Caneletto (1697-1768) was prolific, producing many paintings of important places (especially his native Venice), as well as numerous drawings and some etchings. His paintings are incredibly detailed, technically superb, and in many cases absolutely beautiful. I showed one of his oil paintings a few weeks ago. The subject of that painting was the Grand Canal–one of the largest and most famous of Venice’s waterways, and one which he consequently painted many times in many variations– from different angles, at different times of day, and so on.
Today I am displaying two paintings of the same portion of the grand canal, at the church of Santa Maria della Carita, painted from almost the same angle. The first–entitled “Grand Canal from the Santa Maria della Carita to the Bacino San Marco”–was painted during full daylight on a pretty sunny day. There are a few shadows, painted carefully, feeling very accurate. It’s a pretty cheery scene–tourist photo or picture postcard style.
Now compare this to “The Grand Canal near Santa Maria della Carita” (very similar titles).
An overcast day, nearing sundown perhaps? The shadows here convey a vague sense of menace or sadness. It’s not just the shadows falling on the church itself (foreground right)–it’s also those on the buildings on the left bank of the canal, and the color and texture of the sky. It’s remarkable how much enjoyment I derive from looking at multiple pictures of the same scene–the pictorial equivalent of the musical variations on a theme.