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This man was such a shrewd critical observer
of his time that it seems surely he must have been viewing nineteenth century
Paris from the vantage point of a later century. Surely he must have had
the wisdom afforded by looking back in retrospect? How else could he outline
so succinctly with pen and paint the events surrounding the birth of the
French Republic, the horror of a family massacre in rue Transnonain (1834)
or the pathos of a Saltimbanque's struggle to live? But no, it seems Honoré
Daumier (1808-1879) was so gifted with powers of acute observation and
beyond that, acute insight into the human condition that rather than wallow
in the polite neo-classicism of his contemporaries (Ingres) he dived into
the thick muddy river of humanity and recorded it. That he was a deeply
sensitive soul passionately moved by injustice and the shocking state many
of his countrymen lived in added a layer of profound emotion to all his
works.
His depiction of a crowded third class rail carriage has the gloomy passengers turning to observe this gentleman artist in their presence. The hooded ancient eyes of the old woman stare blindly at the invisible figure of Daumier. Devoid of curiosity or vanity she sits next to a younger woman who unashamedly continues to feed her infant from a naked breast. This moving study sketched c. 1862-1864 shows us Daumier's working method as an artist-journalist. He does not peer in the window of the carriage and sketch his romanticized ideas of what the lower classes look like back in a fancy studio, he enters the grim carriage and travels with them. How many washerwomen did he see climbing up the steps of the river Seine before painting his tender study of La Blanchisseuse (1860-61) and her small daughter, already being trained in the hard labour of her mother. He created the definitive 'capitalist pig' in his series of portraits of the magistrate from Toulouse, Baron Joseph de Podenas. Daumier's terra cotta bust caricature of the Baron called 'Mr. Pot de Naz' looks like a puppet from the British 1980's television satire "Spitting Image" a programme that also poked fun at politicians and royalty with uncanny verisimilitude. Such a long intense career recording his fellow man led Daumier to be a sympathetic interpreter of other beleaguered historic and fictional figures. Drawing on his experience of ugly rebellious crowd scenes in Paris he was able to create one of the finest Ecce Homo compositions in the history of art. A jeering brutish crowd clamber up the podium where the figure of a fragile but noble Christ stands bound to two naked thieves joined by a neck yoke. A sub-human malevolent figure that resembles the gargoyles of Notre Dame leans over to address the crowd and point an accusing finger at Christ.
Particularly poignant is the central focus on a father holding up his young
son to see the figure of scorn. Rarely has the depiction of Christ's torment
been so realistically evoked. Daumier must have been reminded of this biblical
scene when he pushed his way through the barricades and witnessed rough
justice in the streets of Paris.
Another victim of mockery that he adopted
into his oeuvre late in life is the fictional figure of Don Quixote. In
contrast to the previous representations of Cervantes' hero by French
artists Coypel, Natoire, Fragonard, Nanteuil and Gustave Dore - Daumier's
sad befuddled Spanish knight is still a champion who straddles his emaciated
nag with the utmost dignity. He so identified in some curious way with
the knight that he placed him in scenes not found in Cervantes' novel such
as two works c. 1870 showing Don Quixote relaxing in a study absorbed in
his books. This is due as much to its success as a
balanced composition and its beautiful palette of bright colours,
as to the familiarity of its subject.
Raichel Le Goff for ARTnewsroom.com.
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