Apples are a popular motif in art and have been depicted throughout the ages. Photo: Henri Matisse: Bowl of apples on a table, Public domain, via: Wikimedia Commons

Apples are a popular motif in art and have been depicted throughout the ages.
Photo: Henri Matisse: Bowl of apples on a table, Public domain, via: Wikimedia Commons

The apple in art is one of the most enduring and complex pictorial motifs in European cultural history. Hardly any other natural object has been so consistently charged with knowledge, seduction, power and transience over the centuries, while at the same time remaining an object that can be experienced in everyday life. It is precisely this combination of simple form, clear recognizability and symbolic openness that makes the apple an ideal carrier of complex meanings to this day.

Whether round, shiny, bitten into or already rotting – we encounter the apple in countless variations throughout art history, from medieval panel paintings to surrealist and conceptual modernist works. As an everyday fruit, it is immediately identifiable for viewers, but its interpretation remains deliberately open. The apple thus developed early on into a visual code with which religious, mythological and later also social content could be conveyed.

In the Western pictorial tradition, the apple is closely associated with the biblical story of Adam and Eve, although the Bible itself does not mention any specific fruit. Over the course of the Middle Ages, the apple became established in Latin and vernacular interpretation as a typical symbol of the Fall of Man – partly due to the word proximity of “malum” (apple) and “malum” (evil) in Latin. In Albrecht Dürer’s copperplate engraving “Adam and Eve” from 1504, for example, the serpent hands Eve a fruit while Eve holds another fruit in her hand; here the apple stands for knowledge, guilt and the loss of paradisiacal innocence, but also for physical beauty and ideal proportions.
The fruit also plays a central role in ancient mythology. The golden apple of Eris, which triggers the Trojan War through the goddesses’ beauty contest, stands for competition, seduction and power. Baroque artists such as Peter Paul Rubens take up this motif in depictions of the “Judgement of Paris”, in which Paris presents Venus with the golden apple, thus making the mythical conflict visible. Here, the apple appears less as a natural object and more as a condensed carrier of cultural meaning, touching on virtue, hubris and politically understood questions of power.

With the emergence of still life painting in the 17th century, the apple experienced a new appreciation as a component of splendor and vanitas still lifes, particularly in the Dutch and Flemish regions. In vanitas compositions, it is often shown together with skulls, hourglasses, extinguished candles or wilting flowers; fresh, shiny skin and the onset of decay refer to the transience of the earthly and the seduction of material goods. The meaning thus shifted from the moral and didactic content of the image to subtle, often sensually staged symbols in a domestic context.
In the 19th century, the apple was increasingly detached from explicitly religious meanings and became a preferred motif for artistic self-reflection. Paul Cézanne made it a central element of his still lifes; in numerous works, including “Still Life with Apples” (MoMA, around 1895-1898) and “Still Life with Apples” (J. Paul Getty Museum, 1893-1894), he used the simple form of the fruit to examine questions of volume, space and pictorial composition. Cézanne programmatically formulated that he wanted to “conquer Paris with an apple” – his apple still lifes are therefore still considered key works of modern painting today.
Other modern artists also took up the motif. In still lifes such as “Apples” (Paris 1887) and “Basket with Apples”, Vincent van Gogh experimented with intense color contrasts, restless brushwork and deliberately problematic perspective in order to heighten the tension between perception and painting. Henri Matisse, on the other hand, uses the round shape of the fruit in works such as “Apples” (1916, Art Institute of Chicago) and “Still Life with Apples on Pink Tablecloth” (1924, National Gallery of Art, Washington) to develop two-dimensional color chords, decorative patterns and a tense relationship between figure and ground. The apple thus loses its clear symbolism and gains a largely autonomous, formal-aesthetic significance.

In the 20th century, the apple was increasingly used ironically, surreally or conceptually. René Magritte’s painting “Le fils de l’homme” (“The Son of Man”, 1964) shows a figure in a suit whose face is covered by a floating green apple; the work plays with religious and everyday allusions and at the same time addresses the relationship between visibility and concealment. Here, the apple becomes a symbol of the hidden and the impossibility of complete knowledge – everything is before our eyes and yet remains partially hidden.
In contemporary art, the apple frequently appears in installation, film or performance contexts, often in the field of tension between consumer culture, physicality and ecological issues. Artists such as Pipilotti Rist incorporate everyday objects and fruit into immersive video installations in order to address perception, desire and the vulnerability of the body, even if in her work the apple is more of a variable motif than an iconographic one. Although conceptual artists such as Felix Gonzalez-Torres prefer to work with sweets, stacks of paper or fairy lights, his use of perishable, consumable materials is closely related to artistic strategies in which fruit – including apples – stands for ephemeral, collectively shareable experience.
At the same time, ecological discourses have recently become intertwined with digital symbolism. The apple can allude to topics such as sustainable agriculture and resource consumption as well as the globally known apple silhouette of a technology company, which circulates in design, media art and advertising as a cipher for innovation, knowledge and seductive technology. This expands the field of meaning of the motif beyond classical painting into areas of communication design, media images and brand aesthetics.

The apple also remains a striking motif outside of classic visual media. In graphic design, poster art, film and pop culture, it often functions as a symbol of knowledge, health, youth, innovation or erotic seduction, unconsciously drawing on biblical and mythological traditions. The long iconographic history – from the apple of Eve and the orb as a symbol of power to vanitas still lifes and modern still life experiments – forms the resonance space in which these current images are read.
In the end, it becomes clear that the apple in art is far more than just a decorative still life motif. Its versatility allows artists of all eras to reformulate timeless themes such as guilt and redemption, desire and transience, power and knowledge time and again. It is precisely in its apparent simplicity that the particular strength of this motif lies, which also offers scope for new, cross-media interpretations in the future.

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE

Change management – important or not?

Building design

designed by Freepik)

Change management is not yet a major issue for landscape architects and planners. An overview of the challenges and opportunities.

“Counterfeiting is a systemic problem” – Interview with Hubertus Butin

Building design
Art historian, art theorist, publicist and curator Hubertus Butin. Photo: © Christiane Haid, Berlin

Art historian, art theorist, publicist and curator Hubertus Butin. Photo: © Christiane Haid, Berlin

Hubertus Butin is an art historian, art theorist, publicist and curator. In the 1990s, he worked in Gerhard Richter’s studio in Cologne and published his catalog raisonné of editions in 2014. Today, he works as an appraiser for Richter’s works and is an expert on forgeries. RESTAURO spoke to him about his experiences

Hubertus Butin is an art historian, art theorist, publicist and curator. In the 1990s, he worked in Gerhard Richter’s studio in Cologne and published his catalog raisonné of editions in 2014. Today, he works as an expert on Gerhard Richter’s works and is an expert on forgeries. RESTAURO spoke to him about his experiences

RESTAURO: Mr Butin, how did you come to specialize in this field?

There is no other artist about whom I have published as much as I have about Gerhard Richter. If you are also the author of one of his catalogs raisonnés, it seems obvious that as an expert you should write expert reports on behalf of private collections, art dealers, auction houses, museums and investigating authorities. This is because authors of catalogs raisonnés usually not only have theoretical expertise, but also in-depth knowledge of objects.

Restauro: Can you name a particularly spectacular case that you helped to clarify? How did you proceed?

Hubertus Butin. A fraudster had come up with a clever provenance story by writing the following dedication on the back of a monochrome gray oil painting that is not in the catalog raisonné: “For Armin (K 20)”. This led the Berlin dealers, through whose hands the painting passed in 2005, to believe that it was a personal gift from Gerhard Richter to Professor Armin Zweite, the former director of the Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen in Düsseldorf. But when I asked Armin Zweite, he said he knew nothing about this dubious gift. In fact, the painting was a complete forgery. Today, the painting with its supposedly respectable past is in the possession of a collector in Vancouver, who acquired it in 2006 for a large sum as a supposed original. Both a simple provenance search and a stylistic examination of the painting confirmed the fraud.

RESTAURO: Not all fakes are clever. Can you give us an example of a particularly brazen forgery?

Hubertus Butin: A forger who tried to sell oil paintings on cardboard as works by Gerhard Richter via various auction houses from 2008 onwards was particularly criminally energetic. The paintings were confiscated by the police, and Richter himself wrote an expert report in which he clearly classified the works as forgeries. Proceedings were opened against the alleged perpetrator, and the expert report was then handed over by the police to the Düsseldorf public prosecutor’s office. There, either the forger himself or his lawyer stole this expert opinion during a file inspection and reproduced it using a copying machine. The forger then manipulated the document with the artist’s original signature in such a way that the letter now appeared to be a confirmation of authenticity, which the fraudster then used for further offers to sell a new series of abstract oil paintings. This case illustrates very clearly that fraudsters not only forge or falsify works of art, but sometimes also written documents such as certificates of authenticity, which are then used as a tool to sell the forgeries.

Restauro: In 2019, a forged oil painting in the style of Gerhard Richter appeared at Christie’s in New York. Were you consulted as an expert in this forgery case, in which the then Berlin gallery Michael Schultz was involved?

Yes, I was asked to examine the painting at the Berlin State Criminal Police Office. At first glance, it appeared to be the colored oil painting “Abstraktes Bild” by Gerhard Richter from 1989 with the catalogue raisonné number 705-2, but a close comparison with the illustration in the catalog raisonné of the paintings, written by Dietmar Elger, quickly revealed that it was a copy, a so-called forgery. This was very surprising, as Richter usually creates his abstract paintings with a squeegee, and such works cannot be exactly repeated. With this long, narrow strip of Plexiglas, the artist can create streaky color structures that cannot be precisely calculated and thus deliberately incorporate chance. Although it is impossible to copy this painting process, the forger has attempted to do just that. He succeeded to some extent with the colors and the composition, but inevitably failed in the details.
A simple examination of the material then revealed further evidence. Among other things, the back of the wooden stretcher frame, to which the canvas is attached with staples, was conspicuous. The stretcher frame was stamped with the FSC seal by its manufacturer. This stamp in the form of a stylized tree is intended to indicate that wood from ecologically sustainable forestry has been used. However, as the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) organization based in Bonn was only founded in 1993, the stretcher frame and the painting could not have been made in 1989. And there was nothing to suggest that the stretcher and the staples had been renewed at a later date. The forger also tried to remove the stamped batch number with a chisel, but was not completely successful. There is no reason for an artist to make this numbering disappear, but there is for a fraudster. Because this number can be used to determine the year of production of the stretcher frame.

The interview was conducted by Dr. Inge Pett.

Read more in RESTAURO 5/2023, this special issue deals with “Original and reproduction”.