In the past I’ve discussed quite a few British neo-classical painters such as Alma-Tadema and John Collier. Here I wish to draw attention to an Austrian artist in the same tradition, the hugely influential Hans Makart (1840-84). Makart was a prolific history painter, designer, and decorator in the ‘academic’ tradition and his work had considerable influence on the development of art in Austria-Hungary, Germany and beyond. The image below is a fairly standard example of late nineteenth century classicism- the school of women in togas on marble terraces, but Makart developed beyond this into something more imaginative and interesting. There was also an orientalist strand to his work, as demonstrated by several portrayals of Cleopatra and other ancient Egyptian women- see the image below; this too very typical of the period. Both ancient Rome and Pharaonic Egypt will have appealed to the artist because, as we shall see, they enabled him to indulge his taste for lavish colours, opulent ornamentation- and naked women.
Makart was born in Salzburg, the son of a failed painter, and began his artistic training at a remarkably young age at the Vienna Academy (1850-51). Classicism was the predominant style, with the emphasis on clear and precise drawing and the modelling of the human form in obedience to the principles of Greek sculpture. The young Makart, sadly, was a poor draughtsman and didn’t enjoy the continual drawing from statuary and from life- nor did his instinct for colour and flamboyance fit well with his teachers’ rather austere view of classical art. His teachers considered him to be lacking any talent or promise and he was dismissed from the Academy. Undeterred, the youth travelled to Munich for further training and thence to London, Paris and Rome. He developed a painting style that emphasised colour and drama; his work attracted attention when he began to exhibit and in 1868, when the Austrian emperor bought his version of the Romeo and Juliet balcony scene, his future was secured. Makart was encouraged to settle in Vienna and was provided with a studio. He’d asked for a suite of rooms but was given an abandoned foundry. This unpromising location had the advantage of size (to accommodate his vast paintings) but it was not initially appealing. Undeterred, Makart furnished and decorated it with artifacts and ornaments in the showy and lavish manner that became synonymous with his work. Those who liked to snipe at this upstart’s success labelled it a Trödelbude (junk room) or Möbel-Magazin (furniture warehouse), but it became a key destination for anyone visiting the imperial capital. The salon was regarded as such a “wonder of decorative beauty” that it became the model for the most tasteful reception rooms in private homes in Vienna. Makart thereby managed to make himself the foremost figure in cultured life in the capital and to develop the old factory into the vibrant social rendezvous for writers, the rich and the nobility- the venue for the best parties in the city.
In the Austrian imperial capital Makart painted portraits but also practiced as a costume, furniture and interior designer (a practitioner of the idea of the gesamtkunstwerk I’ve mentioned before). As well as private clients, his work was commissioned by the royal family and to hang in public buildings and in 1879, doubtless with an irony he relished, he was made a professor at the Vienna Academy. Sadly, though, Makart died just five years later, aged only 44, still at the peak of his celebrity and influence.
Hans Makart’s work gave rise to a so-called ‘Makartstil’ (Makart-style) which shaped Viennese culture. He was known popularly as the ‘magician of colours,’ for it was the design and look of his work that was important above all. His paintings tended to be very big and his themes were typically dramatic and allegorical, their subjects being drawn from European history and mythology. As such, he was considered to be the Austrian rival to the French William-Adolphe Bouguereau– and their pictures have much in common in both subject and flamboyant style. In fact, many of Makart’s contemporaries objected to precisely what links him with Bouguereau- his excess of nudes, introduced in historical scenes where they were unjustified. The theatrical scale of his canvasses was another target for professional contempt- although this actually reflects those ‘old masters’ whom he admired, such as Rubens.
It is Makart’s often over-the-top mythological paintings that I prefer. The society portraits and the murals for grand buildings are generally far less inspired or interesting- but his nymphs and goddesses can have a natural energy I enjoy. The artist’s instinct for sensuality, which many contemporary artists liked to sneer at, were ideally suited to this subject matter. I first came across Makart’s work when I was writing my book on The Great God Pan- and I prefer his vision of Arcadia to Bouguereau’s. On the whole, Makart’s renditions of nymphs and satyrs are a good deal less frenetic and a lot more pastoral than the Frenchman’s.
The painting that really launched Makart’s career in 1868 was Modern Cupids, which was exhibited in Munich and attracted considerable attention. This triptych is painted against a striking a gold background that transports the viewer to a mythical twilight. The central, vertical, panel of the three depicts a triumphal procession of nymphs and young satyrs. The main, probably female, figure in this group has a noticeably and disturbingly mature face on a youthful body. In the two side panels, nymphs are shown dancing in flowing gowns. Some of these girls are distinctly juvenile, although in the left-hand panel two of the nymphs are passionately kissing; a third nymph beside this couple wears a looser chiton or toga which reveals to us her bare back and a glimpse of bosom and another in the background cradles a baby. All these details mean that we are left slightly unbalanced by the youthful looks, adult clothes and hair styles, pierced ears and mature behaviour. All the figures, meanwhile, are surrounded by abundant nature, so that the main idea Makart seems to be conveying is that these beings are manifestations of the natural world, vigorous, fertile and ever-renewing. The ambiguity of the nymph as either girl or woman is a traditional aspect of these minor divinities; from a distinctly British perspective, too, the old head on a young body puts me in mind of the changeling child, an elderly faery swapped for a human infant. Due to these elements, the triptych as a whole feels unsettling: nature is depicted, but it is not fully natural.
That said, Makart also captured the violent vigour of the centaurs. As I have described in my book, The Woods are Filled with Gods, they share with the satyrs an irresistible desire for nymphs, but this is combined with huge strength and speed, as well as an irascible temperament, which can make them dangerous adversaries. The Renaissance and old master influences on Makart are often apparent- the battle between the lapiths and centaurs, for example, has a fine pedigree, stretching from the Parthenon’s marble friezes through Piero di Cosimo, Jacob Jordaens and Luca Giordano to the late nineteenth century (and, in fact, beyond- for instance proto-surrealist Giorgio de Chirico in 1909).
In addition to the direct impact that Makart had on art and culture in Vienna, his position at the Academy and the ubiquity of his work inevitably meant that he influenced younger painters and designers. Many of those, just as inevitably, rejected what he stood for. Gustav Klimt is a prominent example of such an artist; nevertheless, he always maintained his respect for Makart, whose influence is clear in Klimt’s early work. More generally, the decorative and sexual aspects of Austrian Art Nouveau have been traced back to ‘Makartstil.’ This impact notwithstanding, Makart’s reputation faded swiftly, so that an artist who was, in his lifetime, more famous and prestigious than many of the leading figures of French art, is now scarcely known.
For more information on Victorian era art, see details of my book Cherry Ripe on my publications page.
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