Music for the Eyes

The Master of the André Madonna painted this work during a period of the Renaissance that witnessed sweeping changes in sacred music. After Des Prez and Issac, other composers like Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (ca. 1525/1526–1594) and Orlando di Lasso (1532–1594) perfected polyphony and adapted it to the spiritual and aesthetic principles adopted by the Council of Trent (1545–1563). These pieces sought to convey balance and beauty in order to praise God, but also to inspire and instruct the faithful. In The Virgin and the Child between Angels, this connection between music and spirituality is visually expressed in the underlying serenity and harmony of the musical angels, who seem to invite the viewer to participate in this heavenly concert.

Her musical attributes are suggested but not explicitly shown in this picture, whose connection with music relies more on the saint herself than on the presence of an instrument. In other works, such as Angels Playing Musical Instruments (ca. 1475–1497), Botticini explored the iconography of musical angels, depicting music as a form of celestial praise. 

In Francesco Botticini’s day, music was making the transition from Gregorian chant to Renaissance polyphony. Composers like Guillaume Dufay (1397–1474) and Johannes Ockeghem (ca. 1410–1497) wrote sacred music with complex vocal harmonies that reflected the spirituality of the times. Josquin des Prez (ca. 1450/1455–1521), known for his innovative polyphonic masses and motets, explored melodic expressiveness and harmonic complexity in his compositions, taking sacred music to a new level of sophistication. His Missa Pange lingua, based on plainsong, exemplifies how composers of that era adapted medieval melodies to a more modern polyphonic language. 

These novelties caused people to perceive music as a lofty, spiritual art form, in keeping with the same Renaissance ideals expressed in Botticini’s painting. His representation of Saint Cecilia in this work alludes to that musical context and the spirituality of liturgical songs.

Around 1650, when Jacob van Loo painted Group of Musicians, the leading composers in the Netherlands were Jan Pietersz. Sweelinck (1562–1621), Jacob van Eyck (ca. 1589/1590–1657) and Constantijn Huygens (1596–1687). Middle-class events might feature chamber music, folk songs about love and everyday life known as liedekens, or airs de cour, light and elegant songs that originated in France and later spread to the Low Countries 

Guests might also hear dances such as galliards, pavanes and passacaglias played on lutes, flutes or cellos. The presence of these instruments in Van Loo’s work implies an ambiance of refined enjoyment. The combination of chamber music and folk tunes in this social setting suggests that the musicians portrayed here may be performing a chamber version of a polyphonic work by a composer like Sweelinck, or a light-hearted dance or song meant to entertain and facilitate social interaction.

Crespi also included a harp, visible in the background, for an added touch of refinement that denotes the sitter’s elevated status. In fact, during the Renaissance and Baroque periods, music served for more than just entertainment: it was a tool of power and prestige for nobles and royalty, who saw this art form as a symbol of cultural sophistication. Wealthy patrons like Grati supported musicians and composers by providing financial and social assistance and backed workshops where promising young talents were trained. And they were often served by enslaved individuals like the one depicted here, a figure that attests to the importance of the transatlantic trade of young slaves in the 1700s. 

Arcangelo Corelli (1653–1713), Antonio Vivaldi (1678—1741) and Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683–1764) were all prominent Baroque composers at the time Grati sat for this portrait. They wrote sacred, chamber and operatic music that was ideally suited to the elegant private circles of the aristocracy. Some of the most popular pieces were da capo arias and Baroque cantatas, melodic vocal forms on romantic themes that dominated the music scene. Instrumental pieces like toccatas for harpsichord and preludes were also common, as were courtly dances such as the sarabande and minuet. All reflect the elegant, sophisticated music that symbolised the status and erudition of Baroque high society and which this work seems to recreate. Crespi was portraying the count as a man of high standing but also as a genuine music lover, in keeping with the cultural and aesthetic values of his era.

During the seventeenth century, music was part of everyday life in the Netherlands as a form of social expression and entertainment, and string instruments like the violin were commonly played at celebrations and social gatherings. Hals also portrayed musicians in works like Jester with a Lute (ca. 1623) and Two Singing Boys with a Lute and a Music Book (ca. 1624), capturing Dutch society’s love of music and merrymaking. Such scenes do not just show that music was present in daily life; they also reveal a penchant for spontaneity and folk culture. Such aspects were important to Hals, who portrayed the poor and downtrodden with dignity in his paintings. 

The influence of the Utrecht Caravaggisti, painters who explored genre scenes in a dramatic, realistic style, is apparent in this portrait of a fisherman with his violin. The emphasis on scenes of everyday life, in contrast to the predominance of religious and mythological themes in other countries, reflects the Dutch school's preference for secular, unsophisticated motifs, especially after the Reformation. The grinning, carefree fiddler defies the stigma of poverty with his jollity and liveliness, suggesting a subtle criticism of rigid social structures. It feels like the artist wanted to remind us that, despite differences of class, we share a humanity that overcomes economic barriers.

For the European courts of the 1600s, music was a symbol of status and sophistication dominated by the Baroque polyphonic compositions of men like Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643) and Jean-Baptiste Lully (1632–1687), who wrote madrigals, operas and instrumental suites performed by specialised ensembles. In contrast, Le Nain’s depiction of The Young Musicians is suggestive of the outdoor gatherings, fairs and feast days that broke the monotony of daily life in the country. Folk melodies remained popular among the lower classes and were passed down from generation to generation. Simple instruments like the rebec (a bowed string instrument) and tambourine (percussion) were used to play a mixture of folk dances and narrative songs that recounted local lore. As they were accessible even to people of limited means, these instruments allowed all members of the community to participate in music-making, thereby fostering a sense of belonging and carrying on traditions. 

Le Nain gave his figures a serene dignity, emphasising their humanity and the universal nature of his message. The children’s serious, thoughtful expressions indicate that they are absorbed in the act of playing, portraying music as an expressive outlet and means of forging a spiritual connection. In this work, the children are not just the painter’s subjects but carriers of a living tradition, a reminder of the democratising power of music in the seventeenth century. Narrative songs and folk dances were entertaining, but they also conveyed shared memories, values and stories, strengthening the community's sense of identity and reinforcing affective bonds among its members.

In the late eighteenth century, British and Indian musical traditions could hardly have been more different. Indian music was based on a system of ragas and talas, which structured improvisation and rhythmic cycles, and both the Hindustani music of the north and the Carnatic music of the south had strong spiritual and ritual significance. While the Indian figures in this scene were probably performing devotional or courtly pieces, back in the Impey family’s native England, people were listening to composers like William Croft (1678–1727), Thomas Arne (1710–1778) and William Boyce (1711–1779), who wrote sacred and chamber pieces for the British nobility and upper classes. The British music of this era was all about harmony and form, in stark contrast to the improvisation and freedom of contemporaneous Indian music. Their styles and sensibilities differed radically. 

Even so, this scene reflects the British fascination with the “exotic” Indian subcontinent and the interaction between these two cultures in the context of colonial expansion. Zoffany’s detailed depiction of this musical gathering appears to offer a critical perspective on the colonial view; India’s artistic riches are presented with a blend of admiration and detachment, illustrating the friction and overlap between the two worlds.

Ballet, inextricably linked to music, was a bridge between the sensibilities of bourgeois audiences and the contemporary compositions that defined the cultural life of the modern era. The majestic operas of Guiseppe Verdi (1813–1901) and grand productions of Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791–1864) were performed on the same stage as Léo Delibes’s (1836–1891) delicate compositions, like Coppélia (1870) and Sylvia (1876). Degas’s close friend Charles Gounod wrote Faust, one of the most popular operas of that era and a favourite with the painter. Thanks to all these works staged at the Opéra de Paris, the atmosphere was steeped in a conversation between music and movement that Degas successfully captured in his art. 

Around the same time, other artists like Édouard Manet (1832–1883) were also exploring the relationship between music and society. But Degas’s eye saw farther and deeper, focusing on the dancers’ daily lives and physical exertions and distancing himself from Romantic idealisation. Other compositions like The Orchestra at the Opera (ca. 1870) and The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage (1974) are in dialogue with the Swaying Dancer, evidencing the artist’s interest in the backstage world and music as the invisible catalyst of movement. In this pastel work, Degas transcended the exclusively visible plane, turning the ballet into a visual symphony where body, music and time become one for a fleeting instant.

Music was part of his home and social life, as he regularly performed at community gatherings and church celebrations. 

At the time when John Frederick Peto painted Books, Mug, Pipe and Violin, around 1880, European music was defined by the emotional expressiveness of chamber pieces and intimate compositions. Johannes Brahms (1833–1897), with his violin and piano sonatas (1879/1888), and Antonin Dvořák (1841–1904), particularly in the Dumky Trio (1891) and Slavic Dances (1878/1886), were exploring an intensely lyrical, nostalgic melodic language. Meanwhile, composers like Edvard Grieg (1843–1907) and Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921) also excelled with their works for violin and small ensembles that sought to convey personal emotions through music. 

This tendency to focus on expression and explore sound as a vehicle for emotions ties in with the presence of the violin in Peto’s work, which alludes to the fact that people often practised music in their homes at the time, as well as to the idea of music as a reflection of the passage of time and introspection. The violin, popular with the working classes but also heard in aristocratic circles, reinforces the connection between the artist’s private experience and the aesthetic ideals of late Romanticism, when the musical and visual arts shared a sentiment of melancholy and contemplation.

In those years, French music was undergoing a transformation. Composers like Erik Satie (1866–1925), with his Gymnopédies (1888), and Claude Debussy (1862–1918), with works like Clair de Lune (1905), were breaking away from traditional music to explore new harmonies and moods, which in turn were influencing other cultural expressions of that time. Meanwhile, the Moulin Rouge and Le Chat Noir were the epicentres of a more direct and less sophisticated style, where artists like Aristide Bruant (1851–1925) combined cheeky lyrics and catchy melodies to engage audiences. Toulouse-Lautrec, a regular at these cabarets, masterfully captured that ambiance in his work, displaying a particular affinity for the rhythms, gestures and theatricality of show business. 

But Lautrec’s ties to music went deeper than mere observation. An amateur musician himself, he understood rhythm and cadence and carried that knowledge over to his dynamic lines and the composition of his posters and portraits. Divan Japonais (1892–1893) and other posters featuring the dancer Jane Avril (1868–1943) exemplify how he translated the energy and motion of the stage into the language of painting, associating the emotions of music with visual forms. 

Unlike Degas (1834–1917), who explored the graceful movements of the dancing human figure, Lautrec offered a rawer, more human vision of the artistic world. In Yvette Guilbert, the vedette’s haughtiness is mixed with an air of fragility, reflecting the glamour of success as well as the exhaustion that comes with it. This portrait does not just celebrate one of Lautrec’s most striking muses; it also perfectly encapsulates the musical and cultural spirit of a Paris that was constantly reinventing itself.

The music scene in early twentieth-century Paris was no less innovative than its pictorial counterpart. Braque’s friend Erik Satie (1866-1925), Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971), whose revolutionary music defined the modern spirit, and members of the Les Six group, such as Arthur Honegger (1892-1955), Darius Milhaud (1892-1974) and Francis Poulenc (1899-1963), explored new forms and tonalities that broke with academic tradition. Their compositions engaged in a dialogue with Cubism’s signature fragmentation and dynamic energy. Here the mandolin alludes to European musical tradition, but it is also associated with folk music and, as such, symbolises the union of low and high culture that Braque and Picasso practised by incorporating papiers collés and collages in their paintings. 

By his own account, Braque painted so many musical instruments during this period for two reasons: “first of all because I was surrounded by them, and also because their forms, their volume, came into the ken of the still life as I understood it.” For him, these objects had a unique appeal because they came to life when played, which tied in directly with his quest for a tactile or, as he preferred to call it, “manual” space. That fascination with the relationship between form and musicality is patent in Woman with a Mandolin, where the geometrised shapes created a visual rhythm evocative of counterpoint, a technique that Braque particularly admired in the compositions of Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750). The cool, muted colours underscore the introspective, harmonious quality of the scene, while the broken lines subtly suggest echoes and acoustic reverberations.

Inspired by trends like Cubism and Expressionism, Hartley created an abstract composition that recalls the rhythm and harmony of a musical fugue. This work was made in the midst of a musical revolution led by Claude Debussy (1862–1918), Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951), Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) and other composers, whose defiance of tonal conventions and exploration of new forms of acoustic expression influenced visual artists looking for similarities between music and painting. 

Hartley described his approach as a “subliminal or cosmic Cubism” that went beyond mere representation, seeking to trigger an emotional and spiritual response in viewers. The geometric shapes and lines of this painting resemble a musical score, with rhythmically interwoven fragments of colour reminiscent of the intricacies of a fugue. This idea is similar to Wassily Kandinsky’s theory of synaesthesia, set out in Concerning the Spiritual in Art (1911), which posited that music and painting could elicit profound multi-sensory experiences. 

Far from being limited to this work, Hartley’s relationship with music was a recurring motif throughout his career. From his early Maine landscapes titled Songs of Autumn and Songs of Winter (ca. 1908–1909) to his work in Paris and Berlin, including Musical Theme (Oriental Symphony) from 1913, the artist consistently sought a visual language that could convey the structure and dynamic quality of music. In a letter sent to Stieglitz in 1912, he wrote, “It's a new theme I'm working on—did you ever hear of anyone trying to paint music?” His research on the subject eventually culminated in this work, where he wrote “BACH / PRELUDES ET FUGUES” near the bottom as a tribute to Baroque music and record of his attempt to translate the mysticism and structure of Bach’s compositions into a visual language.

His abstract forms, inspired by his study of theosophy and his synaesthetic theory, translated sound and musical rhythm into the language of painting. 

Kandinsky's relationship with music went beyond his choice of theme, for the very structure of his compositions was profoundly influenced by music. Just as Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750) arranged his fugues with mathematical precision, so Kandinsky tried to create paintings that reflected an internal order. According to his principle of “inner necessity”, he believed that art, like music, should spring from the artist’s spiritual essence, not merely imitate a visible reality, and elaborated on this idea in texts like Concerning the Spiritual in Art (1911) and Point and Line to Plane (1928). In Picture with Three Spots, the forms, the bold colours and the contrasts between them suggest the spontaneous complexity of music, recalling the atonal works of Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951) who, like Kandinsky with his abstract visual language, departed from conventional musical structures to explore new forms of expression.

 In the early twentieth century, music, like the visual arts, was undergoing a transformation as Claude Debussy (1862–1918), Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) and other composers pushed the established boundaries of tonality, rhythm and harmony in a highly innovative way. Stravinsky's polyrhythm and Schoenberg’s twelve-tone method were being developed at the same time as Kandinsky was exploring a pictorial abstraction that challenged classical forms. These experiments in music and art defied logic, embracing chaos and harmony to capture the complexity of the modern era and its quest for spiritual expression. Kandinsky’s close friendship with Schoenberg and admiration for the emotional depth of music cemented his conviction that art was an ideal vehicle for spiritual awakening; he thought of his paintings as “compositions” capable of resonating with the viewer.

The structure of Bach’s compositions influenced Feininger’s painting, in which he incorporated the concepts of repetition, variation and symmetry. In 1921, Feininger composed his Fugue in E-flat minor, a piece that perfectly sums up his interest in the precision and logic of musical counterpoint, something also apparent in his pictorial work. The German-American painter sought to unify musical and visual principles in works capable of offering spectators a multi-sensory experience. 

Feininger’s association with the Bauhaus, where he began teaching in 1919, strengthened this bond between art and music. Music played a relevant role in the Bauhaus movement; some of its leading exponents, like Paul Klee (1879–1940) and Kandinsky (1866–1944), explored the idea of synaesthesia and developed theories on the interaction of sound and colour. The contemporary music of Feininger’s time also influenced his art, particularly the compositions of Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951), who explored atonality and unconventional structures in a departure from academic music. This experimentation with musical norms was echoed in the artist’s abstract paintings and his desire to capture the rhythmic essence of the modern world. The Lady in Mauve, like other works by Feininger, reflects this investigation of forms and colours that move and interact like notes in a score, giving the viewer a simultaneously contemplative and musical experience.

Even so, he did manage to have some of his compositions performed in Belgium, including La Gamme d’amour, a pantomime-ballet that premiered at Ostend in 1911, and Poppenliefde, first staged at the Royal Flemish Opera in Antwerp in 1924. 

European music made the transition from Romanticism to modernism during Ensor’s lifetime. While Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) and Richard Wagner (1813–1883) were exploring profound emotions and innovative settings, composers like Claude Debussy (1862–1918) and Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) were spearheading the musical Impressionist movement, whose ultimate aim was to evoke sensations and colours rather than tell traditional narratives. These movements in music had much in common with Symbolism and Expressionism in painting, aligning with Ensor’s dark, satirical style. 

In the early twentieth century, Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951), Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) and other composers began to flout the rules of tonality, venturing into dissonance and atonality, while cabaret and popular music made inroads in European cities. Inspired by the carnivals and traditions of his hometown, Ensor integrated that blend of the festive and the grotesque in his work, echoing the band music and popular tunes of the day. Although Jardin d’amour seems far removed from the macabre tone of other works by this artist, its air of melancholic reverie appears to attenuate the scene’s festiveness, recalling Ensor’s love of theatre and fantasy. In general, the art and music of this era shared an inclination towards experimentation and social criticism, accurately reflecting a time of creative transformation.

Dove had a habit of listening to music while he painted, and his interest in jazz led him to experiment with creating works that incorporated its rhythms and harmonies. Synaesthesia, or the interaction of the senses, was central to his approach, for he believed that certain combinations of forms, colours and lines could elicit emotional responses similar to those produced by music. The influence of artists like Kandinsky (1866–1944), who also explored synaesthesia, strengthened Dove’s determination to capture the essence of music on canvas. With zigzagging brushstrokes and warm colours, Dove depicted the ephemeral nature of music, letting his pictures vibrate to their own visual rhythm. 

In addition to translating the colours and sounds of Berlin’s song, Orange Grove in California clearly illustrates Dove’s relationship with the musical culture of his day. Irving Berlin (1888–1989), a famous American musician of that time, wrote songs that were the very essence of jazz and pop culture. In an essay titled “Toujours Jazz”, the critic Gilbert Seldes declared, “[Jazz] is the symbol, or the byword, for a great many elements in the spirit of the time—as far as America is concerned it is actually our characteristic expression. It is the normal development of our resources, the expected, and wonderful, arrival of America at a point of creative intensity.” Motivated by the notion of “music for the eyes”, Dove transformed jazz improvisations and the vitality of music into shapes and colours that seem to move and resonate.

Shahn lived in an era of major musical developments, from the rise of jazz and blues in the early twentieth century to the birth of rock ‘n’ roll in the 1950s. Jazz, invented in New Orleans and popularised by figures like Duke Ellington (1899–1974) and Louis Armstrong (1901–1971), became a symbol of freedom and a form of escapism. During the Great Depression, big-band swing music provided entertainment for people desperate to feel some happiness and a sense of normalcy. Meanwhile, the blues reflected the struggles and pain of African American communities in the South, with artists like Bessie Smith (1894–1937) and Robert Johnson (1911–1938) giving voice to experiences of exclusion and suffering. This combination of genres fuelled a music culture that was not just a new cultural manifestation but also a way of expressing the social realities of an era. 

As the United States moved into the 1940s, rhythm & blues and gospel music paved the way for the advent of rock ‘n’ roll, a cultural explosion led by Chuck Berry (1926–2017), Little Richard (1932–2020) and other artists whose novel electric guitar sounds helped to tear down racial barriers. In this context, Shahn understood music as an outlet for popular and social expression, especially among the working classes and underprivileged communities. In a lecture titled “On Nonconformity”, delivered at Harvard in 1957, Shahn advocated nonconformity as the basis of artistic and social change, a position that also informed his pictorial themes and his view of society.

This affinity between two forms of cultural expression was not a coincidence. De Staël moved in the same creative circles as Sonia Delaunay (1885–1979) and Alberto Magnelli (1888–1971), artists who also explored the connection between visual rhythm and sound, and counted avant-garde musicians among his friends. Grey Composition is a significant example of post-World War II abstract Art Informel and a testament to the dialogue between the visual arts and contemporary music, whose languages, stripped of conventional narrative elements, strove to attain a pure, transcendent form of expression.

Tobey’s connection with the spiritual realm led his friend, the composer John Cage (1912–1992), to confess that the painter “had a great effect on my way of seeing, which is to say my involvement with painting, or my involvement with life even”. Cage actually dedicated a piece to him (25 Mesotics Re and Not Re Mark Tobey) in 1972, tacitly acknowledging the affinity between Tobey’s visual rhythms and his own musical compositions. In the same vein, the Russian sculptor and kinetic art pioneer Naum Gabo (1890–1977) claimed that Tobey’s painting was “nearer to music than anyone else’s in the field of abstract art”. 

In 1961, when Mark Tobey made Earth Rhythms, music was going through a stage of intense experimentation and transformation marked by the exploration of atonality, minimalism and the use of chance in composition. Composers like Cage, Pierre Boulez (1925–2016) and Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928–2007) wanted to break away from traditional musical structures; meanwhile, jazz was having its own revolution with the advent of free jazz, championed by John Coltrane (1926–1967) and Ornette Coleman (1930–2015), among others, who eschewed conventional harmonic arrangements in favour of free improvisation guided by feelings. These fresh approaches, inspired by the quest for innovative sounds, rhythmic exploration and expressive freedom, are echoed in Tobey’s abstract all-over painting. Every centimetre of the surface is significant in his work: his visual landscapes, seemingly in a constant state of flux, establish a visual rhythm much like that of a musical composition, as if every brushstroke were a note in a complex, absorbing symphony.

Gauguin had a profoundly personal relationship with music. As an amateur cellist, he understood the evocative power of melody and transferred it to his pictorial oeuvre. His exploration of harmony and rhythm in the use of colour and lines resonated with the musical innovations of his day, especially the musical Impressionism of Claude Debussy (1862–1918), who strove to overcome traditional structures and used different tones and sound dynamics to suggest sensations and moods. Debussy shared Gauguin’s fascination with symbols and the power of abstraction to connect with the spiritual and emotional. 

In the late 1800s, Paris was a hotbed of artistic innovation, where the Impressionistic music of Debussy and Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) interacted with Symbolist art and literature. Gauguin soaked up these influences and reinterpreted them in his own work, taking them even further during his time in Tahiti. There, although local musical traditions had already been tainted by colonisation, he found inspiration in native cultural expressions and worked them into his idealised conception of artistic authenticity and purity. 

In Mata Mua, Fatata te Miti and Arearea (all from 1892), Gauguin reiterated the importance of music as a bridge between the earthly and the transcendental, making it a central element of his compositions. These works are not just an homage to the cultural traditions he encountered in those distant lands; they also express the artist’s explicitly stated desire that painting, like music, might speak directly to the soul.

Fernand Léger (1881–1955), Piet Mondrian (1872–1944) and Kupka himself, among others, found inspiration in jazz, because its energy and rhythmic patterns seemed to accurately convey the rapid pace of city life and technological breakthroughs of that era. Jazz’s influence on the visual arts gave rise to abstract compositions brimming with dynamic energy and rhythm, where colours and forms seem to dance to the beat of this new music which represented a break with tradition. 

Kupka’s ties to music can be traced back to his first abstract works. For instance, Amorpha: Fugue in Two Colours (1912) is based on the musical structure of the fugue. Swayed by theosophical ideas, Kupka wanted to achieve an abstraction sonore or “sounding abstraction”, something between sight and hearing that would emotionally resonate with audiences, like a piece of music. 

František Kupka created Syncopated Accompaniment (staccato) as part of a series known as his “Machine Cycle”, made at a time when the artist was exploring a type of abstraction inspired by technology and mechanical energy. The word “staccato” in the title is a form of musical articulation in which each note is sharply detached or separated from the others—in other words, a fragmented rhythm. The composition translates this into geometric shapes and bright colours that seem to collide and rebound, creating a visual cadence much like the syncopated patterns of jazz. Kupka combined warm red and orange hues with mechanical shapes to suggest both the structure of jazz and the movements of the industrial machinery of his time. Echoes of the same interest can be detected in two earlier works from the Thyssen-Bornemisza collections: Study for the Language of Verticals, another Kupka composition from 1911, and The Disc, made by the French painter Fernand Léger in 1918.