The Sistine Chapel was not painted by an artist who was devoted to the Catholic Church. It wasn’t even painted by a painter. Michalengelo, the most renowned Florentine sculptor of the early Renaissance, was invited to Vatican City under the premise that he would be sculpting a megalithic tomb for Pope Julius II. Instead, he was essentially imprisoned in the Papal apartments for four years, forced to fill every square inch of the Sistine Chapel with Biblical frescoes. Michalengo had to stand for hours on end painting with his back arched, craning his neck to paint every detail on the vast ceiling. He even tried to run away from Rome once, only to be forcefully dragged back by the pope…

Sistine Chapel ceiling and altar wall frescoes. Vatican City, Italy. Michelangelo. Ceiling frescoes: c. 1508–1512 C.E.; altar frescoes: c. 1536–1541 C.E. Fresco.

 

I’m staring at the projector, my half done stats homework under my hand, completely distracted by the lecture (or should I say, paying attention to what I should be). As much as I preach about lectures being an overrated teaching method that provides minimal value for the students, I can’t help but get sucked into the stories we learn in Art History every day.

Taking Art History had never been a part of my Four Year Plan (of high school courses, not economic reform to revitalize Germany). It was a spontaneous decision my junior year to fulfill my fine arts requirement, and I had no clue what I was getting myself into: 250 pieces of artwork I had to know by heart (including the time/location it was made, the media, the name, etc.), over 300 handwritten flashcards, and knowledge of the seemingly most trivial things (I can tell you every difference between a Doric, Ionian, and Corinthian Greek column). We had daily lectures and busywork, and it was hard to overlook the fact that it was social studies in disguise as an art course. The class seemed to be everything I despised about high school education.

Yet, if you ask me today what my favorite class has been out of all freshman to senior year courses, it is without a doubt Art History. I don’t have to do any more explanation other than show you some examples of what I’ve learned:

 

‘Ahu ‘ula (feather cape). Hawaiian. Late 18th century C.E. Feathers and fiber.

This is a Hawaiin feather cape, called an ‘ahu’ula. These capes were worn by powerful males in Hawaiin tribes. Reaching down to the wearer’s feet, they were often used as armor in battle due to their believed spiritual powers. The feathers were plucked from tiny birds, which had to be caught by specialists, a few feathers removed at a time before the birds were released back into the wild.

 

Mortuary temple of Hatshepsut. Near Luxor, Egypt. New Kingdom, 18th Dynasty. c. 1473–1458B.C.E. Sandstone, partially carved into a rock cliff, and red granite.

Hatshepsut, a widowed queen with a young pharaoh son, took power in the 15th century BCE and declared herself pharaoh. She led military campaigns, established trade routes, and sponsored enormous building projects. Her tomb, a massive structure built into the cliffside by the Valley of Kings, was defaced and partially destroyed by her own son Thutmose III, who felt threatened by his mother’s power.

 

Arena (Scrovegni) Chapel, including Lamentation. Padua, Italy. Unknown architect; Giotto di Bondone (artist). Chapel: c. 1303 C.E.; Fresco: c. 1305. Brick (architecture) and fresco.

The Scrovengi family were wealthy money-lenders, acquiring their status by collecting interest. Since it was sin in Christianity to collect interest, they used their wealth out of guilt to sponsor the construction and decoration of the Scrovegni Chapel. By hiring artist Giotto, they unintentionally funded the inspiration for Renaissance art of naturalism and compositional awareness.

***

With every story in Art History, it’s like I’m five years old again, reading Magic Tree House books. I am witnessing every day the beautiful, monumental, and/or influential artwork in the context of the society is was produced in. I am simultaneously learning about the broad values of ancient cultures and the symbolism of each small detail. I get to temporarily live in fantasy worlds of large palaces, radical religious movements, and dramatic power struggles. Only, all of these events actually happened.

I have to admit, I can’t help feeling extremely incompetant when I look at some of the extreme talent and genius that went into each creation. The artistry of each of the 250 pieces we study are, for lack of words, insane. Especially when considering the artists from ancient times, it’s shocking to realize that they had restrictive communication systems, no construction power tools, sometimes a limited understanding of mathematics.

My favorite examples of architectural ingeniousness:

Great Mosque (Masjid-e Jameh). Isfahan, Iran. Islamic, Persian: Seljuk, Il-Khanid, Timurid and Safavid Dynasties. c. 700 C.E.; additions and restorations in the 14th, 18th, and 20th centuries C.E. Stone, brick, wood, plaster, and glazed ceramic tile.

Pantheon. Imperial Roman. 118–125 C.E. Concrete with stone facing.

Now, that isn’t to say that I have no issues with the class—the cultural misrepresentation is pretty hard to miss. Our curriculum first semester went something like this: two weeks of Global Prehistory (think cave art), two weeks of Mesopotamia, two weeks of Egypt, two weeks of Greece, two weeks of the Roman Empire, then—get ready—two weeks of China-India-Japan-Indonesia-Korea-Vietnam. Sure, we get to allocate each of the three eras of the Renaissance (300 years total at best) its own unit, but we’re studying prehistoric Chinese burial practices one day and a propaganda piece of Mao the next. 

I will say, though, the Asia unit was one of the most eye-opening two-weeks in terms of finding out about architecture and art I could never have imagined, let alone knew existed. I had never even heard of Borobudur in Indonesia or Angkor Wat in Cambodia—both megalithic structures that are truly architectural feats. You see enough pictures of the Colosseum and the Great Pyramids, but these were ancient marvels on par with these popularized tourist destinations. Who knew that Angkor Wat was the largest religious monument in the world?

Borobudur Temple. Central Java, Indonesia. Sailendra Dynasty. c. 750–842 C.E. Volcanic-stone masonry.

Angkor, the temple of Angkor Wat, and the city of Angkor Thom, Cambodia. Hindu, Angkor Dynasty. c. 800–1400 C.E. Stone masonry, sandstone.

***

Before taking Art History, I was somewhat averse towards artistic appreciation. Our AP Lang trip to the Art Institute last year brought me nothing but confusion, sometimes a scoffing attitude towards the pieces I saw (hard to admit, but sadly true). All I could appreciate back then were the easily likeable landscapes of Impressionist artists like Monet and the proportional and idealized Greek sculptures.

Now though, I see the intentional balance of fengshui hua in traditional Chinese paintings, simultaneously reflecting Buddhist and Daoist sediments. I understand the lack of organic imagery in Islamic art under the belief that only Allah can create life. I know that medieval artists were not unskilled in their flat and stiff styles for Christian art, but they intentionally wished to make it appear otherworldly to the viewer. That isn’t to say I consider myself on par with an art critic now, just that I have a more empathetic and appreciative approach when in the presence of artistic works.

It seems, however, that Art History has still not cured me of my serious doubt towards contemporary art. The minimalism and modern art sections still perplex me to no end—who in the hell considers a singular red plank a piece of art! As we move into the American art unit in class, either my skepticism will be confirmed or my ignorance will be rebuked. Maybe I’ll learn about some 20th century artist who went through hell and back, just as Michalengelo and so many artists did, in order to throw his or her piece out into the world as their form of artistic expression.