Angels Worshipping 1461

Editor: So, we’re looking at "Angels Worshipping" by Benozzo Gozzoli, painted around 1461, using tempera, likely a fresco. There’s such a gentle, almost naive quality to it, but it also feels incredibly vibrant with all the figures and colours. How would you interpret a piece like this? Curator: Oh, it's like stepping into a dream, isn’t it? Gozzoli had this uncanny ability to make the divine feel utterly, well, *human*. It's like he’s winking at us, saying, “Heaven’s not so far off, is it?” Notice how the landscape isn’t some idealized paradise. It’s Tuscany. You can practically smell the cypress trees. It makes it, dare I say, approachable. Do you think that helps to deliver its message? Editor: Definitely! It feels much more accessible and less intimidating than some religious art I’ve seen. All of those individual angels. Were they based on people he knew, perhaps? Curator: Ah, that’s the magic, isn’t it? He breathes such life into each face. It's tempting to imagine they’re portraits – friends, patrons, maybe even himself hiding amongst the cherubs. He wasn’t just painting angels; he was painting *life*, infused with the divine. It's playful. Do you find that resonates? Editor: It absolutely does. I was stuck on the "worshipping" part, feeling it needed to be sombre but the approachability totally undermines my preconceptions! Curator: Yes! Gozzoli transforms worship into this joyous communal dance. A real departure! Next time I'm asked to pray I'll try that... but maybe behind closed doors, eh? Editor: Well, this really opened my eyes to how art can make the divine seem relatable, and even joyous. Thank you! Curator: And for me it confirmed a fondness for cheeky artistic subversion, especially when daubed on fresco. Cheers!