Historian Simon Schama’s landmark series The Power Of Art 2006 is divided into 8 parts with each dedicated to a famous painter, in this episode he takes on David, from France. He deals with him almost like you would with a war criminal, ascribing violence to him that is at least sophisticated, unlike the base and uncontrolled violence that he had previously ascribed to Caravaggio of Italy.
If art has the power to inspire in generally positive ways, it also has the power to inspire in negative and even violent ways as well. Jacques-Louis David, the French painter of the 18th century was certainly an example of the later.
Of course, he probably most famous for his The Death of Marat 1793, but even in his earlier work one can find an idealistic violent turn of philosophy that would lead him into the arms of a revolution and onto the back of The Terror—through art and visual oration (since David could not speak properly). 3 works come to mind that provide that evidence of a mind thinking in violent ways about death and “justice.” The first The Oath of Horatii 1784, the call to violent arms, the Roman salute (looking much like the salute that Nazis adopted in WWII), and the wailing of women, almost scream from a mind that later vote for the death of a king and idealize a violent man with a nasty skin disease (Marat). I’m told that this painting has something to do with trying to bring Rousseau’s “social contract” into visual depiction. What I see, is something a lot darker than that. If this is a depiction of the Republic (of Rome) the future of what these violent men had in mind for their own homeland starts to come into focus—no monarchy is needed, or indeed, wanted. It is as if David is invoking something that he’s sees as the past and a state that the honorable fighting men must somehow return to, even though there was never anything like this in the past in France. An oath, almost, to do harm.
Next is The Death of Socrates 1787. While widely seen to be in keeping the proper political climate of the time; what I see when I gaze at this is that had to come from the mind of a man who is quite egotistical. Of course, there are political reasons why the characters are depicted here, Plato, Socrates’ wife (wait did Socrates even have a wife??) and student Crito, amongst others, all witnesses to Socrates last “sermon.” Curiously, David makes Plato appear much older than the condemned and soon to be dying Socrates. What strikes me as egoistical about this is Socrates himself. Being handed the hemlock drink, he is seen to be taking it without even looking, he’s too busy recklessly and emphatically insisting, complete with what seems to be a rude pointing of the finger. There is a defiance here that strikes me as a bit dangerous, despite the obvious beauty of the brush work itself. But, this sort of also seems to me a transitional painting for David. Perhaps it was because he did not receive royal recognition for this undoubtedly masterful work, he cemented, it seems, a permanently bad opinion of the monarchy. We do not see another painting from the artist like this ever again. That would mean that for all of his exposing of good for the masses—his real reason for getting involved with The National Convention was personal and petty. [I am by no means trying to suggest that the monarchy was good for the country, merely that the men who took it out, were far from heroic.]
The last of these three, The Lictors Bring to Brutus the Bodies of His Sons 1789 is positively subversive. David returns again to the notion of Republic in what seems a kind of finishes what he started in Oath of Horatii. If Oath is a kind of call to arms to defend the Republic, here is that outcome. These are the bodies of the young men, who have given their lives defending the said Republic. Oh wait, they are defending the right of monarchy in said Republic; and it is their father who has them executed for their troubles. What is truly subversive here is that he is showing a serious understanding that people die in wars of government; that families will kill each other over notions of rule. David, of course, like many in France had a misguided appreciation of the so-called “American Revolution.” These people, mostly men, allowed this misunderstanding to literally fester into a kind fervent flame in their minds—missing that the war here was really one of independence, there was very little true “revolutionary” elements to it at all. With this painting, David has crossed the line. He is no longer concerned about “if.” With the laying out of these young dead men(murdered?, sacrficed? executed?)—the painting seems to be saying is now about “when”—there is a kind fatalistic enevibility to this image. Brutus is seen in the fore-ground clearly defiant, despite that it supposed to be an image of a kind of honest and grieved defeat, and, well lets face it, he looks a bit crazed! Really, he did the right thing, didn't he!! It's totally understandable--only it's not. If David thought this was one image of the acceptance of the cost of Republic, he was wrong. What does he think he’s doing, having Brutus stare out at us like this? It is not a heroic image at all. The painting is also a bit schizophrenic. Brutus’ sons die actually trying to restore the monarch of Rome, not tear it down and lop it’s head off--they are martyrs. So we are supposed to think the father understandable in his actions? This is not Titus and the sons are not the willing sacrifice of dishonorable rape. Of course, by the time he finished this painting, the French Revolution had started and the Bastille had already fallen. It was so inflammatory that it was initially denied exhibition; the key moment comes when “the people” become outraged at the royal refusal to allow it’s hanging—the royals gave in. It is not a moment that gets pointed to very often as a serious turning point toward populace chaos and fanatical executions—but it was at that little moment, when the royals allowed students to hang this painting for public gaze—well, it was all over for the monarchy. David, you may be aware of, is the artist who simply sketches the Queen, Marie Antoinette just before her execution on the Guillotine—this little sketch is almost as famous of his painting attempting (and largely failing) to apotheoses Marat in a bathtub.
Simon Schama, is, of course, much better at this type of analyze than I am—I highly recommend this series. It’s all not quite a bleak as David.
No comments:
Post a Comment