Uncategorized

I don’t want to use my imagination too much here because this isn’t a scene I want playing in my head but clearly things were a bit frenzied when they got to the room. There are clothes strewn everywhere, her shoes have been abandoned next to a mask and the invitation to the ball, her corset has also been discarded and has landed on top of a bundle of sticks meant for the fire. This bundle of sticks was also known as a bundle of faggots, faggot being a derogatory term for a prostitute so Hogarth is giving us more than a nudge as to what he thinks of all this carry-on!

You might notice too that a ribbon from the corset is beginning to smoulder. This is not a reference to how sexy and smouldering the couple are but a reference to a proverb ‘kindle not a fire that you cannot extinguish’; a warning that I’m going to say comes rather too late judging by the state of the bed!

Anyway, somehow the Earl has burst in on the delightful pair. Has he been told of their tryst or did he just happen to wandering by the same bagnio?? Who can say?! What we can say is that it’s likely he wished he hadn’t because now he’s been stabbed by sleazy old Silvertongue who is showing us his best side as he scarpers out of the window in his nightshirt. What a sweetheart.

The Countess is suddenly contrite and begging forgiveness on her knees with Silvertongue’s blood soaked sword next to her but I don’t think that’s uppermost in the Earl’s mind as he slides dramatically to the floor. At least he didn’t die of syphilis in the end (although the reminder that he has it is ever present)! It’s been pointed out that his head is framed by a mirror, a reminder of his vanity in the first painting where he only had eyes for himself.

He evidently hasn’t gone quietly either as the proprietor has alerted the local constabulary and they make their appearance at the door over to the right of the work.

Now, I have never been in a room that might be rented by the hour but I don’t imagine that they would be lavishly furnished with works of art. So what, you might wonder, is the deal with a wall that is not only adorned with a tapestry, but has works of art hanging over the top of the tapestry. Tapestries weren’t cheap either!

The tapestry is of the Judgement of Solomon who carried out a novel maternity test on two women both claiming to be the mother of the same child. He suggested that the baby get cut in two so that they could have half each. Obviously there was no way that the real mother would let this happen. I’m not sure whose body the portrait of the lady obscures but the work has been strategically placed for comic effect (note where the parasol she’s holding is positioned) and as yet another dig at Countess Squander because she’s holding a squirrel which, guess what, was also slang for a prostitute.

Apparently these legs are rather similar to those of an engraving of Samuel McPherson who, at the time that Hogarth was painting Marriage a la Mode, became infamous for being shot for desertion. No surprise that they are right next to the rather less attractive legs of Silvertongue.

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

Viscountess Squanderfield is absent from Hogarth’s Marriage a la Mode – The Inspection, the third painting in the series. And my goodness, doesn’t Viscount Squanderfield look all the better for it? The arranged marriage of an exchange of money for title and the separate lives he and his new wife are living in gloriously bad taste all seem to be set aside here. However, no one else in this image is in quite as marvellous spirits; that’s unsurprising because we’re actually in a doctor’s surgery.

We’re in the consulting room of one doctor La Pillule (Dr Pill) along with a pretty angry looking lady who’s flicking open a pocket knife, Squanderfield and a child.

It doesn’t take too much to work out what the trio are doing there, and Hogarth has given us some very good clues as to the relationships between them.

Let’s take the Viscount first. We know that he has syphilis; the black spot on his neck in the first image of the series is ever present. He’s holding out a pill box containing three black pills.

There’s a very similar box between his legs right by his groin, and the young lady, who is also positioned between his legs, holds a third identical box (or one of these is the lid). The suggestion is that they’re in it together, that he has passed on the disease to his young mistress and is now taking a passive aggressive approach to the doctor as he explains that his mercury pills aren’t actually working and perhaps the doctor could find a different cure. Good luck with that one!

The lady in the centre is looking back at him possibly as though he’s an absolute idiot (which frankly he is because mercury pills were just about the only known cure for syphilis), or it has been suggested that she’s mad at him because he may have just accused the girl of passing the disease to him rather than the other way round. There’s the possibility, too, that the doctor has just made this very same accusation. Whoever it is pointing the finger, or not, she’s reacting strongly. Why would she care? She cares primarily because this would be very bad for business. I think it’s safe to assume that she’s the girl’s madam. The lady herself has been branded, quite literally, as a prostitute. She has ‘FC’ for ‘female convict’ tattooed just above her left breast, plus there’s something quite bawdy about her dress and demeanour, not to mention that she has those ubiquitous black spots too.

There are two factors that make this situation even worse: if she’s so cross that the Viscount has accused the girl of passing on the disease, the inference is that she probably sold her as a virgin; and it’s likely that she’s the girl’s mum. Look at the brocade on the woman’s sleeve and compare it to the girl’s skirt. They are made out of the same material. It subtly binds them together. The poor girl has been forced into the same profession as her mum, by her mum, and cuts quite a tragic figure, her clothes are a bit too big for her, she’s dabbing at her lip, perhaps at a sore, with her hanky – Hogarth excels at the little details.

So, in this room full of lies, accusations and tragic figures, does the doctor stand apart as an honest and moral figure? Does he heck! Look at the state of him!

For a start he looks as though he’s been on the 18^th century equivalent of special brew for at least 30 years but it isn’t just that that gives him an odd look. The large forehead, the bridge of his nose that seems to have collapsed, the fact that he doesn’t seem to have any teeth and the extremely bandy legs are all indications that he has…guess what? Congenital syphilis. Even the skull on the table to his right is full of holes suggesting that it has been eroded away by the same disease.

The summer of syphilis peaks right here!!!

As ever with Hogarth the room is another protagonist in this sorry tale.

Surely you’d steer clear of a room in which a skeleton was wrapped suggestively around, not to mention groping, an anatomical model whilst a wigged mask broomstick looks on? I love the look on the anatomical model’s face but if illicit sex isn’t tangoing with death here, I don’t know what this is about! BUT the position of the trio behind the Viscount insinuates that this is going on behind his back. Does this reference the young girl or perhaps his wife, or even both? I love the way that Squanderfield pretty much points out this little vignette with his cane, even if this is unwitting on his part.

There are all sorts of other random objects that tell us that Dr La Pillule has a rich and versatile professional life. The contraptions to the right, according to the open book are his own inventions. One is to reset your shoulders and the other is a cork screw. Rather like the image of Medusa in the first painting, there is a creepy head on the shelf that looks as though it has a bone going through it although if you look more closely it’s clear that the bone is attached to the wall. The National Gallery suggest that the head could have been used as an apothecary’s shop sign which tells us that the good doctor is  a chemist too. It would seem, however, that now he’s so sure of receiving customers that he no longer needs to advertise. Either that or he’s under the radar?

Whatever the situation, I think it might be just about to get worse for the young lady. Dr La Pillule is gearing up for an inspection by the way he’s polishing those glasses. The image, after all is entitled ‘The Inspection’. Poor child.

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 last time we saw this pair, in the first of Hogarth’s Marriage a la Mode series, she was a distraught, pale faced young lady who was being handed over to a vain, snuff sniffing dandy with syphilis. The transaction between their fathers was one of a title for money.

Looking at this, we might feel that they’ve actually done rather well. They are in sumptuous surroundings and after all the image is called ‘tête-à-tête’ indicating an intimate conversation, literally ‘head to head’ but look slightly more closely and it’s quite clear that the title is somewhat ironic.

Let’s take the lady first. She looks very self-satisfied or perhaps just satisfied. Her languid yawn with her arms up reveals her open bodice; we can see her corset which is not terribly ladylike but even worse is the way she’s sitting with her legs akimbo and erm, is that a large wet patch in the centre of her skirt? I’m afraid it is! She’s giving her husband the side-eye so if we were going to be generous, we might decide that they’ve had a riotous time together.

There’s a pack of cards discarded on the floor, and the violin cases and the music book suggest not so much music in this instance but sex.

Music was often used as an allusion to sexual activity and just look at the way the violin cases happen to be placed on top of each other, and the way that the violin on top protrudes from the case. Hogarth is keen for us to get the picture!

But looking at him, he’s not so full of himself. Actually I would say that he looks rather dejected, as well as utterly dissipated and hungover. We can see that huge black spot on his neck indicating syphilis so has he perhaps been abstaining? Well, if we read the clues, yes and no.

Remember the dogs in the first image that were chained together but couldn’t even look at each other? It’s man’s best friend that is giving the game away here, too!

What’s the dog sniffing? It’s a bonnet in the Viscount’s pocket and it almost certainly doesn’t belong to the Viscountess. So, it is very much suggested that he’s been out, perhaps to a brothel, whilst she’s stayed at home. However, take a look at the sword on the floor next to him. It’s broken. If a sword is a common phallic symbol, a broken one is a symbol of impotence. So perhaps he abstained through no desire of his own.

There’s another aspect of the work that could lead us to think of impotence; the bust on the mantlepiece has a broken nose. That is sometimes a signifier of impotence but other readings could be that it indicates adultery (throughout the centuries and across cultures, it hasn’t been uncommon for adulterers to have their nose broken in a fight or otherwise – there’s a story of a wronged wife almost chopping off her rival’s nose in 18^th century Paris. It was saved by a surgeon), but I would also conject that it’s another sign of syphilis. My summer obsession!!!

So, it becomes obvious that the Viscount has been out and about and his wife has entertained at home. There are two further clues to note on that score; she’s holding up a mirror in quite an unusual way suggesting that she’s perhaps signalling to her lover who made a hasty exit out of the room, and out of the painting, knocking over a chair in the process.

There’s of course another possibility that they’ve run away from the sheer volume of bad taste in what should be a very elegant room. That’s not an actual theory, it’s just allowed me to segue seamlessly back to the mantlepiece where there’s a lot of tat on display in a mishmash of different guises from Buddhas to weird saint type figurines with big hands. They are the sort of second rate antiquities that were palmed off to gullible 18^th century collectors who had more money than sense and taste. Even the bust has a man’s face but the hairstyle of a Roman matron. There’s so much available to be picked apart and discussed by the people viewing this image, who, don’t forget were largely the middle classes who would have been delighted I’m sure to have had the opportunity to have ridiculed the aristocracy for their terrible taste and manners.

It’s the clock, however, that is usually reserved for the most ridicule. Elaborate isn’t the word! A cat flanked by fish ‘swimming’ amongst a whole load of foliage with another Buddha at the base holding a couple of candles. Classy! It also reads 12.10 ish by the looks of things which serves as an indication of just how debauched this pair is. It’s clearly not just past midnight, by the way, otherwise the despairing accountant with a stack of bills and receipts surely wouldn’t be there at all. He’s another indication of the couple’s bad behaviour as is the slovenly servant to the rear of the image who still has his nightcap on by the look of things.

The servant draws our attention to this area of the room which has four large paintings of saints, (again, the lovely irony!), several smaller images that can’t be made out and then a work with a curtain partially drawn over it. 18^th century audiences would immediately identify this as something saucy or lewd, especially as we can see a well turned ankle and a dainty foot poking out. Infrared technology has revealed that Hogarth actually painted a Madonna and child that he later decided to cover up. Perhaps the joke is partially on us?!

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