My Kid Could Paint That

Theodore Gericault completed The Raft of the Medusa, which eventually became the icon of Romanticism, when he was only 27-years-old.  The painting itself portrays the tragic incident that happened in 1816. The story of the Raft of the Medusa is based on a French Royal Navy Frigate that sailed in 1816 to colonize Senegal. Due to the shortage of lifeboats, those who were left behind built a raft for 150 people who went to physical and mental extremes in order to survive. They were physically tired and hungry and to survive they had no choice but to slaughter the weak to feed those who are desperate to live.

Putting in intense amount of research and dedication, the painter drew his inspiration from who survivors of the Medusa. He carefully dissected the subject piece by piece, documenting and questioning the survivors their trauma of exact details of the ship and the environment that they had to go through. Also, he referenced the rotting bodies of the corpses from hospitals, carefully examining the wounds.

Before starting on the painting, he created multiple sketches and created wax models to lay out many possible compositions. The final composition of the painting is played out in two pyramids overlaying each other in the center.  The style of the painting was inspired by the style that Caravaggio's practiced known as chiaroscuro. The style uses strong tonal contrasts between light and dark to show three-dimensional forms and display dramatic effects.

Relating Music and Art

Curated by Becky Reilly

I might be biased because I played this piece for a piano recital, but I love Chopin's music.  He searches for technical perfection and yet still conveys the unbridled emotion characteristic of the Romantic period.  His "Op. 10 No. 4 (Étude in #C Minor)" and Théodore Géricault's The Raft of the Medusa actually have much in common.  The roiling, disquieting left-hand rolls that begin at 0:18 are the same waves that rock the raft, and both the piece and painting are painstakingly composed but still violent and sweeping.

Géricault's The Raft of the Medusa was inspired by a shipwreck off the coast of Mauritania.  Only fifteen members survived, engaging in cannibalism and shocking the public upon their return.  Géricault shows a moment in which the desperate sailors finally see their savior.  The artist went to great lengths to forge an accurate rendering of the event, speaking with survivors, visiting morgues to learn to paint the dead, verifying the raft's exact dimensions, reading newspaper articles, and attending the captain's trial.  For all his research, he still romanticizes some aspects.  Many of the figures look uncharacteristically healthy, and the poses and chiaroscuro echo earlier movements, almost like a history painting.  But the mix of utter despair and hope are shocking and real.

Chopin's études, like other musician's, were designed for students to study and practice certain techniques -- in this case, velocity.  There are few sustained notes throughout the piece.  He opts instead to write lines of rapid sixteenth notes.  Mastery of an étude means executing it with perfect technique.  The expression comes from the speed, accents, and dynamics.  I find these two works related and interesting because of the intricacies of their creation and careful composition that, opposite the restrained Neoclassical style, instead builds into emotional maelstrom.

In 1816, a ship set out on a disastrously ill-fated voyage. Traveling from France to Senegal and captained by Hugues Duroy de Chaumerys (who had never commanded a ship before), the Medusa stuck close to the African shoreline in an attempt to make good time. Eventually, the ship ran aground on a sandbar. Whoops! The wealthy and important people onboard grabbed all the lifeboats for themselves, leaving over 100 people drifting on a makeshift raft. Over the next two weeks, cannibalism, insanity, and rough waters claimed all but fifteen of the survivors. In other words, the Medusa only needed Leonardo DiCaprio and a haunting soundtrack to become a major theatrical masterpiece. 

Théodore Géricault did the next best thing and used the tragedy as the subject of a painting, The Raft of the Medusa. The starving mariners are depicted as heavily muscled, idealized figures, barely clothed and sprawling over the deck of their ersatz craft. The pile of (white) sailors culminates with the upright figure of a black man, waving a frantic signal to the distant ship, a not-terribly-subtle statement about race. The tension and desperation of the tragedy come across loud and clear, reflecting the scandal that broke out in France after news got out. 

A century and a half later, musician Thomas Dolby (best known for "She Blinded Me With Science") released "One of Our Submarines," a work of art about a completely different nautical disaster. The haunting, echoing synth-pop was inspired by the story of Dolby’s late uncle, who was part of a submarine crew fighting in World War II. He drowned not during a military engagement, but while performing routine maneuvers. The futility and pettiness of his death stuck with Dolby over the years, eventually taking shape in this song. The Raft of the Medusa takes advantage of the same feeling of despair. Shipwrecked men are at the mercy of an uncaring sea, and not even the timeless love between Rose and Jack can save them.