Marvelously, especially seeing as all of the eyewitnesses have been dead for centuries and only 20% of the original mural survives, an outfit known as Leonardo3 has "digitally reconstructed" Leonardo's Last Supper by stitching together high-resolution imagery and filling in color pixels. I'm guessing this worked in much the same way as using the "eyedropper" tool in Photoshop? The results. (Note the startlingly vivid, cookie-cutter perfect coloring, the re-emergence of the patterned wall hangings, the pristine tablecloth and Jesus' getting His feet back.)

Discovery News has all of the details here, along with the supremely annoying lazy-journalism habit of referring to Leonardo as "Da Vinci."

I have been thoroughly charmed by the exhibition American Stories: Paintings of Everyday Life, 1765-1915 that's currently on view through January 24, 2010 at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and will be traveling to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (February 28-May 23, 2010) for the second half of its existence. It's not just that I am an American, or that there are such iconic paintings on view, or even, I think, that any history lover would find fascinating the ways in which artists dealt with a growing nation full of indigenous peoples, slaves, immigrants, gentry, "common folk," pioneers, an inadequate list of Constitutional Amendments and one horrific Civil War.

No, for me the truly interesting part is getting a sense--yet again--of how adaptive visual artists can be. We start this exhibition looking at painters who were viewed in roughly the same context as a good cobbler or cooper: skilled craftsmen, to be sure, but not all that necessary unless circumstances or fortune demanded otherwise. What happened over the next 150 years is quite extraordinary. Artists became as modern day rock stars: well paid, besieged with work offers, and able to pick and choose their gigs. The hidden story here is that artists shaped public demand and made this happen. I always say it's foolish to underestimate the power of determined artists, and here's your proof. Please, catch this exhibition on either coast if you can. If you can't? Enjoy the image gallery!

Image Credit:

William Merritt Chase (American, 1849-1916)
Ring Toss, 1896
Oil on canvas
40 3/8 x 35 1/8 in. (102.6 x 89.2 cm)
Collection of Marie and Hugh Halff

The family of artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude announced early today that Jeanne-Claude died Wednesday night in New York City after suffering a ruptured brain aneurysm and its medical complications. Jeanne-Claude became more of a "name" in the media during 2005's The Gates installation in Central Park, but she had always worked in tandem with the more famous Christo. Their "wrapping" and large-scale outdoor projects are certainly well known in artistic circles: Wrapped Coast, Little Bay (1969), Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties (1976), Surrounded Islands, Biscayne Bay (1983) and The Umbrellas, Japan-U.S. (1991) are just a few of the projects whose titles bring a nod of recognition.

Jeanne-Claude Denat de Guillebon was born to a French military family in Casablanca on June 13, 1935--supposedly the same day that Christo Vladimirov Javacheff was born in Gabrovo, Bulgaria. The couple met in Paris in 1958, and spent the next 51 years in an artistic, business, matrimonial and parental partnership. It is difficult to contemplate not seeing them together. For those of us wondering what will become of the planned Over the River and Mastaba projects, the artists' website simply and poignantly says this:

"Christo is deeply saddened by the passing of his wife, partner and collaborator and is committed to honor the promise they made to each other many years ago: The art of Christo and Jeanne-Claude will continue."

I've heard gossip, over the years, that Jeanne-Claude could be either the soul of graciousness or the "enforcer" of the duo--a small woman with a short temper and unapologetically, unnaturally Fauve-orange hair who'd crack the whip on installation sites, keep track of finances and grant (or not) media access to Christo. I don't know if the gossipers were accurate in their recollections, but I hope they were and here's why: good for her if she took on those roles. It's quite the rare Venn diagram where an artist not only makes art, but understands money, public relations and how to act like a field marshal while protecting another artist's productive time--especially another artist whose fame is greater. I'm happy thinking that Jeanne-Claude eventually got due recognition for being at least half of the artistic process the world thinks of as "Christo," so will say it again: good for her.

Related Reading:

• Christo Bio
• The Gates, 2005 - A Short Walking Tour
• Christo and Jeanne-Claude - Official Website

Image caption: Artists Jeanne-Claude and husband Christo, recipients of the Peopling of America Award, address the audience during the awards ceremony on Ellis Island April 19, 2005 in New York City. © Stephen Chernin/Getty Images

Lucas Cranach the Elder (German, 1472-1553)
St. Mary Magdalene in a Landscape, 1525
Mixed media on beechwood
47.8 x 30 cm (18 13/16 x 11 13/16 in.)
© Wallraf-Richartz-Museum & Fondation Corboud, Köln

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Another year, another smash and grab in Oslo, another Munch theft. One might be forgiven for wondering if Norwegian art thieves have ever heard of Frits Thaulow, Erik Werenskiold or the more modern Gunnar S? Odd Nerdrum, even? Anyone besides Edvard Munch? If these robbers are all Norwegian citizens, they (or, more likely, the people for whom they are working) show a sad lack of cultural awareness. (Yes, and also a willful disregard of the law. And ignorance of mortal sin. And so on.)

Image Credit:

Edvard Munch (Norwegian, 1863-1944)
Historien (History), 1914
Lithograph with hand coloring
57 x 98 cm (22 7/16 x 38 9/16 in.)

Photo © INAH, Centro Regional de Investigaciones

(While they distilled alcohol, I am fairly certain that members of the Mayan culture didn't carry firearms, wear safety orange or need special permits to take antlerless deer. In fact, some Mayan artisan actually saluted this doe in ceramic form. That said, happy firearms deer season to you hunters who will go sit out in the predicted freezing rain before sunup next Monday. P.S.: Never make fun of art historians for incomprehensible pursuits, all right? Ever again. You know who you are. And I know where you've plugged your campers' extension cords into our household outlets.)

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So, today the President's Committee on the Arts and Humanities named 26 nominees to this largely ceremonial post. Which is cool because, hey! It's honestly thrilling to see a guy so busy trying to find a large enough tow truck to pull the US economic bus out of the ditch give even a passing nod towards something so crucial (to some of us) as the Arts and Humanities. And the Honorary Chairman of the PCAH is First Lady Michelle Obama, a lovely, genuine human being with larger issues on her agenda. Please don't suppose that I suppose Barack and Michelle Obama stayed up late over the course of several nights agonizing over this list like a State dinner seating chart, because I'm not, quite, that stupid. However.

I've read over the official list, and can't help but notice that the roster reads more-or-less thusly: actor, actor, actor, actor, cellist, architect, playwright, jazz underwriter, film producer, Senator's wife, Senator's billionairess wife, Editor in Chief of VOGUE (I kid you not), ballet dancer and publicist. There are a lot of names, but none of them belong to visual artists, museum directors, gallery owners or, indeed, anyone who huffs paint fumes, cuts mats, welds or chisels for a living. By the way, a BOATLOAD of visual artists were on board for our current President during the election campaign that ended one short year ago.

Speaking from long and expensive experience, the "Arts" and "Humanities" include visual art. (If there are some new definitions of these words, I am going to attempt to retroactively sue a few undergraduate programs for my BFA.) Making visual art, studying visual art and preserving visual art are the lives' works of some US citizens who deserve both respect and recognition. As mentioned, these are largely ceremonial posts ... but how's about a tiny hat tip to the discipline solely devoted to one of our five senses on the next go-round, PCAH?

The independent film Mr. Art Critic was released on DVD a couple of weeks ago. Now, normally I don't "do" video reviews, but this opportunity was too good to pass up for several reasons. First, I have an extremely short, top secret list of art critics whose reviews I love to loathe and so was wondering if this comedy might shed some light on their ceaseless causticity. (The answer: not really; this isn't a documentary.)

Secondly, I was curious to see a comedic treatment applied to the terribly, terribly serious business of reviewing gallery shows and juried competitions. We've probably all seen works--and audience behavior--at both that required muffled coughing of us to stifle fits of inappropriate laughter, and we've doubtlessly all read reviews that seemed to be written about a completely different event. Could Mr. Art Critic deliver a solid 90 minutes built around these inside jokes? (The answer: yes. Deliciously so.)

Finally (upcoming shameless plug warning), aside from some opening footage shot in Chicago and a highway montage, Mr. Art Critic was filmed on location in Traverse City and Mackinac Island, Michigan. Richard Brauer, who wrote and directed the movie, lives and works in the area, and nearly all of the cast and crew are Michiganders. As am I. We share a beautiful corner of the Wolverine State, and I'm delighted to think of you viewing scene after scene of one of the most charming, picturesque spots we have to offer: Mackinac Island. If you've never visited, we all hope that you will.

For Your Reading and Viewing Pleasure:

• Mr. Art Critic review
• Mr. Art Critic trailer
• Brauer Productions, Inc. website
• The Mackinac Island Tourism Bureau

Hans Baldung Grien (German, 1484/85-1545)
Zwei Hexen (Two Witches), 1523
Oil and tempera on limewood
65.3 x 45.6 cm (25 11/16 x 17 15/16 in.)
Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main
Photo © Ursula Edelman

(If you are looking for subtlety here, forget about it. During the Northern Renaissance, witches were portrayed as evil women. Malevolent, naked, seductive women. Sinister, smirking, Fall of Man-causing women. Much like Eve in the Book of Genesis, minus the mitigating Satan/serpent flimflam factor. You can read all about this I-wish-I-could-say-it-no-longer-exists mindset here in "Christian Imagery and Witchcraft in Prints by Hans Baldung Grien" by Stan Parchin.)

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Remember that art theft over a month ago, where an entire Warhol series went missing? And how there was a $1 million reward for information leading to their recovery? Well, we can all kiss the promise of reward money goodbye. The insurance company withdrew it about 10 minutes after collector Richard L. Weisman withdrew his claim. "Withdrew his insurance claim?" I can almost hear you ask (as I did). Yes. It went something like this:

• Owner withdraws insurance claim worth up to $25 million.
• The LAPD Art Theft Detail, somewhat untactfully, publicly remarks that this is a "curious" move.
• Owner takes umbrage at LAPD Art Theft Detail remarks.

Annnnd ... well, that's it. All quiet on the Weisman front ever since. Apparently, when Richard L. commissioned the Athlete Series he bought something like eight sets of them. Perhaps it's just a small matter to get replacements out of storage. And +/- $11 million possibly isn't the make-or-break point of his personal checking account, as +/- $11 can be at my house. Who knows? Not me! In my next life, I'm going to attach myself to a Rich Person as soon as I'm old enough to properly say the words, "Please, kind sir. Take me in and teach me the ways of your people."