In this catalogue for the exhibition, Walter Liedtke, Curator of Paintings at the Metropolitan, drawing on the Museum's five Vermeers, scenes by other Dutch masters in the Museum's collection, including Pieter de Hooch, Gabriel Metsu, Nicolaes Maes, and Emanuel de Witte, and several works on paper, places the picture in the context of the artist's brief career and relates it to contemporary developments in Dutch art. In addition to an extended discussion of the painting's provenance, he provides a detailed study of the composition, the several revisions made during the course of execution, and the subtle relationships between light and shadow, color, contour, and shape. And he proposes a most intriguing argument for an erotic subtext, pointing out that, like maids and kitchen maids in earlier Netherlandish art, the figure in The Milkmaid was meant to attract the male viewer, to rouse in him temptation and restraint, desire and reservation, while the kitchen maid herself, endowed with traits typically reserved for higher-class women and surrounded by references to romance both literal and oblique, is presented as having amorous thoughts of her own.

A visually stunning and seductive book that celebrates the mysterious and enigmatic world created by Vermeer in some of the best-loved and most characteristic works from late in his career.

Art historians have long speculated on how Vermeer achieved the uncanny mixture of detached precision, compositional repose, and perspective accuracy that have drawn many to describe his work as "photographic." Indeed, many wonder if Vermeer employed a camera obscura, a primitive form of camera, to enhance his realistic effects? In Vermeer's Camera, Philip Steadman traces the development of the camera obscura--first described by Leonaro da Vinci--weighs the arguments that scholars have made for and against Vermeer's use of the camera, and offers a fascinating examination of the paintings themselves and what they alone can tell us of Vermeer's technique. Vermeer left no record of his method and indeed we know almost nothing of the man nor of how he worked. But by a close and illuminating study of the paintings Steadman concludes that Vermeer did use the camera obscura and shows how the inherent defects in this primitive device enabled Vermeer to achieve some remarkable effects--the slight blurring of image, the absence of sharp lines, the peculiar illusion not of closeness but of distance in the domestic scenes. Steadman argues that the use of the camera also explains some previously unexplainable qualities of Vermeer's art, such as the absence of conventional drawing, the pattern of underpainting in areas of pure tone, the pervasive feeling of reticence that suffuses his canvases, and the almost magical sense that Vermeer is painting not objects but light itself. Drawing on a wealth of Vermeer research and displaying an extraordinary sensitivity to the subtleties of the work itself, Philip Steadman offers in Vermeer's Camera a fresh perspective on some of the most enchanting paintings ever created.

Johannes Vermeer is estimated to have painted (though estimates differ widely) The Milkmaid (De Melkmeid or Het Melkmeisje in Dutch) - or The Kitchen Maid, given the painting's subject would have been a domestic kitchen maid or maid-of-all-work - circa 1658. The work is on display in the Rijksmuseum (National Museum) in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. Features of this journal are: 6x9in, 110 pages lined (standard, B&W) on both sides front title and owner's contact details page cover soft, matte This elegantly simple journal - which will make wonderful Johannes Vermeer gifts for women and men and children - presents a uniquely beautiful work of art from one of the master painters of the Dutch Golden Age or Dutch renaissance, a distinctive Johannes Vermeer notebook and Baroque art print journal that aims to inspire in its owner greater and more imaginative writing. To browse the wide selection of journals from Golding Notebooks, please refer to our Amazon author page.

A wildly entertaining and surprisingly educational dive into art history as you've never seen it before, from the host of the beloved ArtCurious podcast We're all familiar with the works of Claude Monet, thanks in no small part to the ubiquitous reproductions of his water lilies on umbrellas, handbags, scarves, and dorm-room posters. But did you also know that Monet and his cohort were trailblazing rebels whose works were originally deemed unbelievably ugly and vulgar? And while you probably know the tale of Vincent van Gogh's suicide, you may not be aware that there's pretty compelling evidence that the artist didn't die by his own hand but was accidentally killed--or even murdered. Or how about the fact that one of Andy Warhol's most enduring legacies involves Caroline Kennedy's moldy birthday cake and a collection of toenail clippings? ArtCurious is a colorful look at the world of art history, revealing some of the strangest, funniest, and most fascinating stories behind the world's great artists and masterpieces. Through these and other incredible, weird, and wonderful tales, ArtCurious presents an engaging look at why art history is, and continues to be, a riveting and relevant world to explore.

"This volume--the new standard Vermeer monograph--reproduces all 34 paintings, augmenting each with close-ups that lay bare the loving care Vermeer lavished upon each painstaking work." from publisher's website

Ut pictura amor: The Reflexive Imagery of Love in Artistic Theory and Practice, 1500-1700 examines the related themes of lovemaking and image-making in the visual arts of Europe, China, Japan, and Persia. The term ‘reflexive’ is here used to refer to images that invite reflection not only on their form, function, and meaning, but also on their genesis and mode of production. Early modern artists often fashioned reflexive images and effigies of this kind, that appraise love by exploring the lineaments of the pictorial or sculptural image, and complementarily, appraise the pictorial or sculptural image by exploring the nature of love. Hence the book’s epigraph—ut pictura amor—‘as is a picture, so is love’.