Prepare to be captivated by the enigmatic world of Joseph Wright of Derby, a master of shadows and light whose paintings offer a chilling glimpse into the dawn of the scientific age. His work, now showcased by the National Gallery, is more than just art; it's a window into the soul of a transformative era.
In An Earthstopper on the Banks of the Derwent, we're confronted with a scene that, while beautiful, carries a hint of darkness. A man, silhouetted against the moonlit night, blocks a fox's den. It's a scene that sparks a moral debate, reflecting the changing times and the evolving relationship between humanity and nature. Wright's masterful use of light – the interplay of the lantern and the moon – breathes life into the night, making us almost hear the rustling leaves and the rushing water.
But here's where it gets controversial: Wright wasn't just painting pretty pictures; he was delving into the heart of a scientific revolution. His paintings, often set in the dead of night, are filled with secrets that are scientific rather than supernatural.
Consider A Philosopher by Lamplight. Two young travelers stumble upon a cave lit by a single candle, where an old man is engrossed with a skeleton. This hermit, a philosopher, is grappling with the mysteries of death, reflecting the era's growing embrace of reason over faith. This painting subtly challenges the traditional beliefs of the time, suggesting that science might offer answers where religion once reigned.
Then there's The Blacksmith's Shop, where the blacksmith's work is illuminated by a glowing metal. The workshop, set within a classical temple, symbolizes the birth of the modern world from the ruins of Christianity. It's a powerful metaphor for the shift from the old to the new, the death of paganism and the rise of Christianity.
A Philosopher Giving That Lecture on the Orrery in Which a Lamp Is Put in Place of the Sun is a spectacle of the Enlightenment. The National Gallery provides a real orrery, a mechanical model of the solar system, for comparison. The painting's allure lies in its depiction of the orrery at different scales. It's vast when viewed from the children's perspective, but small when seen from the adults' point of view. This contrast highlights the different levels of curiosity and engagement with the scientific wonders of the time.
And this is the part most people miss: Wright's An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump, shifts the focus from wonder to dread. The lecturer is about to create a vacuum in a glass chamber, killing a white cockatoo. The machine is a formidable structure, symbolizing the steam engines being perfected by the Lunar Society members. The audience includes members of the local gentry, but the power is in the hands of the scientist. The painting is a chilling depiction of the potential consequences of scientific progress.
Wright's work isn't a rejection of science; it's an acknowledgment of its transformative power. It's a reflection on the changing world and the ethical dilemmas that come with it. What do you think? Does Wright's art celebrate or critique the scientific revolution?
