Introduction to Art History

Watch your understanding of art history develop from stick figures to the Sistine Chapel.

  • Course Length: 18 weeks
  • Course Type: Elective
  • Category:
    • History and Social Science
    • Humanities
    • High School

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In this semester-long Introduction to Art History course, we'll cover everything from the first cave paintings to the Renaissance to pop art. Along the way, we'll learn all about how sociopolitical and technological changes are visible in the work.

Plus, we'll make collages and create performance art.

Are you skeptical of just how much you can read human history in the art world? Get ready for:

  • advancements in math and science that led to the discovery of one-point perspective during the Renaissance, and how artists went gaga over it. 
  • development of portable paint materials that made it a whole lot easier for Impressionists to paint en plein air—that's French-speak for in the open air.
  • why worldwide disillusionment after World War I led to an anti-language, anti-reason school of art called Dada.

Yep: Art and history collide in this interdisciplinary, standards-aligned course like you wouldn't believe. That's probably why they call it Art History.

By the end of the semester, you'll be able to identify artworks by their artist, rough time period, and their school or movement. You'll get to know how artists' choices create meaning, and connect artworks to the cultural and technological changes that they demonstrate or critique.

So if the side effects involve wearing a beret and talking about "formal analysis," that's a risk you'll just have to take.


Unit Breakdown

1 Introduction to Art History - Drawing on the Walls: Prehistoric and Ancient Art

We're going to take you way, way back in time—30,000 BCE to year zero, to be exact—to when it was socially acceptable to draw on the walls. From there, we'll move on to the art of ancient empires, and some very modern research tools—such as legitimate places to find art history information, citation, and open source images.

2 Introduction to Art History - 500-Pound Baby Jesus: Art of the Middle Ages

In this unit, we'll learn context, context, context, as the civilized world began to develop. We'll spend some time getting to know Islamic art, and then focus on how Christian paintings functioned in a Medieval Europe where most of the population was illiterate. Hint: it involved lots of paintings of Jesus.

3 Introduction to Art History - Before They Were Turtles: Raphael, Leonardo, and Art of the Renaissance

The Renaissance, which means "rebirth" in French (not an Italian word, for some reason), was all about returning to and remaking the achievements of Ancient Greece and Rome, coupled with new scientific discoveries. We'll dive headfirst into history, technology, and, obviously, art, in our accessible yet rigorous unit on this influential period.

4 Introduction to Art History - Getting Weird With Modern Art

Art started to get more experimental 'round 1800, when the Impressionists and then Postimpressionists rejected limits of subject and color. When photography burst onto the art scene, the door opened for even wilder stuff, including Surrealism, Abstract Art, and, dun dun dun…Dada!

5 Introduction to Art History - Postmodern Art: Sharing Voices

Artists have the power to influence different social circles and change the status quo. In this final unit, we will look at Postmodern art (yup, "modern" isn't the same as "present-day") and many of its mold-breaking forms, including installation and performance art. It's a great way to end the course, reflecting upon the many ways in which art can be used: as a bridge between different cultures, and to implement social change.


Sample Lesson - Introduction

Lesson 3.08: Going for Baroque

The Netherlands was having its Golden Age during the Baroque period. It was a hotspot for trade, scientific discoveries, and, most important to us right now, art.

(Hey, those painters weren't called the "Dutch Masters" for nothing.)

The Dutch rebelled against Spain in 1568, fighting until peace was made in 1648. With that piece became lots of new money for the Dutch. And more wealth means more potential patrons for art; merchants, in particular, formed a large new group of patrons for the arts.

Or, put less eloquently, "the Dutch got all up in Spain's grill and stole their Golden Age of art for themselves. Get to the reading already."


Sample Lesson - Reading

Reading 3.3.08: Rembrandt, Rubens, and Vermeer

Let's look at three major Baroque painters of the north: Rembrandt van Rijn, Pieter Paul Rubens, and Jan Vermeer.

(And BTW, we're going to stop putting "CE" after dates in art titles, citations, and years. If you don't know that these paintings of Jesus were painted after his alleged BCE death, you really need to head back to Unit 1 and start anew.)

Rembrandt van Rijn

Rembrandt van Rijn was so, very, Dutch. (Shmoop can say it, we're Dutch too.) It's hard to imagine him, or his art, being made anywhere else, or at any other time. To get a sense for what we mean by this, read up on Rembrandt's life and great works.

Want to see Dutch greatness in action? We're going to take a look at Rembrandt's masterpiece, the Nightwatch, which he painted in 1642. It's also called Militia Company of District II under Captain Fans Banninck Cocq, if you want to get all technical about it.

Context: A militia company was kind of a citizen's brigade. They were in charge of defending the city in times of strife. Rembrandt was commissioned by the company to paint a portrait of all its militia members. It was going to hang in their assembly hall—a place where they met to eat, drink and make merry.

These group portraits were kind of a "thing" in the Netherlands, just like celebrating militias were totally a thing. But painting a portrait of a bunch of men wearing black suits doesn't sound too exciting. Rembrandt decided to do something different than most artists had done, and show the militia in action, heading out for a parade. We told you he was a master!


(Source)
Rembrandt van Rijn, Night Watch, 1642. Oil on canvas, 12 × 14.3.' Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

We bet you can guess which one of these dudes is Caption Cocq. That's right, he's the one front and center. Instead of standing still, looking out at us like a regular portrait, he's shown in the midst of action. His open mouth and extended hand show that he's saying something. He's probably telling his lieutenant (on the right) to get the militia in order for their march.

Around him the members of the militia are getting their muskets (or arquebuses, as they were called in the olden days of yore) ready. Each of the men holding a musket shows a different way of preparing a musket for action: cleaning, priming, and even blowing the pan after firing. See if you can find these men (and try to imagine how loud it was, with muskets firing, too). Each of the people in the painting were real individuals. In fact, they paid Rembrandt to include their faces in the portrait. He probably made sketches of their individual faces to add into the painting.

Now let's look at how Rembrandt painted. He used lots of contrast between dark and light. We know it's nighttime, but there's also a lot of focused light coming into the scene—there's even a little girl who seems to emit her own light. She is a symbol of the company's mascot, a chicken (there's a dead one hanging from her belt). Rembrandt made her a real person rather than a symbol of the company.

There's something else that's really special about how Rembrandt painted. From a distance, say, from where you are, the painting looks very finished and detailed. But let's get a little closer to the surface of the painting.


(Source)

Gah! Is this even the same painting?

Sure is. But the clarity has all gone too, er, pieces. Rembrandt used big globs of paint, and he wasn't too concerned about precise contours between colors. We call paint applied thickly like this, and in heavy lumps, impasto. In some places, it doesn't even look like Rembrandt used a paint brush. He liked to use different tools, like the hard end of the brush, even his fingers, to manipulate the paint.

Was Rembrandt really Shmoop-level slovenly? Or did he mean to do it? Now let's look at this detail a little bit further out.


(Source)

Aha. Same detail, zoomed out—now you can see that the detail above was the tassel on the lieutenant's spear.

Phew. We totally knew he wasn't a slob all along; we were just messin' with yo. Rembrandt was so good, he could gauge just how things would look from afar, while applying paint in a seemingly messy way up close. Rembrandt was relying on our eyes here, and the way they consolidate colors and light. In fact, it's natural for our eyes to bring together fuzzy borders and overlapping colors. Rembrandt had a sixth sense for this. Yep, he was a master. And he pretty much changed the group portrait forever, too.

Rubens

Pieter Paul Rubens (no, not that Paul Reubens) was one cultured dude. Not only was he a painter, but he also studied for nine years in Italy, spoke several languages, and, worked as a diplomat for an Italian duke.

Suddenly Shmoop feels insecure.

When Rubens returned to Antwerp, his hometown (that's in present-day Belgium), he ran a big workshop. Lots of younger artists worked for him making paintings all day long. In keeping with his international-man-of-mystery status, Rubens painted kind of like Italian painters and kind of like painters from Antwerp: lots of color, and lots of big, fleshy figures. What can we say, it's not just the present-day world population that's a little on the chubs side.

In 1621, Rubens received a commission, patronage-style, from Marie de'Medici, the wife of King Henri IV of France, for a bunch of paintings to decorate her palace in Paris. Thing is, ole' King Henri had been dead for about 12 years—assassinated, in fact. Some thought that Marie had something to do with it. Ruben's commission, a series of 24 huge oil paintings called the Medici Cycle, was definitely political in its aims.

The story, on surface level, was a biography. Marie wanted Rubens to portray a history of her marriage and reign in France that would make her seem as innocent as a newborn baby. It would show she was the rightful queen of France. Contractually, Rubens had to show that she had been a model wife, and even a good queen after her husband died when her son, the rightful heir, was still too young to rule. Let's look at one of the paintings from this series.


(Source)
Peter Paul Rubens, Presentation of Marie de'Medici's Portrait to Henry IV, 1622 – 1625. Oil on canvas, 13 x 9.8.' Musée du Louvre, Paris, France.

In this painting, the fourth in the series, the King of France sees a picture of Marie de'Medici and instantly falls in love.

Awww. This was really how they did it in those days.

Rubens was no dummy. He knew he had to make paintings about real people and real events without offending anyone who was involved. And, he had to find exciting ways to paint events that may not have been that exciting in real life (like a guy looking at a painting).

His solution to amp up Marie's life was to make everything that might be considered factual really…vague. He also used a lot of allegory (read the definition here). This means that he added figures to the painting that represented ideas. They weren't real people or characters.

(Shocker: French queens didn't really hang out with angels in real life.)

In the painting above, Rubens added a few mythological figures and also an allegorical figure representing the kingdom of France. The two figures on the cloud above the scene are Jupiter and Juno, the king and queen of the gods (and a happily married couple). Below them Cupid, on the right, and a god named Hymen present the portrait to the King. The King looks like he's all loopy for Marie already, doesn't he? Behind him, whispering into his ear is an allegorical figure representing France. It looks like a real guy, but it represents the idea of the kingdom.

Now that's allegory.

You see how Rubens made what could have been a really dry event kind of interesting? He added all kinds of figures to the painting representing different ideas—like marriage, love, duty, and war. So did this event really happen? Kind of yes, and kind of no. Rubens pulled it off, and obviously, Marie was flattered. Propaganda mission accomplished.

Vermeer

Paintings of women in interior spaces by Jan Vermeer (1632 – 1676) are legendary. How legendary? They even made a Hollywood movie about one.

Take a look at Girl With a Pearl Earring, also called the Mona Lisa of the North.


(Source)
Jan Vermeer, Girl With a Pearl Earring, 1665. Oil on canvas, 17.5 × 15.4." Mauritshuis, The Hague, Netherlands.

Now take a look at this web article to get the full scoop on this lovely, baroque lady. One thing is for certain: These Baroque painters sure had a thing for turbans. And who can blame them; they're fabulous.


Sample Lesson - Activity

Activity 3.08a: Putting Allegory to The Test

We know, we know, you're desperate to look at more pix of pasty queens and angels. Luckily, your wish is granted. Take a look at another painting from Rubens' Medici Cycle. This is the sixth painting in the series, called the Arrival of Marie de'Medici at Marseilles, painted from 1622 – 25. (Yup, it took that long.)


(Source)
Peter Paul Rubens, Arrival of Marie de'Medici at Marseilles, 1622 – 1625. Oil on canvas, 13 x 9.8.' Musée du Louvre, Paris, France.

In this painting, Marie's arriving in France for the first time from Italy. She's stepping off a boat, and she's just about to meet her husband, the king, for the first time! You see, not only did the king fall in love with Marie via portrait, but he also married her without ever meeting her!

Let's put your image-reading knowledge to the test. Take a look at another Rubens painting also from this series and answer these simple questions below in a sentence or two each.

  1. Which figures in the painting do you think might be real people? How can you tell?

  2. What parts of the painting, or figures, might be made up by Rubens? How can you tell?

  3. Now take a stab at your own interpretation. Why do you think Rubens added all of the figures at the bottom (including the naked nymphs)?


Sample Lesson - Activity

Activity 3.08b: Making Meaning out of Vermeer

Ooooh, fancy: Check out this interactive web page that features Vermeer's Lady Standing at a Virginal, made between 1670 and 1673.

(PS: Stop giggling. A "virginal" is an early type of piano that you'll see in the painting.)

When you go to the web page, be sure to read all the hotspots around the painting. Also read all of the Special Topics, and the Fact Sheet, as well. Basically, read the whole page.

Your takeaway? Basically, we have a lady all by herself with an old time piano and a few paintings. Now it's time for you to tell us what you think Vermeer's painting is about. Use your knowledge from the readings and your awesome formal analysis skills to write a two-paragraph essay. (Yup—we're calling it an essay even though it's just two paragraphs, because we want to up the formality and fanciness.)

  • First, describe what you see in the painting.
  • Then, decide how you think all of the stuff in the painting makes it mean something. (Another way to think about it is to decide what the theme of the painting is, and how we know.)

You've formally analyzed before, Shmoopster, and you'll do it again. Type your paragraphs below.