Observing the world from afar

While I am watching the ‘world from afar’ I am reminded of gargoyles – those carved architectural fantastical forms that perch on the roofs of old buildings to prevent the eroding effect of rainwater.

The word ‘gargoyle’ comes from the French gargouille (originating in the Latin gurgulio) meaning gullet or throat. It is a rather onomatopoeic word as it does sound a bit like ‘gargling’ and one can almost hear the water pouring out from the gargoyle’s mouth.

While carved objects to divert water from buildings feature in ancient Egyptian architecture and ancient Greek temples- a particularly impressive version were the 39 lion-headed waterspouts on the 5^th century BCE Temple of Zeus – the term gargoyle is most often applied to medieval carvings. This is not surprising as the monster known as the Gargouille comes from a French legend of the mid 6^th century CE.

In the story, St Romanus, Bishop of Rouen and former chancellor of king Clotaire II, saved the country around Rouen from the ravages of the monster. Gargouille is described as similar to a dragon with wings, a long neck, and the ability to breathe fire. St Romanus captured the creature with either a crucifix, or the help of a condemned man, and took the monster back to Rouen where it was burned. However, the head and neck refused to burn (due to the tempering effect from fire-breathing) and were mounted on the walls of a new church to ward off evil spirits. As a prisoner was said to have aided St Romanus, on the saint’s feast day a prisoner was set free. This continued to happen until the French Revolution.

The earliest known medieval gargoyles appeared on Laon Cathedral (c. 1200) but there are many examples on medieval churches and cathedrals around Europe. Possibly the most famous is the creature atop Notre-Dame de Paris produced by the architect Eugéne Viollet-le-Duc for his restoration of the cathedral between 1843-1864. Viollet-le-Duc was an exceptional Gothic revival architect and was responsible for the restoration of many prominent medieval landmarks in France – particularly those which had been damaged or abandoned during the French Revolution. However, his restoration of Notre-Dame was not without controversy and is now being re-considered following the fire last year. Fortunately, the gargoyles escaped the fire unharmed (perhaps aided by St Romanus?).

In reality, although called a ‘gargoyle’, the creature on Notre-Dame is not actually  a waterspout and is more correctly termed a grotesque or chimera. Chimeras were first recorded in Homer’s ‘The Iliad’ and are monstrous fire-breathing hybrid creatures – usually depicted as like a lion with the head of a goat protruding from its back, and a tail that ended with a snake’s head. The Notre-Dame ‘gargoyle’ is known locally as Le Stryge – or ‘The Vampire’ – and appears to be more satanic in appearance.

As an emblem of Paris it is very famous and appears in a number of artworks. An early photograph by Charles Nègre from 1853 shows another French photographer, Henri Le Secq, observing Paris with Le Stryge. Nègre was a pioneering photographer who encouraged the use of photography as research for painting. The image of Le Stryge is a ‘calotype’ – an early process introduced by William Henry Fox Talbot in 1841 which used paper coated with silver iodide.

Henri Le Secq was both a painter and photographer and one of the five photographers to be involved in a project called ‘Missions Héliographiques’ which photographed landmarks and monuments around France so they could be restored. These images were then used by Viollet-le-Duc for his restoration works. The NGV has an image of Notre-Dame by Le Secq which may have been used in, or part of, the restoration by Viollet-le-Duc. A number of images by the photographers involved in the project were criticised on the basis of ‘portraying the buildings artistically and obscuring their need for restoration’!

One of the most popular images of Le Stryge is by the French engraver, Charles Méryon (1821-1868). Méryon is recognised as one of the most significant etchers in 19^th century France and the NGV has 25 works by him in the collection, including ‘The Vampire’.

Méryon was born in Paris to a French dancer mother and an English physician father. In his late teens he joined the French navy and with them he voyaged around the world in the 1840s. Méryon clearly enjoyed sketching and many of his early works are of ships and the coast of New Zealand. His art practice became increasingly important and he left the navy, having achieved the rank of lieutenant, to concentrate on art. On discovering he was colour blind, Méryon decided to devote himself to etching.

Méryon learned his technique from Eugène Bléry and initially made his living copying the work of Dutch etchers. Eventually he commenced doing original work (including images from his time in New Zealand, as above) but his most famous engravings are a series called ‘Eaux-fortes sur Paris’ executed between 1850 and 1854. There are twenty-two etchings in the ‘sur Paris’ series and they give ‘life’ to Paris in the mid 19^th century. Some of the images are of the splendour of the city, while others illustrate its misery and poverty.

Several of Méryon’s best ‘sur Paris’ works are in the NGV collection. The ‘Apse of Notre Dame’ is commonly held to be his masterpiece. The light and shade of the sky, riverbank and area under the bridge contrast brilliantly with the striking ‘fabric’ of the church. This work has been compared very favourably with Turner’s images of Gothic architecture. Other works like ‘The Mortuary’ allow the people depicted to tell the story.

Méryon’s aesthetics were often dictated by the paper which he used. In his more defined works, he printed on Hudelist paper from a mill in the north of France which had uniform smooth quality that was ideal for his sharp edges. His more gauzy works were printed on a softer felt-like Morel Lavenere paper which was highly absorbent.

The ‘views’ of Paris are the views of a poet and an artist. At the time he was making the engravings, Napoleon III was tearing down buildings to reconstruct the city with wide boulevards. One plate is devoted to verses that Méryon wrote that lament the life of Paris.

Unfortunately, Méryon’s life was extremely difficult both financially and with respect to his intimate relationships. Over time he became increasingly paranoid and subject to hallucinations. A few years after the completion of the Paris series he entered the asylum at Charenton. He died there on his second admission in 1868. The portrait we have on Méryon is by the engraver, Léopold Flameng, under which Méryon wrote that it represented him with ‘a grotesque visage’. Perhaps Méryon’s feeling of being ‘grotesque’ encouraged his disturbing image of Le Stryge.

The story of how Mèryon’s works entered the NGV is told in a fascinating essay titled ‘Prints of fortune: Hubert Herkomer’s 1891-92 etching purchases for the National Gallery of Victoria’ by Irena Zdanowicz in the NGV Art Journal 33: https://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/essay/prints-of-fortune-hubert-herkomers-1891-92-etching-purchases-for-the-national-gallery-of-victoria/

‘Le Stryge’ is not the only gargoyle in the NGV collection. ‘The Gargoyle’ (1900) by the American photographer Gertrude Käsebier is another reminder that today we need to have a broad view on what is happening in the world.