Welcome to the Regina A. Quick Center for the Arts, where heart meets mind, to the Beltz Gallery and the "Art of Storytelling" from the 16th through 20th centuries. This exhibit, made possible by the generous gifts to the university from Dr. T. Edward Hanley and the Col. Michael Friedsam Collections, has been thoughtfully curated to offer visually expressive and illustrative work, and we hope you come away seeing and appreciating the past with the eyes of the present and in relation to our current digital and AI world. 

Art has been used throughout history to help tell stories. For many centuries, churches were filled with art to help those who could not read to understand scripture. Today, we visit galleries and museums to view art, to learn the stories and places visited by artists throughout time. 

It is almost like walking with them on their "good journey" or Bonaventura, and entering a portal into what they saw, sort of like posting on social media or being what we think of as an influencer in our digital world. 

In this exhibition, you will encounter many different types of portals to beauty, from religious art to portraits to landscapes. This falls deeply in line with our Franciscan value of haecceity, or thisness. 

Coined by Blessed John Duns Scotus, Franciscans believe that every created being and thing contains its own thisness, an inherent part of us that makes us uniquely beautiful and differentiates us from one another. 

While each of us contains our own beauty, each of us also is drawn to a different beauty that is around us. Beauty is something we experience when our senses communicate something to our brain, which then aligns to our heart, drawing us closer to something beyond ourselves that we cannot quite explain. 

As you enter into these portals of stories throughout the centuries, allow yourself to be immersed in the different beauties within, where heart meets the mind.

As you enter the gallery, please turn left, where your journey transports you to the late 15th and early 16th centuries, the time of the Italian Renaissance. 

This rebirth era, which followed the centuries-old economic and cultural medieval Dark Ages, was a quintessential turning point across the spectrum in the art world. Several of the artists represented here were contemporaries of Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo da Vinci, and they evoke images of a bustling Florence, Rome, Venice, and other Italian ports of call, a movement that would lead to one of the most highly creative and productive explosions of art in history.

Welcome to The Art of Transformation from the 16th to the 20th Centuries.

Beginning on your left, look at these four works — three paintings and a sculpture. They’re beautiful examples of early Renaissance imagery depicting central religious themes.

The first work is one of the earliest pieces in our exhibit, and it’s by Fra Angelico, who lived from 1387 to 1455. It’s his "Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints," a classic example of an artist illustrating an iconic religious subject through visual symbolism. Encapsulated here are Christ’s infancy and his foreshadowed death and resurrection. At the center of the work, the Holy Mother cradles her babe, all the while knowing his fate, depicted in the scene above her. The mother and child are surrounded by various saints and angels, emphasizing for the viewer the importance of faith and devotion.

Think for a moment about the impact that seeing such a representation of this biblical story could have had on a viewer of the time — before the printing press transformed Europe and illuminated manuscripts were only for the literate. Pieces such as this one could influence the viewer’s daily religious life.

Here’s a fun fact: Known as the Angelic Painter, Fra Angelico was beatified by Pope Saint John Paul II, who declared him the patron of Catholic artists. You may visit his tomb in the Church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome.

Fra Angelico’s "Madonna and Child" was created on prepared wood using tempera, a water-based paint made of egg yolk and ground pigments. Although using tempera prevented cracking on the wooden surface, it dried very quickly and so hampered the artist’s creative timing and flexibility.

In the next two paintings, we see the visual transformation of similar stories. Bernardino Lucinio’s "Holy Family with Saint John" and Giovanni Bellini’s "Madonna and Child with Donor" are examples of the same subject with different results. Just as we upgrade our digital devices today, artists in the 16th century experimented with a new medium — oil paint — which dries more slowly and therefore gives the artist a longer creation time and the added ability to layer colors and textures.

Here we can see how these images, in comparison to Fra Angelico’s, have a realistic, three-dimensional composition and a depth to the figures, giving the works a more natural look and feel. Lucinio's painting depicts the Madonna and Child in a way that’s relatable for a wide audience: motherhood, children, home, surroundings, landscape — pairing this imagery with rich religious context. The lambs in the field could serve as symbols of Christ’s flock and his suffering and sacrifice as the Lamb of God.

The lamb tucked in the bottom left-hand corner of the painting identifies that child as Saint John the Baptist. He holds onto the staff grasped by the baby Jesus, with the cross at the top — signifying Christ’s eventual crucifixion. It’s a snapshot of everyday life, but with strong religious meaning.

In Bellini’s painting, the drapery behind the Madonna and Child gives depth to their images and accentuates their lifelike features. The donor, who likely commissioned the piece for private devotion, appears behind them on the right. In place of a strict religious scene, as in Fra Angelico’s icon, these three figures compose a natural family portrait, again with strong religious overtones.

Here’s a fun fact: The first Bellini cocktail was poured in the summer of 1948 by Giuseppe Cipriani, founder and barman of the legendary Harry’s Bar in Venice, Italy. Legend has it that the characteristic sunset shade of the drink — made of peach purée and prosecco — reminded the bartender of 15th-century paintings by Venetian artist Giovanni Bellini.

The last piece in this grouping is a stone sculpture portraying the Madonna and Child. We know little about this work or its provenance, aside from old St. Bonaventure University notes suggesting that it may be 13th-century French.

Here we see the Virgin holding a ball that the infant Jesus has just dropped from his right hand. It’s a beautiful, almost playful depiction of the Madonna and Child, but the artist and the exact date of the work are unknown.

If we move across to the other side of the gallery now, we can enjoy four more superb examples of evolving Renaissance imagery.

The top painting, "Madonna del Sacco," is a bit of a mystery. The original painting is by Pietro di Cristoforo Vannucci, also known as Pietro Perugino, and is on display at the Palazzo Pitti in Florence. But we don’t know who painted this copy.

Notice how the style of the Madonna and Child has changed from the previous works we’ve seen. The child is not held on the Holy Mother’s lap. Instead, she kneels in front of him in her resplendent garments — her blue cloak representing the Virgin’s purity and symbolizing the skies, and her red dress signifying love, passion and devotion — traits connected with motherhood and exemplified by Mary’s presence at the Crucifixion.

The baby is sitting on a sack of grain — the sacco — symbolizing his coming resurrection. For as we read in the Gospel of John: “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat. But if it dies, it produces much fruit.”

An angel gently holds the baby Jesus, while the infant Saint John holds under one arm the symbol of Christ’s future crucifixion — as we saw in Lucinio's painting.

The oil paint colors are rich, and the figures feel so real it seems they could step right out of the frame. The panorama behind them adds strong contrast and depth. It’s a novel approach, with the landscape illustrating a recognizable rural scene — framing a family portrait that retains strong religious messages.

Directly below "Madonna del Sacco," let’s look at "Veronica Wiping the Brow of Jesus," the sixth of the devotional 14 Stations of the Cross. The artist of this work is also unknown, but unlike the Italian paintings we’ve seen so far, this work is considered to be of Flemish origin. Its style evokes the 15th- and 16th-century Flemish artists Hans Memling and Pieter Brueghel the Elder.

Let’s look at the composition of this work. Jesus is in the center with five men around him and the lone woman, Veronica, positioned in front — also as a central figure. Her dress is a different color than all the other figures, making her stand out.

At first glance, the scene appears to be a classic representation of the story: Veronica wiping Jesus’s face as he carries his cross to his Crucifixion. But there’s a twist — because in place of the historical Roman centurion guards, the artist has substituted guards in Spanish dress.

Is this perhaps a nod to Spain’s control of the Netherlands beginning in 1556? Could this be an early example of artistic license, or did the patron who commissioned the work request it to be done just this way?

The next painting before us is Annibale Carracci’s magnificent "Descent from the Cross." Here, in Baroque style, is a classic Pietà — the body of Jesus laid in his mother Mary’s lap, with a sorrowful Mary Magdalene looking on.

Notice that at the base of the painting on the left are the remnants of the Crucifixion: the crown of thorns and the nails that had held Jesus to the cross. In the middle are two cherubs — one pointing to the stigmata on Christ’s hand, and the other to the one on his foot, where the nails had pierced him.

But look at the male figure to the left of Christ — it’s Saint Francis of Assisi, identifiable by his brown robe and the stigmata on his hands and exposed foot. Why is he present? Is this an example of a sort of 16th-century Photoshop — placing into an image someone or something that wasn’t originally there? In this case, most likely at the request of whoever commissioned the work.

An almost identical painting by Domenichino, "The Lamentation," on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, depicts the historical male figure as Joseph of Arimathea, who, with Nicodemus, took Jesus down from the cross and interred him in his tomb.

Why Joseph of Arimathea was replaced by Saint Francis of Assisi in this painting, we don’t know.

As the Renaissance rolled on, portraiture was on the rise and becoming popular with artists’ wealthy patrons. These portrait paintings provided patrons with a vehicle to communicate with — and to impress and influence — those around them. You could think of these portrait paintings as the Facebook of their time.

As we look at Amico Aspertini’s "Portrait of Taddeo Taddei," we see a solo subject painted against a plain background. Taddeo Taddei fills the canvas and looks directly at us. His facial features are well defined, and his hair and clothing reflect what an affluent young man of the time would have worn. His hand appears to be tucked inside his coat — a common practice in those days denoting social etiquette and station, which would certainly have suited Taddeo.

He was a wealthy cloth merchant and patron of the arts. The Renaissance masters Raphael and Michelangelo were artists in his social circle. Notice the thin object jutting out from his lapel. Could it perhaps be a pipe or a writing instrument? Does his appearance seem familiar to you? Look back at Bellini’s "Madonna and Child with Donor" and notice Taddeo’s resemblance to the donor in that painting — both modern-day hair influencers of their time.

Here’s a fun fact: the Taddei Tondo, an unfinished marble sculpture by Michelangelo commissioned by and named after the merchant, remained in his Florence home, the Casa Taddei, until the early 19th century. It now resides at the Royal Academy of Arts in London.

The next few works show a compositional shift, with one person becoming the central figure of each painting.

The first is a stark contrast to the vibrancy of Aspertini. "Saint Francis Weeping on the Cross" presents a dark depiction of the saint. The artist is unknown, but the painting is done in the style of Doménikos Theotokopoulos — known as El Greco — the major Greek artist of the late 16th and early 17th centuries and a leading painter in the Mannerist style during the Spanish Renaissance.

In this painting, Saint Francis is again identified by his brown robe and the stigmata — the same type of wounds inflicted on Christ during his Crucifixion. Francis reportedly received the stigmata in 1224 after withdrawing to the hills of La Verna to pray and do penance. Born into a wealthy family, he left that life at the age of 24 after hearing Christ’s voice say, “Rebuild my church, which is in ruins.” Choosing a path of poverty and service, Francis was canonized by Pope Gregory IX in 1228 and became known as the patron saint of animals and the environment.

Here, the artist has chosen to show Francis weeping while caressing the cross — a strong message to the viewer, not only about the suffering of Christ, but of the suffering of everyday people in the difficult times of the early 13th century.

According to Fr. Ryan Erlenbusch, Saint Francis “spent more time weeping than laughing,” and he quotes Saint James: “Be afflicted, mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to heaviness.”

Here’s a fun fact: Jorge Mario Bergoglio made history in 2013 as the first Jesuit pope — and the first to choose Francis as his papal name — signaling his intent to move the Catholic Church beyond the workings of its past. Pope Francis’s unifying mandates included a strong focus on the poor.

As we round the corner, we see "Portrait of a Man" by Diego Velázquez. This is an outstanding example of Baroque-period portraiture. Velázquez was dubbed “the painter of painters” by Impressionist Édouard Manet, one of many major post-Renaissance artists influenced by his work.

The independent painting style of Velázquez shows brushstrokes that are looser, bolder, more descriptive and fleshed out — making this figure feel alive, as if you could step up and begin a conversation with him.

Notice the change in physical appearance and attire from the images we’ve seen thus far in the exhibit. This portrait could be seen as a bold statement of position, power and prestige — the image of an influencer whom others might wish to emulate.

In the case below the Velázquez portrait are two works by Albrecht Dürer: "Death of a Virgin" and "Holy Family with Musical Angels." Both are manuscript pieces from the Nuremberg Chronicle of 1493.

Along with Velázquez, Albrecht Dürer reigned as one of the most influential artists of the Renaissance. Much as Michelangelo was regarded as both a great sculptor and a gifted painter, Dürer gained a reputation as both a fine artist and a brilliant printmaker. These two woodcuts show why he was regarded during his lifetime as the greatest German artist.

Woodcuts are created by transferring drawings to wooden blocks, then intricately carving out the blank areas — leaving behind the lines and shapes that can be inked and printed on paper. Examine the incredibly fine detail of these two pieces and imagine the painstaking carving involved. Remember that this was accomplished during a time before electricity, so creating these images would have been far more challenging than today.

Woodblock prints were mainly used for publishing, and Dürer apprenticed with Michael Wolgemut — an accomplished artist in his own right — who was a major illustrator for the Nuremberg Chronicle, which was the Encyclopedia Britannica of its day.

Now let’s look at this colorful leaf from a 17th-century Persian illuminated manuscript depicting a war scene.

Manuscripts of this type were essentially hand-painted books. They served as storytelling vehicles — either for religious devotion or as guides for those who could not read. The medium used is called gouache, which is the opposite of transparent watercolor. White pigment would have been added to the other pigments, along with a binding agent, to create an opaque paint.

Look closely at the manuscript and imagine what ancient tale could be unfolding. Is the central figure leading the charge or being surrounded by an enemy? Perhaps he’s a soldier returning to celebrate a victory — or arriving to share important news.

Think of this as the Kindle of its time.

During the Renaissance, the serious training needed to become an accomplished painter was mainly obtained by apprenticing with a well-known artist or attending an artist’s school.

"Portrait of a Rabbi" is a superb example of a 17th-century product of one such artist’s teaching: Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn — or, as he was known, simply Rembrandt. Notice how the light reflects off the middle of the rabbi’s face, illuminating the larger-than-life image. He looks straight at us, as if to invite us into the frame to begin a conversation.

While not a product of the master himself, St. Bonaventure University’s archives record that Rembrandt expert Dr. Ernst van de Wetering examined the painting and determined it was from Rembrandt’s workshop. This portrait illustrates the results of a successful apprenticeship with a great artist and the influence of established artists and their patrons.

Here’s a fun fact: In 1669, Rembrandt — one of the most famous artists of all time — died at the age of 63, heartbroken and penniless. In 2022, one of his paintings, "The Standard Bearer," sold at auction for $198 million.

A beautiful follow-up to "Portrait of a Rabbi" is another portrait by another master artist of the day. "Portrait of an Old Man" is by Peter Paul Rubens, who lived until 1640. Rubens was one of the most famous and accomplished Flemish painters of his time. He was influenced by the Italian Renaissance artists and by Annibale Carracci, whose "Descent from the Cross" we viewed earlier in the exhibit.

Compare this portrait with Aspertini’s "Portrait of Taddeo Taddei," and notice the transformation in both style and presentation. The expressive realism of this figure — the warm facial tones and the old man’s steady gaze — helps reveal a genuine sense of the person.

The Elizabethan-style collar, known as a ruff, might have been as starched, scratchy and uncomfortable as it looks, but it was a major 17th-century fashion statement denoting a man of wealth and status — and it literally helped to keep his bearded chin up.

The next two pieces are paintings by acclaimed Dutch artists: "Gypsy Fortune Teller" by Jan Victors and "Cornfield in the Dunes" by Jan Wijnants. These 17th-century works are fine examples of art portraying the natural world — a world that was recognizable and understandable to a broad audience, and that marked a break from the religious genre paintings of the past.

In Jan Victors’ work, we see a rural farm scene with peasants going about their daily routines, interrupted by the presence of the Romani fortune teller reading a woman’s palm. What might her future hold? Perhaps love. Perhaps riches. Perhaps something darker. Where did the fortune teller come from? Maybe from the small town depicted far down the road in the painting. What payment will she get in return for her palm reading?

The realism, movement and depth of the painting illustrate what Jan Victors — who may have been a student of Rembrandt’s — could accomplish.

 

In the next painting by Jan Wijnants, we survey a Dutch landscape — the serene, uncomplicated beauty of the countryside with a town in the distance. It could be an Instagram posting from someone's vacation, a snap of a specific time and place that will continue in perpetuity even after the centuries have forever altered the scene

Rounding out our 17th century works collection is a painting by another student of Rembrandt, Ferdinand Bol, who lived until 1680. The work is titled "Moses Descends from Mount Sinai with the Ten Commandments," and that's exactly what it depicts: Moses carrying the stone tablets down Mount Sinai to the Israelites. However, we see from the rapturous reception of the crowd that these are the second set of commandments brought down after the blasphemous chaos of the Israelites caused Moses to destroy the originals. Artists often produce preliminary studies for larger works, and this piece was indeed painted in preparation for a mural that now resides in the Citizens Hall of the Royal Palace in Amsterdam.

A transformation began toward the end of the 17th century as the Renaissance began to transition into the modern age. The manufacture of textiles had its own renaissance from the second half of the 14th century to the end of the 18th, and the two lovely tapestries displayed here fall within the range of that very prolific period. According to the St. Bonaventure Archives, these pieces were created at the historic Manufacture des Gobelins in Paris, possibly in the 18th century, and they are superb examples of the elegant style of the time. Artists would have provided images to the textile manufacturers, who would then translate them into tapestry patterns. Tapestries like these were quite expensive to loom, and they would have hung in churches and houses of the wealthy. They transformed rooms as decorative enhancements and kept walls and interior spaces warmer during the colder months.

Here's a fun fact: According to a recent article in the New York Times, tapestries are no longer just for Gothic castles. Antique weavings are making a big comeback with interior designers. They're like lenses into another world, according to Manhattan-based architect and designer Giancarlo Valle. Tapestries are great for rooms that need a big storytelling element.

Our next work is the painting "Man with a Turban," and it's attributed to the great Venetian painter and printmaker Giovanni Domenico Tiepolo. It's an example of a fantasy portrait. This genre transformed Renaissance portraiture from the representation of a specific person into idealized depictions of exotic or historic types. Characters are shown sporting ornate clothes and accessories, adopting studied poses, and are usually given the features and attributes typical of a particular social, economic, or intellectual group. What group do you think this figure with the turban represents?

The next two portraits of Saint Clare and Saint Francis of Assisi were painted by Johann Andreas Herrlein for the Fulda monastery in Germany. Francis and Clare had much in common. They were both born into wealth and both turned away from that wealth to forge lives of piety, purpose and poverty. They are identifiable by the symbols represented in the paintings.

Clare is portrayed in a brown habit with a halo signifying her sainthood. She holds a monstrance containing a consecrated host with a white cloth wrapped around the base, to prevent it being touched by her human hand. Look at the end of the staff she's holding and notice what appears to be a sunflower at the tip. It's another of her symbols.

Saint Francis is portrayed in his brown robe. On the table is a skull, a symbol of mortality, and a crucifix, symbolizing Christ's plea for Francis to rebuild the church. Francis and

Clare were friends throughout their lives. Imagine for a moment these two luminous portraits hanging on the walls of the Fulda monastery, and the impact they may have had on those who saw them every day.

Here's a fun fact: Saint Clare is the patron saint of television, for it's said that when she was too ill to attend mass, she could hear it and see it on her walls.

And here's another fun fact: Saint Bonaventure's life became entwined with Saint Francis of Assisi when he was gravely ill as a small child. Bonaventure's mother pleaded insistently for Saint Francis to intercede and save her son.

Above the two portraits of Clare and Francis is another piece by Peter Paul Rubens. It's a powerful rendering of the coronation of the Virgin. This drawing is in pencil and red chalk. It would have been used as a study for a commissioned painting. Notice that this work shows a real transformation from the earlier religious themed pieces we've seen in the exhibit, and the use of lines that are looser and freer, giving the composition depth and the figures, movement and expression. These figures aren't posed, but actively engaged. There is a sister drawing to this one in the collection of the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rotterdam in the Netherlands, and there are Rubens coronation paintings in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.

Here's a fun fact: According to the National Gallery of Art in London, while he was painting, Rubens would often have someone read to him from a work of classical literature.

Now let's look at another work using red chalk that was also a study for a painting. It's Francesco Solimena's "The Prophet." Solimena lived and painted in Naples, Italy, and was an internationally renowned artist of the Baroque period. He came from a family of draughtsmen and artists, including Francesco Goya and Jacob de Wit, who studied his work.

Jacob de Wit, a painter and interior designer, lived and worked in Amsterdam during what's known as the Dutch Silver Age. His" Allegory of Abundance" is a lovely study in grey wash, which could have been created for one of his commissioned paintings, or may have been a study for a decorative ceiling. Notice the cherub on the left, which is typical of de Wit's style.

Let's move from drawings to a painting now as we look at Francesco Guardi's "Rialto Bridge with the Palazzo dei Camerlenghi." Guardi was an accomplished artist whose work was emulated by other artists. This 20th century copy of one of his works is just such an example. The painter of this copy is unknown, but the image is one of old Venice with a great view of the Rialto Bridge, a Renaissance engineering marvel rising amid its surroundings.

This painting was directly influenced by Guardi's "Grand Canal with Rialto Bridge, Venice" from 1780, which is part of the National Gallery of Art's collection in Washington, D.C. Guardi had great commercial success with these types of images, allowing Venetian tourists of the day to take a remembrance of Venice and an artistic treasure back home.

The portrait of Miss Barnard by Sir Thomas Lawrence, who lived until 1830, is an exquisite rendering of a young lady who looks as though she's in a modern snapshot of a single moment in her day. The composition is cropped in a way that doesn't allow us to see what's going on around Miss Barnard, and we're left wondering where she is and who she's with. The partial hand we see touching her back tells us she's not alone, and she glances over her shoulder, as interested in us as we are in her. Lawrence has created a piece where the subject doesn't seem posed, but rather there's an indication of movement as the hand ushers her along. We could also imagine this painting as a piece belonging to a larger canvas.

Here's a fun fact: Sir Thomas Lawrence became the fourth president of the Royal Academy of Arts in London, where he'd been a student during his early years.

Our next work is part of a six-work series of paintings turned into engravings titled "Marriage A-la-Mode." This is the second piece in the series called the "Tête à Tête." In this series of works, the artist, William Hogarth, takes a satirical look at the consequences of arranged marriages. Engraving is a complex process of carving a drawing into a metal plate and then inking and printing, producing a reversed image. This print is meticulously done. Unlike singular paintings, engravings allow multiple prints to be produced and sold, which was lucrative, especially when done as a set, as was the case here. These Hogarth black-and-white prints were extremely popular and sold very well.

Facing the center wall, we see five impressive portraits. John Johnston's "Portrait of Sam Hill." Thomas Gainsborough's "Lady with Lace Headdress." "Portrait of an Unknown Woman" by John Wesley Jarvis. Sir Thomas Lawrence's portrait of Miss Barnard and "Portrait of Mrs. Fenton" by George Romney. Collectively, these portraits are examples of the way influencers of the time projected images of wealth, position and power. These women wear fashionable hairstyles and are attired in fine clothing and jewelry that befitted their stations in life. We notice Miss Barnard holding a book, a common prop used in portraiture to symbolize her education and knowledge. Mr. Hill, a longtime member of the legislature, is shown holding a piece of parchment with the word "Parliament" visible, illustrating his influential political life.

In the 18th and early 19th centuries, portraits were often used like we use Facebook or internet dating sites today. A painter needed to convey not only what their subjects looked like, but their personalities and characters as well. Mrs. Fenton's portrait reflects this beautifully. In comparison to the other three more traditional women featured, Mrs. Fenton's image seems more alive, freer and less constrained. There's a light and vivacity to her. George Romney's painting style is evocative of the American artist and portrait painter John Singer Sargent. Mrs. Fenton, an actress on the London stage, was born into poverty but would go on to marry nobility and assume the real-life role of the Duchess of Bolton.

Here's a fun fact: King Henry VIII agreed to marry Anne of Cleves in 1540 after his royal court artist, Hans Holbein the Younger, showed him his portrait of her. Apparently, Henry thought Anne's appearance in real life did not live up to her portrait, and they were divorced soon after. However, both Anne and Hans kept their heads.

Hung in between our portrait paintings, the next six engravings are beautiful examples of Hans Holbein's work. These engravings were taken from Holbein's original drawings and include the famous likeness of Sir Thomas More, reproduced by master printmaker Francesco Bartolozzi, who lived until 1815. He was the historical engraver to England's King George III. Holbein's exquisite detail and realistic style of rendering his subjects are evident in these fine examples.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next we see the work "Last Dying Speech and Confession" by the English printmaker Thomas Rowland. This is an etching done with aquatint and then colored by hand. The image is of a woman announcing to the crowd the confessions of those criminals executed earlier that day.

What portraits were to the 18th century, landscapes were to the 19th — and would mark major transformations in the art world, along with the rise of Impressionism in Europe and the westward expansion in the United States. The next images and sculptures we'll experience reflect the geography and peoples of different countries, prior to the cultural integration brought on in the late 1800s by the camera, which revolutionized image-making.

Since 2007, the iPhone has continued to evolve through more than two dozen iterations, each one building on the last. In the digital era, this device — and others like it — have kept people connected on a global scale and have helped cultivate social media influencers and images to be shared by a small machine held in the palms of our hands.

Landscape painting in the 19th century would go through its own visual development and enhancements, each one building on the last. Examples would be the Hudson River School, which defined Romanticism, and the Barbizon School, which favored Realism. Tonalism, the Hague School and Impressionism were all spin-offs. While the images created were not as easily accessible as the photos on today’s mobile devices, their influence in defining cultural and social identity with specific places and styles was just as powerful.

At the top of the sidewall is the work of Dutch painter and member of the Hague School, Anton Mauve. His painting "Sheep Coming Home" is a classic example of his work. His subjects of shepherds and sheep coming and going would often play out in his works, which were influenced by his own life and surroundings in rural Holland. The price of one of his paintings was often determined by the direction in which the sheep were headed.

Here's a fun fact: Vincent van Gogh was a student of Mauve's in the winter of 1882 and admired him as a great interpreter of the fine, gray Dutch countryside.

Sheep made for popular models, and the painting below Mauve’s is titled "Sheep in a Pasture" by John Austin Sands Monks. Monks was a prolific printmaker and painter in the Barbizon style and studied under George Inness. He lived mainly in New York and Boston, and his works were exhibited widely in both places.

The next three pieces, from the top down, are Eugène Fromentin's "Arab Horsemen," Léon-Victor Dupré's "Woodland Pasture," and "Autumn Landscape" by Monks’ teacher, George Inness.

Eugène Fromentin was a Barbizon painter who incorporated the land and peoples of Algeria into his works. Also a writer, Fromentin used his knowledge and personal experience as an artist to critique master painters in his publication Les Maîtres d'autrefois (Masters of the Past). Through his extensive travel, painting and writings, he developed a reputation as an Orientalist — an artist who specializes in depicting scenes and characters of the Middle East and Asia.

Léon-Victor Dupré's work "Woodland Pasture" is also of the Barbizon School style, which favored art drawn from real life, such as the scenery in this painting. Dupré was known for his use of light and color and exhibited at the Paris Salon for nearly 40 years, while studying under his brother, the painter Jules Dupré.

George Inness, the painter of "Autumn Landscape," was mostly self-taught. He was inspired by the artists and techniques of the Barbizon School and became the leading American artist-philosopher of his generation. He believed in a divine connection within nature, which was reflected in the tones and light of his paintings. This landscape is the first of two works by Inness in our exhibit.

Here's a fun fact: According to the Smithsonian American Art Museum, Inness knew from a young age that he wanted to be an artist. His family, however, had other ideas, and when George was a teenager, his father bought him a grocery store. The future artist was determined not to be a grocer and spent most of his time in the store painting, hiding under the counter whenever customers appeared.

In our next work, "Two Girls with a Dog," the pair and their companion are portrayed in an honest and natural context without embellishment. Notice the simple clothing and bare feet of the children as they go about their everyday lives, with the simple rural landscape all around them. It's a truthful moment, captured in time.

The artist, Jean-Pierre Alexandre Antigna, who lived until 1878, painted in the Realist style, producing works reflective of his experiences living among the working-class poor.

Now let's look at "Longhorns of the Highlands," which beautifully captures a bucolic Scottish setting — a slow-paced day in the life of a country herd. The artist, Louis Bosworth Hurt, studied with George Turner, and his subjects were predominantly cattle — often the ones owned by Louis and his wife, Harriet.

Charles-François Daubigny’s painting on the River Seine, at the top of the next trio of works, may have been created from his riverboat Botin, which translates as "loot" or "booty." He used his boat to capture landscapes while traveling the Seine and the Oise rivers. His Barbizon painting technique and special water transport would catch the eye of the Impressionists. He was a contemporary and friend of another open-air artist, the renowned painter Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot.

"Landscape" is the first of two pieces in our exhibit by J. Francis Murphy. Like his contemporary George Inness, Murphy was self-taught, and his stylized landscapes would change over his career — from Barbizon-influenced mood and shadow to Tonalism, using a limited palette and complementary colors to evoke atmospheric harmony.

If we examine the surface of the painting, we notice the texture, giving movement and character to the clouds. This is one of the techniques Murphy used to alter the world of landscape painting.

Now we see a sculpture. George Gordon, Lord Byron, wrote, “I am such a strange mélange of good and evil that it would be difficult to describe me.” By all accounts, Byron was a true global influencer of his time. Handsome, well-educated, athletic, widely traveled, highly political, fluent in four languages and fashionable, he became one of the most acclaimed of the English Romantic poets.

Byron mania enveloped his increasing worldwide celebrity following the publication in 1812 of "Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage," Byron’s poetic journal of his three-year tour in the Mediterranean and the East. Five hundred copies, priced at 30 shillings each, sold out in three days — impressive numbers for a book of poetry at the time. In all, Byron would go on to write more than 400 poems, including "Manfred," "Don Juan" and "She Walks in Beauty," inspiring composers, other writers and artists such as Bennett, Liszt, Schumann, Verdi, Berlioz, Donizetti, Tchaikovsky, Turner, Delacroix, Poe, Wordsworth, Milton and David Bowie.

Born with a club foot, Byron fought weight issues throughout his short life and may have suffered from bulimia. Thought to have been bisexual, he married once for a brief time, fathering three children among his wife and other partners — including his half sister — and was eventually exiled from England.

He would die in Greece at the age of 36 while fighting in their war for independence. A common medical treatment of the time, bloodletting, may have contributed to his death. Beloved by the Greeks, his heart would literally remain there, with the rest of him buried in Nottinghamshire after he was denied burial at Westminster Abbey.

Take time to examine the features of this bust of Byron. What of his life can you see in his face?

Here’s a fun fact: It was a dark and stormy night, and the wind was howling, and somebody said, “Let’s write ghost stories.” What transpired that night at the Villa Diodati in 1816 would result in a horror double feature — with Byron writing a fragment of a ghost story that inspired fellow poet John William Polidori to write the first bloodsucking iteration of "The Vampyre," while another guest, Mary Shelley, wrote the beginnings of her classic "Frankenstein."

Here’s another fun fact: Copies of Byron’s "Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage" sold in 1812 for 30 shillings apiece. In 1812, 30 shillings had the buying power of almost $1,000 in today’s money.

Moving on, we see the second George Inness painting in our exhibit, "Landscape Near Leeds, New York." Here, Inness depicts a rural scene, allowing his brushwork and use of light to create the mood of a natural setting. Like Murphy, Inness’s painting style progressed from Barbizon to Tonalism, and he intended for his work to combine both the earthly and the ethereal in order to capture the complete essence of a locale.

Here’s a fun fact: One of George Inness’s students was Louis Comfort Tiffany, son of the founder of Tiffany & Co. Louis was considered one of the greatest artists of his time, with his work encompassing painting, architecture, interiors, stained glass, mosaics, enamels and jewelry.

 

"Indian Figures in Landscape" is painted by Ralph Albert Blakelock. Like Inness and Murphy, Blakelock was a self-taught painter, but unlike his contemporaries, his approach to landscape was a more personal vision rather than an exact representation. Blakelock was influenced in his early work by the Hudson River School, but he too transitioned to Tonalism.

This work may have been painted on one of his solo journeys out West, when he lived with Native American tribes. A great painter but a poor businessman, Blakelock had difficulty supporting his wife, Cora, and their nine children. He struggled with mental illness and was institutionalized on and off throughout much of his life.

Frank Duveneck's "Boy in a Green Hat" is a wonderful example of how portraits transformed through the centuries. Compare Duveneck’s portrait painting with Aspertini’s portrait of Tadeo Taddei from the 16th century — two-dimensional versus three-dimensional depictions of the subjects, with Duveneck’s figure seeming to emerge from the deeply contrasting background.

Duveneck’s painting technique is bold and loose, fleshing out the boy’s face — not as linear and flat as in Aspertini. Today, this boy looks real.

Sunset is the second painting by J. Francis Murphy in our exhibit. It's a sublime landscape that holds your gaze and draws you in. In his biography of the painter, Eliot Clarke wrote, Murphy's technical manner and his pictorial conception never fitted him for filling large surfaces or executing monumental paintings. Content with a most simple life and environment, Murphy never sacrificed his artistic integrity. It was happy indeed that he could make his living by producing these little pictures of his fancy.

Now we come to three sculptures by John Rogers, who lived until 1904: "Fetching the Doctor," "Uncle Ned's School" and "Courtship in Sleepy Hollow." These are just three examples among the many plaster cast sculptures Rogers produced during his nearly 40-year career, which began in 1859.

After the Civil War, Rogers became known as the "People’s Sculptor," as thousands of pieces were produced from his molds. Most sold for a reasonable $15, making his art affordable for many people — not only the rich. Starting out as a grocer’s clerk and railroad mechanic, Rogers would go on to produce and sell more than 80,000 copies of his casts.

Look closely at the detail in these three pieces. Feel the speed of the horse carrying the anxious riders as they rush to fetch the doctor in "Fetching the Doctor" and "Uncle Ned’s School." The young woman’s finger rests patiently on the book as he mouths the words — but who’s doing the teaching? Notice the young boy under Ned’s foot, appearing to disrupt the session with a tickle. Observe the sweet courtship conversation taking place on a young woman’s porch or in her parlor in "Courtship in Sleepy Hollow."

Rogers’ subjects were pure Americana — encapsulating recognizable everyday life and pointing the way toward another American artist of the next generation: painter and illustrator Norman Rockwell.

Here’s a fun fact: Both Abraham Lincoln and General George Armstrong Custer owned sculptures by John Rogers.

Next we see the work of the prolific Barbizon-style painter Jean-François Millet. This work, titled "The Shepherdess," highlights Millet’s technique of examining and portraying nature in a real place and time. Rural life was a strong inspiration for Millet, who was raised in a family of farmers.

Millet’s work would also influence an admirer, Vincent van Gogh, whose own images would earn him the moniker "The Peasant Painter."

Henri Harpignies, who lived until 1916, fell under the spell of the Eternal City early on in his training. As the saying goes, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” And he did — traveling, living and painting in Italy for much of his life.

Harpignies’ work was influenced by his friend and fellow painter Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot. They shared the belief that classical training in landscape painting was essential, and Italy was the place to do it.

This particular painting, "The Homestead," is a lovely representation of Harpignies’ style and technique, which prompted Anatole France to nickname him "the Michelangelo of Trees." Almost blind in his elder years, Harpignies continued to paint right up until his death at age 97.

Stanislav Victor Edouard Lépine also studied with Corot, and his green and gold landscape is a beautiful blend of classical style with pre-Impressionist leanings. There's movement throughout the painting — the sway of the trees and the corn, with the figures going about their way in the field, perhaps picking berries or something else from the garden.

The composition, color and textures are mesmerizing, and the image brings to mind the Impressionist painter Claude Monet’s painting "The Poppy Field Near Argenteuil." Lépine wouldn’t become as famous as the Impressionists, but his work inspired them, and he was included in their 1874 exhibition.

Our next work is one of the most beloved paintings in St. Bonaventure University’s collection: "Morning After the Snow" by William Bliss Baker. Prior to its relocation here in the Beltz Gallery, the painting called the Friedsam Memorial Library home, where it was enjoyed by faculty, students, staff and visitors over many years.

The work is in the Realism style, and if we look closely, Baker’s detailed handling of the landscape is captivating. We see the light glistening on the snow, and we can almost feel the cold chill of the early morning and hear the crispy crunch of the icy surface underfoot.

Baker was a young man when he completed this painting, with a promising career ahead. Sadly, he died in a skating accident at the age of 27, having already completed 130 works.

If Pierre Denis Bergeret’s still life "Oysters and Shrimp" looks similar to other realistic, food-related portraits from artists such as Eugène Isabey, Jules Lefebvre and Léon Bonnat, it may be because he studied with them. Think of Bergeret’s composed classical still life as a foodie Instagram of the 19th century.

Bergeret died at 64, and his painting production was not as extensive as others — making this piece in the St. Bonaventure University collection that much more special.

What better place to create Impressionistic paintings than where the movement began — the French village of Giverny, where master Claude Monet had his home, studio and private gardens?

Theodore Robinson spent time there between 1887 and 1892. He became a friend of Monet’s and painted this farm scene near Giverny. It’s a beautiful, lush, painterly piece — far different from Jan Victor’s 17th-century "Gypsy Fortune Teller."

Robinson’s use of light, color and implied lines is open and fresh, depicting a specific moment in time, much like a digital photograph of today — Photoshopped using a filter or a background on a Zoom meeting that’s been blurred out and viewed in an altered state.

Robinson would leave an impressive portfolio when he died in 1896 at the young age of 44.

A distant cousin of Jean-François Millet, American painter Francis Davis Millet was a true Renaissance man. A Harvard graduate, newspaper editor and war correspondent, he established the school of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and was a leading figure in the American Academy in Rome, Italy. Widely traveled and exhibited, Millet was a friend of fellow American artist John Singer Sargent, known as a classical painter.

Here, in his painting "The Well-known Footstep," we can experience the elegance of his style.

On April 15, 1912, Millet would perish in the dark waters of the North Atlantic as a passenger on the RMS Titanic.

Here’s a fun fact: Millet enlisted in the Union Army during the Civil War and served as a drummer in the 60th Massachusetts Militia. Later, none other than Mark Twain served as best man at Millet’s Paris wedding.

"Clang, clang, clang went the trolley. Ding, ding, ding went the bell. Zing, zing, zing went my heartstrings. From the moment I saw him, I fell."

Those lyrics, written by Ralph Blane and Hugh Martin and sung by Judy Garland in the 1944 film "Meet Me in St. Louis," spring to mind as we view Ernest Lawson’s 20th-century painting "Chatham Square."

The visual kinetic energy of this piece has it so teeming with life, you can feel the action vibrating right out of the frame. The use of color, form, shapes and linear enhancements captures the pulse of the city — as you imagine the train rumbling down the tracks, the cars darting in and out, and the movement of the people and clouds.

Impressionist painter Lillian Mathilde Genth gained wide acclaim at the beginning of her career for her female nude portraits. This work, "Two Women in an Interior," is a strong example of Genth’s progression.

A solo traveler — unconventional for a woman of her time — Genth visited Europe, Africa and Asia, painting as she went. Exquisite works such as this were the result. Notice the implied lines of paint giving form and texture to the scene, the two women’s intimate conversation seemingly interrupted, as if they were turning to acknowledge another entering their space.

Perhaps it’s a generational family portrait of mother and daughter, with the elder grandmother seated and reading in the garden. The light and brushstrokes flesh out an everyday scene in the Impressionist style — a Facebook moment of the age.

Arthur B. Davies started his life in Utica, New York, and ended it in Florence, Italy. The years in between were filled with producing mystical paintings such as "This Italian Landscape."

Davies’ works were displayed in many exhibits, including the famed 1913 New York City Armory Show. He was a member of the Eight, a group of American artists who would make their mark on the 20th century. Davies also amassed a personal contemporary art collection of more than 500 significant works.

He maintained two residences to hide a 25-year relationship with one of his models and their child, using the alias Mr. and Mrs. David Owen — a feat that would prove difficult in today’s digital, social media–crazed, security-camera world.

Here’s a fun fact: Davies studied phrenology, the once-popular pseudoscience of the contours of the human head, and always maintained that a small bump on the back of his skull was a sign of his creative nature.

 

There are strong echoes of Degas in Everett Shinn’s painting "The Actor." The loose, Impressionistic quality of the figure against a theatrical background — New York and the elements of the city — would loom large in Shinn’s work.

He would wear numerous hats as an artist, newspaperman, illustrator, theatrical set painter, muralist and motion picture art director. Along with Arthur B. Davies, Shinn was a member of the Eight and was there through the group’s evolution into the Ashcan School, whose revolutionary intent was art for life’s sake rather than art for art’s sake.

Canadian American artist Eleanor Douglas was called America’s foremost woman landscape painter, and this ethereal work, "Sunset," is a clear illustration of her power to capture the serene beauty and light at day’s end.

According to New York art curator Forrest Cheney, “The striking characteristics of Miss Douglas’s work consist of the potency of its individuality and her remarkable portraits of the silent monarchs of the woods, whose voiceless stories few artists have been able to relate, either by pen or the master stroke of the brush.” Her work shows a strong, vivid realism that carries one back to the Barbizon School, combined with an idealism that makes her canvases more than a mere trapping of beautiful moods of nature and fixing them in color.

Here’s a fun fact: Eleanor Douglas lived with her large family on the Ojibwe Indian Reservation, where she received the name Shapinsay in the Anishinaabe language, which translates as Laughing Girl.

Here’s another fun fact: Later in her life, Eleanor Douglas moved just up the road from here to East Aurora, New York, where she joined Elbert Hubbard’s Roycroft community of artists and craftspeople.

One of the most revered and reproduced images in art history is, by far, the Annunciation — the moment, according to the scriptures, that Mary learns she has been chosen by God to be the mother of his son, Jesus.

Traditionally, the Annunciation can be easy to recognize, with different artists using consistent symbolism: the Angel Gabriel on one knee and in profile, with Mary positioned directly across from him — often with a book in her hand or on her lap. Landscapes, gardens or architectural elements surround the figures, each illustrating different theories about their interaction.

"And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city in Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David.
And the virgin's name was Mary.
And the angel came unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women."

The multitude of artists who have created their own versions of the Annunciation — from the Renaissance through the 20th century — include Fra Angelico, Joos van Cleve, El Greco, François Lemoyne, Henry Ossawa Tanner and Andy Warhol.

Here, a luminous 20th-century version of the Annunciation by the Austrian artist Georg Kuh takes an entirely novel approach. The figures are cropped, as if seen through a telephoto lens, with the Angel Gabriel holding a single lily — a symbol of purity, innocence and resurrection. He’s positioned behind Mary, who is looking directly outside the space.

Let’s study Mary’s expression. What does it reveal in this intensely intimate moment? Is Mary aware that Gabriel is behind her? Has she just felt his presence? Is she about to turn to engage him as Gabriel shares the message that will forever change her life? Has she turned away to catch her breath and process the news? Or has she accepted her fate and said, “May it be done to me according to your word”?

What better piece than Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones’s "The Crucifixion" to end our exhibit? This painting brings our exhibit full circle. We began with Fra Angelico’s "Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints," which included a crucifixion placed flatly above the main figures for symbolic purposes.

Here, Sir Edward’s painting transforms the subject into an actual event, with the Roman centurion poised to pierce Christ’s side as Saint John and the women who stood by him surround the base of the cross. Compare the two pieces — the first, an iconic version created solely as a religious devotional instrument; the second, a fully fleshed-out portrait depicting Christ’s last moments.

Among the sorrowful, disheartened faces, Fra Angelico used gold leaf for a flat background with a two-dimensional cross and figures. Sir Edward’s figures are three-dimensional, portraying the dark, somber tone of the moment, with additional figures and a distant landscape adding depth to the composition.

Two very different versions of the same subject — beautifully illustrating the art of storytelling from the 16th through the 20th centuries.

Here’s a fun fact: In addition to being a world-class painter, Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones was a tapestry designer. A friend of designer William Morris, their partnership was instrumental in beginning the Arts and Crafts movement throughout England.

All the paintings in this exhibit were created by human artists across their respective centuries and, through their stories, represent early forms of social media and engagement.

Consider this question: How might your interpretation of the works be different if the images had all been generated by artificial intelligence?

According to the University of Texas at Austin’s Center for Media Engagement, DALL·E is a machine learning model developed by research company OpenAI. The model allows users to render images from a description in natural language. Because it relies on information databases from web servers as reference points, the possibilities for illustrations are seemingly boundless.

DALL·E has the capability to learn and apply artistic styles — like Impressionist watercolor painting. Realistically, the limits of its potential depend on the creativity of its input phrases.

But are the results of DALL·E’s creations the work of human artists — or machines?