.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
拍品專文
Los Caprichos, first printed and published by the artist in 1799, comprise of eighty etchings with aquatint, which seem to expose and mock the peasantry's superstitious belief in witchcraft and folk myths, the arrogance of the nobility, and the brutality and widespread corruption of the Catholic Church, and the general ignorance and stupidity of contemporary Spanish society or perhaps mankind in general. However, Mark McDonald observed that 'traditional interpretations of the Caprichos as an enlightened satire of "human errors and vices" or as a journey "through the night of human absurdity to the daylight of reason" have been revised in recent years. The Caprichos might also be an exploration of the tensions between observation and imagination, as the two sections' frontispieces [plates 1 and 43] and the images' frequent references to the senses suggest. A recent study of the works in the context of eighteenth century epistemology underscores the point, noting that the Caprichos' ambiguities produce a perceptual uncertainty.' (McDonald, p. 98)
Plate 59 is a prime example for these ambiguities and uncertainty. Even the contemporary or near-contemporary manuscript commentaries on the Caprichos, which are worth quoting here, do not agree even on the most fundamental level on the meaning of this print, loosely titled 'Y aun no se van!'. In the Prado manuscript, the interpretation reads as follows: ‘He, who does not reflect upon the instability of fortune, sleeps tranquilly while surrounded by danger, nor does he know how to avoid dangers which threaten him, nor is there any misfortune which would not surprise him.’ The so-called Ayala text, dated circa 1799-1803, saw in the print a pithy, moral verdict: ‘Mortals mired in vices, see the wall of death falling upon them and still they do not change their ways’. More contemporary commentators, such as Alfonso Pérez Sánchez, saw it as an image of the dead haunting the living, restricting and crushing them with their enduring presence. (Pérez Sánchez & Gallego, p. 68, n. 59)
The etching shows a naked and bald, emaciated human figure of uncertain gender holding up a huge stone slab hanging over them with their full force and weight. Underneath the stone lies another naked figure, in agony or dead, and and old, cloaked woman stands behind helplessly, her hands clutched in fear. Other figures, including a nude, hunchbacked woman, crouch in the background. The only obvious element of the composition is that heavy stone plate, angled at 45 degrees, poses a great threat to the figures below. Beyond this fact, nothing is certain, as the diverging commentaries demonstrate: it is unclear whether the figures are raising the stone slab or are crushed by it, nor can it be determined whether the figures are mere spectres or living, suffering and dying people. The uncertainty of what is depicted and vagueness of the title brings with it a profound moral ambiguity, which is present throughout the Caprichos: are we to pity these figures for their plight, admire them for their tenacity or condemn them for their foolishness?
The present impression is an extremely rare proof impression before the full stop at the end of the title was replaced by an exclamation mark. Only five examples are recorded. Such proofs before changes in the titles where not, however, working proofs in a strict sense, but were already bound together in complete sets together with other early pulls, presumably as presentation copies produced by Goya before the main print-run of the edition. This is certainly true for the present sheet, which has its edges tinted in red, a clear indication that it was once bound into a volume. What unites these early proofs in the care with which they were inked and printed, and the lack of any wear, particularly evident in the rich and even printing of the aquatint.
Technically the Caprichos mark a turning point in the history of printmaking. Goya was the first major artist to work in the relatively new technique of aquatint, and he used it to its full effect - layering veils of tone one upon the other, sometimes coarse and granular, at other times velvety like a mezzotint or so fine it resembles a light watercolor wash.
Plate 59 is a prime example for these ambiguities and uncertainty. Even the contemporary or near-contemporary manuscript commentaries on the Caprichos, which are worth quoting here, do not agree even on the most fundamental level on the meaning of this print, loosely titled 'Y aun no se van!'. In the Prado manuscript, the interpretation reads as follows: ‘He, who does not reflect upon the instability of fortune, sleeps tranquilly while surrounded by danger, nor does he know how to avoid dangers which threaten him, nor is there any misfortune which would not surprise him.’ The so-called Ayala text, dated circa 1799-1803, saw in the print a pithy, moral verdict: ‘Mortals mired in vices, see the wall of death falling upon them and still they do not change their ways’. More contemporary commentators, such as Alfonso Pérez Sánchez, saw it as an image of the dead haunting the living, restricting and crushing them with their enduring presence. (Pérez Sánchez & Gallego, p. 68, n. 59)
The etching shows a naked and bald, emaciated human figure of uncertain gender holding up a huge stone slab hanging over them with their full force and weight. Underneath the stone lies another naked figure, in agony or dead, and and old, cloaked woman stands behind helplessly, her hands clutched in fear. Other figures, including a nude, hunchbacked woman, crouch in the background. The only obvious element of the composition is that heavy stone plate, angled at 45 degrees, poses a great threat to the figures below. Beyond this fact, nothing is certain, as the diverging commentaries demonstrate: it is unclear whether the figures are raising the stone slab or are crushed by it, nor can it be determined whether the figures are mere spectres or living, suffering and dying people. The uncertainty of what is depicted and vagueness of the title brings with it a profound moral ambiguity, which is present throughout the Caprichos: are we to pity these figures for their plight, admire them for their tenacity or condemn them for their foolishness?
The present impression is an extremely rare proof impression before the full stop at the end of the title was replaced by an exclamation mark. Only five examples are recorded. Such proofs before changes in the titles where not, however, working proofs in a strict sense, but were already bound together in complete sets together with other early pulls, presumably as presentation copies produced by Goya before the main print-run of the edition. This is certainly true for the present sheet, which has its edges tinted in red, a clear indication that it was once bound into a volume. What unites these early proofs in the care with which they were inked and printed, and the lack of any wear, particularly evident in the rich and even printing of the aquatint.
Technically the Caprichos mark a turning point in the history of printmaking. Goya was the first major artist to work in the relatively new technique of aquatint, and he used it to its full effect - layering veils of tone one upon the other, sometimes coarse and granular, at other times velvety like a mezzotint or so fine it resembles a light watercolor wash.