Marriage a la Mode

It is clear, for instance that Silvertongue and the Countess had a room on the ground floor because the lawyer survived long enough to be arrested, brought to trial and hanged for murder. We know this because at the lady’s feet is a discarded broadsheet that has a drawing of a gallows at the top and the headline that includes the words ‘Counsellor Silvertongue’ and ‘last dying speech’. Just next to this is a presumably empty bottle with a label reading ‘laudanum’ visible. So, from her surroundings and the fact that her Dad is next to her (remember him from the first painting?) we can deduce that she returned to her father’s home to lie low with her child, who also makes his or her first and last appearance here. Perhaps she has spent frantic weeks pouring over the papers for news of her lover, or following his trial because the suggestion is that the news of his death has made her so desperate that she has now chosen to take her own life surrounded by her loving family and faithful servants. Or not.

Let’s talk about her Dad first. Is he distraught that she’s breathing her last? No. He’s removing the ring from her finger. Okay, so in the case of suicide all of her possessions would have had to have been turned over to the crown so you could say that he’s making the best of a terrible situation but in all honesty I feel he could have waited just a while longer and allowed her to give one final (or perhaps one single – we know she wasn’t maternal!) cuddle to the child that is being presented to her by the maid.

The child isn’t, it has to be said, the cutest little thing. It could be a boy or a girl as both wore dresses until the age of around 8, but whichever sex he or she is, they haven’t been given the best start in life. We’ve seen that sunken bridge on the nose before in Dr. M. La Pillule and we’ve certainly seen the black spot. The poor child is suffering from congenital syphilis. If you recall, the doctor was rather bandy legged but here the disease is so far advanced that surgical boots and braces are required, all suggesting that the heir to the Squanderfield title won’t last long at all. Cast your mind back again to the first image and the ostentatious family tree that started with William the Conqueror. That’s about to come to abrupt end.

The blame for the ‘abrupt end’ of the Countess is, it seems, being put firmly at the feet of the footman. Is he a footman? A servant, certainly. He’s not the brightest and the apothecary (I’m very disappointed not to meet Dr La Pillule again) appears to be berating him for not preventing the lady’s death. The items in his pocket have been identified as a stomach pump 18^th century style, and a bottle of syrup which was used to induce vomiting. Apparently that’s all too late now.

I’ve said that I’m sad not to see Dr La Pillule but, wait, there is another shadowy figure heading out the door to the left of the work. Could that be him? It’s hard to tell as he’s half hidden and has his back to us. Having delivered the news that has prompted the Alderman to remove the ring from the Countess’s finger, he may well be admiring the line of buckets on the wall. Each is marked with an ‘S’ for sand. Once again, we are invited to look back to the earlier works and perhaps think of that marvellous proverb ‘don’t kindle a fire you can’t extinguish’ that was suggested by a smouldering corset ribbon in The Bagnio. Doesn’t that seem a lifetime ago now?

The ostentatious bad taste of the young couple’s marital home is also lightyears away from the strange meal on the table. I would worry that they aren’t getting enough nutrients if they eat like this: an egg on what the National Gallery suggest is a plate of rice, a couple of slices of bread and a pig’s head that the dog is tucking into. I’d say that the fact that the dog is warily about to slide it off the table by the ear makes reference to their ‘pig’s ear’ of a marriage but the expression wasn’t in common use until the mid 20^th century. However, the old proverb ‘you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear’ dates from the 16th century and I think that just about sums up the whole charade!

Who can identify, by the way which bridge the Alderman’s house has a view of? It’s not the one I mention in the live talk because that wasn’t built until the 19th century – doh! Sometimes I have to make a ‘deliberate’ mistake!!! I made the same mistake back in February too in the post about Valentine’s cards which you can watch here or read about here. It’s London Bridge, not Tower Bridge, obviously…

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

The fourth work in the Marriage a la Mode series is ‘The Toilette’. In the last painting Viscount Squanderfield was seen at the dodgy doctors. Here, back at the Squanderfield residence, the Viscountess is having a high old time.

We are once again in a bedroom, and there above the bed is a coronet (there’s one on top of the canopy in the first image as well) which signifies to those in the know that the couple are now the Earl and Countess of Squander, meaning that the old Earl has passed away. They are clearly proud of their new status as the Countess is also displaying the coronet on her mirror of her dressing table.

They have a successor too – on the back of the Countesses chair is a coral teether.

I have to say, however, that the Countess doesn’t look the maternal type. She’s surrounded by an interesting array of visitors in the manner of the French aristocracy who would receive visitors for the grand levée which was made famous by Louis XIV and followed a strict protocol that denoted rank and status depending on the role you were given. Basically it was people helping the King or Queen get ready for the day in front of an audience. So far so pretentious. We know that this is morning because her guests are being offered hot chocolate and the countess herself is having her hair curled.

What a morning this is! It’s definitely not for anyone who needs peace and quiet before their cornflakes. The opera singer to the left is probably a castrati, possibly modelled on a famous singer of the day, hired along with his flautist to entertain this motley crew. Judging by his sumptuous attire and abundant jewellery, I think we can assume that he’s well paid and therefore expensive to hire.

It’s a mixed response from the guests. The gentleman in the middle is enraptured. I wonder whether he has made a trip to Dr Pillule at some point because he is suffering from syphilis too judging by the black spot on his face? The lady in white is practically swooning and completely absorbed so that she doesn’t notice the manservant trying to offer her a cup of chocolate. On the other hand the guy with the riding crop (!) is fast asleep.

The fellow with the curling papers in his hair is delicately sipping his chocolate whilst absorbed in his thoughts. Hogarth makes it pretty evident that he won’t be dreaming of young ladies: the image behind him is very like Michelangelo’s Gannymede which is the story of how Zeus fell in love with a beautiful young boy who he abducted in the guise of an eagle. Despite the shock, Gannymede became his cupbearer and constant companion.

And what of Countess Squanderfield, is she enjoying the performance she’s paid such a lot of money to hear? Er, I doubt she is even aware of it, so mesmerised is she by the fellow sitting to the right of the image. He’s made himself properly at home with his feet (rudely) on the sofa, and is obviously well acquainted with the lady of the house as he holds out an invitation to her and gestures towards the screen behind him. The screen shows a couple dressed as a friar and a nun attending a masked ball, suggesting that he is inviting her to a similar event and that he has even thought about the costumes they could wear. Do you recognise him? He’s Silvertongue the lawyer who was so solicitous in the first painting of the series. It’s quite evident that they are close because the portrait on the wall above Gannymede is of him. Was Squanderfield too absorbed in his own shenanigans to notice or doesn’t he care?! Hmmm.

Obviously the beauty of a masked ball is that you go in disguise so no one knows it’s you which means that it’s also easier to slip into a room rented out by the hour. But they wouldn’t do that – would they? The book inconsequentially tucked down the side of the sofa on which Silvertongue sits would suggest that they would. It’s called ‘La Sopha’ and was an erotic novel about a soul that was condemned to inhabit sofas until a pair of virgin lovers lost their virginity on top of them. Classy.

Speaking of classy, the countess still loves her tat. In the foreground is a collection of bibelots still with auction numbers attached. The catalogue is in the bottom right corner beneath the basket the contents of which are being enjoyed by the young black boy wearing a turban. This is another crass opportunity for the couple to demonstrate their wealth and fashionable status as it was popular for wealthy households to have black pageboys and to treat them as part of the family almost as a pet until they tired of them.

Here, the pageboy serves another purpose. He has pulled out the figure of a man with horns on is head and is pointing at him and laughing. I can’t imagine that the child is aware of the story of Diana and Acteon, nor that horns were symbolic of the cuckold. They are more confirmation, as though it were required, that the Countess has, or is about to take, Silvertongue as her lover.

The final two aspects to mention are the invitations mixed in with playing cards strewn all over the floor – clearly the Countess is part of the fast set – and the final two paintings on the wall, both of which are recognisable as works after Corregio.

The image on the left is Io being seduced by Zeus disguised as a cloud this time – note that this is also about disguise and masquerade.

The image above is Lot and his daughters. They believed that the world had been destroyed and got their father drunk so that he would sleep with them and perpetuate the human race. I’m not sure about the meaning of this with the reference to incest, perhaps it’s more about family betrayal and there’s plenty of that going on, right from the start!

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.

If you’d like to know more about the story of Diana and Actaeon, I discuss Titian’s rendition of the myth in my poesie series. They are all available to watch on the ‘Free Art Videos’ page, but to make things easy, here are the specific links:

The story of Diana and Actaeon

An analysis of Titian’s Diana and Actaeon

The strange biography of Titian’s painting of Diana and Actaeon

We’re going to spend the next weeks doing a deep dive under the very murky covers of Hogarth’s extremely famous series of images, collectively called Marriage a la Mode.

We start here in this rather claustrophobic and cluttered bedroom. How do we know it’s a bedroom? The piece of canopied furniture in the top right is a bed. The bedroom as a very private space is a relatively new concept which is lucky because Earl Squanderfield has invited quite a number of people in to a) witness it’s opulence and b) for a rather important negotiation.

I know what you’re thinking at this stage. You’re wondering how I know that this guy is called Earl Squanderfield?

Hogarth created these images to be engraved so they came with captions.

Let’s look at this negotiation. There’s quite a lot of money on that table, all heading in the Earl’s direction and presided over by a very keen eyed, slender gentleman who is presumably helping to broker the deal. Evidently it’s going well because the burning candle indicates that the documents are about to be sealed with hot wax.

We know that the money belongs or belonged to the man on the left because there’s an almost empty bag at his feet with just a couple of coins spilling out – it seems they’re all that’s left! It’s a good dowry. Is the Alderman willing to pay because his daughter is absolutely besotted with his son and vice versa? Erm, looking at them I don’t think so. They couldn’t seem less interested in each other if they tried. The reason for his willingness to part with a significant amount of cash is Squanderfield’s lineage.

Squanderfield gestures himself with one hand and with the other he’s pointing at a rather comical version of a family tree in which an entire tree appears to have grown out of the stomach of William the Conqueror, or at least a medieval knight. A piece of nonsense? Definitely! But the message is clear. One family have the title, the other the money – match made in heaven. Or not.

At this point you may be thinking well, that’s all fine regarding the title but Squanderfield seems to be doing well for himself too. You don’t get gout (which is what the bandaged foot and crutches tell us he’s suffering with) on a vegan, teetotal diet. For that you generally need rich, expensive food and alcohol. Plus, he has a bed that is sumptuous enough to be shown off to illustrious guests and a lot of very fancy paintings on the wall, including a large self-portrait.

Let’s linger on that for a moment because it’s a great insight into Hogarth’s sense of humour.

He used to become particularly agitated on the subject of foreign portraitists who he felt dominated the genre in England to the detriment of English artists. I say English rather than British because Hogarth was known to sign works W Hogarth ‘Anglus’ (English). Van Loo a French portraitist was the favourite at the time so he’s borrowed his style and depicted the Earl wearing the French Order of Saint Esprit, or the Order of the Holy Ghost, a chivalric honour an Englishman could never have been awarded.

It’s hard to know whether Hogarth disliked foreign portraitists or painting portraits himself more. He called it ‘phiz-mongering’!

BUT there’s a clue to suggest that perhaps Squanderfield needs more money, and it’s not just in his name. The fellow looking out of the window is holding a document that has ‘a plan for the new building’ written across the top of it. The fancy building the architect is gazing towards is Squanderfield’s new house so he’s going to want huge sums of money; this marriage is most definitely also in his interest.

So we should feel sorry for this couple who are merely pawns in a game of wealth and status. The daughter certainly gets my sympathy here. She looks absolutely distraught, wringing her hanky whilst a smarmy looking lawyer called Silvertongue is paying her rather more attention than he should whilst perhaps trying to outline the benefits of this union which she knows she would do well to avoid (but doesn’t have the choice). Just look at her husband to be. He’s certainly impressed with himself even if she isn’t, and is gazing lovingly at his own reflection in the mirror as he takes a pinch of snuff. He’s all dressed up in the latest French fashions, and he even looks to have the French disease. Notice the black spot on his neck?

There may be trouble ahead.

The chained dogs (who can’t even look at each other) reflect that!

As an added extra, the images on the wall are all recognisable as famous works.

The central image on the wall to the left shows a Medusa’s head (after Caravaggio)
To the right of the Medusa is Prometheus gnawed by a vulture (nice!) (after Titian)
Below this is Cain killing Abel (after Titian)
On the upper left The Martyrdom of St. Agnes (after Domenichino)
Below this the Martyrdom of St Lawrence (after Le Sueur, originally after Titian)

On the right hand side, the large image to the left of the portrait is David and Goliath (after Titian)
Beneath this on the lower left St Sebastian (after Titian)
Below to the right Judith and Holofernes (after Titian)

Do you think Hogarth had an artist’s crush on Titian?? Or was he snubbing him by putting him on the wall of such a vulgar fellow as with the Van Loo??

The video of this episode can be viewed here. To view the entire ‘Elevenses with Lynne’ archive, head to the Free Art Videos page.