The lovingly crafted little tome The Art of Arts might become a cult classic if there are enough Jan van Eyck fans out there--or enough readers who can chew their way through 775 footnotes--to make this work of special genius even an underground bestseller. It is filled with delectable details (for example, that an image of a mill in a landscape connotes a wanton woman, complete with a page of explanations why) and myriad perspicacious observations. In discussing such masterworks as van Eyck's Madonna of Chancellor Rolin, author Anita Albus draws the reader into a vanished world of alternative perspectives, painterly depths of color and atmosphere, and the mesmerizing minutiae of late-medieval and Renaissance symbolism. The last chapter of the book, "Of Lost Colors," combines metallurgy, history, meticulous scholarship, and the author's passionate comprehension of colors in a discussion of antique pigments and their physical properties and pictorial uses.

The book's mostly paragraph-long sentences may put off some readers, and the warm, wry, even sly prose--its liveliness, in other words--may raise the hackles of the dowdy art-historical crowd (not the stylish, open-minded one). But this miniaturist's view of the northern Renaissance will copiously reward those who peruse it slowly, especially artists. Although it is possible to become lost in some chapters, as Albus tiptoes unhurriedly toward some arcane, elusive point, in the end it's hard to resist the sort of book that declares of the late 17th century: "Research into arthropods was in the air." This volume is a work of art, complete in itself, meticulously ordered according to the artist's unique vision, and handsomely "framed" by a sensitive designer. --Peggy Moorman

From Publishers Weekly
Painter and writer Albus (The Botanical Drama) has translated writings by the Goncourt brothers into German, and has illustrated books, including one by Claude L?vi-Strauss. This seems to have been insufficient preparation for tackling the present project, an examination of how the invention of oil painting by Jan van Eyck and his followers changed human perception. Secondary sources, particularly the great Erwin Panofsky, are quoted so heavily as to almost overshadow the project, especially since Albus's own reflections are often banal. We are told, for example, that on seeing van Eyck's Madonna of Chancellor Rolin at the Louvre Museum, "you have to rub your eyes." The prose is often redundant. In one instance, a kind of paint is called "a senile dotard." Some of this may be clumsy translation, which also refers to a "thick-as-a-fist black eye," but observations such as "[j]ust as not all art is art, not all science is science" don't help. Discussions of some painters less well known than van Eyck, such as still-life masters Georg Flegel, Johannes Goedaeart and Otto van Schriek, are somewhat more engaging, and in the last 60 pages, painters' colors are described in some detail and to some point. These pages might have made an interesting short book or pamphlet, instead of a welcome respite from a tedious treatise. (Nov.) Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
Artist and writer Albus presents us with an interesting little enigma of a book. Ostensibly tracing the birth of oil painting, Albus cloaks this story in a complex and often opaque cultural history of the 15th and 16th centuries. Focusing on a few key painters Jan Van Eyck, Rogier van der Weyden, Gerard David, Hans Memlinc, and a few others Albus attempts to clarify how two features of modern painting three-dimensionality and the vivid colors of oil paints transformed the art form. Though the reader is occasionally caught up in her interesting stories (on the art of curing tobacco, for instance), they detract rather than add to the coherence of her thesis. The combination of a specialized focus and diffuse style result in an ultimately unsatisfying book. Recommended only for large collections of aesthetic history. Martin R. Kalfatovic, Smithsonian Inst. Libs., Washington, DC Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Daniel Mendelsohn, New York
"Albus doesn't just show you things; she teaches you how to see for yourself."

Book Description
In this utterly original book, Anita Albus tells the story--in the birth and triumph of oil painting, the creation of perspective, and the very nature of paint itself--of how, when, and why the eye became king of all the senses. Albus's subjects are the inventors of easel painting in oils, the van Eyck brothers and their followers. It was in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in northern Europe that oil painting radically changed the way we perceived the world: the ear, through which we had previously received all knowledge, was replaced in importance by the eye. A painter of distinction herself, Albus re- creates this revolutionary time in all its intricacies, its familiarity, and its strangeness. The Art of Arts is thus both a dazzling cultural history and the story of two explosive inventions: the so-called third dimension of deep space through perspective, and the shockingly vivid colors of a new kind of paint. Albus makes abundantly clear how, taken together, these breakthroughs not only created a new art but altered forever our perception of the world.

From the Back Cover
"I haven't seen such a fascinating work in years. Nobody has ever studied Erwin Panofsky so accurately and sensitively as Anita Albus has here."-- Gerda Panofsky "With Albus's book, we have been given a masterpiece. The author is a versatile genius, and this mighty work is unique in its highly original combination of knowledge of art history and technical experience." --William S. Heckscher, coauthor of Art and Literature: Studies in Relationship "This book enchants me with its revelations. I do not think anyone has ever succeeded so well in making clear that--contrary to popular belief--painting does not consist of taking three-dimensional objects and representing them in a two-dimensional way, but rather in the transformation of three-dimensional objects into another object which also has three dimensions--namely, the picture itself."--Claude LŽvi-Strauss

About the Author
Anita Albus is a writer and artist based in Munich and Burgundy. Her publications include The Botanical Drama, The Garden of Songs, and the translation into German of Flashlights by Jules and Edmond de Goncourt. She has illustrated The Passionate Gardener by Rudolph Borchardt and The Jealous Potter by Claude Lévi-Strauss. Michael Robertson is a freelance translator based in Augsburg, Germany. Previous translations include Ralph Wiggershaus, The Frankfurt School (1994); Anne-Marie Bonnet, Auguste Rodin: Erotic Drawings (1995); Thea Vignau-Wilberg, Music for a While: Music and Dance in 16th-Century Prints (1999).

FROM OUR EDITORS

In The Art of Arts, Anita Albus explores the ways in which distinct and disparate disciplines influence each other -- how a development in the world of science, for example, can alter forever the way art is made and perceived. Albus focuses on Jan van Eyck and other trompe-l'oeil painters of the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries whose work was enlivened by the use of perspective and breakthroughs in the creation of vividly colored oil paint. Claude Lévi-Strauss wrote of The Art of Arts, "This book enchants me with its revelations."

FROM THE PUBLISHER

There was a time, five hundred years ago, when science was regarded as an art, and art as a science. And in the contest between the senses, the ear, through which we had previously received all knowledge and the word of God, was conquered by the eye, which would henceforth be king. A new breed of painters aimed to reconcile the world of the senses with that of the mind, and their goal was to conceal themselves in the details and vanish away, like God. A new way of perceiving was born.

Anita Albus describes the birth and evolution of trompe-l'oeil painting in oils in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, focusing her attention on works by northern European artists—both major and minor. As a scholar, she stands in the tradition of Panofsky; as a painter, she is able to see things others have not yet perceived; as a storyteller, she skillfully describes abstract notions in a vivid and exciting way. Like the multilayered technique of the Old Masters, her method assumes an ability to distinguish between the different levels, as well as a talent for synthesizing them.

The first part of the book is devoted to the visibility of the invisible in the art of Jan van Eyck—his visual effects, perspective, artistic technique, and philosophy. The second and third parts are taken up with descriptions of the genres of "forest landscape," "still life," and "forest floor." In the midst of butterflies, bumblebees, and dragonflies, Vladimir Nabokov emerges as final witness to the survival in literature of all that was condemned to vanish from the fine arts. After a glimpse into the continuing presence of the past and some conjecturesas to the future, the book's final part throws fresh light on the colored grains of the hand-ground pigments that were lost when artists' materials began to be commercially manufactured in the nineteenth century.

The Art of Arts is thus both a dazzling cultural history and the story of two explosive inventions: the so-called third dimension of space through perspective, and the shockingly vivid colors of revolutionary oil paints. Albus makes abundantly clear how, taken together, these breakthroughs not only created a new art, but altered forever our perception of the world.

SYNOPSIS

In this utterly original book, Anita Albus tells the story—in the birth and triumph of oil painting, the creation of perspective, and the very nature of paint itself—of how, when, and why the eye became king of all the senses.

Albus's subjects are the inventors of easel painting in oils, the van Eyck brothers and their followers. It was in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in northern Europe that oil painting radically changed the way we perceived the world: the ear, through which we had previously received all knowledge, was replaced in importance by the eye. A painter of distinction herself, Albus re-creates this revolutionary time in all its intricacies, its familiarity, and its strangeness.

The Art of Arts is thus both a dazzling cultural history and the story of two explosive inventions: the so-called third dimension of deep space through perspective, and the shockingly vivid colors of a new kind of paint. Albus makes abundantly clear how, taken together, these breakthroughs not only created a new art but altered forever our perception of the world.

FROM THE CRITICS

Daniel Mendelsohn

The Art of Arts, a reverie about painting and seeing, begins with a description of a mere painting of the world, but by the time you've got to the end of this startlingly beautiful volume, with its two-color Renaissance typeface and exquisite gatefold reproductions, you feel like you've been everywhere and done everything. This is because Albus doesn't just show you things; she teaches you how to see for yourself.

Publishers Weekly

Painter and writer Albus (The Botanical Drama) has translated writings by the Goncourt brothers into German, and has illustrated books, including one by Claude L vi-Strauss. This seems to have been insufficient preparation for tackling the present project, an examination of how the invention of oil painting by Jan van Eyck and his followers changed human perception. Secondary sources, particularly the great Erwin Panofsky, are quoted so heavily as to almost overshadow the project, especially since Albus's own reflections are often banal. We are told, for example, that on seeing van Eyck's Madonna of Chancellor Rolin at the Louvre Museum, "you have to rub your eyes." The prose is often redundant. In one instance, a kind of paint is called "a senile dotard." Some of this may be clumsy translation, which also refers to a "thick-as-a-fist black eye," but observations such as "[j]ust as not all art is art, not all science is science" don't help. Discussions of some painters less well known than van Eyck, such as still-life masters Georg Flegel, Johannes Goedaeart and Otto van Schriek, are somewhat more engaging, and in the last 60 pages, painters' colors are described in some detail and to some point. These pages might have made an interesting short book or pamphlet, instead of a welcome respite from a tedious treatise. (Nov.) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.

Library Journal

Artist and writer Albus presents us with an interesting little enigma of a book. Ostensibly tracing the birth of oil painting, Albus cloaks this story in a complex and often opaque cultural history of the 15th and 16th centuries. Focusing on a few key painters Jan Van Eyck, Rogier van der Weyden, Gerard David, Hans Memlinc, and a few others Albus attempts to clarify how two features of modern painting three-dimensionality and the vivid colors of oil paints transformed the art form. Though the reader is occasionally caught up in her interesting stories (on the art of curing tobacco, for instance), they detract rather than add to the coherence of her thesis. The combination of a specialized focus and diffuse style result in an ultimately unsatisfying book. Recommended only for large collections of aesthetic history. Martin R. Kalfatovic, Smithsonian Inst. Libs., Washington, DC Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.\

WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING

This book enchants me with its revelations. I do not think anyone has ever succeeded so well in making clear that--contrary to popular belief--painting does not consist of taking three-dimensional objects and representing them in a two-dimensional way, but rather in the transformation of three-dimensional objects into another object which also has three dimensions--namely, the picture itself. — Claude Levi-Strauss

With Albus's book, we have been given a masterpiece. The author is a versatile genius, and this mighty work is unique in its highly original combination of knowledge of art history and technical experience. — William S. Heckscher