User reviews

Watching this film is a virtual art course in itself. Tim Jenison takes us on a search for the secrets of Dutch artist Vermeer's tremendous use of light in his art work. He researches early applications of the so called camera obscura and the use of lenses. He comes up with a possible theory of how Vermeer painted and then gets to work confirming his theory. His first test is a simple mirror reflecting an object onto a canvas. He experiments with this and confirms his thesis. He then decides to apply his model to recreating one of Vermeer's masterpieces. The outcome is sensational. The movie shows all the various constructional aspects, which as an engineer I really love. I kept wanting to get up out of my seat and start building a similar model. The detail which he went to in order to recreate the scene of the painting was astounding.

What exactly is the relationship between science and art? Are they entirely separate domains or is there, Venn-diagram-like, some overlap between them?

The 17th Century Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer has long been considered the world's master of the "photographic" painting. So lifelike, in fact, are Vermeer's works that it has long been speculated that he may have used some kind of scientific device available at the time to help him achieve the effect. Well, filmmaker Penn Jillette, with the help of Tim Jenson - an inventor, NOT a painter - has decided to get to the bottom of the controversy. The result is "Tim's Vermeer," a brief (76 minutes), fast-paced and utterly absorbing documentary that provides an aesthetic and intellectual feast for art and science lovers alike.

Since this IS Penn Jillette we're talking about here - an illusionist who is also a tireless advocate for rationalism and empiricism - it's fitting that the movie would apply scientific precepts to its analysis of art. Tim hypothesizes that Vermeer may have used a device called a camera obscura combined with a small portable mirror to achieve an unprecedented verisimilitude in his paintings. It's pure speculation, since Vermeer left no notes behind documenting his creative and technical process. So Tim has decided to paint his own "Vermeer" using the technique he postulates the artist himself used, and to document that process on film.

To that end, Tim has chosen Vermeer's "The Music Lesson" as his subject to copy, going so far as to recreate the room, along with the people and objects contained therein, of the original painting down to the smallest detail, only utilizing (and even crafting, if necessary) lenses, mirrors, lighting and paints that were in existence in the 1600s. It is a project that would take five full years to complete.

If Vermeer did indeed use these optic "tricks" to achieve his effect, does that somehow diminish him as an artist? Does it make his skill as a painter less astonishing, even if it heightens his ingenuity as an inventor and problem-solver? Probably no more so than a second-rate painter being able to replicate (i.e., "forge") any art masterpiece diminishes the talent of the original artist. And why would it be considered "cheating" for an artist to incorporate all the technological devices available to him at the time to help him in his painting? Why must there exist an arbitrary and artificial dividing line between science and art? These are the questions that Teller's fascinating little movie brings to the fore.

But isn't it better just to keep it all as a mystery, to declare Vermeer an artistic genius of the first rank and leave it at that? Perhaps, but then we wouldn't have "Tim's Vermeer" to inspire and engage us.

The Penn and Teller imprint makes sense, as this is in part a magic trick. It's also one hell of a documentary, a detective story, an art history lesson, a science project and I don't know, a baby's arm holding an apple? Watched it with my 11 year old twin boys, who've come across Penn & Teller before, but like me they were captivated by Tim. His matter-of-fact approach, and a wizened kindness that is there along with his obsessive engineering mind made him a great character on the screen.

And probably a pretty decent person in real-life. It's nice that he has had enough commercial success in life that he can spend time rather than money, but even he questions the depths of his obsession. (Good thing they had decided to film this early on, as he admits to the camera.) He's certainly a do-er, and to us lazy mere thinkers, that's always impressive to see in action.

"Tim's Vermeer" (2-13 release; 80 min.) brings the story of Tim Jenison, an inventor who has amassed a small fortune over his life time and now has become fascinated (obsessed may be the better word) with the 17th century Dutch master painter Johannes Vermeer. Tim examines in particular Vermeer's painting "The Music Lesson", which has an astonishing amount of details in it. Tim eventually comes to the conclusion that Vermeer used a variety of optical devices (mirrors, camera obscura, lenses), and to test his theory, he decides to recreate "The Music Lesson" from scratch, even though he is not a skilled painter by any means. To tell you more would ruin your viewing experience, you'll just have to see for yourself how it all plays out.

Couple of comments: first, this documentary is made (and narrated) by Penn, he of Penn & Teller. Turns out that Penn and Tim have known each other for many years, and it's easy to see why this particular topic would have peaked Penn's interest enough to make it into a documentary. Second, the feeling of the documentary is pretty much one of a crime caper, in that we get to find out in detail how Tim goes about testing his various theories and his recreation of "The Music Lesson". Third, if you don't care for art, in particular painting, save yourself the trouble and catch another movie, as obviously the entire 'raison d'être' of the documentary is the making of a painting. At some point during his recreation of the painting, Tim gives an exhausted look towards the camera and sighs "it's like watching paint dry", much to the delight of the theater's crowd, which exploded in laughter. Last but not least, there is a nice soundtrack to this movie, composed by Conrad Pope and I've made a mental note to myself to check that out as well. (Bob Dylan's "When I Paint My Masterpiece" plays over the documentary's closing credits, an obvious but nice choice.)

I saw this documentary this past weekend at the Landmark E Street Cinema and the early evening screening I saw this at was absolutely PACKED, which I think is great news. Facts always trump fiction, reason why I love a good documentary more than anything. If you are interested in art and you marvel at how Vermeer might've created some of his best work, you will absolutely love this. "Tim's Vermeer" is absolutely worth checking out, be it in the theater or on DVD. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

If you, like me, enjoy technology and creativity. This is a must see Documentary about a man who set off to make a 'Vermeer'. With no particular skills, but with time and money to spend, he reinvented and discovered the Artist's way. For me the 'revealing' of Vermeer was far from a disappointment. Instead for me it brings Vermeer straight into the age of Enlightenment.

Art, at it's best for me is always a combination of smart and ingenious, it has to do with craftsmanship, with guts and persistence and a bit of Eureka. During the Age of Enlightenment in the Netherlands of the 17th Century, the two disciplines - Science and Art - just had to meet. As Jenison points out in the Documentary, this is exactly what happened here. But maybe there is even more..

Born in 1632, Vermeer shares the same birth year with another famous man called Baruch Spinoza. Spinoza worked in The Hague, a city that is only a stone throw away from Delft, which being the city where Johannes Vermeer lived, worked and died.

As Tim Jenison so brilliantly shows, lenses and mirrors play an important role in the work of Vermeer. Not only on his paintings, but also in the way he produced these paintings.

Wouldn't it be a great thought that Baruch Spinoza, who worked as a lens maker for a living, contributed as such to the paintings of Johannes Vermeer. Maybe they even talked about light, perspective and geometry during the tedious grinding of the lens. And that picture just made my day :-)

As a lifelong draw-er, painter and former professional visual artist, I have absolutely no problem with the idea that Vermeer used optical tools to create his masterpieces. Invention is creation every bit as much as art (maybe more). It does not diminish Vemeer's "genius" to think of him as more 'tinkerer' than virtuoso, it just redirects it a bit. I have to admit that before watching this film I had not given much thought to the tools that Vemeer may have used, other than assuming that camera obscura was employed at some point. After considering the level of detail involved, and the lighting intricacies that he so aptly caught, it seems entirely reasonable (but not proved) to believe that other assists were involved as well.

The one thing the film overlooks, and the reason I didn't give it 10 stars, was that Vemeer no doubt possessed tremendous drawing ability and training in other traditional skills which Tim did not. Such skills would have enabled him to bridge the gap between human camera and inexplicable genius. For example, he would have inherently caught things like broken perspective early on, and he would have wielded his tools with emotion and insight which Tim did not possess. He was, at heart, a true artist, and much more than just an eccentric millionaire with an odd hobby. So the answer to which tools he used, as interesting as it is to think about, is really little more than a bit of trivia. Because it doesn't matter if it's optics or inspiration, mechanics or expression, in the end if it's interesting to look at if it moves people, then it's great art.

This is a fascinating, laid-back look at one man's obsession in figuring out how Vermeer painted so realistically. Whether his conclusion is accurate or not is irrelevant: the film is worth watching to trace his obsessive journey to find "the truth". There is humour in this film and a wonderful cameo from English painter David Hockney. The film has a bit of a home movie feel to it: producer and director Penn & Teller obviously knew Tim Jenison, the movie's subject, and decided his quirky story was worth telling. The film is enhanced by a charming yet unobtrusive musical score, primarily flute and piano.

You know when people tell you to 'follow your dream'? This guy did and entertained us along the way.

Tim's Vermeer is a wonderfully entertaining story about personal passion and obsession and the crossroads where technology and art meet rather than stay apart from each other, a concept that some fear to be anecdotal in the analysis and appreciation for art. The film focuses on Tim Jenison, an accomplished inventor and founder of the hardware/software company NewTek, who has grown to become increasingly fascinated with the works of Dutch Golden Age painter Johannes Vermeer. Vermeer is one of the most subversive painters in history, with many art critics and scholars citing him as the greatest painter of all time. Vermeer's paintings have taken on a life of their own in recent time because of the beauty they bear in terms of lighting and clarity, in an era where cameras didn't exist. His techniques and even his personal life are still largely a mystery today, and Tim's Vermeer shows that one man may have an idea how he did it all.

Tim proposes the idea that, as unique as it would've been for Vermeer to walk up to a blank canvas and begin painting the photo-realistic paintings he became known for, some technology, even as primitive as it could be classified, had to be involved. Narrator Penn Jillette of the magician duo Penn & Teller (with Teller serving as the documentary's director) tells us of a device known as "camera obscura," which is Dutch for "dark room." The device is a box that could be of any size - from as small as a shoebox to as big as being able to house a person inside - that would have a small hole drilled in it to fit a circular lens inside. It would project whatever was outside of the box into the dark interior of the box in an upside down, backwards state; one would curve the lens to reposition and resize the subject inside the box.

Tim believes that, despite the device being common during the time, it would've been difficult for Vermeer to paint something as deep and intricate as what he did on a small-scale canvas or in a room of little light. What he manages to create is his own kind of "camera obscura," with mirrors and lenses that have the same sort of basic imperfections, shortcomings, but in addition, wondrous advances as Vermeer could've dealt with in 17th Century Dutch. Confident after speaking to art curators and professionals that share his feelings that he's on to something remarkable, Tim decides to sit down, with his creation of mirrors and lenses, and try to copy one of Vermeer's paintings. He goes as far as to renting a warehouse and constructing it like the room in Vermeer's painting, which was the north-facing room on the second story of his home. He goes back to use the 17th Century lenses of the time and even works to grinding his own paint, rather than using the paint one could easily by at a store for hobbyists. What unfolds is one of the most fascinating documentaries about art I have yet to see.

The film is a perfect showcase for somebody who is operating in a very advanced league in the computer graphics and software industry, who bears a fascination of where his medium originated. In turn, he decides to go back in time and see how the pioneers of their time operated and worked to create the hard we cherish today. It's the classic example of someone going back and learning the roots of the medium they love; a necessity, considering things are progressing at such a rapid rate these days it's difficult to keep track of things.

Second-time director Teller shows just what a grueling and meticulous process replicating an intricate painting is for Tim, who is operating by his own set of specific rules he has to follow (cannot use modern equipment of any kind, he must paint what he sees in the mirror to assure he's painting as if he was Vermeer during the time period, etc). We assume Tim must be a very relaxed and gentle man, rarely getting frazzled and taking his time with such an elaborate painting, careful not to rush or shortchange any element of the work. It becomes clear that his passion begins to rework itself and become a full-fledged obsession.

Tim's Vermeer seals the deal by adding in ideas and thoughtful discussion points about the role technology and technological advances play in art and how optical machines were used in art, despite some carrying the idea that painters painted straight from their imagination. In addition, the film works to humanize the unfairly ridiculed and shortchanged field of study that is art history, effectively giving it a much-needed leverage in terms of thought and complexity. And, in short, the film is an unexpectedly entertaining dive into the ideas of passion and obsession, art and technology, and devotion and determination.

Starring: Tim Jenison. Directed by: Teller.

'TIM'S VERMEER': Three and a Half Stars (Out of Five)

A documentary from the famous magician team Pen & Teller; focusing on their friend, inventor Tim Jenison, and his attempts to recreate (what he thinks was) the painting methods of the famous artist Johannes Vermeer. The film was directed by Teller, written by Penn Jillette and Teller and produced by Jillete and Farley Ziegler. It also features appearances by people like Martin Mull and David Hockney. I found it to be slow in places but still interesting enough.

Penn Jillette narrates the movie and Teller briefly appears in the film but of course doesn't speak (although I've heard he does in person, after their shows). Their documentary focuses on their friend Tim Jenison, who's an inventor and a big fan of the Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer. The movie is all about his theory on how Vermeer created his paintings (using special lighting and mirrors) and we observe the whole process of Jenison attempting to duplicate one of Vermeer's famous paintings (and confirm his theory).

The movie is only 80 minutes long but it seems a lot longer. It does get pretty dull and methodical as we watch the long detailed process of Jenison trying to recreate a work of Vermeer's. It is amusing though; especially with Jillette narrating (and doing multiple interviews) and Jenison is witty and funny to watch as well. The subject matter is interesting too (but maybe not enough to make a whole feature length movie out of). It's definitely educational though and well made (to a certain extent) and the whole film is kind of like explaining a magic trick (which is fitting coming from Pen & Teller of course).

When I first heard about this two years ago I was very anxious to see it because: One, we were peers in the creation of products for the Commodore Amiga, and two, who doesn't want to know more about how technology may have been used to aid in the creation of a masterpiece.

I finally had an opportunity to see it last night and I have mixed feelings. Even though the subject matter was interesting, I felt the soundtrack was overwhelming and did not help set the mood and tonality of the scene. In fact I was struggling to hear Tim over the music. I also felt the pacing could have been tighter and it seemed stretched to turn it into a feature length movie. Maybe this was the intention to put you in Tim's shoes on how he struggled to keep his mind focused. I know in watching it, that I felt the need to hit the FF button. I also felt that his choice of experts felt underwhelming and in some cases, flat out wrong, as in the case of the expert establishing that there would be no way a human could discern the graduation in shading without the aid of an optical tool. Even if this were true, this is where the skill of mixing layers of paints over many years of study allows them to recreate the graduations without actually seeing them. If I can use a music analogy; Beethoven was still able to compose even after becoming deaf due to his years of experience.

Finally, even though I respect Tim and his accomplishments, I felt all I heard was Tim this and Tim that, and not as much on history of painting, optics and the support process that was clearly shown in the footage; like the crew building his set, his family's involvement, even Penn & Teller's involvement. This would have made a better story of one man's passion that was so infectious that he was able to convince so many to follow him on this long enduring obsession in self actualization.

The subject of this documentary is Texas-based inventor Tim Jenison who has a strong belief that the masterpiece painting "The Music Lesson" (1663) by Johannes Vermeer was created by using special optics and lenses. He attempts to recreate the painting with such devices.

Part of this film includes interviews with David Hockney and Philip Steadman, two Englishmen who share Jenison's belief that Vermeer used special scientific techniques for his paintings rather than just observing models and objects. Hockney and Steadman refer to arguments they've had with art experts regarding science vs. The "purity" of art.

Jenison is a likeable subject for a documentary and his scientific knowledge is very impressive but this film might have been more complete if it included interviews with the art purists. To discuss art masterpieces strictly from a scientific and technical viewpoint (while avoiding artistic ones) leaves the feeling of incompleteness. It also leaves a feeling of dullness to those of us viewers with limited knowledge and interest in technology. - dbamateurcritic.

I'm not blessed with a natural sense of curiosity, so the question of how Dutch Master, Johannes Vermeer, painted his extraordinary masterpieces has never kept me up at night. Tim's Vermeer made me realize I should be kept up at night by the mysteries of the past. I love this movie. I love that I paid close attention through it all. I love Tim Jenison's biting humor. I love the mystery surrounding his theory. I love that even back then, there were people doing things behind the scenes to make the ordinary extraordinary. And I love that we will never know if it's true.

Let me bring in my friend Heidi Sullivan to explain the meat and potatoes. Heidi and I made our yearly trek this year to the Hamptons together for the Hamptons Film Festival. She is an award-winning documentarian, and much, much, much smarter than I am. She also picks the movies we see because she is a deep-sea diver who spends time diving into things, while I am a water skier, flying over things on the surface level. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Anyway, in the interest of making sure you get the whole thing, I asked her to write the paragraph explaining Tim's theory on Vermeer's painting process. Here is it. After you read it, you will be glad I asked her. She is nothing if not articulate when it comes to complex issues. She went to Harvard. Just sayin'.

"Unlike those of his contemporaries, none of Vermeer's sketchbooks have ever been found, nor have X-rays of Vermeer paintings revealed any pencil marks underneath the paint, Intrigued by this fact, Jenison reasoned that Vermeer must have used a camera obscura, the 17th-century equivalent of a camera, to obtain his hyper-realist look (as the film points out, camera obscura literally means darkroom). To test out his theory, and limiting himself to objects and pigments that would have existed in Vermeer's day, Jenison positioned a mirror on a stick, placing the mirror at an angle to reflect the image to be painted onto his tablet. To match the color of the reflected image exactly, Jenison continually kept his eye on the edge of the mirror. Looking between the mirror and the reflected image he was painting, if the color he was using was too dark or too light, the edge of the mirror was visible to his eye. But once he mixed his colors to match exactly, the edge of the mirror seemed to disappear – his eye and the mirror functioning as a sort of photo-sensor. It was an incredibly painstaking paint-by-numbers process, but one that yielded uncanny results." Amazing right? But more amazing is Tim's exploration of this question. His journey to see if he could replicate is told with honesty, humor, and intelligence. Perhaps best of all, it approaches an extremely difficult topic with a sense of comic perspective. No one is curing cancer. He was responding to his own internal boredom with a project he admits he would have abandoned had not the cameras been rolling. There were 2,500 hours of film to edit. A feat in itself.

There is a moment on film that I couldn't leave behind. Tim's daughter spends her week home from college posing for the painting. She has to be perfectly still. A contraption is strapped to her head that makes it look like she has just broken her neck and is in traction. She has a Diet Coke on the table, and the moment when she reaches for it and takes a drink is priceless. Coke should use it in a commercial. And, Tim's comment that she couldn't wait to return to school was priceless.

I have to mention Penn Jillette, who was the 'Director' of this movie. But he really wasn't. He was the famous person whose backing allowed it to be made. Or so it seemed. I'm not a fan anyway, so having him associated with the film would have been a reason not to go, rather than a reason to pay attention.

I like stick-to-itiveness in a person. I do. I can't wait to see a Vermeer and at the Met the next time I am in New York City. I like to be smarter than I was a few hours ago. I like to know things. For those reasons alone, go see the Tim's Vermeer. Become smarter. Ask yourself if Vermeer could secretly have been a paint-by-numbers kind of guy, hiding it because he knew it was a form of cheating? If the answer is yes, what else is possible?

There are endless debates going on about whether Vermeer is the best or Rembrandt. We cannot dispute taste, but in the end of this documentary (to me at least) the mystery of Vermeer is partly solved, that of Rembrandt remains. Tim himself said it eloquently, that art should not have to be separate from technique. A painting is a document, regardless if it was made with optical help. Seeing Vermeer or Rembrandt in a museum, does that give us the sensation of cheating? No. Tim, an inventor, has the wonderful obsession to recreate a Vermeer with optical techniques that help him to paint details on canvas that would otherwise not be possible to discern. We see the whole process of reconstructing the room Vermeer used to paint, his techniques of mixing paint and all the way to the optics he very likely must have used. The obsession and love for Vermeer that Tim has is contagious and it makes it immediately one of my favorite documentaries in decades. What made me convinced Vermeer must have painted like Tim did, is the comment by an optical specialist made that no humans with super retina's exist. Well, Rembrandt did, but it made me doubt when it came to Vermeer. The thing is, there are no sketches to be found behind Vermeer's paintwork, as infrared research shows. Rembrandt, who actually also has many works of astounding detail in miniature form (paintings of his mother reading the bible for instance), always sketched outlines first, which he often erased and changed, like any drawing is made. Rembrandt probably had a staggering talent plus the obstinacy of Vermeer, while Vermeer might have just had the patience. Tim also discovered while painting his Vermeer that some crooked lines and patterns should have been straight and vice versa. This was probably caused by the fact that Vermeer made the same mistake as he did, while using the optical tools. What tipped the balance in favor of Rembrandt as the still unexplained mystery to me is that Vermeer used very often a similar style and composition, which might shed light on the fact he was more a Tim than a real artist. Rembrandt often changed style, getting more and more impressionistic, or less is more, which is also proof of his artistry and drawing talent.

Vermeer must have used mechanical devices to make his works. This explains his virtually unchanged style, but also the fact that he only made 35 works or so. They must have taken a lot of time! Interestingly enough, through Tim's records we get an indication it might have taken Vermeer three months at least to finish one painting. There is only one 'but' – it remains for instance a mystery how Vermeer painted his View of Delft, or the Street Of Delft, both scenes outside his home. I cannot see how mirrors would have done the job of changing clouds.

Of course no one of us were there, but it seems to me Vermeer (despite the stunning quality of this work) had "only" one repertoire – he stuck to the beautiful compositions before him, and rendered these scenes in photographic realism. Rembrandt went further than 'just' the view in front of him. He magnified aspects, and left others out, making a picture of reality that we cannot find in the world, but nevertheless recognize – real art to me. Just like a movie can be a meaningful slice out of life, but never is life. Like Shakespeare, Rembrandt used dark and light, as a metaphor for our short existence (flash in the darkness, life in the violent universe, you pick your metaphor). He also succeeded in painting mainly ugly people in such a grand way that they, just like in Shakespeare's plays, became just like mankind itself, somehow even more impressive, in all their hubris, flaws and limitations. Vermeer never reaches this level to me. Take Rembrandt's Batseba in the Louvre, her sad and serene expression go so much further in telling a story that is so much more than just the picture. Don't take me wrong, I consider Vermeer the absolute number two on the all-time artist list. Vermeer made time stand still. It is funny to know that probably the paintings you see of him actually really looked like that then. Comparing Rembrandt and Vermeer is like combining Wagner and Vivaldi in music, both skillful and both making great music, but Vermeer like Vivaldi seems to me not able to ever go further than the level of 'light entertainment'. With Vermeer art seems to perfectly imitate life, a stunning accomplishment for someone with only 17th century tools! But Rembrandt painted in superlatives to me. He gave human beings somehow a super reality, which to me is art being bigger than life. Rembrandt had not only skill like Vermeer, but also a vision, which for me raised the bar of what humans can do, how we see life, how in fact the universe reflexes on itself via our best art.

Trying to recapture the magic of old masters, the mystery of "how did they do it" remains. Take for instance the Danae by Rembrandt. When it was destroyed in St Petersburg, even after twelve years of restoring, no one could recapture the golden haze emanating from the original Rembrandt. But although Vermeer painted in light and not in gold and dark, Tim shows actually it can be done. Maybe all this documentary is, is an ode to Vermeer and any great artist that wants to do the impossible. The end result of Tim's painting is more than stunning and it makes us think: if a Vermeer can be made through plain perseverance with the help of mechanical means, would he indeed have cheated? In the end it might not matter, since both the sheer beauty of composition and detail will enchant us forever.

Ah, to have the wherewithal to fly your Lear to England to consult with Hockney and have a half hour viewing of the Queen's Vermeer. And the skill to turn a furniture leg on a lathe you modified without any training either in lathe modification or working wood as well as learning lense grinding, stained glass window making, and mixing paints in the Vermeerian manner, and on and on. Staggering, actually. Tim shows the comfort and confidence of the very rich but none of the noblesse oblige. Rare. The film nicely tells the story of the task fulfilled, details of which you know from the descriptions above as well as from the trailer. More on learning to actually mix and apply the paint, as well as the technical aspects involved in manufacturing the paints would gave made this a more valuable document. Still fun and full of charm.

We live in the age of technology. We don't normally think of this as a time producing great artists the way they proliferated in earlier times.

One of the most fascinating types of art, to me anyway, are those of the Dutch. So much detail, particularly in the works of Vermeer.

Penn Jillette, part of the magic team of Penn & Teller, introduces us to inventor Tim Jenison, who puts forward the theory that Vermeer employed technological/scientific means to paint his incredibly detailed artwork. He attempts to figure out how Vermeer was able to paint in such great detail, and reproduces everything available to Vermeer in his time, to recreate his studio, and finally to paint "The Music Lesson."

Jenison postulates that Vermeer possibly used camera obscura and a small mirror to achieve the look of his work.

No way to prove this as Vermeer did not leave any notes, including notes about achieving the colors of his paint. However, Jenison makes a very strong case.

This is a fantastic and absorbing documentary, and gives a possible answer for another aspect of Vermeer's work that wasn't brought up in the discussion. Jenison's recreation using these techniques took months. Vermeer did not leave behind a great many paintings. Granted he died young (43, probably not that young in those days) but still, if it took so long to paint these pictures, perhaps that is why there are so few of them.

His lack of paintings was mentioned, but not connected with this technique. I think this is yet further evidence that he may in fact used these painstaking methods.

This is a controversial subject because some art historians feel it blemishes Vermeer's work and makes him a cheat. Many feel that art and science must forever stay separate.

Jenison and others, such as David Hockney, argue that it is not cheating to use or even invent techniques to help his work. The commitment, the beauty, the detail, the color, all stand testament to the artistry of Vermeer. The fact that it can be replicated in modern times doesn't diminish the work.

A wonderful documentary that deserves to be seen.

Inspired by David Hockney's book about technical innovations in 17th century painting, a maverick American IT entrepreneur invents (or re-invents) a tilted mirror device to copy images and scenes. Tim Jenison suspects the renowned Dutch master Vermeer utilized this method in his paintings, and decides to replicate one of the artist's major works to prove his point. He builds a simulacrum of Vermeer's 'Music Lesson' interior, and after many months of painstaking labor, this untrained amateur manages to produce a respectable copy of the masterpiece.

Jenison makes a good case for the disputed theory that Vermeer used mechanical aids, but doesn't really prove anything. The Dutch artist's work possesses unique qualities that defy analysis, and any experienced painter will recognize Tim's device harnessed to his current level of expertise cannot match Vermeer's deft brushwork and luminous light effects. The film makes a number of interesting points even though a fair amount of nonsense is talked about painting - principally by Hockney who has serious limitations as an artist.

This is a terrific and engaging documentary about a Texas inventor who's determined to (re)discover the technique a 17th Century Dutch painter may have used to achieve near-photographic realism in his work. Tim embarks on a years-long mission to repaint of one of Vermeer's greatest works, The Music Lesson, by recreating the set, models and props and utilizing a technology that he believes Vermeer may have used.

Tim is drolly charismatic and captivating while Teller's directing adroitly carries viewers along Tim's journey.

The film attempts--and succeeds in some measure--to blur the lines that exist between technicians and artists, invention and inspiration. It's really a great, fun watch.

TIM'S VERMEER is an exceptionally strange documentary. Inventor Tim Jenison, with a proved track record of scientific and other discoveries, sets himself the task of recreating Vermeer's "The Music Lesson" using optical techniques with mirrors. The task is long and laborious - from inception to conception takes five years - but in the end Jenison manages to produce a copy of the Vermeer work that is thoroughly creditable. Teller's film includes several clichés of the tele-documentary genre; the highs and the lows, the periods of difficulty when Jenison wonders whether his task has any real values; the intense emotion when he finishes; and the triumphant vindication of his thesis that painters were often more scientific than was first assumed.

To prove his point, Jenison enlists the help of a long list of experts, led by David Hockney and including Martin Mull, and Professors Philip Steadman and Colin Blakemore. All of them support his theory that the division between 'art' and 'science' is not quite as great as art critics might have first assumed; like Jenison himself, Vermeer probably made use of scientific or optical techniques while creating his work.

This point is good as far as it goes, but it leaves the viewer confused. If, as Jenison proves, a painter uses optical techniques, and a self-confessed non-painter such as Jenison can successfully reproduce the painting, then it follows that the artist is not quite the genius that critics might have first assumed. As Andy Warhol proved nearly fifty years ago, art is infinitely reproducible, which therefore confounds the Romantic veneration of the author/ artist as genius. On the other hand, Teller's documentary celebrates Jenison, not necessarily as a painter, but as a successful inventor with a unique capacity for computer recreation. In his way he is just as skillful as Vermeer was nearly four centuries ago. TIM'S VERMEER actually ends up by celebrating the genius of the individual, even while trying to show that their works can be reproduced by self- confessed amateurs in the painting arts.

Jenison is an engaging presence on screen, but we do wish that the documentary had been a little bit better thought out.

Wonderful exposition of the artistic process, the history of painting and the devotion of art lovers. Vermeer has held an almost mystical sway over art lovers as long as I can remember. In this lovingly captured quest to understand the techniques of one of the masters of the art world, we see both the passion and the innovation that went into the artistic creations that mean so much to all of us who love art. The new approach to understanding how Vermeer accomplished this in no way diminishes the art of the composition and lighting that truly differentiate a Vermeer from other artists. The insights revealed reinforce our admiration for his genius, a genius that has certainly created an unmistakably unique series of images that so many of us long to see, over and over. Tim's genial personality softens his dogged commitment to really comprehend Vermeer and his process. Teller's good-natured, but erudite commentary helps keep the story moving. This combination makes "Tim's Vermeer" a riveting hour and twenty minutes. If you love art, are fascinated by technical innovation or just enjoy an adventurous quest, this is a good movie for you. I would have given it a ten, save for a gratuitous cheap shot at the Queen, who, after all, did admit Tim into her residence to see her Vermeer. A simple thanks would have been more gracious than whining about the initial reluctance to grant some stranger special access into her own quarters. One last comment: if you grew up in the era where most movies have a car crash, an evisceration or a planet exploding every two minutes, or if you were bored with Alida Vall's long walk down the cemetery road in "The Third Man," this movie may not be right for you.

Penn & Teller are most well-known for their entertaining and often edgy magic act. While Teller's documentary Tim's Vermeer is unrelated to his own work, though Penn and himself are active participants in the project, it does have a type of magic involved. The film follows wealthy inventor Tim Jenison's attempts to re-create a painting by Johannes Vermeer using methods that he theorises that Vermeer most likely used. Jenison is no painter, but he has a mechanical mind. To many, Vermeer represents when art started to become more realistic and three dimensional, almost like a photograph. While some art historians believe that he used optics such as a camera obscura to project an image onto a canvas, others implore that it was from sheer talent. It's a hot debate in the art world and one that Jenison is deeply involved in outside of his primary interests and business in contemporary computers, cameras and television.

The film thus studies the relationship between art and technology and how creative expression can be manufactured by machines, though it can be argued that through Jenison's obsessive attempts to re-create a Vermeer he in turn learns the skills in order to do it, rather than prove his theory of being able to re-do it in a clinical objective way. Jenison is a fun figure to watch, he's thoughtful and practical with a sense of humour about his preoccupation. He's kind of like a mix between Dan Harmon and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Sometimes the mission does seem quite frivolous when this time and money could be put into more productive and urgent matters but it does somewhat justify itself. However, while it has all the ingredients for a great doc, Teller's direction just can't keep up. It suffers from choppy editing, a really rough production and a lack of structure. Perhaps a finer editor would have improved it significantly, but Teller's work makes it a much cheaper picture. Still very much worth the watch.

7/10