Art Eyewitness Looks at the Art Scene during 2025

 

Reflections on the Art Scene during 2025

Text by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

On September 17, 1787, after three contentious months of debate and compromise, the delegates of the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia affixed their signatures to the document which would soon become the framework of the government of the United States. As they did so, Benjamin Franklin made a short, candid remark, referring to the design of a radiant sun which decorated the chair from which George Washington had presided over the convention proceedings.

The Rising Sun Armchair

 (George Washington's chair at the Constitutional Convention of 1787)

Benjamin Franklin's "remark" has gone down in history. James Madison records the moment.

Doct FRANKLIN looking towards the Presidents Chair, at the back of which a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few members near him, that Painters had found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. I have said he, often and often in the course of the Session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that behind the President without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting: But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting Sun.

"A rising and not a setting sun."

These prophetic words shall set the tone for the Art Eyewitness 2025 reflections. This year's valedictory essay, more than earlier annual reviews, is as much a look forward, as it is a reappraisal of what transpired during the past twelve months. 

It's important, however, to attend to the first order of New Years business. Our reflections and prognostications must not cause us to forget the most important duty we owe to all those who touched our lives during 2025: gratitude.

Here at Art Eyewitness, we wish to thank all and sundry in the world of art. And in our "cup of kindness" for the old year, we are adding a wee, extra dram of appreciation for:

The reopening of the Frick Collection in its magnificent 5th Ave oasis of art.

The astounding "once in an eternity" exhibition at The Met, Divine Egypt.

A sojourn with the Etruscans at the Institute for the Study of the Ancient World.

An eye-opening visit to the world of Henri Rousseau at the Barnes Foundation.

So much to be thankful for ... and yet, with the passing year, so many sobering thoughts.

From an artistic standpoint, Benjamin Franklin's comments on the difficulty of artists "to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun" is extremely astute. It really is problematic, oftentimes, to discern in a picture whether it is "sun-up" or "sun-down" as the following photos attest.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Images of sunrise & sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Top, dawn, December 25, 2025, 7:38 AM. Bottom, dusk, December 14, 2025, 4:25 PM.

It is even harder to judge whether a nation or culture is flourishing or in decline. This was the cause of Franklin's anxiety during the debates on the Constitution. Many are in a similar, pensive mood in our troubled times.

Perhaps most difficult of all is the task of discovering if the art and literature of a society is enlightening or obscuring the issues of the "day" and of the deeper, more profound principles, foundational for the security and happiness of humanity across the ages.

With Franklin's "rising and not a setting sun" remark to guide us, let's focus our thoughts on past and future.

Of immediate concern, 2026 marks the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. The Constitutional Convention of 1787 was the culmination of the search for an equitable form of representative government which commenced with the 1776 Declaration of Independence. However, as John Adams noted, the real American Revolution had begun even earlier, in the "hearts and minds" of the American people.

Red letter dates like 1776 or 1787 are often very arbitrary benchmarks. Human beings, however, need such "signposts" in order to keep their cultural bearings. During the coming year, almost all major American museums will host some sort of an exhibition observing the Semiquincentennial. 

The American Folk Art Museum has announced two thoughtful exhibitions, both opening in April 2026: Folk Nation: Crafting Patriotism in the U.S. and Self-Made: A Century of Inventing Artists. 

Anonymous U.S. artist, Situation of America, 1848. 

(New York City skyline from the Brooklyn Docks across the East River.)

 Collection of the American Folk Art Museum, N.Y.C.

The populist nature of these two exhibitions is very much in keeping with the mission of the American Folk Art Museum. But these themes are also noteworthy of the diversified, yet "inclusive" content of many contemporary exhibitions. This is an issue which looms large in the coming year.

Instead of stressing the "from the many - one" bonds of American unity, many exhibitions now emphasize the importance of the individual artist or of social groups ignored or marginalized in the established narratives of history. It is important to give credit to all, of course. But that is easier said than done. 

In the coming year, there is likely to be considerable disagreement on what is the  true nature of art in a democratic society. Our art museums, hopefully, will be places where cooler heads and open hearts prevail. 

To safeguard art museums as common ground for humanity is certainly asking and expecting a lot from institutions whose hard-working staff members already labor with complex tasks and daunting deadlines. 

Yet, museums, "shrines of the muses", are not just buildings with pictures on their walls.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the 19th century European painting galleries at The Met. At right is The Storm by the Pierre-Auguste Cot (1880).

Given the constraints of existing gallery space, the availability - or not - of important works on loan from other museums, the interest level of patrons and many another factor, mounting a successful exhibition can be fraught with difficulty. Often an exhibition of merit fails to achieve success in terms of visitor numbers for reasons beyond the control of its curators. 

A case in point was The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910, presented at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, April to July 2025.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 The entrance to The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910. The  camera comes from the collection of the Penumbra Foundation.

The New Art had much to recommend it. The design of the exhibit was visually enticing, with a number of vintage cameras to set the scene. There were superb photos on view, daguerreotypes, cartes de visite, stereographs and cyanotypes, by some of the early American masters of the lens, like Carleton Watkins.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910.

Finally, there was an important sub-theme of The New Art, namely that there are untapped riches in the photography produced in the American hinterlands beyond the celebrated studio of Matthew Brady.

Impressed though I was with The New Art, I had an uneasy, difficult-to-define "vibe" about it. I could not suppress the feeling that this exhibition was not going to achieve the full measure of success it deserved.

On July 18, 2025, The Met press office released its annual fiscal year report. FY25 was a very good year for The Met. Visitorship was 5.7 million for the year. The Met continued to make spectacular gains after the heart-rending events of 2020, when Covid-19 blighted the museum's 150th anniversary.

 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of Sargent and Paris, showing Madame X.

Several 2025 Met exhibitions registered such phenomenal attendance numbers that these stats were noted in the press release. Sargent and Paris topped the list at 427,000 visitors with more than a week to go after the press release was made public. Very encouraging was the reception of Caspar David Friedrich: the Soul of Nature, 300,000 attending. Few exhibits of German art have ever played to such a packed audience in a U.S. museum.

Alas, The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910 was not listed among 

The Met's star performers for FY25. 

Might The New Art have done so, had it been presented in tandem with a complementary exhibition? The Morgan Library's Julia Margaret Cameron and Jane Austen exhibits, shown across the hall from each other in the Morgan-Stanley galleries, did exactly that.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025)

 Gallery views of Morgan Library & Museum exhibits, summer 2025. Arresting Beauty: Julia Margaret Cameron (left);

A Lively Mind: Jane Austen at 250.

Second guessing, like this, only goes so far. Though museum directors and curators are quick to praise colleagues, supporting staff, museum board members and patron institutions, there is no substitute for leadership. A museum with a strong CEO at the helm can navigate through rough seas; without, the museum is in danger of sinking.

During 2025, two incidents, each involving a major Philadelphia art institution, testified to the maritime metaphors, above, in striking fashion.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Thom Collins, executive director and president of the Barnes Foundation

In terms of a strong museum "helmsman", one could hardly find a better example than Thom Collins of the Barnes Foundation. Nor could a better time be found to acknowledge his achievements than 2025. 

This marked the tenth year of Collins' stewardship as executive director and president of the Barnes. It was also the centennial year of the formal opening of the Barnes as an educational institute, beginning on March 19, 1925. 

Controversy long plagued the Barnes Foundation, regarding who was admitted into the inner "sanctum" of its classical edifice in suburban Philadelphia - and who was rejected. It has been Collins' overarching mission to manage the Barnes as a public institution after it relocated to center city Philadelphia in 2012. 

At the same time, Collins was tasked with continuing the "Barnes Method" of art instruction and retaining the remarkable, if idiosyncratic, arrangement of art works. These are not minor concerns nor are they duties which other museum directors must face.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing

 Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin), 1889

 

Despite an abiding dedication to Dr. Barnes' methodology, the Barnes Foundation under Collins' direction is no longer a collection preserved in "amber." When the Henri Rousseau exhibition closes at the Barnes in February, it will travel to the Musée de l’Orangerie. A sizable contingent works by Rousseau from the Barnes collection will appear in the Paris version of the exhibition. It is the first time since the international showing of Barnes' masterworks in the 1990's that a major loan of paintings from the Barnes Foundation will occur.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the Calder Garden's Museum, showing

 Alexander Calder's Jerusalem Stabile II, 1976.

The full extent of the leadership qualities of Thom Collins was revealed in 2025 by two significant events beyond the walls of the Barnes Foundation. 

On September 21, 2025, Calder Gardens, dedicated to the art of Alexander "Sandy" Calder (1898-1976), opened in Philadelphia. Located a short walk from the Barnes, the new museum will be managed by Collins and senior staff from the Barnes (though it will have its own curators). Lastly, Collins and the Barnes have been designated as the operating partner for The Pew Center for Arts & Heritage, taking the place  of the University of the Arts, which closed its doors in 2024.

Needless-to-say, Thom Collins at the Barnes has neither the time nor the occasion to ruminate about the difference between "a rising and not a setting sun." 

I wish I could write in the same positive fashion about the Philadelphia Art Museum. Sadly, indeed sorrowfully, I cannot do so.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 The East-front entrance of the Philadelphia Art Museum

On November 4, 2025, news reports began circulating that the Board of Trustees of the Philadelphia Art Museum had terminated the contract of the museum's CEO, Sasha Suda. It was, at first, a staggering announcement. But, on reflection, signs of deep trouble at the museum had become increasingly apparent.

The next day, Anne and I went to the scheduled press preview of Dreamtime, an ambitious exhibition devoted to Surrealism. Uncertainty and upset at the Philly museum were evident, confirmed by the amount of uncompleted prep work for Dreamtime. Noticeable too was the "beat the clock" determination of the exhibition design team, trying to finish assigning picture captions and mounting wall text before opening day. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Preparation for Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100 at the Philadelphia Art Museum. The painting, at left, is Le Double Secret by René Magritte. 

I have been to press previews before where work needed to be done, a "tweak" here, a "tweak" there. But never on this scale. It was a deeply distressing occasion, unlike any press preview I had ever attended. 

I am happy to say that the finished exhibition is a marvel for the eye and the mind. A special acknowledgement needs be paid to the curator of Dreamtime, Matthew Affron, truly an example of grace under pressure.

An Art Eyewitness review of Dreamtime will appear in the new year.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100

 at the Philadelphia Art Museum.

Less than a month before these events, Sasha Suda had announced a "rebranding" campaign, altering the name of the institution from the Philadelphia Museum of Art to the Philadelphia Art Museum. She did so on her own initiative and without the approval of the Board of Trustees. 

Suda's abrupt image change for the museum caught even members of the Board of Trustees off-guard. She explained her rationale in a publicity release:

The museum has unveiled a new brand that places Philadelphia front and center, celebrating the city's grit, creativity, and industrial heritage... The new identity reflects the museum's transformation into a more engaging and expansive institution."

Suda would have been more accurate in saying "expensive" rather than expansive. Ticket prices are now the same as at The Met and MOMA, $30, and food prices close to New York City levels. Closed galleries and controversial exhibit content have made for upsetting visits to the Philly museum.

Recently a guard approached us at the entrance to a photo gallery with a warning I never thought to hear: 

" Viewer discretion advised." 

These are serious problems which changing the logos on hats and coffee mugs in the gift shop is not going to address. Even replacing a museum CEO is not going to insure a welcoming environment for patrons, especially families with children.

What is true of the Philadelphia Art Museum is true of all museums. What is needed is a searching appraisal of museum culture, followed by affordable ticket prices and exhibitions which uphold core human values.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Philadelphia Art Museum merchandise, showing the new "brand" logo.

At this point in the annual Art Eyewitness essays, I try to conclude with upbeat, reassuring remarks. This year I will "make it a wrap" with one of the most beautiful and moving photos which Anne took during 2025. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, showing Tropical Forest with Monkeys, 1910 

 

This is an image worth a thousand words; a image worthy of America's 250th birthday; an image which calls to mind "a rising and not a setting sun."

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                    

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2023) Image of Sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Photo taken on December 14, 2025, 4:26 PM.

The Rising Sun Armchair (George Washington’s Chair at the Constitutional Convention of 1787) Made by John Folwell in 1779. Mahogany, height: 153.5 cm, width: 77.5 cm, depth: 58.2 cm Independence Hall, Philadelphia, PA National Park Service (NPS)

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Frick Collection, showing paintings from The Progress of Love series by Jean-Honore Fragonard, 1770-71.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Detail of the Inner Coffin of Nauny, Third Intermediate period, ca. 1050 B.C. On view in the Divine Egypt exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Rethinking Etruria exhibition at ISAW.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photos (2025) Images of Sunrise and Sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Top, dawn, December 25, 2025, 7:38 AM. Bottom, dusk, December 14, 2025, 4:25 PM.

Anonymous U.S. artist. Situation of America, 1848. (New York City skyline from the Brooklyn Docks) Oil on wood panel: 34 x 58 1/8 x 1 3/8" (86.4 x 147.6 x 3.5 cm) Collection of the American Folk Art Museum, NYC.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) View of the 19th century European painting galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At right, is The Storm by the Pierre-Auguste Cot (1880).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The entrance to The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910. The camera comes from the collection of the Penumbra Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Sargent and Paris exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing Madame X.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery views of the Morgan Library and Museum exhibits, Summer 2025, Arresting Beauty: Julia Magaret Cameron  and A Lively Mind: Jane Austen.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Thom Collins, executive director and president of the Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Calder Garden's Museum, showing Alexander Calder's Jerusalem Stabile II, 1976.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The East-front entrance of the Philadelphia Art Museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Preparation for the Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100 exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Philadelphia Art Museum merchandise, showing the new "brand" logo.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing Henri Rousseau's Tropical Forrest with Monkeys, 1910.

Art Eyewitness Essay: Spreading the Word, Sharing the Message of Art

 

Spreading the Word, Sharing the Message of Art

The Story of Drawing by Susan Owens (Yale University, 250 pages, $39.95) 

                         Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists by Nick Trend                             (Thames & Hudson, 352 pages, $65.00)  

                          The Manuscripts Club by Christopher de Hamel                           (Penguin/Random House, paperback, 624 pages, $26.00)

By Ed Voves

So many books! Each year a lifetime's worth of reading is published, so much that even experts in a particular discipline of study struggle to keep-up with the tsunami of printed works in their field.

So many images! Never in history has there been such a constantly re-stocked supply of paintings, drawings, photographs, films and digital art as today. As if that were not promise and danger enough, the potential for good and evil of AI has yet to be addressed. 

Is there cause of alarm? Are there ways for creative individuals to stay focused and remain optimistic in such bewildering circumstances? In this Art Eyewitness post, I will offer some suggestions of notable recent books which will hopefully encourage and inspire art lovers in the years ahead.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Paul Cézanne's Mont Sante-Victoire on view in the Paris to Provence exhibition at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Encourage and inspire to what end? Well, to better appreciate works of art conceived in human minds and crafted by human hands. But, even more so, to recognize the wonder of the indelible fingerprint of life in each person we encounter. 

But first, to gain some perspective on the challenges of our times, let's take a quick look at the portrait of a notable figure from France's Belle Epoque of the late 1800's. During that not very tranquil era, this gifted individual found ways to combine action and contemplation in a life rich in achievement. 

The elderly gentleman in the painting by Édouard Vuillard which introduces this essay is Théodore Duret. Clutching his cat, Duret looks apprehensive, even a bit overwhelmed. The stacks of books on chairs and tables give the room an atmosphere of creative disorder, taken to the extreme. The mass of manuscripts on Duret's desk seems to be engulfing him and his feline companion like a rising tide.

Edouard Vuillard, Théodore Duret (detail),1912

Not to worry! Théodore Duret (1838-1927) was one of the most influential art writers in France during the Belle Epoque and well into the twentieth century. Travelling to Spain in 1865 as a salesman for his family's cognac company, he met Manet in the galleries of the Prado. This chance encounter marked the start of a life-long friendship with the French artist who was then coping with the fallout from his notorious 1863 painting, Olympia.

Like Manet, Duret was an iconoclast at heart. It was Duret who coined the term avant garde and he was one of the first and most resolute defenders of Impressionism. Duret's book, Manet and the French Impressionists (English translation,1910) is still required reading for art scholars.

An intrepid traveler, Duret visited Japan during the 1870's. While there, he commenced a study of ukiyo-e prints and wrote an influential biography of Hokusai. 

Edouard Manet, Portrait of Théodore Duret,1868

Un homme formidable, as the French say! But is it possible for us today to chart a creative course through life in this age of information overload? Can we mix action and innovation with study and reflection like Duret did a century ago?

What follows is a discussion of three recent books on various aspects of art which recall the character traits of Théodore Duret: reliance on observation rather than grand theories, love of travel, interest in unconventional subjects and an openness to life.

That these books would make great gifts for loved ones or fellow art enthusiasts is also an important consideration. However, as I addressed this intimate form of sharing the joy of art in a 2023 post, I won't repeat myself on that score. Instead, the emphasis here is on art appreciation as a dynamic process, with focused reading as a key component of the endeavor. 

The first volume on our reading list was selected as book of the year for 2024 by Apollo, the prestigious art journal. It was a very, very, very good choice.

The Story of Drawing: an Alternative History of Art, written by Susan Owens, deals with a subject that many regard as a matter of "preliminary sketches", first drafts of important works of art which will follow in due course. Experienced artists know better.

"Draw Antonio, draw Antonio," Michelangelo wrote to his assistant in 1522, "draw and don't waste time."

Susan Owens, formerly a curator at the Victoria & Albert Museum, took Michelangelo's counsel to heart. In less than two hundred pages of incisive text, complemented by a authoritative glossary, Owens surveys the various forms of drawing, from the ancient Egyptian ink "doodles" on flakes of limestone known as ostracon to the use of high-tech instruments like the rotring pen.

 Amazingly in so brief a space, Owens manages to include vivid character "sketches" of artists known for their skill as draftsmen - or draughtsmen, if your're English. Generally, one important or representative drawing, selected with great care by Owens, illustrates the oeuvre of these great masters. In the case of a select few, Michelangelo, Dürer and Rembrandt, multiple images are included, demonstrating their versatility.

Michelangelo, Studies for the figure of Adam for

The Creation of Man, Sistine Chapel c. 1511;

Christ on the Cross with the Virgin and St. John, c. 1560-64

Drawings are the first impressions of artists and, like the old saying, first impressions often are the most lasting. Drawing is how artists record the world, the actual physical reality before their eyes. It is also the means by which they connect with spiritual and emotional resources within themselves.

In her discussion of the German Renaissance-era artist, Albrecht Altdorfer, Owens writes on the ultimate determinant of successful drawing: imagination.

Ink and watercolour, pens and brushes: all could be tools for recording and understanding the natural world. But they could also be a means by which the world could be experienced in ways that had more to do with the imagination than with objective reality.

Some artists continued to devote themselves to "exactitude" in drawing, just as others emphasized the rules of perspective. But the human imagination has a "mind" of its own.

In a key passage of her book, Owens discusses how Paul Cézanne came to question the canons of Western art, creating in the process his own "hard-won grammar" of drawing.

Paul Cézanne, Still Life with Carafe, Bottle and Fruit, 1906

Owens writes of Cézanne's efforts to "discover how to express the solidity of objects and their essential truths."

Pencil or brush in hand, Cézanne grappled daily with these mysteries of surface and form. As a result, his drawings are not always easy to look at: they can be messy, fractured and full of broken contours ... It is as though he were inventing a new visual language with which to express what he felt needed to be said about the world. We, the viewers, have to get to grips with it too - but are rewarded by getting to play our part in Cézanne's thought process.

This concluding remark, "getting to play our part", is essential not just in appraising Cezanne's art but all art and all artists. Without our active appreciation, most drawing would be as intelligible as time-worn inscriptions on old tombstones. Owens does such a fantastic job facilitating our participation in the process of keeping art alive, that it was with real regret that I finished reading The Story of Drawing.

John Constable, Elm Trees in Old Hall Park, East Bergholt, 1817

Owens is following-up the success of The Story of Drawing with a soon-to-be-published biography of John Constable, who is represented in the present volume with his astonishing drawing, Elm Trees in Old Hall Park, East Bergholt, 1817. Constable so loved the trees and fields of his native land that he never ventured from England. In fact, he seldom traveled far from home even in that "tight little island."

Théodore Duret, our avatar in this essay, was an enthusiastic world traveler, almost a character out of a Jules Verne novel. Travel, while not an absolutely essential element of art, does widen the field of vision and extend the range of our imagination, as it certainly did for Duret. 

The second of our suggested titles does both, without even requiring that readers stir from their armchairs.

Piazza dei Signori, Verona. Photo by Bjorn Agerbeek

Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists is the first in a new series from Thames & Hudson, with future titles slated for visits to France, Japan and the U.S. If this premier effort is any indication, the "Art  of Travel" series will go far to redefine the category of deluxe "coffee table" book. 

Yes, Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists is a big book - measuring 9.8 x 12.5 inches and weighing over 5 pounds. Yes, it's lavishly illustrated with stunning photos and several sprightly page spreads which recall vintage copies of Holiday magazine.

A map of museums, churches and other historic sites in Florence,

 Urbino and Rome, related to Michelangelo and Raphael.

 Map created by Cassandre Montoriol

The classic coffee table book was meant to be seen, admired for its design and, maybe, given a quick perusal. Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists won't be spending much time on the proverbial coffee table. 

The sheer size of the illustrations of great paintings, though many are cropped and shown in detail, is one of the most notable features of this book. Even a trip to the Ufizzi in Florence could not provide an opportunity to examine the Ognissanti Madonna "up-close and personal" to the same degree that you can with this magnificent Thames & Hudson volume.

 

Giotto, Detail of the Ognissanti Madonna altarpiece, c. 1300

The text of Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists, engaging but also authoritative, was written by a veteran travel writer, Nick Trend. Usefully organized for those planning a trip to Italy, the book carefully notes where the major works of great artists can be found in situ in churches and in museums. 

Beginning with Giotto in the 1300's and extending to Canaletto and Tiepolo in the 18th century, Trend also stresses the lives and accomplishments of the great women artists of the Baroque period. Artemisia Gentileschi, Sofonisba Anguissola and Lavinia Fontana are given equal treatment - judicious analysis and lavish illustrations - to their male counterparts. 

               Fontana Maggiore, Perugia, photo by Frank Krautschick;                

    Prato della Valle and Basilica di Santa Giustina, Padua, photo by Andrea

Trend also extends the same kind of balanced coverage to Italian cities which do not figure on the itineraries of most tour groups. Off-the beaten-path, Arezzo, Verona, Mantua and Cremona have artistic treasures to share, which are all the more memorable for being seldom seen.

By carefully juxtaposing images of Italy's great art works with evocative photos of their places of origin, Trend enables us to grasp an important fact. These masterpieces were painted or sculpted, for the most part, in small city states. Communes, as they were called, were the epicenters of Italian creativity. 

Rome, seat of the Catholic Church, possessed abundant wealth for commissioning works of art and building imposing churches. Venice, technically a republic, was able to devote considerable revenue from its maritime trade to do the same. But most of the vast array of art so brilliantly surveyed in this impressive volume originated in the city-states of a country which was not politically unified until the Risorgimento,1848-1871.

    A street in Arezzo, photo by Bjorn Agerbeek; Piero della Francesca's Mary Magdalene (detail), fresco painting for the cathedral of

 Santi Pietro e Donato in Arezzo, c. 1460

Italy, during the Renaissance and Baroque centuries, was a divided, tumultuous realm. But in the terms of its art, it was a case of "small is beautiful." 

In such an atmosphere, highly-motivated individuals, risk-takers ambitious for success, can find plenty of scope for their talents. In our third recommended book, that is exactly the cast of characters whom we encounter.

Detail from a printed edition of Aristotle, 1483, purchased in 1919

 at the sale of the Yates Thompson collection for the Morgan Library 

In The Manuscripts Club, just published in paperback, Christopher de Hamel returns to the rarefied world of medieval manuscripts which he brilliantly, illuminated in his Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts. Where that acclaimed work dealt with the provenance of some of the most precious, hand-copied books ever created, The Manuscripts Club focuses on people behind the literary scene, individuals who usually remain hidden from public scrutiny. 

Ed Voves (Photo 2023)  

The Lindau Gospels, c. 880, manuscript from St. Gall, Switzerland

The Manuscripts Club presents the life-stories of patrons, artists, collectors, museum officials, "wheelers-and-dealers" in the book trade and one charismatic, savvy librarian. 

De Hamel begins with a bona fide saint, Anselm (1033-1109) who as a youth "was already wearing himself out in studying manuscripts that he decided to become a monk." Anselm went on to become one of the great scholars of his age, rising to the rank of Archbishop of Canterbury. This promotion embroiled him in bitter church vs. state politics with the Norman kings of England. No wonder, Anselm so loved the company of books!

From the not-so Dark Ages to the twentieth century, de Hamel narrates the lives of these "bookmen" with an intimacy and insight that almost seems like he knew them personally, which in a way he does. 

Illuminated page from the Beatus Manuscript of Las Huelgas de Burgos, 1220, purchased by Belle Greene in 1910; Portrait of Belle da Costa Greene,1929, by Mattie Edwards Hewitt

The final member of de Hamel's "club" is a familiar face in Art Eyewitness. I recently reviewed the spectacular exhibition at the Morgan Library devoted to Belle da Costa Green. Beginning as a "bachelor girl" librarian, eventually rising to the directorship of the Morgan Library, Belle Green also managed to "pass for White", thus evading the racial prejudice which would otherwise have barred her from the extraordinary success which she achieved.

The manuscripts which Belle Green acquired for the Morgan Library are notable for their stunning, hand-painted illustrations. Yet, it is words which ultimately matter in books, just as deeds do in human lives. De Hamel notes, in his chapter on the seventeenth century Jewish book preserver, Rabbi David Oppenheim, that the degree of use of a sacred book of Judaica is what counts in Jewish culture.

Alluding to his years of working as the medieval manuscripts expert for Sotheby's, de Hamel writes of the attitude of Jewish book collectors.

Damage was evidence of past study, shared by others in a long tradition of a manuscript's usefulness. A flawless and untouched Hebrew manuscript, admired by mainstream collectors in my world, would be deemed unloved, unused and somehow less desirable... The purpose of a Jewish manuscript was to be used."

Here, then, are three recommended books to help you navigate the uncertain times in which we live. These three will, I trust, help shield you from the Hokusai-like "great wave" of information and misinformation which daily inundates us all. Hopefully, they will inspire us to chart our own course of exploration, as we share the message of art.

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Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                   Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd and Ed Voves

Book cover illustrations are by courtesy of Yale University Press, Thames & Hudson and Penguin/Random House. The map of Renaissance art sites in Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists is © of Cassandre Montoriol and courtesy of Thames & Hudson.

Introductory Image (and below) :                                                                    

Edouard Vuillard (French, 1868–1940) Théodore Duret, 1912. Oil on cardboard on wood: 95.2 x 74.8 cm (37 1/2 x 29 7/16 in.) Chester Dale collection, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Paul Cézanne's Mont Sante-Victoire on view in the Paris to Provence exhibition at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Edouard Manet (French, 1868–1883) Théodore Duret, 1868. Oil on canvas: 46.5 x 35.5.cm. Collection of Petit Palais, Museum of the Fine Arts of the City of Paris 

Michelangelo (Italian, Florence, 1472–1564) Studies for the figure of Adam for

The Creation of Man, Sistine Chapel c. 1511. Red chalk over stylus underdrawing. © British Museum; Christ on the Cross with the Virgin and St. John, c. 1560-64. Black chalk and white heightening | 38.2 x 21.0 cm (sheet of paper). © Royal Collection Trust, UK

Paul Cézanne (French, 1839-1906) Still Life with Carafe, Bottle and Fruit, 1906. Watecolor and graphite on pale buff paper, 48 x 62.5 cm. © Henry and Rose Pearlman collection, New York.

John Constable (English, 1776-1837) Elm Trees in Old Hall Park, East Bergholt, 1817. Graphite, with slight grey and white washes, 59.1 x 49.5 cm. Victoria and Albert Museum, London.

Piazza dei Signori, Verona. Photo by Bjorn Agerbeek. Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists, courtesy of Thames & Hudson

Cassandre Montoriol (Map, 2025) Illustrated map showing museums, churches and historic sites in Florence, Urbino and Rome, relating to Michelangelo and Raphael. Courtesy of Thames and Hudson.

Giotto  Detail of Ognissanti Madonna altarpiece, c. 1300. Ufizzi Gallery, Florence. Image is modified: from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Giotto,_1267_Around-1337_-_Maest%C3%A0_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg

Fontana Maggiore, Perugia, photo by Frank Krautschick.  Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists is © of Cassandre Montoriol and courtesy of Thames & Hudson               

Prato della Valle and Basilica di Santa Giustina, Padua, photo by Andrea. Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists is © of Cassandre Montoriol and courtesy of Thames & Hudson

Street in Arezzo. Photo by Bjorn Agerbeek. Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists, courtesy of Thames & Hudson 

Piero della Francesca's Mary Magdalene (detail), fresco painting for the cathedralSanti Pietro e Donato in Arezzo, c. 1460. https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Magdalena_(Piero_della_Francesca)

Detail from a printed edition of Aristotle, 1483. Illustrated by Girolamo da Cremona. Courtesy of the Morgan Library and Museum

Ed Voves Photo (2023) The Lindau Gospels, c. 880. Manuscript from the Monastery of St. Gall, Switzerland. Collection of the Morgan Library and Museum.

Illuminated page from the Beatus Manuscript of Las Huelgas de Burgos, 1220, purchased by Belle Greene in 1910 for J.P. Morgan

Ed Voves, Photo (2024) Photograph of Belle da Costa Greene, 1929, by Mattie Edwards Hewitt (for Bain News Service), c. 1929, Photographic print: 7 x 5 in.(17.8 x 12.8 cm., Bain Collection, Library of Congress.