Unveiling the Mysteries of Joseph Wright of Derby's Art: A Journey into Science, Skeletons, and a Suffocated Cockatoo
The enigmatic figure in the moonlit landscape, wielding a shovel, evokes a sense of foreboding. Is he a grave digger or an experimentalist? This intriguing scene is captured in one of Joseph Wright of Derby's paintings, a friend to the luminaries of the Lunar Society of Birmingham, whose scientific endeavors would later inspire Mary Shelley. But the man beside the foaming River Derwent is not engaged in macabre activities. Instead, he's performing an act that, by 21st-century standards, is equally nefarious: blocking a fox den to trap the foxes for the hunt. Perhaps Wright shares the author's compassion for foxes, as the painting, titled 'An Earthstopper on the Banks of the Derwent,' exudes a certain sinister charm. Yet, it's this very allure that captivates the viewer, with its hypnotic beauty. Two light sources, a lantern and the moon, transform the night into a vibrant spectacle, almost audible with rustling leaves, rushing water, and the spade's clunk. Wright's mastery lies in bringing landscapes to life under the cover of darkness.
A closer examination of Wright's paintings reveals his pioneering role as the first gothic artist. The gothic novel genre was born with Horace Walpole's 'The Castle of Otranto' in 1764, and Wright's works from the 1760s and 1770s delve into the horrors of the night, driven by scientific curiosity rather than supernatural elements.
In 'A Philosopher by Lamplight,' two travelers stumble upon a cave illuminated by a solitary candle, where an old man, a philosopher, engages with a skeleton, lifting its leg while its skull stares back. This scene reflects the philosophical inquiry into death's mysteries, a theme that resonates with the rise of science in 18th-century Europe. As science gained prominence as a rational understanding of nature, the concept of God's existence became a subject of debate, as exemplified by Wright's friend, Erasmus Darwin, the grandfather of Charles Darwin.
'The Blacksmith's Shop' presents a unique blend of classical and Renaissance elements. The blacksmith's workshop, housed within a classical temple with Corinthian pilasters, serves as a metaphor for the death of paganism and the birth of Christianity. This symbolism extends to the material world, suggesting its emergence from the wreckage of Christianity.
Wright's 'A Philosopher Giving That Lecture on the Orrery in which a Lamp Is Put in Place of the Sun' invites viewers to explore the wonders of the universe and the true magic of science. The National Gallery provides a real orrery for comparison, showcasing Wright's ability to captivate audiences from various perspectives. The painting's allure lies in its ability to evoke different scales, from the vastness it appears to the children to the scientific toy it becomes in the distance.
The artist's use of shock tactics is evident in 'An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump,' a masterpiece from the Derby Museum collection. Painted two years after the Orrery, it shifts the focus from wonder to dread. The lecturer's intention to create a vacuum in a glass chamber, resulting in the death of a white cockatoo, elicits a range of reactions. Some hide their faces in horror, while others, like the youngest girl, are drawn to the spectacle, perhaps envisioning their own gothic tale.
Wright's paintings, including 'An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump,' showcase his mastery of light and darkness, defining objects and spaces with precision. The machine at the heart of the experiment, with its wooden column and brass fittings, echoes the steam engines being developed by the Lunar Society members. Matthew Boulton's quote, 'I sell here, Sir, what all the world desires to have: power!' encapsulates the essence of Wright's paintings, where power is not in the hands of the local gentry but in the grasp of the scientist, poised to unleash a new kind of power.
