When asked to name some Spanish artists, the majority will answer Pablo Picasso and Salvador Dalí before thinking of Francisco Goya. Goya is a name recognised by many, but the same cannot be said about his long life. Considered the most important Spanish artist of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Goya bridges the gap between the Old Masters and modern art. During his career, Goya worked for the Spanish court before turning to darker, delusional themes that suggest he struggled with his mental health.
Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes was born on 30th March 1746, in Fuendetodos, Aragón, Spain, to lower-middle-class parents. Around his third birthday, the family moved to the city of Zaragoza, where his father oversaw the gilding and ornamentation of the Santa Maria del Pilar (Basilica of Our Lady of the Pillar). At 14, Goya studied under the painter José Luzán (1710-85) before moving to Madrid at 18 to study with Anton Raphael Mengs (1728-77).
Twice, Goya applied to study at the Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando, but after the second failed attempt, he decided to try his luck in Rome, Italy. A gap of at least a decade is missing from Goya’s biography after he moved to Rome, leaving historians to speculate about his movements. Early biographers suggest Goya either worked for a Russian diplomat or earned money as a street acrobat.
Records reveal Goya earned second place in a painting competition held in Parma in 1771, then returned to Zaragoza to paint frescoes in the Basilica of the Pillar and the Charterhouse of Aula Dei. Around this time, Goya began studying with Francisco Bayeu y Subías (1734-95), through whom he met and married Bayeu’s sister, Josefa (1747-1812), in July 1773. Their first child, Antonio Juan Ramon Carlos, was born thirteen months later.
Bayeu helped Goya earn a commission for a series of tapestry cartoons for the Royal Tapestry Factory in 1777. The project lasted five years, during which time Goya designed 42 patterns, which later hung in the residences of the Spanish monarchy. Unfortunately, the work put a strain on Goya’s physical health, and he frequently succumbed to illnesses. With some tapestry cartoons measuring eight by ten feet, the task became too difficult for Goya. He also felt it restricted his artistic development because tapestries could not capture the same tones and textures as paintings.
Goya’s fortunes changed in 1783 when Count José Moñino of Floridablanca (1728-1808) commissioned Goya to paint his portrait. Moñino was a favourite of King Charles III (1716-88) and his half-brother Luis (1727-85), whom Goya briefly befriended. In 1786, the king offered Goya a salaried position as his personal painter, which transferred to King Charles IV (1748-1819) in 1789.
As First Court Painter, Goya earned 50,000 reales a year, with an allowance of 500 ducats for transport. Among his work for the king is the life-size group portrait of Charles IV of Spain and His Family (1800-1801), which features 14 figures, including Goya. Critics liken this painting to Diego Velázquez’s Las Meninas (1656), in which the artist includes himself looking at the viewer from behind a canvas. Unlike Velázquez‘s informal group portrait with figures conducting various tasks, Goya shows the royal family’s importance through stiff poses. Rather than only painting Charles IV, his wife and his children, the king wished to include other family members, such as his brother, his sister, his future daughter-in-law, his son-in-law and his first grandchild, Carlos Luis (1799-1883).
Goya’s connection with the king earned him many prestigious commissions amongst the highest ranks of Spanish nobility. Patrons included the Duke of Osuna, the Duke of Alba and Prime Minister Manuel Godoy (1767-1851). It is widely believed the latter commissioned Goya to paint La maja desnuda, the first life-size female nude in Western art without allegorical or mythological meaning. Goya also painted a clothed version called La maja vestida, in which the unidentified model reclines in the same pose. Suggestions for the model’s identity range from María Cayetana de Silva, 13th Duchess of Alba (1762-1802), to Pepita Tudó, Godoy’s mistress. Unable to pinpoint who the lady is, many critics believe she is a product of Goya’s imagination.
In the early 1790s, Goya suffered from a mysterious illness, leaving him deaf. The condition affected Goya’s mental health, which is evident in his paintings. Goya began depicting nightmarish elements in his work, such as Yard with Lunatics, which shows “a yard with lunatics, and two of them fighting completely naked while their warder beats them, and others in sacks.” Goya claimed it was a scene he witnessed at Zaragoza, yet his choice to paint it while recovering from an illness says a lot about his state of mind.
Art critics suggest Yard with Lunatics reflects Goya’s fear that he was going mad. Many historians believe Goya suffered from viral encephalitis (inflammation of the brain), which causes tinnitus, deafness and delusional thoughts, among other more serious symptoms. Others suggest Ménière’s disease, which affects the inner ear. Lead poisoning is another theory because Goya used large amounts of lead white paint. It is impossible to determine a definite diagnosis, but the illness marked a turning point in Goya’s career as an artist.
In 1808, the French invaded Spain, leading to the Peninsular War, which lasted until 1814. Joseph Bonaparte (1768-1844), the older brother of Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821), usurped the Spanish throne, leaving Goya in a precarious position as First Court Painter. Goya claims he kept neutral during the war but continued to produce paintings for French patrons. After the restoration of the Spanish King Ferdinand VII (1784-1833) in 1814, Goya continued working in the royal courts but never painted anything at the request of the king. Any portraits produced of Ferdinand were commissioned by other members of the court.
Goya witnessed several events during the Peninsular War, which may have contributed to his health woes. He also lost his wife in 1812, and only one of their seven children lived past infancy. In 1814, Goya painted two war scenes titled The Second of May 1808 and The Third of May 1808, which art historians believe he did not witness in person but heard about in stories. The first painting, also known as The Charge of the Mamelukes, depicts an uprising of Spanish people against the Mamelukes of the French Imperial Guard. The French received instructions to charge and subdue the rioters, but instead, the revolt became a chaotic, ferocious melee.
The Third of May 1808 is set a few hours after the riot. Hundreds of Spaniards involved in the uprising were rounded up and shot in various locations around Madrid. Unlike The Second of May 1808, in which Goya attempted to depict the Spanish as heroic, the second painting has no motive other than to record the executions. Art historian Kenneth Clark (1903-83) described it as “the first great picture which can be called revolutionary in every sense of the word, in style, in subject, and in intention.” The position of the man standing with his arms raised later inspired Gerald Holtom’s (1914-85) international peace symbol: “I drew myself: the representative of an individual in despair, with hands palm outstretched outwards and downwards in the manner of Goya’s peasant before the firing squad. I formalised the drawing into a line and put a circle round it.”
From 1819 onwards, Goya began to retreat from public life. Whilst he continued completing some royal commissions, much of his work he produced privately. He moved to a small cottage outside the city, which people referred to as La Quinta del Sordo (The House of the Deaf Man). Fearing old age and madness, Goya’s paintings became even darker. Fourteen artworks produced between 1819 and 1823 are collectively known as the Black Paintings because they demonstrate Goya’s bleak outlook on humanity. Goya poured his fears and the panic, terror, and hysteria he experienced during the war into these artworks, which include Saturn Devouring His Son, Judith and Holofernes, and Witches’ Sabbath.
Goya’s Black Paintings were never exhibited in his lifetime, and he likely never intended to show anyone these works. The disturbing themes indicate Goya was not of sound mind during his final years, but so does how he produced the paintings. Rather than using canvases or wooden boards, Goya painted directly onto the walls of his cottage. Fred Licht (1928-2019), in his book Goya: The Origins of the Modern Temper in Art, wrote, “these paintings are as close to being hermetically private as any that have ever been produced in the history of Western art.” Following Goya’s death, the walls were carefully demolished to preserve the murals, which now reside in the Museo del Prado in Madrid.
Despite his hermit-like ways, Goya had a live-in maid called Leocadia Weiss (1788-1856), a widow with a young daughter, Rosario, who also lived at the cottage. Weiss met Goya at the wedding of his son Javier, which suggests she may have been related to the bride’s family. Weiss left her unhappy marriage to Isidore Weiss, a Jewish jeweller, in 1811, leaving many wondering about the identity of Rosario’s father, who was born three years later. Some suspect Goya, who is listed as Rosario’s godfather, but there is no evidence Goya and Weiss were ever romantically attached.
Although Goya struggled with his health, he taught Rosario how to draw. She studied with him until 1823 when she started receiving lessons from the architect Tiburcio Pérez. Goya spent the final year of his life paralyzed on his right side following a stroke, eventually passing away on 16th April 1828. He left nothing in his will to Weiss or her daughter, and both women contested the will, suggesting a closer relationship than maid and pupil, but Goya’s son denied them anything. Weiss spent the remainder of her life in poverty, as did her ex-husband. Rosario continued to develop her artistic career but passed away at age 28 from cholera.
Following his death, Goya was buried at a local church. Later, the Spanish consul reinterred his body in the Real Ermita de San Antonio de la Florida (Royal Chapel of St. Anthony of La Florida) in Madrid. On digging up Goya’s body, they discovered the skull was missing. The whereabouts of Goya’s skull remain a mystery.
Goya’s 82 years of life have been immortalised in contemporary films, such as Goya’s Ghosts (2006), starring Stellan Skarsgård (b.1951) as Goya and Natalie Portman (b. 1981) as the artist’s model. Goya has influenced many artists since his death, including Pablo Picasso (1881-1973) and Salvador Dalí (1904-89), who admired his Black Paintings.
Everyone is familiar with the modern deck of playing cards. Most households own at least one pack and they have become a part of traditional cultures and customs. Yet, these decks of cards have been completely transformed since their origins several centuries ago. What we now take for granted has taken hundreds of years to reach its current format: four suits, red and black, court cards etc. Looking back through history, it is fascinating to see how our standard hearts, spades, clubs and diamond suits developed and why playing cards have remained a conventional pastime.
Ming Dynasty Playing Card
The origins of playing cards are widely contested, however, it is generally accepted they were invented in China during the Tang Dynasty (AD 618-907). The earliest evidence of playing cards in Europe dates to around the late 14th century, however, a 9th-century text, Collection of Miscellanea at Duyang, describes the daughter of Emperor Yizong of Tang (833-873) playing Yezi Gexi, a “leaf” game. These “leaves” are believed to be card-like pieces of paper featuring special designs or symbols. Rather than suits or numbers, the pictures revealed instructions or a forfeit to the players.
The rules of this “leaf” game are unknown, as are the visual appearance of the cards. It was not until 1294 that they were actually described in written documents. A legal document records that Yan Sengzhu and Zheng Pig-Dog were caught playing cards that had been printed with woodblocks, and 36 taels (an old monetary unit), which suggests they may have been gambling illegally. Later, during the Ming Dynasty, a scholar called Lu Rong (1436-94) reports he was mocked at college for not knowing how to play cards.
British Sinologist and playing card enthusiast, William Henry Wilkinson (1858-1930), whose collection of Chinese cards can be found in the British Museum, undertook a comprehensive study of the history of playing cards in China. His results can be read in several books including Chinese Origin of Playing Cards (1895) and The Game of Khanhoo (1891). The latter explains the rules of a game developed during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644).
Money-suited cards, 1905
Khanhoo, which roughly translates as “Watching the Tiger”, was a trick-taking game using “money-suited cards”. This set of cards was made up of three suits known as coins, strings and myriads. The aim of the game was for the players to get rid of all their cards by melding them into certain sequences. The common meldings were known as “gibbons” (a sequence of three cards from one suit) and “Leopards” (three cards of the same number). Alternatively, players could hold onto their cards to create a special melding, for instance, a “Pangolin” (7 coins, 3 strings, 3 myriads) or “Tiger” (9 coins, 1 string, 1 myriad). Each melding was worth a certain amount of points and the player with the highest score at the end of the game was the winner.
Mahjong Cards
Domino Cards
Money-suited cards were only one form of playing cards to develop from the “leaf” game in China. Another type was Mahjong cards with which similar games to the tiled version of Mahjong could be played. The cards contained Chinese characters or suits representing circles, bamboos, characters, dragons, winds, flowers and seasons. Often an illustration was included with the Chinese characters to emphasise their meaning, however, others featured characters from popular stories, such as TheStory of the Water Margin. This is not dissimilar from the novelty packs of cards sold in the western world today. Another type of playing card was the Domino card with pips (dots) representing numbers. These cards could also be embellished with cultural illustrations.
When the Chinese travelled abroad, they often took playing cards with them, either as a form of entertainment or something with which to trade. As a result, playing cards were introduced to people from other countries who began to print their own versions. In Persia, for example, a 48-pack of cards was developed, containing four suits made up of ten pip (number) cards and two court cards (king and vizier).
Mamluk playing cards
By the 12th century, playing cards had been introduced to most countries in Asia and had just worked their way into Africa, in particular Egypt. In fact, the oldest surviving playing cards were produced in Egypt. The majority of surviving cards from Africa, however, were made during the 15th century.
Initially, Egypt copied the Asian style of playing cards but, during the Mamluk Sultanate period (1250-1517), they began to develop their own designs and games. Known as Mamluk cards, they contained colourful abstract designs and calligraphy, however, unlike Chinese playing cards, they never visually represented people. This is because Sunni Islam, which was the prevalent religion in Egypt, advocated Aniconism: the avoidance of images of sentient beings.
There were typically 52 cards in a Mamluk pack, ten pip cards and three court cards. Although the court cards could not visually depict a person, they could bear the names of ranks: king, viceroy and seconder. It is not certain what games were played with these cards, however, they were probably based on Chinese and Asian rules.
Knave of Coins from the oldest known European deck (c. 1390–1410).
Playing cards reached Europe around the 14th century and were first described in writing by Johannes of Rheinfelden, a German Dominican friar also known as John of Basle (b.1340). Playing cards had evidently been in Europe long before he wrote his treatise in 1377, which was a response to the decision in Florence to ban card games. Johannes began by describing the cards then went on to say he believed they could be used as a means of understanding the world, in particular how social standings worked in court and how this could be applied to social orders throughout the rest of humanity. Despite his writings, bans continued to be enforced across Europe and playing cards were denounced in churches as forms of gambling.
Nonetheless, playing cards continued to be designed and printed. The first European versions are believed to have been created in Italy, which were divided into four suits: swords, clubs, cups, and coins; these are still used in Italy and Spain today. In Italy, court cards within these “Latin suits” were a king, queen and knave/servant, although the latter may have been a prince. In Spain, on the other hand, the court cards became a king, knight and knave. Whereas the Italian version had ten pip cards, the Spanish only had nine and, in some games, they only used numbers one to seven.
Italian Cards
When playing cards were first produced in Italy, they were only intended for the upper classes. Each card was hand-painted, making them an expensive, luxury item. As their popularity grew, however, card makers sought methods of producing them quickly and cheaply. As a result, playing cards began to spread across the rest of Europe.
Between 1418-1450, professional card makers set up woodcut factories in the Germany cities of Ulm, Nuremberg and Augsburg. Although the woodcut process printed the designs onto the cards, the colours were added later by hand, therefore, these 15th-century cards were mostly handpainted. To establish themselves as card manufacturers of Germany, the designers changed the Latin suits to reflect the rural lifestyle of the country. These new suits were acorns, leaves, hearts, and bells. The court cards were changed to a king and two knaves: Obermann and Untermann. The pip cards, however, only numbered two to nine as they did away with the ace.
German Cards
Although the new suits became the norm in Germany, some factories produced novelty version to appeal to people of particular professions and interests, for instance, animals and kitchen appliances. In Switzerland, they adopted the Germanic suits but tended to use flowers rather than leaves and a shield rather than hearts.
Germany was one of the key countries involved with developing printing techniques, which helped them to produce larger quantities of playing cards. Soon, they became more famed for the playing card trade than Italy. Subsequently, German suits became more dominant throughout Europe than the Latin versions.
In France, the Germanic suits were altered to clovers, hearts, pikes and tiles, which led to the development of the modern suits – clovers being clubs, pikes being spades and tiles being diamonds. Not only this, but the French also simplified the designs to make them quicker to print and divided the four suits into two colours: black and red. They also simplified the images on the court cards, reintroducing the queen and the ace to the pack. This meant stencils could be produced and used multiple times in printing presses, such as the Guttenburg press that was developed in 1440.
French Cards
French playing cards quickly surpassed Germany in popularity and spread across Europe, thus familiarising the continent with a design similar to the cards used today. In the 16th century, the French also drew attention to the court cards by naming them after people from the Bible and popular works of literature. The kings became known as King David (Spades), Alexander the Great (Clubs), Charlemagne (Hearts), and Julius Caesar (Diamonds), consequently representing the four major empires up to that date: Jews, Greeks, Franks, and Romans. The queens were designated Greek goddess Pallas Athena (Spades), Judith (Hearts), Jacob’s wife Rachel (Diamonds), and Argine (Clubs). It is not certain who the latter is but Argine may be the French name for Argea, wife of Polybus and mother of Argus.
The knaves were assigned the names of La Hire (Hearts), Charlemagne’s knight Ogier (Spades), Hector the hero of Troy (Diamonds), and King Arthur’s knight Lancelot (Clubs). Hector and Lancelot are the more famous of the set, whereas, La Hire and Ogier were only celebrated in France. La Hire was the nickname of Étienne de Vignolles (1390-1443), a French commander during the Hundred Years’ War. Ogier the Dane was a legendary knight of Charlemagne (748-814) who featured in many medieval French stories.
France was made up of nine regions and the appearance of the kings, queens and knaves differed slightly from place to place. It was not until playing cards became popular in Britain that a common design was developed.
It is not certain when playing cards arrived in Britain but it is likely they came via Belgium, where many French people had fled to avoid heavy taxes. Without having been influenced by Latin or Germanic playing cards, the English were happy to use the French designs, although they renamed the suits clubs, hearts, spades and diamonds.
The biggest difference between French and British cards was the Ace of Spaces. This card tends to have some form of design, signature or marking to make it appear more important than the other aces. There was, however, no difference in value. This tradition began sometime after 1588 when the English government placed a tax on playing cards. To indicate they had been taxed, the manufacturers were required to sign or stamp the Ace of Spades, which was usually the top card in a brand new pack.
To avoid paying tax, some people began to forge signatures, which led the government to enforce more drastic measures. From 1828, the Ace of Spades had to be purchased from the Commissioners for Stamp Duties. The card had to be stamped with the manufacturer’s name and the amount they had paid. Initially, manufacturers had no say in the appearance of the Ace of Spades, however, after 1862 they were allowed to design their own ace to complement their signature. Although this tax law no longer applies, playing card manufacturers have stuck to tradition, giving the Ace of Spaces more attention than the other cards.
De La Rue, 1832
De La Rue, 1832
De La Rue, 1840-65
The court cards, which feature detailed illustrations of bearded kings, flower-holding queens and clean-shaven knaves, began to become less elaborate as manufacturers sought to find a way to produce playing cards quickly and cheaply. Thomas de la Rue (1793-1866), a printer from Guernsey, was the first to drastically reduce the prices of playing cards and increase productivity.
Thomas de la Rue moved to London in 1818 to set up a shop, initially for straw hat-making, but soon expanded to include bookbinding and paper manufacturing. By 1828, De la Rue had become interested in playing cards and used all his skills, including letter-press printing, to modernise the designs. In 1831, De la Rue was granted a patent for his improvement and has since been regarded as the inventor of the modern English playing card.
The early version of De la Rue’s court cards, which were produced using the letterpress, were still highly detailed full-length figures, however, he had used a limited palette of red, yellow, blue and black. A second attempt at modernisation resulted in a flatter, two-dimensional design and, in the 1840s, he combined both styles together to produce an intricate design, opting to use blue ink for the outlines rather than black.
“The whole of Messrs De la Rue’s establishment is carried out in a manner perfectly unique. Steam power wherever practicable is applied to the various departments of the business.” (Bradshaw’s, 1842) De la Rue’s modern designs were made possible by developments in technology. Not only was hand-painting the cards time-consuming, but the ink also took a long time to dry. So, De la Rue found a quicker drying ink and glazed the cards to prevent them from losing their pigment. Wherever he could, he replaced jobs that were originally done by hand with steam-powered machines, which sped up the manufacturing process.
Card Backs designed by Owen Jones
In 1844, De la Rue hired Owen Jones (1809-74), a Welsh graphic designer who had trained at the Royal Academy Schools. Jones’s task was to produce designs for the backs of playing cards and, in the two decades he spent with the company, it is estimated he made 173 different designs. Jones was influenced by foreign cultures and many of his designs were similar to Moorish, Chinese and other art styles from antiquity. Fruit and flowers were a typical feature in the designs.
Owen Jones’s playing cards were much sought by the upper classes, including the Royal Family. Unfortunately, they were also quite expensive. Nonetheless, sales continued to do well and Jones received a lot of praise for his work, including from the Victorian author, Charles Dickens (1812-70). It is also said the Arts and Crafts artist, William Morris (1834-96), was influenced by Jones’s work.
De la Rue, 1860
De la Rue, 1885
Around the 1860s, double-ended court cards were designed so that they would always be the right way up. Previously, serious card players could work out if their opponent had a court card by watching to see if they turned a card around when adding it to their hand. The court cards now had two heads and joined together in the middle where their legs once began.
Another alteration was the inclusion of indices (a number or letter indicating the value of the card), in the top corner of the card. This allowed players to easily see which cards they had by fanning them out in one hand. The corners of the cards, which were originally sharp, were rounded off to limit wear and tear. A ripped corner could make it harder for players to tell what cards they had in their hand or even reveal the value to their opponents. The design on the back of the cards was another way of preventing other players from seeing what cards their opponents had; wear and tear caused cards to thin, revealing the design through the paper.
Playing cards eventually reached the Americas through European exports and quickly became a commercial success. Lewis I. Cohen (1800-68), who had spent some time in England between 1814 and 1819, returned to America with fresh insight into technological developments. As a result, he became the first American to introduce lead pencils and steel pens, which replaced the out-dated quill pens. He also became a manufacturer of playing card printing, developing a colour-printing machine that was able to print more than one colour at a time, thus speeding up production.
Imperial Bower, the earliest Joker, by Samuel Hart, c. 1863.
An Italian Joker
When playing cards became popular in the USA, they were already in the final stages of the design that would become commonplace across the world. It was in the USA, however, that one final card was added to the pack: the Joker. Samuel Hart (1846-1871), a playing card manufacturer from Philadelphia, is credited with the invention of the Joker, which was initially called “Best Bower” or “Imperial Bower”. The name came from the German word Bauer, which is what they called the Jack in Germany. (Knaves had become known as Jacks to make it easier to differentiate them from the Kings.) Jacks were often used as the highest trump cards in many games, including a trick-taking game called Euchre. Hart’s idea was to make an even higher trump card.
Around the late 1860s, the Imperial Bower was renamed the Joker, which is believed to have come from Juckerspiel, the German name for the game of Euchre. In Britain, the USA was still one of its biggest exports, so card manufacturing company Chas Goodall and Son began adding jokers to the packs produced for the American market. Eventually, the idea caught on in Britain and the first Joker for the British market was sold in 1874. The Joker also spread to mainland Europe where, in Italy, it became known as the “Jolly”.
Unlike the rest of the playing cards, a uniform design was never developed for the Joker, therefore, companies could be as creative as they wished. For some manufacturers, the Joker became their trademark, however, they are usually depicted as jesters. It is common nowadays to have two jokers in a pack, often one coloured and one black and white. This was so there could be a trump card for the red suits (hearts and diamonds) and the black suits (clubs and spades). Usually, the two Jokers are different in appearance as well as colour to differentiate between them. The United States Playing Card Company (USPCC), established in 1867, prints their guarantee on one of the joker cards as a way of telling them apart.
The Joker has been introduced to many card games as the trump card, although, in Britain, older rules tend to be followed and the Joker discarded. For instance, in Britain, it is more common to play Old Maid rather than Chase the Joker.
Kings
Queens
Jacks
Over time, nicknames have been invented for certain cards. The court cards (King, Queen and Jack) are also known as face cards but some of these cards have earnt other names due to their visual appearance. The King of Hearts and King of Diamonds, for instance, are sometimes known as the Suicide Kings. This is because the King of Hearts holds a sword to the back of his head as though stabbing himself. The King of Diamonds does a similar action with an axe.
The Jack of Hearts, the Jack of Spades and the King of Diamonds have been referred to as the One-Eyed Royals because they are traditionally drawn in profile rather than face on. The rest of the court cards are drawn in such a way that both eyes can be seen. The Jack of Diamonds is sometimes known as the Laughing Boy but this may be due to previous illustrations rather than the traditional British design.
The Queen of Spades, often known as “the black lady” or “black Maria”, is the undesirable card in the game of Old Maid. She is shown holding a sceptre, which has led to the nickname “the bedpost Queen”. The Queen of Clubs was, at one point, the only Queen holding a flower, therefore, she became known as the “Flower Queen”. Today, however, all four Queens are usually depicted holding flowers.
The Ace of Spades, with its unique design, is often designated the trump card in certain games. As a result, it has earned the nickname “the death card”. Most of the pip cards are known by the numbers, however, on occasion, the twos have been referred to as “deuces” and the threes as “treys”. The Nine of Diamonds, on the other hand, has become known as “the Curse of Scotland” but no one agrees on the reason why. One suggestion was every ninth king of Scotland was “a tyrant and a curse to that country”, and another suggestion was nine diamonds were stolen from the crown jewels during the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots (1542-87), which resulted in the whole country being taxed to recoup the costs.
New theories, names and meanings of playing cards have continued to be invented over the years. At one time, the four suits were said to represent the four major pillars of the economy in the Middle Ages: Church (Hearts), military (Spades), agriculture (Clubs), and merchants (Diamonds). Since then, the suits have also been assigned the four seasons, the four solstices and the four natural elements: water (Hearts), fire (Clubs), earth (Diamonds), and air (Spades).
There are 52 cards in a traditional pack of cards (discounting the jokers), which is the same number of weeks in a year. There are 13 cards in each suit and 13 weeks in each season and there are 12 Royals and 12 months of the year.
The history of playing cards is long and varied and will likely endure forever. Over time, novelty versions of the cards have been produced, such as those featuring images from popular literature, to appeal to new generations. Playing cards have also been redesigned for coronations and special events and sold as limited editions.
Despite cultural differences, playing cards are something most countries have in common. Across Europe and America in particular, language barriers can be overcome through the playing of a well-known game. Even with the development of digital technology, playing cards are not at risk of being forgotten. Digital versions of solitaire are proving to be popular amongst all generations and casinos across the world continue to make lots of money from a simple pack of cards.
It is impossible to determine how many card games have been invented or how many styles of playing cards have been produced, but what we do know is they have all derived from games played in China during the 9th century. Who knew something so simple as a few strips of paper could grow to affect the whole world?
Quixotism is a term to describe the impractical ideas or an extravagant chivalrous action made by an impulsive person. The term comes from the word Quixote, which was invented by the Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes for the titular hero of his 1605 novel Don Quixote. By the mid 17th century, the term was being widely used to describe someone who could not distinguish between reality and imagination, just like Cervantes’ famous character.
Don Quixoteis considered by most to be the world’s first modern novel and Miguel de Cervantes is still regarded as the greatest Spanish writer. Searching through online exhibitions from Spanish museums via Google Arts & Culture, Cervantes crops up again and again, suggesting he is respected as a national hero. Yet, his life remains a bit of an enigma. It is generally believed he spent the majority of his life in poverty, however, there are some disputed claims in his biographies that sound rather quixotic…
By Attributed to Juan Martínez de Jáuregui y Aguilar
Portrait of an Unknown Gentleman – El Greco (1603-07)
It is not certain what Cervantes looked like, or even if that was his name. A portrait, attributed to Juan Martínez de Jáuregui y Aguilar (1583-1641), is said to be of the author, however, the signature and title were added to the painting centuries later. El Greco’s (1541-1614) Portrait of an Unknown Gentleman is rumoured to be a painting of Cervantes, however, there is no tangible evidence.
As for his name, he often signed his name Cerbantes, although his publishers always used Cervantes. He also had around eleven different signatures and, later in life, began to use the name Saavedra, which may have been the name of a distant relative or the Spanish version of an Arabic nickname he was given, meaning “one-hand”.
Miguel de Cervantes was born around 29th September 1547 in Alcalá de Henares, a Spanish city 22 miles from Madrid. His father, Rodrigo de Cervantes, was a barber-surgeon (someone who could use the same blade to shave your head or chop off your leg) from Córdoba, Andalusia. Although Cervantes’ paternal grandfather, Juan de Cervantes, was a successful lawyer, Rodrigo was frequently in debt and struggled to find work.
Cervantes’ mother was Leonor de Cortinas (c. 1520–1593) who came from Arganda del Rey but moved to Córdoba after marrying Rodrigo. Records suggest she was a resourceful woman, capable of looking after her children while Rodrigo was frequently in debtor’s prison. Records also reveal Leonor was able to read and write, therefore, she may have been responsible for educating her seven children when they were young: Andrés (b. 1543), Andrea (b. 1544), Luisa (b. 1546), Miguel (b. 1547), Rodrigo (b. 1550), Magdalena (b. 1554) and Juan (b.1556c).
By 1564, the family were living in Seville where Rodrigo had secured rented accommodation from his brother Andres. Although there is no written record, Cervantes and his siblings likely attended the local Jesuit college, however, in 1566, the family were forced to move to Madrid because Rodrigo was, once again, in debt.
Bust of Cervantes erected in 1905, Burgos, Spain
Statue of Miguel de Cervantes at the harbour of Naupactus (Lepanto), Greece
An arrest warrant dated 15th September 1569 reveals Miguel de Cervantes was charged with wounding a man named Antonio de Sigura in a duel. Who this man was is unknown, however, the incident is likely the reason Cervantes soon left Madrid and travelled abroad to Rome.
In Rome, Cervantes found a position in the home of an Italian bishop, Giulio Acquaviva of Aragon (1546-74), who had just been made Cardinal-Deacon of San Teodoro by Pope Pius V (1504-72) on 17th May 1570. What Cervantes did during this time is, of course, unknown, however, he cannot have been there that long before the Ottoman–Venetian War began (1570-73).
The Marquess of Santa Cruz
The Ottoman–Venetian War, also known as the War of Cyprus, was waged between the Ottoman Empire and the Republic of Venice, the latter of whom was supported by Spain and several Italian states. When the war began, Cervantes, perhaps hoping it would redeem him from his earlier arrest, travelled to Naples to enlist. Don Álvaro de Sande (1489-1573), a Spanish military leader and friend of the family, found Cervantes a position under the Spanish admiral Álvaro de Bazán, 1st Marquess of Santa Cruz (1526-88).
Cervantes’ brother, Rodrigo, also enlisted in Naples and in September 1571, the siblings sailed on the Marquesa, which was one of the ships in the fleet of Don John of Austria (1547-78), the illegitimate son of Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (1500-58) and half-brother of King Philip II of Spain (1527-98). Cervantes’ written account of life aboard the Marquesa reveals he was put in charge of a 12-man skiff who were forced to fight despite suffering from malaria.
The Battle of Lepanto by Juan Luna (1887)
On 7th October 1571, the fleet defeated the Ottoman Empire at the Battle of Lepanto, however, the Marquesa suffered many fatalities. A total of 40 men were killed and a further 120 wounded, including Cervantes who received two blows in the chest and one in his left arm, which rendered it useless.
Cervantes wrote a poetic account of his experiences in battle, which was published in 1614 under the Spanish title Viaje del Parnaso (Journey to Parnassus). He declared he had “lost the movement of the left hand for the glory of the right”, but needed to spend six months in hospital in Messina, Sicily, to recover from the chest wounds.
In July 1572, Cervantes returned to service, however, records reveal it was still several months before his chest wounds had fully healed. During this time, Cervantes was mostly stationed in Naples, however, he took part in expeditions to Corfu and Navarino in Greece. The following year, he took part in the occupation of Tunis and La Goulette in Tunisia, which was, unfortunately, recaptured by the Ottoman Empire in 1574, thus giving them overall victory. Despite Spain’s loss, Cervantes was given letters of commendation from the Duke of Sessa, Gonzalo II Fernández de Córdoba (1520-78).
In September 1575, Cervantes and Rodrigo boarded the galley Sol to make their homeward journey to Barcelona. Unfortunately, the galley never got there. As they approached the city, the slender ship was attacked and captured by Ottoman corsairs, also known as Barbary Pirates, who took everyone on board to Algiers as their prisoners. The pirates sold many of their captives as slaves and kept the rest as hostages. Cervantes and his brother fell into the latter category and a ransom letter was sent home to their family.
Kılıç Ali Paşa (1837)
The brothers’ family could not afford to pay the ransom for them both, so only Rodrigo was able to return home. Forced to stay, Cervantes may have been used as a slave, however, there is no proper evidence of what his life was like at this time. One suggestion is Cervantes was one of the construction workers of Kılıç Ali Pasha Complex, a mosque in Istanbul built between 1578 and 1580. If this is true, then Cervantes and some of the other prisoners must have been moved to Turkey. The mosque was named after the Grand Admiral of the Ottoman fleet, who had many names, including Kılıç Ali Pasha. Born Giovanni Dionigi Galeni (1519-1587), he is mostly known in history books as Occhiali, however, he did feature in Cervantes’ Don Quixote under the name Uchali.
If Cervantes did work on the construction, he would have likely struggled without the use of his left arm. It may have been here that he was given the nickname “one-hand”, which may have led him to adopt the Spanish equivalent, Saavedra, as his surname.
Cervantes was in captivity for five years during which he attempted to escape at least four times. Throughout this time his family never raised the required ransom money but, in 1580, Cervantes was fortunate to be “rescued” by the Trinitarians. The Order of the Most Holy Trinity and of the Captives, to give them their full name, was founded by Saint John de Matha (1160-1213) in the 12th century with the express purpose of paying the ransom for Christians held captive by Muslims.
After his rescue, Cervantes returned to Madrid, however, he struggled to find work. His military employers, Don John of Austria and the Duke of Sessa, were both dead, therefore, there was no one suitable to provide Cervantes with a reference. Not much is known about how Cervantes lived between his release and 1584, however, some sources claim he was employed as a spy in North Africa.
By 1584 he was back in Madrid where he had conducted an affair with a married woman called Ana Franca. In November, his illegitimate daughter Isabel was born and, although Cervantes acknowledge paternity, he was then engaged to someone else. After her mother died in 1598, Isabel went to live with Cervantes’ sister, Magdalena.
In December 1584, Cervantes married Catalina de Salazar y Palacios (c.1566-1626) who he had met when visiting the home of a deceased friend in Castile-La Mancha. It is not certain what year Catalina was born, therefore, she could have been anywhere between 15 and 18-years-old on their wedding day. Their wedding documents are the first written record of Cervantes’ use of the double surname Cervantes Saavedra.
It appears Cervantes continued to struggle to find work and even when he was employed, it was not always straightforward. In 1587, he was appointed a governor purchasing agent but soon moved on to be a tax collector instead. Either Cervantes was not good at the job or he was deliberately committing fraud because he was frequently arrested for irregularities in his accounts. Records also show he made several applications for posts in “Spanish America”, however, these were rejected.
At the end of the 16th century, Cervantes was living in Seville but moved to Madrid in 1606. Again, it is not certain what form of employment Cervantes took, however, he was later receiving financial support from Pedro Fernández de Castro y Andrade, better known as the Great Count of Lemos (1576-1622). The Count was a patron of several writers, which suggests Cervantes may have been a full-time author.
In 1613, Cervantes joined the Secular Franciscan Order, also known as the Third Order Franciscan, which was formed of male and female Catholics who wanted to follow the Gospels in the manner of Francis of Assisi (1181-1226). The order was not bound by any religious vows but was a typical way for a Catholic to gain spiritual merit towards the end of their life.
Three years later on 16th April 1616, Cervantes died from what is believed to have been diabetes. Reports of his death record he suffered from excessive thirst, which is a common symptom of the disorder, which at that time was untreatable. As stipulated in his will, Cervantes was buried in the Convent of the Barefoot Trinitarians in Madrid. No evidence suggests Cervantes attended the Church, however, he felt he owed the Trinitarians for rescuing him from slavery.
As befalls many great authors of the past, Cervantes’ fame came after his death. Supposedly, Cervantes had written around two dozen plays by the end of the 16th century, however, only two survive today: El trato de Argel (The Deal in Algiers) and El cerco de Numancia (The Siege of Numantia). The former was based on his time in captivity, however, it did not earn him much money. Playwrighting was one of his many failed careers.
Cervantes’ first attempt at a novel was published in 1585 under the title La Galatea. Contrasting rural and city folk, the main characters, a rural herdsman called Erastro and a cultured shepherd called Elicio, vied for Galatea’s love. Through their dialogue, the reader learns about the differences between pastoral and urban life. Both men believed the other to have certain advantages and a simpler life, however, they soon learnt this is not the case. Cervantes promised a sequel but never got around to writing it.
La Galatea was not a major success in terms of earnings but attracted the attention of many readers and authors. Cervantes also wrote several short stories, which were collectively published in 1613 and dedicated to the Count of Lemos, who was by then his patron. It is not certain whether La Galatea earned Cervantes a patron or whether it was his second novel, for which he is most remembered.
Illustration from Don Quijote by Gustave Doré, with the windmill scene
An illustration from Don Quijote, by Gustave Doré
In 1605, Miguel de Cervantes decided to challenge the ‘vain and empty’ chivalric romance stories that were popular at the time. The result was El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha (The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha), more commonly shortened to Don Quixote. This was actually volume one of the story we know today, however, at the time of publication, Cervantes may not have intended to produce a sequel.
Labelled “the first modern novel”, Don Quixote follows the adventures of Alonso Quixano, who had read so many chivalric romance stories that he lost his mind and decided to become a caballero andante (knight-errant) like the heroes of the tales and serve his country. Having recruited a simple farmer, Sancho Panza, as his squire, Quixano travelled around the country, imagining he was performing his knightly duties.
At the beginning of the story, 50-year-old Quixano was living with his niece and housekeeper in La Mancha. His niece realised her uncle was losing his mind when he, a typically rational man, began to lose touch with reality. Having donned an old suit of armour, there was nothing anyone could do to stop Quixano, who had renamed himself Don Quixote, from setting off on his old horse, Rocinante. Since the heroes of his favourite stories always had a “lady love”, Don Quixote set his heart on his neighbour, Aldonza Lorenzo, whom he renamed Dulcinea del Toboso.
On his journey, Don Quixote met lots of trouble, mostly due to his irrational view of the world. He mistook a brothel for a castle, two friars for enchanters, windmills for giants and a serving girl for a princess. Being slow and ignorant, Sancho Panza did not realise Don Quixote’s monologues and actions were pure fantasy and offered his master his full support throughout the adventure. Eventually, after many mishaps, Don Quixote returned home.
When the book was first published, it was an immediate success. In an attempt to earn money, 400 copies were shipped to the Americas, although, due to shipwrecks, only 70 arrived in Peru. Unfortunately, Cervantes had sold his work to the publishers, therefore, there was no copyright. Pirated copies began to appear across Spain, which deprived Cervantes of financial profit.
In Cervantes’ 1613 book of short stories, he promised his readers a sequel to Don Quixote: “You shall see shortly, the further exploits of Don Quixote and humours of Sancho Panza”. The following year, however, he was preempted by an unofficial sequel to Don Quixote, published under the name Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda. There are many theories about who this pseudonym belonged to, including those who think it was Cervantes stalling for time by faking a scandal. Nonetheless, the writing is poor compared to Cervantes’ and was quickly rejected by the public.
Don Quixote by Honoré Daumier (1868)
Bronze statues of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, at the Plaza de España in Madrid
The real sequel was eventually published in 1615, ten years after the first part. Whilst Part One had been farcical, Part Two was more serious and philosophical. Due to his previous antics, Don Quixote was well-known across the country. Still delusional, strangers decided to take advantage of the confused man, resulting in a series of practical jokes. Still devoted to Dulcinea, Don Quixote sent Sancho Panza to find her, however, he returned with three peasant girls and told his master they were Dulcinea and her ladies under an enchantment. A Duke and Duchess led Don Quixote to believe the only way to lift the spell was to receive three thousand three hundred lashes, although Sancho prevented this from happening.
The story begins to end after a battle on the beach in Barcelona, which Don Quixote lost. The agreed prize for the winner was that the other had to obey the will of the conqueror. The victor declared Don Quixote had to refrain from acts of chivalry for a year. Returning home, Don Quixote fell ill, which remarkably restored his sanity. His final act was the penning of his will, in which he stipulated his niece would be disinherited if she married a man who read books of chivalry.
Both parts of Don Quixote have been published together since 1617, the year after Cervantes’ death. The same year, Cervantes’ final work Los Trabajos de Persiles y Sigismunda (The Travails of Persiles and Sigismunda), a romance story that he completed three days before he died. It did not, however, receive much praise.
Miguel de Cervantes Memorial by Jo Mora, presented to city on Sept 3, 1916 – Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, California
Don Quixote is Miguel de Cervantes biggest legacy, for which he is known throughout the world. He is celebrated across the ocean in America where a memorial statue sits in San Francisco by Uruguayan sculptor Joseph Jacinto Mora (1876-1947). In Australia, a town near Perth bears Cervantes’ name, as does a municipality in the Philippines and Spain. There are several establishments named after the author, including the worldwide education charity Instituto Cervantes, the Miguel de Cervantes European University (Spain), the Miguel de Cervantes Health Care Centre (Spain) and the Miguel de Cervantes University (Chile).
Nowhere, of course, celebrates Cervantes more than his home country of Spain. Located in the city of Valladolid, Spain, is the Casa de Cervantes, a museum set in the house in which Cervantes was living in 1605. The museum consists of 17th-century furniture, paintings and ceramics relating to the author.
In Madrid, the Museo Casa Natal de Cervantes (Cervantes Birthplace Museum) is situated in what scholars believe was the family home where Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra spent his early years. Each room of the house represents the culture, activity and customs of the 16th and 17th centuries to help visitors envisage the life of Cervantes. The museum also boasts a significant collection of Cervantes’ works and provides activities for children, theatre students and literature students throughout the year. They also celebrate the annual Cervantes Week around 12th October.
Whilst it is the legendary Don Quixote that draws people to these museums, it has to be said that Miguel de Cervantes had an equally interesting life. Despite very few facts being known for certain, his experience in war and his capture by pirates make a fascinating story.
“To this day, I remember him lost in a mountain of papers.”
– Jaume Sabartés
Pablo Picasso was one of the most influential artists in the 20th century and is remembered for founding the Cubist movement. His paintings are recognised by his radical style and characteristics of Surrealism, although he was never part of the Surrealist movement. Yet, there was so much more to Picasso’s talents that have been overshadowed by his revolutionary artistic accomplishments. This year (2020), the Royal Academy of Arts brings Picasso’s fascination with paper to the foreground, displaying more than 300 works that span his 80-year career, many of which are hard to believe are his.
“Some day there will undoubtedly be a science… which will seek to learn more about man in general through the study of creative man. I often think about such a science, and I want to leave to posterity a documentation that will be as complete as possible.”
– Picasso
It appears Picasso kept everything – drawings, prints, designs, photographs, manuscripts, poems, doodles on newspapers, ideas scribbled on scrap paper – and the Royal Academy have sorted through the items to create a chronological exhibition entitled Picasso and Paper. Unlike the exhibition Picasso 1932 – Love, Fame, Tragedy at Tate Modern in 2018, which focused on a single year, the Royal Academy attempts to look at every aspect of Picasso’s career. By studying the diversity and range of Picasso’s use of paper, both in preparatory works and final outcomes, the exhibition reveals the mobility of his intelligence and provides a deeper understanding of his work.
Dove and Dog, Picasso age 8
Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso, named after a series of saints and relatives, was born in Málaga, Spain in 1881 to Don José Ruiz y Blasco (1836-1913) and María Picasso y López. He began showing an artistic talent from a young age and his mother claimed his first word was “piz”, short of lápiz, the Spanish word for pencil. Picasso’s father was a painter, specialising in still life, landscape and pigeons, and gave Picasso his first art lessons in 1888. In 1891, Picasso attended his father’s ornamental drawing classes at the Escuela de Bellas Artes in A Coruña. By the age of ten, Picasso had surpassed his father in artistic talent.
The family moved to Barcelona in 1895 following the death of Picasso’s younger sister Conchita from Diptheria. Despite the sad time, Picasso enrolled at the School of Fine Arts, being admitted to the advanced class at the young age of 13. At 16, his father decided to send him to Madrid’s Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando, although he stopped attending after a few days, preferring to study the paintings in the Prado.
Seated Woman with a Shawl, 1899
The Woman in the Blue Hat (Jane Avril), 1901
Academically, Picasso was a realist painter, however, from 1897 he began to show elements of Symbolism, adding unnatural colours to his work. In 1900, Picasso made his first trip to Paris where he shared an apartment with the French Poet Max Jacob (1876-1944), however, severe poverty forced him to return to Madrid the following year.
In 1901, Picasso was heavily impacted by the suicide of his friend Carlos Casamegas (1880-1901). Having met in 1899, they quickly became friends and travelled across Spain together. Casamegas went to Paris with Picasso, however, there were signs his mental health was suffering. It is believed Casamegas shot himself after a rejected marriage proposal.
Casamegas’ death led to the development of what is now known as Picasso’s “Blue Period”. As well as his friend’s death, the works produced during this period (1901-04) express his feelings of loneliness and life in poverty. The majority of his paintings at this time were rendered in shades of blue and blue-green. Subjects included sad-looking women with children, prostitutes, beggars and his recently deceased friend.
Woman with Lock of Hair, 1903
La Vie (Life), 1903
Self-Portrait, 1901
The Royal Academy displays pen and ink studies Picasso made when planning his painting La Vie. The sketches reveal he originally intended to include himself in the painting as though it were set in his studio. By studying these papers, we learn how Picasso approached a painting by experimenting with ideas before applying paint to canvas. By the time he started painting, the figure of himself had become a likeness of his friend Casagemas.
The Frugal Meal, 1904
During his Blue Period, Picasso was introduced to the technique of etching by the Catalan artist Ricard Canals (1876-1931). This printmaking technique, also known as drypoint, involves scratching very fine lines onto a copper plate. The plate is then inked and laid face-down on a piece of paper, which is then squeezed through a printing press. By this process, the image is transferred onto the paper.
Picasso’s debut etching is entitled The Frugal Meal, which depicts an emaciated blind man and sighted woman sitting at a table. A very sparse meal is laid out in front of them, which is not enough for one person let alone two. Blindness was another key theme during Picasso’s Blue Period.
When Picasso made his first engraving, he was also living in poverty and could not afford to purchase a copper plate. Instead, he scraped down a previously used plate, which resulted in a few unintended lines in the background of his etching.
Boy with Cattle, 1906
Head of a Woman, in Profile, 1905
In 1904, Picasso returned to France, leaving his Blue Period behind in Barcelona. Inspired by French performers at the Cirque Madrano, clowns, dancers, acrobats and harlequins, Picasso began a new period: his Rose Period (1904-06). Tinged with the colour pink, these paintings expressed his melancholy feelings towards the lives of these performers. Nonetheless, the pinks and oranges have a much lighter tone than his Blue Period.
As well as painting, Picasso continued to produce etchings and drypoints, culminating in his first significant series, the Saltimbanques Suite. These included portraits of performers and scenes at the circus.
Some critics believe Picasso’s change from Blue to Rose was sparked by his relationship with Fernande Olivier (1881-1966) who was a French artist and model that Picasso met in Paris. They became lovers and their relationship lasted seven years. In 1906, Picasso and Olivier spent the summer at Gósol in the Spanish Pyrenees, which inspired another painting theme. Sticking to the red and orange tones, Picasso began painting the landscape and locals in a stylised way, moving further away from the realist art of his youth. With Olivier as a willing model, he also became more interested in representing the female nude.
Study for Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907
The Royal Academy devotes one room of the exhibition to Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, which he painted in 1907, although they only have a digital reproduction of the final artwork. Around the room are examples of studies and preparatory sketches Picasso produced when planning what would become one of the most revolutionary paintings in the history of art. His sketchbooks suggest the composition was originally going to include a sailor and a medical student in a brothel, however, the final result only featured women.
At first, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon may appear to be a continuation of his Rose Period, however, it was actually the beginning of his African Art and Primitivism Period (1907-09). Picasso had become fascinated with Iberian sculptures that were produced between the Bronze Age and the Roman Conquest. Iberian art, mostly sculptures, was largely inspired by the Greeks, the Phoenicians and Oriental countries and tended to use blocks of shapes rather than carefully sculpted realistic dimensions. Picasso liked this idea of simplification and experimented with it in his sketchbooks.
In 1907, Picasso visited the ethnographic museum at Palais du Trocadéro where he saw and was impressed by African artefacts. This encouraged him to continue to experiment and simplify his drawings into abstract, geometric shapes. Picasso began to reject the teaching of Western art, particularly in terms of perspective, squeezing scenes together into compressed spaces.
Picasso’s sketchbooks are an invaluable resource, providing insight into his transformation from realism to abstract. As time went on, his drawings became flatter, rigid and geometric like the ancient Iberian sculptures. The African influence is obvious in the mask-like faces some of his characters portray.
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon was not publically displayed until 1916, partly because of the shock and revulsion his new style received. Picasso’s rival Henri Matisse (1869-1954) initially assumed this “savage” style was a hoax and he was not the only artist to make snide comments. Fortunately, the French painter Georges Braque (1882-1963) saw potential in Picasso’s new direction.
Head of a Woman, 1909
Man with a Guitar, 1911
From 1909, Braque began working closely with Picasso, exploring the directions Picasso’s latest style could go. Together they developed what we now know as Cubism, however, this is a broad term for the style that quickly spread across Paris and then Europe. Art critic Louis Vauxcelles (1870-1934) coined the word “cubism”, however, Picasso’s work can be separated into Analytic Cubism and Synthetic Cubism.
Analytic Cubism (1909-12) is the style of painting Picasso and Braque developed, which involved using monochrome or neutral colours. Rather than painting what they could see, they mentally took apart the objects and analysed their shapes and forms, then put them backed together like a jumbled jigsaw puzzle.
This style was not restricted to painting, for instance, Head of a Woman, which Picasso sculpted and cast in bronze. The woman is Fernande Olivier, however, rather than producing a likeness, Picasso analysed the form and shape of her head and facial features. In several sketches, Picasso explored the structure of Olivier’s appearance from various angles, fusing different sections and viewpoints together. The final result was based on several sketches merged together.
Violin, 1912
Synthetic Cubism (1912-19) was a further development of the genre made primarily by Picasso. Rather than painting, it involved the use of paper, often in fragments, which were pasted together to make a collage. By using pins, glue, newspaper, wrapping paper and wallpaper, Picasso began making papier collé (pasted paper) paintings by adding elements of collage to his paintings or drawings. This then developed into entire compositions made from paper.
Picasso’s favourite items to depict in this style appear to have been pipes, glasses, guitars or violins. These objects could easily be flattened and recognised through geometric shapes. Occasionally, Picasso would make three-dimensional models of the instruments, however, they retained their Cubist style and would not have functioned properly had they been real.
The outbreak of World War I temporarily separated Picasso and Braque, the latter who was called to join the French army, and Picasso’s artwork became more sombre. This was partly due to the devestation of war but mostly due to the death of his new lover. Olivier and Picasso had split and he had become infatuated with Eva Gouel (real name Marcelle Humbert). Many of his Cubist works expressed his love for Eva and he was devestated when she died from an illness in 1915 at the age of 30.
With his friends gone to war, Picasso sought out other social circles and became involved with Serge Diaghilev’s (1872-1929) Ballets Russes. Picasso was commissioned to design the costumes and set for Jean Cocteau’s (1889-1963) Parade, with music by Erik Satie (1866-1925). The musical score lasted fifteen minutes and involved the sounds of horns and engines to represent the chaos of modern life.
Cubism was still at the forefront of Picasso’s art, therefore, it is no surprise that his designs for Parade were influenced by this. Complicated costumes merged the elements Satie was trying to evoke through his music, including, car horns, high-rise buildings and typewriters.
Whilst working on Parade, Picasso married Olga Khokhlova (1891-1955) who was a ballerina in Diaghilev’s troupe. They spent their honeymoon near the Bay of Biscay in the Summer of 1918 then returned to Paris. Through his wife, Picasso attended many high society events and experienced the life of the rich, although he was still rather poor – his rent was paid by his art dealer Paul Rosenburg (1881-1959).
Igor Stravinksy, 1920
Picasso and Olga had a son, Paulo, however, their relationship was impacted by their conflicting ways of life. Olga preferred social propriety, whereas Picasso wished to retain his Bohemian lifestyle. Nonetheless, Picasso continued to work with Diaghilev’s troupe and collaborated with Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) on his 1920 ballet Pulcinella.
Due to marital conflicts, Picasso began a secret affair with 17-year old Marie-Thérèse Walter (1909-1977). Picasso wished to divorce his wife but this would result in Olga receiving half his wealth, therefore, the couple formally separated instead. As a result, Picasso was legally married until his wife’s death in 1955 and could not marry his new lover. Marie-Thérèse lived in hope of eventual marriage, which never happened, and gave birth to Picasso’ daughter Maya out of wedlock.
Head of a Woman, 1921
Girl in a Hat with Her Hands Clasped, 1921
After the First World War, many artists became a part of the “return to order” movement that swept across Europe. The upheaval of the war caused people to reflect on what life used to be like and for artists, such as Picasso, this involved attempting to recreate the art and culture of classical antiquity. Thus, Neoclassicism was born.
This period, which lasted from 1919 until 1924, is largely omitted from Picasso’s portfolio and visitors to the Royal Academy’s exhibition may be surprised by the abrupt change in style. Picasso made his first trip to Italy in 1917 where he came across many examples of classicism. By using a similar range of media that classical painters used, such as red chalk, and pastels, Picasso produced exaggerated figures, emphasising the round facial features rather than cutting them up as he would have done in a cubist portrait.
Guitar, 1926
Visage (Face of Marie-Thérèse), 1928
Sculpture, Head of a Woman, 1931-2
Picasso’s Neoclassical period was short-lived and he soon returned to his former Cubist style. He continued to collage together different materials, including paper, string, cloth and nails, to make the shape of an object, such as a guitar. By 1925, however, he had caught the eye of another group of artists, the Surrealists. Whilst Picasso never officially joined the movement, his work inspired the leader André Breton (1896-1966) who declared him “one of us”. Picasso was invited to participate in the first Surrealist group exhibition, although he chose to display examples of his Cubist work.
A handful of sketchbooks suggest Picasso was influenced by Surrealist art, although he did not find the manifesto of the group appealing. His series of constructed guitars is similar to works or “found objects” by Surrealist artists and his style of line drawing underwent a transformation. Picasso began experimenting with irrational scale and morphing segments of an image together.
His relationship with Marie-Thérèse inspired many of Picasso’s works, particularly of an erotic nature. She appears in over 40 of his supposedly sexualised drawings of a woman’s head, which led to a sculpture of a woman with an irrationally large nose. A lithograph of Marie-Thérèse’s visage proves the nose is not based on any semblance of truth.
Minotaur, 1933
Minotaur and the Dead Mare before a Cave, with a girl in a Veil, 1936
Minotaur, No.1, 1933
In the early 1930s, Picasso developed an alter ego that he used in his art to express issues in his personal life. This was the half-man, half-bull, lustful minotaur from Greek mythology. Picasso identified with its strength and masculinity and it also alluded back to his childhood and love of Spanish bull-fighting.
The minotaur was known for its ability to overpower women and Picasso attempted to demonstrate this in his drawings, mostly of a sexual nature. The women in his artworks often resembled the women in his life at the time: Olga, Marie-Thérèse and a new lover, Dora Maar (1907-97). The violence of his subject matter may be reflective of the psychological tensions between Picasso and these women.
La Femmes à leur toilette, 1937
The Weeping Woman. VI, 1937
Seated Woman (Dora), 1938
As well as issues in his personal life, Picasso was affected by the Great Depression and the Spanish Civil War. Up until now, Picasso was against mixing politics and art, however, the 1936 uprising of the fascist General Francisco Franco (1892-1975) changed this. Picasso produced a series of etchings showing Franco brutally murdering people.
At this time, Picasso was asked to paint a mural for the Republic’s pavilion at the Paris World Fair of 1937. Initially, Picasso explored the idea of portraying an artist’s studio, however, after the German bombing of the Basque city of Guernica on 26th April 1937, which resulted in hundreds of innocent deaths, Picasso changed his line of thinking. Guernica has become Picasso’s most famous work and the evolution of the painting can be seen in his sketchbooks and through photographs taken by his lover Dora Maar. Whilst considered to be one of the most powerful war paintings, not everyone understands the meaning of the different elements. Picasso, however, refused to explain, saying, “It isn’t up to the painter to define the symbols. Otherwise it would be better if he wrote them out in so many words! The public who look at the picture must interpret the symbols as they understand them.”
After the World Fair, Guernica was displayed as the centrepiece of an exhibition that toured Scandinavia and England, alongside paintings by Matisse and Braque. When Franco won the Spanish Civil War, the painting was sent to the United States to help raise funds for Spanish refugees. It was displayed in the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York City, where a major retrospective of Picasso’s principal works was also held.
Meanwhile, Picasso continued to depict the grief and anxiety caused by the war, particularly in his Weeping Woman series, which was modelled on Dora Maar. A large collage of cut-out wallpaper, which was eventually produced as a tapestry twenty years later, is believed to show the same women Picasso depicted in Guernica. Femmes à leur toilette contains three figures that some have identified as Olga (left), Dora (centre) and Marie-Thérèse (right).
Study for Man with a Sheep, 1943
Man with a Sheep, 1943
When the Second World War broke out, Picasso decided to remain in Paris during the German occupation. His paintings did not conform to Nazi ideals, therefore, his home was often searched by the Gestapo. On one occasion, an officer found a photograph of Guernica and asked if Picasso had done it. The artist replied, “No, you did.”
Sketchbooks from the period show Picasso continued with his paintings but, most interestingly, designed sculptures. Bronze casting was outlawed by the Germans, however, Picasso managed to use bronze smuggled in by the French Resistance. Sketches for Man with a Sheep show the man getting progressively older until Picasso settled on a thin, balding man. The sculpture is believed to be a response to the war, particularly the lives of innocent civilians caught up in the lives of soldiers and weapons. The sketches contribute as much emotion as the final sculpture. In an interview with Picasso, his drawing technique and medium were likened to coagulated blood.
As another means of expressing his emotions, Picasso began composing poetry. Between the beginning of the Second World War and 1959, Picasso wrote at least 300 poems. The Royal Academy displays pages containing his poetry, illustrations and scribbles, the latter which are as expressive as his words.
Portrait of Françoise, 1946
In 1944, after the liberation of Paris, Picasso grew tired of Dora and sought the affection of a young art student, Françoise Gilot (b.1921). Although she was forty years younger than Picasso, they began to live together and had two children, Claude (b.1947) and Paloma (b.1949). Françoise later described her relationship with Picasso as abusive and claimed he had affairs with other women at the same time, for example, Geneviève Laporte (1926-2012), who featured in many portraits. Françoise eventually left Picasso, taking their children with her.
Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1863
Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1960
During his turbulent relationship with Françoise and other lovers, Picasso returned to admiring the artists he had looked up to as a young painter. He was particularly fascinated with Édouard Manet’s (1832-83) Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe (Luncheon on the grass), which had sparked controversy and was ill-received when first displayed in 1836. “When I see Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, I think there will be trouble later on,” noted Picasso. The painting reveals a nude woman picnicking with two fully dressed men.
Picasso recorded his response to the painting in his sketchbooks, making over 150 drawings of the subject in his own style. Twenty-seven of these became paintings and others inspired watercolours, linocuts and three-dimensional cardboard cutouts. Picasso also reproduced works by other artists, Eugène Delacroix’s (1798-1863) Femmes d’Alger dans leur appartement (Women of Algiers in Their Apartment).
Jacqueline Dressed as a Bride Full Face 1, 1961
Head of a Woman, 1962
Self-Portrait, 1972
In his 70s, Picasso made and painted ceramics at the Madoura Pottery in Vallauris on the French Riviera where he met his next lover, Jacqueline Roque (1927-86). He began seeing Jacqueline before his relationship with Françoise had ended, who was plotting to marry Picasso to secure the rights of her children as legitimate heirs of the artist. As a means of revenge, Picasso married Jacqueline in secret in 1961.
By this time, Picasso was an international celebrity and lived in a Gothic mansion with Jacqueline and could afford luxury villas in the south of France. Nonetheless, he continued working and accepting commissions, the majority of which were sculptures. The Royal Academy, however, continues to focus on his works involving paper, such as sketches, prints and cuts outs.
Picasso had the ability to manipulate paper in new and unusual ways, for example, a free-standing paper sculpture of Head of a Woman. The woman, presumably Jacqueline, was initially drawn in pencil, then cut and folded so that she could stand upright. The image looks similar to versions Picasso painted on canvas in the past.
Towards the end of the exhibition, the Royal Academy shows a clip from the documentary Le Mystère Picasso by Henri-Georges Clouzot (1907-77), which captures on film the processes Picasso went through when producing a work of art. What may start as one subject (for instance, a chicken) may become a different subject entirely (for instance, a woman’s face).
Picasso’s final works were a complex mix of styles, however, due to his age, many dismissed them as slapdash works of an artist past his prime. By then, he was in his 90s and very aware of his own mortality. This is evidenced in one of his final self-portraits in which he depicted himself as a skull with terrified eyes and a mouth tied shut (either that or he had not aged well!).
Regardless of how they were received, Picasso continued producing artworks until his death on 8th April 1973. He was entertaining friends with his wife when he suffered pulmonary oedema and heart failure. Whilst Picasso’s past lovers had reported violence and abuse, his relationship with Jacqueline lasted until his final breath. Devastated by his death, Jacqueline shot herself nine years later, passing away at the age of 59. Marie-Thérèse, who Picasso had continued to support financially, killed herself four years after Picasso’s death.
Picasso and Paper reveals the side of Picasso that has been hidden from the world for so long. Everyone knows of his abstract portraits and his cubist paintings, however, his early years, collages and sketchbooks are rarely exhibited. By working chronologically through his life, the Royal Academy has focused more on Picasso’s process rather than his outcomes. Some people may argue that his work appears random, haphazard and thrown-together, however, this exhibition proves a lot more thought went into his work than it might appear.
The exhibition Picasso and Paper is open until 13th April 2020. Tickets cost between £18 and £22 but Friends of the RA can visit for free. Visitors are advised to allow two hours for their visit.
It has been over a century since the works of the Spanish painter Sorolla (1863-1923) were last exhibited in the UK. Known as the “Master of Light” for his luminous paintings, the National Gallery in London has provided the opportunity to see a collection of his works outside of Spain, a chance that may not come again for another hundred years. Until 17th July, The National Gallery has possession of Sorolla’s vivid seascapes and beach scenes, portraits, landscapes and Spanish genre scenes, totalling 58 canvases, many of which won awards.
Self Portrait, 1904
In the first room of the exhibition, the National Gallery describes Sorolla as a family man, however, little is mentioned of his unfortunate upbringing prior to his marriage in 1888. Joaquín Sorolla y Bastida was born on 27th February 1863 in Valencia, Spain to a tradesman, for whom he was named, and his wife, Concepción Bastida. The following year, Sorolla’s sister Concha was born, however, by August 1865, the siblings were orphaned after their parents died from cholera. Fortunately, their maternal aunt and her locksmith husband were able to care for both of the children.
Little else is recorded about Sorolla’s early years except that he began studying art from the age of nine. At 18, Sorolla travelled to Madrid where he studied the masters at the Museo del Prado and at 22, after completing military service, he received a grant to study painting in Rome for four years. These experiences introduced Sorolla to the traditional forms of painting, however, a temporary stay in Paris opened his eyes to the potential of modern painting.
Clotilde in a Black Dress, 1906
María with Mantilla, 1910
Joaquín Sorolla Garcia, 1917
Elena with a Yellow Tunic, 1909
In 1888, Sorolla returned to Valencia to marry Clotilde García del Castillo (1865-1929), who he had met ten years previously when working in her father’s art studio. In 1890, the couple moved to the Spanish capital, Madrid, and by 1895 they had three children: María (1890-1956), Joaquín (1892-1948) and Elena (1895-1975). The National Gallery displays portraits Sorolla made of his wife and children, however, they do not show the exceptional talent of the Spanish painter. These portraits introduce the artist and his family in the same way that a photo album would today.
Mother, 1895-1900
A canvas titled Mother gives a better indication of Sorolla’s potential. The painting reveals Clotilde in bed looking tenderly at her youngest child, Elena, who is enveloped in a bright, white, cottony swathe of light. Although both the bedspread and walls are white, Sorolla has softened the brightness with yellow and green tones to create gentle shadows. This is one of the early examples of Sorolla’s excellent ability to control light in his artwork.
Although Sorolla is considered to be a Spanish impressionist artist, he preferred to work on large canvases, unlike the French impressionists who worked to a much more smaller scale. After his marriage, Sorolla began concentrating on producing large scale works on a social realism theme. Whilst Spanish landscape paintings were greatly admired, Sorolla wanted to bring attention to the hardships of working-class people who lived in the country.
Another Marguerite, 1892
And They Still Say Fish is Expensive! 1894
Sad Inheritance, 1899
Sorolla’s social realism paintings ended up in exhibitions displayed in numerous cities, including Madrid, Paris, Venice, Munich, Berlin, and Chicago. His first success occurred in 1892 when he was awarded a gold medal at the National Exhibition in Madrid for his painting Another Marguerite. This award was shortly followed by first prize at the Chicago International Exhibition for the same painting.
Inspired by a scene Sorolla witnessed on a train, Another Marguerite depicts a broken woman who has been arrested for allegedly suffocating her baby son. Immediately after the event, Sorolla asked passengers to recreate the scene so that he could begin sketching out his idea. The diagonal view of the carriage emphasises its starkness and the downhearted appearance of the woman and two guards is contrasted with the warm glow of light from the window. All these elements build up a melancholy image that, even without context, stirs emotions in the viewers. The title stems from a character in Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832).
Fishing was a popular career for working-class men in Valencia and, whilst it was often rewarding, it also had its dangers. And They Still Say Fish is Expensive! features two fishermen attending their young companion who has been injured by a fish hook. The unstable space within the rocking boat is not the best conditions for performing potential life-saving procedures, however, this is the only space accessible to the fishermen. The title mocks the Spanish population who complain about the price of fish not realising the dangers the fishermen face on a daily basis.
This painting reflects the style of art taught in art schools at the time, the portrayal of light resembling that of 17th-century naturalist painting. Sorolla’s final social realism painting, however, is much more indicative of his future mature work. Sad Inheritance (1899) shows a group of crippled boys bathing in the sea in Valencia under the observation of a monk. These children are crippled as a result of their parents’ syphilis, hence the title Sad Inheritance.
Despite taking the Paris World Exhibition by storm in 1900 and receiving the medal of honour at the National Exhibition in Madrid the following year, Sorolla never returned to the social realism genre. “I suffered terribly when I painted it. I had to continuously force myself. I will never paint a subject like that again.”
The Return from Fishing, 1894
Sewing the Sail, 1896
Packing Raisins, 1901
Sorolla went on to win another gold medal, this time at the Paris Salon in 1895 for his much-admired painting The Return from Fishing (1894). This genre painting shows a group of fishermen returning to shore after fishing on the coast of Valencia. Two oxen are towing the boat through the last of the shallow waters to dry ground. Although Sorolla produced other paintings of fishermen, this was the first to demonstrate Sorolla’s personal style. The way the sunlight plays on the water is excellently portrayed as are the shadows created by the vessel, men and animals. As Sorolla said himself, this was the first canvas on which he had managed to give visual form to his painterly ideal.
Sewing theSail (1896), which won awards in Munich and Vienna, was not as greatly received by some of the critics. Not so keen on the cramped conditions of the sewing party, critic José Ramón Mélida (1856-1933) wrote, “It is highly audacious for him that mass of formless canvas that seems to be the protagonist of the composition.” Whilst Mélida may not have approved of the overall composition, Sorolla was revealing the conditions in which the seamstresses were forced to work. Although the women seem cheerful, emphasised by the colourful climbing vine, their working conditions were not necessarily appropriate for the large canvas sail. Nonetheless, the mass of material gave Sorolla the opportunity to experiment with light and shadow over the folded sail.
These two paintings and many of his other works are known as costumbrismo, which is a term that sums up the “literary and pictorial interpretation of local everyday life, mannerisms, and customs, primarily in the Hispanic scene,” particularly in the 19th century. The majority of Sorolla’s works fall into this category and usually focus on a scene out in the open air. Packing Raisins (1901), however, is set in a gloomier location, which Sorolla witnessed during a sojourn in Jávea in the summer of 1901. Until more recent years, foods like raisins were individually packed by hand – a gruelling, tedious task. Sorolla captured the dreariness of the occupation using thick impasto, which was rather unusual for the artist but, perhaps, was inspired by other impressionist painters.
Portrait of Ralph Clarkson, 1911
Portrait of Amalia Romea, 1897
My Children, 1904
“I dislike painting portraits, unless it is in the open air.”
– Sorolla, 1909
Whilst Sorolla produced a few portraits, it was not his favoured genre of painting. Nonetheless, he applied himself to the genre and was rewarded with a considerable income and firm reputation, particularly in Spain and the United States of America. The portraits displayed by the National Gallery, reveal that Sorolla painted traditional “mundane”, elegant portraits in a similar style to that of Diego Velázquez (1599-1660) and Francisco Goya (1746-1828), both of whom Sorolla admired greatly. In fact, the Spanish journalist Vicente Blasco Ibáñez (1867-1928) wrote an essay in which he referred to Sorolla as the “grandson of Velázquez, son of Goya.”
Velázquez’s influence on Sorolla can be seen in Portrait of Ralph Clarkson (1911) in which a segment of Velázquez’s Las Meninas (1656) can be seen in the background. Ralph Elmer Clarkson (1861-1942) was an American painter who also admired Velázquez. Las Meninas being both artists’ favourite painting was an appropriate addition to the commissioned portrait.
More references to both Velázquez and Goya can be seen in Sorolla’s painting My Children (1904) from which the figures: María, Joaquín and Elena; emerge from a dark background. It is evident that Sorolla asked his children to pose for the painting, which has resulted in a rather disconcertingly intense stare on their faces – thus not quite replicating Velázquez’s technique.
Other artists’ styles creep into Sorolla’s work every now and then, for instance, the aforementioned impressionists. Sorolla’s Portrait of Amalia Romea, lady of Laiglesia (1897), however, was influenced by the work of Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1836-1912). Sorolla painted Amalia Romea in a soft colour palette typical of Alma-Tadema. The side-on, relaxed position of the sitter is also reminiscent of the Dutch-British artist.
Although Sorolla may not have enjoyed portraiture as much as his other types of painting, his reputation caught the eye of William Howard Taft (1857-1930), the 27th President of the United States of America. Invited to stay at the White House with the Spanish-speaking Taft family, Sorolla painted the proud president in a similar fashion to the dark, elegant portraits of Velázquez and Goya. Whilst this particular painting is not displayed in the National Gallery’s exhibition – it is on permanent display at the Taft Museum of Art in Cincinnati, Ohio – it features in the Exhibition Film, which all visitors are invited to view.
The White Boat, Jávea, 1905
Boys on the Beach, 1909
Young Fisherman, Valencia, 1904
Running Along the Beach, Valencia, 1908
Without a doubt, Sorolla’s artistic abilities are at their highest in his paintings of beach scenes. It is the way he created realistic light as well as the movement and dampness of the water that earned him the title “Master of Light”. Living in Valencia and other areas of Spain gave Sorolla plenty of opportunity to capture images of children playing on the sand and amongst the waves. At the time, it was usual for boys to play on the beach naked, whereas girls wore thin dresses or wraps. Although in today’s society scenes such as these would cause outrage, Sorolla’s paintings express the innocence, freedom and joy of the children at play.
Sorolla perfectly captures the colours and movements of the water, of which The White Boat, Jávea (1905) is a perfect example. The sunlight reflecting on the water is extremely realistic, as is the shadow of the boat and the bodies of the two boys swimming in the sea. Boys on the Beach (1909) is another painting that makes Sorolla worthy of his “Master of Light” title. Although the water is shallow, the sand is clearly covered with a layer of liquid and a sheen of water reflects off of the boys’ bare bodies.
Some of these beach scenes also fall into the costumbrismo genre, for example, Young Fisherman, Valencia (1904). Here, a young boy is carrying a basket of fish whilst other children his age splash around in the sea. Despite his age, he is already in the world of work, perhaps coming from a poor family who relies on the income of their children as well as their own to get by.
Running Along the Beach, Valencia (1908), on the other hand, reveals the carefree nature of children who were not forced into work. This is one of Sorolla’s most impressive works; not only has he painted the light on the sea, sand, clothes and bodies, but he has also captured the fast movement of the children. For paintings of this nature, it is not possible to ask someone to pose, the moment is over in a blink of the eye. Sorolla created many quick sketches and studies until he was satisfied with the composition, only then did he take to the larger canvas.
Couple from Salamanca, 1912
Types from the Roncal, 1912
Bride from Lagartera, 1912
Types from Salamanca, 1912
Throughout his career, Sorolla became increasingly known throughout the United States. His success resulted in a commission from Archer Milton Huntington (1870-1955), the founder of the Hispanic Society of New York, in 1911 to paint a decorative frieze for a new hall at the institution. Huntington initially wanted a mural featuring the milestones in Spanish history, however, Sorolla convinced him to focus on “renderings of contemporary life in Spain”. The frieze was to be over 70 metres long and just under four metres in height but Sorolla was not comfortable working at that size and proposed to break it down into a series of canvases of various dimensions.
This commission, known as the Visions of Spain, occupied the majority of Sorolla’s time from 1911 until 1919. During these years, Sorolla was constantly travelling around Spain in order to “truthfully capture, clearly and without symbolism or literature, the psychology of each region.” Sorolla wanted to portray a truthful representation of his country as well as reveal “the picturesque aspects of each region.”
Sorolla focused heavily on the Spanish traditions, often hiring peasants to pose for him in regional dress and various costumes. Whilst these carefully positioned portraits were arguably not the “truth” of the country, they did combine Spanish practices, beliefs and culture.
Unfortunately, this commission required an enormous effort from the ageing artist and it began to affect his health. As a result, Sorolla’s other projects began to dwindle and his reputation began to drop. By the time the Visions of Spain was installed in the hall in 1926, three years after his death, his prominence in the United States had waned and the opening of the hall did not cause the anticipated sensation.
Reflections in a Fountain, 1908
The Smugglers, 1919
Skipping Rope, La Granja, 1907
“We painters can never reproduce sunlight as it really is. I can only approach the truth of it.”
– Sorolla
The exhibition of Sorolla’s work reveals that not only was he skilled at representing natural light in his paintings, but he also loved working in outdoor settings. His better artworks are those that include bodies of water, particularly the sea. A handful of landscape paintings of gardens and famous Spanish buildings fail to live up to the reputation Sorolla set himself with his beach paintings. One of the final rooms of the exhibition displayed a few of the landscapes and gardens, however, the only two that particularly stood out were Reflections in a Fountain (1908) and The Smugglers (1919).
Reflections in a Fountain was painted in the gardens of the Alcázar of Seville. Rather than painting the facade of the building, Sorolla chose to paint the building’s reflection in the water of the fountain. By doing this, Sorolla was able to focus on the light and ripples on the water, which, as evidenced in his beach scenes, he is an expert at.
The Smugglers, whilst considered in the exhibition to be a landscape, is more of a genre or beach painting. Set above the cliffs looking down at the water, several smugglers are caught on canvas climbing up the rock face. Once again, Sorolla was able to play with the bright sunlight on the distant waves and the bright patches and shadows on the steep rocks.
The exhibition also reveals a little about Sorolla as a person. It is evident that he is a family man, faithful to his wife and protective of his children. When his eldest María contracted tuberculosis, Sorolla missed out on two exhibitions whilst he nursed her back to health.
Not including portraits, Sorolla’s children appear in many of his paintings. In Skipping Rope, La Granja (1907), for instance, Elena is skipping around a pond with some younger children. His daughters also appear walking along the beach, sitting on a bench, or even painting their own paintings in his other works.
Sorolla’s career came to an end in 1920 when he suffered a stroke midway through a painting. With half his body paralysed, he was unable to work and his health deteriorated rapidly over the next three years. He finally died on 10th August 1923 when he was staying in the mountains near Madrid. Although his popularity in the States had diminished, he was still loved and respected in his own country and received a state funeral in his native Valencia.
Sorolla: Spanish Master of Light reintroduces a unique artist to a new generation. Although he has been called an impressionist painter, he does not really fit into any particular category of art, therefore, he can be appreciated for his own work with no need to compare with other artists. The exhibition remains open until 7th July 2019 and costs £16, however, members of the gallery can visit for free.
Hazel Stainer 