I am an art historian and the Assistant Curator for European Painting and Sculpture at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), with expertise in Renaissance art and architecture, Venetian history, and the relationship between art and ecology.
I received my undergraduate degree from Harvard, a Masters in Art History and Archaeology from NYU, and my PhD in Art History from UCLA. I am also a recovering corporate and securities lawyer. When in Venice, my partner and I share an apartment on Campo San Barnaba with our two French bulldogs, Otto and Fritz!
Co-curator (with Leah Lehmbeck), Collecting Impressionism (December 21, 2025 to January 3, 2027, LACMA)
The best way to reach me is by text or on WhatsApp at +1-646-244-9178, or by email at dbardeen@lacma.org
In an intarsia panel in Lombardy (c. 1520), a skull rests on a cupboard shelf, its crown festooned with laurel leaves. The portion of the skull behind the eye — the temporis os or "bone of time" — is mottled with wormholes and pockmarks, underscoring the symbolic import of the momento mori, a reminder of the fragility of life and the fate of human flesh. On the wall behind are pronounced vertical grains, each one a tree ring that corresponds to a human and arboreal year. And around the crown of the skull, wood infected with a green-staining fungus has been used to depict laurel leaves; fungal stains are far more permanent than artificial pastes or pigments, appropriate for a laurel leaf, symbol of eternal youth and beauty. The panel breathes with an arboreal intelligence, asserting correspondences between the growth and decay of trees and the weighty questions of human life, death and rebirth that were pondered in the choir precincts, sacristies and private rooms where intarsia panels were installed.
My book argues that intarsia makers' inventive engagements with wood provoked new ways of thinking about the human relationship to forests, trees and plant life. From the mid-fifteenth to early-sixteenth centuries, intarsia panels formed the backdrop for spiritual practice and everyday life, and intarsia makers were key participants in networks of architects, sculptors, and painters. Presenting new visual and material evidence, much of it gathered outside of Italy's traditional artistic centers, I show how the knowledge and expertise developed by intarsia makers spurred innovations in other art forms, especially painting, encouraging early modern Italians to think about human life, death and rebirth in distinctly arboreal terms.
While elusive, woodworms and other worm-like creatures were pervasive in early modern European art, eating their way through woodblock prints and sculpture, canvas supports and book and manuscript pages, leaving elaborate designs (and excrement) in their wake. They also meander conceptually through the spiritual and philosophical terrain of literature and thought: as agents of evil, models of redemption, or, paradoxically, proxies for the divine. Prior studies have treated these creatures as conservation issues, to be neutralized or eradicated, but precisely because they are disruptive, worms (including beetles and moths in their larval form) draw attention to processes of growth, transformation and world-making…
Selected articles, essays, and forthcoming books
Beginning in the mid-fifteenth century, intarsia (from the Italian "intarsiare" – to inlay) emerged as one of the most important art forms in central and northern Italy. Composed of hundreds of pieces of wood in various colors, textures and tonalities, intarsia panels furnished some of Italy's most important sacred and secular spaces, including the Duomo in Florence, the Santo in Padua, and the studiolo of the Duke of Montefeltro in Urbino. Giorgio Vasari, writing when intarsia was on the wane, famously criticized intarsia's fragility and susceptibility to worms, conditioning centuries of art historians to downplay its importance. My book argues that it was precisely intarsia's organicity – its ecological embeddedness – that contributed to its long-term significance, and links intarsia to painting through a shared interest in trees, wood, and arboreal processes.
While elusive, woodworms and other worm-like creatures were pervasive in early modern European art, eating their way through woodblock prints and sculpture, canvas supports and book and manuscript pages, leaving elaborate designs (and excrement) in their wake. They also meander conceptually through the spiritual and philosophical terrain of literature and thought: as agents of evil, models of redemption, or, paradoxically, proxies for the divine. Prior studies have treated these creatures as conservation issues, to be neutralized or eradicated, but precisely because they are disruptive, worms (including beetles and moths in their larval form) draw attention to processes of growth, transformation and world-making. Drawing on visual and textual evidence and material encounters by conservators, my paper investigates how the proliferation of new artistic practices and technologies foregrounded the life cycle of worms and bugs, reshaping the human understanding self, earth and cosmos.
In April 1503, Cima da Conegliano completed a painting on panel for the Altar of the Cross in the Church of San Giovanni in Bragora. The painting, since moved to a position to the right of the door to the sacristy, depicts Emperor Constantine and Saint Helena on either side of an expansive Cross, and in the background a sweeping landscape reminiscent of the hills north of Venice. Prior scholarship has examined the picture's patronage, history and iconography, but my focus is the Cross itself, which draws attention to the wood grain and to the swirling patterns on its surface. I consider the significance of wood in Cima's painting not only as an object of representation, but as a material with important economic and spiritual significance to the devotional community of San Giovanni in Bragora. Together with Cima's Baptism of Christ on the high altar, the painting enlists trees, wood and arboreal processes to explicate Christian themes of death and resurrection and theological questions involving vision and touch. Cima employed a poetry of trees and wood at a time when arboreal resources were top of mind for Venetians whose livelihoods were connected to the supply of timber.
Tree stumps have long been recognized as potent symbols of Christian death and resurrection, but Italian painters in the late fifteenth-century depicted stumps with peculiar and intriguing details: beetles and birds, fungi and lichens, and severed branches that spew blood. Recent studies in the humanities and natural sciences have drawn attention to the philosophical importance of vegetal life in the early modern period: how plants shaped notions of the cosmos, the perpetuity of life, and even the idea of form itself. While much of the attention has focused on trees and plants, it is stumps, the rooted remnants of trees that have been blown down, rotted or cut, they have an exceptional power to provoke. They have the physical properties of trees — trunks, roots and branches — but also display their innards: layers of sapwood, heartwood, and pith. They bear traces of violence, figure the world and spatialize time. Drawing on visual and textual evidence, including land management documents, anatomical drawings, and spiritual and poetic literature, I demonstrate how environmental pressures brought stumps to the fore and how Italian painters engaged with stumps in a "bio-semiotic" discourse to parse the relationship between human and vegetal life.
Long admired for their illusionistic images, Italian intarsia panels also foregrounded the biological and ecological properties of wood, incorporating its filaments, fungal infections, and even woodworm pathways into depictions of landscapes, still lifes, and saintly figures. Drawing on visual, material, and textual evidence, much of it produced outside of Italy's traditional artistic centers, I show how Italian intarsia makers were designing from wood, provoking new ways of thinking about the human relationship to the arboreal world.
Lectures, symposia, and public presentations
For speaking inquiries, please contact me at dbardeen@lacma.org.