Artists and the Camera Obscura

Long before the idea was conceived to permanently record optical images through chemical processes--the essence of photography--the means were available to produce the images themselves. The camera obscura is a simple optical device that had been available for hundreds of years. It could project an image of the world onto a wall or screen, much as a modern camera captures an image before storing it digitally or on film. The name camera obscura, Latin for "dark room," is a simple description of the first such device. A pinhole in the side of a dark room is used to project a precise image of the outside scene on the inside wall opposite the hole.

The Greek philosopher Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) described the phenomenon as early as the 4th century B.C. Chinese and Muslim scholars developed models more than a thousand years ago. In the late 15th century, Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) wrote about the camera obscura in one of his notebooks. There is no evidence that Leonardo actually used the device in creating his own drawings and paintings. But he clearly described its possible application to art. It was thus inevitable that other artists would experiment with this simple technology to bring real-life images onto a two-dimensional surface. Human vision analyzes optical phenomena through complex mental processes. It involves the mind as well as the eye. The camera obscura could reproduce the building blocks, the pure optical effects, with a degree of realism that was until then unimaginable.

The most obvious limitation to the early camera obscura was that the projected image was extremely faint. Only the brightest objects, such as the sun itself, could produce a crisp image. Therefore, the most common early usage was for astronomical observations. In particular, scientists could study eclipses and other solar phenomena without risking damage to the eyes.

A significant advance occurred in the 16th century with the addition of a convex lens in place of the simple pinhole. The lens made it possible to concentrate more light into the image. This made it brighter, sharper, and easier to read. Eventually, this facilitated the creation of the camera obscura as a smaller, more portable box. By the 18th century many uses were found for the camera obscura. One was making exact copies, sometimes enlarged or reduced, of maps and other similar objects.

Since the advent of modernism and the rise of abstraction in painting during the early 20th century, we have come to think of realism as but one mode of art, one option among many in choosing an approach to painting or drawing. Before the invention of photography in the 19th century, a stated goal of much Western art was to present and preserve a lifelike image of the world. Indeed, it was generally assumed for centuries that the most important goal in any pictorial representation was that the object depicted be as similar to the object itself as possible. The camera obscura was able to produce a precise two-dimensional image of an actual three-dimensional object or scene. It introduced an entirely new set of possibilities.

It is hardly surprising to learn that artists experimented with optical technology. Although clear information is rare as to which artists used the device and to what extent, many famous painters are associated with the camera obscura. The British painter Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792) owned one. And the camera obscura that once belonged to the Italian master Antonio Canal (1697-1768), better known as Canaletto, is now preserved in the Museo Correr in Venice. An intriguing 1770 drawing of Windsor Castle by Thomas Sandby, now in the collection of Queen Elizabeth II, is inscribed "drawn in a camera T. S." The inscription indicates a certain pride in the achievement.

Of all the artists who may have used a camera obscura, none has attracted more attention than the 17th-century Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632-1675). In examining Vermeer's Girl with the Red Hat (1665-1666; National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.), the viewer is taken with the reflected highlights that are similar to "circles of confusion." Such effects are common in photography but alien to human vision. 

When a camera is slightly out of focus, a reflected highlight appears, not in the shape of the reflective surface, as the naked eye would see it, but rather as a round ball of light, a so-called circle of confusion. In another Vermeer painting, The Letter Reader (ca. 1657; Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden), the contrast between the blurriness of the carpet on the table in the foreground and the sharper focus of the woman in the middle distance exactly mimics the effect produced by a modern camera.

It is unlikely, however, that Vermeer used the camera obscura to create these paintings. The limited technology of the period would have made it difficult to paint such a masterly work from the image of an unwieldy camera obscura. The authors of the catalogue to the 2001 Metropolitan Museum of Art exhibition Vermeer and the Delft School made an important observation. It is far more likely that Vermeer studied the distinctive qualities produced through a camera obscura and used these discoveries as he would any other visual experience. The master painter most likely added them to his pictorial vocabulary and utilized them in his own way within his work.

Allegory and the Unicorn Tapestries

The unicorn tapestries are among the world's best-known works of handwoven patterned fabric. Usually on display at the Cloisters, the branch of New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art devoted to medieval art, they are rich in detail and allegory. Composed of seven fabric panels, they were created both for warmth and to inspire storytelling. They are among the finest examples of the ancient art of tapestry--and perhaps the most enigmatic.

Thought to have been designed in France and woven in Brussels between 1495 and 1505, the unicorn tapestries were created primarily from wool, using silk and metallic thread. They present scenes of a hunt for the unicorn, a mythological creature usually depicted as a large white horse with a long horn growing out of the center of its head. All seven panels have sustained some damage, and only fragments of the fifth remain. Yet they have such realistic detail that observers have identified most of the plant life shown. Some of the flora is shown in the landscape and garden settings, while other examples are evident in the millefleurs background. To the medieval viewer the plants appearing in the tapestries would have represented not only cures for human ills but also symbols of deeper truths.

Speculation concerning the commissioning and narrative meaning of the tapestries falls into two main camps. One theory holds that the initials A and a reversed E joined by a bow, an emblem of Anne of Brittany (twice the queen of France), indicates their connection with Anne and her husband Louis XII. The same theory suggests that in the sixth tapestry the lovers are Anne and Louis. Another hypothesis links the A and E to Antoinette of Ambroise, the wife of Francois, duc de La Rochefoucauld. The initials F and R have been sewn into the sky of the third tapestry, and an inventory of records for 1680 showed the tapestries as belonging to La Rochefoucauld. In 1793, during the French Revolution, the tapestries were taken from the family's chateau in Verteuil (peasants apparently used them to protect produce), but they were recovered in the 1850s. The tapestries were purchased by John D. Rockefeller, Jr., in 1922 and were donated to New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1937.

Another focus of discussion concerning the tapestries is the nature and meaning of the allegorical tale they tell. Do they represent a tale of courtly love, or do they depict the life of Christ? This question has been asked of another allegory, the Song of Solomon, or Song of Songs, in the Bible. The surface story of the Song chronicles the sometimes stormy relationship between man and woman, and some scholars say its meaning is just that. Others say that the Song concerns the relationship of Christ to the church. The debate over the tapestries runs a similar course. Although the surface theme of the unicorn tapestries is the struggle between the mythical unicorn and those pursuing it, the symbolism could suggest that the tapestries were created either to celebrate courtship, matrimony, and fertility or to depict the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Christ.

The Start of the Hunt introduces the hunters but not the unicorn. Hunting with trained dogs in the late Middle Ages was an activity of the nobility, and hunters in the tapestries are dressed in fine clothing, a clue to their rank.

In the second tapestry, The Unicorn Is Found, the unicorn uses his magical horn to remove a snake's venom from the water. It is here that the theory regarding Christian symbolism begins, with the unicorn seen as a symbol of Christ saving all from the poison of Satan. 

In the third tapestry, The Unicorn Leaps out of the Stream, the hunters, their faces distorted into expressions of cruelty, could symbolize the persecutors of Christ. In the fourth tapestry, The Unicorn at Bay, the unicorn becomes savage. New on the scene is a man with a horn, who may symbolize the archangel Gabriel.

The Unicorn Is Captured by the Maiden, the fifth tapestry, is now in fragments. The remaining pieces show a young female figure and a unicorn within the confines of a walled garden; dogs are attacking the unicorn and blood can be seen running down its side. Tradition says that the unicorn can be trapped only by a virgin, and an enclosed garden was a medieval symbol of chastity. But the apple tree at the tapestry's center could be a reminder of the fall of Adam and Eve, suggesting that the unicorn symbolizes Christ and the tapestry narrative the redemption of humankind after the fall.

The sixth tapestry, The Unicorn Is Killed and Brought to the Castle, centers on the slain unicorn, who is looked upon in distress. The seventh tapestry, The Unicorn in Captivity, is the most famous of the tapestries. Here the unicorn has come back to life but is chained to a wooden gate. The risen unicorn could represent the risen Christ, but there remains the problem of the symbolism of the unicorn in chains. One theory is that the unicorn symbolizes a bridegroom secured by his lover. Another holds that the unicorn (as Christ) is forever linked to humankind.

As with the Song of Songs, the ultimate meaning of the tapestries--whose total number, seven, is a symbol of completion and perfection--continues to elude us. But this very uncertainty has preserved the story of the unicorn and stimulated interest in discovering its true meaning, perhaps as its creator intended.

Manga--A Cultural Phenomenon

Manga, a unique style of comic books created in Japan with millions of devotees worldwide, are populated with characters that are instantly recognizable for their simple lines; wide, round eyes; and "big hair." Literally translated from the Japanese as "whimsical pictures," manga began as a childhood diversion, later developing into an extremely lucrative business that produces dozens of high-circulation magazines, anime (" animation"), and video games, and they have become an integral part of Japanese society.

The contemporary version of manga dates from 1947 when Osamu Tezuka, a 19-year-old medical student, combined the rudiments of a centuries-old Japanese art form with a story based on the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson's novel Treasure Island. Tezuka's New Treasure Island sold 400,000 copies, pioneering a genre that transcends the boundaries of age, interest, and gender. Often referred to as the "father (or god) of manga," Tezuka is also credited with creating the distinctive look of manga characters, which can be seen in his most famous creation, Astro Boy, created in 1952.

Manga are usually published in newsprint-style magazines of 250 to 850 pages, each magazine featuring a number of serial stories. An individual story will take up about 30 or 40 pages, often ending in a cliff-hanger to keep the reader anxiously awaiting the next installment. A popular serial may run for years--Tezuka was still authoring Astro Boy in 1989, the year of his death (and 37 years after the serial's creation). Long-running serials usually are collected in book form to allow new readers to catch up on past events.

Like the Japanese language, manga are drawn and read from right to left. Experts point out that even in printed form, manga art tends to be cinematic and that the arrangement of manga frames, or koma, is highly sophisticated, making for a seamless presentation of the narrative. The stories themselves tend to be based on the development of character, in contrast to plot-driven American comics. It has been noted that manga characters, again unlike most of their American counterparts, grow and develop, that they display an admirable work ethic, and that they are not as focused on battling evil as are American comic-book heroes. Another interesting contrast with American comics is that the facts of one story featuring a character or group of characters are not necessarily consistent with the facts in another story featuring the same characters. Thus two characters may be best chums in one story and total strangers in the next.

The biggest contrast between manga and other comic books is, however, simply the size of the industry and its integration into Japanese society. The Japanese respect manga as an art form and a legitimate category of popular literature. Although the vast majority of manga are targeted specifically toward young boys and girls, they also include work drawn for teenagers and adults, covering literary genres as diverse as science fiction, melodrama, historical fiction, and horror stories. They are also used in travelogues and as teaching tools in manuals and educational materials. Japan even boasts manga cafes where devotees can sip coffee and catch up on the latest tales.