Popular Culture Review Vol. 25, No. 1, Winter 2014 | Page 133

The Age of Innocence 129 Woodward tells us that, with Newland’s and May’s upcoming marriage, “two of New York’s best families would finally and momentously be joined.” The multiplicity of objects, surfaces, designs, and images fractures our attention, sending us back and forth from these details to each room as a whole, while simultaneously our attention is further sub divided by Woodward’s narration which, except for the explanation for Mrs. Mingott’s downstairs bedroom, provides information unrelated to the items the camera explores. Scorsese’s use of paintings in particular creates a sense of windowed multiplicity characteristic of hypermediacy. Paintings dominate most of the film’s interiors; nearly every inch of the sets’ highceilinged walls is covered with them. As noted previously, Scorsese and his designers relied heavily on late-nineteenth-century painting as models for designing the film’s sets and costumes. In addition, Scorsese reports that he “found the characters through the paintings” (Helmetag 164), as he decided that each character’s home would be dressed with a different set of paintings to reflect—and thus reveal—^his or her character. (Martin Scorsese Interviewed). The paintings hanging in Ellen’s unorthodox home in particular—^reproductions of two paintings from the Macchiaioli School, a precursor of French Impressionism—are strikingly different from those in the other characters’ homes, visually illustrating the difference in Ellen’s world view from that of Old New York society (Martin Scorsese Interviewed). More to the point here, the walls hung with paintings call to mind the heterogeneous “windowed style” of webpages and desktop interfaces, as well as such pre-digital media as Dutch oil paintings of the “art of describing” school. As Bolter and Grusin point out, the inclusion of mirrors, windows, maps, and other paintings within these Dutch paintings resulted in works that present “the world as made up of a multiplicity of representations” (37), their hypermediacy arising from their having “absorbed and captured multiple media and multiple forms in oil” (37). In like maimer, Scorsese’s painting-filled walls present a multitude of images, each of which, he states, tell a story so that his characters’ living with the paintings would be “almost like a theatrical experience” (Martin Scorsese Interviewed 24). Similarly, Kathleen Murphy has equated these walls of paintings to banks of TV screens or computer monitors. This hypermediacy reaches its apex in a visual pun where Scorsese places Samuel Morse’s Gallery o f the Louvre (18311833)—in which the human figures are dwarfed by a towering wall filled