An unknown masterpiece of visionary art-as daring as Blake or Goya, but utterly different-reproduced in full color, with a commentary by one of our most original art historians
Somewhere in Europe-we don’’t know where-around 1700. An artist is staring at something on the floor next to her worktable. It’’s just a log from the woodpile, stood on end. The soft, damp bark; the gently raised growth rings; the dark radial cracks-nothing could be more ordinary. But as the artist looks, and looks, colors begin to appear-shapes-even figures. She turns to a sheet of paper and begins to paint.
Today this anonymous artist’’s masterpiece is preserved in the University of Glasgow Library. It is a manuscript in a plain brown binding, whose entire contents, beyond a cryptic title page, are fifty-two small, round watercolor paintings based on the visions she saw in the ends of firewood logs.
This book reproduces the entire sequence of paintings in full color, together with a meditative commentary by the art historian James Elkins. Sometimes, he writes, we can glimpse the artist’’s sources-Baroque religious art, genre painting, mythology, alchemical manuscripts, emblem books, optical effects. But always she distorts her images, mixes them together, leaves them incomplete-always she rejects familiar stories and clear-cut meanings. In this daring refusal to make sense, Elkins sees an uncannily modern attitude of doubt and skepticism; he draws a portrait of the artist as an irremediably lonely, amazingly independent soul, inhabiting a distinct historical moment between the faded Renaissance and the overconfident Enlightenment.
What Heaven Looks Like is a rare event: an encounter between a truly perceptive historian of images, and a master conjurer of them.