Let’s start with composition. This refers to how the different parts of a work come together to create a whole (much like a piece of classical music – or a cake).
Next, up, we’ve got en plein air – a fancy way of saying 'outdoors'. Painting en plein air was popular with the Impressionists, who found that working outside let them capture the nuances of light and colour far better than they could in the studio.
Now, like almost every painter who came before them, the Impressionists were figurative artists. In plain English, this meant that they painted real things, like people and places and implausibly stacked fruit bowls.
By contrast, abstract artists aren’t interested in depicting the world as we normally see it: if you're into shapes, lines and big blobs of colour, this might be the style for you.
Another bit of art jargon that sounds scarier than it really is diptych. This is simply an artwork made up of two separate parts or panels. And you guessed it – a triptych is a work made up of three.
If a triptych doesn’t float your boat, then how about a tondo? Taken from rotondo, the Italian word for ‘round’, this refers to a work in the shape of a circle.
Another exotic term beloved by art buffs is fin de siècle. This French phrase translates to ‘end of century’, and generally refers to the period from around 1880 to 1900. Of course, you could simply say ‘the end of the 19th century’ – but that wouldn’t be anything like as impressive, would it?
Last but not least, we come to the most valuable weapon in the art expert’s arsenal. Next time you find yourself faced with a work you really don’t understand – or a work you really don’t like – stand in silence, slowly stroke your chin, and after at least twenty seconds have passed, utter the immortal words: hmm… interesting.
Right: you’re all set to dazzle the experts with your newfound vocab. But if you want to take things to the next level, be sure to download MuseMuse.
Our app is packed full of bite-sized breakdowns spanning thousands of years of art and culture. And whether you’re a complete newbie or a cultural connoisseur, you’re bound to learn something new (and have fun while you do it!).
There’s no nice way to put it: in medieval art, babies were pretty damn ugly.
But why?
It’s not because artists hadn’t worked out how to paint them properly – in fact, this was a deliberate stylistic choice… In medieval artwork, one baby popped up a whole lot more than the others: Jesus Christ.
There was a popular notion that Jesus was born “perfectly formed” and remained “unchanged” over time; this led to artists depicting him as a sort of weird little old man – and influenced portrayals of other babies too!
This all changed with the dawn of the Renaissance, and a new emphasis on realism in art.
Plus, as artists began to embrace non-religious subjects, wealthy patrons could commission portraits of their own families – and they didn’t want their own children looking like little old men!
So, ugly babies were out and cute babies were in. Way less disturbing, but nowhere near as fun…
In 1642, Captain Frans Banning Cocq commissioned Rembrandt to paint his civic guard company. Eighteen militiamen paid to be included, expecting equal prominence in a traditional group portrait. Instead, Rembrandt created a dynamic action scene with dramatic lighting that highlighted some figures while obscuring others in shadow.
The men in the shadows weren't pleased. They'd paid the same fee (roughly 100 guilders each, about $2,000 today) but appeared as mere background characters. Some were so dark you could barely make-out their faces. This wasn't just bad positioning: it was a social insult in 17th-century Amsterdam.
The painting's strangest element is a small girl in a golden dress, illuminated by mysterious light, wearing a dead chicken at her belt (a symbol of the civic guard). No one paid for her inclusion. Who is she? Art historians have debated for centuries. Some believe she's Rembrandt's deceased wife Saskia, who died that same year, inserted as a ghostly presence.
Recent analysis suggests the painting may reference a real scandal. The chicken claws on the girl's belt form a symbol that in 17th-century Amsterdam was code language used by members of a particular civic guard faction. The way certain figures' hands are positioned may indicate secret society signs. Was Rembrandt documenting internal power struggles and betrayals within the guard?
After the painting was delivered, Rembrandt's career mysteriously declined. He never received another major commission from Amsterdam's elite. Coincidence?
Leonardo da Vinci famously said, "Details make perfection, and perfection is not a detail." In the world of sculpture, this rings especially true. The finest works are defined not just by their overall impact but by the intricate details that bring them to life. Here, we introduce you to our favorite five sculptures that exemplify this mastery, where every detail has been meticulously carved to perfection.
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