Posts Tagged ‘Girodet’

French Romanticism: Subject Matter and the Artist

French Romanticism:  Subject Matter and the Artist

The Romantic was Janus-faced, facing the present and commenting upon it while turning away for current events in order to yield to the lure of fantasy, legend, myth, and exoticism.  On one hand, Jean-Antoine Gros called attention to the human costs of Napoléon’s brutal wars in Napléon at Eylau in 1818, and, on the other hand, Jean-Auguste Dominique Ingres retreated into Nordic myth in his Dream of Ossian of 1813 and his charming paintings of troubadour legends.  On one hand, Girodet produced a reverie of eroticism with his Sleep of Endymion in 1791 as the opening volley of Romanticism and Géricault explored the limits of Romanticism with his portraits of insane people and his renditions of severed limbs. One did not have to be an avant-garde artist to be “Romantic,” for the avant-garde was just beginning to form.  One did not have to challenge Academic standards to be Romantic, for the Academy could very well accommodate exciting contemporary narratives, as long as they were correctly painted or sculpted.  Although associated with bold color and visible brushstrokes, Romanticism is not a style, nor is it a particular content, nor is it a rebellion against authority.  The successful and celebrated Romantic artists wanted to be accepted by the academic powers and vied for position and honors within the Salons.  For many of these artists, their reputation as “romantic rebels” rests upon a few works of art.   Most of the Romantic artists were part of the establishment and did not live the life of an outside artist, unappreciated and scorned by the forces of the status quo.  The myth of the Romantic artist has been entangled anachronistically with that of the avant-garde, and the full-blown outsider movements of Realism and Impressionism were decades away.

The so-called rebelliousness of the Romantic artists is less political than entrepreneurial, linked more directly to the loss of traditional patrons: church, state, and aristocrats.  The Romantic artist acted as an opportunist or a performance artist who sought to both slide past the conservative jury of the Salon and also to shock the spectators with spectacular and entertaining art. The art audience had become more and more middle class, which attended the Salons in large numbers.  The bourgeoisie, the crowd, the mob must be addressed in some fashion.  Fueled by fashions, literature and restless aggressive politics, the public developed a taste for scenes of sex and violence unsanctioned by the Academy and swooned over the newly discovered beauties of Nature.  The public had little interest in erudite academic subject matter and gravitated towards the familiar and the market for genre painting and landscape painting began to develop, inspiring artists to concentrate their efforts in these areas that were not supported by the academic hierarchy and hence were open professional territories for ambitious artists.

Landscape painting began to free itself from its traditional role as a backdrop for a narrative in the foreground, and “pure” landscape, painted for pure pleasure and free of moralizing became more and more popular.  Like still lives, landscapes could fit into any home and was acceptable to any taste, and did not offend any political opinions.  The so-called lower genres were directed not so much towards the academy but to a public that was inclined to buy decorative art. The most important group of landscape painters was the Barbizon School, located in the village of Barbizon in the Forest of Fountainebleau.  Artists such as Theodore Rousseau and Narcisse Diaz sketched in situ but finished the paintings in their studios.  They shared, along with many Romantic painters, a new concern for direct observation of Nature at its most natural and most accurate.  The Barbizon artists followed the Claudian precepts of the beautiful but they were distinctly modern in their refusal to include narrative in the painting.  These artists, such as Constantin Troyon, produced “pure landscapes.”  At the other end of the spectrum from marketable landscapes, the public taste for the strange and the exotic was also linked to economics.  The “Orient”, the “East” became open territory to be subdued and conquered by the Western Europeans who were beginning another phase of unchecked imperialism.  The delight in the themes of sex and violence, imagined by the European to be part and parcel of the Middle East, was fueled as much by sexual desires as by imperial pride.  A large number of artists, called “Orientalists” imagined the mysterious East as a place of harems and beheadings, inhabited by an alien and violent people who could only benefit from benevolent French rule.

Although the aristocrats, old and new, were restored to power during Napoléon’s rule and after the Restoration of Louis XVIII, the new audience for art was largely middle class.  The Romantic artist was sundered from traditional conservative artistic styles, separated from traditional patronage, and stripped of the historical social role as servant to higher powers. From the fall of Napoléon on, the artist was forced to re-invent him/herself as a social being and was forced to re-create a new cultural place and new purpose for unsanctioned art.  The imported German idea of “art-for-art’s-sake” fulfilled multiple purposes, providing art and the artist with a new and exalted role in society.  The artist had to be a free and independent creator who was an innovator and pushed art to change.  As the new aesthetic theories gained a following, the art world began to splint between the avant-garde who rebelled and displeased the public and the academics who conformed and pleased the audience.  By 1835, the writer and art critic, Théophile Gautier attacked conventional critics for their adherence to ideas of decorum and good taste.  In the preface to Madamoiselle de Maupin, Gautier advocated for beauty and art for their own sakes.  For the artist to be free to express original and personal feelings, art should have no useful purpose. Although these ideas give new impetus to art and a new place in society to the artist, they also begin the separation between the artist and the public that will be accelerated by the Revolution of 1848 in France.

Seen in the literary and the visual arts, Romanticism was an international movement and a cultural rejection of the Enlightenment and its stress on objective reason and rational thinking.   Romanticism was subjective and the ultimate truth was individual emotions, feelings, and expression. This shift from the objective to the subjective, from object to subject, or the individual, as the source of truth was a radical transformation in Western thought, perhaps the logical consequence of Protestant emphasis on individuality and European hopes for a political democracy.  The artist became important to society in a new way: not as an explicator of moral ideals, but as a “genius,” a seer who brought, through art, new insights into life.  Although a new critical vocabulary was created as aesthetics moved to the center as artistic concern, the Romantic artists offered no coherent programme nor did they have a common goal.  Wrapped up in their sense of individuality, artists produced works of art that proclaimed individual personalities and the originality that was the prerogative of the genius. Romanticism, as a challenge to academicism, was associated with forces of disorder and anarchy and revolution.  As an extension, drawing and low key color, disciplined stylistics, and a smooth “licked” surface in painting and sculpture, characteristic of Neoclassicism, became politically tied to the state.  Color, rough painting or impastoed facture became politically tied to the emotions that might lead to unrestrained social behavior.  Politics aside, most so-called Romantic artists, such as Delacroix, were actually politically quiet conservative, as are most artists because social and political stability are necessary for art making to be possible.

If you have found this material useful, please give credit to
Dr. Jeanne S. M. Willette and Art History Unstuffed.  Thank you.
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Podcast 10 The French Romantics: Gros and Girodet, Part One

THE EARLY ROMANTICS: GROS AND GIRODET

Although the French Revolution caused an upheaval in French art, there was an attempt to use Neo-Classicism to return to the pure and historical origins of art.  However, compelling contemporary events and a new regime interested in using art as propaganda worked against the dominance of Neo-Classicism in the Academy.  Even before the term was applied, “Romantic” art began to appear.  The earliest of the French Romantic artists were the Napoléonic painters, Gros and Girodet.  Both students of David, the young artists uneasily made the transition from the Neo-Classicism of their master to the demands of the new century.  In their early works, Gros and Girodet represented the poles of Romanticism: contemporary subjects and escapist subjects.

Part Two will examine the artists’ later works.

 

 

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The Artistic Revolution in France

The Artistic Revolution in France

Two social events would impact artists and art, especially in France.  The first event was the French Revolution, which forced artists to choose between King and Country and eliminated the traditional patrons, the Church and the aristocrats.  The second event was a long, ongoing process: the rise of the middle class as a group that would dominate economically and politically and thus constitute a new buying public for art.  In the decades before the French Revolution, the middle class had made itself known to the artists.  Although impressed by history painting, this class was interested in domestic themed art for middle class interiors.  In addition to being pushed by new collector demands, the artist was increasingly beholden to the opinions of art critics.  Any artist who wished to succeed in the Salon had to go through a set of educational and professional motions, including the Ecole des Beaux-Arts and the Prix de Rome and recognition in the Salon by the established powers—-the State, the Church, and the wealthy patrons.  The French Revolution upended the state-based system of educating and rewarding artists, but only for a time.  During the Revolution, artists either participated in propagandizing the aims and ideals of the cause or risked being denounced and imprisoned.  One of the most important painters for the French Royal family,  Jacques-Louis David,  proved to be an agile and adroit political opportunist and quickly turned his coat and put himself in the service of the Revolution.  He even went to far as to sign warrants which led to the imprisonment of his colleagues while he designed and built huge works of public art, rather like the Rose Bowl floats of today, that advertized the Revolution and awed the spectators.  At the end of the worst part of the Terror, David joined his imprisoned colleagues in the Luxembourg Palace.  He was lucky not to have been beheaded as were his sponsors.  David’s pupils, Jean-Antoine Gros and Anne-Louis Girodet Roussey de Trison, were able to ride out the Revolution in Italy, safely away from the changing fortunes of artists unwise enough to play politics.

David emerged from prison somewhat chastened but quickly attached himself to the next rising star, Napoleón Bonaparte, already a patron to Gros.  The end of the Eighteenth Century was an age of hero worship and Napoleón rewarded those who worshiped him.  Once sanity returned and stability replaced civil war and chaos, the new régime, the Directory quickly restored the system of art education, complete with the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, the Rome Prize, and all of the academic rules and regulations that, if followed, would lead to Salon success.  But the demands upon the artist had changed.  The old patrons were gone and new powers awaited the artists.  The state under Napoleón embarked upon nearly two decades of propagandistic art, celebrating the new Emperor and his court. Neoclassicism, already an important style before 1789, had been employed as the style of the Revolution by David, who was now the most important artist of the Empire.  Responding to the needs of the new heroes, Neoclassicism retained its carefully classical style—-clear outlines and cool colors and balanced composition—-but was dramatized by exciting narratives suitable to an age of glory and conquest.

It is here, in these military narratives, that the germs of Romanticism can be discerned.  Early Neoclassicism did not favor diagonals and action and motion, but under the Emperor, excitement and drama ruled.  That said, the official style of the Empire was given over to the same traditional role as had always been expected of artists—–supporting the established powers.  Although during these Napoleónic years, ideas of Romantic aesthetics from Germany were imported to France, art-for-art’s-sake and artistic freedom were still in the future.  The artists had to please new masters, the Emperor, the Salon jury, and the bourgeoisie.  Most of all the artist had to conform to the Salon system itself, now refined and more important than ever.  By the beginning of the Nineteenth Century, a new power, the middle class, the bourgeoisie, was firmly in social, economic, and political power, despite the comings and goings of various emperors and kings.  This middle class was an art-loving class.  They knew little about art but knew that they like to be entertained.  Thousands came to art exhibitions called Salons that were state-run and state-supported advertisements for academically trained artists.  The Salon was the only avenue of economic opportunity for the French artist who needed to make a living.  Scheduled for every year or every other year, depending on which régime was in power, the Salons were huge exhibitions drawing from artists around the world.  The French public crowded in by the thousands, expecting to be delighted and amused, rather like we are pleased (or not) by contemporary film.

For the French artist, the annual Salon was the one chance to show and to become known.  To be refused—rejected from the Salon—was to be a failure, a refusée, until the following year.  Merely being accepted was not a guarantee of success.  Paintings were hung floor to ceiling and, of course, each painter wanted his/her work to be hung at eye level and not “skied,” that is, hung high, or hung low.  Prominent artists could demand that their works be hung where the public could see them easily.  The most successful painters were those who pleased both the public and the Academy juries.  Sculpture in the Salons adhered to the Neoclassical style but what the audience saw were small-scale works or casts or maquettes for future public projects.  Often the smaller works would be placed upon a crowded table and the sculptors suffered from the same kind of limitations to ideal viewing as the painters.  The Salon was a room of hierarchies that went beyond what the jury liked or not.  History painting reigned supreme, prized because the difficult and didactic compositions, crowded with ancient notables, mostly partially nude, displayed the artist’s erudition and education.  Only an artist educated in the Ecole would be capable of drawing and composing a group of figures.  Only an artist educated in the Ecole would be educated enough to understand the minutia of ancient history.  Other artists, especially women, would be confined, due to lack of education to lower ranking genres, such as genre scenes and portraiture and still lives.  In these years before modern art galleries and collecting, the Salon was the only game in town and artists had little choice but to accept the rigorous rule of a conservative elite, disinclined to be open-minded to new artistic ideas.

But new ideas were already present to those who were alert to such things.  The clash of realism and romanticism was present in the propaganda art of Gros, the blatant eroticism of Girodet, and the offbeat choice of content by Théodore Géricault.  The French Revolution may have ended in yet another oppressive regime under a new Emperor but it had introduced the idea of individual rights and freedom.  Neoclassicism essentially ended with the reign of Napoleón, and an artistic revolution began to emerge.  Denied political rights and freedom, artists began to resist the demands for the status quo from the Salon juries and took a more independent path.  Born of political disillusionment, a new attitude began to take shape.  The artist demanded the right to freedom of expression as an art maker, which, in these early years of Romanticism, played itself out mostly along the lines of style and the way in which materials were handled. Both inside and outside the Academy there was the pressing and urgent quarrel between the Poussinistes (the proponents of line in art and discipline in society) and the Rubenistes (the proponents of color in art and individual freedom in society).

This quarrel was a challenge to the dominance of Neoclassicism and the Salon system, which controlled artists.  But the quarrel was more than stylistic; it was political.  The dominant art form was connected to the dominant social system. These conflicts, no matter how they are labeled, seem to break down into philosophical positions, which seem to extend far beyond any disagreements as to style or subject matter.  Neoclassicism vs. Romanticism is really a conflict about emotion vs. reason, which is really a conflict about which should be supreme in art, color (emotion) or line (reason)?  The question of line versus color is really a political conflict about who should rule, the people  (feelings) or the state (order) were social conflicts concerning democracy vs. the ruling caste. The conflict over individual freedom opposed to the state’s traditional control over the art makers is really a conflict between the lone, romantic genius artist inventing new forms as opposed to the powers of the Academy.  During this era, the beaux-arts had a far more important and prominent place in society than today; and the State government of France kept careful control over artistic production, understanding all too well that an artist could speak directly to the people.

If you have found this material useful, please give credit to
Dr. Jeanne S. M. Willette and Art History Unstuffed.  Thank you.
info@arthistoryunstuffed.com

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