Laura Cumming

“Life reproves the imagination: look closer.” So Cummings does. This is the story of her mother, who was inexplicably kidnapped from the beach, aged three, and safely recovered twelve days later. However, it's not a straightforward narrative, beginning at her birth and ending in her old age, and progressing through schooldays, marriage, adult life. For Betty (Laura Cummings' mother), life was something of a mystery, posing unanswered questions which Laura painstakingly unpicks, but not show more necessarily in date order. Her first point of reference is that adored mother Betty, and her own brief memoir. But there are the villagers from the community where Betty was brought up, and the secrets they kept. There are legal documents. There are photographs. And there is Laura's own willingness not to take what she finds out at face value. Her references to the work of artists whom she feels illuminate her story, either by referencing Betty's own home landscape, or by having something to say about the kind of community in which she lived - Brueghel's 'The Fall of Icarus' - are the jewels of this book, enriching and bringing colour to an already involving story. The passages examining Betty's father George's photographic portrait of her mother Veda are among the most memorable in the book.

Finally, Laura's recognition that people are nor simply heroes or villains (though her mother remains her hero) brings the book to a thought provoking conclusion. Baddies turn out to have their redeeming features. Goodies keep silent. Humans are complicated. This is a book that may stay with you once you have turned the last page. show less

Focusing on Dutch artist C. Fabritius and his painting A View of Delft with a Musical Instrument Seller’s Stall, painted in 1652, the author tells Fabritius’s story, her own, her father’s, Delftt, and other Dutch artists. In other words, it is an all-encompassing book about Dutch art history but always comes back to Fabritius. He was killed as a result of a “thunderclap” of an explosion of stored gunpowder near his house, but that killed many more. Fabritius’s life was cut very show more short and the author wonders what more he could have created. There’s an excellent examination of one of his most famous works, The Goldfinch. I really liked the audiobook—the author has a beautiful and calming voice—but you must have the ebook or real book so you can look at the artwork while listening to her. show less

[The Vanishing Velazquez] by [[Laura Cumming]]

[The Vanishing Velazquez] is a tribute to the 17th century Spanish artist, Diego Velazquez. Little is known about Velazquez except that he was the primary artist at the court of Philip IV and that he is revered by other artists for his realistic portraits and incredibly minimalist brushstroke and lack of reworking.

He is also revered by the author of this book, [[Laura Cumming]]. Her exuberance for his work jumps off every page and makes for an show more exciting and compelling reading experience. The story she has to tell is admittedly a little thin. She focuses on a portrait of Charles I that Velazquez supposedly did when Charles visited Spain before ascending the throne. There is enough evidence that this portrait was completed but it is lost track of until a bookseller and art lover, John Snare finds what he believes is the lost Velazquez portrait in 1845 at an estate sale. Cumming follows this story in an effort to unravel what was really happening with the benefit of modern research. Along the way she describes as much of Velazquez's life as is known and also analyzes his most famous works of art. Her descriptions of his art and his technique are very well done and I feel I learned a lot. I'd love to see some of these in person - the colored illustrations are beautiful but it would be amazing to see these in real life.

I thoroughly enjoyed this. Cumming's adoration is infectious and I couldn't put the book down. show less

This was absolutely maddening for the most part. I still have no idea what portrait John Snare found and became so obsessed with, or what actually happened to it, or if it even exists in any form. There are pictures of many of the Velazquez works discussed, which is good, but because neither the original nor any reproductions of the portrait are known to exist, there is no representation of the portrait that was the entire subject of the book. This author also seems to have never met a show more Velazquez she didn't like. I understand having a favorite artist, and a favorite piece (Las Meninas in this case) but this went way beyond that. Not that Velazquez wasn't a great artist (and I don't think that's really in dispute), but surely he must have had some artistic weaknesses, or perhaps a few portraits that just didn't turn out well. It almost looks like she's got an obsession of her own, both with Velazquez in general and with Las Meninas in particular. The book wasn't even supposed to be about Las Meninas, but she kept on talking about it in almost every chapter anyway. It was to the point that I think she should have just written a book about Las Meninas instead.

Loved the account of the trial(s), though, and it was easy to get caught up in John Snare's story. show less