We think of museums as collections of art, but they’re really collections of people first: curators, directors and donors, all of whom decide what paintings and sculptures a city buys, preserves and, most importantly, puts on display for the community to see.
So while the new “Castiglione: Lost Genius” features the talented Italian baroque sketcher in the exhibit’s name, it just as keenly shows off the skills and ambitions of DAM’s No. 1 showmaker, Timothy J. Standring, who put this unusual event together.
Standring, the man behind the museum’s two years ago, has been obsessed with Giovanni Benedetto Castiglione since he went through grad school three decades ago. While most of the world has been pretending to know who Castiglione is on those rare occasions when his name comes up, the curator has been studying every stroke of his pen, every etch on his plates. Standring is now the world’s biggest expert on the guy.
“Castiglione,” which starts a run in Denver before moving on to the esteemed in Fort Worth, Texas, is Standring’s big move, an attempt to give a personal favorite some overdue recognition. It is, in many ways, a reflection of the life work of both the artist and his No. 1 fan.
Not surprisingly, the exhibit presents a solid and scholarly argument. “Castiglione” isn’t a splashy museum show. It is full of monochromatic drawings made from simple marks that don’t bring attention to themselves through bold colors or subject matter. The artist was drawn to scenes popular in a different era, Old Testament moments, pastoral landscapes with cows and sheep, mythology and royalty. Few artists today are making images like “The Choice of Hercules” as Castiglione did at the height of his career in the 1650s.
But it is fascinating, from beginning to end. Even if you don’t agree that Castiglione is, indeed, a lost genius, you have to admire the show’s connoisseurship; the objects are well-chosen and vetted relentlessly for authenticity.
All of the works come from London’s , which means they’re part of the vast holdings of England’s royal family. The show is co-curated by Martin Clayton, head of the trust’s Prints and Drawings department.
But just because a drawing belongs to doesn’t mean it’s bestowed with instant credibility. Castiglione was widely copied in his day and beyond. Friends, strangers and even family members mimicked his style and passed their efforts off as originals. The trust, which generally acquired the works as part of large purchases after Castiglione died, has its fakes — and no one denies that.
Determining what’s real and what isn’t comes down to familiarity. Both Standring and Clayton, who teamed up six years ago, have viewed scores of Castiglione’s efforts, examining the viscosity of his pigments, the way he finishes lines, the purposefulness of every curve and point, shape and shadow, and the paper he used. They have learned to understand Castiglione’s individual language and can hear, in a work, when the accent is not his.
This is not, in the least, science, a matter of precise carbon dating or computer analysis. It’s the product of learned experience and imperfect at best. In fact — and this is almost unheard of for a museum effort — the two curators actually disagree publicly on the authenticity of about 10 percent of the works in the show. There was a bit of give and take when it came to making the final selections.
The exhibit is open about the doubts and, in fact, has a graphic explaining the guessing game and how curators make their determinations. You get to make your own, and that’s part of what makes this outing special.
Of course, there’s Castiglione’s work, as well, and it deserves deep examination. Unlike other painters of his day, he often created his oil drawings on unprimed paper. That gives works, like the emotive and reverential “The Virgin and Child with Saints Catherine and Mary Magdalene,” a casual essence, as if they are mock-ups for larger ideas to come. That is not the case — they are completed objects.
As Standring and Clayton make clear, Castiglione was also an experimenter of sorts, perhaps even the inventor of the monotype, using the form years before it became a standard in the art world. Some of the best works in the show display his deep intentions as a printmaker, including “The Nativity with Angels” and the amazing portrait titled “The Head of an Oriental,” from the 1640s.
Looking at the 90 works in “Lost Genius,” it’s easy to see why Castiglione was popular in his day and to guess why he faded into relative obscurity after he died. He was a difficult soul, according to the curators, a lawbreaker, shady businessman, perhaps even a violent criminal. His personal reputation suffered along with his legacy. Unlike other artists, there was no obvious dealer or heir with the ability to keep his aura alive.
Instead, he is survived by questions — and a few boosters in the local museum community who believe in his brilliance. Now, they just have to convince the rest of the world.
Ray Mark Rinaldi: 303-954-1540, rrinaldi@denverpost.com or twitter.com/rayrinaldi
CASTIGLIONE: LOST GENIUS — MASTERWORKS ON PAPER FROM THE ROYAL COLLECTION
The Denver Art Museum presents 90 works by the overlooked Italian baroque painter. Through Nov. 8. 100 W. 14th Ave. $10 for Colorado residents. 720-865-5000 or denverartmuseum.org.
