BARKING UP THE WRONG TREE

(Barking up the Wrong Tree, Francis William Edmonds, 1850, Birmingham Museum of Art)

The art world often takes itself a little too seriously.

That's why I am attracted to artists with a wicked sense of humor.

Such is the case with Francis William Edmonds who was known for his humorous depictions of American life.

Edmonds started his professional career as a banker in New York.

Perhaps he was a bit of a stuffed shirt at the time.

In any case, it didn't take long for him to catch a clue and enroll in the National Academy of Design.

The esteemed Mr. Edmonds wanted to be a painter.

But not at the risk of losing his day job.

He continued to work in the financial world while he studied painting at night.

After all, who knew if this painting gig was going to work out?

And why risk professional embarrassment if it didn't?

Francis decided to play it safe.

He exhibited his paintings under the pseudonym E. F. Williams.

As things turned out, Edmonds' paintings met with favorable reviews.

So he dropped the false name and the rest, as they say, is history.

Early on, Francis was known for his courtship scenes.

Aww – that's sweet!

But it wasn't long before he introduced an element of humor into this genre.

“Barking Up the Wrong Tree” is a fine example.

Let's take a closer look.

Here we see a decidedly older man trying to woo a young woman.

How do we know the man is in the act of wooing?

One look at his face tells the story.

His eyes are planted directly on the woman.

He only has eyes for her.

I wonder if the gentleman has an inkling of how this is going to go turn out?

Look at his frown.

Check out his pursed lips.

And his seriously set jaw.

He's not going into this quest with a high degree of confidence, is he?

He knows this is going to be a tough sell.

Another clue is found in Edmonds' composition of the painting.

He's placed the couple – and only the couple - in his “courting” room.

There isn't a chaperone in sight.

That's highly unusual when we consider the courting customs of the 1800's.

In fact, there were families who did not allow the courting couple to be alone at all – unless, of course, the gentleman was about to pop the question.

And how did the family know when the beau was about to pop the question?

In most families, the bride-to-be's father was in on the secret.

That's because he had already given his blessing to the beau when the suitor asked for the girl's hand in marriage.

Times have dramatically changed.

Still, it's a girl's prerogative to say “yea” or “nay” after the question has officially been “popped.”

Do we know which way our lass is leaning?

Well, she's certainly not looking at her long-in-the-tooth suitor.

She has her gaze firmly turned on us.

That's the first clue.

But there's more.

Do we detect a Mona Lisa-esque grin on that pretty face?

I believe we do!

And what category of emotion could possibly be lurking behind that sweet grin?

I've come up with one real possibility.

Perhaps that smile is saying to the suitor and to us:

“Not in a million lifetimes, honey!”

Alas, we'll never know.

But here's something I do know.

Our lady is holding a knitting needle firmly in her hand.

And it's aimed in the direction of her visitors.

I don't think she cares if the gentleman or his loyal pooch makes the first move toward her.

One of them is going to get taken out.

Unless, of course, she decides to go with Plan B.

In that case, both of them are going bye-bye.  

ORANGES

(Wrapped Oranges, William J. McCloskey, 1889, Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas)

I've never been a huge fan of still-life paintings.

It's not that I don't appreciate their quiet beauty.

It's just that they never have any people in them.

And I find people to be endlessly interesting.

But then the day came when I was standing smack dab in the middle of the Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth.

OH......MY......STARS!

I was instantly blown out of my socks by the dramatic, simplistic beauty of a painting entitled “Wrapped Oranges.”

There is absolutely nothing that I do not adore about this painting!

William J. McCloskey painted wrapped oranges many times over the span of his career.

In fact, he seemed to be unusually devoted to this limited subject matter.

Some believe he was on the hunt for artistic perfection with his multiple images of wrapped oranges.

It would certainly seem so, anyway.

We know that decorative, table top still lifes were popular during the Victorian era.

These colorfully composed arrangements usually consisted of fruit, flowers, vegetables or a combination of those objects.

And let's face it, you can't go wrong with most of Mother Nature's productions!

Indeed, you can not open an interior design magazine these days without seeing many references to “organic” decorative design.

Elements in nature calm our spirits and uplift our souls.

That's why they've been popular throughout the ages.

Here's a short list of some better known “organic” objects:

Water.

Trees.

Grass.

Plants.

And my personal favorite,

Shells.

All of these natural elements have been painted gazillions of times since the days of Eve.

And rightly so.

They are restful.

They are beautiful for the human eye to behold.

That's apparent when we see McCloskey's brilliantly painted oranges.

However, perhaps the most fascinating fact about these oranges is this:

Four of them are wrapped in crinkly white tissue paper.

Why?

Art technicians might use the word “contrast” to explain McCloskey's decision to use the white paper.

And contrast there is!

We have additional information from the Amon Carter about this artist's motives:

“McCloskey imparted to each specimen a distinctive character. The tissue paper acts as a veil or drape, both suggesting and subtly altering the oranges' color and form.”

Just look at that partially unwrapped orange in the background of the painting.

It looks as if the top portions of the paper have been suddenly unleashed and flung into the very air itself!

To me, those white paper protrusions look like dog ears standing at attention.

We can't avoid noticing them, can we?

That's why I find this painting to be so visually exciting.

That brilliant white paper is covered in tiny creases and folds.

This artistic device lends crackly texture to those oranges.

Where does the light fall in this painting?

Most of the light is focused on the orange nearest the black background.

To be specific, it falls directly on the paper that still enfolds the orange.

But it also falls on each of the wrapped oranges in this painting.

The color white draws light to itself.

Perhaps that's why a car salesman once told me:

“White is the number one color choice of car buyers. When we sell a white car – which is frequently – we call it a “white sale.”

Mr. McCloskey seems to know a thing or two about our innate attraction to white, doesn't he?

What about the unwrapped oranges?

For one thing, they're definitely in the minority in this work of art.

They look like dyed-in-the-wool oranges.

Their color perfectly offsets the stark black background and the brilliant white of the tissue paper.

That lends further drama and life to the painting.

Let's talk about that gorgeous table top for a minute.

Someone has been doing some serious polishing!

Or maybe it's just a spectacular varnishing job.

Either way, the gleam of that table top allows the five foreground oranges to have added time in the visual spotlight.

We could even say that those oranges are basking in their mirrored, reflected glory.

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure Mr. McCloskey wouldn't mind that assessment.

COMPOSITION IN BLUE AND WHITE

(Original work of art owned by a private collector, 2011)

As I write this, I'm gazing at an original work of art.

The gazing is taking place at my desk.

For once, I'm not standing in the middle of an art museum.

The canvas is covered in “you-can scratch-it-with-your-finger” paint.

Paint made of chemicals and compounds awash in color.

This time I don't have to settle for a copy of an original piece.

Nope.

This time, it's the real deal.

And because it's the real deal, the painting emanates “life.”

By that I mean the colors are brighter.

Deeper.

More beautiful.

The composition - the positioning of lines, shapes and curves – is cleaner.

At other times, the composition appears softer.

More defused.

This all depends, of course, on the artist's conception of his or her piece.

Alas, my painting does not have a title.

So here's a thought.......

let's give it one!

We could call it:

“Composition in Blue and White”......

After all, this painting has been thoroughly composed.

It has lines, shapes and a boatload of sinewy curves.

It's obvious that this artist has chosen to color his composition in shades of blue and white.

So “Composition in Blue and White” would definitely make logical sense

But wait a minute here.

Aren't we missing the obvious?

The painting is a portrait of a woman.

A beautifully striking woman.

Perhaps not beautiful in the Hollywood, glamor girl sort of way.

Rather, she is beautiful because she reminds us of a living, breathing woman.

There is life in her rosy countenance.

And radiance in her large blue eyes.

It would be a travesty for this woman to continue her existence in this nameless condition.

Pardon my politics, but far too many women have roamed the earth nearly nameless.

Or worse yet – forgotten.

We can instantly remedy that.

From this moment on, this woman will be known as “Joanna.”

Don't you love that incredible headdress “Joanna” is wearing?

It seems massive at first.

But the more you look at it, the more it speaks perfection.

Part of it resembles a kind of contemporary crown.

Other parts of it encircle the woman's forehead and cheeks, delineating the features of her face.

Mostly, the headdress acts as a flowing drape, giving weight and balance to the subject's head and neck.

This effect is not unlike Rogier's ethereal veil in his “Portrait of a Lady” which we discussed a few weeks ago.

The scriptures tell us that a woman's hair is her crowning glory.

But not in this case.

Here we see but a few golden tendrils peeking out from the drapery.

In this case, it is the woman's magnificent headdress that is her crowning glory.

I can't leave “Joanna” without talking about her stunning blue bodice.

If you could see the painting in real life, you would see many, many tones of that beautiful blue.

All of these hues – when expertly blended by the eye of a seasoned artist - result in the striking shade you see here, a mesmerizing“royal” blue.

“Joanna” was painted by an artist not normally known for his “splash-it-on-the-canvas” portrait work.

He is by trade a successful digital artist.

And that's a horse of a different color.

When he feels the need to escape cyberspace, John William Thomas, likes to play with his paints.

And that's how “Joanna” came into being.

Simply put, I adore her.

She lights up my life each time I glance in her direction.

And one more thing......

I'm kind of related to the talented Mr. Thomas.

He happens to be my son-in-law.  

PULP COUTURE

(Florentine gown worn by Eleanora of Toledo, as interpreted by Isabelle de Borchgrave)

There's no doubt about it.

It's more than a little scary and beyond bold for an art lover to write about an art exhibit she has never seen.

But that's exactly what I'm going to do.

That's because I've got a feeling deep in my bones that Countess Isabelle de Borchgrave is an artist wildly deserving of that leap of faith.

Oh so many years ago, Isabelle fell in love with pencil drawing as a little girl in Belgium.

She treated every surface in her room as a canvas.

Even her walls and floors were not off limits.

As a teen, she studied at the Centre des Arts Decoratifs and the Academie Royale des Beaux-Arts in Brussels where she created, among other things, drawings of still lifes and model figures.

Later, she diversified her interests and began making clothes for friends.

Eventually, she opened her own design studio where she created dresses, scarves, and jewelry for a larger audience of buyers.

Isabelle's true love was fabric design and that was the common thread that ran through each of her artistic creations.

Then one fateful day – like most art lovers on the planet – she stepped inside the beloved halls of New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Inside the Met, Isabelle began to imagine a new world of period costumes.

But this time things were different.

Isabelle did not dream up costumes made of fabric as one would properly expect from this creative genius.

No, Isabelle's newest line of costume dresses would, instead, be made of paper.

That's right.

PAPER!

Before long, Isabelle began work on four collections of painted, paper, period costumes.

Her first collection, “Paper in Fashion,” examined 300 years of fashion history – everything from Elizabeth I to Coco Chanel.

Next, she delved into the fashion culture of 19^th century Venice with a collection entitled “Mariano Fortuny.”

Her third collection, “I Medici,” brought Renaissance fashion to life by displaying prominent Florentine aristocrats in their pearls, silks, velvets and sumptuous gold braiding.

(Costume of Anna de' Medici as interpreted by Isabelle) 

(Costume of Isabella de' Medici as interpreted by Isabelle)

Finally, “Ballets Russes” highlighted the talents of Pablo Picasso and Henry Matisse who designed costumes for Sergei Diaghilev's Russian ballet company.

Then, in 1998, Isabelle's mind blowing talents hit the big time when her exhibition, “Papier a la Mode,” toured France, the United States and Asia.

“The New York Times” called this popular paper costume review “pure delight.”

As the exhibition traveled, Isabelle continued to create new costume designs – all in paper - for some of history's most illustrious fashion leaders:

Queen Elizabeth of England,

Marie Antoinette of France,

and the Empress Eugenie, consort of Napoleon III,

to name a few.

Oh, I should tell you that Isabelle managed to knock out a a few Ottoman kaftans in paper while the exhibit was planted in Turkey.

This, my friends, is not a woman who lets dust gather under her feet!

Speaking through the “Daily Telegraph,” Isabelle talked about her commission for the John F. Kennedy Library and Museum in Boston.

She said: “Jackie Kennedy's wedding gown was dusty and fragile, wrapped up in black tissue paper. The silk was dead, you couldn't touch it any more. It was preserved like a relic. The original is dead, but the paper copy I created brings it back to life.”

Here's my favorite factoid about Isabelle:

In 2004, Isabelle designed and fashioned a painted paper dress for Queen Fabiola of Belgium. The queen actually wore this gown to the wedding of Prince Felipe of Spain in Madrid!

How does this mega-talented woman use paper and paint to fashion a gown?

The beginning of Isabelle's creative process starts with sheets of paper which measure approximately three by five feet.

Next, she gathers a large collection of brushes and paints and places them on a ginormous linen covered table in her studio.

Then she goes to work painting her paper masterpieces.

“The New York Times” makes the following comment about Isabelle's creative process:

“Her colors are very much inspired by her travels: reds from the roses of Turkey, earth hues from Egypt, blues from Greece...de Borchgrave produces astonishing effects of scintillating color, weight, transparency and texture. Her renderings of diaphanous gauzes are especially astonishing.”

In 2008, a beautifully illustrated book entitled: “Paper Illusions: The Art of Isabelle de Borchgrave” was published in America.

Within just a few weeks, “The New York Times” said the book was “one of the best gift books published in 2008.”

It the book's introduction, world renowned fashion designer, Hubert de Givenchy, says:

“Isabelle is one of a kind; with a single sheet of paper, she creates the most beautiful dresses, the finest costumes, or, simply, a chain of white roses...whether it becomes a shoe, a hat or a few strings of pearls, Isabelle transforms paper the way a musical virtuoso plays an instrument.”

High praise, indeed.

So without further adieu, I bring you three concluding photos of Eleanora's breathtaking ensemble as it was envisioned by Isabelle de Borchgrave.

Enjoy!

 (Eleanora's gown in all its frontal splendor)

 (The posterior view)

(Eleanora's pearl headdress and necklace)

NOTES TO MY READERS:

Much of the information in this blog was gleaned from Wikipedia.

Some of the photographs were taken from the book: “Paper Illusions: The Art of Isabelle de Borchgrave.”

And finally, Eleanora's stunning Renaissance gown was inspired by a portrait painted by Bronzino which hangs in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

I reviewed this very painting in an earlier blog on January 9, 1012.

PORTRAIT OF A LADY

(Portrait of a Lady, Rogier Van Der Weyden, 1462, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)

Little did I know at the middle of March that I would be taking a four month sabbatical from writing.

A trip to Paris and Italy with our dear friends S & R kept me away from my desk for three weeks.  As soon as we arrived home, we got busy painting walls and assorted other surfaces at both of our daughters' homes.  Immediately after that siege of work, this thought popped into my head:  "Hey, as long as we've got our brushes and drop cloths out, why don't we paint a bunch of walls at our place?"

So we did.

Somewhere along the line, Bob and I managed to squeeze an art crawl into the mix which took us to Omaha, Kansas City and St. Louis.

Before we knew it, our two perfect grandchildren dropped in for their annual summer visits - one at a time, you understand.  These visits consist of  seven days of complete grandparental spoilage.  And, frankly, Bob and I are experts when it comes to this kind of work.  The kiddos, oddly enough, seem to be 100% behind us as well.

So here we are at the tail end of July.

And here I am with my first blog in just over four months:

******

Why beat around the proverbial bush?

I'm just going to come right out and say it:

This scrumptious painting by Northern Renaissance artist, Rogier van der Weyden, knocks my socks off every time I see it.

Though it may be possible to list 60 bajllion reasons why this work of art deserves its high and holy status, I'll mention just a few.

First of all,  it was painted by "Rogier" himself.

Rogier van der Weyden is a total VIP in the world of art.

That's why he's known by his first name.

Think "Madonna," Cher,"  "Michelangelo," and "Leonardo."

All known by their first names because they reached the stratosphere of public recognition in their respective fields of work.

Art historian, Lorne Campbell,  makes the following statement about Rogier's "The Magdalen Reading," which just happens to illuminate the banner of this blog:

"The Magdalen Reading" is one of the great masterpieces of fifteenth-century art."

No kidding.

The facts of Rogier's life are sketchy due to the loss of archival material back in 1695 and again in 1940.

But I can tell you that he was born in Tournai in modern-day Belgium in 1399.

Or maybe it was 1400.

We know the names of his parents and the woman he married in 1426.

And the fact that Rogier was made town painter of Brussels in 1436 is carved in stone.

He left no self-portraits so we don't know what he thought of himself in a painterly sense.

We know that several of his most important works were destroyed during the late 1600s.

OH......MY......STARS!

What have I missed of this brilliant person's art?

We also know that nineteenth century art historians often attributed his work to others.

That's injustice of the first degree!

We know that he studied with Renaissance Master, Robert Campin, during the latter part of his life.

And it wasn't long before Rogier mastered his master.

Eventually, he actually influenced the artistic work of Campin as well.

To top things off, Rogier left no signed or dated paintings.

So, dear readers, I stand corrected.

The facts about Rogier's life are more than just "sketchy."

They are ridiculously sketchy!

But, then again, does it really matter?

Not when we've got this gorgeous portrait to gaze at.

I wish I could show this portrait to you in real life.

I can't.

But my dear friends, K & M will soon have the chance to get up close and personal with this mysterious beauty.

And I'm totally envious of them!

I hope they end up loving her as much as the rest of the world does.

No one really knows who this woman is.

There are no clues except for one in particular.

Because of her ladylike, poised bearing and serene facial expression, we assume that she is a member of the nobility.

In my opinion, this portrait speaks perfection.

I've looked - trust me I have! - but I simply can't find anything wrong with  this work of art.

Rogier was the consummate technician.

That's the understatement of like......forever.

He knew how to use line and color to evoke emotions within his sitters and within his viewers as well.

And that takes talent, my friends.

Lots and lots of talent.

Look at the sharp diagonal lines of our lady's veil.

Those lines draw us immediately into the painting.

The misty white, ethereal fabric of her veil is mesmerizing, isn't it?

Especially when that veil is displayed against a stark black background.

The delicate transparency of the veil is something to behold.

Every time I see this work of art, I am touched by the beauty, the grace, and the subtlety of Rogier's unforgettable veil which barely grazes this gentlewoman's  forehead.

The veil falls just over the sitter's eyebrows.

This allows the fabric to frame and accentuate the features of our lady's face.

This is a woman with model-like cheekbones!

Gentle curves and sublime colors define the beauty of her face.

Her complexion appears to be flawless, doesn't it?

And what about those intoxicating lips?

They are stained with just the right touch of sienna-tinged coral.

Those lips are echoed in the color of the belt that elegantly cinches her tiny waist.

Our lady is not laden with a mass of baubles and flashy doo-dads.

The simple elegance of this beauty speaks volumes.

I think there might be a lesson in that for all of us.

Rogier's emotionally expressive, superlative paintings have influenced a literal world of followers.

How do you explain the kind of talent that Rogier possessed?

It is God blessed and God given.

There can be no other explanation.

SOMETIMES YA JUST GOTTA LAUGH: DOXIE THE DASHER

("Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash", Giacomo Balla, 1912, Buffalo Museum of Art, Buffalo, NY)

My sisters and I hounded our parents about getting a dog for years.

We were relentless.

It took a good long while but eventually Mom and Dad caved in.

I remember the day Dad arrived home with the precious pooch in tow.

My sisters and I were awe struck as we sat on the living room floor staring at our new pet.

We named this red-brown wonder, "Happy," for what I hope are obvious reasons.

Happy stared right back at us.

Who knows what he was thinking but it may have been something like this:

"Jeesh, there's three of them - all females.  And that doesn't count the mom.  I'm gonna be squeezed, pinched, carried and slobbered on to within an inch of my life."

And that's pretty much what happened.

We loved that dachshund.

Happy was your basic dog.

Sweet.

Good tempered.

He liked to sniff things.

Happy was definitely not the fastest canine on earth.

This, of course, was largely due to his short, stubby little legs.

My heart went out to him every time we went on a walk.

His paws were scrambling as fast as they could go on the pavement.

That's why I was totally tickled the day I discovered Giacomo Balla's wonderful painting, "Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash."

As I stood gazing and smiling at Giacomo's peppy puppy, I was instantly reminded of my own beloved Happy.

What has Giacomo given us in his unusual painting?

A low view point, for one thing.

We don't see the whole woman walking the dog.

We see her feet and a few inches of her dress.

Balla is telling us that the human perspective isn't important in this painting.

But we can't miss Doxie!

She's up close and personal, isn't she?

We're really getting a dog's view of the world here.

And that's a nice change-up.

Most art critics agree that Doxie has eight tails.

Not literally, of course.

It simply looks like she has eight tails.

Balla's multi-layered brush strokes are a symphony of frenetic movement.

Words like "flurry" and "blurry" come to mind the second we see this prancing dog.

Balla's beautiful application of paint reminds me of feathery, black Spanish lace.

I see an intricate, delicate patterning of lacy veiling everytime I look at Doxie's whirling paws.

I love Doxie's flip-floppy ears - they are blowing in the breeze as she hurries through space.

Doxie is tethered to her owner by a silver chain that arcs back and forth in rhythmic movement as the walkers continue their promenade.

That silver chain ties not only Balla's walkers together, it also adds drama and interest to the overall composition of his painting.

Every turn of Balla's brush evokes feelings of joyful motion!

Giacomo, born in Turin, Italy, began working in a lithograph print shop at the tender age of nine.

At the age of 20 he decided to study painting at local art academies in Turin.

After marrying Elisa Marcucci in Rome in 1895,  Giacomo worked as an illustrator, caricaturist and portrait painter in that esteemed city.

Later, Balla became a leading member of the Italian avant-garde group, the Futurists.

This art movement focused on creating pictorial depictions of light, movement and speed.

That bit of information brings us back to our speedy Miss Doxie.

She's short in stature.

She's long in body.

But, my stars, can that girl get a move on!

She's inspiring me to get up and move my own creaky bones.

And that's a good thing.

Because I've got some serious hoofing to do in massive art museums in the near future.

Yup.

There's gonna come a point when my aching "dogs" are gonna win out over the luscious Leonardos, the rapturous Raphaels and the magnificent Monets.

So when that happens, I'm gonna think about Doxie the Dasher the very minute I want to sit on my duff and whine about my aching feet.

Then I'm gonna bounce back up and start spinning my wheels.

Knowing me, I'll probably fall back down onto the gallery bench and promptly pass out.

That will be the signal for me to move on to "Plan B" which looks pretty much like this:

I'll get down on all fours and crawl like a baby through the Louvre's Italian Salon.

Thank heavens, Miss Doxie won't be there to see me!

SOMETIMES YA JUST GOTTA LAUGH: THE WACKY IN-LAWS

("The Groom Presenting the Bride to His Mother," Jacob van Oost, The Younger, 1680, Columbia Museum of Art, Columbia, South Carolina)

If you are not one who finds in-law relationships "amusing," you will probably wonder why I have chosen this painting for the "Just Gotta Laugh" series.

Please allow Dr. Merry to explain some basic facts of married life.

First of all, you never marry one person when you tie that blissful marital knot.

No, indeedy!

You marry that one person AND that one person's entire family.

At least it sure seems like it for a lot of folks out there.

Let's have a little reality check:

Many people have never heard of - gotten a glimpse of - or spoken a word to their future in-laws until that awkward, scary moment when "THE MEETING" finally takes place.

In fact, in many cases the in-law mate would not even know their in-laws existed if it wasn't for the institution of marriage that brought them together in the first place.

And yet, in-law mates are expected to accept, honor and love their in-laws as soon as it is humanly possible to do so.

Preferably within 42 seconds of the initial meeting.

Jacob Van Oost, The Younger's painting, "The Groom Presenting the Bride to His Mother," is a wonderful visual representation of that fateful, first time meeting between the future daughter-in-law and her mother-in-law to be.

Painter Van Oost was known for his beautifully balanced compositions with accents of bright, rich colors.

Just look at the bride's canary yellow gown!

It literally pops off the canvas with light, volume and delicate flourishes.

We see a bevy of silky pleats, tucks, braids and at least one hard-to-miss bow.

What about that regal, stand up lace collar with its matching cuffs?

That gorgeous gown is dripping in the finest Flemish lace.

"Mom's" ensemble doesn't fare quite so well, does it?

In fact, her dress - although accessorized by a beautiful lace collar, cap and cuffs - is, to say the least, a bit underwhelming.

Perhaps this woman is a widow in mourning.

That would certainly account for the missing father-in-law as well as for the mother's dark, drab attire.

I've gotta say that I'm loving that peachy peek-a-boo sleeve and those apricot leggings the groom is sporting.

Look closely at the opening of his waistcoat.

A peach colored tie is hanging demurely inside his coat.

There's just a smidgen of silky peach fabric turned back toward us, the viewers, isn't there?

And what about that spiffy little bow that fastens the sides of his coat together?

I'm thinking that this young gentlemen is stylin' to the nth degree!

Well, enough about the threads.

Let's get to the real fun - an examination of this family's bodily expressions.

First of all, no one is smiling.

We can't really fault them for that because portrait smiling wasn't chic in the 17th century.

A lot of folks wanted to hide their not so gorgeous teeth.

For me, the hands in this portrait are mesmerizing.

The bride' fingers on her left hand are clasping that fan for dear life.

The groom's left hand is gently grasping the right hand of his bride in a typical chivalraldic hold.

Nothing unusual there.

But look at the groom's right arm.

It is completely outstretched and angled toward his mother.

With that definite pose, the groom seems to be inviting his bride into his mother's circle of influence.

Notice the fingers of his right hand.

They are bent and curled inward fist-like.

I may be crazy - that's a story for another time -  but I think this dedicated son is feeling some definite stress here!

"Mom's" hands are planted languidly but firmly in her lap.

They appear to be contained, non-inviting and partially hidden as well.

Body language speaks volumes, doesn't it?

Let's take a a look at the subjects' eyes.

Initially, I thought the bride's eyes were focused on her mother-in-law.

They are not.

In reality, she is staring out into the far distance - certainly in the direction of her mother-in-law but she is not looking specifically at her.

"Mom" is sitting too far back in the foreground for the bride's eyes to be focused on her.

And who is "Mom" looking at?

Why, us, of course!

Even though her head is turned to her left in the direction of her son and daughter-in-law, she's clearly got her eyes trained on us, the viewers.

What about the man of the moment?

Now it gets tricky, doesn't it?

At first glance it looks as if he is looking at his lovely bride-to-be.

But is he?

Although this could be a close call,  I think he's actually looking at us, the viewers.

This is the way I see our dapper groom:

I think part of him wants to look at his bride.

And he knows he should be looking at his bride.

But he's not looking at his bride.

Not really.

Why should we care about who's looking at whom anyway?

Here's a thought:

If the eyes really are the "windows to the soul" as many of us have been taught to believe, it matters a lot!

We read emotions through the portals of the eyes.

By studying the eyes, we are often able to decipher a person's true feelings.

What, then, might our bride be feeling?

Since she's not looking at either her groom or her mother-in-law, she may well be thinking something like this:

"Gee, on second thought,  I'm not so sure I want to sign up for a lifetime with these people.  When's the next coach out of here?"

What about "Mom's" feelings?

Because she is looking directly at her viewers, I think it is obvious she is drawing us into the emotional drama of her touchy situation.

It's as if she is thinking:

"People!  Are you paying attention here?  Does my beloved son look happy to you?  And just who is this canary colored interloper who is swooping in to take my son away from me?"

Finally, there is the young man himself.

What does he seem to be telling us with his eyes?

I think this boy is seriously conflicted!

He is quite literally caught up in the middle of this emotionally charged situation.

He wants his bride to have good feelings for his mother - what son wouldn't want that?

And he wants his mother to have good feelings toward his bride for the same reasons.

I believe those eyes of his are bringing us, the viewers, into his dilemma.

He might be thinking something like this:

"Do you folks see what kind of a mess I'm getting into here?  I'm starting to get some serious cold feet!  Do I really want to marry this woman?  And if I do marry her, will she and Mom learn to live together peacefully? Or will they end up killing each other?"

Ahh - family life - the "fun" never ceases, does it?

Nope.

Not when you're dealing with a myriad of personalities - all with highly intact egos.

I'm convinced that the only way to stay sane - and alive - in the midst of some family interactions is to use a liberal dose of humor.

I'll let ya'll know the second that starts workin' for me.