Composition Analysis of "Saint Praxedis" (Vermeer)
This week I did one of my routine visits to the permanent exhibition at the National Museum of Western Art in Ueno. I try to go at least every few months to keep up with any changes to the main gallery. This time around they had moved things quite a bit, unfortunately keeping one of my favorites in storage, Joaquín Sorolla's The Drinking Jug, but rightly bringing out a Vermeer and Tiepolo I hadn't seen before.
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| <-- Family of Darius Saint Praxedis --> |
Before I share my analysis, this is just an anecdote, but... Sometimes I get funny reactions while drawing at museums.
Maybe its because I was too tired that day to conceal I was drawing, or maybe it was just the character of the tour groups, moving through the gallery at break-neck speed. At one point I held up my pencil in an admittedly stereotypical 'artist taking a measurement' pose, and someone snapped like 3 photos of me. Shutter sound and all! I had to suppress my laughter! What's the deal with that?! We're standing in front of classics from the masters, man, and you're more interested in photographing me?! Poor Vermeer!!!
I couldn't help but think of it as the difference between seeing an animal in the wild versus seeing one in a cage.
Anyway, onto my Saint Praxedis.
Saint Praxedis, a replica done by Johannes Vermeer. The original composer was Felice Ficherelli.
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| Circles are on focal points contributing to compositional lines |
My first impression of Saint Praxedis was that it's a very balanced and symmetrical composition-- safe, standard. The story itself is very calm and silent too. I actually thought it was a big boring. However, despite my initial bias, it caught my attention. I kept glancing back at it and couldn't move on in the gallery. Somehow, there was a dynamic energy that made it fun to look at, but I had no idea where it was coming from, given that first impression. I decided it would be a good painting to study in detail and brought out my sketchbook.
Sometimes a painting is exemplary because the artist is doing something new. But sometimes a painting can be also be exemplary just because the artist is doing standard things really, really well. I'd put this one in the latter category.
To begin, I'd like to talk about the flow.
The main organization of this painting is a symmetrical triangle. That's fine, but it comes with a small-- I won't even call it a problem, a consideration-- that such symmetry is inherently pretty static. Because there isn't much movement coming from the 1 point perspective or the actions taking place, we might expect the whole painting to feel a bit stale.
I think it avoids this because of this loop:
A counter-clockwise flow is created by following her gaze down to the pot, then back up. This is the flow our eye tends to follow through the painting, the rough order in which we process what we are seeing.
We start at the face, as any painting with a face in it. It's composition 101 that the face, and what that face is looking at, is always the most attention-grabbing thing in a painting. It's just what our brains are hardwired to look for.
Then we follow the her line of sight down to the pot.
Note that this line-- her face, the pot, and her her hands wringing the blood inbetween-- are all placed along her line of sight. This is another common trick to build cohesion. It's such a textbook strick for composition this would do well in an introduction to composition 101 class.
When we reach the bottom there isn't much down there other than the pot. Well, except the dead dude to the left, or look at the fabric in the bottom right, but who cares about those.
To return to the top half of the painting, it's more interesting to go a new way than the way we came down. Ficherelli builds a kind of ladder back up into the painting using her left arm.
This sets up a loop.
What really sells this loop is that it's not just coming from a line, it's coming from a shape. The two imaginary lines-- her line of sight and the line of focal points up the arm-- intersect at the pot and create a dynamic triangular wedge.
There's no shape more directional than a triangle!
Next, some more about symmetry.
This painting's main idea is that its symmetric. Symmetry as a design motif is very striking, so if you don't commit to it (or at least respect its power) you will find your painting taken over by it. Commit too hard, and the painting is predictable and boring. Deviate from convention too much and it will just turn into a complete mess. Symmetry is actually a pretty tricky motif to use, IMO.
How far can we really push that movement in the loop?
Well, there is a solution! Many solutions, but he uses one of the most basic-- a steelyard! To the left, the pot. To the right, its mirror counterpart balancing it out-- some bunched up fabric!
In composition, we call this a steelyard, when the heavier side is balanced by a far smaller weight.
You can think of the minor imbalance of pot on left and bunched fabric on right as like a miniature steelyard composition, which favors one side asymmetrically. So, we get movement coming from both the triangle pointing to the bottom left, and then our eye favoring the left overall because there is more conceptual interest on that side.
Onto my next point.
This is maybe a bit esoteric, because unlike the previous examples which I think are very commonly taught and understood, this is something I only learned by studying paintings closely. I don't know how much other people think of this but I think of it all the time.
The very first impression you form of a painting has a lot to do from where you eye enters the canvas. That is to say, very literally, your gaze has to pass over the boundary of the edge of the canvas and head toward whatever is drawing you in.
Check out this crop of a painting by Vermeer.
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| shitty screenshot and crop of a Vermeer painting |
Here, I think our brains will consider the left as the 'entrance' to the painting.
Again, I don't know if this has a name from composition theory or whatever, but I think this relationship between the psychological entrance and focal point are very important. It is a big factor in the way we 'feel' about what we are seeing.
If the painting is 'blocked' on all sides, it's going to feed not only cramped, but difficult to 'get inside.' Inversely, an unobstructed entry, particularly a wide open foreground, feels open, honest and candid.
Vermeer in particular was well known for creating interesting compositions based around this effect, nestling away his figures deep into the background (sometimes, even for what was supposed to be a portrait).
(The eye most naturally wants to enter from the bottom of the canvas if possible, and there are a bunch of other things I could say here- but I'll ramble on forever so I'll stop myself...)
Let's think of this in the case of Saint Praxedis.
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| this is the original pulled from Wikipedia btw. interestingly, the original relies more on the light shape on the fabric than the triangle for counterbalancing the symmetry motif than Vermeer's version. I think both versions are good, but Vermeer's decision to focus on the fabric triangle over the light shape is a minor change that shows he really understood the steelyard idea. And gets more style points IMO |
Open foreground-- everything lets us go straight toward the center with nothing in the way.
To me, this feels serene, honest, and because of the symmetry, almost angelic.
Returning to the theme of basic-but-good, this is another textbook application! Pairing symmetry and open foreground is almost a set deal. Next time you are in a museum, look for this combo particularly in religious or deified artworks. You see this combo in religious art, logos, and other extraordinary subject matter.
Finally, my own biggest takeaway!
I just really, really like the the bunching of fabric in the bottom right, the one balancing our the steelyard.
Restraint is hard. Many artists, myself included, would have felt the temptation to add another prop to this scene. I probably would have put at least a different color fabric! I would be scared I'm giving up an opportunity to add more. After all, isn't more better? The shotgun strategy, so to speak.
If I could go back in time, I'd ask Ficherelli how much pressure he felt to put an object in the foreground. He definitely had to at least weigh the option, because it's such a big decision. I'd also ask Vermeer, because they seem to have disagreed!
I'm sure the ultimate decision came from their knowledge of composition, and knowing how to get the most out of the motifs they were using. But, another part comes from style. Many of today's artists I think would put another prop there out of desperation or just modern convention. To viewers as well, I think many modern viewers will find this painting too plain.
Maybe Vermeer himself got bored during his copy so he changed the shadow shapes? lol
This painting adheres to solid, basic ideas with a level of restraint that borders on austere. Because of that, it's very classical-art coded. And personally, I think saying "yeah I could put something there but I won't" shows so much confidence. I think it's a major flex.
Let's end this with some artist tips and takeaways!!
Relate your fabric shapes to the focal point!
- How often do you have some extra drapery in the bottom third of your painting? Pretty often if you are drawing character illustrations or people, right?! Fabric is a cheap shorthand for focal point. Ficherelli creates a triangle comp anchor just by using fabric. Try out triangles, throw in a steelyard why-don'tcha!
Consider the entrance to the painting, and create a 'loop' for the viewer to get stuck inside.
- Think from where we enter the painting -> where it goes next -> where it goes next -> how it gets back to the beginning. Bonus points if you can nestle 1-2 layers of framing. In this case, it was the major silhouette triangle, and then a secondary focal point triangle.
- Even a very symmetrical composition can feel active through use of secondary organizations. When it comes to guiding eye movement, you can be abstract. Maybe try focal points instead of just a single guiding line.
See you next time.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Praxedis_(painting)
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