Goya, 'The Witchy Brew', c.1820-23

Goya's Black Paintings: 'Some people can hardly even look at them' | Art and design | The Guardian

My eye is firstly drawn to the two figures. The artist has used an unknown light source on the larger figure's face, and the viewer always looks to the light first when looking at a painting, perhaps because the light is usually more comforting and safer than the darkness. But not here. Everything about Goya's black paintings signals danger, signals the Gothic and the supernatural, signals humanity's deepest fears.

The subject material is ambiguous, but it reminds me of Act Four Scene One of Shakespeare's Macbeth - the famous 'double double toil and trouble' scene. The figure of a witch on the left oddly holds a spoon, quite a modern item for someone so separate from society to be welcomed. Perhaps Goya is suggesting the repressed darkness within humanity through this spoon. Even through a simple utensil, the mind races to try and work out what Goya was thinking while he painted this directly onto one of the walls in his house. Beside the woman is a skeletal creature, perhaps death itself, although it has a rather human expression and human hand gestures. Again, Goya could be hinting at the dark side of humanity. Or perhaps hinting at the darkness consuming himself as he painted this on the wall of his own house.

Both the witch and the skeleton are looking into the unknown, the skeleton even craning its neck to see what the woman is seeing. The viewer does not know what this is, and the figure's expression is hard to read - are they smiling with glee? Through the limited colour palette, quick and imperfect brushstrokes and surrounding darkness, Goya has painted a picture breaks all the boundaries. It has the palette of realism, or seventeenth century Spanish images of saints and peasants. It has the imprecision of a half remembered nightmare dredged up from the back of his mind in the morning after a restless night. It is brutally, angrily painted and yet the relationship depicted is tender and intimate. The Black Paintings might show Goya's own descent from respected court painter to fighting his inner demons but ultimately the viewer is left to wonder yet again what is really behind the darkness. They are left to contemplate their inner fears and their own demons.

Comments

Nicola Pisano, 'Adoration of the Magi', Pisa Baptistery Pulpit Panel

In this complex, lively, exciting pulpit panel the eye looks up towards the monumentality of the Virgin, who commands this scene. She is massive and powerful, the largest figure with thick swathes of drapery delineating her forcefully protruding knees out into the viewer's space. Seated but still retaining dominance, she defines the classicising style of Nicola Pisano, witnessed throughout the panels of his pulpit in Pisa. Many writers have described the style - Eloise Angiola for instance, refers to the 'sophisticated understanding of classical prototypes to create heroic human forms' in Nicola's pulpit. Certainly in Pisa the prominent debris from the classical past remained visible and Nicola easily had access to various ancient sarcophagi for direct emulation here. The Virgin's features with her serene expression and curled hair beneath the mantle are in fact quite androgenous. She quickly assumes the position of a monumental Roman Emperor or Senator commanding

Marianne von Werekin, 'Sunrise', 1920

An endless line of men that tug the rope of a small boat soon disappear into murky, burning red waters beyond. Colour is fantastical, mystical and otherworldly, producing an atmosphere far from reality. This is the Symbolist work of Marianne von Werefkin, part of the German Expressionists that worked in Munich from the 1910s. A movement so often dominated by the male names of the time – Kandinsky especially – Werefkin was a vital participant, expanding the range of art produced and displayed, complementing her work with art theory and written sources, as well as creating her own Salon upon her arrival in Munich. It is easy to get lost in biography with a piece such as this. Wasted, human potential seems to be at the heart of this work, signalled by the endless line of men pushing forward towards the edge of the picture plane. There is a sense of struggle and a universality to the suffering through the portrayal of faceless men in similar blue tones. Looking at the date produced of 19

Mark Rothko, 'Light Red over Black', 1957

My eye is not drawn to the painting itself but the title of the painting, 'Light Red Over Black'. We would automatically think that the black is on top of a red background, but Rothko has flipped this around, subverting the title just like he subverting the meaning of what it was to be an artist and what Art actually was. During this time, art was going through rapid changes, with abstract expressionism coming into full force (Rothko, Pollock). But Rothko showed that all this change was for the good, even if for him, it was short lived. The colour red in this painting is searing and the black struggles to fully cover this velvety border, especially at the bottom of the canvas. Unlike the black squares which have a hazy quality to their edges, the red is clear and impregnable. It is hard to figure out what this represents - the Tate has suggested a window perhaps, but if it is a window then what are we looking out into? Perhaps it is night, or perhaps the viewer is catching a

Art and Eye

Search This Blog