http://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/what-to-see/charles-saatchis-masterpieces-goya-rewrote-rule-book-female/
Francisco Goya (1746‑1828) was born when Spanish art was at a low ebb. The genius of the 17th‑century master Velázquez had been followed by generations of anaemic mediocrity.
As a teenager, Goya liked to spend his time sketching in the fields near Saragossa. One day, a passing monk, reciting his breviary, stumbled across the young artist making charcoal drawings. Struck by Goya’s aptitude, he immediately asked the boy to take him to speak to his parents. It didn’t take long to persuade them that Goya should enter an apprenticeship with a prominent studio. In all possibility, that fortuitous meeting awakened the latent brilliance of the artist and ushered in a renaissance in Spanish painting.
Goya was an intensely keen observer of humanity, using his brush and pencil to tell the vivid stories of the people of Spain, and the restless life of the city. His representations of women were numerous and all-encompassing: covens of witches, beautiful maidens, mistresses of powerful men, milkmaids, gipsies. None of these was more notorious than Goya’s La Maja Desnuda, The Naked Maja.
In this painting, made between 1797-1800, Goya rejected the traditional, stoically frigid representations of the female nude. Instead, inspired by Titian’s audacious Venus of Urbino that had so horrified 16th-century Italy, Goya chose to abandon the suggestion that he was innocently portraying a goddess. He wanted anyone looking at his naked model to be fully aware that she was a woman of the lower classes, a maja, a person considered a commoner in Spanish society. This was no Divinity basking upon the canvas, rather a woman of the people with a highly sexualised, almost aggressive gaze, staring back at the viewer directly and provocatively.
Francisco Goya (1746‑1828) was born when Spanish art was at a low ebb. The genius of the 17th‑century master Velázquez had been followed by generations of anaemic mediocrity.
As a teenager, Goya liked to spend his time sketching in the fields near Saragossa. One day, a passing monk, reciting his breviary, stumbled across the young artist making charcoal drawings. Struck by Goya’s aptitude, he immediately asked the boy to take him to speak to his parents. It didn’t take long to persuade them that Goya should enter an apprenticeship with a prominent studio. In all possibility, that fortuitous meeting awakened the latent brilliance of the artist and ushered in a renaissance in Spanish painting.
Goya was an intensely keen observer of humanity, using his brush and pencil to tell the vivid stories of the people of Spain, and the restless life of the city. His representations of women were numerous and all-encompassing: covens of witches, beautiful maidens, mistresses of powerful men, milkmaids, gipsies. None of these was more notorious than Goya’s La Maja Desnuda, The Naked Maja.
In this painting, made between 1797-1800, Goya rejected the traditional, stoically frigid representations of the female nude. Instead, inspired by Titian’s audacious Venus of Urbino that had so horrified 16th-century Italy, Goya chose to abandon the suggestion that he was innocently portraying a goddess. He wanted anyone looking at his naked model to be fully aware that she was a woman of the lower classes, a maja, a person considered a commoner in Spanish society. This was no Divinity basking upon the canvas, rather a woman of the people with a highly sexualised, almost aggressive gaze, staring back at the viewer directly and provocatively.






