Watteau at the Royal Academy

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Stephen Somerville visits ‘Watteau: The Drawings’ at the Royal Academy, London

Watteau’s individual and distinctive fêtes galantes were his trademark works, eagerly sought after and collected. These fanciful representations of the elegant and the privileged, sometimes combined with characters taken from the Comédie Italienne, are shown picnicking, flirting and singing in idealized landscape settings. The wonderful exhibition at the Royal Academy’s Sackler Galleries (12 March-5 June 2011),  ‘Watteau: The Drawings’, is a remarkable ensemble of some of the very best of his graphic work.

Watteau’s  biographical details are extraordinarily elusive, especially considering how important and influential an artist he was.  His prodigious output defies his tragically short life, which was consumed by tuberculosis.  He destroyed many of his paintings and drawings towards the end of his life, which indicates that the drawings must have existed in many hundreds if not thousands.

Was he a painter who used his drawings as aids to his compositions, or was he a draughtsman who painted in order to earn his living and conform to popular tastes and the prerequisites of the French Academic authorities?  On balance, it would appear that he was certainly happier drawing. The RA show is almost too indulgent; showing so many beautiful drawings that in many instances go far beyond just preparatory designs for his paintings. They are finished works of art in themselves.

Watteau worked outside the French Academic tradition followed by artists such as Coypel and Le Brun.  The withdrawal of the Royal licence and banishment from France of the Comédie Italienne in 1697 meant that these itinerant performers had to adapt their skills at fairs and parades.  These immensely popular events (to the cost of the official Comédie Francais)  provided a licentious and amusing entertainment, to the delight of both members of the court and the populace. In general, Watteau eagerly drew inspiration from these sources, mingling aristocrats and entertainers in pleasurable and suggestive poses in idealized landscape settings.

As a personality, Watteau is somewhat elusive; you would have thought it would be possible to get an insight from his drawings; but even here he does not give any clues. No relationships with women or men are recorded, and near the end of his short life he destroyed many of his ‘erotic’ drawings. Just how far these went beyond the few that are extant can only be imagined. In this exhibition there are a few semi nudes or erotic poses but nothing is taken too far and they are only suggestive.

It is this lack of engagement or real empathy with nearly all his figure studies that is so apparent and, as with his paintings, every detail or study is an element, like pieces that form a sophisticated jigsaw puzzle.  One of the rare occasions when Watteau does seem to engage with his subjects is in the magnificent study of the  Standing Savoyard  (no. 27) and a drawing of a friend  Antoine de la Rogas  (no. 34).

Watteau’s influences were taken from the Flemish painters such as Adam van der Meulen, Wourwerman and Teniers – all of which were in a generation before  so revered in Paris and in particular by the French court.

Red chalk or sanguine (so called as its colour resembles blood) dominates the work shown here. This sensuous and luxurious medium gives an artist an almost unfair advantage, as it is so visually seductive. Of course, many drawings combine black chalk and in certain cases white heightening is added to combine in Watteau's  speciality – ‘Trois crayons’.  The red chalk is a clay coloured by iron oxide and varies form light red to a dark, almost purple, (burnt) red which is obtained by treating the chalk with nitric acid

The catalogue is excellent, with its oblong/landscape format with all exhibited works reproduced in colour. The essays are a delight, and I enjoyed Pierre Rosenberg’s introduction, informative and lively, free of art historical hyperbole.  Nonetheless,  I have some concerns regarding reproductions.  For instance no. 27,  The Standing Savoyard,  is too dull and the red chalk is not vibrant enough, likewise no. 55; but no. 89 is spot on. 

A rare treat are the catalogue notes to the individual entries, which  give subjective and imaginative opinions and observations.  I do take issue, however, with M. Prat’s observations on no. 81  Woman Wearing a Mantle. Prat says the air is funereal, and that her hands are detached and seem to have been just placed there, possibly later. It does not say this to me. In fact, it is rare among Watteau’s oeuvre, as she looks directly at the artist. She has somewhat of a ‘come hither’ look.  The red chalk eyes and hands do stand out in contrast to the black chalk, but as the red chalk is so much more durable and the black chalk so much more fugitive,  it may be that over time the contrast has eroded and formed a false visual relationship.

Of wide interest, the exhibition and catalogue are exceptional; and coupled with the parallel Wallace Collection exhibitions of Watteau and Jean de Jullienne (also on till 5 June) , provide a feast for all those Francophiles and fans of French 18^th-century art.

Antoine Watteau: The Drawings  by Pierre Rosenberg and Louis-Antoine Prat with a contribution by Martin Eidelberg is published by Royal Academy Publications, 2011, £35 (hardback), £22.95 (paperback), 192 pp., 116 colour/14 mono illus. ISBN 978-1-905711-71-0 (paperback), 978-1-905711-70-3 (hardback). Also available in the USA from Harry N.  Abrams Inc. New York.