They’ve delivered quite a performance, those curtains. In real life and in art. Time to call them back for a bit of applause. They divide rooms, shelter from the cold, keep out the light, let in the light, soften the light. They assure privacy, they hide and they reveal. Iron curtains divide nations, velvet curtains enhance the stage, netted curtains keep mosquitos at bay.   They’ve been used since antiquity and adapted to each historical time, from simple woven linen and wool in 17th century European homes to the pomp around the Rococo period where velvet and silk ruled, particularly around canopy beds (or so tells me the encyclopedia brittanica http://www.britannica.com/topic/curtain-interior-decoration.)

If you search for painted curtains in an effort to find good art, you get a zillion ads for painted shower curtains, van Gogh’s Starry Night seemingly one of the favorites. But I lucked out by finding a wonderful collection of classical paintings here http://www.apollo-magazine.com/drawing-the-curtain/. Moreover I learned a lot from the art historian’s evaluation of the role of curtains in painting. What stuck with me most is the fact that the painted curtain is a divide between the content of the painting and the viewer, being part of both worlds, covering and uncovering, inviting exploration while interposing. For today’s classical painting I chose William Larkin (early 1580s – 1619) who painted the court of James I in England, and was know as The Curtainmaster. Almost every one of his portraits was framed in curtains, of varying colors and materials, and although the paintings seem flat overall, the folds and fluidity of the drapery is impressive.

And let’s not forget all those who have to wash, starch and iron those curtains….