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| Turner, Moonlight, a Study at Millbank, 1797 |
Before Turner (1775–1851) the moon is — to all intents
and purposes — absent from western painting (and somehow, even the 17th
century Dutch landscape painters seem never to have ‘seen’ this conspicuous
lunar phenomenon). Why Turner should have been first in the field was, I think,
almost undoubtedly due to his indefatigable study of all aspects of the natural
world. He looked, as no one before him, at the sky, the sea, trees, plants, and
the geological structure of landscapes.
It was therefore inconceivable that the moon should escape his notice; and by the time of his death he had included it in more paintings than any artist before or since. Moreover, when Turner’s paints the moon it is always fully integral to his compositions. It is never simply an adjunct to his compositions which might have been placed almost anywhere in the sky. This is clearly demonstrated in Moonlight, a Study at Millbank, 1797. The Moon is perfectly placed between the furled sail on the left and the full sail on the right; and the evening star, tiny as it is, is just sufficient to ‘leaven’ the brightness of the moon.
It was therefore inconceivable that the moon should escape his notice; and by the time of his death he had included it in more paintings than any artist before or since. Moreover, when Turner’s paints the moon it is always fully integral to his compositions. It is never simply an adjunct to his compositions which might have been placed almost anywhere in the sky. This is clearly demonstrated in Moonlight, a Study at Millbank, 1797. The Moon is perfectly placed between the furled sail on the left and the full sail on the right; and the evening star, tiny as it is, is just sufficient to ‘leaven’ the brightness of the moon.
It seems inconceivable that subsequent and contemporary painters were not influenced by Turner, and one of the finest of
these was Ford Maddox Brown. This can be seen in his masterly painting, Carrying
Corn, 1854–5, Oil on panel, 7 ¾ x 11. The moon in this painting is
comparatively pallid: what used to be called a ‘day moon’. Nevertheless it is
essential to the composition: it has a dynamic relationship to the two rounded
trees on the left (which seem almost to be playing shuttlecock with this
far–distant ball of rock). It even relates to the broad curve between the turnip field
and the hay field, as if it were exerting a gentle ‘pull’ on this calm ‘tide’
of green and yellow. ‘All great art is subtle’, Ruskin wrote, and Carrying
Corn is a paradigm example of why this should be so.
Before turning to a painting in which the moon forms
an essential part — in a way that would have been beyond the sensibility and
imagination of Turner — it is worth
considering John Linnell’s Harvest Moon,
1858. As with Ford Maddox
Brown’s Carrying Corn, Linnell has been very careful to balance his
composition, and equally the moon cannot be removed without rendering the
painting dull — for all the brightness of its colours. Five things are notable:
the top of the tree forms a fine subtle crescent, tilted towards the moon; the
three sheep in the field are like stars, and make a subtle connection between
the moon and the main group of figures; the seated woman placed almost
immediately beneath the moon, directs her attention towards the approaching
figures, and so helps to maintain the ‘circularity’ of the composition; and
finally — as with Ford’s Carrying Corn —
the moon is so placed above the hay–field that it is as if as if it were
exerting a pull on it.
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| John Linnell, Harvest Moon, 1858 |
My last example is Paul Nash’s Pillar and Moon, 1940.
Paul Nash was the only British painter who truly
took his place among the
European surrealists — Dali, Magritte, Paul Delvaux, Andre Breton, Giorgio
Chirico, Jean Arp, et al — and was described by Andre Breton as, ‘The master of
the image’. Pillar and Moon is not
exactly surreal, yet the relationship between the earth–bound globe (‘balloon’)
and its celestial counterpart of orbiting rock has a poetic ‘correspondence’
never before essayed in painting — specifically
in terms of the moon that is, not as a generality about correspondences in
art. Roger Cardinal describes Nash’s objective as precisely as is possible:
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| Paul Nash, Pillar and Moon, 1940 |
[For Nash] it is the sensation, the feeling of
the right association which matters. The matching of objects in a telling
metaphor can never be mechanically measured ... Rather, it needs to be grasped
intuitively. One cannot defend Nash’s correlations any more than those of
Magritte, other than by saying that they do achieve an incisive and persuasive
impact, a sense of ‘rightness’.
The Landscape
Vision of Paul Nash. Reaktion Books, 1989
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Photograph by
Paul Nash, used as basis of Pillar and Moon





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