I thought that more artists had used their art to depict dreams and visions than actually had. I wasn’t taking the angle of “well, all art is a vision, really” – lazy, and wrong. As I hope some of the Messy Histories project has shown, art hasn’t often just been about the artist’s imagination running wild, even when they’re painting fiction. For example, most paintings of Ancient Greek idylls are not really about the scene. They’re about politics, moral ideals, or the concerns relative to their society. Scenes are rarely chosen by accident or whim.
One angle which did come up a lot in my research was religion. Many religious and spiritual practices depend on dreams having significance, and visions as existing. When there’s no other means of validating your belief system, you have to go with what you can. Which sounds dismissive – though I’m atheist, I don’t really mean that. I don’t believe in dreams as prophecies, but I do respect that they have a role in helping us process experience and emotions. I think something all the works here have in common is that they understand this and give us space to learn or feel something of the sense of the vision. Even in the Victoriana of Collier’s Priestess, I think there’s an extent to which we can connect with her trance. It’s why I think the Dali is the weakest by some distance, because it’s more interested in the imagery than the meaning.
Click the images to enlarge.
Salvador Dali , “Dream Caused By The Flight Of A Bee Around a Pomegranate A Second Before Waking”, 1944. I hate the painting style here, to be honest. Think it’s responsible for too many bad album covers. Kind of captures the surreal nature of dreams, though.
Francisco Goya, “The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters”, circa 1799. I love this etching. Had a proper nightmarish quality about it. It was intended as a critique of Spanish society, particular its devotion to superstitious beliefs. Funny then that he harks to these traditions so strongly in this visual language.
“Seated Shaman” sculpture, from the Xochipala culture of Mexico, 400BC-200AD. I love the connection this sculpture makes between the two figures. They’re so animated, you almost feel like you’re following their conversation yourself.
John Collier, “The Priestess of Delphi”, 1891. Although in colour and exoticism it’s quintessentially Victorian, it’s also surprisingly historically accurate. The Pythia (Oracle) was young (until one was raped, then it had to be a woman over 50). She did receive ‘prophecies’ by inhaling fumes from a crack in the earth – this has only recently been proven in fact by modern archaeology. And the stool she sits on is copies directly from Greek kylix (vase) sources. The leaves she holds are laurel, associated with the god Apollo, to whom the sanctuary of Delhi was dedicated.
Hieronymous Bosch, “The Garden of Earthly Delights”, 1490-1510. Lots to like in this famous painting. The detail and strangeness of the imagery is one part, of course. But what I also appreciate about this triptych is that it’s not known whether this is a vision of a moral these-things-are-bad judgement, or a utopia. And if it is a utopia then it’s unsure whether it’s one passed or one to come. Not sure whether that’s promising, like.
El Greco, “The Vision of St John”, 1608-14. I find El Greco absolutely fascinating in terms of other career and style. He started painting traditional Orthodox icons, learned other styles in Italy, moved to Spain and created wonderful, dramatic, evocative works like this. This is such a dramatic work to conjure up the end of days.
Andy Warhol made many version of his Marilyn Monroe prints following the star’s death in 1962. If the defining ‘dream’ of the 20th century was the American Dream, these works could be called their ultimate representation. A star who represented mid-century glamour having her image produced and re-produced to an absurd extent. If the Americna Dream is about abundance, this is that taken to its logical extremes. Which, given the circumstances of Monroe’s death, are those of unsustainable tragedy.
