Bacchus and Ariadne, Titian
by Catherine Jamieson
First Prize, Years 12 & 13
This essay was written for the 2018 Write on Art prize, winning first place in the Year 12 & 13
Pink and blue are tentatively appearing, fresh and delicate, out of tea-coloured varnish. It is London, 1967, and the initial restoration tests are being carried out on Titian’s Bacchus and Ariadne. The colours are emerging from the layers of time like the bacchante emerging from the woods of Naxos: the nine patches,
Alphonso first looked at the finished painting, in the camerino of his Ferrarra residence, in 1523. It was only the second of the five paintings that he wanted, but he would have been relieved to have it completed after a three-year wait. He had already had an artist die before they could complete their
Titian was dependent on the knowledge of Alphonso and his Humanist advisors. They knew their Catallus and their Ovid, and they knew the story of how Ariadne was abandoned by her lover Theseus and then found by Bacchus, who fell in love with her at first glance and leapt off his chariot so the cheetahs that drew it would not frighten her. But Titian did something which only he could do: he captured the thrill of love; the moment of connection, of spontaneous emotional intimacy, when Bacchus’ heart stopped for a second, and Ariadne found her body turning instinctively towards him. Bacchus is leaping with a kind of clumsy elegance; his cloak pink against blue and his long hair catching the sunlight. He notices none of this, nor does he notice the raucousness around him. He is drawn to Ariadne like a magnet. She is turning, her arm is still raised in farewell to Theseus, with her mouth open and her gaze locked to Bacchus’. And they are swimming in colour.
Perhaps Alphonso is thinking about Catullus’ ekphrasis, which describes the marital bed coverlet of the hero Peleus and the sea goddess Thetis - a tapestry of this very scene. It does not matter that this tapestry did not exist in reality: it existed with luminous vivacity in the minds of the Ancients who read of it. Perhaps Alphonso imagines the painting as that tapestry, the brushstrokes as threads of light. In seeing the painting, he is like an Ancient seeing the tapestry in their mind’s eye as they read Catullus’ description. The painting is an ancient
Lucas, A., Plesters, J. 'Titian's "Bacchus and Ariadne"'. National Gallery Technical Bulletin Vol 2, pp 25–47.
Hope, Charles. (2004) ‘Titian: Catalogue of the National Gallery Exhibition 19 Feb-18 May 2003’ London: Chaucer Press.
Higgins, Charlotte. Sat 6 Oct 2007 ‘In Love’s Labyrinth’ The Guardian.
I went to Esher College in Surrey where I studied Art History, History and English Literature. I am going on to study Art History at university and hopefully pursue a career as an art historian. I am especially interested in 16th century Venice, the Dutch Golden Age and 19th century Paris - I did my Extended Project Qualification on the influence of Paris on Van Gogh’s Arles paintings. I love talking and writing about art and I post regularly on my Art History blog (see link below). I hope to make many more people interested in and engaged with art history.