Regulus is an oil painting by English artist J. M. W. Turner, first painted in 1828, and overpainted during a varnishing day in 1837. It depicts the story of the Roman consul Marcus Atilius Regulus who was captured by Carthaginian forces and eventually executed after being blinded by the Sun. The scene is a landscape of either Rome or Carthage, with ships and buildings surrounding the ocean. The panting is dominated by the blinding white Sun in the center.
Regulus | |
---|---|
Artist | J. M. W. Turner |
Year | 1828 (overpainted c.1829 and 1837) |
Catalogue | 2011.6 |
Medium | Oil on canvas |
Dimensions | 89.5 cm × 123.8 cm (35.2 in × 48.7 in) |
Location | Tate Britain, London |
Turner originally painted and exhibited Regulus during a 1928 visit to Rome, after which it was transported back to England, where Turner lived. At some point during or after the shipping, the canvas was torn in the upper left section and was subsequently repaired and repainted. The painting would reside in Turner's Gallery until 1837, when it was overpainted during a varnishing day at the British Institution. The painting subsequently gained notoriety, inspiring two derivative paintings and two engravings. Regulus was a controversial work, leading to it being stabbed in 1863 by a homeless man named Walter Stephenson. It currently resides in the Tate Britain in London.
Background
editThe titular figure, Marcus Atilius Regulus was a Roman consul and general who served in the First Punic War. During the war he was captured by Carthaginian forces, before being sent to Rome to negotiate a prisoner exchange. Upon arrival, he instructed the Romans to refuse any prisoner exchange, knowing that he would be executed upon returning to Carthage. He refused to break his parole and returned to the enemy city,[1] after which his exact fate is unknown. Accounts by ancient historians tend to agree that Regulus was tortured by having his eyelids removed or sewn open, before he was forced to stare at the Sun, leading to blindness. Various historians add details, such as Gaius Sempronius Tuditanus stating Regulus died of sleep deprivation,[2] or others claiming that he was placed in a barrel of sharpened nails.[3]
While not common, Regulus served as recognisable subject for many painters during Turners life. Notable examples include Salvator Rosa's Death of Regulus and Benjamin West's The Departure of Regulus. These depictions, centering on the figure of Regulus, depict him as brave, patriotic hero, promoting ideas of aristocratic masculinity.[4]
Oh! powerful beings, hail! whose stubborn soul
Even o'er itself to urge even (?) [sic] self-control.
Thus Regulus, whom every torture did await,
Denied himself admittance at the gate
Because a captive to proud Carthage power,
But his fierce (?) [sic] soul would not the Romans lower.
Not wife or children dear, or self, could hold
A moment's parley,—love made him bold,
Love of his country; for not aught beside
He loved,—but for that love he died.
—J. M. W. Turner's verse on Regulus[5]
There were many ways which Turner likely learned about Regulus. Details in Turner's writings on Regulus indicated he had learned certain elements through the Roman Poet Horace. James Thompson, a poet who significantly influenced Turner's writing alluded to Regulus in his poetry series The Seasons. However, the most descriptive source Turner likely had on Regulus was Oliver Goldsmith's Roman History, in which the torture of Regulus is vividly described. Inside the cover of his 1786 edition copy, Turner wrote the words "Regulus Returns", indicating his interest in the figure.[6] Turner would dedicate a verse to Regulus's patriotism in a 1811 poem he wrote to accompany George Cooke's Southern Coast engravings.[7][a]
History
editIn Rome
editTurner began to paint Regulus during a 1828 visit to Rome.[10][11] Turner began work on about nine other paintings, but only four were finished during the trip, Regulus, View of Orvieto, Palestrina and Vision of Medea.[12] Of these four, Regulus was likely the first to be completed, Turner quipping that it was made to stop the "gabbling" of his peers interested in his activities.[13] In late December 1828, Turner hosted a small exhibition in the Palazzo Trulli, containing three of his finished paintings, Regulus, Orvieto, and Medea. Due to difficulties in sourcing frames for the paintings, they were displayed by nailing yellow rope around the edges of each canvas.[14]
The exhibition revived approximately 1000 visitors, many being French and German artists with conservative opinions on paint application.[15] According to Charles Lock Eastlake, a friend of Turner present at the exhibition, the audience levied significant critiques at the paintings, focusing on defects in the paintings, and perceived resemblances to the works of Claude Lorrain.[12] One refrain heard during the exhibition was the old Latin phrase "Caccatum non est pictum" (lit. It's shit; it's not painting!)[15]
In England
editIn January 1829, Turner returned to London, opting to ship his paintings back separately, insured for 500 guineas. While he hoped they would arrive early enough to be shown in the 1829 exhibition of the Royal Academy of Arts, they arrived three months after the Royal Academy opened, on 20 July.[16][17] At some point before 1837, Regulus was severely damaged in the upper left of the canvas. While Turner noted in a letter to William Linton that all of his paintings had arrived safely, it is possible that Regulus was damaged on the return trip, and Turner had not comprehensibly checked his canvases. This theory is supported by the fact Regulus was not shown for years after its move to London, while the other Italian paintings such as Orvieto and Palestrina were exhibited soon after their arrival. It is also possible Regulus was damaged in London for any number of reasons, such as falling on furniture.[18] The damage constituted a large tear in the upper left corner of the painting, which covered much of the sky. The tear was mended through a relining, possibly done by William Redmore Bigg, and light stitching. A quarter of the canvas, constituting mostly sky, was completely repainted to hide the damage.[18] An additional tear can be found running vertically just right of the painting's center, directly in the middle of the sun. This tear was also stitched shut, and hidden with paint.[19]
On 28 January 1837, the British Institution hosted its annual varnishing day, an event where artists would varnish finalised paintings in front of public audiences. Turner entered Regulus for the event, an unusual choice given that Turner seemed to view the British Institution as a place to sell unwanted paintings, and Turner had already put significant effort into repairing the canvas. It is possible that he wanted to display the painting to demonstrate how the principles of Claude could be modernised. Its also likely that since the premises of the Royal Academy of Arts had been moved from Somerset House to Trafalgar Square, he hoped to use larger paintings to grab the attention of an increased crowd, a task for which the relatively small Regulus was unfit for.[20]
While Turner was known for often making extreme modifications to his paintings, especially on varnishing days, Regulus is the only case which has either a written or visual description. The English artist John Gilbert observed the event, which he described in a letter to Director of the National Portrait Gallery George Scharf 45 years later, in 1882. The letter was then published by Scharf's successor Lionel Cust, who published it in the 1895 edition of The Magazine of Art. Gilbert claims that Turner used two hog tools to drive flake-white paint into the center of the canvas to create a misty effect, following ruled lines he had drawn to mark the rays of the Sun. He also notes that at an angle, the Sun seemed to bulge out due to the amount of paint which had been added to the area.[21][22] Recent analysis has called many of these details into question. No material evidence can be found that guiding lines were drawn for the rays, and the amount of material around the sun was insufficient to have ever produced a protruding effect. However, the flake-white paint described by Gilbert was likely Megilp, which would have been able to produce the dramatic change in atmosphere Gilbert wrote of.[23]
Two other surviving depictions of the event exist, both paintings created during the varnishing day. The paintings were created by Norwegian artist Thomas Fearnly and English artist Charles West Cope, possibly as a lighthearted competition. Both depict Turner standing on a bench to paint, surrounded by materials and holding a fistful of brushes, as well as emphasising the brightness of Regulus compared to the surrounding scene. In Fearnly's painting, Regulus literally serves as a light source which casts shadows through the painting.[24]
Several years later,[b] the Scottish artist Daniel Wilson was tasked with engraving Regulus, after being invited to Turner's house and shown to the 'Inaccessible gallery' where the painting was held.[26] The task was difficult for the novice engraver, given the amount and intensity of light in the scene.[25] The copper plate used was just under half the size of the canvas, but the dimensions slightly varied from the original painting. To remedy this, Wilson trimmed the immediate top and bottom off, and extended the scene to add masts on the left side.[27]
Regulus remained in Turner's personal gallery until his death. Regulus' many repaintings and repairings made it particularly susceptible to the poor environmental conditions of the gallery, which included dust, roaming cats, and moisture. In 1856 the legal proceedings of the Turner Bequest were settled, and Regulus became one of the first 100 paintings moved to the National Gallery in London. On 24 November 1856 it was moved to the ground floor of the Marlborough House, and six months later was moved upstairs. In October 1859 keeper of the National Gallery Ralph Nicholson Wornum moved Regulus to the South Kensington Museum, where a small[c] engraving was made by Samuel Bradshaw. In October 1861 Regulus was moved to the 'Turner Room' in the National Gallery to comply with the terms of the Turner Bequest.[29]
Stabbing
editJust before 2:00 pm, on 16 December 1863, a poorly dressed man named Walter Stephenson entered the Turner room of the National Gallery. Stephenson worked as either an accountant,[26] an author, a clerk or a lithographic writer, though regardless of profession he was known to be homeless and without family or friends. Around 2:00 pm, curator Edmund Paine noticed that Stephenson was acting erratically around Regulus, and reported him to Eleazer Dennin, the inspector of police for the National Gallery.[29] Shortly thereafter, Stephenson realised he was being watched and rested for two hours. Paine reentered the gallery shortly before 4:00 pm, soon after which Stephenson produced a penknife and stabbed the painting five times, one of which pierced the canvas. Stephenson was apprehended on the spot, and handed over his knife with paint still on the blade. Dennin claimed that when interrogated, "he replied, 'I was very much excited. The misty state of the picture and the dislike I had for the man made me do it.'"[26][29]
Stephenson was subsequently taken into custody, and charged with "wilful damage to one of Turner's pictures in the National Gallery." He was tried on 4 January 1864 in Clerkenwell, where he pleaded guilty to the charge. On 18 January 1864 he was sentenced to six months of hard labour.[26] The painting restorer George Morrill was hired on 28 January to reline Regulus, a task which he completed by 9 February. On 19 February, Charles Buttery was hired to repair for eight guineas. He completed this work quickly, and by 1 April Regulus was returned to the National Gallery.[30]
In 1984 a visitor poked the center of Regulus's canvas, causing several fragments of paint to fall off the canvas. These flakes were retrieved from the floor, and reattached to the canvas. Since 1960, Regulus has had to be retouched four times due to flaking and cracking paint.[30]
Reception and criticism
editRegulus was highly controversial during and well after Turner's life, drawing significant critique during its initial exhibition. It did however find support. Charles Lock Eastlake described the painting as "more Italian than Italy itself", and Herman Melville bought an engraving of Bradshaw's Regulus Leaving Carthage that had been published for The Turner Gallery.[12][31] During its 1837 exhibition, a writer for The Spectator described it as gorgeous, though the intensity of the light made them "wish the sun were out of the picture". They also notably compare the painting to the works of Claude.[32]
John Ruskin, one of Turner's most prominent supporters despised Regulus. He considered it a "wicked relapse into the old rivalry with Claude", believing it both imitated and challenged the works of Claude. He proposed that the painting be displayed in a cell as an object of mockery and sin. This intense dislike for Regulus would persist for Ruskin's entire life, with Ruskin frequently commenting on its flaws in various letters, notes, and books.[33]
Analysis
editSeveral key elements of the painting, including the setting and figures have been subject to much debate. During the trial of Walter Stephenson, the painting was referred to by court officials and curators as Regulus Leaving Rome, implying that the painting depicts Regulus leaving to be executed in Carthage. This is supported by the fact that Turner's main source on Regulus, Oliver Goldsmith's Roman History, focuses on Regulus' final departure from Rome. However, the titles of Wilson's and Bradshaw's engravings, the latter overseen by Turner himself, seem to imply that the scene takes place in Carthage, before Regulus leaves to Rome.[34]
The actual location of Regulus himself is also up to interpretation. Regulus is sometimes identified as a small white figure to the right descending a staircase,[25] though the extremely small size of the figure left has left many commentators unable to identify the subject.[35] John Gage posited that Regulus was not literally in the painting, the image instead being the perspective of Regulus while he was being blinded.[36][37] This is supported by Turner's focus on placing the spectator as the protagonist in his art about the sublime.[38] However, this analysis has met opposition, such as from Turner scholar Andrew Wilton, who believes this framing would have been extremely unorthodox for the time. Wilton also notes that the literalistic titles of the engravings imply that Turner intended a more traditional perspective.[35] Beaumont posited a third analysis of both the location and figure of Regulus. He believes that the geographic and temporal vagueness of Regulus implies the painting is not a single moment, but a representation of Regulus' entire life, Turner consciously painting it to be both the view of Regulus, and a depiction of Regulus.[37]
Influences
editRegulus is speculated to have been influenced by several other paintings, and may have been drawn on in Turner's later work. In 1820 during an earlier trip to Italy, Turner studied and transcribed Claude's Seaport with the Villa Medici while working in the Uffizi. The two paintings have very similar qualities, both mixing commercial ships and buildings around a port.[39] Turner may have also drawn on Dido Directing the Equipment of the Fleet, one of his earlier landscapes set in the ancient Mediterranean.[3] A similar theory by J. Hillis Miller proposes that the oil sketch Claudian Harbour Scene, commonly believed to be a preliminary sketch for Dido Directing the Equipment of the Fleet, may actually have been preparation for Regulus. He speculates that the hooded figure in Claudian Harbour Scene may be Regulus.[40] Regulus has also been compared to Turner's 1833 painting Fontainebleau, which depicts Napoleon standing atop a staircase, set far back in the painting. This closely resembles the figure of Regulus in the traditional understanding of Regulus' perspective. This is supported by Turner's outlook on the two subjects, as he understood both men to be "tragic heroes".[25]
See also
editNotes
edit- ^ While John Gage identifies this poem as The Southern Coast, the same title as the accompanying engraving collection,[8] the sources he references only identifies the verses as extracts from an unnamed fragment of writing.[9]
- ^ The engraving is marked with the year 1840, and some sources place this as the year of creation,[25] but others place the date at 1838.[26]
- ^ The copper plate Bradsaw engraved on was approximately a quarter the size of the plate Wilson engraved on, which itself was half the size of the original canvas.[28]
References
edit- ^ Finley 1999, p. 96-97.
- ^ Beaumont 2020, p. 1.
- ^ a b Finley 1999, p. 97.
- ^ Beaumont 2020, p. 14.
- ^ Thornbury 1862, p. 213.
- ^ Beaumont 2020, p. 1-2.
- ^ Gage 1969, p. 135, 143.
- ^ Gage 1969, p. 135.
- ^ Thornbury 1862, p. 204.
- ^ Gage 1969, p. 169.
- ^ Powell 1987, p. 98.
- ^ a b c Finley 1999, p. 194.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 111-112.
- ^ Powell 1987, p. 141-142.
- ^ a b Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 112.
- ^ Powell 1987, p. 166.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 113.
- ^ a b Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 113-114.
- ^ Hellen 2014, p. 52.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 114.
- ^ Cust 1895, p. 248-249.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 115-116.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 116-117.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 115.
- ^ a b c d Finley 1999, p. 98.
- ^ a b c d e Beaumont 2020, p. 13.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 118.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 1189-120.
- ^ a b c Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 120.
- ^ a b Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 121.
- ^ Wallace 1992, p. 4, 50.
- ^ The Spectator 1837, p. 140.
- ^ Beaumont 2020, p. 13-15.
- ^ Beaumont 2020, p. 16-17.
- ^ a b Wilton 1981, p. 142-143.
- ^ Gage 1969, p. 143.
- ^ a b Beaumont 2020, p. 22.
- ^ Holcomb 1981, p. 160.
- ^ Townsend, Hellen & Warrell 2017, p. 111.
- ^ Miller 1992, p. 134.
Bibliography
editBooks
edit- Finley, Gerald (1999). Angel in the Sun: Turner's Vision of History. McGill-Queen's University Press. ISBN 978-0-773-56731-3.
- Gage, John (1969). Colour in Turner: Poetry and Truth. London: Studio Vista. ISBN 978-0-289-79560-6.
- Miller, J. Hillis (1992). Illustration. Essays in art and culture. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. ISBN 978-0-674-44357-0.
- Powell, Cecilia (1987). Turner in the South: Rome, Naples, Florence. New Haven: Yale University Press. ISBN 978-0-300-03870-5.
- Thornbury, Walter (1862). The Life of J. M. W. Turner (2 ed.). London: Ward Lock Reprints.
- Townsend, Joyce; Hellen, Rebecca; Warrell, Ian (2017). "Turner's Regulus: a tale of violence, abuse and accident, illuminated by technical study". In Townsend, Joyce; Vandivere, Abbie (eds.). Studying the European Visual Arts 1800-1850: Paintings, Sculpture, Interiors and Art. London: Archetype Publications. ISBN 978-1-909492-52-3.
- Wallace, Robert (1992). Melville & Turner: Spheres of Love and Fright. Athens: University of Georgia Press. ISBN 978-0-8203-1366-5.
- Wilton, Andrew (1981). Turner and the Sublime. London: University of Chicago Press. ISBN 978-0-226-06189-4.
Journals
edit- Beaumont, Matthew (2020). "Reason Dazzled: The All-Seeing and the Unseeing in Turner's Regulus". British Art Studies (15). doi:10.17658/issn.2058-5462/issue-15/mbeaumont. ISSN 2058-5462.
- Hellen, Rebecca (2014). "'Three Days or more...': Turner's Varnishing Day practice and the physical evidence". The British Art Journal. 15 (2): 47–53. ISSN 1467-2006. JSTOR 43492113.
- Holcomb, Adele M. (1981). "Turner and the Sublime". RACAR: Revue d'art canadienne / Canadian Art Review. 8 (2): 157–162. doi:10.7202/1075006ar. ISSN 0315-9906. JSTOR 42630258.
Newspapers and Magazines
edit- Cust, Lionel (1895). "The Portraits of J. M. W. Turner, R.A." The Magazine of Art. Open Court Publishing Co. pp. 245–251.
- "Modern Pictures at the British Institution". The Spectator. 11 February 1837.