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James Gillray's biting political etchings
Great British satirist cartoonist created the genre lampooning the rich, royal and famousBy Donna Lypchuk
James Gillray, the eighteenth century British caricaturist, is not only one of the world's greatest satirists, he practically created the genre of the political cartoon. His hilarious etchings, 30 of which are now on display at the Art Gallery of Ontario, lampoon the foibles of Georgian society, and in particular, its apparently bumbling, petty, greedy leader - King George. Perhaps one of the most savage and pre-eminent social critics in the world, Gillray's work was said to have inspired the work of George Orwell and Michael Heseltine - the creator of Spitting Image, the BBC television show that mocks members of the Royal family.
Gillray, like Jonathan Swift before him and Charles Dickens after him, saw everything through a jaded eye that never failed to highlight the objectionable moral characteristics of the rich and famous of the day. A stroll through the exhibition at the AGO definitely shows how Gillray absolutely took no prisoners in his descriptions of war, taxes, death, society, politics, serfdom and the follies of the regency.
This exhibition does not include Gillray's most famous works, such as his scandalous, bawdy cartoon of a buffoon wearing large buckled shoes on top of a lady wearing delicate pointed slippers (one of the very first publicly printed depictions of sexual intercourse). However, there is a book that contains "The Plumb-Pudding in Danger - or State Epicures Taking un petit souper," which shows Prime Minister Pitt sitting at a table with Napoleon, carving a world in the form of a plum pudding into slices with their swords.
This show does not contain the drawing master's most savage works, but it does give you an idea of the famous draughtsman's irreverent sense of humour. For instance, an etching called "The Fall of Icarus" shows the bare butt of a prominent citizen falling from grace onto a spike protruding from the ground that supposedly represents the money spike of all of the cash he has stolen from the government.
The AGO is mainly filled with images of a rotund, pot-bellied King George indulging in all acts of pomp and circumstance accompanied by a cast of hump-backed, squat, hook-nosed and pigeon-toed characters. Some of the cartoons take the form of portraits, such as "The Voluptuary Under the Horrors of Digestion" which shows a bloated King picking his teeth after digesting one of his lavish banquets. None of Gillray's images can actually be described as kind, but perhaps one of the most savage is "The Possessed Pigs" which shows George III chasing the members of his government off a cliff and into the sea.
Other works are more sombre, depicting the misery of the "liberated" France after the death of Louis XIV. Contrasting panels show stick-thin Frenchmen munching on onions for dinner while the rich English carve into their sides of roast beef. "The Zenith of French Glory" is a masterwork that shows a Paris burning to the ground with priests hung by their necks. Another image features an overweight Charlotte Corday, boasting about her claim to fame as the murderer of Jean-Paul Marat before an impressed French court. You have to remember that these descriptive and powerful images were created in the days before photography was used to describe world events, and what is startling about them is their ability to convey so much information in one panel. Back then, when so many were illiterate, a picture really was worth a thousand words.
Gillray appealed, of course, to public opinion and was a pioneer in doing so: for he knew that his exposure of abuses and follies (and not merely political ones) would help limit them. Back then, public criticism was thus essential to public progress, and in some ways he had more power than the throne. He was known to single-handedly ruin the careers of several prominent citizens simply with a stroke of his pen. Gillray's cartoons ridiculed kings, priests, doctors, society figures and statesmen with no mercy, picturing them in the act of relieving themselves, groping bosoms and wallowing in self-indulgence.
What is most astounding about the exhibition is that it reminds us of the original purpose and power of the press, which was to expose corruption and appeal to higher ideals. Gillray lived in a world where there was such a thing as an independent press that did not have to pander to advertising giants and pressure from the government.
Behind Gillray's critical drawings was an appeal for utopia and a humanitarianism that was way ahead of its time and his drawing set the stage for freedom of the press in the post-Napoleonic era. Gillray's greatness was more than artistic: he proved by example that public opinion could be mobilized for the betterment of society, and that social criticism could be fierce and uncompromising yet also good-natured and hilarious at the same time.
James Gillray's The Last Laugh shows at the Art Gallery of Ontario, 317 Dundas St. West, until October 12. For more information call 416.979.6648.
Publication Date: 2003-06-22
Story Location: http://tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=2855
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