Indeed, the opportunity to view such paintings is frequently the reason for planning a trip or holiday. In the present era we do this with a mobile phone in hand, with access to a plethora of pages that explain the paintings in question in great detail, suggesting where to look, from what angle, and how to appreciate the painted world. Such prompts will probably be with us forever, unless the power goes out.
As long as we retain our own feelings, our own casual glances, our own opinions, everything is fine.
The term „older paintings” is used to describe those works of art that have been created prior to the advent of the contemporary iconosphere of mass culture. Such paintings are those of Rene Magritte, whose motifs have become ubiquitous in popular culture. Magritte’s work often employs a teasing and indirect approach to the viewer, encouraging them to consider connections between his art and other, older paintings. These connections may not be immediately apparent, yet they are there for those willing to look beyond the surface of the work.
In the second half of the 1960s, Magritte painted La Leçon de musique, which repeats the title behind the conventional name of a three-hundred-year-older painting by Johannes Vermeer.
For a Vermeer, the painting is relatively large (74 × 64.1 cm), and its numerous distracting details are particularly fascinating. These include the patterns on the carpets, the whiteness of the jug, the clipped portrait on the wall, and finally the mirror, which is a mirror of a size that in the 17th century was a solid sign of status and wealth.
In order to ascertain the meaning of the title, it is necessary to consider the image as a whole. This necessitates a process of elimination, whereby the viewer must look beyond the distracting details and focus on the wall itself. This allows us to identify the facial features of the individual depicted, who is presumably engaged in some form of practice or rehearsal.
In the context of our inherited twentieth-century hypersensitivity, the mirror represents a space where perspectives are intertwined, gazes are confused, threads are lost, and suggestions are made. It is plausible to suggest that these characteristics may have influenced the role of a particular Vermeer painting in Hitchcock’s 1964 film Marnie (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marnie_(film). The painting is present in the film and serves as a visual representation of the complex dynamics between men and women, the secrets from the past, and the investigations that fail to provide a comprehensive explanation. Hitchcock’s ability to identify crucial details that later proved to be pivotal is well-documented. In Vermeer’s work, it can be argued that he was interested in the enigmatic nature of the scene „played out” in the final foreground, which is presented in such an artfully haphazard perspective, with so many confusing obliques. This perspective is reflected by a mirror that turns the clarity of a rich bourgeois interior into a tangle of glances leading nowhere, of broken threads, of echoes that sound as they please. Magritte employed a comparable range of insinuations, suggestions, and multiple meanings.
Let us endeavor to emulate the perceptive and astute detective persona that we associate with Connery, regardless of the role he is portraying. After all, we have at our disposal smartphones that offer us access to a wealth of information at our fingertips.
It is necessary to examine closely those passages in both Magritte and Vermeer that, like a mirror image, like an echo, switch sides, shift accents, mark something seemingly clearly, but which is easy to miss, not to hear, overlook, in the face of so much other clear information. Unfortunately, in February 2024, this kind of attentive vigilance, able to point the finger at paradoxical points, at evident changes, at clear intrusions, is very much needed.
In this context, it is important to note that smartphones will not be able to provide assistance. They act as amplifiers of noise, confusing it. It is therefore necessary for the user to search for an alternative source of information that is not distorted. One such source could be light, which is ubiquitous, solid and unencumbered. In his paintings, Vermeer was keen to allow the light to emanate from the side, thus intertwining with the imaginative line of our observing gaze. This kind of weave in old paintings replaces our „net”, without which smartphones are silent. It is sufficient to weave a dense thread in which, like an ornament, any almost distinct, unexpected sense can appear.
It is evident that Magritte borrowed from Vermeer not only the title but also the direction of light. There is more in common between these paintings than initially apparent. This is why we linger in front of old paintings for longer than we intended, allowing ourselves to be absorbed by the work.
Such a process of prolonged engagement is beneficial, as it allows us to identify subtle indications of impending change. It enables us to discern the nuances of Magritte’s unconventional approach, even when it challenges our expectations.
Let us proceed with our analysis, as the last overlooked bell may suddenly give way to the unexpected appearance of apocalyptic trumpets. The bell on the bottom right, discreetly red and held by an angel, is derived from the Spanish manuscript of the Commentary on the Apocalypse by Beatus of Liéban and illustrates the ninth chapter of the Apocalypse. This chapter evokes an atmosphere reminiscent of a Hitchcock film. It is to be hoped that this will remain a fiction despite the adverse effects of climate change.
The painting La Leçon de musique by Vermeer and Magritte provides an opportunity to recreate the lost score by ear.
