by Fionn Morris.
Francsico Goya is an artist who continues to inspire generations onwards, with some of his more prominent admirers in the Spanish art community, Pablo Picasso and Salvador Dali, becoming icons in their own right. However, there is a clear dichotomy in his works, with his earlier works as a court painter, those being his earlier works of Spanish arisostorcy and Rocco-styled tapestry paintings, being popular within the contemporary lifetime of Goya. This would take a turn during Goya’s later years of 1819 to 1823, where isolated within the walls of “Quinta del Sordo,” (The Deaf Man’s House) Goya’s fears of the political atmosphere of Spain, ageing body and deteriorating mental health were displayed upon the walls of the villa. Although originally never meant to be seen by the public, this collection of fourteen painting’s, posthumously named the “Black Paintings,” are now some of the artist's most recognized works. And it is this collection that can be seen throughout many works of cinema, from the German Expressionist to modern day independent horror films, there are many points of comparison that the directors have taken from Goya’s brush strokes.
Goya, during his period in Quinta Del Sordo, was constantly paranoid. Fearful of subjects that range from the turbulent political landscape, to the doubt that plagued his commitment to his Catholic beliefs. However, it seemed to be his own body, becoming physically weaker in his older age, that seemed to draw the most fright from the artist. During the time before and during Goya’s stay at Quinta Del Sordo, Goya had become almost entirely reliant on his maid, Leocadia Weiss. However, this fright of his own situation was one that been persistent for a while, with Goya noticing the effects of his ageing body as almost two decades before living in the infamous house, as he fell dangerously ill during a 1972 trip to Seville, suffering from a range of issues such as tinnitus, dizziness, sight problems and paresis in the right arm. His mental health wasn’t much better, as this was soon followed by a general state of depression, hallucinations and weight loss. When Goya finally returned to Madrid the next year, he had become almost entirely deaf, a fact that would remain. It was fair to say that Goya was more than aware of his own deteriorating condition, a fact he dreaded.
Goya, Francisco. Two Old Ones Eating Soup. 1819 - 1823.
Goya translated this fear into his artwork, namely the people who occupy the paintings, and their morphed faces becoming morbid in their appearance. Just looking at the piece Two Old Ones Eating Soup (1819 - 1823) immediately gives the viewer a look into Goya’s new twisted perspective through his collapsed mind. In spite of the innocence that the title might suggest, the portrait itself seems ambient dread, with the person on the right giving off the impression of a corpse, with their yellowish skin and skeletal body structure. The person on the left doesn’t seem to fare much better, looking almost cartoonish and hag like, their eyes protruding out their skulls. There are two possible interpretations for this work. The first is one related to the starved population of Spain during the, “Trienio Liberal,” as while the hag like character on the left eats gleefully, the character on the right becomes extremely thin, out of reach of the soup bowl. This could reflect the starving population, which were in clear need of support during the invasion by Napoleon's army during the period, all while the officials of Spain seemed to maintain their wealth, living lavishly while their citizen suffered. Another interpretation draws upon the elderly appearance of the couple, with these macabre depictions might be Goya’s own visualisation of old age itself, a rotting being that is seemingly melting off the canvas.
This sickly and grotesque interpretation of people is one consistent among the, “Black Paintings,” such as in Heads in a Landscape, (1819 - 1823) where the faces seemingly weld into one another, their bodies morphing into one being. But where this deterioration is most significant is in the painting, A Pilgrimage to San Isidro. (1819 - 1823) The painting itself is a presentation of an annual pilgrimage to San Idriso’s Hermitage of Madrid, but seems far off the joyful and celebratory description that one might expect. Instead, the painting is covered in a dingy colour palette, and the background seems almost vacant. However, what is most significant about this is the fact that this painting is a direct response to one of his earlier works, The Meadow of San Idriso, (1788) a depiction of the same event years before. The detailed environment, bright colours and overall a commitment to a sense of realism in spite of its blemishes contrasts greatly with the later piece. But it is the depiction of the people, in this sense, is where Goya’s darker themes become more apparent, as while the earlier works' characters seem beautiful, their faces glowing and joyful expressions. Goya’s later painting portrayed a stark difference to this charming interpretation, with the later on populated by sin, drunkards and wallowing faces, their bodies morphing into a singular blob in the centre of the canvas. The painting itself almost becomes a parody of the other work, with it becoming possibly the most remarkable depiction of Goya’s decomposing state of mind.
(left) Goya, Francisco. Heads in a Landscape. 1819 - 1823.
(top right) Goya, Francisco. A Pilgrimage to San Isidro. 1819 - 1823.
(bottom right) Goya, Francisco. The Meadow of San Isidro. 1788.
This idea of shifting focus from realism to a more interpretive portrayal is one that is inherent to the German Expressionist movement, with the majority of its films using cinematic techniques that both move away from authentic reality in exchange for an emotional response from the audience. No better is this idea introduced than in Robert Weine’s 1920 film, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Robert Weine, 1920) View on: IMDb. Lettrboxd. Wikipedia. . The film creates a world that is plagued by a gothic atmosphere. The sets are illogical, with sharp edges violently protruding from the background. The acting is overt, with their gestures and movements exaggerated throughout.
Robert Weine. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Cesare Wakes Up.
However, it is the costumes that draw the most interest, with the on screen characters having faces that tread the uncanny valley. Conrad Veidt’s character Cesare, for instance, is deathly thin, with its unique appearance allowing it to become the prominent centre of the foreground, while also morphing his body to blend with the sharp edges of the background. Werner Krauss titular character, Doctor Caligari, also seemed While there is a commonality to be drawn between the contorting bodies of both Goya and Weine, it is the makeup, and their grim appearances, where these similarities become more significant. Cesare’s skin is pale, with black painted bags under his eyes, making them seem almost hollow. Dr. Caligari, too, shares many of these features, with his skin also pale and his body an usual shape, having a hunched back and a large top hat. But, again, it is the makeup that becomes the main centre of the frame, with his eyes bulging out his skull, and a nose that is long and crooked.
Robert Weine. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Cesare’s Kidnapping.
While many of Goya’s pieces could be seen as an inspiration for these surrealist costumes, by returning to the first piece discussed, Two Old Ones Eating Soup, we can see a similar dynamic in Weine’s film. The skeletal and hag-like, retrospectively, are similar to Cesare and Dr. Caligari. Not just in their visual appearance, but also, their possible meanings behind underneath the paint and makeup. One could compare to the political undertones, with Goya’s critique of the, “Trienio Liberal,” being translated onto the screen as a general fear of elites, one made more apparent with the themes of authority and Cesare’s position as being quite literally controlled by Dr. Caligari throughout the film. Too, one could also see the commonality between Goya’s fear of ageing within Weine’s characters, as while Cesare’s features remind the viewer of that of a starving victim, Dr.Caligari’s crone styled make up almost fattens him. This inadvertently sets up a relationship similar to that of old fairy tales, the young hapless causality becoming ensnared by the elderly witches they feed off them, one similar to Goya’s own relationship with old age, and his growing fear of being consumed by it.
Robert Weine. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Caligari Hides from the Police.
This relationship between these two works, while not overt, seem directly inspired by one another, with similar gothic style being translated from Goya’s canvas to Weine’s camera. There are similarities between the deeper contextual meanings behind these visuals, from political critiques to general paranoia over growing old. It doesn’t seem a coincidence, therefore, that film essayist Lotte Esiner would go onto describe Weine’s work as a set of, “Goyaesque visions.”
by Fionn Morris, May 2022.
Eisner, Lotte. The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt. University of California Press. 1955.
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, (1920), Directed by R. Wiene, [Feature Film] Germany: UFA GmbH.
Goya, Francisco. Two Old Ones Eating Soup. 1819 - 1823. Museo Nacional del Prado. Madrid, Spain.
Goya, Francisco. Heads in a Landscape. 1819 - 1823. Museo Nacional del Prado. Madrid, Spain.
Goya, Francisco. A Pilgrimage to San Isidro. 1819 - 1823. Museo Nacional del Prado. Madrid, Spain.
Goya, Francisco. The Meadow of San Isidro on his Feast Day. 1788. Museo Nacional del Prado. Madrid, Spain.