On the Medusa of Leonardo Da Vinci in the Florentine Gallery

The Head of Medusa, ca. 1600, Uffzi Gallery, Florence Italy

It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky, 

  Upon the cloudy mountain peak supine;  

Below, far lands are seen tremblingly; 

  Its horror and its beauty are divine. 

Upon its lips and eyelids seems to lie 

  Loveliness like a shadow, from which shrine,  

Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath,  

The agonies of anguish and of death. 

Yet it is less the horror than the grace  

  Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone;

Whereon the lineaments of that dead face  

  Are graven, till the characters be grown  

Into itself, and thought no more can trace; 

  'Tis the melodious hue of beauty thrown  

Athwart the darkness and the glare of pain,

Which humanize and harmonize the strain. 

And from its head as from one body grow, 

  As [   ] grass out of a watery rock, 

Hairs which are vipers, and they curl and flow  

  And their long tangles in each other lock,

And with unending involutions shew  

  Their mailed radiance, as it were to mock  

The torture and the death within, and saw  

The solid air with many a ragged jaw. 

And from a stone beside, a poisonous eft

  Peeps idly into those Gorgonian eyes; 

Whilst in the air a ghastly bat, bereft  

  Of sense, has flitted with a mad surprise  

Out of the cave this hideous light had cleft, 

  And he comes hastening like a moth that hies

After a taper; and the midnight sky  

Flares, a light more dread than obscurity. 

'Tis the tempestuous loveliness of terror;  

  For from the serpents gleams a brazen glare  

Kindled by that inextricable error, 35 

  Which makes a thrilling vapour of the air  

Become a [ ] and ever-shifting mirror  

  Of all the beauty and the terror there— 

A woman's countenance, with serpent locks, 

Gazing in death on heaven from those wet rocks. 

~   by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Shelly tragically drowned in 1822 during a storm long before the 20th Century debate that this painting is in fact attributed to an anonymous Florentine painter and not Leonardo Da Vinci. The Head of Medusa was attributed to Leonardo by his biographer, Luigi Lanzi based primarily on his description of the work given by Vasari in The Lives of the Artists, p. 258-261 there are two separate Medusa painting stories. The painting in the Florentine Gallery is about the the Medusa make of oils and described as being "...kept among the fine works of art in the palace of Duke Cosimo...". The first story was about a "Buckler" (essentially a shield). To read about the Medusa stories online check out the Full Text 'Stories of the Italian Artists From Vasari' starting with story 147. Shelly would have had no way of knowing this was not Leonardo's work, however as always Shelley's work is wonderful.

Two additional Medusa images which I love are below:

Medusa, 1598-99, Oil on Canvas on Mounted Wood, Caravaggio, Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy

Head of Medusa, c. 1617-18, Color on Canvas, Peter Paul Rubens, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria 

Bacchus and an Ode to Wine

Ode To Wine

Bacco (Bacchus), (1596-1597 for commission to the Grand Duke of Tuscany Ferdinand I),  oil on canvas, Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy  

Day-colored wine,

night-colored wine,

wine with purple feet

or wine with topaz blood,

wine,

starry child

of earth,

wine, smooth

as a golden sword,

soft

as lascivious velvet,

wine, spiral-seashelled

and full of wonder,

amorous,

marine;

never has one goblet contained you,

one song, one man,

you are choral, gregarious,

at the least, you must be shared.

At times

you feed on mortal

memories;

your wave carries us

from tomb to tomb,

stonecutter of icy sepulchers,

and we weep

transitory tears;

your

glorious

spring dress

is different,

blood rises through the shoots,

wind incites the day,

nothing is left

of your immutable soul.

Wine

stirs the spring, happiness

bursts through the earth like a plant,

walls crumble,

and rocky cliffs,

chasms close,

as song is born.

A jug of wine, and thou beside me

in the wilderness,

sang the ancient poet.

Let the wine pitcher

add to the kiss of love its own.

The Youth of Bacchus, 1884, oil on canvas, William-Adolphe Bouguereau, Private Collection

 My darling, suddenly

the line of your hip

becomes the brimming curve

of the wine goblet,

your breast is the grape cluster,

your nipples are the grapes,

the gleam of spirits lights your hair,

and your navel is a chaste seal

stamped on the vessel of your belly,

your love an inexhaustible

cascade of wine,

light that illuminates my senses,

the earthly splendor of life.

But you are more than love,

the fiery kiss,

the heat of fire,

more than the wine of life;

you are

the community of man,

translucency,

chorus of discipline,

abundance of flowers.

I like on the table,

when we're speaking,

the light of a bottle

of intelligent wine.

Drink it,

and remember in every

drop of gold,

in every topaz glass,

in every purple ladle,

that autumn labored

to fill the vessel with wine;

and in the ritual of his office,

let the simple man remember

to think of the soil and of his duty,

to propagate the canticle of the wine.

The Nature of Bacchus, 1628,  oil on canvas, Nicholas Poussin, The National Gallery, London

~ Pablo Neruda

Judith Beheading Holofernes by Caravaggio

Judith Beheading Holofernes, Caravaggio, Oil on Canvas, 1598/99, National Gallery of Ancient Art of Barberini Palace, Rome, Italy

In honor of women in America having Congress finally pass our rights to vote on this day in 1920 thereby 'validating' what we already knew - we are powerful, smart, ingenious, fiercely loyal, fight for our cause, and protect our own I am putting up Judith.  Judith has an entire book in the bible devoted to her as she empowered the whole of Israel to defeat their enemy who even with superior numbers had their commander beheaded by the cunning and determination of one determined woman.  In his desire to have Judith, Holofernes underestimates her abilities and literally and figuratively loses his head.

Caravaggio paints Holofernes with a red drapery tauntingly over his head much like would be over royalty in an Academic painting echoing the red which soon escapes the neck of Holofernes.  Caravaggio never disappoints in his use of realism and naturalism. The dead eyes of Holofernes while his hands are still at their last grasping moment on the sheets, his agape mouth as if in mid-scream,  his taunt muscles about to succumb to death juxtaposed to the white purity of Judith's sheer blouse revealing her femininity (it actually used to reveal a breast but was covered up some time later by others) eluding to her use of sexual wiles to seduce the commander in a necessary evil for her family and her people.  Judith's facial expressions clearly echo the sentiment of distain, anger, and determination in her act while her maid's natural depiction of age and resolve bring yet another realistic element to this painting.

Caravaggio's interplay of angles and triangles created connections between individuals in the frame, further drama beyond the story and discord to the viewer's eye.  Chiaroscuro may not have been the invention of Caravaggio, but he certainly was in my opinion the master and this painting in print and in person confirms that fact.  If you have not seen Caravaggio's work in person it is a must because the subtleties, the nuances, the intricacies will astound even the mildest of art connoisseur....

How important it is for us to recognize and celebrate our heroes and she-roes!  ~Maya Angelou