ART 4 2-DAY 16 April v. 9.60
Born on 16 April 1635: Frans
van Mieris the Elder, Baroque
Dutch painter who died on 12 March 1681.
Father of Jan van Mieris and Willem van Mieris. Studied under Gerrit Dou.
Dutch painter, the most distinguished member of a family of artists who worked in Leiden. He was one of the best students of Gerrit Dou and followed his master in choice of subjects (mainly domestic genre scenes) and in his highly polished technique. The tradition was continued by his sons Jan and Willem, and by Willem's son Frans II.
— Frans van Mieris the Elder was after Dou the principal representative of the Leiden school of 'fijnschilders'. Apparently by the time he was born his parents stopped keeping track of the number of children they produced; he is vaguely mentioned as one of the last of twenty-three. Mieris studied with Dou, and the latter acknowledged him as the 'crown prince of his students'. The characterization is still valid. Mieris fell heir to Dou's technique and compositions.
Like his teacher, he was extremely popular with the wealthy collectors of his time. He received important commissions from Grand Duke Cosimo III de' Medici and Archduke Leopold Wilhelm. The latter invited him to work at his court in Vienna. He turned down the offer and, as far as we know, spent his life in his native town. A review of his oeuvre brings to mind the work of many of his contemporaries, although he always manages to keep his own personality, particularly his impeccable, highly polished finish which had a lasting effect on later painters with a passion for 'fine painting'.
— Gerrit Dou called Frans van Mieris 'the Prince of my students'. Van Mieris was the son of a Leiden goldsmith and, like Dou himself, had been trained in the studio of a glass-painter before entering that of a painter. Van Mieris mastered Dou's highly finished technique and after his master's death was the leading exponent of the fijnschilder (fine painter) style. He spent his entire working life in Leiden, although (once again like Dou) he enjoyed a considerable international reputation: he received commissions from, among others, Duke Cosimo III de'Medici and Archduke Leopold Wilhelm, who unsuccessfully offered van Mieris the position of court painter in Vienna. This painting shows the traditional subject of a woman admiring herself in a mirror: in the work of Hieronymous Bosch, for example, it was a symbol of the sin of superbia (pride) but by the time it was painted by Gerard ter Borch and van Mieris it simply provided an opportunity for the painter to display his skill in rendering reflections and rich materials. Van Mieris highlights the shimmering satin dress and brightly colored feather within the dark interior, encouraging the viewer to admire his craftsmanship and virtuosity.
Despite his success van Mieris was constantly in debt and contemporary documents appear to support the accounts of an early biographer, Arnold Houbraken, who described him as a habitual drunkard. He was, however, well respected in Leiden and established a dynasty of painters: his sons, Willem and Jan, and his grandson, Frans van Mieris the Younger, imitated his meticulous style and continued to work in his manner until the 1760s.
— The Love Declaration (600x672pix _ ZOOM to 1400x1101pix)
— Woman before the mirror (1670, 43x32cm) _ detail _ This painting shows the traditional subject of a woman admiring herself in a mirror: in the work of Hieronymous Bosch, for example, it was a symbol of the sin of superbia (pride) but by the time it was painted by Gerard ter Borch and van Mieris it simply provided an opportunity for the painter to display his skill in rendering reflections and rich materials. Van Mieris highlights the shimmering satin dress and brightly colored feather within the dark interior, encouraging the viewer to admire his craftsmanship and virtuosity.
— different Young Lady Before a Mirror (600x461pix, 77kb)
Brothel Scene (1658, 43x33cm) _ Unlike a history painting, a genre picture does not generally refer to a written text. Its relation is to the popular, often crude and simplistic, metaphorical interpretation of the world. Genre picture, therefore, have a different structure from history painting, and that structure is one of their major characteristics. A history painting usually illustrates the decisive moment of the historical narrative to which it refers. For a genre painting, however, there never could be such a crucial moment: there was no story. A genre painting always presents a situation, which, through the introduction of key symbols, is reversed into a moral example. This is examplified by the Brothel Scene, which shows an interior with a rather coy lady pouring a smartly dressed young man a glass of wine. An elegant scene until one perceives, farther back in the room, two dogs copulating. This crude and explicit detail associates the picture with a popular expression of Italian origin: As is the lady, so is her dog. And another proverb, saying that beautiful woman and sweet wine are full of dangers, may also apply here. So what at first seems a harmless, attractive scene, is suddenly reversed when the viewer encounters an explicit symbol, often hidden in the background.
Duet (1658, 32x25cm) _ The curtain drawn aside lets the viewer spy on the elegant, mildly titillating musical partnership.
The Lacemaker (1680, 78v42cm) _ Frans van Mieris the Elder painted allegories, biblical, historical, literary subjects, and portraits. His principal contribution, however, is found in his genres scenes.
— Carousing Couple
— Interior with figures playing Tric Trac (1680, 78x42cm)
— A meal of Oysters (1661, 27x20cm) _ Oysters in the late 17th-century Dutch paintings were generally interpreted as erotic - vaginal - symbols. Here, however, they still had the religious symbolism of shell, with the meaning that had been given to it in a 3rd-century Christian book on animals called 'Physiologus.' Describing the behaviour of animals in 55 chapters, it then relates them to Christian doctrine. The shell is symbolically likened to Mary who gave birth to the 'pearl of great price,' Jesus.
— Young woman in the morning (52x40cm) _ The same woman appears in the Brothel Scene
— Pictura (an allegory of painting) (1661) _ This is a good exemple of the refined technique of van Mieris. Done on copper, the tiny picture follows more or less the formula Cesare Ripa gives in his Iconologia for representing the art of painting: 'A beautiful woman ... with a golden chain around her neck, on which hangs a face mask ... [with] brushes in one hand, and in the other a palette, dressed in a lustrous garment ...' Among the attributes Ripa prescribes for the allegorical representation of Pictura that Mieris thankfully omits are the inscription 'Imitatio' written on the woman's forehead and a bound cloth over her mouth. We have seen that a few years later Vermeer also turned to Ripa's Iconologia for his Art of Painting and Allegory of Faith and that he did not follow the iconographer's instructions to the letter either.
— The Doctors' visit (1667, 44x31cm)
— The Death of Lucretia (1679, 38x17cm) _ Compare: Muerte de Lucrecia (1871, 257x347cm; 440x600pix, 33kb) by Eduardo Rosales Gallina [04 Nov 1836 – 13 Sep 1873].
Died on 16 April 1978: Richard
Lindner, US Pop painter born on 11 November 1901.
Lindner was born in Hamburg. His mother was from the US. He grew up in Nuremberg and studied there at the Kunstgewerbeschule. From 1924 to 1927 he lived in Munich and studied there from 1925 at the Kunstakademie. He moved to Berlin and stayed there until 1928 when he returned to Munich to become art director of a publishing firm. He remained there until 1933 when he was forced to flee to Paris, where he became politicaly engaged, sought contact with French artists and earned his living as a commercial artist. He was interned when the war broke out in 1939 and later served in the French army. In 1941 he went to the USA, worked in New York as an illustrator of books and magazines and made contact with New York artists and German emigrants. In 1948 he became a US citizen. From 1952 he taught at the Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, from 1967 at Yale University School of Art and Architecture, New Haven. In 1965 he became Guest Professor at the Akademie für Bildende Künste, Hamburg. His paintings at this time used the sexual symbolism of advertising and investigated definitions of gender roles in the media.
— A concert pianist from the age of eighteen to twenty-two, Lindner left Nazi Germany in 1933 for the Paris of Picasso and Gertrude Stein. In the 1941 he came to the United States, where he worked as a magazine illustrator; feeling that this hampered his painting, he abandoned illustration entirely in a few years for painting alone. Oxymorons describe his paintings-decadent vitality, icy voluptuousness, impersonal titillation, invulnerable victims. His technique is as impersonal as the modern world, yet "in a cool climate" he shows "the brilliant display of a heated imagination," in the words of Hilton Kramer.
— Lindner grew up in a bourgeois Jewish household in Nuremberg; the city’s fairy-tale appearance and atmosphere, its reputation as the toy capital of Europe and as the home of the Iron Maiden and its suffocating smugness were all later cited by him as influences on his work. Lindner’s early studies were in music and he seemed destined for a career as a concert pianist, but his growing interest in art led him to study at the Kunstakademie in Munich from 1925 to 1927. He lived in Berlin from 1927 to 1928 and returned to Munich in 1929 as art director at the large publishing house of Knorr & Hirth. Lindner’s politics were Social Democratic and on Hitler’s ascent to power in 1933 Lindner hurriedly left Germany just as he was about to be arrested by the Nazis. He went to Paris, where he continued to work in graphic design until 1939, when he was interned as an alien; shortly thereafter he joined the French army. In March 1941 he arrived in New York, where he quickly became a highly successful illustrator for such magazines as Fortune, Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue.
— Painter Richard Lindner's highly idiosyncratic work incorporates elements of his personal history, as well as literary associations. The element of introspection separates his work from pop art. He was born in Hamburg, Germany in 1901 to an American mother and a German father. After a brief career as a concert pianist, in 1925 Lindner entered the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich. Eventually, he became an art director for Knorr & Hirth, a publisher closely associated with the Nazis. There, Lindner met high-ranking Nazis, including Hitler.
The day after the Nazis came to power in 1933, he fled to Paris, where he was interned as an enemy alien when WW II started in 1939. To prove his loyalty, he served in the French and British armies. Finally, in 1941, he arrived in New York City. Lindner worked as an illustrator for Vogue, Fortune and Harper's Bazaar. He began painting seriously in 1952, holding his first one-man exhibit in 1954.
His style blends a mechanistic cubism with personal images and haunting symbolism. He used flat areas of rich, sometimes garish, colors separated by hard edges, to present ambiguous perspective. He modeled clothing, faces and body parts. His favorite subject was bizarre women. Corsets and straps emphasize their sexual qualities. Lindner professed no hatred of women; instead, he said, "I feel sorry for women. When I dress women in these corsets and contraptions in my painting, it's kind of the way I see them wrapping themselves up." His Ice (1966) established a connection between the metaphysical tradition and pop art. The painting shows harsh, flat geometric shapes framing an erotic but mechanical robot-woman. Lindner's characters-the women, precocious children and men who could be strangers or voyeurs--often are posed in slice-of-life scenes. But these scenes are obsessive, rather than normal visions. Though he became a United States citizen in 1948, Lindner considered himself a New Yorker, but not a true American. However, over the course of time, his continental circus women became New York City streetwalkers. New York police uniforms replaced European military uniforms as symbols of authority. Lindner taught at the Pratt Institute from 1952 to 1965.
— Homage to a Cat (1952, 92x60cm)
— Stranger No. 2 (1958, 152x101cm)
— Man & Tiger Woman (41x48cm)
— Watching (76x56cm)
— Woman & Bird (24x31cm)
— Der Rosenkavalier (1975, 91x61cm)
— The Couple (753x800pix, 108kb) _ This colorful picture was the starting point from which the pseudonymous Pauvrard Lêne de Vêne developed the abstractions
_ Thé Haché c'Est; au Huppé Elle Est aka Puce Cup (2006; screen filling, 209kb _ ZOOM to 1318x1864pix, 719kb) and
_ Le Coût du Coup du Couple Coupe-Cou aka Pant Nap (2006; screen filling, 238kb _ ZOOM to 1318x1864pix, 896kb)
— The Scream (800x531pix, 63kb) not at all like::
_ The Scream (1893, 91x74cm; 1052x813pix, 244kb _ ZOOM to 1425x1130pix, 615k ) by Munch [12 Dec 1863 – 23 Jan 1944];(1015x750pix, 487kb)
_ Mock of Munch's Scream (1893, 91x74cm; 1015x715pix, 487kb) by “Copycat”, looks like a copy rather than a satire;
_ Scream (850x625pix, 402kb) Munch's picture with the screamer's head replaced by a realistic bald head (Erik's ?) looking skyward, and/or by Erik (?);
_ Scream is not missing (800x653pix, 108kb) by ? (“George Bush art”), Munch's picture with the sky replaced by the US flag;
_ The Scream (849x600pix, 445kb) by ?, Munch adapted to student anguish;
_ The Scream (photo 600x800pix, 67kb) by Jenny Edwards, somewhat like Munch modernized;
_ The Scream ASCII (14kb) by Allen Mullen _ Munch's picture (cropped laterally to just the screamer) rendered in typographical characters; it is best seen at the smallest possible character size which makes it about 1400x400pix;
_ Scream (1220x1087pix, 445kb) by Aristeo Aemeliano;
_ Scream (140kb) by Ruth Vilmi;
_ The Scream (1000x724pix, 167kb) by W. Begny;
_ Scream (938x718pix, 282kb) _ detail (768x1024pix, 375kb) _ by anonymous at Cornell;
_ Scream (600x889pix, 776kb) by ?;
_ Scream (xcm; 1089x628pix, 517kb) by Sonya Cuellar;
_ (Screaming Finnish Child) (photo, 800x600pix, 82kb) by ?;
_ The Scream (photo 804x792pix, 342kb) by Michael Reichmann, a landscape of rocks;
_ Scream (1006x789pix, 407kb) by Adam Neilson;
_ Andy's Scream (768x1024pix, 50kb) by Danny Dulai;
_ The Screams aka Crime's Creams (2006; screen filling, 255kb _ ZOOM to 932x1318pix, 521kb) by the pseudonymous Vayvard Crunch.
_ The Screams Series 31 self portraits painted in 2000-2001 by Emilio Mogilner [1965~].
— Marilyn Was Here I (800x673pix, 111kb)
— Marilyn Was Here II (800x666pix, 76kb)
— Arizona Girl (1975; 580x470pix)
— Untitled (Sketch No. 15) (1959, 12x9cm)
— 75 images at Ciudad de la Pintura
Died on 16 April 1828: Francisco
José de Goya y Lucientes, Spanish painter born on
30 March 1746.
BIOGRAFÍA EN CASTELLANO (distinta de las que se dan aquí en Inglés)
Francisco de Goya is one of the great Spanish masters, known for such works as Nude Maja, Clothed Maja and Third of May, 1808. The student, and later brother-in-law, of Francisco Bayeu, Goya was initially trained in the then-current Rococo style. He gradually developed his own distinctive style of painting, showing the influence of Velázquez and Rembrandt. Goya's late works became quite dark in mood, from his satirical caricatures to the so-called Black Paintings such as
_ Saturn Devouring One of his Sons.
Goya was a consummately Spanish artist whose multifarious paintings, drawings, and engravings reflected contemporary historical upheavals and influenced important 19th- and 20th-century painters. The series of etchings
_ Los desastres de la guerra (1810-1814) records the horrors of the Napoleonic invasion. His masterpieces in painting include
_ The Naked Maja and
_ The Clothed Maja (1805). [They never say what is a maja. It means a provocative young woman or a belle of the lower classes.]
For the bold technique of his paintings, the haunting satire of his etchings, and his belief that the artist's vision is more important than tradition, Goya is often called "the first of the moderns." His uncompromising portrayal of his times marks the beginning of 19th-century realism.
Francisco Jose de Goya y Lucientes was born in Fuendetodos, a village in northern Spain. The family later moved to Saragossa, where Goya's father worked as a gilder. At about 14 young Goya was apprenticed to José Luzán, a local painter. Later he went to Italy to continue his study of art. On returning to Saragossa in 1771, he painted frescoes for the local cathedral. These works, done in the decorative rococo tradition, established Goya's artistic reputation. In 1773 he married Josefa Bayeu, sister of Saragossa artist Francisco Bayeu. The couple had many children, but only one--a son, Xavier--survived to adulthood.
From 1775 to 1792 Goya painted cartoons (designs) for the royal tapestry factory in Madrid. This was the most important period in his artistic development. As a tapestry designer, Goya did his first genre paintings, or scenes from everyday life.
The experience helped him become a keen observer of human behavior. He was also influenced by neoclassicism, which was gaining favor over the rococo style. Finally, his study of the works of Velázquez in the royal collection resulted in a looser, more spontaneous painting technique.
At the same time, Goya achieved his first popular success. He became established as a portrait painter to the Spanish aristocracy. He was elected to the Royal Academy of San Fernando in 1780, named painter to the king in 1786, and made a court painter in 1789.
A serious illness in 1792 left Goya permanently deaf. Isolated from others by his deafness, he became increasingly occupied with the fantasies and inventions of his imagination and with critical and satirical observations of mankind. He evolved a bold, free new style close to caricature. In 1799 he published the Caprichos, a series of etchings satirizing human folly and weakness. His portraits became penetrating characterizations, revealing their subjects as Goya saw them. In his religious frescoes he employed a broad, free style and an earthy realism unprecedented in religious art.
Goya served as director of painting at the Royal Academy from 1795 to 1797 and was appointed first Spanish court painter in 1799. During the Napoleonic invasion and the Spanish war of independence from 1808 to 1814, Goya served as court painter to the French. He expressed his horror of armed conflict in The Disasters of War, a series of starkly realistic etchings on the atrocities of war. They were not published until 1863, long after Goya's death.
the restoration of the Spanish monarchy, Goya was pardoned for serving the
French, but his work was not favored by the new king. He was called before
the Inquisition to explain his earlier portrait of The Naked Maja,
one of the few nudes in Spanish art at that time.
In 1816 he published his etchings on bullfighting, called the Tauromaquia. From 1819 to 1824 Goya lived in seclusion in a house outside Madrid. Free from court restrictions, he adopted an increasingly personal style. In the Black Paintings, executed on the walls of his house, Goya gave expression to his darkest visions. A similar nightmarish quality haunts the satirical Disparates, a series of etchings also called Proverbios.
In 1824, after the failure of an attempt to restore liberal government, Goya went into voluntary exile in France. He settled in Bordeaux, continuing to work until his death there.
Goya was an innovative Spanish painter and etcher; one of the triumvirate—including El Greco and Diego Velázquez—of great Spanish masters. Much in the art of Goya is derived from that of Velázquez, just as much in the art of the 19th-century French master Edouard Manet and the 20th-century genius Pablo Picasso is taken from Goya. Trained in a mediocre rococo artistic milieu, Goya transformed this often frivolous style and created works, such as the famous Third of May, 1808 (1814), that have as great an impact today as when they were created.
Early Training and First Projects
Goya was born in the small Aragonese town of Fuendetodos (near Saragossa). His father was a painter and a gilder of altarpieces, and his mother was descended from a family of minor Aragonese nobility. Facts of Goya's childhood are scarce. He attended school in Saragossa at the Escuelas Pias. Goya's formal artistic education commenced when, at the age of 14, he was apprenticed to a local master, José Luzan, a competent although little-known painter in whose studio Goya spent four years. In 1763 the young artist went to Madrid, where he hoped to win a prize at the Academy of San Fernando (founded 1752). Although he did not win the desired award, he did make the acquaintance of Francisco Bayeu, an artist also from Aragón, who was working at the court in the academic manner imported to Spain by the German painter Anton Raphael Mengs. Bayeu (the brother of Goya's wife) was influential in forming Goya's early style and was responsible for his participation in an important commission, the fresco decoration (1771, 1780-1782) of the Church of the Virgin in El Pilar in Saragossa.
In 1771 Goya went to Italy for approximately one year. His activity there is relatively obscure; he spent some months in Rome and also entered a composition at the Parma Academy competition, in which he was successful. Returning to Spain about 1773, Goya participated in several other fresco projects, including that for the Charterhouse of Aula Dei, near Saragossa, in 1774, where his paintings prefigure those of his greatest fresco project, executed in the Church of San Antonio de la Florida, Madrid, in 1798. It was at this time that Goya began to do prints after paintings by Velázquez, who would remain, along with Rembrandt, his greatest source of inspiration.
Years as Court Painter
By 1786 Goya was working in an official capacity for King Charles III, the most enlightened Spanish monarch of the 18th century. Goya was appointed first court painter in 1799. His tapestry cartoons executed in the late 1780s and early 1790s were highly praised for their candid views of everyday Spanish life. With these cartoons Goya revolutionized the tapestry industry, which, until that time, had slavishly reproduced the Flemish genre scenes of the 17th-century painter David Teniers. Some of Goya's most beautiful portraits of his friends, members of the court, and the nobility date from the 1780s. Works such as Marquesa de Pontejos (1786) show that Goya was then painting in an elegant manner somewhat reminiscent of the style of his English contemporary Thomas Gainsborough.
and Later Paintings
In the winter of 1792, while on a visit to southern Spain, Goya contracted a serious disease that left him totally deaf and marked a turning point in his career. A mood of pessimism entered Goya's work. Between 1797 and 1799 he drew and etched the first of his great print series Los caprichos, which, in their satirical humor, mock the social mores and superstitions of the time. Later series, such as Desastres de la guerra (1810) and Disparates (1820-1823), present more caustic commentaries on the ills and follies of humanity. The horrors of warfare were of great concern to Goya, who observed firsthand the battles between French soldiers and Spanish citizens during the bloody years of the Napoleonic occupation of Spain. In 1814 he completed Second of May, 1808 and Third of May, 1808. These paintings depict horrifying and dramatically brutal massacres of groups of unarmed Spanish street fighters by French soldiers. Both are painted, like so many later pictures by Goya, in thick, bold strokes of dark color punctuated by brilliant yellow and red highlights.
Straightforward candor and honesty are also present in Goya's later portraits, such as Family of Charles IV (1800), in which the royal family is shown in a completely unidealized fashion, verging on caricature, as a group of strikingly homely individuals.
The Black Paintings, scenes of witchcraft and other bizarre activities, are among the most outstanding works of the artist's late years (about 1820). Originally painted in fresco on the walls of Goya's country house and now transferred to canvas, they attest to his progressively darkening mood, possibly aggravated by an oppressive political situation in Spain that forced him to leave for France in 1824. In Bordeaux he took up the then new art of lithography, producing a series of bullfight scenes, considered among the finest lithographs ever made. Although he returned to Madrid for a brief visit in 1826, he died in self-imposed exile in Bordeaux two years later. Goya left no immediate followers of consequence, but his influence was strongly felt in mid-19th-century painting and printmaking and in 20th-century art.
Goya was born in a very poor village called Fuendetodos, near Saragossa, in Aragon, on 30 March 1746. Goya’s father was a gilder in Saragossa and it was there that Goya spent his childhood and adolescence.
He began his artistic studies at the age of 13 with a local artist, José Lusán, who had trained in Naples and who taught Goya to draw, to copy engravings and to paint in oils. In 1763 and 1766, he competed unsuccessfully for a scholarship of the Royal Academy of San Fernando in Madrid, probably working in the studio of the Court Painter Francisco Bayeu, who was also from Saragossa. To continue his studies he went to Rome at his own expense. In April of 1771 he participated in a competition held by the Academy of Parma introducing himself as a student of Francisco Bayeu. By the end of 1771, Goya was back in Saragossa, where he received his first official commission, the frescoes in the Cathedral of El Pilar.
In 1773 Goya married Josefa Bayeu, sister of Francisco Bayeu. In 1774, the German artist Anton Raphael Mengs summoned Goya to Madrid to paint cartoons for tapestries for the Royal Factory of Santa Barbara. It is possible that Goya first met Mengs in Rome, since many years later he wrote that it was Mengs who made him return to Spain. In any event, it was Mengs who started him on his career at court. Under the direction first of Mengs, and later of Francisco Bayeu and Mariano Maella, Goya executed over 60 tapestry cartoons between 1775 and 1792, see e.g.
_ Fight at the Cock Inn,
_ The Parasol,
_ La Cometa.
1780, Goya was elected a member of the Royal Academy of San Fernando. In
1780-1781, he worked on the frescoes of El Pilar in Saragossa. On his return
to Madrid he received the royal invitation to paint one of seven large altarpieces
for the newly built church of San Francisco el Grande. The King’s opinion
of his work must have been favorable, because in 1785, a year after the
paintings were first shown to the public, Goya was appointed Deputy Director
of Painting in the Academy. In 1786, he became a court painter.
Among Goya’s early admirers and most important patrons during a period of 20 years were the Duke and Duchess of Osuna, who commissioned not only portraits of themselves and a family group but also a number of paintings to decorate their country residence near Madrid, the Alameda Palace, known as El Capricho. Among other paintings for the Duke of Osuna are two altarpieces, commissioned in 1788 for the chapel of his ancestors, St. Francis Borgia, in Valencia Cathedral.
In 1783-1785, Goya painted a number of portraits of the influential persons of his time: the portrait of the Chief Minister of State, the Count of Floridablanca, in which Goya himself appears; the family portrait of the Infante Don Luis, the King’s brother, with himself again in the picture; the court architect, Ventura Rodriguez. In 1785, he was commissioned for a series of portraits of offices of the Banco Nacional de San Carlos. In these early official portraits, Goya adopted conventional XVIII century poses. His portrait of
_ Charles III in Hunting Costume is based directly on Velásquez’s paintings of royal huntsmen.
The death of Charles III in 1788, and the outbreak of the French Revolution, brought to an end the period of comparative prosperity and enlightenment in Spain during which Goya had reached maturity. Under the rule of the weak Charles IV and his unscrupulous Queen, María Luisa, Spain fell into political and social corruption, which ended with the Napoleonic invasion of Spain. Under the new regime Goya reached the height of his career as the most fashionable and successful artist in Spain. The new King raised him to the rank of Court Painter in 1789.
During a visit to Andalusia towards the end of 1792, Goya was struck down by a long and serious illness of which the effect, as he wrote even a year later, made him, ‘At times rage with so ill a humor that he could not tolerate himself’. The nature of the illness is not known for certain but it caused temporary paralysis and partial blindness and left him permanently deaf, so that henceforth he could only communicate by writing and sign language. He returned to Madrid in the summer of 1793.
After the death of Francisco Bayeu in 1795, Goya succeeded his former teacher as Director of Painting in the Academy (but resigned for reasons of health two years later), and in 1799 was appointed First Court Painter. In 1799, Goya published the series of 80 etchings called Los Caprichos, bitter caricatures of life. Despite the veiled language of Los Caprichos they were withdrawn from sale after a few days.
From the time of their ascension until 1800, Charles IV and María Luisa sat for him on many occasions, and many replicas were made of his portraits of them. He painted them in various costumes and poses, ranging from the early decorative portraits in full regalia in the tradition of Mengs to the simpler and more natural compositions in the manner of Velázquez.
Goya was 62 years old when the Napoleonic invasion of Spain started in 1808, and Spain was subjected to six years of war and revolution. Goya was in Madrid during the tragic events of 02 and 03 May 1808 when the population rose against the French and the uprising was savagely repressed. In 1814 he recorded the events in two of the most famous of his paintings
_ The Second of May, 1808: The Charge of Mamelukes. and
_ The Third of May, 1808: The Execution of the Defenders of Madrid. Meanwhile, with thousands of other heads of families, Goya swore allegiance to the French King, Joseph Bonaparte. During the war he was occupied with portraits of family groups and private citizens. At the time he made his personal record of the war in expressive and fearful drawings Desastres de la Guerra, which were later used for a series of 82 etchings, which were published only in 1863.
In August 1812, when the British entered Madrid, Goya accepted a commission for an equestrian portrait of the Duke of Wellington and, soon afterwards, painted one other portrait of his only recorded English sitter. On the restoration of Ferdinand VII in 1814, Goya resumed his office as First Court Painter. The portraits of Ferdinand were Goya’s last royal portraits, he went out of favor and fashion. From now on Goya was chiefly occupied with paintings for private patrons, for friends and for himself. He continued to record his observations and ideas in drawings. During this period Goya received two important ecclesiastical commissions for St. Justa and St. Rufina, painted in 1817 for the Seville Cathedral, and for
_ The Last Communion of St. Joseph of Calasanz, painted in 1819 for the church of the Escuelas Pías de San Antón in Madrid.
As a result of the revolution of 1820 Ferdinand VII was forced to recognize a constitution, but already in 1823 the French army restored the Spanish king to absolute power, and the persecution of the liberals was renewed with greater violence than ever before. Goya, who had made his last appearance at the Academy on 04 April 1820 to swear allegiance to the Constitution, went into hiding early in 1824. After the declaration of amnesty Goya left Spain. Except for two short visits to Madrid in 1826 and 1827, the painter remained in France, mainly in Bordeaux, for the rest of his life. He died in Bordeaux.
Goya lived in troubled times. He admired the ideals of the French Revolution and condemned the rule of the Spanish king. Yet he continued to work for the Spanish court. His social criticism was mainly expressed in his fierce etchings and drawings. Through his challenging use of color and expressive use of paint, he was a great innovator in painting. For years his work was far too daring to be appreciated by the public at large.
— Self-Portrait (1795 drawing)
— Self-Portrait (1815)
Self-Portrait With Doctor Autoretrato
— 3 de Mayo de 1808 Maja With Masked Men
Inquisition Carlos III
Familia de Carlos IV (280x336cm)_ La Familia de Carlos IV supone la culminación de todos los retratos pintados por Goya en esta época. Gracias a las cartas de la reina María Luisa de Parma a Godoy conocemos paso a paso la concepción del cuadro. La obra fue realizada en Aranjuez desde abril de 1800 y durante ese verano. En ella aparecen retratados, de izquierda a derecha, los siguientes personajes: Carlos María Isidro, hijo de Carlos IV y María Luisa de Parma; el futuro Fernando VII, hijo primogénito de la real pareja; Goya pintando, como había hecho Velázquez en Las Meninas; Doña María Josefa, hermana de Carlos IV; un personaje desconocido que podría ser destinado a colocar el rostro de la futura esposa de Fernando cuando éste contrajera matrimonio, por lo que aparece con la cabeza vuelta; María Isabel, hija menor de los reyes; la reina María Luisa de Parma en el centro de la escena, como señal de poder ya que era ella la que llevaba las riendas del Estado a través de Godoy; Francisco de Paula de la mano de su madre, de él se decía que tenía un indecente parecido con Godoy; el rey Carlos IV, en posición avanzada respecto al grupo; tras el monarca vemos a su hermano, Don Antonio Pascual; Carlota Joaquina, la hija mayor de los reyes, sólo muestra la cabeza; cierra el grupo D. Luis de Parma; su esposa, María Luisa Josefina, hija también de Carlos IV; y el hijito de ambos, Carlos Luis, en brazos de su madre. Todos los hombres retratados portan la Orden de Carlos III y algunos también el Toisón de Oro, mientras que las damas visten a la moda Imperio y ostentan la banda de la Orden de María Luisa. Carlos IV también luce la insignia de las Ordenes Militares y de la Orden de Cristo de Portugal. Alrededor de esta obra existe mucha literatura ya que siempre se considera que Goya ha ridiculizado a los personajes regios. Resulta extraño pensar que nuestro pintor tuviera intención de poner en ridículo a la familia del monarca; incluso existen documentos en los que la reina comenta que están quedando todos muy propios y que ella estaba muy satisfecha. Más lógico resulta pensar que la familia real era así porque, de lo contrario, el cuadro hubiese sido destruido y Goya hubiese caído en desgracia, lo que no ocurrió. El artista recoge a los personajes como si de un friso se tratara, en tres grupos para dar mayor movimiento a la obra; así, en el centro se sitúan los monarcas con sus dos hijos menores; en la derecha, el grupo presidido por el príncipe heredero realizado en una gama fría, mientras que en la izquierda los Príncipes de Parma, en una gama caliente. Todas las figuras están envueltas en una especie de niebla dorada que pone en relación la obra con Las Meninas. Lo que más interesa al pintor es captar la personalidad de los retratados, fundamentalmente de la reina, verdadera protagonista de la composición, y la del rey, con su carácter abúlico y ausente. La obra es un documento humano sin parangón. Estilísticamente destaca la pincelada tan suelta empleada por Goya; desde una distancia prudencial parece que ha detallado todas y cada una de las condecoraciones, pero al acercarse se aprecian claramente las manchas. Goya, a diferencia de Velázquez en Las Meninas, ha renunciado a los juegos de perspectiva pero gracias a la luz y al color consigue dar variedad a los volúmenes y ayuda a diferenciar los distintos planos en profundidad. Fue la primera obra de Goya que entró en el Museo del Prado, siendo valorada en 1834 en 80'000 reales.
Queen of Martyrs
The Great He~Goat or Witches Sabbath
Marquesa de Pontejos
— Don Ramón Satué, Alcade de Corte (1823, 107x84cm) _ Black, bright red and white. Goya only needed a few colors to paint this masterly portrait of Satué, a judge in the supreme court in Madrid. The picture was probably not officially commissioned, but was painted out of friendship. Satué and Goya knew each other well: both were declared opponents of the regime of the Spanish king, Ferdinand VII.
Dignitaries of this period were usually portrayed in full official regalia. For example, it is immediately clear from the portrait by J.A. Daiwalle of
_ Jan Blanken, Superintendent of the waterworks in uniform with medals (1825) that he was an important man. Satué's rank, however, can not be read from this portrait: Goya has depicted the judge without any decoration and with his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. This is not a portrait of a powerful judge, but of an ordinary man: confident, almost challenging, recognizable. Hence, this painting is also known as one of the first portraits of a modern person.
Fight at the Cock Inn
Charles III in Hunting Costume
The Second of May 1808: The Charge of Mamelukes.
an equestrian portrait of the Duke of Wellington
The Last Communion of Saint Joseph of Calasanz
Etchings: Que Se Rompe la Cuerda
Contra el Bien General
— Quéjate al tiempo (1812 drawing, 26x18cm) _ A woman sits weeping on the ground. With one hand she holds her head in despair. Her whole body radiates hopelessness; the thin wisps of hair, the obviously toothless mouth, the lantern jaw, the rag-tag clothes. The woman's eyes - nothing more than small black points deep in the white eye sockets - are particularly eloquent in their depiction. The strong contrast of light and dark and the black frame around the drawing amplify the dramatic effect. Spanish artist Francisco de Goya made this drawing between 1808 and 1812. Under it, he wrote in pencil the title, a double entendre in which 'tiempo' can refer either to the woman's age or the time in which she lived.
The drawing comes from an album created in Madrid between 1808 and 1812, at a time when Spain was occupied by Napoleon's armies. Each drawing in the album portrays a theme and is accompanied by a short text. The texts are at times ironic commentary on human nature, though they are often pure criticism of society. Goya shared the ideals of the French revolution and admired Napoleon. He recorded his criticism of society in a series of etchings: Los Desastres de la Guerra.
— El Sueño de la razón produce monstruos (1799 etching, 22x15cm; 1600x1062pix, 624kb) _ A poet has fallen asleep over his work. His head rests on his arms, while pen and paper lie idle on the table. Above his head owls and bats come flying; their silhouettes stand out menacingly against the background. Behind the chair lies a cat. Inscribed on the table is the title of the picture. Cats, owls and bats are nocturnal creatures. They presage disaster and symbolise the darkness threatening the ignorant mind. Goya said of this etching: 'Imagination without reason brings forth impossible monsters, but with reason it is the mother of all the arts'.
The etching is number 43 from Los Caprichos, a series of 80 etchings Goya did between 1793 and 1799. Many of the Caprichos were indictments of political and religious abuses of the time. For all his indignation, Goya never lost sight of his own interests. Shortly after the appearance of the Caprichos he had the series withdrawn from sale for fear of the Inquisition. Four years later, in 1803, he presented the unsold series (240 in total) to King Charles IV, together with the copper plates. In return, Goya's son received a pension.
In his graphic work Goya, a gifted painter and draftsman, chose the technique that most resembled painting: etching. An etching is in fact a print of a design etched into a metal plate. This is obtained as follows. A smooth metal plate (usually copper) is coated with etching-ground, an acid-resistant mixture of wax, resin and asphalt. The design is scratched into this coating with a needle, exposing the metal beneath. The plate is then immersed in an acid bath, in which the mordant bites into the exposed metal, etching in the lines of the design. The finished plate is then coated with ink, which fills the lines. By pressing the plate onto a surface, the design is transferred. A single plate can be used for between 50 and 200 prints. The earliest etching in existence dates from 1513. The etcher can work expressively and suggest 'tones', color nuances between black and white. Rembrandt did this by leaving ink on the plate here and there when making a print. For the grey tones in El Sueño Goya used aquatint, a technique that was new in the eighteenth century. He covered part of the plate with fine grains of resin. The acid could only bite into the plate between these grains. This produced the finely stippled background in black and white.
252 prints at FAMSF
Devouring One of his Sons (1823, 146x83cm) _ detail
The image seems to have arisen in a nightmare: the cannibal god on bended knees, engulfed in darkness; the mad haunted eyes and black-blooded mouth; the rending fingers, threaded with blood, and the ravaged figure in their grasp — like a huge, mad Richard Nixon or Dubya Bush, devouring the young men of the US through their insane wars: a cannibal father, jealous of our freedoms, determined to destroy us, our ideals, our hopes. Critics have called this Saturn a symbol of evil, a Satan, a monster. The painting evokes in the viewer an interior terror, a sense of isolation, loneliness, grief — this god on his knees, tearing apart his own child, enshrouded in a blackness that is like a psychic tar, in a drama of primal murderousness.
This story of fathers and sons is one of the foundation tales of Western tradition: Abraham binding his son Isaac for sacrifice on Mount Moriah; God offering the sacrifice of His son Jesus on the cross. The earliest version of the Kronos myth — Saturn is the later Roman name — was written down by Hesiod in his Theogony, about the eighth century BC.
First comes Chaos; then Earth/Gaia; Tartarus in the bowels of Earth; and finally Eros. Earth gives birth to Heaven, also known as Ouranos, and then bears twelve of his children, the last, "most terrible of sons / The crooked-scheming Kronos."* Earth and Ouranos have three more sons, so fearsome and mighty that Ouranos forces them back inside their mother, burying them alive. She forms a sickle, and asks her other sons to use it against their father, “For it was he / Who first began devising shameful acts.” All are afraid, except Kronos. She gives him the sickle, hides him in her, and he castrates his father, preventing him from having more children, then assumes power among the Titans. But fear lives in his heart; a usurper himself, he learns that one of his own children will usurp him, and he devours them at birth: “As each child issued from the holy womb / And lay upon its mother's knees, each one / Was seized by mighty Kronos, and gulped down.” Through a ruse by his mother, the last born, Zeus, survives, leads a war against Kronos, and casts him down to Tartarus. Even gods cannot overcome Fate.
Goya produced a chalk drawing, Saturn Devouring His Sons, in 1797, most likely influenced by a Rubens painting of the same subject. Both works are illustrative of a literary theme, passionless, even morbidly comic. Rubens's Saturn is out on a stroll, his foot resting momentarily on a stone, one hand holding his staff, the other grasping his meal — his infant son — biting into the boy's chest like a sturdy Flemish burgher stooping to a roast goose. Goya's Titan is cunning-eyed; his mouth, clamped upon his son's leg to the thigh, is turned upwards in a leering grin; the legs of a second son he holds almost daintily, his pinky slightly raised. Neither work is likely to evoke more than a passing grimace from a viewer.
All of this changes with the Saturn of 1824, one of the series known as the Black Paintings. What returned Goya to this subject? What did he recognize in himself that charged the work with such raw, wounding power?
Goya and his wife, Josefa, had between five and twenty children: the exact number is unknown. Only one boy, Javier, survived beyond childhood. Did the early deaths of his other children, reflected upon in the solitude of the Quinta del Sordo — the house he moved into in 1819, seven years after Josefa died — inspire Goya's vision of the cannibal god? Was he portraying his sense of potential cut off, of lives interrupted before they can begin?
This interpretation is inconsistent with the fact that the figure gripped in the giant's hands is no child, but a full grown adult, which leads to another, allied interpretation: Saturn / Kronos as the ancient deity Time, implacable devourer of all humankind.
Shortly before he began the Black Paintings, Goya survived a near fatal illness, documented in his Self-portrait with Dr. Arrieta, where the pained and weary artist, surrounded by dark, phantasmal faces, is ministered to by the doctor. Did Goya, sick, deaf, in his seventies, paint his lonely terror of his own mortality through his Saturn?
But if the giant represents Time, why is he painted on bended knees, with spindly misshapen legs that seem unable to bear the weight of his enormous torso? Is this Goya's sardonic commentary on Spain's recent war with France — presenting a crippled Time, forced to overfeed on the numberless dead? On the dead of all wars? Did the early nineteenth century supply Saturn / Kronos with such quantities of corpses, that Time himself is brought to his knees, his wild eyes bulging, as if he were unable to stomach another bite? Or is the figure a symbol of war itself, the culminating portrait of the horrors he chronicled in his series of etchings, The Disasters of War, in 1810-1820?
Every interpretation of a painting rooted so complexly in the mind of Goya leads, as with dreams, to new interpretations.
In the universe before the coming of Christ, Saturn, frenziedly eating his own child-god, might be seen as engaged in an act of perverse communion. The Christian God sacrificed his son that all humankind might live; the Titan acts out of fear and jealousy, and the body of his child reveals not the mystery of resurrection, but the dark and violent mysteries of the psyche, a Tartarus of blood and madness, where all instincts and emotions merge, and consequence is forgotten. A realm of unconsciousness. Of mutilation and murder.
From this perspective, Saturn might be Goya's warning to humankind, whose wars and wanton cruelties, devotion to superstition and false gods will lead it to dissolution, to the Nada scrawled by the corpse as its last message in the etching, "Nothing. We shall see." (The Disasters of War #69)
And yet, for all the mythological, political, social, historical, and religious meanings we attach to the painting, there is something we still turn away from, the most basic theme — a man destroying his own son. Think of Javier, Goya's only child to survive to adulthood. From the beginning, Goya loved him, pampered him, fretted over him.
Fathers and sons enjoy, or are condemned to, the play of uniquely powerful forces of love and pride, disappointment and dominance, the scales forever unbalanced, sometimes seeming to shift in a single moment, then swaying back. Communications, in the best of circumstances, are infinitely complicated and the effects of Goya's deafness should not be underestimated. It developed in 1793, when Javier was nine, and the use of sign language must have impeded dialogue. What remained unsaid between them? We subtly shade our speech through inflection, expecting understanding. Did Javier feel Goya's eyes always on him — as father, as deaf man, as artist — studying his face for clues to his thoughts?
Goya had hopes that Javier would follow in his footsteps and devote himself to art. In 1803, he presented the plates and the remaining sets of his Caprichos to Charles IV, from whom he obtained a pension of twelve thousand reales for Francisco Javier.
In 1805, Javier married the daughter of a respected, wealthy family from Saragossa. Goya undertook, in the marriage contract, to be financially responsible for the couple, their servants, any children they might have. In his later years, it was said that he had spent most of his wealth on his only child and his daughter-in-law, leaving little for himself. Soon after the marriage, Goya painted a portrait of the twenty-one-year-old Javier. Despite his love and pride, he is an artist, and cannot help but render what he sees: a handsome, foppish, self-regarding young man with a somewhat weak chin, seeming to lacking the depth of character necessary to create great art. At what age did Javier realize that he would never fulfill his father's ambitions for him?
Seven years later, as the war against Napoleon's armies was ending, Josefa died. Javier claimed his mother's inheritance, and when the property was divided, Goya gave to his son the house, library, and, curiously, nearly all his own art work in a collection of seventy-eight paintings and prints, like a man making restitution for genius denied in the blood. He kept for himself only two portraits: the bullfighter Romero, and the Duchess of Alba, the celebrated beauty he had followed to Andalusia in 1795, after she was widowed, and had lived with for almost a year, while Josefa and the twelve-year-old Javier remained in Madrid. In her will, signed during Goya's stay, the Duchess bequeathed a lifetime annuity for Javier.
In 1819, Goya retreated across the Manzanares River on the outskirts of Madrid to his villa, known coincidentally as the Quinta del Sordo. He had already achieved the pre-eminent position of First Painter of the Royal Bedchamber, and was the most famous artist in Spain; survived war, pestilence, famine, a near-fatal illness; endured the deaths of so many loved ones. Surely he had earned, at seventy-three, an existence free of turmoil in the peace of the Quinta, if he so wished. Quickly, he filled the walls with vivid landscapes in lush greens and sky blues; mountains, rivers, donkeys, small figures; even a man dancing with castanets — all revealed in recent years through radiography and stratigraphy.
Then, something happens. Goya suddenly unleashes his art, covering over the colorful landscapes, refusing himself the bland pleasures of the merely picturesque, recognizing in every surface a new opportunity, until the Quinta mirrors his internal world, the meanings personal, all sense of decoration dismissed. Only truth remains. On the dining room wall, two-and-a half feet by four-and-a-half feet, a thick-shouldered, murderous colossus begins to take shape. If he once exposed his son's nature in a portrait, he now strips himself bare with his Saturn.
One more time, we look at the painting. Cover the right side of the face, and we see a Titan caught in the act, defying anyone to stop him, the bulging left eye staring wildly at some unseen witness to his savagery, his piratical coarseness heightened by the sharp vertical lines of the eyebrow, crossed like the stitches of a scar. Cover his left eye, and we are confronted by a being in pain, the dark student gazing down in horror at his own uncontrolled murderousness, the eyebrow curved upwards like an inverted question mark, as if he were asking, "Why am I compelled to do this?"
In this painting one may see, with revulsion, only the image of a gruesome giant, father as devourer. But it may be that a hidden knowledge evoked in Goya his terrible compassion for the cannibal god. The primal battle between fathers and sons is inescapable, the roots of such terrifying instincts too deep to be thoroughly excised. As fathers, we fear not only that we might destroy our sons — through anger, jealousy, fear; through our sometimes desperate love; through a thousand seemingly small sins — but that we secretly intend to destroy them. We want to protect them from the monsters that inhabit their nightmares, only to discover among the faces of those monsters our own.
If human beings are made free only by their admission of their darkest fears and impulses, this admission, unalterably expressed, may have granted Goya a sense of well-being, as did the entire series of Black Paintings. Javier, writing after his father's death, referred to the pleasure Goya had experienced in viewing daily in his house those pictures he had painted for himself with freedom and in accordance with his own genius.
The ancient myth that once provided him with the subject for an unmemorable drawing, becomes, in this late period of his life, the inspiration for uttering the unutterable. It is ironic that the very painting the world sees and shudders at — the image it considers one of the most horrifying in all Western art — may have given its creator peace.
on 16 April 1817: Martin Drölling, French
painter baptized as an infant on 19 September 1752.
— Both Martin Drölling and his son Michel-Martin Drolling [07 Mar 1786 – 09 Jan 1851] were portrait painters; whereas the father expanded his range by concentrating on bourgeois domestic interiors, the son produced a number of history paintings on mythological and religious subjects. Another of Martin Drölling’s three children by his second wife, Louise-Elisabeth (née Belot), was Louise-Adéone Drolling [29 May 1797 – <1831), otherwise known as Mme Joubert; she also practised as a painter. — After receiving initial training from an unknown painter in Sélestat, Drölling moved to Paris, where he attended courses at the Académie Royale. He supplemented his education there by studying Flemish and Dutch Old Masters in the collection at the Luxembourg Palace. From the Flemish school he derived his own rich impasto, while the Dutch was to influence him in his meticulous, supremely descriptive and unsentimental style of painting as well as his choice of subject-matter: unfussy bourgeois interiors and frank portraits. Drölling first exhibited at the Salon de la Correspondance in 1781 and again in 1782 and 1789. After the French Revolution he was able to participate in the Salon at the Louvre, despite the fact that he had never become a member of the Académie Royale. He exhibited from 1793 to 1817, although the majority of his works extant today were shown after 1800. From 1802 to 1813 he was employed by the Sèvres porcelain manufactory, and many of his designs were engraved.
Interieur d'une Cuisine avec une Femme et deux Enfants (1815, 65x81cm; 596x750pix, 138kb; _ ZOOM not recommended to somewhat blurry 1400x1812pix, 371kb) _ a brighter copy (600x735pix, 160kb _ ZOOM not recommended to blurry 1400x1716pix, 368kb)
Sappho et Phaon Chantant leurs Amours dans une Grotte (51x 61cm)
— Joseph Merceron, avocat au Parlement de Paris (1791, 210x144cm)
— A Little Boy Placing a Coral Necklace on a Dog, Both Seated in a Parkland Setting (1804, 32x24cm)
— La Femme et la Souris (1798; 25x35cm; 416x581cm, 115kb gif) et le bébé, et le chat, et le baquet à lessive, et la nature morte... (la souris est dans une trappe que la femme montre au chat).
— Les petits soldats (24x32cm; 448x593pix, 88kb)