Happy birthday William #Hogarth! See the satirist, printmaker & portraitist at Tate Britain http://ow.ly/E388f
Featured Artwork of the Day: William Hogarth (British, 1697–1764) | An Election Entertainment | February 1755 http://met.org/ZX6CDc
The English painter, engraver and satirist William Hogarth was born#onthisday in 1697. http://bit.ly/1EumbBK
Image: An engraving from Hogarth’s A Harlot’s Progress, which charts the unfortunate fall of Moll Hackabout after her arrival in London.
西洋美術史英國 霍加斯 (William Hogarth)-簡介
在藝術上我們可以用 David Bindman著的, Hogarth (London 1981) 說明。傳主 W. Hogarth （British artist noted for his satirical narrative paintings and engravings, including A Rake's Progress (1735) and Marriage à la Mode (1745).
http://www.answers.com/topic
David Bindman, Frédéric Ogée and Peter Wagner, eds. Hogarth: Representing Nature's Machines (Manchester , 2001)
それらのどれよりもより多く美を生み出す線、つまり波状曲線を加え
これらは、花々 に、またその他の装飾的な類の形式にみられる。ホガースはそれを「美の線（ the line of beauty）」と呼ぶ。
--
rl留言：
re: The Line of Beauty字面意義我個人偏好的中譯為「美的線條」，因為我認為「美」比
至於深層的涵意，請參考William Hogarth (1697-1764) 的觀點：
http://www.tonyvanhasselt.com
これらは、花々 に、またその他の装飾的な類の形式にみられる。ホガースはそれを「美の線（ the line of beauty）」と呼ぶ。
--
rl留言：
re: The Line of Beauty字面意義我個人偏好的中譯為「美的線條」，因為我認為「美」比
至於深層的涵意，請參考William Hogarth (1697-1764) 的觀點：
http://www.tonyvanhasselt.com
HOGARTH'S LINE OF BEAUTY
Here is a bit of advice handed down through the ages. The artist Hogarth shares with us that anything alive is best expressed with a curved, "s" shaped line, while the straight line is best used for anything "dead". This photo for instance, shows some live trees as well as a "dead" telephone pole. Note the slight "s" curve in the foreground tree. Even the one further back has a slight curve and both have interesting angles.This same "s" curve can be found in the human form, in animals, plants, flowers, in anything alive. Keep the straight lines for structures, created from "dead" materials. This advice is a great help in thinking of dominance and accent. When painting an architectural scene for instance, you'll encounter a dominance of straight lines and need the accent of the curves and angles given to us by tree forms. Next time, think about angling and curving those trees, even if in actuality, they are ramrod straight. They will form a needed relief, an accent for all the straight lines.
Hogarth's Line of Beauty is an excellent example of Dominance, one of The Building Blocks of Painting .
HC留言：William Hogarth, 《美 之 分 析》（The Analysis of Beauty）有漢譯，台灣在 20年前就有翻版。
Ｓ 字 曲 線 等「波 状 曲 線」（ the waving line）是否為此小說之典故，待進一步考察。
***威廉• 賀加斯在《美之分析》一書中說："應該看到，直線只有長度上的變化，因而最少裝飾性
（田旭桐＜線描裝飾畫畫法＞湖南美術出版社， 1999）
http://www.abbs.com.cn/abbs
| 《 |
 | ARTIST.doc 18th century brought a sense of excitement and even national pride that proved contagious among English painters |
Charlotte Higgins in Paris
Saturday October 21, 2006
The Guardian The following correction was printed in the Guardian's Corrections and clarifications column, Tuesday October 24 2006
In an article below, columns two and three of the text were accidentally transposed.
In Hogarth's painting of 1748, O The Roast Beef of Old England, French soldiers in Calais, as pathetic and amphibian-looking as frogs, gaze enviously at a mighty side of beef. It is a potent symbol of English vigour and red-bloodedness, and they aren't getting any; it's being borne off to feed lucky British tourists. This painting is a symphony in anti-French and anti-Catholic sentiment - and now it is hanging in the Louvre, part of the first Hogarth exhibition in France.
Despite being one of Britain's best-loved painters, William Hogarth is barely known across the Channel. There is not a single book in French about him, except for the new exhibition catalogue. Not one of his paintings hangs in the small English School section of the Louvre, or indeed in any other museum in France. So what will the French make of Hogarth the painter - and Hogarth the xenophobe?
Frédéric Ogée, co-curator of the Louvre show, which opened yesterday (a bigger version opens at Tate Britain in February), thinks French visitors will laugh off the gallophobia. "It's to be expected. We've read the Sun, we're used to that sort of thing, and we enjoy it in a perverse sort of way," he said.
If initial reactions from the private view this week are any guide, the work is likely to provoke wry amusement among Parisians rather than patriotic harrumphing. Christine Riding, co-curator of the Tate exhibition, said: "To be honest, when we first suggested that the Louvre take the show we did worry that Hogarth might seem quintessentially English, and not in a terribly positive way. But visitors don't seem worried by the anti-French content; they are really enjoying him as a painter - as a painter of hugely diverse and various skills, as a virtuosic colourist and a creator of undulatingly beautiful and balletic compositions. Hogarth is proving a revelation."
In any case, Professor Ogée hopes that Hogarth's "strong gallophobia" will be seen in the context of his struggle to assert himself as the equal of his European colleagues, and to "promote a specifically English school of art". For the artist was intimately bound up, argues Prof Ogée, with 18th-century Britain's self-image as defiantly "modern", in opposition to the Catholicism and outmoded absolutism of France. Thus his choice of "modern moral subjects", such as his famous series A Harlot's Progress and A Rake's Progress, which, he claimed, were so original as to be "a Field unbroke up in any Country or any age".
Indeed, these narrative works, bursting with the irrepressible and often violent life of mid-18th-century London, will surprise French audiences, according to Valérie Bougault, a writer for the magazine Connaissance Des Arts. "His sense of humour has something very shocking for the French," she said. "Art and humour are not very at ease together in our art history. We do lightness, yes; humour, no."
And for audiences who associate 18th-century art with the quietly dignified canvases of, say, Chardin, Hogarth's exploding, apparently chaotic compositions will take some adapting to. "The way that life bursts into his paintings is unusual for us; French artists were so obsessed with balance and harmony," said Ms Bougault. Prof Ogée and his Louvre co-curator, Olivier Meslay, are also presenting Hogarth as an Enlightenment figure, a painter working in the wake of Newton and Locke, and against the background of the exciting new literary form of the novel, with its sharply self-determined heroes such as Fielding's Tom Jones.
"If there is one thing the French know about, it is the French Enlightenment, Voltaire and so forth," said Prof Ogée. "We want to move the picture back a few decades and show them the English origins of what happened in France.
"The key figures in the French Enlightenment paid tribute to English liberty and values. So on the one hand Hogarth is typically English; on the other he is also crucial to our own, French modernity."
Ms Bougault said: "Your freedom of thought and expression during Hogarth's lifetime would have been unthinkable in France before the revolution. Maybe it will be a subject of envy that you had someone who could paint like that at that time. We, perhaps, would like to have had that."
Given that Hogarth, along with Constable and Turner, would feature among most people's top 10 British artists, why is he so little known overseas? It is, according to Prof Ogée, partly our own fault. "Because Hogarth kept promoting English art as specifically English, European art historians have never really known where to put it. It is not part of the Northern School; it is defiantly insular. British art historians have also encouraged the belittling of English painting, at the same time as claiming that no one else can really understand it. It's a sort of inferiority complex combined with a superiority complex."
The curators are confident, however, that the reputation of British art is improving. "There's real buzz and high in Paris," said Ms Riding. "People are realising that there is more to British art than Turner and Francis Bacon." A lunchtime lecture by Ms Riding and Professor Mark Hallett, her co-curator, saw the 500-seat Louvre auditorium filled to capacity and 50 turned away; the publishers of the French translation of the catalogue are already inquiring about a reprint.
On Hogarth's only trip to France, when he painted O The Roast Beef of Old England, he was arrested for espionage, which did not improve his tender feelings toward his Gallic cousins. On the left of the painting, he depicts himself sketching while a hand hovers above his shoulder, ready to march him off for questioning. "Now his works are hanging in the Louvre," said Ms Bougault, "Hogarth has finally had his revenge."
Behind the painting
Hogarth was not impressed when he visited France in 1748, and decided to return home early. While waiting at Calais for a boat, he sat down to sketch the city gate - only to be arrested in error for espionage and sent home. O The Roast Beef of Old England was his revenge. In the centre a waiter buckles under the weight of a sirloin destined for British tourists. The ultimate symbol of English red-blooded heartiness, it is envied by the feeble-looking French soldiers - one in fact is an Irish mercenary - who sup at gruel. A fat monk salivates too: this is a country where the priests alone are well fed. In the foreground a Jacobite Catholic soldier - this is only three years after the Jacobite rebellion - makes do with a raw onion. Hogarth depicts himself sketching, the heavy hand of the French law about to land on his shoulder. The message: French, Scottish and Irish Catholics, our enemies, are a pathetic lot. Rosbifs rule.
*****
Artist William Hogarth died #onthisday in 1764. Here’s his Beer Street and Gin Lane http://ow.ly/DcGIc
See a new exhibition of Hogarth’s work at The Cartoon Museum, our#MuseumMileLDN neighbours http://ow.ly/DdPZA
William Hogarth
Gin Lane vs Beer StreetOct 26th 2014, 14:05 BY O.W.
ON THIS DAY 250 years ago William Hogarth, the English painter and printmaker, died suddenly from an aneurysm at his studio in Leicester Square, London. As an artist who portrayed both the tragic and the ridiculous with aplomb, Hogarth was one of the eighteenth century’s most sparkling talents. His most famous work is perhaps "Gin Lane" (1751) (pictured; click here for larger image), an intricate etching that vividly depicts London’s poor grappling with gin addiction. It demonstrates both his humour and his heartfelt concern for his fellow Londoners.
While the eye is drawn on the left towards paupers carrying their belongings to the pawnbroker's, and on the right to the men brawling by the undertaker's, the focal point is the figure in the centre. The slatternly, drunk woman is a cypher for Mother’s Ruin, contemporary slang for gin. Her legs are covered in syphilitic sores and she is letting her baby tumble headfirst towards the gin shop as she takes a pinch of snuff. Slumped below her is a wretch even closer to death: a skeletal soldier holding a cask, with a ballad—"The Downfall of Madam Gin"—peeking out of his basket.
Behind this dismal pair are two orphan girls, wearing St Giles badges to show that they are nominally in the care of the parish, drinking by the gin barrels. Hogarth included these children not only for their emotive quality, but because childhood alcohol abuse was a genuine problem among London's poor. The care of impoverished children was of lifelong concert to the artist—he was one of those involved in setting up the Foundling Hospital, one of the great philanthropic successes of the age, which opened in 1739.
Hogarth completed his image with a reminder of governmental impotence. A statue of George I in classical garb looks down at the chaos from the steeple of St George's Bloomsbury in the distance, neatly serving as an indictment of Britain’s uncaring political establishment. From the angle of St George’s, it seems that Hogarth positioned "Gin Lane" roughly behind where the Centre Point building now stands on Oxford Street. In the eighteenth century this area was known as St Giles, a maze of narrow streets notorious in Georgian London as the heartland of the gin craze.
"Gin Lane" was created as part of a pair; it's lesser-known counterpart is "Beer Street". By juxtaposing the two, Hogarth was illustrating the difference, as seen by contemporaries, between gin, a drink for the desperate and disenfranchised, and beer, a wholesome beverage for the working man. While alcohol also flows freely in "Beer Street", it is presented as being a just reward for honest labour. Or, as Hogarth explained: "Beer Street...[is] a contrast; where that invigorating liquor is recommended, in order to drive the other out of vogue. Here…Industry and jollity go hand in hand." Hogarth was prescient: nineteenth-century politicians would indeed use beer to wean people off Mother’s Ruin.
Hogarth himself, although greatly distressed by the gin craze, was by no means puritanical about alcohol per se. He was a sociable man, and was often seen around London, with his pet pug at his side, drinking and dining into the small hours. Nevertheless, having experienced life in a debtor’s prison as a child when his family’s coffee house went bankrupt, he felt a duty to publicise the plight of London’s poorest. In "Gin Lane" he brought together in one vision everything for which gin was blamed by contemporary society: violence, poverty, crime, disease, debauchery, moral decay, and, ultimately, death. It is a scene that has lost none of its punch—even if gin is rather better regarded now, and beer a little worse—the sign of truly gifted artist.
沒有留言:
張貼留言