Writing in 1973, the art historian Ernst Gombrich (somewhat portentously) noted: ‘In … the history of art, we have become intolerably earnest. A false prestige has come to be attached to the postulation of profound meanings or ulterior motives. The idea of fun is perhaps even more unpopular among us than the notion of beauty’.
As Melbourne is currently hosting its annual International Comedy Festival – now in its 33rd year and the second largest comedy festival in the world – it is clear that people enjoy a good laugh. But, visiting an art gallery is more likely to be ‘serious business’ or an ‘educational experience’ than a riotous romp.
Of course, some artists do embrace the absurd, albeit with a message to reflect on important contemporary issues. In the past artists like Marcel Duchamp, Rene Magritte, the Dadaists, and Surrealists have challenged viewers to make sense of the ambiguities of our inner and outer worlds.
More recently, Maurizio Cattelan, Martin Parr, William Wegman, Sarah Lucas and David Shrigley have produced provocative, droll and wry commentaries on life and art. But, looking at the current National Gallery of Victoria ‘Triennial’, there are only a handful of works (out of the more than 80) that stand out as quirky and humorous. Julian Opie’s ‘Australian birds’, BTTV’s ‘Walls 4 Sale: near new and supersized’, Porky Hefer’s ‘Plastocene – Marine Mutants from a disposable world’, and Patricia Urquiola’s ‘Recycled woollen island’ were clearly enjoyed by the crowd due to their playfulness. ‘Fun art’ is more likely to be found in the children’s area than in the rest of the gallery.
However, there was a period when art was particularly appreciated for its comedic value. In 2017, the Frans Hals Museum in Haarlem staged an exhibition – ‘The Art of Laughter: Humour in the Golden Age’ – which highlighted how jokes and bawdy humour were central to the life and art of the Dutch people in the 17th century. Featuring more than 60 works, the exhibition provided examples of comic characters, visual punning, explicit humour and … people laughing.
According to contemporary reports, in the 17th century, the Dutch were renowned for their joviality and humour. Variously described as ‘convivial’, ‘comical in speech’ (sometimes to excess), and even ‘clownish’, visitors to the Netherlands described how the local population liked to spend a lot of time sitting in taverns drinking, making merry and telling jokes. The importance of humour is reflected in the many hilarious theatrical performances and number of books of jests published in large numbers in the Golden Age – at least twenty-five joke books were reprinted more than seventy times.
Jokes were important in every social class and considered to be an important component of well-educated courtiers, merchants and peasants alike. In the Hoofsche Welleventheid (a book of etiquette from 1677), humour was noted to ‘command respect in distinguished circles and be pleasant in any company’. Humour was not only ‘men’s business’, and cheerful women (who did not laugh too heartily and show their teeth) were encouraged. Further, laughter was considered to be beneficial to health and was even prescribed by physicians to ‘invigorate the body’.
Not surprisingly, humour became a feature of art and, in researching the Haarlem exhibition, the curators found more than two and a half thousand humorous paintings while searching image files at the Netherlands Institute for Art History. Sometimes, the joke was the main subject, but often humour was included in otherwise serious works as a side detail.
In the 16th century, rustic life, proverbs and fantastical creations such as animals dressed as people had featured prominently in funny scenes which were increasingly inspired by everyday life. Antwerp-based painter Pieter Bruegel was especially revered for his ability to capture the industry and revelry of the peasants. Bruegel was a formative influence on Dutch Golden Age painting being one of the first artists to emerge when religious themes had ceased to be the natural subject matter of painting.
With the passage of time, artists opted for comic situations taken directly from their own social stratum and daily life, and images of mischievous children, dissipated dandies, and amorous (mis)adventures became commonplace. A commentator, Samuel van Hoogstraten, wrote that the ‘sense of recognition’ and the public’s ability to ‘know the protagonists’ was crucial to the comic effect of the art.
In his essay De regte bootsemakery (or painting good jokes), Elmer Koflin looks at what ingredients made paintings funny at this time. He concludes that artists had to be able to convey not just humorous real-world situations but the whole gamut of human emotions. Furthermore, comic situations had to come across naturally and convincingly and this called for great wit, perceptive observation, and true empathy on the part of the artist. In other words, comic painters could easily make serious works, whereas serious painters could find it very hard to make funny ones. (I believe that the same ‘formula’ is true of the best stand-up comedians today. I was reminded of the line by Peter O’Toole’s character in the film ‘My Favourite Year’ – ‘Dying is Easy. Comedy is Hard’).
As well as the depiction of contemporary life, other humorous works employed ‘visual deception’ (trompe l’oeil paintings) or the autobiographical inclusion of the artists taking on comical roles in their own creations. It was well-recognised that humorous art was eagerly sought after and paid well, whereas other art was ‘slow to sell’.
It is interesting to note that painters who made a specialty of comic art had significant connections with the city of Haarlem. Apart from Frans and Dirck Hals, Adriaen Brouwer, Adriaen and Isaack van Ostade, and Jan Steen (whose works are represented in the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria), all spent considerable periods of time there. Mariët Westermann, in her essay ‘LOL from Bruegel to Brakenburgh: Changing Perspectives on Humour in Seventeenth Century Art, suggests that Haarlem’s prominence resulted from skilled Protestant exiles abandoning Antwerp – and its association with Bruegel – but continuing the Bruegelian tradition in their new home.
Much of the humour in the art of this period is coarse and scatological with vulgar boorish scenes, debauchery and excreta or, alternatively, sexually suggestive with unbridled lust or unequal love being depicted. Human foibles, especially falling prey to the seven deadly sins, were also rich fodder. However, comical portrayals were required to be appropriate, and etiquette books and the clergy provided guidelines around acceptability. For example, mockery – particularly of disability, poverty or misfortune – was deemed absolutely inappropriate. Despite this, these guidelines were frequently ignored. Adriaen van Ostade and Jan Steen routinely portrayed the poor, the disabled, the hunchbacked and the cuckolded as laughing stocks.
The ‘Art of Laughter’ exhibition suggested a number of subtypes of Golden Age comic art including: ‘Comic Types’, ‘Dandies, Maids and Soldiers’, ‘Coarse Humour’, ‘Mischief’, ‘Love and Lust’, ‘Puns and Animal Satires’, ‘Illusions’ (or Trompe l’Oeil), and Autobiographical Jokes’. However, this ‘classification’ is arbitrary as many works contain several themes.
Examples of ‘Comic Types’ would include the caricatures by Jan van Vliet …
… as well as the ‘exemplars’ of vices by Adriaen Brouwer.
‘Coarse Humour’ is exemplified by the many rowdy scenes in taverns featuring carousing, gaming, dancing and smoking …
… as well as by the Pissing Horse by Dirck Stoop and the ‘urinating’ cow by Albert Cuyp. (It is interesting to note that a ‘pissing cow’ by animal painter Paulus Potter in 1650 was rejected by Princess Amalia of Solms as ‘too vulgar’ which suggests that the upper echelons of the nobility maintained a stricter sense of decorum than the lesser aristocracy and well-to-do bourgeoisie who avidly embraced the painter’s similar pictures).
‘Mischief’ is a frequent theme in Jan Steen’s works and well-shown in the matchmaking being undertaken in ‘The wedding party‘ where less eligible bachelors are introduced to reluctant younger girls by a stout and determined broker.
‘Love and Lust’ also feature in many works from Hendrick Goltzius and Cornelis Bega to Adriaen van Ostade and Jan Steen.
Steen’s frequent autobiographical inclusion of himself as observer, commentator and reveller, provided a direct link with his audience and encouraged both enjoyment of the foibles of others as well as a nudge and a wink to what might be happening behind closed doors.
Many aspects of the comic painting in the 17th century were very appealing. The frank acknowledgement of human needs and desires, the weakness of the spirit, and the ease of temptation, were an antidote to the ordered mercantile and sanctimonious world that surrounded the population. It is not surprising that art provided a release valve and allowed the people to ‘let their hair down’.
However, as the century progressed – and with the rise of classicism in the latter part of the 1600s – the debate around what was acceptable intensified. Around 1670, a group of writers and artists became more strident in their opposition to images which did not meet acceptable standards. Slowly, the coarse comic genre faded and artists toned down their more provocative depictions – moving instead toward subtler depictions of their social world.
Returning to the local Australian ‘comedy scene’, if we want to consider art from a humorous perspective then perhaps readers might consider a re-viewing of Hannah Gadsby’s ‘Renaissance Woman’ at: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrePJ4z2YahU4KwClbaUdYQ
I am indebted to the impressive catalogue for the exhibition – ‘The Art of Laughter’ – which provided much of the information for this post.
Michael – another totally absorbing and rewarding post. Many observations of humor one could add to a tour of the ‘Golden Age of Dutch Art’! thank you. x julie