Look up to the heavens on most any night and you'll see the same moon our ancestors saw, still casting its glow down on us. In fact, due to tidal forces, we even see the same side of the moon all the time!
From ancient Egyptian deities to walking on the moon's surface, humanity's fascination with our satellite pervades cultures around the world. Scroll to see perspectives of the moon from throughout history.
This Egyptian pendant, currently residing at The Metropolitan Museum in New York, was created between 1295 and 1070 BCE. It depicts the moon god Khonsu as a falcon, wearing a headdress of the crescent moon and sun.
Almost 3000 years later, German artist Caspar David Friedrich painted this rendition of the same crescent moon. The captivating work is on display at the New Masters Gallery in Dresden, Germany.
This piece is the first of three versions by the artist, created in approximately 1819. The men in the painting are said to be the artist and his disciple August Heinrich.
Tsukioka Yoshitoshi was one of the last masters of ukiyo-e, a Japanese form of woodblock art. He created this piece in 1892 as part of his series One Hundred Aspects of the Moon. This print is on display at the Art Gallery of South Australia.
The gargantuan moon shines brightly low in the sky, just above the fox's head. Why does the moon appear larger when it's closer to the horizon? There are multiple hypotheses, from atmospheric refraction to an optical illusion due to relative size.
Thousands of miles away, French painter Henri Rousseau created a similar view of the moon in 1907. Relative to the other subjects in the piece, this moon looks much smaller than the one in Yoshitoshi's work.
On the ground, a flute-playing woman charms a snake. Many of Rousseau's other pieces also feature the full moon. Do you think it held any special significance to him?
Earth's lunar counterpart also plays a prominent role in Vincent Van Gogh's famous Starry Night. A yellow crescent moon hangs in the sky above the sleepy village, surrounded by a pale halo like the other celestial beacons.
The topography of Van Gogh's built-up brushstrokes is difficult to capture in two dimensions, but a closer view gives a detailed perspective of the swirling colors. To see the breathtaking texture in person, visit MoMA in New York City.
One of the most ubiquitous representations of the moon is that of the "Man in the Moon." The sea-like dark areas on the surface contribute to the illusion. This perpetual lunar calendar, which appears courtesy of the Adler Planetarium, was crafted in Germany circa 1700 CE.
John Adams Whipple and James Wallace Black produced this early photograph of the moon around 1860. How incredible it must have been for the average person to see the view through the largest telescope in the world.
In 1969, our perspective of the moon changed forever. For the first time, human beings broke free of our earthly confines and touched down on another world. This photograph shows our home planet from almost 240,000 away!
The personification of the moon has continued to be a theme in media, in spite of our accurate imagery. This iconic example appeared in French filmmaker Georges Méliès' Le Voyage dans la Lune.
Today, we even have photographs of the dark side of the moon. Can you imagine Galileo's reaction to this mind-blowing image?
Below, you can take a magnificent tour of the moon's splendor, captured in a video by NASA.
Frida Kahlo is one of Mexico's most celebrated artists, and one of art history's most recognizable figures. The artist herself, her life and her character, have fascinated as much as her art.
Many of her paintings explore her own conflicted Self, perhaps none more so than Self Portrait on the Borderline Between Mexico and the United States of America (1932). Here, you can take an audio tour of its many symbols and discover that there's more than meets the eye.
The painting is divided into two sections, Mexico and the US, meeting in the middle at the border. The Mexico side of the painting is a whirlwind of intense, elemental forces. The lonely moon clashes with the sun, causing lightning to strike.
Kahlo's sun breathes tongues of flame. It represents the welcome light of day, but is also a chaotic, destructive power. This image draws on the Aztec sun god, Tōnatiuh, and the face of the earth god, Tlaltecuhtli, who sometimes appeared at the centre of the sun with a sacrificial knife protruding from his mouth.
The clash of elemental forces has caused tremors, cracking the temple and sending rocks tumbling. Kahlo's depiction of her homeland is complex, natural, forceful. She holds a Mexican flag pointing down to the ground, identifying it as her home but drooping the flag ironically.
Though Kahlo paints Mexico as a raw zone of conflict, elemental and historical, it's also fertile and luscious. Here, the tumbling stone skull of the Dia de Muertos appears alongside Mexican fertility symbols. Beautiful foliage takes root and grows. Life and death are everywhere.
By contrast, the US half of the painting is defined by artificial, man-made industry. You can almost hear the noises of the high-rise city, the chimneys of Henry Ford's Detroit factory.
With her husband, the socialist painter Diego Rivera, Kahlo spent time in US cities from San Francisco to Detroit. Rivera championed workers, and his success as a muralist was a blessing and a curse to the couple. Kahlo had mixed feelings about the bustle of industrial America.
Though the painting is one of opposition, it's also one of balance and unity. The electrical cords from the American side fuse with the Mexican roots, plugging into the pedestal on which Kahlo stands, straddling the border. The inscription reads, ‘Carmen Rivera Painted Her Portrait 1932’. She uses her Christian name ‘Carmen’ and her husband’s surname as an ironic pose of propriety - such a name would have seemed comically ‘polite’ or inflated to Kahlo, almost statuesque.
The lighted cigarette and the inscrutable expression on Kahlo's face show her determination, self-possession, and sense of ironic distance amidst the noises all around.
The Mona Lisa is, in the words of one critic, "the best known, the most visited, the most written about, the most sung about, the most parodied work of art in the world." It's hard to argue with that, but how much do you really know about this unmistakable masterpiece?
Actually, there's at least four different versions painted by Leonardo da Vinci and his students. But the one we all know and love is at the Louvre Museum in Paris, France. The others can be found at the Prado Museum and in numerous private collections.
At the beginning of the 20th century, the Mona Lisa was actually relatively unknown. Until 1911, that is, when it was stolen from the Louvre. The high profile theft, and the appeals for its return, ironically helped publicise and popularise the painting.
The French poet Guillaume Apollinaire came under suspicion and was arrested and imprisoned. Apollinaire implicated his friend Pablo Picasso, who was brought in for questioning. Thankfully, the pair were soon cleared of all charges.
How much is the Mona Lisa worth? Well, it's recognised in the Guinness Book of Records as having the most expensive insurance policy in history, valued at $100 million in 1962, equivalent to $650 million in 2018. But, as the French aren't selling, it's literally priceless.
The painting depicts a woman sat in front of a mountainous landscape. Some have claimed the towering mountains show the influence of chinese artists, but it's thought by most to be the Val di Chiana, a valley in Tuscany.
If you look closely, you can see she's actually wearing a veil. Bruno Mottin, an expert at the Louvre, believes this is a guarnello, which was traditionally used by women while pregnant or just after giving birth.