Nathaniel Bacon and rambling.

While looking through THE HISTORY OF BRITISH ART, 1600-1870, a decent book from the Beloit Library's new arrivals, I found this painting, by Nathaniel Bacon. It's titled Cookmaid With Still Life of Vegetables and Fruit, c. 1620-25. Vegetables and fruit and maybe a couple of nice, big, ripe, round melons.

Last year, to attend the Janesville Rennaissance Fair, TSO put together a Flemish outfit which, without the kerchief at the neck, looked a whole lot like this 'cookmaid', and I inquired as to whether she was planning on spending the day popping out of her top. TSO responded the way she usually does, pointing out pedantically and in excruciating detail that boobalicious fashions as so commonly depicted in movies are not usually at all accurate, as cleavage and bosom exposure was handled with a carefully arranged kerchief when appearing in public:



Dutch, early-mid 1600s.

Needless to say, watching 'historical costume dramas' with the woman is a pain in the ass: "That's not right! Her bonnet is so 1840s! That guy's trousers don't have the right cut! Etc."

Anyway, despite a rather top-heavy fashion clime, the cookmaid is falling out of her clothes as kitchens are hot, and a lot of the time, when not 'in public', people are not as fussy about how they dress, and the portrait title is probably an excuse to show off some skin. With some vague allegory about 'the bountifulness of nature's bosom' or some such.

What struck me about this painting, aside from the obvious, is that Bacon is considered an 'amateur painter', a wealthy dilettante of the time, who painted for his own amusement and fun, and not really an 'artist'. Who decides that kind of thing? I've run into I don't know how many people who introduce themselves with the title of 'artist': "Hi, I'm Curt Thossenthal, and I'm an artist". Well, who makes that judgement call? Who says, and why? Can you simply declare yourself something? Can I be a 'highly-paid consultant'?

At the writer's thing last week I took along some of the pictures I've drawn and a couple of the people asked about my 'art'. I'm uncomfortable with that. Why? Well, I'm not sure. It probably has to do with the fact that I originally wanted to be a cartoonist, and idolized the mid-1960s Charles Schulz, and never had any aspirations whatsoever to 'fine art'. I taught myself to draw because I wasn't happy with an inability to draw what I wanted to depict in a way acceptable to me.

To me, the things I draw are diagrams, sketches, blueprints; when I worked construction, the little pencil scribbles we'd draw on the back sides of lumber packaging to clarify the spacing of beams and studs: "So, this here (scribble) is gonna be spaced 16 on center, except for right here (scribble) where the electic comes in, and then we gotta (scribble) box that out and window it in (scribble)". The drawing practice I did came in handy doing deck layouts for submission to building departments. I got a lot of comments about clarity and simplicity.

(Blech. I went and made coffee in the plunger machine, and the coffee I've got right now is from Bent & Dent, the 'leftover food' outlet we have here in town. This place rocks, by the way. It's awesome. You can get all kinds of fancy, usually super expensive organic and imported foods for Aldi prices. However, don't buy coffee there. It's too old. The Newman's Own organic fairtrade coffee I'm currently drinking tastes suspiciously like ground-up Paul Newman.)

This amateur artist, Nathaniel Bacon, apparently did quite a few pieces, not many of which are still around, and currently this portrait of vegetables, fruits, and boobs spills out of a frame in the Tate Gallery.