|
The years surrounding the French Revolution, which began in 1789, were filled with monumental changes in social and political thought. Artists played an important part in contributing to and maintaining the revolutionary fervour of the people, using idealised images to appeal to literate and illiterate alike. Art had been used to indoctrinate and educate people in preceding centuries, although on a smaller scale than that used by the French Republic. The French use of art as propaganda at this time was so ubiquitous and was presented on such a grand scale that historians have viewed its use as an early forerunner of modern totalitarian regimes. Both the French and English came to view art, not as purely decorative and fanciful, but as a powerful means to edify and influence the opinions of the populace, through patriotic painting or through caricature. The art of Jacques Louis David (1748 - 1825) is representative of Revolutionary art in France, and his paintings and drawings are not only excellent works of art in the neo-classical tradition, but had a powerful impact on the people who saw them. His art depicted ideals that were to become central to the Revolution. Later, his work was used as not-so-subtle propaganda for the head of government, the Committee of Public Safety. David stressed the virtue of fighting for one's country, the importance of fraternity and equality, and the glorification of Revolutionary martyrs. Across the Channel in England, however, the values portrayed in David's deeply emotive and patriotic work were deftly reversed in sometimes subtle, often blatant attacks through the propaganda of popular English caricatures. The English saw what was happening in France during the Terror of the early 1790s and feared that calls to reform their own system would result in a situation as chaotic and violent as that in France. To prevent this, caricatures ridiculing the French and criticising their actions were widely disseminated in order to reinforce the stability of the English system of government. In the midst of political upheaval in France, each country sought to appeal to their citizens through the popular medium of art in order to represent their own ideals and sway popular sentiment.
Across the Channel, the events taking place in France were viewed from a much different perspective. Although the English had, in principle, supported the French people's call for reform, they were more sceptical of the methods that had been used to achieve it. The Englishman Thomas Rowlandson subtly undermined the values idealised in French art of the Revolution in his two caricatures that contrasts English and French barracks. Published in 1791, about the time when English sentiment shifted from one of mild support of the French Revolution to bitter criticism of what they saw as its excesses, caricatures of this kind became a kind of anti-revolutionary propaganda. The values of serenity, courage, and noble bearing idealised by the French are deftly transferred to the simple and orderly English soldiers in their barracks. The French, conversely, appear not only emaciated from their stereotypical diet of frogs and thin stews, but vain in their long wigs and oversized boots, and disorderly, as their crowded numbers testify. The French, as depicted by Rowlandson, can hardly be said to resemble the courageous men depicted in paintings such as David's, whereas the handsome English soldiers come much closer to the classical ideal. This mild rebuke of the French was to intensify. Edmund Burke's propaganda pamphlet of 1790, entitled Reflections on the French Revolution, had helped to shift public sentiments away from support for reform to the English system to those in which the Revolution and all its trappings were viewed as horrific, dangerous, and even threatening to parliament. Any value in the Revolution taking place in France was downplayed to the English public, just as the inherent goodness of the English and the English political system were perpetuated in caricatures such as these. ![]() Jacques-Louis David's patriotism and
devotion to the state was given further expression in a 1790
commission. The artist was asked to portray the historic
event of the Oath of the Tennis Court, the first open act of
formal resistance to royal will, a commission that he
enthusiastically accepted. Although only a rough sepia
drawing was completed by the Salon of 1791, it was
nevertheless made into an engraving and widely distributed
to the public, and it was prominently displayed in Jacobin
Club meeting halls. The portrayal of the historic gathering
and oath taken by the newly-formed National contains mostly
members of the Third Estate who had been locked out of their
meeting hall, those citizens who were neither clergy nor
nobility (although David does depict members from all three
David never finished the painting. Instead, the artist was commissioned to design and plan increasing numbers of politically-motivated festivals "of the people, by the people, and for the people". Revolutionaries and reformers recognised the importance of ceremony and common symbolism in replacing, both physically and ideologically, the trappings of the old Regime. All forms of media, from art to architecture, to written catechisms and pamphlets, were utilised to disseminate Revolutionary ideals to the public. The Jacobin faction, of which David was a prominent member, sought to thoroughly indoctrinate the public by the sheer ubiquitousness of Republican imagery and spectacle, directing all art forms to a single political and moral purpose. The goal of the Republic was to have images of noble deeds or the likeness of great individuals on every building and public square for the constant edification of French citizens. Where the monuments to royalty or to the Church had once stood, new monuments were planned and new observances held to draw the new Republic together. The Festival of Unity and Indivisibility, held on August 10, 1793, was designed with just such a purpose, to impress upon the minds of the masses the power of the Revolution's (and the Jacobin's) communal and political ideals. Hundreds of designs for temples, squares, amphitheatres, and parks to commemorate and celebrate the Revolution were submitted to the Committee of Public Safety. Among the designs, most of which were never built, was a structure to be placed in the courtyard of the Palais national (the re-named Tuileries Palace). In a design reminiscent of the grand colonnade of St. Peter's Basilica, Rome, statues representing republican virtues were to be set atop a number of pedestals all supported by a common circular base on which were to be inscribed the Declaration and Constitution. New symbols of the revolution, such as the Bonnet, the Level, the Pike, and the Cockade, as well as new 'deities' such as the goddesses of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity were prominently used in allegorical painting, architecture, and sculpture. Such figures were often referred to in religious terms, resulting in what one contemporary referred to as "cette religion civile". All artists were encouraged to produce more and more art espousing revolutionary and republican ideals to keep up with the demand for morally edifying and propagandist works. Not since the Counter-Reformation of the seventeenth century had art played such a vital role in the dissemination of a single doctrine. England, however, did not embrace the idealised scenario of people from all walks of life drawn together in glorious pursuit of freedom from despotism, as portrayed in David's painting of the Oath of the Tennis Court and as envisioned by the Jacobin faction in their public symbols and spectacles. Terrified that French ideas and radicalism would make their way to England, caricaturists sought to impress the English public that nothing but chaos, excess, and horror was to be found across the Channel. James Gillray drew the scathing caricature, The Zenith of French Glory (1793), to demonstrate to the English public the depravity of Revolutionary frenzy. Depicted here is another mass of common people, although portrayed in an ignoble setting and devoid of the fraternity witnessed by the embrace of the three estates in David's painting. Here, the common people triumph in a condition of perversity and near-anarchy (and near-nudity as Gillray plays off the literal interpretation of sans-culottes). The other two estates, as well as the symbols of justice, have been hanged while in the background a church is reduced to ashes. The powerfully outstretched arms symbolising the strong dedication of the men to their oath for equality and freedom are abandoned here for upthrust pikes and crudely-drawn hands clutching liberty bonnets. If there is a noble expression or virtuous intent in the crowd it is invisible as they cheer for the decapitation of their king. The virtues of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, which in France were upheld as victorious over a despotic monarchy, were reviled in England as sounding the "death knell for civilised society". It is readily apparent that the loss of the monarchy would mean nothing less than Armageddon for the people of England, which would presumably help to prevent any idealistic thoughts of reform.
In the early stages of the Revolution, artists had had to fight against the view that the fine arts had pandered to the autocracy of the old regime, or that the association between art and luxury would inevitably weaken the state. Artists like David had had to continually prove that art did indeed serve a purpose under the new Republic, and the idea of using art for the education of the masses gradually gained wide appeal (and government funding at a time where traditional patronage had all but disappeared). By 1793 artists were increasingly lending their support to the idea of art as a political weapon. Portrayals of revolutionary heroism and republican martyrs were popular subjects for the artist's brush, and were widely disseminated to the public, in the hopes of inspiring them to similar acts of selflessness and valour for their country. Charlotte Corday assassinated Jean-Paul Marat, a leader of the Jacobin faction, while taking his bath on July 13, 1793. What could have been a great victory for the Girondins, the Jacobin faction's opposition, was instead a Jacobin triumph, largely due to the propaganda of Jacques-Louis David. The funeral for the man hailed as a kind of modern Brutus, who had helped to kill the despotic king, was artfully arranged by David and the Jacobin Club. Marat's funeral was a simple and patriotic affair. He was buried at midnight under the tree where he had taught, attended silently and respectfully by a great crowd of people. The sombre pageantry was perfectly orchestrated to arouse the profound grief of the French people over the martyrdom of a great leader. It was not designed to excite mass fervour, as the earlier funeral ceremonies of republican heroes like Le Peletier and Lazowski had done. Marat's death was a huge opportunity to rally public support under the Jacobin banner, and David played a central part. His painting, The Death of Marat, presented to the Convention on November 14, 1793, displays the fallen hero with unprecedented directness and remains, as one historian has observed, "one of the world's most skilfully executed propaganda pictures". In this painting, David's neo-classical style blends with the historical account to produce a representation akin to a devotional image. Indeed, due in large part to David's skilful rendering of the fallen hero, the cult of Marat flourished after his death. David himself commented, "it is to you, my colleagues, that I offer the homage of my brush; your glances, running over the livid and blood-stained features of Marat, will recall to you his virtues, which must never cease to be your own". Unlike the earlier depiction of the Oath of the Tennis Court, this painting was designed to speak directly to viewers, to appeal to their sensibilities and encourage them to emulate the great man. The gradual development of David's work from the classical to the contemporary and quasi-religious attests to the importance of art in establishing a kind of revolutionary mythology. The Jacobins could root out and eliminate their opponents all the while shielded by the popular fervour inspired by the funeral, festival, and painting of the death of Marat.
The English, as can be expected, viewed the murder of Marat from a completely different perspective. Charlotte Corday, the murderess who was beheaded for her crime, was portrayed not as the killer of a revolutionary martyr but as a kind of female Brutus, bravely striking down a would-be tyrant. A contemporary English caricature, also by James Gillray, entitled The Heroic Charlotte la Corde, depicts Corday as a martyr in her own right, civilised and beautiful amid the degenerate Revolutionary Tribunal. This caricature is extremely interesting because it deliberately re-represents elements of Marat's funeral and even mockingly repeats the words of David himself. The body of Marat, which was carried on a wooden bed in the funeral procession, appears in the caricature as grotesquely positioned, emaciated, and blemished. The writing at the top of the picture maintains that Marat in fact suffered "leprosy, with which heaven had begun the punishment of his crimes". This representation is a far cry from the well-muscled, graceful, and serene Marat of David's painting. In the English caricature, the character of Corday maintains that after her death she will be accorded the "honours of the Pantheon", a deliberate reversal of David's own speech at Marat's funeral in which he voted the same honours for his fallen hero. Clearly, the English and French had vastly different agendas, the former emphasising Marat as "that monster of Atheism" and the latter deliberately establishing the great man as a type of religious icon whose death actually inspired the public's religious devotion. England, viewing France as a threat to its own national security and wary of their radical political ideals, would view Charlotte Corday as the protagonist against whom the darkest forces of social anarchy and regicide were aligned. David and the rest of the Jacobin faction, on the other hand, saw the glorification of Marat as essential to reinforcing the ideals of the Revolution and directing public angst towards the 'obvious' villainess and away from their own none-too-peaceful measures to counter the federalist insurrection of which Corday was merely the most visual member. The overthrow of Robespierre, the leader of the Jacobins and the head of the Committee of Public Safety in 1794 heralded the end of the Jacobin faction and the shelving of many of its elaborate artistic projects, which the Republic did not have the resources to construct. However, the popularity of David and his paintings was obviously strong enough to inspire English caricatures as late as 1817. David himself was not above creating caricatures of the English, one featuring George III being led by the nose by a turkey, and in command of an army of blockheads. However, whereas the English system remained stable and English caricatures were largely inspired by events occurring in France, French art had as its goal nothing less than the establishment of an entirely new iconography based upon Revolutionary ideals to replace those of royalty and the Church. The Jacobin program drew upon classical ideas, religious iconography, and absolutism to impose upon the people of France a type of early totalitarianism, fuelled by the media, to promote republican principles. The art of Jacques-Louis David demonstrates the development of Revolutionary ideals from the expression of classical virtues to the near-religious portrayal of Republican martyrs for the education of the viewing public. The artist himself noted that art conveys "the traits of heroism, of civic virtues offered to the regard of the people [that] will electrify its soul, and will cause to germinate in it all the passions of glory, of devotions to the welfare of the fatherland." |
|
|
|
Popular Art | Popular Music | New Media | Home| Project Team | Sources | Copyright | Funding | Feedback | Sitemap |