Angels Making Music c. 1650

Curator: Before us is Cornelis Schut’s “Angels Making Music,” an etching dating from around 1650, held at the Art Institute of Chicago. Editor: My immediate impression is of overwhelming joy, perhaps even ecstatic release, suggested by the sheer abundance of figures and instruments bursting forth. Curator: The composition, bifurcated almost rigidly, forces us to consider each ensemble distinctly, as visual fields delineated by an ethereal light. Note how the lower angels on either side serve as anchors, their darker forms grounding the upward swirl. Editor: And that upward swirl pulls the eye inexorably to the central source of light, a clearly divine radiance, around which all angelic activity is centered. It’s a classic Renaissance trope: music as a pathway to the divine. What instruments are identifiable beyond the lute? Curator: Trumpets and stringed instruments dominate, but observe too, how the print’s cross-hatching technique modulates, almost like sonic layers emanating from the angels, thickening toward the base, lightening at the divine apex. Editor: One notices recurring iconography: halos, of course, and the purposeful juxtaposition of adult and child angels. What resonates most powerfully is music-making’s timelessness, transcending specific eras. Schut captures this universality expertly. These symbols are accessible still. Curator: Accessible precisely due to Schut's adept management of space and light within the relatively constrained medium of etching. The clarity, even within the complex arrangement of figures, allows a modern viewer to grasp its thematic content without strain. Editor: Thinking about continuity, it feels almost cyclical, the visual echo from baroque ceilings in a modern gallery space—art mimicking art, a shared lexicon. Curator: Precisely, a lexicon constructed on shared compositional devices and enduring symbols. It creates a powerful resonance. Editor: An echo, perhaps, that allows these musical angels to resonate even now.