ART HISTORY

Journey Through a Thousand Years

“Self-Evident Truths”

Week Nine: Neo-Classicism

Jacques-Louis David, “ Oath of the Horatii” - Joseph Wright of Derby, “A

Philosopher Giving a Lecture at the Orrery” – Soufflot, The Panthéon

(Church of Ste-Geneviève), Paris - The Death of Marat - Angelica

Kauffmann, “Cornelia Pointing to her Children as Her Treasures”- The

Formation of a French School: the Royal Academy of Painting and

Sculpture” - Key Paintings of the First Empire – The Death of General Wolfe

Giovanni Paolo Panini : Ancient Rome

Dr. Claire Black McCoy: “Jacques-Louis David, Oath of the Horatii”

From smARThistory (2016) The accurate history of Rome’s early days is obscured by the mists of time, but the legendary history of the days of the first seven kings of Rome was passed down lovingly. It contains stories of many adventures, including that of the three Horatii (sons of Horatius,) three young men who stood as the only hope of Rome against its enemies. When the great painter David captured this moment, he not only seared the definitive image of it onto the minds of all who saw it, but in a sense defined a new style of art: Neo-Classicism. Follow the link to find out more about this amazing work. Link to the article and video: https://smarthistory.org/jacques-louis-david-oath-of-the-horatii/ [New classics of the highest rank! This was the rallying cry of populations immersed in the 18th century Age

of Enlightenment who wanted their artwork and architecture to mirror, and carry the same set of standards,

as the idealized works of the Greeks and Romans. In conjunction with the exciting archaeological

rediscoveries of Pompeii and Herculaneum in Rome, Neoclassicism arose as artists and architects infused

their work with past Greco-Roman ideals. A return to the study of science, history, mathematics, and

anatomical correctness abounded, replacing the Rococo vanity culture and court-painting climate that preceded.

[…]

A landscape with Apollo guarding the herds of Admetus and Mercury stealing them (1645)

While Nicolas Poussin and Claude Lorrain were both French Baroque artists who spent most of their

working lives in Rome, it was their distinctive emphasis on a more classical approach that appealed to

Neoclassical artists. Claude, as he is commonly called, painted landscapes, using naturalistic detail and the

observation of light and its effects, with figures from mythological or Biblical scenes, as seen in his A landscape

with Apollo guarding the herds of Admetus and Mercury stealing them (1645) An effect of orderly harmony

was conveyed in many of his works, which appealed to Neoclassicism's belief that art should express the ideal

virtues.

Nicolas Poussin's The Death of Germanicus (1627) depicted the death and suspected

assassination of the popular Roman general as recorded by the Roman historian Tacitus.

While he was also a noted painter of religious subjects, Nicholas Poussin's mythological and historical scenes

were his primary influence on Neoclassicism. His The Death of Germanicus (1627) made him famous in his

own time, and influenced Jacques-Louis David as well as Benjamin West whose The Death of General

Wolfe (1770) draws upon the work. Though the works of Venetian Renaissance artist Titian influenced his

color palette, Poussin's compositions emphasized clarity and logic, and his figurative treatments favored strong

lines.

The Grand Tour - Neoclassicism was inspired by the discovery of ancient Greek and Roman archeological sites and artifacts that became known throughout Europe in popular illustrated reports of various travel expeditions. Scholars such as James Stuart and Nicholas Revett made a systematic effort to catalog and record the past in works like their Antiquities of Athens (1762). Wanting to see these works first hand, young European aristocrats on the Grand Tour, a traditional and educational rite of passage, traveled to Italy "in search of art, culture, and the roots of Western civilization," as cultural critic Matt Gross wrote. Rome with its Roman ruins, Renaissance works, and recently discovered antiquities became a major stop. Famous artists, such as Pompeo Batoni and Antonio Canova, held open studios as many of these aristocratic tourists were both avid collectors and commissioned various works. – “Neoclassicism,” from “The Art Story”]

Hubert Robert: Aqueduct in Ruins, 18th century, Oil on Canvas, Metropolitan Museum of Art –

Jacques-Louis David: Belisarius Begging for Alms, 1780 / 1781, Oil on Canvas, Palais des Beaux-

Arts de Lille

Jacques-Louis David: The Death of Socrates, 1787, Oil on Canvas, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Portrait d'Henriette de Verninac, 1799, par Jacques-Louis David, huile sur toile 145 x 112 cm, musée du Louvre

Dr. Abram Fox: “Joseph Wright of Derby, A Philosopher Giving a Lecture at the Orrery”

From smARThistory (2016)

Joseph Wright of Derby, A Philosopher Giving a Lecture at the Orrery (in which a lamp is put in place of

the sun), c. 1763-65, oil on canvas, 4′ 10″ x 6′ 8″ (Derby Museums and Art Gallery, Derby)

Two young boys, gazing over the edge of the contraption in playful wonder. A teenaged girl,

her arms resting on the machine, in quiet contemplation. A young man shielding his eyes

from the brilliance of the light emanating from the center, and a young woman staring

unblinkingly. A standing man taking copious notes on the proceedings. Another man leaning

back in his seat, listening intently to the gray-haired lecturer, captivating his audience like a

magician.

A key idea of the Age of Enlightenment—that empirical observation grounded in science

and reason could best advance society—is expressed by the faces of the individuals in Joseph

Wright of Derby’s A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrery.

The Age of Enlightenment

Wright’s painting encapsulates in one moment the Enlightenment, a philosophical shift in

the eighteenth century away from traditional religious models of the universe and toward an

empirical, scientific approach. It is important to note the term given this new way of

thinking. “Enlightenment” indicates an active process, undertaken by an individual by group.

The age of Enlightenment is most closely associated with scientists and inventors, but

writers and artists also played major roles. They helped spread enlightenment concepts via

the written word and printed image, and inspired others to think rationally about the world

in which they lived. The provincial English painter Joseph Wright of Derby became the

unofficial artist of the Enlightenment, depicting scientists and philosophers in ways

previously reserved for Biblical heroes and Greek gods.

Joseph Wright of Derby

Joseph Wright of Derby was born in the town of Derby in central England, and save for

short stints in Liverpool and London, lived in that city his entire life. He was known even

during his lifetime as Joseph Wright of Derby, to distinguish him from another artist of the

same name. Even though Wright of Derby was the more talented of the two, he was stuck

with the geographical identifier on his name.

Other than Thomas Gainsborough, who spent much of his career in the high-society resort

town of Bath, Wright was the most prominent English painter of the eighteenth century to

spend the majority of his career outside of London. Operating without the constraints of the

mainstream London art world, Wright was free to explore a general interest in science with

his friends, a group that included Erasmus Darwin (grandfather of Charles) and other

members of the Lunar Society of Birmingham, an informal learned society which met to

discuss scientific topics of the day.

Wright was known for his deft depiction of the contrasts between light and dark, also known

as chiaroscuro, and his unflinching portrayal of the true personalities of his subjects. This

trait caused his downfall when he attempted to work as a portraitist—few wanted a portrait,

warts and all.

The intensity of scientific discovery

In the 1760s Wright began to explore the traditional boundaries of various genres of

painting. According to the French academies of art, the highest genre of painting was history

painting, which depicted Biblical or classical subjects to demonstrate a moral lesson. This

high regard for history panting was adopted by the British—Benjamin West’s The Death of

General Wolfe is a prominent example.

Johan Joseph Zoffany, The Gore Family with George, third Earl Cowper, c. 1775, oil on canvas (Yale

Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection)

Wright took this noble, aggrandizing method of portraying events and applied it to a

composition showing a contemporary subject in A Philosopher Lecturing at the Orrery.

Rather than a moral of leadership or heroism, this painting’s “moral” is the pursuit of

scientific knowledge. With its collection of non-idealized men, women, boys, and girls

informally arranged in a small physical space around a central organizing point, Wright’s

painting mimics the compositional structure of a conversation piece (an informal group

portrait) like Zoffany’s Gore Family (above), but with the dramatic lighting and scale

expected from a major religious scene.

In effect, A Philosopher Lecturing at the Orrery does depict a moment of religious

epiphany. Much like the central figure in Caravaggio’s Calling of Saint Matthew (below), the

figures listening to the philosopher’s lecture in Wright’s painting are experiencing

conversion…to science.

Heroizing the search for knowledge

Orrery, c. 1750 (British Museum)

An orrery is a mechanical model of the solar system, a miniature, clockwork planetarium.

Each planet, with its moons, is a sphere attached to a swing arm which allows it to rotate

around the sun when cranked by hand. When in motion, the orrery depicts the orbits of each

planet, as well as their relative relationship to each other. The orrery depicted by Wright has

large metal rings which can simulate eclipses, and give the model a striking and exciting

three-dimensionality.

Orrery, c. 1750 (British Museum)

Although each of the figures in the painting is clearly modeled on a specific person, Wright’s

work was not meant to be a conversation piece in the eighteenth century sense of the word,

and so we can only guess at the identities of each person. Most likely the man standing and

taking notes is Wright’s friend Peter Perez Burdett, and the man seated at the far right may

be Washington Shirley, 5th Earl Ferrers, the initial owner of the work.

Several identities have been proposed for the philosopher delivering the lecture. The most

tempting theory is that his face is modeled on that of Sir Isaac Newton, the great English

scientist whose work helped herald in the Enlightenment. Another possibility is that it is a

member of the Lunar Society of Birmingham.

Jesus beckoning to Matthew (detail), Caravaggio, Calling of Saint Matthew, c. 1599-1600, oil on canvas,

322 cm × 340 cm (San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome)

The events depicted, although exciting, do not give A Philosopher Lecturing at the Orrery its

high dramatic impact. That responsibility falls on the paintings strong internal light source,

the lamp that takes the role of the sun. Wright mimics Baroque artists like Caravaggio, who

inserted strong light sources in otherwise dark compositions to create dramatic effect. Most

of these earlier works were Christian subjects, and the light sources were often simple

candles. Wright flips the script with his scientific subject matter. The gas lamp which acts as

the sun pulls double duty in the painting. It illuminates the scene, allowing the viewer to

clearly see the figures within, and it symbolizes the active enlightenment in which those

figures are participating.

John Flaxman: Monument to Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson, 1808-18,

Marble, St. Paul's Cathedral, London

John Flaxman: The Apotheosis of Homer

Daniella Berman: “The Formation of a French School: the Royal Academy of

Painting and Sculpture” From smARThistory (2020)

Jean-Baptiste Martin, A Meeting of the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture at the Louvre, c. 1712–

21, oil on canvas, 30 x 43 cm (Louvre)

In a room filled to the brim with painting and sculpture, well-dressed men in powdered wigs

assemble around a desk while stragglers chat with their neighbors. Jean-Baptiste Martin’s

small painting depicts a meeting of the distinguished French art academy without an artist’s

tool in sight—only the ornate room situates the scene in the Louvre palace. The choice to

not show the artists at work, but rather as fashionable gentlemen engaged in sociable

intellectual exchange speaks directly to the early history of the French Royal Academy.

The Académie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture (Royal Academy of Painting and

Sculpture) was established in 1648. It oversaw—and held a monopoly over—the arts in

France until 1793. The institution provided indispensable training for artists through both

hands-on instruction and lectures, access to prestigious commissions, and the opportunity to

exhibit their work. Significantly, it also controlled the arts by privileging certain subjects and

by establishing a hierarchy among its members. This hierarchical structure ultimately led to

the Académie’s dissolution during the French Revolution. However, the Académie in Paris

became the model for many art academies across Europe and in the colonial Americas.

Foundation

This preeminent training organization for painters and sculptors was founded in response to

two related concerns: a nationalistic desire to establish a decidedly French artistic tradition,

and the need for a large number of well-trained artists to fulfill important commissions for

the royal circle. Previous monarchs had imported artists (primarily from Flanders and Italy),

to execute major projects. In contrast, King Louis XIV sought to cultivate and support

French artists as part of his grander project of self-fashioning, with art playing a vital role in

the construction of the royal image.

The Académie quickly rose to prominence, in conjunction with the Ministry of Arts

(responsible for construction, decoration, and upkeep of the king’s buildings) and the First

Painter to the King—the most prestigious title an artist could achieve. Two men were

integral to the institution’s early history: Jean-Baptiste Colbert, an increasingly influential

statesman who acted as the institution’s protector, and the artist Charles Le Brun, who

would go on to be both First Painter and the Académie’s Director. Both men sought to

elevate the status of artists by emphasizing their intellectual and creative capacities, and both

sought to differentiate members of the Académie—academicians— from guild members

(guilds were a medieval system that strictly regulated artisans). The Académie, whose

members were financially supported by the King, moved into its permanent location at the

Louvre Palace in 1692, further reinforcing the institution’s status. Given such institutional

preoccupations, Martin’s decision to show artists as gentlemen socializing rather than as

artisans laboring takes on new significance.

Hierarchies

From its inception, the Académie was structured around hierarchy. There were distinct levels

of membership that an artist could advance through over time. In art, too, there was a

hierarchy: painting was prioritized over sculpture, and certain subjects were considered more

noble than others. To become a member, artists submitted work for evaluation by

academicians, who accepted them at a certain level, based on the kind of subjects they

aspired to paint. If they passed this first phase, applicants would execute a “reception piece”

depicting a subject chosen by the academicians.

The Académie divided paintings into five categories, or genres, ranked in terms of difficulty

and prestige:

History Painting—encompassing highbrow subjects taken from the classical tradition, the

bible, or allegories, this type of painting was considered the highest genre because it

required proficiency in depicting the human body, as well as imagination and intellect to

depict what could not be seen. These were often large-scale multi-figure paintings.

Benjamin West: The Burghers of Calais, 1789, Oil on canvas, 100 x 153 cm

Royal Collection, Windsor

Benjamin West: La batalla de La Haya

Portraiture—focusing on capturing likeness, this genre was prestigious, and certainly

lucrative, but less so than history painting. Portraitists were derided for “merely” copying

nature rather than inventing (an oversimplification as few portraits were executed entirely

from life).

Andrea Appiani: Josephine Bonaparte de Beauharnais incorona il mirto sacro a Venere

1796

Genre Painting—depicting scenes of everyday life, this genre included the human figure

but ostensibly did not represent grand ideas, although many genre paintings had

moralizing undertones. Genre paintings were smaller in size than history paintings,

further detracting from their prestige.

Theodore Gericault: The Plaster Kiln, 1822-23, Oil on canvas, 50 x 61 cm

Musée du Louvre, Paris

George Stubbs: William Anderson with Two Saddle-horses, 1793, Oil on canvas,

102,2 x 127,9 cm

Royal Collection, Windsor

Landscapes—consisting of all representations of rural or urban topography, real or

imagined, this genre became especially popular during the eighteenth and nineteenth

centuries.

Joseph Wright: Illumination of the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome

Joseph Wright: The Cloister of San Cosimato

Still Life Painting—often indulging in the juxtaposition of colors and textures, these

paintings represented inanimate (often luxury) objects and drew heavily on the

seventeenth-century Dutch tradition of such subjects. While at times other moralizing

symbols such as memento mori (reminders of human mortality) were included, these

were not an intrinsic part of the genre, which was considered to require no invention on

the part of the artist (since, they were painting what they could see).

Anne Vallayer-Coster: Attributes of Music , 1770, Department of Paintings of the Louvre

Jean-Baptiste Oudry, The White Duck (1753), stolen from Houghton Hall in 1990

Training

Benoît-Louis Prévost, after Charles-Nicolas Cochin, “The School of Art” (“Ecole de dessein”), planche

I. Recueil de planches sur les sciences, les arts libéraux, et les arts mécaniques, avec leur explications, volume

3 (Paris, 1763) […]

Academic instruction was centered on drawing (following the precedent of Italian drawing

schools established in the sixteenth century). The Académie maintained a rigid curriculum to

instruct artists, as recorded in contemporary accounts and depictions. An etching illustrating

a 1763 description of the “school of art” shows how students first learned to draw by

copying drawings and engravings (seen on the left) before moving on to drawing plaster

casts to learn how to translate the three-dimensional form into two dimensions (seen at

center). Students would then copy large-scale sculpture (as seen at the right-most edge)

before being allowed to draw the live […] model (as seen in the middle-right portion, slightly

set back from the foreground). Drawing the [human] form was the bedrock of

the Académie’s curriculum, an essential building block for painters, particularly those

destined to produce history paintings. Students produced many single-figure[…] studies,

known as académies, such as this example from Nicolas Bernard Lépicié. Props could be

added subsequently to transform the posed bodies into identifiable figures[…]

Outside of the Académie’s official spaces, academicians would provide advanced students

opportunities to draw nude female models. In addition to supervising drawing education,

each professor selected students to be part of his studio. This is where artists actually learned

to paint or sculpt by emulating their teacher, often contributing to his large-scale

commissions. Studio practices varied, and not all studio members were necessarily

enrolled Académie students.

Both academicians and students attended lectures addressing theoretical and practical aspects

of artistic practice, such as the importance of expressions or how to apply paint to ensure

longevity. These were offered by professors and so-called amateurs. These

honorary Académie members were not professional artists but art lovers and “friends of

artists”—often from the nobility—who advised artists on questions of composition,

aesthetics, and iconography and often championed certain artists, sometimes as patrons or

collectors.

The draw of Rome

The classical tradition was central to the Académie’s curriculum. In 1666,

the Académie opened a satellite in Rome to facilitate students’ study of antiquity. In 1674,

the Académie established the Prix de Rome (Rome Prize), a prestigious award that allowed

its most promising artists to study in Rome for three to five years. While the focus of the

French Academy in Rome was facilitating the study of classical antiquity, students also drew

after important Renaissance and Baroque artworks, as seen in Hubert Robert’s red chalk

drawing depicting an artist copying Domenichino’s fresco in a Roman church.

Hubert Robert, Draftsman in the Oratory of S. Andrea, S. Gregorio al Celio, 1763, red chalk,

32.9 x 44.8 cm (Morgan Library & Museum)

While in Rome, these Académie students—called pensionnaires—studied canonical artworks

and regularly sent their drawings and copies after important works back to Paris to

demonstrate their progress. Although not part of the formal curriculum, most artists

explored the Roman environs, taking inspiration from the rich landscape, diverse

topography, and colorful scenes of peasant life. Important connections were forged in Rome

with other artists, patrons, and supporters.

Salons and the rise of public opinion

Beginning in 1667, the Académie established exhibitions to provide members with the

crucial opportunity to display their work to a wider audience, thereby cultivating potential

patrons and critical attention. Held annually and, later, biannually, these exhibitions came to

be known as Salons, after the Louvre’s salon carré where they took place after 1725. The

Salon became a significant space of artistic exchange and an important opportunity to view

art prior to the formation of the public art museum.

Pietro Antonio Martini, View of the Salon of 1785, 1785, etching, 27.6 x 48.6 cm (image), 36.2 x 52.7

cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Artworks in the Salon were selected by a jury of academicians. Paintings were displayed

according to size and genre, with larger works (history painting and portraiture) occupying

the more prestigious higher levels, as can be seen in an engraving of the Salon of 1785

where Jacques-Louis David’s Oath of the Horatii features prominently in the center. With

the 1737 introduction of a broader public to the Salon came the advent of public opinion

and the emergence of art criticism. The Académie published a booklet that listed the

displayed works, organized by the artist’s rank, called the livret. Art collectors and learned

Salon-goers penned opinions analyzing the artistic and intellectual merit of the exhibited

artworks; some of these, like those written by philosopher Denis Diderot, were meant for a

small community of like-minded individuals both in France and beyond, but increasingly art

criticism was printed in newspapers for access by a broader public.

Genders and genres

The Académie was a male space, for the most part; some painters accepted female students

in their studios, particularly in the last quarter of the eighteenth century. […] During its 150-

year long history, the Académie only welcomed four women as full members: Marie-Thérèse

Reboul was admitted in 1757; Anne Vallayer-Coster was admitted in 1770; Adélaïde Labille-

Guiard and Elisabeth Vigée-LeBrun were both admitted in 1783.

Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, “Self Portrait in a Straw Hat,” oil on canvas, after 1782, The National

Gallery,

Despite their acceptance to the Académie, these women had limited options. Painting

primarily still-lifes (like Reboul), Vallayer-Coster elevated that genre with large-scale ornate

compositions. Labille-Guiard led a large studio of female students and was well-known as a

prominent portraitist. So too did Vigée-LeBrun, who pushed the boundaries of genre and

her gender by occasionally painting allegories, including her reception piece for

the Académie. Familial connections (in the case of Reboul, Labille-Guiard, and Vigée-

LeBrun) or royal protectors (in the case of Vallayer-Coster, Labille-Guiard, and Vigée-

LeBrun) played vital roles in their success. Without such champions, female artists were

unable to penetrate the patriarchal institution of the Académie. Still, their work and personal

lives were subjected to undue public scrutiny and their achievements were often maligned.

Abolition and afterlives

In the 1780s, the Académie came under attack by members and outsiders for politicizing the

distribution of prizes and honors. Its rigid hierarchies, inequitable structures, and rampant

nepotism were incompatible with the Revolution’s core values of Liberty and Equality.

Major artists who had benefited from the institution lobbied for its dissolution. With the

overthrow of the monarchy and Louis XVI’s execution, institutions with indelible royal

connections were scrutinized and deemed irrelevant. The Académie was abolished on

August 8, 1793 by order of the National Convention.

After several years of hardship for artists brought about by the erosion of royal, noble, and

ecclesiastical patronage during the Revolution, the Directory government revived many of

the structures of the Académie in establishing a National Institute of Sciences and Arts

(Institut nationale des sciences et des arts, subsequently Institut de France) in 1795. The new

organization’s membership included many former academicians, who reinstated certain

aspects of the now-defunct Académie, such as the Rome Prize in 1797. The hierarchy of

genres, inculcated in the Académie’s members and audiences, remained central to

understanding the arts throughout the nineteenth century.

Dr. Paul A. Ranogajec: “Soufflot, The Panthéon (Church of Ste-Geneviève), Paris”

From smARThistory (2016)

Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris (France)

An imposing portico and dome

As you leave the Luxembourg Gardens and head east along the Rue Soufflot in Paris’s dense

Latin Quarter, the imposing portico and dome of the Panthéon draws you forward. It is an

irresistible sight. One of the most impressive buildings of the Neoclassical period, the

Panthéon, originally built as the Church of Ste-Geneviève, was conceived as a monument to

Paris and the French nation as much as it was the church of Paris’s patron saint.

Jacques-Germain Soufflot, its architect, was highly praised for the design—although a few of

his contemporaries thought he went too far in defying tradition and structural necessity.

Soufflot was heralded during his life as the restorer of greatness in French architecture and

the building was lauded, even before it was completed, as one of the finest in the country.

Left: Henri Labrouste, Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève , 1838-50 (across from the Panthéon’s north side);

right: Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, dedicated 1626 (to the northeast of the Panthéon)

Encountering it today as its lofty dome rises far above surrounding buildings—including two

of its most important neighbors: the small but influential Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève

(1838-50) by Henri Labrouste, and the enchanting late-medieval and Renaissance church of

St-Étienne-du-Mont (both, above)—it remains as awe-inspiring as it must have been in the

late eighteenth century, despite some important changes since its opening. A century and a

half of French political history can be tracked with unusual precision in the original design

and subsequent changes in the Panthéon’s function and title.

150 years of French history

Soufflot’s Ste-Geneviève was built to replace a decrepit medieval abbey, an idea first

proposed during the time of King Louis XIV. The project fit, however, with Louis XV’s

program to aggressively promote his role as avatar of the nation’s greatness. The king saw

the church’s rebuilding as a token of his munificence and as material confirmation of the

French Catholic Church’s quasi-independence from the pope. And more specifically, the

church was the fulfillment of Louis XV’s pious vow, made in 1744 to his mistress, Madame

de Pompadour, to rebuild the church if he recovered from a fever and illness so severe that

he had been administered the Last Rites (a Catholic ritual of prayer for those considered

close to death). Soufflot’s Ste-Geneviève, then, was meant to focus the nation’s piety on an

unmistakable symbol of national and royal significance.

The church’s dedication to Saint Genevieve was important to its original political

significance. She had become one of France’s most important historical religious figures well

before the eighteenth century. According to legend, she had been instrumental in repelling

Attila’s Huns before they reached Paris in 451, and her relics were said to have miraculously

helped Odo, the ruler of Paris, resist a Viking attack in 885. A monastery was eventually

formed around the site of her burial in a church built originally in the early sixth century by

Clovis, the first king of the French territory, although it underwent many changes through

the twelfth century. The site, then, was the spot of an ancient and venerable shrine—and

vitally important to the identity of Paris through many centuries.

The purity of Greek architecture and the daring of Gothic

Thanks to the Marquis de Marigny, the Director of Royal Buildings, Louis XV appointed

Soufflot architect of the new church in 1755. By that time, Soufflot had achieved high

standing in the French architectural profession, having recently completed a number of

important buildings in Lyon, France, as the city’s municipal architect. Soufflot had earlier

established close ties to the French court when he accompanied Marigny as an architectural

tutor on a journey through Italy. Marigny and the king calculated that Soufflot was the best

candidate to give them the kind of memorable and forward-looking building that they

wanted for their interconnected political and religious purposes.

Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris

Soufflot’s pupil Maximilien Brébion stated that the church’s design was meant “to unite …

the purity and magnificence of Greek architecture with the lightness and daring of Gothic

construction.” He was referring to the way in which its classical forms, such as the tall

Corinthian columns and the dome, were joined with a Gothic type of structure that included

the use of concealed flying buttresses and relatively light stone vaulting.

Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris (photo: Velual,

CC BY 3.0)

Plan, Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris, France,

from A.D.F. Hamlin, A Text-Book of the History of Architecture, 1909

Inside, the unusually abundant rows of free-standing columns support a series of Roman

vaults and the central dome in a remarkably clear and logical expression of space and

structure—one of the artistic goals of Soufflot and certain other French architects of his

generation. Ste-Geneviève is a Greek cross in plan (nave, north and south transepts, and

choir are of equal dimensions), and originally the walls were pierced with windows in each

bay between the columns. This structure created a Gothic sense of openness out of the

classical columns and round-arched (as opposed to Gothic pointed-arch) vaults. Together

these elements endowed Soufflot’s building with stark order and light-filled spaciousness.

The relative lack of decorative adornment contributed greatly to the sense of spatial clarity

and austere grandeur.

Looking to the past to solve modern problems

Inspired by both recent archaeological excavations of ancient architecture and a new-found

concern for the medieval heritage of France—primarily the great Gothic cathedrals—

Soufflot and other architects, including the influential theorist Julien-David Leroy, sought to

update French architecture by incorporating lessons from the most impressive and

authoritative models of the past. In particular, Soufflot modeled aspects of Ste-Geneviève on

three earlier, highly-esteemed churches: St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome (especially its dome by

Michelangelo); St. Paul’s Cathedral in London; and, in Paris, the church of the Invalides

Hospital.

Right: Numerous architects, Saint Peter’s Basilica, begun 1506, Vatican City; center: Christopher Wren,

St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, begun 1675; Left: South facade, Hôtel National des Invalides, Paris, begun

1671 (photo)

Architectural historians have interpreted this approach to historical models as stemming

from the Enlightenment’s view of history, which saw the past as an unfolding, linear

progression of events that could be studied in a rigorous, almost scientific way to extract

lessons or models useful to the present generation. Older buildings were not to be copied

directly—Ste-Geneviève is no mere facsimile—but were to be measured, drawn, and closely

examined for the lessons they might hold for solving modern problems.

Moving away from the Baroque

Basilica of Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, Paris, consecrated 1666

Ste-Geneviève updated architectural traditions in more specific ways, too. Other recent

churches in Paris, such as Notre-Dame-des-Victoires and Saint-Roch, had used a Baroque

formula borrowed from well-known seventeenth-century churches in Rome. These churches

had tripartite fronts that rose up in the center, all usually articulated with profuse sculptural

decoration. Their facades played sophisticated formal design games with engaged columns

and flat pilasters, creating varied and dynamic surfaces that Neoclassical architects regarded

as bizarre and licentious. With the neoclassical focus on the supposedly purer or more

“natural” architectural forms of antiquity—a view exemplified, for instance, in Marc-Antoine

Laugier’s radically reductive Essai sur l’architecture (1753)—free-standing and orderly rows

of columns, centralized plans, and restrained ornament were favored over the Baroque

models. Soufflot’s rejection of these models put him at the forefront of Neoclassicism and

also symbolically supported the king’s antagonism toward the Roman Catholic Church. Ste-

Geneviève thus marked a new direction for both religious and state buildings in France.

Inscription, “To the Great Men [from] a Grateful Fatherland” (Aux grands hommes la patrie

reconnaissante), Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris,

France

Shortly after Ste-Geneviève’s completion, the tumultuous politics of the French Revolution

in 1789 and its repercussions throughout the nineteenth century led to alterations in the

building’s form and meaning. In 1791, at the height of the Revolution, the country’s

National Constituent Assembly decreed that Soufflot’s church be converted to a secular

Temple to Great Men. The original inscription on the portico’s frieze (a dedication to the

patron saint by Louis XV), was replaced with the one still visible today (above): “To the

Great Men [from] a Grateful Fatherland” (Aux grands hommes la patrie reconnaissante).

The church became a pantheon—Le Panthéon— honoring illustrious modern French

citizens, starting with the widely influential Enlightenment philosophers Rousseau and

Voltaire.

Pierre Puvis de Chavannes murals, begun 1874, for Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève

(now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris, France

The architect and theorist Antoine-Chrysostome Quatremère de Quincy was charged with

transforming the luminous church into a solemn mausoleum for the celebrated dead; instead

of a reliquary for the remains of Saint Genevieve, it was to be a receptacle for “the ashes of

the Great Men,” according to the Assembly’s decree. In fact, in 1793 the Revolutionary

government put the saint’s relics on trial—she stood accused of having spread religious

error—and symbolically exorcised her from the building. Quatremère de Quincy removed all

the symbols of the building’s church identity, including the bell towers at the east end. Most

dramatically, he bricked up the lower windows, turning the exterior walls into expansive

stone slabs and rendering the interior darker. This had the side-effect of providing extensive

interior wall surfaces for eye-level decoration, which eventually included the famous late-

nineteenth-century murals by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes illustrating the life of Saint

Genevieve (above). The other major post-Soufflot change to the building fabric was the

strengthening of the crossing piers that support the dome, carried out in 1806 by Soufflot’s

former collaborator, Jean-Baptiste Rondelet.

Antoine-Jean Gros, The Apotheosis of Saint Genevieve, 1811, dome, Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of

Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon) 1755-90, Paris, France (photo)

Dome, Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Church of Ste-Geneviève (now Le Panthéon), 1755-90, Paris, France

The building’s dedication swung back and forth between church and secular temple

throughout the nineteenth century. After Quatremère de Quincy’s Revolutionary

transformation of 1791, it was reconsecrated as a church under Napoleon in 1806, the

occasion for the addition of Antoine-Jean Gros’ painting of The Apotheosis of Saint

Genevieve on the dome. It was then changed back to the secular Panthéon following the

July Revolution of 1830; turned into a remarkably idealistic Temple to Humanity after the

revolution of 1848; remade once more as Saint Genevieve’s church in 1851 under Louis

Napoleon; and, finally, conclusively secularized yet again in 1885. These successive changes

were marked especially by the building’s decoration, above all the sculpture in its pediment,

which was recarved four times. The final and still visible pediment sculptures are the

allegorical representations of the Fatherland, History, and Liberty by Pierre-Jean David

d’Angers, completed in the 1830s during the July Monarchy. As revolutions, kings, and

emperors came and went over the course of the nineteenth century, the Panthéon was there

as a silent but attentive witness.

The ultimate transformation of the church into a secular temple of Enlightenment was

confirmed in spirit, if not by final writ, when, in 1851, the scientist Léon Foucault hooked a

cable to the center of the dome, creating a huge pendulum that he used to experimentally

demonstrate the earth’s axial rotation. Since 1995, a replica of “Foucault’s Pendulum” has

been in place under the Panthéon’s dome, an unusual but appropriate coda to the history of

a building which from the start had broad significance extending beyond its place and time.

Dr. Beth Harris & Dr. Steven Zucker: Jacques-Louis David, “The Death of Marat”

From smARThistory (2016) Link to video:

https://smarthistory.org/jacques-louis-david-the-death-of-marat/

Dana Martin: Angelica Kauffmann, “Cornelia Pointing to her Children as Her Treasures”

From smARThistory (2016) A moment of moralizing

To the artists of eighteenth-century Europe, it was not enough to simply paint a beautiful

painting. Yes one could marvel at your use of colors, proportions, and how masterfully you

draped the fabric on your figures, but this was just not enough. The story that is represented

must also improve the viewer and impart a moralizing message. This was a common theme

even before the emergence of the Neoclassical trend (for example, Chardin’s canvases of

simple French country life or Hogarth’s painted commentaries on the wealthy classes of

England). When interest in the ancient cultures of the Mediterranean—more specifically

Rome—arose in the mid eighteenth century the moralizing theme segued to also include

stories from classical antiquity.

Angelica Kauffmann, Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi, Pointing to her Children as Her Treasures, c. 1785,

oil on canvas, 40 x 50″ (Virginia Museum of Fine Arts)

The Swiss-born painter Angelica Kauffmann is just one artist to contribute to this genre.

Painted in 1785, Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi, Pointing to Her Children as Her

Treasures, is her subject. Roman architectural influences frame two women portrayed

wearing what one can imagine is typical of ancient Roman dress, along with three children,

also wearing masterfully draped togas with thin leather sandals. They look like they might

have stepped directly off a temple’s pediment.

An example of virtue

If you compare Kauffmann’s simple presentation to the previous Rococo genre, with the

lush landscapes, frothy pastel pink frocks, and chubby frolicking cherubs, it is clear that art is

going in a different direction. This painting is an exemplum virtutis, or a model of virtue.

The story that Kauffmann painted is that of Cornelia, an ancient Roman woman who was

the mother of the future political leaders Tiberius and Gaius Gracchus. The brothers

Gracchi were politicians in second-century B.C.E. Rome. They sought social reform and

were seen as friends to the average Roman citizen. So where did these benefactors of the

people learn their exemplary ethics? That would be their mother, Cornelia.

The scene that we see in Kauffmann’s painting illustrates one such example of Cornelia’s

teachings. A visitor has come to her home to show off a wonderful array of jewelry and

precious gems, what one might call treasures. To her visitor’s chagrin, when she asks

Cornelia to reveal her treasures she humbly brings her children forward, instead of running

to get her own jewelry box. The message is clear; the most precious treasures of any woman

are not material possessions, but the children who are our future. You can almost feel the

embarrassment when you look at the face of the visitor, who Kauffmann has smartly painted

with a furrowed brow and slightly gaped mouth.

The lure of ancient Rome

Angelica Kauffmann, Angelica Kauffmann, c. 1770-75, oil on canvas, 73.7 x 61 cm (National Portrait

Gallery, London)

Born in 1740, Angelica Kauffmann received a first-rate artistic education from her father,

who was a Swiss muralist. She traveled through her native Switzerland, Austria, and

eventually Italy where she was able to see the work of the ancient artists with her own eyes.

She was following in the tradition of the Grand Tour, the educational excursion that many

wealthy Europeans took to marvel and study the art, architecture, and history of ancient

Rome.

The interest in ancient Mediterranean cultures was fueled not just by the cultural productions

of Rome, but also by the newly discovered remains of the ancient Roman cities of

Herculaneum and Pompeii, which were excavated beginning in 1738 and 1748, respectively.

Covered by the volcanic ash of Mount Vesuvius in August 79 CE, an almost perfect scene of

typical ancient life was preserved. These findings did not just spark a renewed interest in

classical antiquity in eighteenth-century art and architecture, but also inspired new fashions,

interior design, and even gardens and tableware. This was a find that one must see in person,

and Angelica Kauffman was lucky enough to take the Grand Tour like so many of her fellow

artists.

Enlightenment ideals

While the geometric symmetry and simplicity of the arts in antiquity might have greatly

inspired the work of Kauffman and other Neoclassical artists, these ancient societies also

aligned with Enlightenment ideals, which were often seen as the zenith of human

civilization. Greece and Rome—it was felt—were the cultures that gave us the enlightened

political systems of democracy and republicanism, as opposed to the modern monarchies,

which would be increasingly criticized as corrupt and arbitrary in the mid and late eighteenth

century. The ancients could instruct modern audiences in patriotism, civic virtue, and ethics,

and Kauffmann’s moralizing message is a wonderful example of this trend.

This revival of classical antiquity was a cultural phenomenon that affected not just artistic

practices, but also shaped the modern mind. Angelica Kauffman would eventually settle in

England where she enjoyed great success as a portrait artist and history painter. In an age

that can be described as patriarchal at its best and chauvinistic at its worst, Kauffmann

played a major role in the British art scene. She was a regular exhibitor at the prestigious

Royal Academy and had many aristocratic and even royal patrons. Cornelia Pointing to Her

Children as Her Treasures is truly one of Kauffmann’s most famous treasures, and

permanently positioned her as a pioneer of the Neoclassical movement.

Le Fondation Napoleon: “Key Paintings of the First Empire” From “Napoleon.Org: The Website of the Fondation Napoleon” Neo-classical art was frequently used as propaganda for the leaders of the day. Napoleon Bonaparte, general and later emperor of France after the Revolutionary and Directoire governments, frequently commissioned himself as subject of portraits that would shape the way both his subjects and enemies saw him. Visit the page – you will find a painting with a short discussion beneath it. Following these is a list of twelve different paintings that portray various moments in the life of Napoleon. Click through each – what ideas do you see shaped by the artist in each one? https://www.napoleon.org/en/history-of-the-two-empires/key-paintings-1st-empire/

Benjamin West: The Treaty of Penn with the Indians. 1771-72, Oil on canvas, 190 x

274 cm, Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, Philadelphia

Benjamin West: “The Death of General Wolfe” From “The Art Story” Link to Article - You need only read the one on “The Death of General Wolfe.”

https://www.theartstory.org/movement/neoclassicism/artworks/

ATTRIBUTIONS

“Neoclassicism,” “The Art Story” Website, Accessed Nov. 3, 2020, https://www.theartstory.org/movement/neoclassicism/history-and- concepts/#:~:text=Neoclassicism%20was%20inspired%20by%20the,reports%20of%20va

rious%20travel%20expeditions.&text=Rome%20with%20its%20Roman%20ruins,antiquities%20became%20a%20major%20stop.

Dr. Abram Fox, "Joseph Wright of Derby, A Philosopher Giving a Lecture at the Orrery," in Smarthistory, January 8, 2016, accessed November 4, 2020, https://smarthistory.org/joseph-wright-of-derby-a-

philosopher-giving-a-lecture-at-the-orrery/. Daniella Berman, "The Formation of a French School: the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture,"

in Smarthistory, September 2, 2020, accessed November 3, 2020, https://smarthistory.org/royal-academy-france/.

Dr. Paul A. Ranogajec, "Soufflot, The Panthéon (Church of Ste-Geneviève), Paris," in Smarthistory,

January 8, 2016, accessed November 3, 2020, https://smarthistory.org/soufflot-the-pantheon-church-of-ste-genevieve-paris/.

Dana Martin, "Angelica Kauffmann, Cornelia Pointing to her Children as Her Treasures," in Smarthistory, January 7, 2016, accessed November 4, 2020, https://smarthistory.org/angelica-kauffmann-cornelia-

pointing-to-her-children-as-her-treasures/.

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