The White Slave, by Ernest Normand (1894)

So, we close our look at Orientalist painter Ernest Normand (1857 - 1923) with one of his most prurient pictures, The White Slave from 1894.

It is astonishing how many of Normand’s paintings concern slave girls, or brown and black men ogling white women.  Normand wore his cultural fears and prejudices on his sleeve, and they leaked into his work with a happy regularity.  These concerns were almost always couched in the tropes of history or Orientalist paintings, settings that would give free reign to his rather colorful imagination.  (He must have been a delight at dinner parties.)

Happily, there are some instructive things in this picture.  First off, the magnificent carved lion in the background was also in Bondage, his picture from three years earlier.  Also, notice the circular motif of the tiled floor – this was present also in Bondage and Esther Denouncing Haman.  Also briefly glimpsed in the hands of the seated slave is the dulcimer from Bondage.  Finally, see the ubiquitous palm tree in the background, which for Normand means all things foreign.

The story of the picture is clear enough.  A slave dealer brings his latest prize to an Eastern or North African potentate, who already has two slaves in attendance.  The poor woman (obviously a captive of some kind) disrobes, her gaze turned away in shame.

While making japes and wheezes about Normand’s taste (or lack of it), it’s too easy to overlook the man’s real skill at drawing and compositional sense.  First off, we see again Normand’s mastery of drapery as we look at the robe around her lower body and spread upon the floor.  Also impressive are the “Eastern” rugs and pillows beneath the king, along with the tiger rug (another holdover from Bondage). 

Also true is his command of anatomy.  Not only is the central woman beautifully rendered, but the other two female slaves are depicted with a sure hand.

The look of desire on the king’s face is quite telling, as is that of calculation on the slave trader.  Though not subtle, Normand once again channels his obsessions into a dramatic picture.

Esther Denouncing Haman, by Ernest Normand (1888)

Here is another scene that looks for all the world like a widescreen 1950s Biblical epic, courtesy of artist Ernest Normand (1857 - 1923).  

Whatever Normand’s lapses of taste, his sense of the dramatic is undeniable.  Many of his pictures are staged as if they were elaborate tableaux constructed for the ornate theatrical experiences of the time.  (Stage production in the Victorian era was of an order so lavish as to put even the most contemporary Broadway extravaganza to shame.)

This dramatic scene illustrates a moment in the Old Testament.  Esther, wife of King Ahasuerus, King of Persia, is pointing accusingly at Haman, a treacherous friend of the King. King Ahasuerus is sitting in the shadows behind Esther.

Haman is the main antagonist in the Book of Esther, who, according to Old Testament tradition, was a 5th Century BC noble and vizier of the Persian Empire under King Ahasuerus.  In the story, Haman and his wife Zeresh instigate a plot to kill all of the Jews of ancient Persia by persuading Ahasuerus to provide an executive order to do so.  Included in the edict would be the killing of Mordecai and all the Jews of the lands he ruled. The plot was foiled by Queen Esther, the king's recent wife, who is herself a Jew. Haman would be hanged from the gallows that had originally been built to hang Mordechai.

The reason for all of this bloodshed was, as is often the case, wounded pride.  Mordecahi would not bow before Haman at a state function.  According to myth, Esther makes her case against Haman to King Ahasuerus personally.  The King asks Esther, "Who is he? Where is the man who has dared to do such a thing?" Esther replies, "The adversary and enemy is this vile Haman."

Then Harbona, one of the eunuchs attending the king, says, "A gallows 50 feet high stands by Haman's house. He had it made for Mordecai." And the king replies, "Hang him on it!"  The dead bodies of his ten sons Parshandatha, Dalphon, Aspatha, Poratha, Adalia, Aridatha, Parmashta, Arisai, Aridai and Vaizatha (or Vajezatha), are also hanged there after they die in battle trying to kill the Jews.

As is often the case when researching religious myths, I’m delighted to be alive in the more secular 21^st Century…

Normand showed this picture at the Royal Academy, London in 1888; and its intensity is marked.  Esther stands stage right, kneeling before her husband the king while her body twists to point an accusing finger a Haman.  Note the drapery of her robes as they fall upon the stairs, and the detailing of her sleeves as they droop about her arms. 

Equally impressive is the cowering figure of Haman.  He regards his accuser from beneath beetle brows, hands up as if warding off an attack.  I find the gold highlights of his robe particularly impressive, but they are nothing compared to the loving detail Normand puts into Haman’s chair.  Feathers in the onyx sphinx armrests reflect the light, and the matching golden paws that make the chair and table legs are inventive touches.

As befits a king, Ahasuerus sits above the fray in his robes of red and gold.  (In an appreciated and witty touch, Normand also depicts the king as statue to the right and left of the door.)  At the king’s feet is Harbona, watching Esther make her accusation.  You can almost see the wheels turning in the eunuch’s head; any moment now he will speak.

If a contemporary film adaptation of the story were to include the histrionics depicted here, it would be hooted off of the screen.  However, as a pictorial spectacle, Normand does manage to milk the drama to considerable effect.  Normand was, by no stretch of the imagination, a tasteful painter, but he did have dramatic flair.

More Normand tomorrow!

Bondage, by Ernest Normand (1890)

Though perhaps not the ideal picture to hang over your breakfast nook, I must confess that I have a sneaking admiration for the artist’s bravura sensuality and over-the-top sensibility.

Not much is known about artist Ernest Normand (1857 - 1923).   He was born in London, educated in Germany and returned to England in 1876.  Like many artists, he had some trouble finding his own way in the world – he started by working in his father’s office; but art was his true calling and Normand attended evening classes in art at St. Martin's and spent his spare time drawing antiques in the British Museum.

Normand entered the Royal Academy Schools in 1880 when he was 23, studying there for three years.  He first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1881, where he continued to exhibit till 1904.  In 1884 he married the painter Henrietta Rae (1859-1928).  Rae is perhaps better remembered now, largely a result of our consuming post-feminist search for significant women painters. 

Ernest and Henrietta traveled to Paris in 1890 to study at the Académie Julian with Jules Joseph Lefebvre and Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant. The couple would later live in Holland Park, where they became something like the darlings of the older artistic community (Leighton and Millais, for example), who visited them frequently. 

Normand was clearly influenced by the Orientalism that swept the 19th Century – a focus on the remote and exotic fostered by adventurer-artists who traveled the world in search of the foreign, the picturesque and the beautiful.  Though not nearly as adventurous (or as tasteful) as other Orientalists, Normand does have a certain Cecil B. DeMille sensibility that is a great deal of fun.

Bondage, painted in 1890, is so wonderfully prurient that I find it irresistible.  An enthroned and rather bored looking potentate consults with one of his many slaves, as the slave trader literally unwraps his new sale item.  The undraped slave stands not only proud in her nudity, but brazen.  A seated slave with a dulcimer looks on, and, to the far left, other slaves and court lackeys gaze with approval or interest.  All of the slaves are of a darkish hue except for the two on the lower right-hand corner, which are the real focus of the picture.  The blonde female slave shares none of the new slave’s carnality, and strives to conceal and protect her body.  Her daughter is beside her, hiding in her mother’s back and hair.  Despair is written upon their faces, and their sense of peril is palpable.

Of course, Normand creates a storybook sense of the Orient.  Buildings reminiscent of the Ancient World are palely depicted in the background, as are exotic trees.  The scene-of-action is wonderfully ‘foreign,’ complete with fountain, tiger rug, carved thrones and elaborately draped Oriental clothes, all taking place under a golden canopy.  Most wonderful of all is the magnificent carved lion, something of a Normand signature piece which we will see in another picture.

The subtext here is not all the sub – in fact, the message is clear: various barbarians of the East are worst than decadent, and they want our women.

More Normand tomorrow!