#famous baroque art works

[madlori]

Hey how about some ART TALK

Art history is a bit of a hobby of mine. Last weekend I went to the Frick in Pittsburgh because they had a special exhibition we wanted to see, and in the gift shop I picked up a book that told the story of a series of acknowledged masterpieces. The first one in the book is Birth of Venus, the second is Mona Lisa, and the scream I scrumpt when I turned the page to see the third:

Let me tell you about Artemisia Fucking Gentileschi.

She was a 17th century painter and one of the first women to be admitted to a Florentian art society and is widely regarded as one of the finest of the Italian baroque painters. She was raised by her father, who was also a painter who studied Caravaggio, and early in her career she had to put up with people saying that her paintings surely must have been painted by her father (despite her father himself saying she was a peerless artist and super accomplished).

As a young woman she was raped by a colleague of her father's. Her father sued the rapist because he hadn't married her (THIS was the crime, not the rape itself, of course) and Artemisia was tortured with thumbscrews to verify her testimony. Some of the...ahem...feelings about this entire episode definitely come through in her work.

Contrary to how these stories usually go, Artemisia had a long and productive career, was well paid for her work, enjoyed the patronage of the Medici family, and traveled widely. History, however, has only recently come to appreciate her and name her among the great painters of the period.

Let's talk about THIS FUCKING PAINTING, though. Judith Beheading Holofernes. Probably her most famous work.

The story is one of Judith, a Jewish woman, who got the general of the army about to invade her city to come have dinner with her, got him drunk, and chopped his head off. Then she paraded his head out to the army, like a boss. It's been painted a number of times but this one...this one really brings the rage. Look at Judith, the strength in her arms, how she's got a look of steely concentration. If you look closely, you can see she has her knee up on the bed behind him to get more leverage. Her maidservant is helping hold him down. Neither of them look horrified or hesitant, they're ready to cut this motherfucker. (also that's definitely Artemisia as Judith. She put herself in a lot of her paintings)

It's an apt interpretation of the verse from the Book of Judith, which is admiringly succinct:

Her sandal ravished his eye, Her beauty made captive his soul, The sword passed through his neck. — Book of Judith, 16:9[7]

It's got a real "the tiger is out" energy, right?

Now let's look at the same scene, painted by Caravaggio, who was no slouch at painting, but...come on.

Judith looks like a scared teenager. She's holding him at arm's length as if that's gonna work. Her maid is a crone, lurking at her shoulder like Wormtongue. This does not, imho, compare to the power of Gentileschi's version.

Artemisia painted another image of Judith holding the severed head. And a lot of other paintings. I'm just thrilled to see this one in this book, as it's one of my favorites. We have one of her paintings here in Columbus and I always visit it when I go (when it's up, that is).

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Classical Period

The Classical Period of music - an era that lasted from approximately 1730 to 1820, although variations on it extended well into the middle of the 19th century.

Classical period composers and performers came from Europe, but it did not take long for the music to find its way to European colonies around the globe.

Many composers and musicians were based in the Austrian capital of Vienna, which was the musical center of Europe during the time period.

Musicologists and casual music fans use the general term "classical music" to describe the work of composers ranging from J.S. Bach to Igor Stravinsky to Philip Glass. The Classical period, though, is a specific era in music history that spanned much of the 18th and 19th centuries.

Characteristics of Classical Period Music

Important forms of the Classical period include the string quartet, opera (including opera buffa and opera seria), trio sonata, symphony (traditionally written in sonata form), string quartet, and solo concertos for a variety of instruments. These musical forms have several elements in common.

Simplicity: Compared to the Baroque period music that preceded it, Classical period music places greater emphasis on simplicity, tonal harmony, single-line melodies, and enlarged ensembles. Unlike the extravagant melodies and ornamentations of high Baroque music, the new style of music framed somewhat simple melodies and buttressed them with large ensembles. Melodies could be appropriated from folk music and arranged to produce musical development with various modulations in tonality, tempo, and dynamics. This trend would only expand during the Romantic period, which followed the Classical era.

Classicism: The beginning and middle of the eighteenth century showed a surge in a stylistic movement known as Classicism, whose adherents revered Classical antiquity, including the works of early fifth-century Greek artists and the architecture of Classical Greece. Admiration for the art of Classical antiquity manifested in the musical taste of the eighteenth-century Classical era. The standard musical forms that dominated the musical compositions of the Classical period aimed to embrace order, simplicity, strength, and a celebration of humanity—all of which aligned with a reverence for Classical Greece.

Increased accessibility: During the Classical period, many composers still worked in the courts of aristocrats, but public concerts were commonplace throughout Europe, which allowed members of the middle classes to partake in the musical forms. This made Classical era music somewhat more egalitarian than much of Baroque music, which was often presented as chamber music exclusively for upper-class audiences.

Instruments of the Classical Period

During the Classical period in music history, the piano overtook the harpsichord and organ as the primary keyboard instrument. Other musical instruments prominently featured in the new musical style included:

violin

viola

cello

double bass

flute

clarinet

oboe

bassoon

French horn

trumpet

trombone

timpani

Composers of the Classical Period

Vienna was the epicenter of European Classical music, and the composers who worked out of Vienna were sometimes referred to as members of the Viennese school.

Great composers of the Viennese school included Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Franz Joseph Haydn, Franz Schubert, and Ludwig van Beethoven, all of whom are foundational to the Classical period of music (although Beethoven's later works are commonly linked to the Romantic era).

Other famous composers of the period included Johann Christian Bach, Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach, Christoph Willibald Gluck, Antonio Salieri, and Muzio Clementi.

Classical era music followed the late Baroque period of music.

It maintained many styles of the Baroque tradition but placed new emphasis on elegance and simplicity (as opposed to Baroque music’s grandiosity and complexity) in both choral music and instrumental music.

It was followed by the Romantic period.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[rrrrinmaru]

picasso (marius x fem!reader) (nsfw)

wc: 5.7k rating: E warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, handjob, squirting, they're both freaks for each other

“I think it’s pretty,” you say plainly. “I like the look of it. I’ve always had a soft spot for ink wash works.”

The exhibit is held in a famous glass museum in downtown Stellis. There had been a controversy about the full glass walls and privacy issues a few years ago (you had read this case once, out of curiosity, and never again), but that was eventually resolved and now the first floor of the museum was regularly used for art exhibits. 

Before you knew Marius’ secret identity, you had invited him to visit one of Z’s exhibits. And Marius, the most shameless man to ever walk this Earth, had agreed. 

Fortunately, you learnt about this secret before you bought tickets for the exhibit. Not that you wouldn’t want to see his works displayed in the gallery, but the thought of you gushing over Z’s artwork in front of Marius without knowing the truth… 

It’s embarrassing. 

Today, however, it’s a different artist’s work on display. Thomas Mikeden, a foreign painter who’s been going on an exhibit world tour. Stellis is his latest stop, and everything just lined up. Both of you had the day off and tickets were on sale. You had invited Marius to the exhibit, excited to hear his artistic insight about the paintings, but Marius has been… a little petulant.

“I can’t believe we’re looking at a Mikeden painting,” he mutters, arms folded across his chest. “The first time you invite me to an art exhibit and it isn’t even mine; I can overlook that, but Mikeden?”

“What do you have against him?”

“We’re friends,” Marius says solemnly, looking like he doesn’t even believe the words coming out his mouth, “but we suffer from creative differences. Severe creative differences. If I ever have to see the way he mixes his oil paints again, I’d end up on the news for criminal activity. And he said if he ever had to see me try to sculpt a pot again, he’d wring my neck himself. He said my clay pots were an abomination against God.”

You blink at him. “You know how to do pottery?”

“According to him, I don’t.”

And suddenly, you get it. Creative differences, more like a bunch of children arguing over who does something right, or who does something better. Like kindergarteners fighting over whose parent made them the better lunchbox. 

“What are your thoughts on his ink wash painting?” 

Marius gives you an appraising look. “Not his worst work. He’s alright with ink wash. I've personally dabbled in ink wash before. It’s not my preferred medium, but we learnt it as part of our curriculum.”

You turn to look at him, eyes bright. “Really? Do you still have those ink wash paintings hidden away somewhere?”

“Of course. I never throw my works away. I’ll bring you to one of my storage warehouses one day.” 

One of his storage warehouses? It never occurred to you that painters would need a lot of space to store their paintings, even more so if they were particularly diligent and practiced different painting techniques often. With how many easels and canvases were strewn about Marius’ house, you suppose you should have made the connection.

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

The next few works are insightful, to say the least. Marius gets up close and personal with one of them to sneakily point out to you a place where Mikeden allegedly made a mistake and had spent hours trying to cover it up. 

“This is from when he tried to lean into the Baroque style,” Marius says, using his thumb to frame certain parts of the painting to draw your eye to them. “The colors here, see, the stark contrast between the light and the dark? That’s the use of tenebrism, popularised by Caravaggio.”

“Hm,” you note, eyes wandering around the painting. It’s a stunning piece of work, and Mikeden captured the likeness of the male form well. The extreme contrast almost seems to frame the figures with a halo, a light that blooms from their very center to strike at the viewer’s attention. “They’re quite handsome.”

Marius makes a sound at the back of his throat. “You’re more into modern men, jiejie.”

You hide your laugh behind a cough. He’s like a needy kitten pawing at you for attention, and you’re helpless against someone this cute. 

“Yes, yes, look at how handsome you are,” you say, turning around to face him head-on. You reach out, smoothing the non-existent creases away from his button-down. 

Without really thinking too deeply, your fingers linger on the stretch of the fabric across his chest—the thought that you can see them if you squint hard enough comes unbidden to your mind. The small bumps under the fabric, stiff from the slight chill of the room. 

It’s the kind of thought that grips you by the throat, sitting in your mind and taking up space, holding you captive until you do something about it. 

You brush your thumb against one of them, just because they’re right there, because you can, because Marius’ hands are on your hips and you’re feeling a little… playful. 

Immediately, a hand catches your wrist. It doesn’t stop you from pressing the pad of your thumb lightly against that raised bump, and Marius’ breath hitches. His fingers flex against your wrist, hard enough that you can’t help but smile. 

He’s usually the one making you flush in public, so you mark this as a victory. The sight of him, red-faced and pouting, heart pounding so desperately you can feel it through his chest—you pull your hand back, and he lets you go. That hand drops back to your waist as you bring your thumb to your lips, and you hold Marius’ gaze as the tip of your tongue darts out to lick your thumb.

Marius goes still. It’s as if he’s nothing more than one of the paintings hung up on the gallery walls, with how still he is; his pupils are blown wide and he gives you this shaken look, as if you’ve completely disarmed him. Swept him off his feet and left him grasping at straws to find the words to say. 

Eventually, you go back to smoothing out his shirt. Properly, this time. No messing around.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Marius murmurs, his breath puffing against the curve of your throat as he leans down. His voice is soft, barely louder than a whisper, but it somehow feels deafening in the quiet of the room. 

Your hands tighten around the front of his shirt. “Marius?”

“Be quiet for a moment,” he says. His fingers rest on your hips and you swear you can feel the heat radiating off his palms. It makes you want to shuffle away, pull back and put some space between the both of you—he doesn’t do anything, doesn’t tighten his grip, but his hands somehow get heavier. Like a weighted blanket resting around your waist, shackles holding you in place without really holding you at all. 

Your heart kicks in your chest. It isn’t often that Marius gets this way, so quiet and possessive, like he has to cage you in a small corner and watch you to make sure you don’t get away. His forehead rests against your clavicle—it’s not a comfortable position, not when he’s so much taller and he’s pressed up so closely against you that you can feel the way his chest shivers when he drags in a long breath. 

“Jiejie,” Marius whispers, voice quiet. “Sometimes, I wish I could wrap you up like a piece of art and hang you on my wall.”

He’s crazy, you think, and you realise even your subconscious thoughts have taken on this air of fondness when thinking of him.

“Is that so?” You reply, voice just as hushed. From the corner of your eye, you can see another patron glance at the both of you—they glance away, then look back, as if doubting their gaze. Yes, you think weakly to yourself, Marius is indeed clinging to you in the middle of a public gallery for expensive artworks that easily go for three times the price of your apartment. “Which wall will you put me up on?”

This time, Marius’ grip tightens imperceptibly on your hips. “Any wall that jiejie wants to be put up on,” he says huskily. His voice has dropped an octave, and the tone he takes is one that you’ve become very familiar with when you tease each other. Never enough to really commit to anything, not yet, but enough that Marius gets that look in his eyes like he’d very much want to stop being a gentleman about things. 

Abruptly, you notice the double entendre. “Marius!”

“You asked,” he says smugly, lifting his head so you come face to face with the smirk pulling at his lips. He tugs you in to press your body fully up against his, hip to shoulder. “Is jiejie shy now? I can tell you about which walls I’ve thought about you up on—my bedroom, naturally, but the living room is a strong contender.”

You gape at him, too shocked to say something smart in return. “You—! Not so loud, we’re in public!”

“No one’s listening.” Marius tilts his head, giving the surroundings a cursory once over before catching your gaze. “They’re busy looking at the art on display. I’m looking at a different kind of art on display.”

He’s so shameless that it makes you want to burst out in laughter. A different kind of art on display? Who does he think he is, a host from a host club? Where did he learn these phrases from? The Internet? His brother? Worse, Vyn? 

The thought of Marius asking the one and only Vyn Richter for advice on how to pick girls up makes you laugh. 

“You think you’re so smooth,” you say helplessly, lips curving up of their own accord as you reach up to loop your arms around Marius’ neck. “You think I’m going to fall for that?”

“I’m not a gambling man,” Marius tells you, a confident glint in his eye, “but I’ve always been lucky.” 

He puts up a strong front, but you know better. The back of his neck is hot from embarrassment. The tips of his ears are flushed red. You brush a stray strand of hair past the shell of his ear and pinch the crimson tip along the way. 

“Jiejie,” Marius whines, caught in the act. “Come on, let me pretend for a bit. Don’t you want to come home with me and have a better time?” 

He gives you this beseeching look, brows furrowed and lips turned down. You’re weak to that look—it’s suckered you into agreeing to far more things than you normally would have agreed to. But how can you say no to a face like that? To a man built like that, shoulders so broad they could dwarf you in a hug, fingers so long they could encircle your wrist, a face like God himself came down to carve it from marble—when Marius looks at you with that pleading gaze, millimeters away from begging, how can you say no to anything he asks for? 

Perhaps a stronger man would be able to resist the power of Marius’ visual attack. But you never proclaimed to have a strong willpower, and you fold like a castle of cards in a stiff breeze. 

“Let’s finish looking at all the works first. And no, just because you know who the artist is and insist that you could bring me over to his studio to see his other works—that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see the works exhibited here.”

“His art isn’t even that good,” Marius says, just to be contrary. “If you really wanted to see something from him, you should see his sculptures. I’ll admit those are impressive.”

“Finish the gallery, and then we can go home. You get to pick dinner.”

He perks up. “Italian or Chinese?”

“Later,” you insist. “I want to see this painting—” you glance at the title, raising an eyebrow when you catch sight of it, “—Lotus III.”

“Inspired by the same lotus garden that was featured in Lotus 0, Lotus I and Lotus II,” Marius grumbles as he takes one hand off your waist. You slide your hands down his shoulders, his chest, and furtively pat him on the ass before letting him go. 

He jumps, eyes wide as he swivels his head around to look at you. You give him an innocent look in return. 

“If you insist on being naughty, jiejie, don’t be surprised if I snatch you away and kidnap you back home.” The hand still on your waist squeezes in warning, and heat slithers down your back at the tone in his voice. 

You put a hand over the one on your waist, sliding your fingers in between his. “Be good.”

“Good boys get rewards. Is there a reward waiting for me later, jiejie?”

Naughty, you think to yourself, side-eying him. There’s a charming smile on his face, not even bothering to hide the playfulness lurking beneath his eyes. He’s testing you, pushing and pulling at your limits to see how far you can bend over backwards. 

“Maybe,” you reply. It’s never a good thing to reveal all your cards too early when dealing with a von Hagen in a playful mood. 

Marius laughs, leaning in to press his lips against the side of your head. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

The way he practically attaches himself to your hip, thumb rubbing possessively over your waist—you can’t help the flush crawling up to your cheeks, or the heat that flares between your legs. His hold on you isn’t tight, but it isn’t loose either. It reeks of a promise, and you can’t help but look forward to what that will happen once the two of you get back to his house. Or what will happen once you get into his car, when Marius has you right where he wants you to be and there’s enough privacy for something to happen. 

You shift, thighs rubbing together involuntarily at the stray thought. Desire slips through your body like a snake coiling in your veins; if you cling a little tighter to Marius in return, your mind only half-focused on the works displayed on the walls, well, no one will know. 

You think Marius might suspect something, though, going by the way his smirk grows larger with every glance he shoots you from the corner of his eye. 

Like he’s found something he can’t take his eyes off. Like he’s found something he likes. 

You fail to give Mikeden the attention his works deserve for the rest of the time you spend in the gallery, but he’s truly friends with Marius then you think the man won’t mind too much.

==

To your surprise, Marius doesn’t immediately scoop you into his lap when you get into the car. 

He leans over to help you pull the seatbelt, and very conveniently buries his face in your neck for half a second before he pulls back. Long enough for him to press his lips against your collarbone, the tip of his tongue swiping wetly against your skin; short enough for you to wonder if you hallucinated it.

But the smug look in his eyes as he pulls the seatbelt over your chest to click it into place tells you that you most definitely did not hallucinate it. 

“Home first,” Marius tells you, pretending to be casual as he leans back in his seat and does his own seatbelt. “If you keep looking at me with those eyes, jiejie, I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself while we’re on the road back.”

Right, you think dazedly. You’d forgotten Marius had decided to drive the both of you here—it wasn’t far from his place, and the both of you typically take a chauffeured car, but Marius wanted to do something special today. You haven’t been on a date in a while due to your unfortunate work schedule, and it definitely surprised you when Marius pulled up to your apartment in the driver’s seat, the window wound down, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he grinned at you. 

“What a shame,” you murmur under your breath, watching as he does his own seatbelt before pulling out of the parking lot. 

Your words make Marius stiffen. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel as the other finds its way to your knee. 

Again with that loose grip that feels like a shackle holding you in place. Marius isn’t doing anything more than just placing his hand over your knee—there’s not even any real pressure behind, no force or flexing or tightening of his grip, but you feel weighed down. You feel held down.

You wonder, a little stupidly, if Marius would do something if you spread your legs apart. 

But you’re on the road. Despite the heat flaring insistently in your gut, you’re not actually ready to risk it all while Marius is behind the wheel. It would have been a different story if the both of you were in the back seat with the partition drawn up. The ride back is what, ten, fifteen minutes? There’s a lot you can get done in that period of time.

Right as you resign yourself to a normal, quick ride back home, Marius’ hand slips a little.

Just a little. It’s so subtle that if it weren’t for the heat practically bleeding through his palms, you think you wouldn’t have noticed. 

His hand goes from right above your knee to cupping the inside of your knee. 

You eye him speculatively. Was it inertia? The car made a turn and his hand simply slipped with the centrifugal force? 

His lips quirk up. “I’ll get shy if you keep looking at me, jiejie. I need to focus on the road.”

“Hm,” you say, feeling your cunt clench involuntarily when Marius’ hand moves further up your thigh. It’s not in direct contact with your skin, not when there’s your silk dress in between, but the material is thin and you swear you can feel the calluses from Marius’ fingers rubbing gently against the sensitive inside of your thigh. 

Fifteen minutes, you think. Surely you can’t die from a little fun on the road. 

“Your hand’s on the wrong place,” you murmur, gently placing your hand over his. 

Marius hums at the back of his throat. “Ah? Sorry, I—jiejie.”

You lift his hand off your thigh for a quick moment, draw apart the slit of your dress, and slide his hand under the fabric.

Directly on your thigh. You even curve his fingers back down so he can maintain that grip on you.

You can see his fingers flex. They’re stiff, knuckles tense as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When you peek at him, his ears are flushed a bright red and his Adam’s Apple bobs furiously, like he’s swallowing desperately. 

And right between his thighs, you can see a tent in his trousers. You kind of want to reach out to touch it, but you hold yourself back. 

“Jiejie,” he whines, and chances a glance at you before reluctantly dragging his eyes back to the road. “I was joking—you can’t distract me while I’m driving.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say mildly, burying the laugh that threatens to escape when his fingers squeeze pointedly around your thigh. The grave you dug is for both of you; his hand is higher now, on your thigh, so close to your core that one road bump would probably be reason enough for his fingers to slide right home. 

You almost want to pretend to jerk forward. But you have enough of your wits about you to recognise that if Marius felt the heat of your pussy through your panties press up against his fingertips at this moment, he would probably drive the car into the nearest building. 

“I’m trying to be good,” Marius complains. His fingers keep twitching against your skin, as if he’s really, physically holding himself back from doing something. 

“Good boys get rewards,” you echo, patting the back of his palm. “We’re almost home, see the gates up in front?”

He clicks his tongue. “As if I can focus on anything right now.” To prove his point, he speeds up, leg bouncing impatiently as he turns into the driveway. “Park, I have to park…”

The whole time, his hand doesn’t leave your thigh. And there’s something really sexy about it, you can’t help but realise—the slant of his jaw from the side, the way driving comes so easily to him, where he only needs one hand to maneuver the wheel. Even the way he looks over his shoulder as he eases into his parking spot makes you want to press your thighs together in a useless attempt to stave off the heat building in your core. 

“Good enough,” Marius declares, switching the engine off. “Out, out, come on—”

He snaps the seatbelt off and practically flies out the car. You’re so taken aback that you’re still in your seat when he comes to your side and yanks the door open, petulance written all over his face when he finds you still strapped in. 

“C’mon,” he whines, reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt. “Jiejie, come on, come on—”

“Impatient,” you chide, even as you reach out to steady yourself while you exit the car. “Hold on, my heels—”

“Jiejie,” Marius says, and he seriously sounds like he’s about to burst. 

In that split second, you make a decision. Your panties are ruined as is, and you really, really want to be filled right now. You’re not sure if you can make the distance from the car to the lift, especially when the garage is so fucking huge—

“Backseat,” you murmur, and Marius reacts much faster than you expect. He pulls you up and into his chest, making you let out a sound of surprise at how aggressive he is, but he’s surprisingly gentle when he cups your jaw and slants his lips over yours. 

It’s a desperate kiss. Marius licks into your mouth, hands tight around your waist as he pulls you in close. The bulge in his slacks feels like it’s burning a brand into your hip—you want to skate your hands down, cup that swollen cock and rub your thumb over the tip. You’ve never seen it, not yet, but the two of you have fooled around every now and then so you’re somewhat familiar with the curve of his cock through his pants. 

It’s a hefty weight in your fingers, and Marius always makes the most delicious sounds when you rock your hips against him, squeezing around his thigh between your legs as you trace over the outline of his cock. 

“Fuck,” Marius curses. His fingers dig greedily into the sides of your body—the grip now is entirely different from the one at the museum. The positions are roughly the same, but this time he holds you like he’s trying to burn his brand into you, leave an imprint of bruises around your waist so you ache every time you move tomorrow morning. “Fuck, jiejie, your mouth—”

“Mmhmm,” you hum into his mouth, shoving one thigh between his legs so you can get a good seat on Marius’ thigh. It’s as if Marius has a direct line of sight into your mind—he hikes you up on his thigh so the hard line of his muscle presses right into the swell of your clit, and you groan out loud as you start rocking against his thigh. 

Fuck, you think you could cum like this. Marius’ hands have dropped lower, cupping the curve of your ass and every squeeze he makes goes straight to your cunt like there’s a livewire connection. He pulls you so high up that you’re struggling to keep your toes on the ground, and Marius is practically pulling you back and forth on his leg, helping you rut against him. 

His breath is hot. His kisses are searing, and it feels like there’s a nonstop feedback loop where your arousal pours into each other over and over again. It’s a fire in your gut, threatening to eat you alive, and when he pulls back to catch his breath, he immediately bows down to lick against your jaw. 

Marius sucks at your skin, bullying a bruise into the underside of your jaw. He isn’t satisfied with just one, and he just keeps going down the expanse of your neck, biting at any patch of unblemished skin. 

“Baby,” you whisper, one hand trailing down to press your palm over the tight bulge begging for attention. The lightest touch is enough to make Marius groan, hips stuttering as he chases your touch. “Can I—can I touch?”

Marius freezes for a heartbeat. Before you can second guess yourself, he moans into your neck, hips jerking as he pushes his clothed cock into your palm. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, nodding while avoiding eye contact with you.

His ears are crimson. So cute, you can’t help but think through the fever in your mind. It’s almost too easy to find your way around the button in his pants, and there’s some trouble with getting the zipper down from how hard he is. His briefs get caught for a moment, long enough to make Marius groan from frustration, but you shush him with another slide of your hips, cunt wet enough to drench his slacks, and Marius shuts up. 

“Good boy,” you murmur breathlessly, arching your back so you get a better angle to grind your clit against his thigh. “Be good, come on, let me—”

Unfortunately, there are no flaps in briefs for you to pull his cock out from. You reach in instead, shivering at the proper weight of it in your palm—skin on skin, you think deliriously to yourself, cunt clenching at the feeling of Marius’ cock in your hand. His cock, so thick that you can’t even really wrap your fingers around it properly, and the head is dripping. 

Marius sucks in a tight breath, cursing as he cants his hips up, almost bouncing you on his lap from the force. 

“Jiejie,” he begs, plaintive and desperate. “Nngh, please, the tip, you need to—fuck, I’m not going to—I’m going to cum, jiejie…”

And you stop thinking. You grab one of his hands and drag it to your front, so commandingly that Marius’ head flies up. His eyes are red, lips parted as he sucks in a shaky breath every time you swipe your thumb across the sensitive slit at the head of his cock. 

“In, inside,” you whine, rising as high as you can go on your toes. It’s not very high, given how far up Marius has pulled you onto his thigh, but it’s enough for your to drag his long fingers under your skirt and press them up against your cunt. 

Marius’ eyes are blown wide. “In-inside?” He stammers, fingers crooking automatically to press against the throbbing bud of your clit. Such clever fucking fingers, already familiar with the shape of your cunt to know where your clit is. 

Without needing much direction, he uses two fingers to drag your soaked panties to the side and rubs the knuckle of his index finger against your pussy. 

“A-ah,” you cry out, hips jerking. Fuck, you understand now why Marius reacted like that when you got your hand on his cock—there’s something about the texture of his skin, the calluses on his fingers that’s stroking the sides of your pussy, the sheer heat radiating off him—and the knowledge, the knowledge that it’s his hands on your cunt. After months of frotting, the most you’ve done being Marius’s palm flat against your cunt while you held eye contact and grinded against his shaking palm until you cummed—

“Inside, baby, come on,” you plead, rocking your hips insistently against his curious fingers. 

Again, it’s like Marius gets you. He sinks his index finger in; you think he wanted to go slow, because he tentatively pressed up into your cunt, but you’re greedy and you’ve been thinking of being filled since Marius made that joke about putting you up against a wall and you whine, rocking forward until you sink down, down, all the way down to the base and Marius’ breath is hitching in his throat. 

“You’re—” his finger bends, the tip brushing against this spot inside you that makes your entire body shiver, threatening to bend in half from the electricity that surges through you. “Shit, you’re—fuck, jiejie, you feel fucking incredible.”

“One more,” you beg, holding his wrist in place while you clench around his finger. Christ, you didn’t think it could feel this good. It’s so foreign, so much longer and thicker than your fingers—and again, the knowledge that it’s Marius’ hand, Marius’ finger is enough to make your gut tighten and sparks burst at the very end of your fingertips. “One more and my—”

You break off, thighs trembling when he swipes against your swollen clit with his thumb.

Marius groans at the sight of you, leaning in to bite at your lips. “One more and my thumb on your clit? Is that what you want, jiejie? Is that what you need?”

“Mmhmm—ahhhhhn, fuck, Marius—please, please, I’m so fucking close—!”

You’re not even sure if you’re still stroking the length of his cock. All your senses have narrowed down to your cunt, the pressure on your clit and the way his fingers have gained confidence with every stroke—he fucks up into you with such surety, so certain that he knows exactly where to hit to get that same, body shivering reaction from you.

The worst part is, he does. It barely takes one, two, three strokes while he whispers filthy things about how hot and wet and slick your cunt is, about how it’s soaked through just for him, about how he wants to bury his face in it, please jiejie, please let him put your thighs around his ears and eat you out, and you’re gone. 

It hits you so hard you think you almost pass out. The ascent comes too quickly; it almost feels like the orgasm is ripped from you from clever hands that know you better than you know yourself. It leaves you breathless, your entire body jerking uncontrollably as you whine, pussy clenching around those two thick fingers buried in your cunt. You’re mumbling nonsense, not even sure what you’re saying as your cunt gushes around Marius’ ruined pants and when you resurface, Marius looks at you like you’re the second coming of Christ.

It takes you both a while to get your breathing under control. Marius recovers first, gently sliding his fingers out of your cunt. You’re a little embarrassed at the absolute mess you’ve made, but Marius eyes the wetness dripping over his palm, down his wrist, and decides to drag his tongue along his skin to lick it all up.

He even looks right as you as he does it. The sight is enough to make your clit throb, as if gearing up for a second round. Oh, you could definitely do a second round, but you think you’d prefer for it to be in a room with a bed and not a garage.

Almost absentmindedly, you start to rub your thumb against the cockhead in your grip.

“F-fuck,” Marius groans lowly, free hand reaching out to grab your wrist. “Wait, wait—nnngh, sensitive. Give me a moment.”

You pause. You look down.

His briefs are stained. There’s a massive wet spot at the front, and when you drag your fingers out, they’re coated in a sticky, white fluid. 

You look Marius in the eye as you, too, lift your fingers to your lips. You stick your tongue out, wiping the threads of cum on your tongue so Marius can see how white looks in your mouth—and he flushes even redder than he already is, eyes darting away before darting back, as if he can’t decide whether he wants to look or not—and then you swallow. 

Marius is speechless for a while. 

“That was really hot,” he says eventually, voice hoarse. “I—fuck, jiejie, I can go again. I’m serious, just give me a minute.” 

You suck on your fingertips for a moment. You’re clearly ready for a second round, but you know he gets more desperate when you keep him hanging. And a desperate Marius is always a delight to work with. 

“Bedroom?” You suggest, and your cunt tightens at the way his eyes immediately go dark with desire.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[avelera]

Let's Play: What's Wrong with this Sculpture?

Following in the theme of sharing astonishing moments of ancient sculpture pedantry here on Tumblr, based on my brief undergraduate stint as a T.A of ancient art history, I thought I'd share one of my other proudest moments of being an absolutely insufferable know-it-all about ancient sculptures.

In the process, I hope I can also share some of the sort of largely useless (from a practical perspective) information that Tumblr tends to glory in, so buckle up buttercups.

This question was posed to me on a walking tour of the Capitoline Museum in my ancient art history class while I was living abroad. Our professor, a delightfully curmudgeonly Belgian, stopped in front and asked us to figure out why this sculpture is just plain wrong.

I intend to walk you through the process of how I got the right answer and, after gaining my teacher's rare approval, glowed with enough serotonin to power a small nuclear reactor.

So, let's return to the original question: what is wrong with this sculpture?

Because if you are truly eagle-eyed you should be able to spot what very famous sculpture this actually is, before an overly imaginative Frenchman brought it back wrong.

Hint #1: It was incorrectly restored.

Look closely at the the difference of the patina, or color of the stone. It's a bit hard to tell in this photo, but the head was added later. It's a paler white than the core of the torso, which is what we have of the original sculpture.

Hint #2: It was incorrectly restored in the 18th century by a Frenchman (Pierre-Étienne Monnot) who made some, shall we say, creative interpretations of what's going on here.

You can tell it's by an 18th c. Frenchman because the facial features are so delicate. Ancient statues tend to have less narrow and delicate chins and noses. In general, that is a dead giveaway when something is 18th century French vs. Ancient Greek or Roman.

Here's a good example. The first sculpture is 18th c. French, the second is the famous Venus de Milo. Note her blockier chin and less delicate features. So in the future, you can tell these sort of later additions to Greek or Roman sculptures if they added a new head because 17-19th century sculptors in Europe had tools (like finer drill tips) and tastes (beauty standards that favored more delicate men and women) that led to a pronounced difference in the faces.

Hint #3: Check out the anatomy of his lower shoulder. That's another addition, that arm should not be coming straight out of a torso where the muscle, if you look closely, is turned inward.

Seriously, that looks painful.

Hint #4: The sword he's holding up is just total nonsense for the Roman era. I mean, the restoration makes no secret of the fact that this sword is a later addition, but it's also just an absolute nonsense sword with its silly little curved cross guard. This Frenchman literally just made it up.

Here's an ancient sculpture with a sword in it that actually looks right:

From the Ludovisi Gaul, a famous Hellenistic Baroque work of Greek sculpture. Note the much blockier sword though I will admit, it could be a later addition, I don't know for 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure it's the original. Regardless, it fits the sculpture much better and let me add that sword I'm criticizing is completely made up for the sculpture we're talking about and is not there in the original sculpture that was incorrectly restored.

Ok, so those are all the hints.

Look closely at the body of the first sculpture. Cut away the arms that are not connected to the body correctly, the sword that shouldn't be there, the face that was far too delicate. When you separate those later additions out, can you tell me what sculpture that actually is?

Because here is the reveal!

The Discus Thrower, aka, the Discobolus by Myron.

The French restorationist got carried away by his own imagination, saw a twisted torso and thought it could only possibly be a warrior in the midst of twisting around to fend off a blow, not an athlete in the midst of a demonstration of skill. It's a martial, fanciful read that completely misinterpreted the subject.

This is why most restoration today employs a much lighter touch, rather than trying to reattach pieces incorrectly, they tend to just outline where the missing pieces are with a light sketch of an educated guess of what might have actually been there. Faulty restorations like the Capitoline Discobolus is one reason for this modern stylistic principle when it comes to restoration work.

When my professor asked us to identify the correct original sculpture that day on the museum tour, it was the sword that pinged me as wrong first, but zeroing in on the core of the sculpture, the torso, is what revealed the true statue underneath.

This notoriously difficult to please professor was very proud when I blurted out, "It's the Discus Thrower!" and the high-octane serotonin I got from his approval probably could have propelled me into the sun that day, and brought to you Yet Another Moment of Ancient Sculpture Pedantry.

[liminalgardens]

Image: Rudolf Petereit. The Girl of the Lagoon. 1864

Prussian Art History

The fine art of East Prussia reflected many international cultural connections, interweaving many styles and trends of European art. Due to the complicated history of the region, many artists were forgotten, many works were lost, some became private property, and only a few ended up in museums. Thus, Popov’s collection is valuable not only aesthetically, but also historically and educationally...

...oil, tempera, water colour and pastel paintings, prints made using various graphic art techniques, drawings and reproductive prints represent the most significant phenomena of fine art history in East Prussia – the Königsberg Art Academy and the Artists’ Colony of Nida (Nidden), as well as the works of painters that were born, permanently lived or occasionally visited this region.

Image: Bruno Bielefeld. Lake in the Forest. Oil on canvas. 19th century

...from Academism, sentimental Realism, late Impressionism, and Naturalism, to Expressionism and New Objectivity. Some works, created in the second half of the 20th century and which represent late Expressionism, reveal a phenomenon of East Prussian fine arts post-1945: unable to return to their beloved places, painters created paintings by memory, based on their impressions deep in their minds.

In 1709, Friedrich Wilhelm built the Schloss Charlottenburg as a summer palace for his wife Sophie Charlotte. His son, Elector Friedrich III, who became Frederick I the first King of Prussia from 1701, continued the mission to build a royal capital—now befitting a Prussian capital—hiring court architects and sculptors like Andreas Schluter, Johann Arnold Nering and Martin Grünberg.

Schluter’s most famous baroque-influenced work was the Royal Palace. Still, he was also responsible for the equestrian statue of Frederick I that today. Still, he was also responsible for the equestrian statue of Frederick I that today fronts the Schloss Charlottenburg, and the sculptural decorations for the Zeughaus.

The Zeughaus, best known for housing the Deutsches Historisches Museum (German History Museum), was designed by Schluter, Nering, Grünberg, and Jean de Bodt. Built between 1695 and 1729, it’s the oldest building on Unter den Linden. Another grand example of baroque can be found of course at Sansoucci in Potsdam, which was built a little later (between 1755-1764) as a summer residence for Frederick The Great.

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Artnet: Saint Sebastian, The Gay Icon

Saint Sebastian by Guido Reni (left) and El Greco (right).

Despite Saint Sebastian’s popularity in art history, the details of his life are sparingly few. Saint Sebastian is venerated as an early Christian martyr and a saint by the Catholic and Orthodox churches and, according to fifth-century hagiography, during the Diocletian Persecution of Christians Sebastian, a member of the Praetorian Guard, was sentenced to death by the reining pagan Emperor Diocletian for espousing the teachings of Christianity.

He was tied to a tree and soldiers shot him with arrows, but according to Christian lore, Saint Sebastian miraculously survived, having been rescued and healed by Saint Irene of Rome. This scene of affliction and survival would become a popular artistic theme as early as medieval times, only growing more common in 16th- and 17th-century European painting.

Sebastian’s actual martyrdom, however, came after this initial assault. Having recovered, the saint attempted to confront the Diocletian face-to-face about his persecution of Christians. Guards clubbed the saint to death and his body was dumped into a sewer, only to be later recovered by Saint Lucy and buried in a Roman catacomb, where his remains are still today enshrined at the Basilica of St. Sebastian Outside the Walls.

Throughout the centuries, Saint Sebastian’s myth and legacy have shifted with cultural interests. During medieval times, Saint Sebastian was embraced as a patron of divine protection and culturally aligned with the god Apollo, resulting in the saint’s depiction as a beautiful and youthful young man (though often clad in armor, in keeping with his life as a soldier). With the emergence of the Black Death, however, his likeness shifted to one of a grizzled older man, more aligned with his historical age. His popularity as a protective intercessor against disease grew, however, and with it, his return to youthful attractiveness.

By the dawn of the Renaissance, artists were emulating prototypes of masculinity associated with the Greek world, and Saint Sebastian transformed into a figure of ephebic beauty—adolescent, lithe, idealized in form, and often covered only by a loin cloth. These images showed the saint, not in his actual moment of martyrdom, but in a more poetic moment of torture by arrows. Indeed, these Renaissance and Baroque depictions are rooted in the Catholic teachings about the permeability of saints’ bodies and the ecstasy experienced in their communion with the divine. 

In the modern era, the popularization of Saint Sebastian as an icon in the gay community often leads back to Guido Reni’s Martyrdom of St. Sebastian (c. 1615) arguably the most famous depiction of the saint. Oscar Wilde was known to have adored the work, which is in the collection of the Palazzo Rosso, in Genoa. In fact, Wilde went so far as to adopt the pen name Sebastian while exiled in Paris during the last years of his life.

Yukio Mishima (left) and Sebastien Moura (right) as Saint Sebastian.

Reni’s painting was similarly influential to the famed 20th-century Japanese author Yukio Mishima; in Mishima’s 1949 novel Confessions of a Mask, the book’s adolescent protagonist experiences a homosexual awakening while gazing at the very same painting. The references to the saint didn’t end there—Mishima, who was himself gay, went so far as to pose as Saint Sebastian in a now-infamous photographic portrait, taken not long before the writer’s death by suicide in 1970.

In the visual arts, too, these allusions to the saint have cropped up repeatedly throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. In the 1970s, Italian artist Luigi Ontani staged a provocative photograph of Saint Sebastian as a gay icon. In the 1976 film Sebastiane, filmmaker Derek Jarman engaged with the narrative of the saint to explore ties between sexual and spiritual ecstasy, through a specifically homoerotic lens. 

But what about these depictions of Saint Sebastian so resonated with the likes of Wilde and Mishima? Many observers, including Susan Sontag, have noted that Sebastian doesn’t yell out in anguish amid his wounding but endures the torment with an expression caught between pain and pleasure. Sontag called him the “exemplary sufferer.” His head is often flung back or forward rapturously. He conceals the depth of his emotions, experiencing both torments and pleasures privately, a feeling similar to the experience of gay identity for many men in the 20th century (and often to this day).

Others have interpreted the arrows piercing the saint’s body as phallic allusions and disguised references to homosexual sex, while his rope-tied hands can be seen through the lens of sadomasochism. Perhaps most concretely, the story of Saint Sebastian paralleled the experiences and fears of the closeted gay community—when Sebastian’s concealed true (Christian) identity was revealed, he was shunned, tormented, and killed by those in power, a harrowing tale that mirrored the gay experiences of being “outed” throughout modern history.

(Full article)

[otrtbs]

i need more historian nat: what's your favourite artwork in ahb and what's the lore behind it 🤭

OOOOOOOOH THIS IS SOOOO HARD. SO HARD.

Because almost all of the works in Art Heist, Baby! are chosen because I've seen them in person, or because I yearn to see them in person with a longing so intensely that it eats me up.

Okay, I think I'm going to have to go with Allegory of Charity by Francisco de Zurbarán (1655). (See is currently housed at the Prado museum in Madrid but she's not on display for the public to see).

I mean look at her, she's gorgeous!!

I think the flaming heart is pretty famous in its own right (often cropped without the complete image) and I am slut for catholic imagery (as a girl who went to catholic school for a bit and grew up catholic). So, let's discuss!! 😋

Zurbarán was a Spanish Baroque painter mainly known for his religious oil paintings (s/o to his still life with lemon, oranges and a rose though. that painting goes hard). He was a part of the Catholic counter-reformation in which a resurgence of catholic religious art, symbolism, imagery, and even institutions (such as seminaries and churches) that popped up in response to growing protestant support. Zurbarán was often commissioned to paint for monasteries and the king of Spain, is known to be "the Spanish Caravaggio" for his use of similar harsh lighting styles and painting techniques (chiaroscuro and tenebrism).

Zurbarán's works are often highly stylized and Allegory of Charity is no different. She is very posed and poised and looks out at the audience, directly (even the dramatic folds in her clothing aren't probable, but are done for visual effect, and not life-immitating accuracy). The central figure in the work is Charity personified, and she holds in her hand the flaming sacred heart of Jesus. The dove above, that is bursting into flames, represents the holy spirit.

-> Personal non-art historian nat input here -- there is just something about the way she looks out at the viewer. charity, with her compassion, or pity, making direct eye-contact with you. like, i would kill to see it in person...

Charity is seen clothed in red (the color of love and fittingly charity and green (the color of life and abundance).

Anyway, I think it's mentioned very briefly, in passing in AHB! but I made her viewable to the public (and to Regulus and James) because the Prado Museum in Madrid is gatekeeping her from the public!!!! I love this painting so much, so much. It's hard to describe, but she feels like an old friend. Like we'd be kindred spirits or something. And,,, I want to see her.

Okay thank you for listening to my little rant <3

[camisoledadparis]

A student named Wakabayashi Ayame who graduated in 2019 created apple masterpieces based on the different styles of famous painters, such as Picasso and Claude Monet.

The apples were displayed at the Kuwasawa graduation exihibition in Japan. Wakabayashi Ayame's artwork is truly impressive! Her creative interpretation of famous painters' styles using apples as the medium is remarkable. Here are some interesting aspects of his work:

*Technique and Inspiration*: Ayame's use of apples to recreate iconic art styles showcases his technical skill and attention to detail. He drew inspiration from renowned artists like:

1. Salvador Dalí (Surrealism)

2. Hokusai (Ukiyo-e)

3. Paul Cézanne (Post-Impressionism)

4. Picasso (Cubism)

5. Edvard Munch (Expressionism)

6. Piet Mondrian (De Stijl)

7. Vincent van Gogh (Post-Impressionism)

8. Claude Monet (Impressionism)

9. Rembrandt (Baroque)

*Symbolism and Message*: By using apples, Ayame may have intended to convey themes such as:

1. The beauty of everyday objects

2. The intersection of art and nature

3. The fleeting nature of life (apples being perishable)

[laiqualaurelote]

Press Release: Spooky Action at a Distance Album Reveal

The London Music Register - Local Interest

Spooky Action At A Distance unveils cover art for their much awaited debut album

The Ambassadors meets The Breakfast Club

Perhaps even more difficult than snagging a ticket to one of SAAAD’s sold-out club shows is trying to describe the experience to your less-lucky friends afterwards.

Their sound defies basic mortal conventions such as genre, instead better described by critic buzzwords, namely, transcendent and explosive.

Four band mates of wildly different backgrounds and styles meet to produce something that’s both the ultimate sum of their ancestral influences and entirely, uniquely theirs. Their music unabashedly melds high and low art- what begins as a pop punk song flows seamlessly into an operatic verse, while another number features elements of a baroque dance suite in what can best be defined as a modern club anthem. Their lyrics are equally packed with esoteric references and universal emotions.

It shouldn’t work- but it does. And it’s delicious. In order to tide you over until the album release, we’ve got the first look at its cover art, and as a gift to fans, it’s visually indicative of the band’s layered sound.

Many of you may be familiar with The Ambassadors from school trips to the National Gallery. The painting’s a popular subject of debate for art historians due to its detailed subjects and metaphysical symbolism. It’s reproduced faithfully here, albeit with a few cheeky adjustments.

SAAAD frontwoman Crystal Palace (yes, that Crystal Palace!) takes the place of the leftmost figure, complete with lavish outfit and undeniable rockstar swagger.

Across from her, drummer Charles Rowland stands in a dark coat, sticks clutched in a gloved hand.

Bassist Niko Sasaki lays across the top shelf à la Molly Ringwald, dandelion-crowned head at Palace’s shoulder.

Center frame- the band’s ‘brain’: virtuoso Edwin Payne sits with a lute across his lap and the painting’s infamous distorted skull slashing across his legs. (Memento mori seems to be a prevalent theme in many of SAAAD’s songs, though they often turn it into a lively celebration)

Eagle eyed fans will notice a couple additions to Holbein’s instruments- a bear figurine, a lantern, and a cherry blossom branch among them. Are they references to the band’s lyrics? Hints at future projects?

One thing’s for sure, we cannot wait to see more of this group. *

Spooky Action At A Distance’s album is available for preorder at record stores all across London.

Next live show: Saturday night at the Catabasis (tickets required in advance)

Booking inquires should be sent to Jenny Green.

HELLO I LOVE THIS?! for those unfamiliar with The Ambassadors by Hans Holbein, it's a 16th-century painting most famous for the weird distorted shape in the foreground, which looks like an alien object but is an anamorphic skull that comes into view if you approach it from certain angles. It's absolutely perfect for this band AU, I am shrieking. my eternal thanks to you anon

I actually drafted, but did not put in the fic itself, the track listing for the band's debut album AFTERLIVES, complete with writing credits:

SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET (Payne)

ACES DACES (Rowland)

LEFT OVER RITE (Payne)

TANPOPO NO KAMISAMA (Sasaki)

STICKY CRICKET WICKET (Rowland)

GIRLS’ KNIVES OUT (Sasaki, Surname von Hoverkraft)

RESTLESS PIANO SYNDROME (Payne)

PICK UP WHAT YOU’RE PUTTING DOWN (Rowland)

BRACELET ABOUT THE BONE (Payne)

BURY THE EX (Surname von Hoverkraft)

LANTERN IN THE DARK (Payne)

STAIRWAY TO HELL (Payne, Rowland) 

(bonus track)

13. GOT THE HELL OUT OF HELL (WE AIN’T GOING BACK) (Payne, Rowland, Sasaki, Surname von Hoverkraft)

gig officially gigged

[shegatsby]

Heyy! Its me again haha. I really wanted to thank you, this turned out really good!♡

I also have another idea..

Okay so reader is Will's cousin and they are visiting Will, Hannibal doesn't know and decides to pay Will a visit but he's currently at the store so he starts talking with the reader and they find out they have much in common like being fans of arts, opera and cooking.. and then reader says they are applying for a job in Baltimore as maybe an arts teach or smth. And 5 to 6 months after that reader meets Hannibal again in a museum of arts, they again start talking and catching up, exchanging numbers and staying in contact for awhile until Hannibal gets 'captured' and then of course everything that happens after that, Hannibal tries contacting reader in that time but it seems as reader blocked him.. and then I thought that maybe it would be like after the fall that Hannibal finally gets in contact with reader and they finally start building a romantic relationship!^^

So yeah thats my idea. I really hope you like this idea and can make something of it. Your writing is like honestly amazing and I would be really excited if you would do this considering the other one was so well made.. I wish you a wonderful late new year and to everyone else aswell! <3

A/N; I cannot believe I've finished this while listening to Justin Bieber -Maria lol Sorry its a bit long but i really enjoyed writing it. Also thank you for your kind words, i'm here to serve the fandom. <3 sorry for any typos since English isn't my native language. Oh, i hope you'll have an amazing year and i hope you'll heal from your past wounds.

words; 2.607K

warnings; mention of cirme, thats it. its safe kiddos.

You had to walk into the store in order to get warm and also buy groceries for your dear cousin. Will Graham. You were visiting him for a week and he asked you to cook your famous stew, in cold days like this a warm stew would cheer anyone up, so after breakfast you decided to get dressed and go to the store while Will was making cookies for his guest. You didn’t know who the guest was but he said he wanted you two to meet. You only nodded and left the house. Inside was warm, and smelled nice, you loved grocery shopping and cooking for people. It was your way of showing your affection towards beloved ones. You were in the wine section, decided to make some hot wine. As you were trying to reach to the top shelf you heard a calm yet dominant voice saying ‘’Allow me.’’ And on your peripheral vision you saw a man’s hand reaching for the wine you wanted. ‘’Here you go.’’ You turned to face the owner of that deep voice, ‘’Thank you.’’ You managed to say, observing his maroon orbits. Such a distinct color, you thought. ‘’Elegant choice. Most people don’t go for that brand.’’ He announced, Doctor Hannibal Lecter never made small conversations with people he didn’t know but when he noticed that this person knew a good quality wine he just wanted to chat. ‘’I’m making hot wine for today. This one is the best for that.’’ You said smiling, he smiled back. ‘’What is your go to choice?’’ he had this strange aura that made you want to talk to him, normally you would smile and say goodbye but he intrigued you to your core. ‘’If I’m visiting a close friend I pick this one, which that’s what I’m doing today.’’ You looked at the brand he was holding, ‘’I always admired the painting on that bottle. Such baroque colors.’’ He raised an eyebrow to your statement, ‘’I assume you’re interested in art?’’

‘’Always have been. Actually once the paper work is done I’ll start working in Baltimore with painters. They opened a studio and asked if I could work with them.’’ That’s when Hannibal noticed the small and dry paint residue on your dominant hand. ‘’I live in Baltimore and I hope to see your paintings one day at an art gallery. Good luck.’’ He smiled a warm smile which reminded you the sunset in winter, it gave you hope for the future.

‘’Thank you so much.’’ You said and you both walked to your separate ways. However, fate had its own webs to arbitrate in your behalf.

Once you reached to your cousin’s home you saw a car on the front yard, apparently his guest have arrived. You climbed the porch and used the spare key Will gave you. You could hear two man talking about a murder case, you knew what your cousin’s job was and he was so passionate about it that every week he would call you and tell you about a new case. In the entire family he chose you as his special blood connection. You two have always been considered as outlaws, or ‘’the freaks’’ and this made you more close to one another. ‘’I’m home.’’ You announced to let them know, just in case if they were talking secret FBI files. ‘’Come in Y/N.’’ you heard your cousin say with enthusiasm. You quickly left the bags on the kitchen counter and washed your hands, you had slightly cleaning obsession which Will never forgot to point it out. ‘’Hi!’’ you wore your warmest smile and walked into the living room which was at the back of the house and it had a door that opened to the back yard.

As soon as you walked in you saw that man from the store, sitting on the single armchair, holding a coffee mug in his large hand. You froze in your steps, watched him stand up, fix his clothes subtly and extend his hand towards you, ‘’What a lovely coincidence. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.’’ You took his hand, it was warm and manly, ‘’Y/N Y/L/N.’’ Will was puzzled but you explained to him quickly.

That night you asked him to stay longer and he helped you coking the stew and making the hot wine. 3 of you talked and explored new ideas about their cases, they were really keen on getting a fresh perspective from you about their recent case.

It had been months since that strange coincidence, since that you were working in that studio you mentioned to him and rented a small apartment for yourself and your cat. Things were going pretty smoothly and for the first time you and your team had an opening at the Baltimore Museum of Arts, it was an important night for you and you dressed up accordingly. Elegant yet showing your curves in a subtle way. A black velvet dress that was above the knee, black high heels, a fresh blow out, red lips and red nails. You felt like a goddess and walked like one as well. The event started at 8 pm, you were there with your colleges making sure everything was ready.

You were nervous so your colleagues greeted the guests who were mostly middle aged white people, you didn’t mind, since no one knew your face you could stand behind guests and listen their criticism about your work. It was fun, drinking your champagne and listening to rich folk who knew nothing about art making assumptions, some wondered about the artist but you were safe. You were standing right next to them and they didn’t know who you were. You had no idea about what was going to happen that night and that excited you deeply.

‘’Hello Y/N.’’ someone addressed you directly, for some reason you felt like a deer caught in the red lights. You turned to face the owner of that dominant voice, it was him. You almost dropped the empty champagne glass you were holding, he had a smirk on his plump lips. He grabbed your empty glass, a waiter was near you two so he gave the empty glasses to him got new ones, ‘’May I say you look ravishing tonight.’’ His comment made you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, ‘’Thank you, it’s been a while. How are you?’’ and you started catching up, he asked which one of the paintings were yours and you pointed, he looked at them for a while without saying anything, he seemed as if he was calculating something in his marvelous brain of his. Soon you were surrounded by his colleagues, he kept you by his side, ‘’I’m sure you would be delighted to know that those magnificent paintings were created by none other than this woman who is standing next to me.’’ He announced when his colleagues mentioned how much they liked your paintings, you were shocked that he revealed you to them like this, he seemed proud to have you to himself, the crowed started to compliment you all you could say ‘’Thank you, thank you so much..’’ you weren’t used to having the spot light. You could feel his large hand on the small of your back, not moving up or down, staying put. You felt like he was showing you off, but why?

When the night came to an end all of your paintings were sold, the owner would be revealed in a few days and you decided to send him or her a thank you note. Hannibal asked you for your phone number to keep in touch, he offered to drive you home also, you didn’t refuse because it was cold outside. As you left the building together you noticed his elite acquaintances raised eyebrows and questionable eyes, you didn’t care. You gave him the directions, it was snowing outside softly, when he reached to the parking lot of your apartment complex, he parked the car. You had a strange feeling that you didn’t want this night to come to an end, you noticed his slowness, maybe he felt the same way? You watched him opening his mouth to say something and then closing it. ‘’Would you like a glass of hot wine.. since it is really cold it could warm us.’’ You abruptly suggested, ‘’I would love to.’’ Was there a hint of excitement in his dominant voice? You didn’t want to jump into conclusions, he was older than you and seemed like a serious man, why would he want to have deeper connection with you? He had multiple beautiful people in his circle to entertain him… you decided that you two were in the right place in the right time and also Will Graham being your cousin made you two share a simple connection, that was it.

Thankfully your flat was organized and clean, he appreciated that mentally. He, deep down, was checking his long list ever since he met you, no one knew but Hannibal would like to share his luxurious life with someone and he had a long list, and whenever he met someone knew he would see if that person could tick all of the things in his list, you were doing great so far.

After making the hot wine you found yourself laughing at Hannibal’s stories with Will, you left your high heels on the floor, sitting on the couch whereas Hannibal was sitting on the armchair, sleeves rolled up, his tie was loose, legs wide open, holding his empty wine glass, you found yourself admiring his posture, he sat like a Greek statue, carved by the most talented sculptor of all time. He noticed your lingering shiny eyes on his body, he even liked it,

‘’Being desired by someone is perhaps the closest anybody in this life can reach to feeling immortal.’’

He said, his voice sounding like a prayer, divine and his eyes on yours… he slowly stood up, placed the empty glass on the coffee table, you could see the veins on his hand. He turned to you and got your glass as well, placed it next to his. His thick fingers went to your chin, lifting your face up to meet his. His orbs got darkened, he leaned in, you could feel his rich perfume, filling your nostrils. He whispered, ‘’I would like to have you for dinner, see you soon little dove.’’ and he left.

Of course he wanted to kiss you, ravish your body and leave marks on you, claiming his territory but there was still time for that. He was an old fashioned man and he didn’t have time for superficial things, he wanted this to be right. Before he let you speak he wore his shoes and left your flat and left you speechless.

After few days you got a phone call, Hannibal invited you for dinner at his house. What happened at your house few days ago troubled the depths of your mind every single day. He seemed like he was interested in you but you weren’t sure.

You knew he was interested in etiquette, aesthetics, so you wore slightly formal clothing. A black pencil skirt, beige blouse and high heels, soft make up and you were done.

When he answered the door his face light up to see you looking divine, ‘’Please come in. I have surprise to show you.’’ He announced.

He held your hand and walked you to the upstairs, ‘’This is my study room.’’ He announced before he opened the dark wooden door, inside was lit with yellow lights, he was right it was his study room. The detail was that the walls held your paintings… he was the one who bought your paintings, all of them.. ‘’Rest are in my office, my clients love them.’’ He said smiling to you, ‘’Hannibal… I don’t know what to say….’’ You were overwhelmed with emotions. ‘’I really like your work and I want you to follow your dreams.’’ You turned to look him in his maroon orbits, you didn’t have to say anything, your eyes did the talking.

After that you kept seeing each other, his work and also yours made it hard but whenever you had time you spent time with him. Bringing lunch to his office or Hannibal sending your studio presents. However, these last week you heard nothing from him, he wasn’t answering his phone, he wasn’t at his office, when you finally went to his home he wasn’t there, but his car was there… finally you called your cousin Will and he didn’t tell you much except Hannibal was involved with some crime and he disappeared. You couldn’t believe your ears, you did your research, he was all over the news but deep down you didn’t want to believe it. Also the news weren’t clear about his crimes…

Weeks passed without any news from him, you spent your days at the studio and you noticed how dark your paintings got… when you were with him you were blooming but now you felt as if life dropped you of somewhere and you are watching everyone live, except you. Your life got stale.

One day your paintings were accepted by an Italian art exhibition but you also had to be there as well, so packed your things and left Baltimore. Will also encouraged you to do it, he knew how depressed you got after Hannibal’s departure.

Italy was a dream, a dream you were glad to live it, the warmth, food and art made you feel like in a Disney movie but a part of you secretly wishing to experience this with a particular gentleman. You didn’t know your prayers were going to be answered.

The night of the exhibition you got a phone call, unknown number. You answered, ‘’Hello?’’ at first there wasn’t a voice, you were about to hang up but you heard him, ‘’I’m so proud of you Y/N.’’

Your heart dropped to your stomach, it was him. Hannibal.

‘’Hannibal? Where are you? What happ-‘’ he stopped you, ‘’Not on the phone, I’ll see you after the exhibition. Wait for me at the back.’’

The night felt like an eternity, when finally you were free you literally ran to the back of the building and there he was, on his motorbike, he looked so different yet familiar at the same time. ‘’Hop on princess.’’ He made you wear a helmet and together you rode. He took you to a villa, it was his new home.

You didn’t say anything until he brought you inside, as soon as he turned to face you to speak you slapped him, ‘’How dare you leave without a single note? I’ve been worried sick!’’

Hannibal was baffled to see this fierce side of you and he liked it. He kissed you. His plump lips made you feel at peace. Kiss got heated due to the fact that both of you had sexual tension for each other so long that now you were a volcano exploding. His hands went to your waist and pulled you roughly to him, his body felt like a rock, so firm. When you pulled away you were on his couch, on top of him, ‘’Is it true?’’ you asked out of breath, ‘’What?’’ he asked to buy some time. ‘’All they say about you.. are you a criminal?’’ you asked with hesitation. He had a smug smile, ‘’Does it matter?’’ his cockiness and confidence made it hard for you to be realistic but you figured as long as you two were together nothing could harm you. You kissed him passionately.

Thank you for reading.

[black-ak9]

Asking different questions of people because I'm bored. Day 1.

How do your vampires (Especially from "Hotel Transylvania") feel about art and culture?

Some of my headcanons about them is about them artistic part.

They love classical, baroque, romantic music, etc. It's from their time, of course. Why do you think they resurrected the zombies Mozart, Bach and Beethoven?🎻🎹❣️

The musical impact on humans was such that many monsters wanted to learn to play their works and continue their musical education. (Drac learned to play the violin, piano, ukelele, guitar and a little bit of cello + sing)(Martha learned to play the piano, a little bit of the violin + sing)(Mavis likes play the guitar and a bit of piano, bass + sing)✨

(Vlad... That man knows a little bit of everything about instruments, he just doesn't like to mention it, until suddenly he play the Devil's Sonata. LOL 🌟

Every vampire had at least once in his life a painting class, but most importantly: dance. Waltzing and dancing were famous and common. 💃

They enjoy some cultural traditions, as they find the human mind curious and how far they can go with their ✝️⚔️ like halloween, Samhain, Christmas but with Krampus, new year, Solstices (It depends on what country and beliefs they are)

They often believe that some human customs are absurd, so they just limit themselves to observing or ignoring them (such as some celebration of a saint)🦗

They even take the liberty of mixing some things up.

[scotianostra]

On March 3rd 1792, Robert Adam, the Scottish architect, furniture and interior designer, died.

Born in Fife in 1728, Robert was the second son of Mary Robertson and architect William Adam. Robert and older brother John trained with their father and John would take over the family practice after William’s death.

Robert was not the healthiest of children: illness would continually interrupt his education first at the Royal High School, Edinburgh, and later at the University of Edinburgh. Despite the gaps - and the arrival of Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobite rebellion – Robert Adam gained a solid grounding in the classics, logic, metaphysics, mathematics and anatomy.

Apprenticed to his father in 1746, Robert worked on major projects including Inverary Castle and Hopetoun House and in 1749 travelled to London, on the first of the journeys that would expand his architectural and design horizons.

Five years later he set off on the Grand Tour to Belgium, France and finally Rome, where he studied classical architecture and drawing under the great Piranesi, as well as familiarising himself with classical archaeology and art history. What he learned in Rome and how he applied that knowledge would underpin his future success.

Back home the country at that time was undergoing a surge of interest in classical architecture, prompted by the “Palladian” movement, named after the Renaissance architect Andrea Palladio, who tried to recreate the style and proportions of the buildings of ancient Rome. Adam built upon this momentum, but he soon evolved a style all his own that can best be described as “neo-classical”; light, elegant lines unbound by strict classical proportion.

In fact, Adam was something of a rebel against the Palladians, who insisted on following strict Roman lines and proportion. They copied; Adam innovated and experimented, and the result was a body of work that approached genius.

His first successes were the Admiralty Arch at Whitehall, and the interior apartments at Hatchlands. Adam was most often asked to remodel existing houses, so much of his work is interior. Of the exteriors for which he was responsible, Bowood House and the Admiralty Arch are the best surviving examples.

Adam was a success in part because he insisted on designing everything himself, down to the tiniest detail. The result is work that has a sense of overall unity, or flow. He moved beyond the Roman classical style and borrowed heavily from Greek, Byzantine, and Italian Baroque influences.

Robert Adam died in 1792 at the age of 64. Some of his work was replaced or remodelled as fashions in interior decoration changed over the next centuries, but enough remains that his legacy cannot be forgotten.

Arguably Adam’s most famous work is seen by many citizens and tourists alike, is The General Register House on the East end of Princes Street, Edinburgh, purpose built by Adam between 1774 and 1788 as the headquarters of the National Archives of Scotland.

This obituary appeared in the March 1792 edition of The Gentleman’s Magazine:…..

“…… Mr Adam produced a total change in the architecture of this country: and his fertile genius in elegant ornament was not confined to the decoration of buildings, but has been diffused to every branch of manufacture. His talents extend beyond the lie of his own profession: he displayed in his numerous drawings in landscape a luxuriance of composition, and an effect of light and shadow, which have scarcely been equalled…to the last period of his life, Mr Adam displayed an increasing vigour of genius and refinement of taste: for in the space of one year preceding his death, he designed eight great public works, besides twenty five private buildings, so various in their style, and so beautiful in their composition, that they have been allowed by the best judges, sufficient of themselves, to establish his fame unrivalled as an artist.”

The first pics are Robert Adam, second, The Adelphi ceiling is the only piece left from the drawing room of 5 Royal Terrace in the Adelphi, London, now in the V & A, London. second is Dumfries House and some of the plans, third is a favourite of mine, Pulteney Bridge is a bridge over the River Avon in Bath, fourth The Georgian House in Charlotte Square, Edinburgh, the fifth pic is Culzean Castle near Maybole, Carrick, in South Ayrshire, and finally the Drawing Room from Lansdowne House, London.

[xavierbautistagarcia]

The Belvedere twins

The history of Belvedere Palace goes back to the 17th century when the Prince Eugen of Savoy commissioned Baroque Architect Johann Lukas von Hildebrandt to build a summer residence. The construction works began in 1712, in what is today the Lower Belvedere (Unteres Belvedere), while the construction of Upper Belvedere (Oberes Belvedere) began in 1717. 

After 1716, the Lower Belvedere served as a dividing line between the city and the Baroque architectural complex. Besides the famous Marble Hall, as the central space in the Lower Belvedere, the building houses hard-won war trophies, statues of imprisoned opponents, and terraces and alcoves intended to provide optical illusions of architectural structures.

Prince Eugen commissioned Carlo Carlone, a pioneer of the Rococo style, to paint the fresco ceiling of another Marble Hall, but in the Upper Belvedere, the building that has achieved the most iconic image of the complex.

In 1718, Dominique Girard, a French garden architect was summoned for the construction of the Baroque Park due to his expertise in the design of the garden and water technology.

However soon after the Prince died in 1736, the museum was acquired by his niece, Maria Theresia, who converted the Upper Belvedere into one of the first public museums in the world. The interiors of this palace show off Alexander the Great's victories.

The Upper Belvedere also includes the largest collection of Gustav Klimt paintings in the world, as well as works by Oskar Kokoschka, Egon Schiele, Ferdinand Waldmuller, and other masters of the Austrian Art Nouveau movement, known as Sezession. In 1908, the Imperial Ministry of Culture acquired the Palace’s most renowned piece of Klimt, The Kiss (Der Kuss).

During World War II, the Belvedere Palace became severely damaged and had to undergo renovation. The latest addition to the Palace, the Belvedere 21 was built by the architect Karl Schwanze for the 1958 World’s Fair in Brussels.

[tanjaknezevic]

Trip to Vienna

Activity title: Trip to Vienna

Duration: 3 days (November 30th-December 2nd)

Type of activity: Creativity, Activity

Learning outcomes

Demonstrate engagement with issues of global significance.

Demonstrate that challenges have been undertaken, developing new skills in the process.

Demonstrate how to initiate and plan a CAS experience.

Activity description

Aleksej and I recently traveled to Vienna and visited numerous places that are important for art, science, and history. During our visit, we explored many tourist attractions including the Belvedere Palace, the Museum of Technology and Science, the Natural History Museum, and the History of Art Museum.

The Belvedere Palace, a Baroque masterpiece was one of the things that impressed us the most. We admired the beautiful architecture and the spectacular gallery inside the palace. Artist that surprised us the most was Gustav Klimt, especially his painting The Kiss. His techinque and his paintings were really impressive.

We also visited the Museum of Technology and Science, which surprised us with its interactive exhibits and its innovation corner which was mostly centered around biotechnology. The museum has exhibition of machines throughout history and it made us realize how much humans have developed. There was a special exhibition dedicated to the ethics of nuclear energy, which made us think about this global problem.

The Natural History Museum was another highlight of our trip, offering an insight in the natural world. Seeing exhibits of ancient fossils, gemstones, and reconstructed dinosaurs, we gained a deeper appreciation for the earth's history and biodiversity. The part which we enjoyed the most is the mineral section. The museum has a collection of gemstones from all over the world, which is really fascinating

Finally, our visit to the History of Art Museum was an opportunity to engage with the works of most famous artists such as Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Velázquez. The looks of the museum itself, with its brilliant architecture was an experience itself. This visit was a reminder of how art is the best expression of people's emotion throughout the history.

Through this trip, we were able to learn about different disciplines, from art to science. It was an amazing experience that not only widened our knowledge but also inspired us to think about our place in a world.

Reflection

Our trip to Vienna was an eye-opening experience. Visiting museums of different disciplines made us think about global issues we wouldn't have thought of before. Some of them are ethics of nuclear energy, how can people percieve art and biodiversity of our planet. Overall, this was an experience that we will remember for the rest of our lives.

[sleepingsongbird]

Alrighty so I’m finally getting around to writing some modern au One Piece fic so I figured I should probably share some background for it!

Everything is set in one giant city and I have put way too much thought into this

City is roughly split up between the “four emperors”

The Grand Line(NE-SW) is the main commercial street that runs through the center of the city where every large group has a front. It intersects Red Street(NW-SE) which divides the territories. The Hospital sits at the East corner of where the Grand line and red street intersect.

Big mom’s pastries

The Red Force bar - cocktail bar

Kids repair shop

The Amazon Lily - Boa Hancock’s strip club

Rayleigh is a legal consultant and the only piece of neutral territory on the grand line

Marinefold- the Town hall sits dead center of Red street

Lodge square - located in the center in front of city hall

Pacifista church - run by Kuma, large mega church

Etc.

The Heart territory is a couple blocks in the East side that spans from Law’s apartment to the employee entrance of the hospital

All of the Hearts work either at the hospital or the Heart Club

Hearts are highly territorial despite being in Red Hairs area

The Hearts have tattoos but no markings on their medical uniforms

The large hospital where Law works is neutral territory and pretty much every doctor/surgeon there is affiliated with a group

The white coats of the doctors each have the symbol of their affiliated group embroidered with white thread. Each major group has at least one doctor that is deemed safe to go to

Kaido is a Yakuza group and Kin'emon’s group is the remnants of the Kozuki clan that are trying to retake the territory

East side is Red Hair

Locations-

Baratie- restaurant Sanji works at and common meeting place of the Straw Hats

Water 7- Large mechanic shop, Franky uses one of the workshops there for personal projects and to repair their Van(The Sunny)

The Heart Club- A below ground nightclub owned by Law

Patty’s bar- Run by Makino and frequented by Shanks

Mihawk’s Dojo- Zoro frequently trains there

Elegia recordings - Run by Shanks and started to Publish his daughter’s music

Uta started as a streamer then starting doing live performances once her popularity grew, she is often out of the city on tour

She is a very active protester and has been arrested multiple times

Soul KIng - Music supply shop owned by brook

Brook who was a famous musician who faked his death and moved into town to avoid the publicity (still very recognizable)

The straw hats live friends style with 3 apartments on the same floor. They are the local menaces and are constant up in everyone’s business

North Side is Kaido

Locations

Onigashima- Formally called the Kozuki theater was taken over by Kaido and turned into a club. Run by Orochi but paid for by Kaido. The daughter of Oden works undercover as a dancer.

Oden restaurant - Named after the late boss of the Kozuki family is run by his friends and son, current front to the Kozuki Yakuza group

DonQuixote Inc. headquarters- Center of Doffy’s operations and front for the family

Dressrosa Casino - run by Doflamingo. Hosts fights at its arena. Formerly run by the Riku family, Viola Riku currently sits on the board.

Punk Labs- Caesar’s lab, Donquixote is their parent company. Was formally run by Vegapunk.

Cipher pol - Government intelligence. Has agents stationed in every region

-Local occult shop run by Hawkins. Perona works part time doing seances

West side is Big Mom

Locations

Germa 66 publishing company- a well known action comic publishing company owned and run by Sanji’s family

Thriller Bark - Haunted house run by Gecko Moria

Zoo - Run by a wildlife conservation group called Zou

Drum University Campus - known for its medical programs ​

South side is Whitebeard

Locations

Local Police station

Alabasta Gallery - an upscale art gallery. Formerly run by the Nefertari family has recently become a front for the Baroque Works gang run by Crocodile selling counterfeit art

The family heir Vivi is a curator trying to gain evidence to take down Crocodile and restore the Gallery to its former glory.

Museum - has previously bought works from the prestigious Alabasta gallery. Robin works as a curator and researcher there.

The yami - dive bar run by Blackbeard

The coast(East Coast)

Impel Down- High security prison located on an island off the coast

Enies Lobby- an old mansion island now used for major celebrity and political events

The big top - an amusement park and circus located on the boardwalk. Run by Buggy. Alvida runs the big top in his absence.

Buggy is the primary informant in the city and also works as a clown at the local hospital to cheer up the patients and gather information.

The Barto Club - a bar and exclusive club dedicated to the strawhats gang. Run by Bartolomeo. Invitation only.

The Polar Tang- Luxury Yacht that Is outfitted with a full medical infirmary owned by the Hearts

Outskirts

Cocoyasi orchards - citrus farm owned by Nami’s family run by Nojiko

Baltago Cafe - front for the revolutionary army, an anarchistic group opposing the government. Koala is their head barista. Militia operations run by Dragon. Sabo is a member.

Feel free to use this as inspiration or setting for any fanfic or art just tag me so I can check it out!

[goetiae]

Diana and Actaeon

This painting depicts a famous mythological narrative about the hunter Actaeon bursting in when Diana and her nymphs are bathing. It was created by the renown Italian painter Ercole Graziani (1688—1765) who is remembered as a great master of Baroque art that inspired many pupils during his work in Bologna and Piacenza.