Sleeping Apollo, Muses and Fama 1549

Editor: Here we have Lorenzo Lotto's "Sleeping Apollo, Muses and Fama," an oil painting from 1549. There’s something so dreamlike about it…a kind of Renaissance Arcadia interrupted. What do you make of this scene? Curator: You know, that "interrupted" feeling is key for me. Lotto’s vision of antiquity isn't one of stoic grandeur, but something altogether more intimate, more... troubled, shall we say? There’s a languidness in Apollo’s pose, almost a melancholy. See how Fama, Fame, strains to announce him, as the Muses cavort with some degree of… un-inspiration? It makes you wonder, what troubles a god? Editor: It’s definitely not the usual heroic portrayal we associate with Renaissance art! Why place him amidst what seems to be his discarded garments and strewn-about books? Curator: Ah, the clothing and books... It makes me think that Lotto is exploring the weight of creative pursuits and that Apollo is perhaps experiencing the fatigue that attends creative labor and inspiration. It’s as if the trappings of his divinity – his symbolic authority – are shed as he struggles to renew his powers. Do you see it? Editor: Yes, definitely. And to link it with contemporary views, you almost read the Muses, here, as 'out of office.' As if they cannot always, in the painter's time, simply arrive at someone's calling! Curator: Exactly! I believe there’s an attempt by Lotto to blend a mythological depiction with human experience, and an implication that genius requires space and that renewal isn’t only an imperative; perhaps it's a chore. Editor: I'd never considered the pressures facing even the divine. This has opened my eyes to seeing art of the era with a more personal understanding. Curator: Indeed! Lotto has definitely helped me appreciate the humanity, and dare I say mortality, that even the Gods must contend with when answering to their callings.