Speaking art to power

By Kathleen Mellen

Published on August 18, 2006

THE public lampooning of politicians and other public figures is a long-revered artistic tradition. But it can prove a risky career move, especially if you chose to ridicule really powerful people - like, for example, the King of France.

An exhibit of works by 19th-century French satirists who did just that, 'The Print, the Pear and the Prostitute' on view at the Mead Art Museum at Amherst College, takes a look at the power that print has as a vehicle for political and social commentary - and at some of the consequences for those who chose to exercise that tool.

The exhibit features mainly caricatures by Honore-Victorin Daumier a 19th-century French artist and caricaturist, known for his witty yet biting political and social commentary. Also on view are works by Louis-Leopold Boilly, Edgar Degas, Paul Gavarni, Edouard Manet and others.

Daumier, a prolific artist, is known to have produced some 4,000 lithographs during his career, as well as 300 drawings and 200 paintings. In the 1830s, France's King Louis-Philippe and his government often served as fodder for Daumier and other caricaturists, whose parodies of the government appeared in Parisian newspapers.

As illustrated in this exhibit, Daumier's engaging works were all the more effective because, as a skilled artist, he was able to illustrate his subjects' personal qualities by cleverly infusing his caricatures with their familiar gestures and postures - making them immediately recognizable to the public.

One of the papers that published Daumier's work, La Caricature, was among the first in France to incorporate political lithographic imagery. But its production was short-lived; the weekly paper was forced to shut down under the pressure of severe new censorship laws enforced by the king in 1835. But not before printing numerous lithographs by Daumier and others that derided the very laws that would eventually lead to its demise.

One of Daumier's lithographs on view at the museum, from an 1860s series, 'Actualites,' takes on that censorship with his characteristic caustic wit. Stylistically similar to today's political cartoons, the work, set in a Parisian cemetery, utilizes individuals to represent institutions - in this case two forlorn men, each representing a French newspaper, sit at a grave, mourning the death of journalistic freedom.

Daumier eventually landed in jail for his mockery of the French government. And he wasn't alone. Charles Philipon, who often depicted King Louis-Philippe as a bottom-heavy pear - sometimes with rotting skin - in his sketches, was charged with lese-majeste - violating the dignity of the king - and, like Daumier, served six months in jail.

Jean-Ignace-Isidore Gerard, known by the pseudonym J.J. Grandville, irreverently played on the resurrection of Christ in his print, 'The Resurrection of Censorship,' which appeared in 1831, also in La Caricature. In it, Count d'Argout, who was in charge of censorship under King Louis-Philippe, rises gleefully from a grave. As the count stretches his pointy, devil-like toes, another man - appearing too-well-fed and complacent - dozes nearby. The hat on his head reads, 'constitution.'

Eventually forced by censors to look to other subjects for his satire, Daumier also took on Paris' high life, changing social mores, child-rearing practices, advances in technology and even women's liberation (which he reportedly despised).

In his prints from the 1855 'Universal Exposition' in Paris, a forerunner of the 20th century's World Fairs, Daumier comments on Paris' fascination with new technology. His amusing 'The Turnstile,' shows a woman's first encounter with what Daumier called 'the enemy of the crinoline petticoat.' In the picture, a woman, whose skirts seem hopelessly entangled in the offending machine, glares back in disgust at the newfangled contraption.

In 'Les Bas-bleus,' a collection of 40 lithographs from 1844, Daumier takes on the rise of liberated women in Paris - the bourgeois femme-auteurs, female authors who were infiltrating the city's literary salons.

Apparently disgusted by the growing trend, Daumier ridiculed the women, depicting them as homely, aggressive and dangerously neglectful mothers. In one print from the series on view at the Mead, a mother is seen sitting at a writing table, her back turned away as she tragically ignores her infant who is stuck face down in a water-filled tub.

The Mead exhibit is the culmination of a European Studies class at the college. The prints have been drawn largely from the museum's permanent collection. Each of the 60 works on display is accompanied by a helpful description that places the work into an historical context.

'The Print, the Pear and the Prostitute: Art Politics and Society in 19th-Century France' will be on view through Sunday Aug. 20 at the Mead Art Museum at Amherst College. Hours are Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, noon to 8 p.m.; Thursdays, 1 to 8 p.m. The museum is closed Mondays. Admission if free. For information, call 542-2335 or visit www.amherst.edu/mead.