Prepare to be captivated by the enigmatic world of Joseph Wright of Derby, an artist whose works delve into the shadows and illuminate the fascinating intersection of science and the supernatural.
In his painting, "An Earthstopper on the Banks of the Derwent," Wright presents a scene that is both intriguing and slightly sinister. Under the cover of night, a man toils with a shovel, his actions raising questions. Is he a grave robber, or perhaps a mad scientist collecting body parts? The truth, however, is more complex and reveals a moral dilemma that resonates with modern audiences. The man is blocking a fox den, ensuring an easy hunt the next day. This act, though considered nefarious by today's standards, showcases Wright's ability to capture the complexities of human behavior and the ethical dilemmas of his time.
The National Gallery's exhibition delves into Wright's exploration of darkness and illumination, revealing him as a pioneer of gothic art. During the 1760s and 70s, Wright painted journeys into the night, predating the gothic novel genre by Horace Walpole. But the horror at the heart of these paintings is not supernatural; it is scientific.
In "A Philosopher by Lamplight," Wright presents a chilling scene. Two travelers stumble upon a cave lit by a solitary candle, where an old hermit plays with a skeleton, its hollow eyes staring back. The hermit, a philosopher, seeks to understand death, but science, taking hold in 18th-century Europe, offers a rational explanation: God might be dead, a radical notion shared by Wright's friend, Erasmus Darwin.
"The Blacksmith's Shop" offers another intriguing interpretation. The glowing metal, a symbol of the modern material world, is forged within a classical temple, a reference to Renaissance nativity scenes. Here, Wright suggests the birth of a new era, where the Christian world gives way to a scientific age.
Wright's masterpiece, "A Philosopher Giving That Lecture on the Orrery in which a Lamp Is Put in Place of the Sun," urges us to open our eyes to the true magic of science. The painting, accompanied by a real orrery, showcases Wright's ability to depict different scales and perspectives, from the vastness seen through the eyes of captivated children to the scientific toy-like appearance from a distance.
Wright's work often employs shock tactics. His painting, "An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump," reunites him with another great science spectacle. Here, the focus shifts from wonder to dread as a lecturer prepares to create a vacuum, killing a white cockatoo. Wright's use of light and darkness adds a hard-edged reality to the scene, with the machine at its center resembling the steam engines perfected by Wright's friends in the Lunar Society.
The audience in Wright's painting includes local gentry, but the power lies with the scientist, a modern-day Oppenheimer. Wright intuited that science would change the world, just as surely as the bird would die. The painting becomes a theater of science, power, cruelty, and death, leaving us with a chilling question: is the youngest girl, transfixed by the horror, plotting her own gothic novel?
