19th century French
art is a fascinating period to consider. The century takes paintings from the
Mannerist Classicism of Jacques-Louis David at the end of the 18th
century to the Psychological Symbolist art around the fin-de-siecle. In the midst of this we find the artist Théodore
Géricault whose Raft of Medusa in the
Louvre has become a work of iconic status. Compared even with the Eugene Delacroix’s
which hang opposite this monumental piece in a gallery in the Louvre, Gericault
seems particularly skilled in heightening the drama of this work to
unfathomable desperation. The humanity of The
Massacre at Chios (painted by Eugene Delacroix in 1824) is lost slightly,
but at the expense of some deeper level of expression.
It is possible to suggest that
this ‘mystery’ is apparent even in Gericault’s earliest works. Prancing Grey Horse, a sketch in the
Burrell Collection in Glasgow, is one such example of this. It is a sketch for An Officer of the Chasseurs Commanding a
Charge painted in 1812 (also in the Louvre), which shows a lavishly dressed
officer on the horse. The sketch omits the figure making the painting more
about an analogy between the fierce power of the horse and the idea of human
war, but in a way which defies conventions of symbolic iconographical language
in paintings. The intrigue of this sketch lies in the depth and complexity
connecting the style of painting and the subject matter which – at first glance
– suggested some other-worldly, mythological story or creature; this is a very
dark painting in terms of its themes, and not at all easy to decipher, either
in terms of its physical representation, or the artists motives and ambitions.
Géricault was
just 21 when he painted and submitted An
Officer of the Chasseurs Commanding a Charge to the Salon in Paris; it is
an ambitious work on a grand scale. At the time of painting it Géricault was a
student of the artist Pierre-Narcisse Guérin’s, and as such was involved in a
compositional programme devised by him. It is interesting to note that all the
artists involved in this programme (who included Delacroix) were preoccupied
with the sketch and its value, as a piece of art in itself. This is apparent in
the fact that Gericault prepared for this work solely with oil sketches (of
which Prancing Grey Horse is one)
rather than preparatory drawings: a brave decision for such a grand work so
early in his career.
At the time of painting this
work, there was a change in fashion and techniques in painting which resulted
in a move away from the heavily ordered delineation of the Neo-Classical French
style toward one which was altogether more spontaneous, and it was perhaps this
– along with his training from Guérin – that encouraged Géricault in the
freedom of the application of paint in this sketch. Géricault paints with wild
and loose brushstrokes, which heighten the drama of the work and delineates the
untamed movement of the horse. It is around the tail and mane of the horse that
we can most easily differentiate the individual brushstrokes, and it is through
these parts of the horse that the motion of the scene is most effectively
conveyed.
The wildness of the horse is also
shown through the contortion of its body. The chest of the horse is side-ways
on to the viewer, but the back legs face us more. This composition does not in
any way feel posed or forced, rather this twist of the body acts to further
describe the horses feral movement; it seems to show a struggle of forces even
within the horse itself.
In this painting, it is the horse
which is overtly the focus of everything. It appears luminous against the
darkness of the rest of the work, which perhaps is what gives the work its’
mythical and fantastical – even nightmarish – themes. The horse seems to be
surrounded by a gleam of light, like a halo of some sort, and because Géricault
has positioned the creature surprisingly high up in the composition, we get the
sense that it is not grounded in the worldly sphere, but represents some higher
concept or truth.
It is possible that in this work,
Géricault is drawing an analogy between the brutal forces of nature – as
anthropomorphised in this creature – and the effects of human warfare. The
armour on the horses back evokes themes of war and conflict, but it is in the
colour and style of the painting that Géricault most obviously draws this
comparison. The painting of the mane and tail is like a fire blazing, an idea
that is echoed by the orange gleam behind the horses rearing chest, suggesting
a fire burning somewhere in the distance. The painting is grounded in the earthy
and deep browns of the foreground, whilst the green hues behind the horse seem
to remind us of the oppressive atmosphere of the air around it. Perhaps more
tenuously, the underside of the horse’s mane is painted with blue-green hues
with touches of white, and seems to allude to the overwhelming and devastating
force of a tidal wave. In this way, it is possible to suggest that Géricault sought
to reference each of the four basic natural elements (earth, fire, wind and
water), and uses these to liken the horse – and the human war in which the
horse will fight – to the brutal and oppressive worldly forces of nature.
This idea of the horse being an
analogy for worldly forces and concepts is reflected in Géricault’s painting
techniques. The work is mostly smooth and highly finished, but again it is the
figure of the horse which is the exception to this. The application of paint is
much thicker and more dynamic on the horse, and therefore this part of the
canvas does not shine in the varnish like the rest of the work. This appears as
a shock of real tangible matter in the middle of the canvas. Also it seems that
the artist is keen to tie the creature to the earthy surroundings in the work
as the blue, green and brown hues of the background are echoed on the horses’
neck and tail.
The painting has quite a limited
palette, but Gericault uses colours which contrast in an interesting way. The
background is described through deep, warm browns and greens, which balance
each other on alternate sides of the horse. Because the horse is painted with
similar colours to the background, only with a luminous quality, we are aware
of this creature in some way emerging from the background, out of the gloaming,
which heightens the drama of the piece further. It is also interesting to note
that a very few, small touches of the golden hue used for the horses armour is
repeated in the far background on the right side of the painting. Is this
possibly the suggestion of some sort of far off civilisation in this barren
landscape?
Despite the horse acting as an
analogy for the devastating violence of warfare and of nature, the painting of
this creature still displays the sensitivity that Géricault often affords to
the animals he paints. The subtle blending of colour and the impasto technique
used for the horses head and face presents a gentleness about this animal which
is reminiscent of Géricault’s Head of a
Lion. This gentleness is at odds with the general ferocity of the image as
a whole, but successfully expresses that this animal is not bad or evil, but
simply immensely powerful. Perhaps in this Géricault is commenting on the
horrifically dramatic consequences of war, despite the individual soldiers
being good and gentle people.
This work employs very interesting tensions between
the idea of a fantastical and mythical creature, and the very worldly ideas of
the brute force of nature. Géricault uses colour to ground the creature in the
landscape, whilst also employing a luminous lighting effect and thicker impasto
paint application on the horse to set it apart from this background. The
painting effectively speaks of the drama of war and of natural forces, tying
these together in the wild creature, which is also a tool for the civilised
war. This animal is hugely powerful and set in this barren landscape displays a
brutal force, and yet there is still a gentleness in the way Géricault paints
it which perhaps allows empathetic emotion for the theme of warfare in this
work.
Sources:
Bell, Julian, Mirror of the World: A New History of Art
(New York: Thames and Hudson, 2007).
Boime, Albert, The Academy and French Painting in the
Nineteenth Century (London: Phaidon Publishers Inc., 1971).
Crow, Thomas, ‘Classicism in
Crisis: Gros to Delacroix’ in Nineteenth
Century Art: A Critical History, ed. Stephen F. Eisenman (London: Thames
and Hudson, 3rd edition, 2007).
No comments:
Post a Comment