Whilst in Paris last week for
the Anatomical Model conference at the Academy of Medicine (which was wonderful, by the way) I made time to visit the Musée D'Orsay's spellbinding exhibition "The Angel of the Odd: Dark Romanticism from Goya to Max Ernst." I and
my companion spend a good three and a half hours marveling at the works--which ranged from romantic painting to Hitchcock film clips to spirit photography to decorative arts--and absorbing the text, which sought to trace a through-line from the Dante-inspired 18th century romantic paintings of Johann Henry Fuseli to today's horror films. Above are just a
very few of my favorite works seen in this wonderful, sprawling exhibition.
The exhibition terms this trope "dark romanticism"--drawn from art historian Mario Praz's 1903 publication
Flesh, Death and the Devil in Romantic Literature--and traces its development in three major sections. The first examines its genesis in the years from 1750-1850 in, paradoxically, "the age of reason," a response to the post-French revolution "Terror" and Napoleon's wars which, the text explains, "mark[ed] the end of the belief that reason alone could lead to enlightened humanity." Text and images demonstrate how the romantics used literary works--Gothic novels, of course, but also Goethe's and Milton's visions of hell and the darker interludes of Shakespeare--as the launching off point for artworks exploring the darkest and most taboo aspects of humanity: "cannibalism, Satanism, torture, incest, infantacide, and nightmares." The real standouts in this section were the works of Goya (4th down), Fuseli (2nd and 3rd down), some wonderful illustrations by Delecroix for Goethe's
Faust(8th down),
and the shockingly perverse and powerfully large-scale "Dante And Virgil In Hell" depicting an act of cannibalism described in Dante's
Inferno (top image) and painted by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, whom I had previously known as the artist behind exceedingly competent and somewhat sentimental academic paintings such as
this one. Another surprise in this section was
a Goya print from his "Les Caprices" series which, the text convincingly asserted, served as the inspiration for Karloff's iconic
Frankenstein.
The second part of the exhibition which examined the "dark romantic" revival of the 19th century was the real strength of the show for me, showcasing dozens of unforgettable works by the French Symbolists drawn from the Musée D'Orsay's magnificent permanent collection. We learn that the work was a response to a time of upheaval, when faith in scientific positivism and democracy were weakening, and artists and intellectuals were growing increasingly frustrated with the hypocrisy of bourgeois propriety. It was also a time of "obsessive fears" about prostitution, venereal disease, and evolutionary degeneration, where a post-Darwinian nature was viewed not as gentle mother but, instead, "a devouring force relentlessly destroying personal happiness to ensure the survival of the species." No wonder, then, that this section is rife with images of Medusa, Salome, The Sphinx, "The Idol of Perversity" and other erotic and terrifying
femme fatales. This section also boasted some surprising images by Gauguin (12 down), a number of oddly contemporary and revelatory fetishy cyanotypes by Charles-François Jeandel (13 down), and a the fantastic sculpture "Eternelle douleur (Eternal Pain)" by Paul Dardé, a wonderful, dynamic depiction of the lifeless head of Medusa aloft on a nest of writhing snakes (bottom image, but does not capture the power of the original).
The third part of the exhibition focused on "Surrrealism's Redescovery," and traced this early 20th century movement's ebrace of the dark non-rational after the absurd horrors of WWI. Although thematically fitting, aesthetically there were few things of great interest to me, personally, in this section. The only things of note here were some works by Dali and a series of photographs of Hans Bellmer's wonderfully perverse dolls (16 down).
Throughout the exhibition, there were also a good many film clips meant to be playing in small theatres; sadly, many were out of order on the day we were there, but on a good day, one would find clips from
Dracula, Frankenstein, Nosferatu (17 down), Hitchcock's
Rebecca,
Un Chien Andalou,
Häxan, and much more.
The official introductory text for the exhibition follows; you can read the complete wall tex by clicking
here; you can learn more about the exhibition by clicking
here. Full captions for all images follow as well.
You can order a copy of the exhibition catalog (in French but so, so worth it!) by clicking
here. Special thanks to
Pam Grossman for letting me know about this wonderful exhibition, and to
"professor of art" Michael Daks for lingering with me there for 3+ hours.