Two's A Crowd - Esther

Is anyone else noticing how odd it is to see photos of crowds at the moment? Maybe looking at pictures in your phone, online, in films? Or how quickly we’re getting used to seeing people being interviewed from two metres away?  

When first asked to write for this blog, I was determined to let each blog piece stand alone, no matter what else was going on in the world. But it’s all too weird for that, isn’t it? Everything is just too peculiar & out of the ordinary for me to ignore it right now.

Harbour Crowd (Keith Henderson)

With that in mind, I decided to look this week at the art of the crowd, you know, just to weird you out a bit more. Or to remind you that at some point, all this will be happening again – we will gather in large numbers again & not necessarily at a state-sanctioned distance apart. Naturally there has been a spate of online artworks parodying famous paintings without the presence of their equally well-known sitters. I suspect we’ll lose something of our sense of humour in the coming weeks, but it’s worth keeping up for now.

Lots of things we do involve crowds – in my case concerts, football (soccer) games & work. But we also gather to protest, to celebrate, to mourn. Online communities are busier than ever, as the masses realise the importance of human connection. If you’re missing the energy or even just the look of a crowd, this entry is for you.

The Metropolis (George Grosz)

Oh but I neglected to mention that I plan to put you off crowds to make this whole time a bit easier. & that the main thrust of this instalment is more about the awfulness of a crowd than the coming together of like minds & a chance for festivity. Because not everyone likes a crowd. Sometimes they are oppressive, alienating & divisive.  

Only Connect (Antony Sher)

Significantly perhaps, one of the most peopled subjects in art history is Hell itself. Whole hoardes of them. Can this be a complete coincidence? Are there really so many wicked people in the world that they’ve all ended up in the fiery pit for all eternity? Well you didn’t expect it to be empty now, did you? 

[As tempting as it is at this point to write, “Hell is other people,” I’m reminded that it was not Sartre’s intention to suggest that other people are the problem.

"By the mere appearance of the Other,” he says, “I am put in the position of passing judgment on myself as on an object, for it is as an object that I appear to the Other."
To my eyes, that reads as: people know stuff about you that you wish they didn’t. That’s kind of worse. All this isolation encourages overthinking & I’m tempted to just return to the misunderstanding of the quote.]

Hell is a great subject for artists of any era to get involved with. I find myself particularly impressed with 12^th/13^th Century Japan’s depictions of Hades. There’s a lot of red in them, a lot of gnashing of teeth & you really get a sense of violent but deserved suffering. But for putting you off a crowd (& Hell, quite frankly), I can’t think of a more worthy candidate than the scatological “Hell For Priests” scroll. Not only is the crowd comprised of a load of naked & variably miserable looking sinners, but a demon is leading them all to a river of excrement. Yes & without a metaphorical paddle. The demon himself, magnificently large & authoritarian, resplendent in nothing but his mawashi, looks to be having a rare old time.

Hell For Priests scroll (12th/13th c. Japan)

More overwrought visions of the underworld are delivered in the form of the medieval awfulness of van Eyck, Bosch & Bruegel’s Hells. These are fantastically Where’s Wallyesque versions of a crowded afterlife, almost enough to make you behave better if you were religious or even superstitious at the time. There is torture & nakedness you can almost smell for the unwilling victims but as a viewer all that poking, biting & skewering is quite honestly hilarious.

 The Garden of Earthly Delights (Hieronymous Bosch)

 The Last Judgment (Jan van Eyck)

Dulle Griet (Pieter Bruegel the Elder)

For a more celestial image of an overly-populated journey to Hell (if you see what I mean), there is William Blake’s vortex of sinners, an illustration for Danté’s Inferno. As you’d expect from Blake it’s beautifully executed & serenely imagined but annoyingly it doesn’t seem like those people are suffering enough, despite their close proximity. They look like they’re getting away with it.

Illustration: The Divine Comedy (William Blake)

Of course, crowded art doesn’t have to be portrayals of Hell nor does it have to be pre-20^th Century. & we can be damned in other senses. For instance, Peter Howson’s image The Massacre of Srebrenica is as overflowing with expression as it is bodies. It very much resembles the crammed abyss images of the Middle Ages & perhaps Howson’s religious background informs the composition & concept.

The Massacre of Srebrenica 2019 (Peter Howson)

Other times, artists submit to the sheer claustrophobia of a crowd. I love the work of photographer Misha Gordin. The pattern & evenness of the figures are very satisfying, but the individuals are objectified, uncomfortable & confined. Often the effect is more design than human photography.

Crowd 54 (Misha Gordin)

But for me, one of the best contemporary painters of the crowds you’d rather not be in is Carl Randall. He represents a similar sense of captivity & lack of choice - even when the setting should be fun – in his crowd paintings of Japan & London. With stunning technique, he manages to capture the loneliness of being in a large group, the kind of isolation that makes you yearn for solitude. Carl is asking uncomfortable questions about & of our times…& that’s before 2020’s state of affairs.

 Tokyo Subway (Carl Randall)

Waterloo Bridge, London (Carl Randall)

When the current situation finally settles down & everything is back to what passes for normal, I hope we will always appreciate what we went through in this time. It might be a New Normal & there will doubtless be impacts we weren’t expecting but it will be good to once again have the choice as to whether the people in our lives deserve massive hugs or further avoidance.

Roppongi Nightclub, Tokyo (Carl Randall)

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