Iterations: My Wednesday Meme. 12 Paintings that Tell or Suggest a Disturbing Story.

Today I've decided that my iteration will consist of 12 of my favorite paintings.  Since I am sensitive about copyright, the links will have to do!

They aren't in any particular order.   I am just listing them as they occur to me. 

All of the paintings I've listed are paintings that tell or relate to a story.  I love abstract art as well, but these are narrative paintings, photographs of a moment frozen in time. 

1.  Nicolas Poussin,  The Shepherds of Arcadia. Ever since I read Holy Blood, Holy Grail years and years ago, this numinous and enigmatic painting has fascinated me.   Is it a key, as rumored, to some lost treasure or missing piece of history?  Who is buried in the tomb?  Is the tomb really the tomb at Arques and is the landscape a reference to Rennes-le-Chateau?  Why "Et in Arcadia Ego..." (which is not even a complete sentence)?  Why did a certain king of France allegedly keep this painting hidden behind a curtain in his room? 

2.  John William Waterhouse,  The Lady of Shalott.   The website quotes the relevant passages from Tennyson's poem. Sexual love is the curse, babe.  Anyway, it's a beautiful painting; the lady is a young girl singing to herself (as in the poem) as her boat floats down the river.   Her singing is, of course, also her death.   [Takes a minute or two to load, but worth it!]

3.  John William Waterhouse, The Remorse of Nero After Murdering His Mother. Well, it would get you down, I guess.  He mainly looks like a dejected teenaged boy who has been denied the car keys or access to the internet.  Perhaps that explains the murder.

4.    Daniel Gabriel Rosetti,  The Bower Meadow. Five girls, each with that single reiterated face, and none of whom ever looks at the other, somberly disport themselves in a brightly lighted pastoral setting.  Beautiful, unearthly, enigmatic. Also a bit...creepy and self-referential.

5.   Pierre Bonnard.   The Dining Room. Bonnard's paintings just pull you in.  You wish you could be where this thoughtful little boy is sitting and see what he is seeing.  Bonnard does a lot of outdoor dining scenes with sunlight filtering through leaves and interiors looking out onto such scenes.

6.  Pierre Bonnard.   Dining Room in the Country. The person leaning on the windowsill is the artist's wife.  Her sullen, heavy glare is a curious contrast to the absolutely heart-wrenching color and light. 

7. Nicolas Poussin.  Self-Portrait. I don't know why I like it so much, except I just like Poussin.  I like it that you can see one of his paintings in the background.  Note that he appears to be wearing a masonic ring.  I don't know; there's something that appeals to me in his dark, cynical, sardonic, secretive face.  What did he know or "know" and when did he know or "know" it?

8.  Edward Burne-Jones.  The Beguiling of Merlin. In late middle age, he is caught, according to the prophesy, in Nimue's toils.  Note his expression:  he's definitely wondering if he's up to the challenge.  That was before Viagra, you know.

9. Edouard Vuillard.   The Visit.   You can see it's not exactly a joyous occasion.   

10.  Daniel Gabriel Rossetti.  The Blessed Damozel. The painting is so much weirder than the poem. There she leans, waiting for her man to die so she can be together with him like the other lovers in heaven while he lounges disconsolately (I guess), waiting to do it.  Not really all that blessed.  She looks upset or angry, surrounded with images of passionately embracing lovers (or with her fantasies of embracing her own). 

11. David Hockney.   Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Percy. One of the world's greatest cat paintings.  A shining, luminous cat perches on the lap of the disgruntled (or perhaps dyspeptic) male half of a well-to-do couple with elegant minimalist home.  His toes dig deeply into the shag carpet---heh.  The missus just stares smugly or challengingly or in a fed-up manner at the viewer.  The cat isn't interested in any of it. 

12.   Edward Hopper.   Summer Interior. An almost naked girl, apparently having just had sexual intercourse (she is wearing a shirt but is naked from the waist down, sits collapsed against her bed in a darkened room, head drooping.   Far from the green, sun-dappled interior the title suggests (and which Bonnard would give you), the room is dark, muffled, dense with heat and shadow.  It's not a reassuring picture.