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jaded-arts · 8 years

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Pronunciation

Consonants:

Consonants in Welsh can only make one unique sound, as opposed to English which can make several sounds per consonant. For example, the c can make a k sound as in cat or a s sound as in city. When you learn the sound a consonant makes in Welsh, it will only ever make that sound you learn.

Consonant sounds same in English and Welsh:

These consonants look the same in English and Welsh, and sound the same.

· b /b/ Like b in boy. Welsh example: bachgen (English: boy)

· c /k/ Like c in cat. Welsh example: cath (English cat)

· d /d/ Like d in dog. Welsh example: drwg (English bad)

· g /g/ Like g in gun. Welsh example: gardd (English garden)

· h /h/ Like h in happy. Welsh example: hen (English old)

· l /l/ Like l in lake. Welsh example: calon (English heart)

· m /m/ Like m in mad. Welsh example: mam (English mother)

· n /n/ Like n in none. Welsh example: nain (English grandmother)

· ng /ŋ/ Like the end of the English word sing. In Welsh, this letter can come at the front of a word. In Welsh, it is never pronounced with a hard g, as in the English finger. Welsh example: angau (English death)

· p /p/ Like p in poker. Welsh example: pen (English head)

· s /s/ Like s in sad. Welsh example: sebon (English soap)

· t /t/ Like t in tar. Welsh example: tŷ (English house)

· th /θ/ Like th in think. Welsh example: methu (English fail)

· si is pronounced as in English sheep, when it comes before a vowel.

Consonant sounds in English, Different letter in Welsh:

These sounds are found in English, but they are assigned to a different letter in Welsh. Train yourself to read them differently now.

· f /v/ Like v in violin. Welsh example: gafr (English goat)

· ff /f/ Like f in friend. Welsh example: ffrind (English friend)

· dd /ð/ Like th in then. Welsh example: hardd (English beautiful)

Consonant sounds in English, Not in Welsh:

These sounds are in English, but you will not hear them in Welsh.

· The c in Welsh only makes a hard /k/ sound. It will never sound like an s, such as in the English city.

· The g only makes a /g/ sound. It will never sound like an English g, like in the English gender.

· The th in Welsh represents the th in English think. The dd represents the other th in English, like the word then.

· There is no z sound in Welsh.

Consonant sounds only in Welsh:

These consonant sounds may be new to you.

· ch /x/ Like the Scottish loch or German composer Bach. Welsh example: chwech (English six)

· ll /ɬ/ The ll is a hard Welsh sound to make. It is best described as putting your tongue in the position of l and then blowing out air gently. Like saying a h and l simultaneously, but with more puff. Welsh example: llyn (English lake)

· r /r/ The Welsh r should always be trilled. Welsh example: ar (English on)

· rh /r̥/ The Welsh rh should be trilled with aspiration. Like saying a h and r simultaneously, but with more puff. Welsh example: rhan (English part)

Vowels:

There are seven vowels in Welsh. Most vowels can be two different sounds. The y can take three different sounds.

· a

· e

· i

· o

· u

· w

· y

Short Vowels:

· a /a/ Like a in pat.

· e /ɛ/ Like e in pet.

· i /ɪ/ Like i in pit.

· o /ɔ/ Like o in pot

· u /ɪ/ Like i in pit.

· w /ʊ/ As in book.

· y /ə/ Like uh in above

The rules governing the letter Y are some of the most confusing in Welsh. Normally it’s pronounced like the u in cut, but in the last syllable of a word it represents the sound like the i in bit. Note; This includes words with only one syllable, such as llyn (hlin).

Similar rules apply for combinations of y with another letter;

· yr is (approximately) pronounced like English burn, except in the last syllable of a word, where it is said like in English beer. (Both times, the r is audible, not dropped. See the preceding rule.)

· yw is pronounced like English moan, except in the last syllable of a word, where it is said like the Welsh iw and uw (see below).

That just leaves the exceptions. The small words, y, yr and yn are pronounced uh, urr and un.

Dipthongs:

· ae, ai and au /aɪ/- like English sky. (Actually, there is an exception for the last one. “au” is the plural ending for certain words, e.g. creigiau. In these cases, its pronunciation is shortened to a “hanging A”

· aw /aʊ/ - like English cow.

· oe (and oi and ou, which are rare) /ɔɪ/ - like English boy.

· ei and eu and ey /əɪ/ - like nothing in English; try ‘uh-ee’ and then running the vowels together.

When you see a vowel followed by an R, or a diphthong followed by an R, both the vowel and the R are pronounced; this differs from many dialects of English. The following sounds are therefore approximate, and you should make sure to pronounce the R.

· aer, air and aur - like English fire.

· awr - like English hour.

· er - like English bare, but shorter.

· ir or ur (or yr in the last syllable of a word) - like English beer.

· wr - like English poor.

Long Vowels:

· a /ɑː/ Like a in father.

· e /ɛː/ Like ae in aeroplane, but without any trace of an r, or a y sound between the a and the e.

· i /iː/ Like i in machine.

· o /ɔː/ Like aw in hawk.

· w /uː/ Like oo in pool.

· u and y take the same values as i does.

· A vowel is short if it comes in a word with more than one syllable.

So all these rules only come into play when we’re talking about one-syllable words.

· A vowel is short if it’s followed by two consonants, if the first of the two is n or r.

· A vowel is short if it’s in a word of one syllable and the consonant following it is any of the following; p, t, c, m, ng

· If the vowel is a, e, o, w or y and it’s followed by l, n or r then it is also short.

· This leaves the following options for when the vowel is long; in a word of one syllable; followed by two consonants the first of which is ll or s; either followed by no consonants, or followed by b, ch, d, dd, f, ff, g, s or th, or (if it happens to be i or u) followed by l, n or r.

A circumflex accent (the hat sign) is placed over a vowel to indicate that it’s long when you might otherwise think it was short.

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jaded-arts · 8 years

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Something as old as forever

The cemetery gate (The churchyard) (1825), Caspar David Friedrich / Note To Self, J. Cole

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jaded-arts · 9 years

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So you think you want to work in a museum...

A couple of months ago, I asked you guys to help me crowd-source a museum-career-advice column. Several times a week, I get emails from people who want to work in a museum asking me how to get their foot in the door, or how to succeed in a museum career, so I thought a crowd-sourced advice column would be helpful, so now when I get asked the question I can just point to this link. And then you all gave some really great responses, and I read them all, and then I wrote the start of this piece and then abandoned it for two months because, well, I should not be dispensing advice about anything at all. Not even directions to the nearest Starbucks. It’s not because I hate my job, or because I struggle in this field. It’s because, upon reading all the responses when I asked for reader contributions to this topic, I saw a lot of consistency in how people got into the field and I share almost none of that experience. I took a really non-traditional path and may not be the best person to disseminate advice on how to get started. I have a BFA, MFA and I’m ABD, but none of my degrees are museum-specific. What I can stand in for is an example of how diverse but related fields of expertise can qualify you for a museum career. The rest is drawn from reader responses.

Also, this is probably geared toward US museums. I don’t know enough about international museum operations to say how much of this is cromulent to them. If you’re at a museum outside of the US and want to comment on that, please do, or send me an email.

A museum career is simultaneously one of the most rewarding and frustrating endeavors you’ll ever undertake. There’s a lot of competition for a limited pool of jobs, the compensation tends to be “not great,” the hours can be killer and you’re going to end up working when you’d rather be with your friends or family. I first wanted to work in a museum when my parents bought me this VHS tape when I was 7, and I watched it over and over and over until the tape “took a nap.” My whole life plan was SET. I was going to work in a MUSEUM.

Fast forward 15 years, and I come to realize, it’s nothing like Sesame St. said it would be . Or Indiana Jones. Or The Mummy. Or The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.

Truth is, it’s really hard work, and almost completely unglamorous. But damn, guys, when you see that light turn on in someone’s eyes when they really connect with an artwork, or come to a moment of clarity with history or the universe, there’s just nothing like it. Worth the blood, sweat and tears. (By the way, you will be bleeding, sweating and crying more than your position description lets on. True fact.)

I have been working in museums for about 10 years, but do not have a Museum Studies degree. I started with a BFA double major of studio art and art history, picked up a teaching certificate, followed by an MFA in Cinema Studies, followed by an (incomplete) Art History PhD program, with the goal of a being a contemporary art curator (obviously). I also took summer classes every year to accelerate my graduation date and did this all in 6 years, no breaks, while also working part time as a special education teacher. Putting myself through that pacing was the biggest mistake of my life, for two reasons.

I burned out. Badly. Terribly. To the brink of an emotional breakdown and the nuclear destruction of a long-term relationship. To run through higher education at an accelerated pace from undergrad to PhD is incredibly hard, astoundingly expensive, and rife with uncertainty, it’s definitely not for everyone, and it came with financial and emotional costs. If you listen to nothing else I say, listen to this: think long and hard about if and how you can handle that. It’s no joke.

I was doing what I was told I needed to do academically to get the job I wanted (curator), but had no actual experience doing that job to know if I’d be happy in the field. In hindsight, I needed to take more time between my MFA and PhD to focus on family and relationships, intern more, get some work experience under my belt, and figure out if I was one the right path. (I wasn’t.)

In the end, I took a sabbatical to get my head right and get some work experience. That was almost 10 years ago, and I’m still ABD. In between I accidentally landed a dream job in an aspect of museums I didn’t know I wanted, got married, and moved to the suburbs. I doubt I will ever finish that PhD. Do I want to? Kinda, I guess. Do I need to finish that degree so I can land a museum job? Nope.

Why not? Sheer luck, dude.

During my sabbatical, I got an entry-level job at a renowned museum, working in educational programming. As I mentioned, I used to be a special education teacher. My thing was teaching through alternative methods of material introduction (to wit, not teaching from the book). Within a month I knew I wasn’t going back: I wanted to create learning and engagement opportunities with these primary sources I was immersed in every day, not write books or catalogues or lectures about them. I was a teacher, and I loved it, but I was convinced I wanted to be a curator. Turns out I didn’t, because I didn’t realize I could combine my love of education with my knowledge of art in another way. Within a year, I’d been promoted twice and within two years, I had a position at one of the most well-known museums in the world.

How? I was lucky, I was book-smart, and I worked my ass off. But I was also, for the first time, doing what I wanted to do, and I decided that a PhD program wasn’t what I wanted. Your mileage may vary, and going from undergrad to PhD might be the right move for you. It wasn’t for me. Your Mileage is Going to Vary. I can’t emphasize that enough. With that caveat in place, let’s get on to the advice.

I decided to crowdsource this post, since my experience in breaking into the field is somewhat unique. So I asked tumblr and facebook –check out the threads for all the context and full narratives. I’ll condense them as best I can here in the rest of these points.

Tumblr thread

Facebook Thread

1. Decide if this is the life for you.

As I mentioned above, you’re not gonna get rich in a museum. You can make a decent and comfortable life, but there are Ramen Years. As with any field, if you’re paying your own way, you have to make a decision about how much student loan debt you can live with. Think about that long and hard, then go get as many grants and scholarships as you can if you decide to push ahead in education.

You will need a Bachelor’s degree, and most likely a Master’s degree. A PhD will make you more competitive in some areas (curatorial work, of course) but be wasted in others (you’re not going to need a PhD if you’re interested in exhibit design). Be ready to give up 1 (or all) of your weekends every month. Museum careers are rarely a flat 9-5 position. There’s late nights and weekends, and many holidays, too. You’re going to miss some time with your family and friends during those holidays and weekends and evenings. Not all, but some. Can you deal with that? I’ve seen a lot of people leave this field because it took too much time away from their personal lives, so this needs to be something you can handle.

2. Volunteer and Intern, and do it in different places. Then do it again.

Volunteering and interning are invaluable ways to network, experience different behind-the-scenes job functions, and evaluate the type of museum you enjoy working at.

The museum I work at loves to hire interns - if you’ve interned with us, you’ve already been trained on how we do things. I hesitate to call them auditions, but it’s close. But that’s a 2 way street. You’re interviewing your future here. Look at these environments critically, and carefully. If you’re unhappy, uninspired, unchallenged in an internship, put that experience in your lessons-learned bucket and try another museum. Try an art museum. Try a historic house. Try a science museum. Note what they do the same and how they differ, not just in terms of collections and exhibitions but in how they reach out to visitors, and what their mission statements are.

If internships are not available, volunteer. Museums of all kinds, in all places, pretty much always need volunteers. Much like an internship, you can try out different aspects of the field before choosing one to focus on. Even if a position does not open up at the museum you’re volunteering/interning with, you can make connections within the industry who will refer you to job opportunities, and write you letters of recommendation. A reference from a friend at another museum goes a long way with me - I pay attention to those as much as I do to your resume. Build up that contact list and stay in touch with the people you meet along the way. Interning and volunteering will not guarantee you a job, but it will help position you to be qualified for the field, and make the connections you’ll need to find a job.

3. Be flexible about location and the type of museum you work at.

Maybe your first job will be at MoMA or the Smithsonian. If so, congrats! I got lucky and was able to get an entry-level job at a well-known place and work my way up. But more likely than not, you’re going to start in a museum that you never heard of. The competition for the Big Name Museums is fierce, and jobs there do not grow on trees. A small museum that you’ve never heard of can still have a rich and vibrant collection, and be an important part of the community. Don’t overlook them. That said, taking a job at that museum may require you to move to Bumbelch, Nebrahoma to be registrar at the Museum of Dolls that Haunt Your Childhood Nightmares. Or the Clock Museum, or the Shoe Museum or something equally eclectic. Be ready to be open to that possibility, and the possibility that you may move repeatedly and frequently. Often museum jobs are temporary/term, lasting 6 months to 3 years. You may pack up and move multiple times before finding a long-term match. You may find yourself working in a city where you know no one in a state where you’ve never been. For some, that’s an appealing adventure. Others might not be OK with it. It can be a bit of a nomadic life, so decide if that suites you.

4. Cross-train

There are some amazing Museum Studies programs out there, and due to their connections within the field and the internship opportunities you have access to, some of them have a reputation as basically feeding into museum jobs at renowned museums. But don’t stop there. Take business classes. Take marketing classes. Take all kinds of science and history classes. The first job title people think of when you say “museum career” curator. It’s always curator. There are dozens of other jobs to be done in a museum, though, and every kind of museum needs a different combination of skills. Look into Arts Administration programs. Learn web design, Photoshop, and programming languages. Take chemistry, if you’re interested in conservation. Audit classes if you need to, take them online, or through your community center or junior college. You don’t neccessarily need to get a certificate from Harvard - you just need to develop a skillset, and there are lots of ways to do that. The future of the museums lies in digital engagement, and every museum is going to need someone on board who understands what that means.

5. Don’t be smug

This is an important one, and something that was often repeated in the submissions people sent in.

Get your job done. Get your hands dirty, chip in, and do what you can to make life easier for your colleagues. Don’t look at any task as “beneath you.” I don’t care how many PhDs you have or peer-reviewed journals you’ve contributed to: knit your bit and help out where you can. Labels need updating? Write them. Mats need cutting? Grab an exacto. See a gallery educator with a group that’s gone Lord of the Flies and the chaperones have vanished? Go track them down and help round-up the anklebiters. All work is honest work, many hands make light work, etc. etc. Some museums have large staffs with multiple departments, working like gears in a clock to keep things going. Other museums have 3 people, with 9-12 jobs each. No matter what kind you work in, carry your own weight and help others when you can. Just like you should be doing in your personal life. However, don’t over extend yourself. See the next item…

6. Have other interests, and remember your family and friends.

You will make some of the best friends of your life while working at a museum. It’s natural; some days I see my coworkers for 12, 14, 16+ hours a day and see my husband for maybe 2. Or less. The people I’ve met at the museums where I’ve worked will be in my heart the rest of my life. I love my colleagues- this silly blog was born out of a tipsy night of inside jokes (which apparently you all get despite the inside-ness).

That said, do not let a museum become your Whole Life. This place is going to take up your nights, weekends and holidays more often than you might realize. That’s part of this game. You are going to feel a parental obligation towards your museum and your projects. You will lose sleep worrying about it. But you still need to check it at the door, and make time for your family, friends and personal interests. Read books that have nothing to do with work. Go to concerts that would never happen in your museum. Get out of there every once in a while. Take your vacation days and don’t check your email, and stay home when you’re sick. You will burn out if you turn your life over to a museum. The museum will not burn down while you’re gone, no matter what your imagination tells you.

I see this happening most often with people early in their careers, too afraid to look away from the job long enough to enjoy their own lives. And those are the people who burn out and change careers after two or three years. It’s not a long-haul way to operate. You cannot live and breathe a museum. You can only live and breath your life.

Lastly:

You can. You really really can. It’s hard work, it’s lean sometimes, but keep your head on straight and push through doubts and anxiety. It’s worth it, I promise.

So that’s what I got for you. Please feel free to continue the conversation in the comments, and add your advice for the next generation of museum professionals here.

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jaded-arts · 9 years

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Shia LaBeouf’s #AllMyMovies is curiously engaging...but is it art?

As I write this, Shia LaBeouf - an actor/celebrity who we are all simultaneously familiar with and confused about - is being live-streamed online as he watches all of his films back-to-back in reverse order alongside willing members of the public in a New York theatre, in a project titled #ALLMYMOVIES.

At first thought, #ALLMYMOVIES hilarious - when LaBeouf has that grimacing face, we think, he ust be watching Transformers billionth prequel. Oh how we can laugh at him! Some of those movies were garbage, we cackle, and perhaps now he will realise when his career took a turn! Ha! Maybe he will realise how odd he has been recently, oh ha ha!

My, aren’t we all better than him, we think.

But wait.

Re-calibrate and listen.

This, folks, is art.

When I - speaking as a student of art theory - raised that point to someone close to me, they asked, “but...why?”

At first, I struggled to answer, but it cannot be denied that this happening raises many questions. What is LaBeouf trying to really say? Why is it so hypnotic, so engaging, despite its stillness and seeming boring viewing subject? Here, I offer a few ideas as to why, exactly, #ALLMYMOVIES is art.

1. IT IS A COMMENT ON CONTEMPORARY SCREEN CULTURE

Today, we spend our days staring at screens. From when you turn on your phone in the morning, look at the dash in your car, or the departure board at the train station, the computer in the office, or the television as you wind down on the lounge to watch the nightly news - screens are all-pervasive.

This nightmarish dominance of screens in our everyday lives is really driven home as you watching someone sit in front of such a screen for even a small snippet of what we know is three full days, 24 hours a day. Behind my glasses prescribed specifically because of immense screen usage, I can almost feel all the moisture being sapped from LaBeouf’s sad, puppy-dog eyes. Is he doing this willingly, or has it now - by hour 20 (I think?) - become a form of self-imposed torture?

Yes Shia, get out of there! Even if only for a moment, to rest your precious eyes!

2. IT IS A COMMENT ON CELEBRITY

LaBeouf has informed us before that he is no longer famous.

Why then, Shia, would the world be interested enough to watch your progress online for three days? Why would strangers (like the spectacle-clad youngster and his stubbly-chinned friend near your empty chair above) come and sit in the cinema with you? If not even ‘why?’, how did they hear about it? Why would the mainstream media even bother to point it out?

Because, like screens, celebrity culture is all-pervasive in the Western World. Actors and musicians are valued above activists, above scientists, above artists - the latter role which, I believe, LaBeouf shows himself to be in this performance piece.

Would we care enough to watch any of #ALLMYMOVIES if the live-streaming was focused on the person behind Shia, or next to him? If we couldn’t pretend to know something about LaBeouf’s character or history, would the performance be worth observing?

To the masses who are tuning in to the stream, or talking about it on social media, dare I say this sense of personally knowing a celebrity is a big factor. No, the average person would not care to watch #ALLMYMOVIES if it was someone unknown, or even an actor with a less complex recent past. We think we know LaBeouf, we think we can laugh at him, look down at him when we choose, because he is a celebrity, and he is familiar to us - weird moments and all.

But we do not know him. We can see him smile, yes, or grimace, yes - but we do not know what movie he is watching, or what scene. We do not know where he goes when he vacates his seat. We do not know what the people around him are saying as they ask to shake his hand. We do not know what memory is recalled when he sees past colleagues on the screen, or past situations. We do not know if he looks back fondly, or with disdain.

Despite his celebrity status, we - shockingly, I know - do not know his thoughts.

Tell us your thoughts, Shia! Argh!

3. IT IS A COMMENT ON NARCISSISM

This, to me, seems the most obvious. In a time where it is commonplace for actors to proclaim that they have never seen their own films - as if such a thing would be below them - here is LaBeouf committing to viewing ALL of his many, many films (approximately 35, if my quick IMDB browsing and rough mathematics skills are anything to go by) in one (very public, essentially global) sitting.

What is LaBeouf achieving here? Is he proclaiming his view that he is a great actor, worthy to be watched? Or is he undergoing hardship to do something that perhaps makes him uncomfortable - view a significant proportion of his career-to-date, and relive all the memories that they bring with them? Or, in limiting our view to essentially his face, is he commenting on how screen media dumbs us down, and limits our capacity for action?

For these questions, I have no answer. But I can only imagine how draining, humbling, and emotional such an intense session of recollection and self-reflection must be.

Though these three points seem most clear to me, I can’t help but feel that I have just scratched the surface. Perhaps after another 24 hours the immense iceberg beneath this superficial tip will reveal itself.

But until then...

Sleep well, Mr LaBeouf, and may the Gods of Art dance in your dreams.

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jaded-arts · 9 years

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Alison Moritsugu.

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jaded-arts · 9 years

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Happy birthday Caravaggio!

This year’s collection of images celebrating his birth are some of his self-portraits. The most moving of these, for me, are the ones where he inserts himself into the narrative: as a witness (fleeing) from Matthew’s martyrdom, as the bearer of light in The Taking of Christ, or as the defeated Goliath, whose consciousness hovers between life and death. The detail from the Beheading of Saint John (the last image in this photoset) shows the only signature he placed in his work. Flowing from the pool of blood pouring out of John’s neck, it reads “F. Michelangelo,” representing his new appointment as a fra (brother) of the Knights of Malta.

When I tell people I specialize in Caravaggio, I often hear: “What’s left to be done?“ The question doesn’t have to be verbalized. It is of a gnawing sort, and I think it testifies to a lack of historical imagination. The answer is: so much. As a scholar, I am not interested in yet another rehearsal of the narrative of Caravaggio’s life. Until new primary sources are discovered, we have that wrapped up for now, although Caravaggio’s early life before he moved to Rome remains mysterious. What I am interested in is looking afresh at Caravaggio's oeuvre. There is much that can still be said, wrestled with, interpreted, about his work.

Who was Caravaggio?

Caravaggio was born Michelangelo Merisi in 1571 in Milan. His father, Fermo, was a stonemason for the Marchese of Caravaggio, Francesco Sforza. As a youth, Caravaggio was apprenticed to Simone Peterzano, a native of Bergamo and purported pupil of Titian, whose painting style fused Venetian colore with naturalism and the maniera. Caravaggio was highly influenced by the Lombard artists and artworks he encountered during his youth.

Caravaggio arrived in Rome at the age of 21 in 1592. He found work in the famed Cavalier d'Arpino’s workshop painting flowers and fruits. Caravaggio’s mastery of naturalist still life painting was unparalleled in Rome at this time. He was soon under the patronage of Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte, for whom he painted allegorical scenes celebrating love and music. Del Monte’s circle of friends were impressed with Caravaggio, which led to commissions from Vincenzo Giustiniani and Matthieu Cointerel (for the Contarelli Chapel in San Luigi dei Francesi), among others. The Contarelli Chapel was his first major public commission, and its masterful composition is in part responsible for Caravaggio becoming Rome’s premiere religious painter. Some of his works, like the Death of the Virgin, roused controversy and were never publicly displayed, while second versions of some works, such as the Conversion of Saint Paul, were accepted. Caravaggio was stubborn about his artistic convictions, and in his stubbornness, he changed the way religious art was made, perceived, and experienced.

Art was not all Caravaggio was known for. Extensive police records illuminate Caravaggio’s volatile, often violent, personality. A series of arrests culminated in the 1606 murder of a former friend, Ranuccio Tomassoni. The exact circumstances and motive of Ranuccio’s death are still debated today, with theories ranging from a gang fight to a quarrel over a love triangle to a murder due to a mere 10 scudi bet over a tennis match. What is certain is that neither party was alone and that Ranuccio died (whether or not this was premeditated or intentional) and Caravaggio was wounded.

Caravaggio fled his beloved city, and the Pope swiftly condemned Caravaggio to death for his crime. I have outlined elsewhere what a death sentence in Rome entailed in 1606. Caravaggio had a network of influential patrons and protectors across Italy who hoped for his safe return to Rome but who kept him sheltered during his exile. He spent most of his exile in Naples, Malta, and Sicily, where he was welcomed as a famous artist and where he continued to receive commissions.

In Malta, he was made a Knight by the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta (the Order of Saint John), a move that was sure to propel his pleas for a papal pardon. Caravaggio needed permission from the Pope to become a Knight, as he was not of noble birth and was a fugitive. His only signed work, The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist, made for the Order’s oratory, prominently displays his new title, Fra Michelangelo, flowing from the pool of blood around John’s neck. In 1608, after his new appointment, Caravaggio was imprisoned for a brawl involving other Knights (the motive for which is still mysterious). He escaped from the Order’s prison and the island of Malta in a Hollywood-worthy manner. By December, the Knights stripped him of his title in absentia, casting him out as “a foul and rotten member.”

Caravaggio went to Sicily, where he sojourned with his old friend Mario Minniti, and then returned to Naples. Upon his return, he was viciously attacked by unknown assailants and left for dead. Caravaggio survived, but his face was severely disfigured. In 1610 with the notion that his papal pardon was imminent thanks to the work of his friends and protectors, Caravaggio began his journey by boat back to Rome. He brought at least three paintings with him, perhaps intended as gifts for Cardinal Nephew Scipione Borghese. When his boat docked near Rome, Caravaggio was mistaken by local authorities for someone else and arrested. The facts here get tricky, but the common narrative is this: He spent a couple days in jail until he had the money to post bail, only to see the boat to Rome sailing off into the distance with his possessions. Caravaggio ran after the boat, along the rocky shore, until, after exerting all his energy in retrieving his possessions, he fell sick with fever and died on July 18 at the age of 38.

He was of a fantastic humor, indeed bizarre, Pallid of face, and his hair Thick and curly His eyes lively, yet deeply sunk… [he was] The great protopainter, Marvel of art, Wonder of nature, Though later a victim of misfortune. - Giulio Cesare Gigli (1615), from Helen Langdon's Caravaggio (1999, p. 391).

#caravaggio #my favourite artist

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