Sir Joshua Reynolds, Self Portrait, about 1780. Royal Academy of Arts, London. © Royal Academy of Arts, London
Siba Matti finds herself suitably impressed with the National Gallery's unabashedly romantic investigation of artists who have suffered for their art.
The image of the artist as a tortured soul, a rebel struggling against the constraints of society, has become a powerful myth clouding the artistic and popular imagination.
Rebels And Martyrs: The Image Of The Artist In The 19th Century, running at the National Gallery until August 28 2006, traces the development of this myth, from its emergence as part of late 18th century Romanticism, through to the early 20th century and the avant-garde.
It brings together works by some of the world’s best-known artists, including Gauguin, Van Gogh, Renoir, Picasso and Manet, and considers how they responded to Romantic ideas of creativity.
Chatterton (1856) by Wallis, Henry. Tate, London. © Tate 2006
The exhibition is split into roughly chronological sections, beginning with Hero Of The Establishment, a time where ambitious artists longed to make a name for themselves. They were proud to be linked to those with influence and power and honoured to be admitted into London’s prestigious Royal Academy of Arts, or its equally respectable Paris counterpart, the Academie Royale de Peinture et Sculpture.
These ideals are manifested in a Sir Joshua Reynolds self-portrait. Wearing the wine coloured robes of a doctor of civil law, the honorary degree bestowed upon him by Oxford University, he makes for a very distinguished figure indeed.
This is compared to the Romantics, who echoed the more austere feelings attributed to artistry. Far from desiring acceptance and acknowledgement from academics, Romantic artists were more concerned with developing a unique artistic vision, even if this meant living a life of isolation.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, The Inn of Mere Anthony (1866). Nationalmuseum, Stockholm. © The National Museums of Fine Arts, Stockholm
Gustave Courbet’s self portrait, The Desperate Man, not seen in public for almost 30 years, epitomises this sentiment perfectly. Eyes bulging and clenched fists tearing at his hair, it pictures a man driven to despair and desperation.
One of the exhibition’s most moving portraits is by Henry Wallis of Thomas Chatterton. Chatterton was a starving artist and poet who, in despair, poisoned himself with arsenic at the tender age of 17. His flowing red hair provides a powerful contrast against his deathly pale, blue-tinged skin. Not only did Chatterton inspire the likes of Wordsworth, Keats and Coleridge, his death immortalised him as the archetypal tortured artist.
By the mid 19th century, Romantic ideals had paved the way for the defining period of ‘bohemia’ - youthful artists living in Paris who were penniless but independent and adventurous, who spent their days by either painting, or sitting in cafes discussing politics with their fellow companions.
Gustave Courbet, Self Portrait (The Desperate Man), about 1843. © Private Collection, by courtesy of BNP Paribas Art Advisory
Pierre Auguste Renoir’s The Inn of Mere Antony depicts three artists deep in conversation while enjoying tea and pastries. Despite their shabby appearance, the eye is drawn to their relaxed, frown-free faces; although poor, their lives were obviously far more carefree than those of the stress-laden Romantics.
The movement also became associated with radical politics, with many bohemians ardently opposed to conformity and convention, in particular Gustave Courbet. The Meeting (Bonjour Monsieur Courbet) illustrates his attempts to flee the bourgeois government and live the life of a savage.
During the 1860s, however, this concept became so trite that it was often believed that anyone who challenged the bourgeois was bohemian. Critics were astounded to see a portrait of Manet by Ignace-Theodore-Henri Fantin-Latour showing his subject dressed impeccably in a top hat, suit and gloves. Art lovers had wrongly assumed that Manet’s rebellious art would be reflected in his appearance.
Edouard Manet (1867) by Fantin-Latour, Ignace-Henri-Théodore. The Art Institute of Chicago, Illinois. © 2002 The Art Institute of Chicago, All Rights Reserved
Portraits of other artists like Whistler, Otto Eckmann and Aubrey Beardsley all mirror Manet’s immaculate dress sense, marking the era of the Dandy And The Flaneur, men about town who were fashionable, modern and often middle class.
But attitudes had shifted again by the late 1890s. Priest, Seer, Martyr, Christ denotes a time where the role of the artist was to reveal spiritual truth. In Agony in the Garden, a representation of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, awaiting crucifixion, Gauguin has given Christ his own features, and Van Gogh’s flame-red hair.
A self-portrait of Richard Gerstl recalls the image of the risen Christ, ironic considering the artist was Jewish. Instead, it is thought that the work expresses Gerstl’s persecution as an artist, as opposed to any religious symbolism. Nonetheless, identifying art with Christ can only pose the question: does suffering make an artist?
Modersohn-Becker, Paula, Self Portrait (1906). © Kunstsammlugen Böttcherstrasse/Paula Modersohn-Becker Museum, Bremen
The exhibition concludes with Creativity And Sexuality, which unearths representations of female artists during the 19th century. Although women managed to achieve substantial success, they were often either cast as temptresses, distracting the artist from his work, or in a supporting role, their talent obscured by men.
This is a notable feature of Lovis Corith’s Self Portrait With Model. The ‘model’ is in fact Charlotte Berend, an artist in her own right, but by standing with her back facing the viewer, she remains anonymous, and thus of less importance.
However, this is challenged by Paula Modersohn-Becker’s Self Portrait. Despite the fact she portrayed herself with a rounded belly, she was not pregnant, and had left her husband to pursue her artistic career. Her belly symbolises this artistic fertility, making her stand out as a strong, independent female artist.
Nonetheless, it is clear that, whether ambitious or rebellious, mature or contemporary, an artist’s path to creative enlightenment is by no means an easy one.
