Goya III: Witches in the Woods and on the Walls

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.

Witches in the Woods and on the Walls

Goya’s body of work is one heavily influenced by his religious background, and throughout we are able to witness this relationship develop throughout his lifetime. From his unbound devotion to the church in his youth, to his growing disillusionment during the twilight years of Goya’s life. A liberalist in his later years, it was thought that Goya became increasingly dissatisfied by the church's involvement in the state of Spain, even more so after the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy and Catholic hierarchy in 1814. This event was so significant to Goya that many historians believe that it was a prime motivator for his self-isolation in “Quinta del Sordo.” Goya’s turn coincided with his interest in exploring the taboo side of religion, depicting symbols of satanism and dark themes throughout his works while also critiquing the Catholic religious institution.

Goya, Francisco. Witches’ Flight. 1798.

These ideas are found in works that even precede his, “Black Painting,” series and solitude, mainly during his stay in Osuna, where he made works such as the 1798 Witches’ Flight, that use satanic and gruesome imagery in an effort to parody superstitious rituals made in the name of religious ceremonies. On the surface, the portrait is filled with iconography that would be deemed as taboo by religious viewers, from the presence of female nudity to the depiction of the witches flying, an action that is commonly associated with unholy black magic. However, on closer inspection, Goya’s canvas also contains references that hidden beneath the surface. For example, the hats that the witches sport, for example, painted in a way to reflect both the iconography of the traditional corozas worn by members of the Spanish Inquisition and the typical Christian mitres commonly worn by popes and bishops, directly drawing a parallel between the violence caused by the tribunal and the Catholic Church. The presence of the donkey in the background cements this reading, being a common symbol for ignorance, with it’s presence almost mocking these traditional pious customs. As a result, the painting comes off more as a ridicule of these religious practices, while also directly tying them to evil and tragedy.

It is interesting how these images are used to a similar effect decades later, with Robert Egger’s 2015 film, The Witch , making strong use of imagery emblematic of Goya’s paintings in a similar fashion, connecting the Puritan Christian families' practices to the evil witches that inhabit the woods surrounding them. The final scene, in which Thomasin gives into Black Philip’s words and joins the Black Sabbath, uses imagery eerily similar to Goya’s paintings. Both depict these witches flying above ground around a subject. However, Egger’s use of framing directly draws similarities to a shot earlier in the scene, that being the scene where the entire family say Grace around a table. Many elements are shared between both shots, such as the use of ambient backlighting, using an over the shoulder shot angle, and having the character of Thomasin centre frame. This comparison between a religious group and evil is directly similar to Goya’s works. However, in other points, Egger’s actually subverts these ideas of icons of sin depicted in Goya’s paintings into symbols of freedom. The presence of female nudity and flying is one such point. Whereas Goya’s original work uses the existence of such ideas to shock audiences with such taboo depictions, further driving this sense of devilishness into his portrait, Egger’s instead makes these representations a point of Thomasin’s freedom, with the nudity directly opposing the restrictive and heavily layered clothes in order to keep her modest appearance, a common requirement for women in the Puritan church. The flying works to a similar effect, with the director transforming the action to one of freedom when taken into the context of the film, where Thomasin’s father, William, and his extreme restriction on where is family is allowed to physically move in their new location, forbidding them to go into the deeper forest, is now rebelled through the action of flying, allowing Thomasin to, quite literally, go anywhere she desires. In turn, one could argue that Egger’s takes many of Goya’s icons and actions of sin, using them either to draw similar points to the painter’s original works, or to outwardly transform them into a newer, more positive symbol.

Goya, Francisco. Witches Sabbath (The Great He-Goat). 1819 - 1823.

These ideas culminate in the image of the black goat and, in particular, how Goya makes two very differing interpretations of the symbol, and how Egger transforms one such interpretation onto film. Images of goats themselves have become a continental European trope of depicting evil and, in circles of Christianity, a manifestation of the devil himself. Goya centres the black goat in two of his works, the earlier Witches’ Sabbath, and the later, “Black Paintings," reinterpretation, Witches Sabbath (The Great He-Goat). While both are protests of the superstitious sentiment around religion at the time, particularly around the Spanish Inquisition and the atrocities they caused such as the Basque Witch Trials, both tend to do it in contrary ways. The early painting is brighter, using colours in a way that seems somewhat bright in spite of the heavy subject matter. It inverts many witchcraft symbols that have become Christian iconography, such as the goat raising his left hoof rather than his right, with many interpreting this as a metaphor for the church's condemnation of liberals who argued for scientific, social and religious progression. As a result, the painting comes off somewhat light-hearted, with the use of a colourful landscape making this portrait seem more fantastical than horrific. The later painting, however, seems more outwardly sinister, the goat being merely a silhouette and the faces of the onlookers almost melting off the canvas. There is also a strong use of chiaroscuro, giving the devilish figure a sense of royalty, being the only figure truly covered in shadow, in comparison to the rest of the other occupants of the canvas who comes off as fearful of him, cowering in the presence of his power. In turn, the resulting painting seems more sinister, no longer having this mocking fantastical elements in order to mock, but instead coming off as warning of the Catholic churches' evils.

Robert Eggers. The VVitch. Black Philip Rears the Twins.

Egger’s film seems to take more inspiration from the later, “Black Painting,” interpretation, with a sense of royalty and darkness that surrounds the character of Black Phillip, the family's goat who later becomes the devil reincarnate. The best portrayal of this is near the end of the film during the scene where Black Philip gives Thomasin the, “live deliciously,” speech. Throughout, there is a constant need to keep Black Philip’s human form covered in shadow, either through the use of a almost completely black costume and a long brim hat, keep his face low down, or Egger’s use of chiaroscuro lighting coming from the left side of the frame, keeping Black Philip, who inhabits the opposite side, completely in dark. His perception of royalty is one that comes from both the framing throughout the film and the dialogue that surrounds the character. For the framing, Black Philip is constantly shown to either be higher in terms of blocking of the characters, such as when he rears the twins, or taking up a large portion of the centre of the frame, such as when he is resting in the stable. Consequently, it gives Black Philip this air of importance to him, pushing aside the other characters from his own spotlight. The twin rhyme about Black Philip reinforces this, with the children using a semantic field of royalty when describing him, picturing the goat as if a, “crown grows out his head,” and giving the title of, “king-of sky and land.” Resultantly, Egger’s interpretation of the traditional religious symbols seems more in line with the darker tone the Goya takes in his, “Black Painting,” using many techniques that are similar, if not the exact same, to make the devil seem more of omnipotent threat rather than a fantastical beast as seen in Goya’s earlier works.

Robert Eggers. The VVitch. Live Deliciously.

With these ideas in mind, one can easily see the impact that Goya's shaping of certain symbols into a protest against religious indictment, represents the church's evils through images of witches and satan himself. Moreover, we are also able to witness the reimagining and translation of these symbols onto the screen through Egger's film, using the frames blocking to recreate some of Goya's portraits onto the screen all while using their meanings to further themes that explore the evils of the Church.

by Fionn Morris, July 2022.