, including paintings, sculpture, and architecture and explains a bit about each to heighten appreciation for each piece.

The book is divided up chronologically, starting with pre-history (Lascaux cave paintings, for example) then moving through ancient Greece and Rome to the Middle Ages, Renaissance, Baroque, 19^th Century and ending with the 20^th century. The full color photos are lovely, and the text is informative but informal.  I could practically hear Steves’ narration and indeed there’s a list of video clips by Steves about individual pieces that are available on his free Classroom Europe site.  These is also a handy map at the back showing where the pieces are located, since some are not held where they were created.  For example, the Greek Elgin marbles are in London as are some of Dutch artist Van Gogh’s paintings. 

While serious art students might find the descriptions to be a bit simplistic, I found them to be interesting and insightful, sprinkled with Steves’ light humor. I feel that Steves’ goal is to heighten appreciation for the works, make people take time to appreciate what they are seeing and to have fun with it.  For the “Mona Lisa,” he gives a bit of the painting’s history and includes the fact that Leonardo was using “new-fangled” paints and mentions that the portrait is one of the few art pieces one can locate by sound because of all the people sure to be clustered around it. The chatty tone and feel of inside information is like catnip, making me want to keep reading.  That portrait of Louis XVI? It’s designed to show off the elderly king’s athletic legs, as well as show him as anointed by God to be a ruler. His sartorial choices were copied throughout Europe, from the lacy cravat to the elaborate wig to the red heels on his shoes.

On a couple of my favorite pieces I felt Steves didn’t explain enough or else blurred some of the facts but like Elsa I decided to “let it go.”  Those were picky things in an otherwise very enjoyable book.  If I ever head out on a trip to Europe, I’ll be sure to check this book to see what art I don’t want to miss.

Fat Cat Art: Famous Masterpieces Improved by a Ginger Cat with Attitude by Svetlana Petrova and Zarathustra the Cat

Reviewed by Jeanne

It’s no secret that I like cats—a lot—so friends tend to send me links to various memes, videos, or stories.  Back a few years ago, one such link led me to an amazing assortment of Old Master paintings which had a very large, very orange cat added to them.  It was easier to see why Mona Lisa was smiling: I would, if I was also cuddling a fat cat.  Periodically, someone else would discover this site and send me a link and every time I’d go back and look again.  

So imagine my delight to find that there is now a book collecting not only the ones I’d seen, but a whole host of new (at least to me) images!

In the preface, artist Petrova explains that Zarathustra was her late mother’s cat.  Missing her mother, a friend suggested that she use Zarathustra in her art as a way of coping with her grief so Petrova started using Photoshop to insert the feline into famous paintings.  She put a few online and more or less forgot about them until someone told her that her work was everywhere on the Internet.  Happily, she continued to produce images and this book is the result.

Roman Art

The book is divided up the same way that any art text book might be, by time period and then by geographic area.  It begins with ancient and medieval art, so there is the great Zarathustra adorning the wall of a cave alongside a prehistoric horse, integrated into a Roman mosaic, and as part of the Bayeux Tapestry.  The book has the added bonus of commentary straight from the horse’s—er, cat’s – mouth as to the origins of the particular piece.  Naturally, he employs the majestic plural as he describes the particular piece and its origin.  He also adds pieces of advice, as when he notes under the Egyptian piece “Hunting in the marshes” from the Tomb of Nebaumun:

“The Internet is a lot like ancient Egypt; people write on ‘walls’ expressing their worship of Cats.  Please, humans, don’t just write on walls.  Take the time to actually worship your Cats, please.  Right now, please go and give a good belly rub to your kitty.”

Cave Art

The book proceeds through the Italian Renaissance, Dutch and Flemish art in the 17^th century, Spanish and British art in the 17^th and 18^th centuries, and so forth.  It’s a glorious trip through art history. The illustrations have to be seen to be believed; words do not do them justice.  Petrova has been careful to match pose and lighting so that Zarthustra seems a natural part of the painting, and to print the pieces onto canvas, supplemented with appropriate pigments, oils, and gels to match the original.  In fact, this attention to detail caused a problem with a customs agent who believed that the painting was a true old master. 

Russian Art

I can’t say that I blame him.  The work is so convincing that it’s easy to believe that they are indeed real.  Who knew that da Vinci’s painting was really entitled Lady with a Cat Pretending to be an Ermine? Or that James McNeil Whistler’s composition was originally called Arrangement in Gray, Black, and Ginger? And my image of David’s Napoleon Crossing the Alps is now forever altered, as is Washington Crossing the Delaware by Leutze. Thank goodness the rebel troops had a fat orange cat to both keep them warm and guide them.

Patriotic Art

For those who are rolling their eyes at this point, let me add that these are best enjoyed by those who know the original artwork.  I was as fascinated by the art that I didn’t recognize as those pieces I did, and was intrigued enough to look up the originals—which is what Petrova hoped people would do. Opinions may differ, but other than my dear old Art History professor Betty Gilliam, I can’t think of a better guide to the world of classic art than an orange, egocentric, fat cat.

Gothic Art

While you’re waiting for the book, check out http://fatcatart.com/.  Besides a lovely assortment of “improved” paintings, there are usually links to various galleries for views of the less adorned versions.

"It's about time feline art received its due!" ~ Elmer