ING: Light Diffusion

The power of a dress has been well acknowledged by pop culture, modern media, and even Victorian literature, but I would like to consider the power of a glowing, diffused dress that we see so commonly in the fine arts and Western canonical art history. Circe (Angelica Kauffman) was on my mind today, due to the Royal Academy's solo exhibition of the artist. Disregarding everything else in the painting (which is very difficult), the glowing dress is worth pondering due to its constant appearance-- a white/creamy white drape-style garment on a soft, equally creamy white body of a Classical or Christian female figure is a repeated depiction that we have become comfortable with. Considering the Tate Britain just completed an exhibition on Sargent, a leading figure of women in dresses with generous light diffusion, I would say it is definitely worth noticing as a Western standard of beauty and grace for women in power whether positive (the Virgin Mary) or negative (Circe).

Circe Enticing Ulysses. Angelica Kauffman, 1786. Oil on canvas. Wikimedia Commons.

A short though on the power of a glowing dress is the "aura" that is given to the wearer. I say this because no other term is as generously abstract yet quite accurate in describing why this visual trend captivates us so. For example, even a viewer who does not know the story of the titled heroine in Kauffman's painting would discern that the woman is the main character of this composition. She has an "aura," that intangible yet most discernible quality given to an unexplainable atmosphere demanding attention and even respect. In this case, the aura is lended strength through visual emphasis of all things feminine: her shoulder glows as it is hit by a gentle light, leading our eyes downwards towards a body that is depicted in such a gleaming and soft nature that it evokes nothing but a sense of a precious object encased in a protective casing. This is balanced by the hard metals and deep colors: a (assumedly) gold band on the left arm below a slightly glistening chain holding the garment together, all below a curling strand leading up to a visual field of rich, brown locks that contrast gracefully with the rest of her unpigmented body and persona (in the painted sense). All of these colours, textures, and sense amalgamate to throw us into an overwhelming plethora of emotions and desires-- the desire to touch the dress, touch the woman, be in the woman's presence, be with the woman, be the woman-- summarized, the aura is the central power in evoking attention, response, and interest from the viewer. And what else is the purpose of a painting is not to evoke attention, response, and interest from a viewer? Visual tools are most definitely a deciding factor in the success of a visual work. May this be a reminder of how art is not just art, but a product and a tool. And that is not a tragic thing.