As an art historian, there is an unspoken ‘law’ about certain works of art that one is required to appreciate.  Eugène Delacroix’s Scene of the Massacre at Chios is one such painting.  It hangs large and proud in one of the galleries of 19th-century French painting at the Musée du Louvre (1st floor, Denon wing) [@MuseeLouvre on Twitter] but every time I’ve seen the painting, something about it repels me and I’ve finally figured out what it is.

Eugène Delacroix, Scene of the Massacre at Chios, 1824, oil on canvas.  Musée du Louvre, Paris

Like most people, I suffer from ‘museum fatigue’ after spending hours in stuffy corridors listening to people pontificate nonsensically, and sometimes sensibly, about the ‘facts’ of art history.  By the time I reach Delacroix’s painting, I don’t even want to hear about the Greek/Ottoman conflict that inspired the painting, I don’t want to listen to sappy quotes from Lord Byron’s poetry, I’m not interested in the Salon of 1824, and I certainly don’t care to be berated with anecdotes about how this painting was the first to be called romantic (in the early 19th-century sense of the word).  Ok, so maybe I do actually like being entertained with these ‘facts,’ mainly because it reassures me that I ‘know’ something about art.

Try as I might, one figure grouping in Delacroix’s painting has always repelled me from engaging with the work through extended viewing or close analysis.  But thanks to the modern marvels of technology, I have spent more time looking at this painting on my computer than I ever have in the museum.  I expect that this confession resonates with everyone on some level, but the epistemological and ethical concerns that this confession raise will have to wait for another type of entry.  The detail that repels me is below.  What’s your reaction?

Is it the man’s posture or expression that forces me to look away?  Is it the tear that runs down the woman’s hand?  Is it the fact that, although Delacroix purports to represent a contemporary event of inhumane proportions, he reaches back to a long visual tradition to pose the fallen Greek as a Christ-like figure (complete with a strategically placed cloth)?  I’m not sure, but it’s probably a combination of all of these.  Having spent some time now looking at the painting on my computer, I spotted another couple that I have never noticed before and they are even more frightening.

How sinister is that guy?  How creepy is his bloodshot eye?  Perhaps it’s the sense of humanity and of struggle that repels me.  I wouldn’t consider myself prudish where art is concerned, but this work leaves me unsettled (and in all honesty it is quite sterile considering the subject matter!).

There are many poignant vignettes united in the overall composition of Delacroix’s painting.  I’d like to share some details with you and would love to have as much feedback as possible from readers to know your reaction to the painting.

The above detail is to me the most Delacroix-esque aspect of the painting.  It presents the epitome of his ‘Orientalist’ vision in painting, a reality that is a blend of real/imagined and of power/submission.  This dialectic fed the appetite of European art lovers throughout the 19th century.

This small segment of the painting reminded me that up to this point in the history of art, the subject of a massacre is not often represented beyond the biblical story in which the first born boys are slaughtered under order of King Herod (the so-called massacre of the innocents).  Thus, Delacroix’s painting was in that way revolutionary (in addition to a myriad of other qualities, like his use of brilliant colors, the intense expressions of suffering, the meditative harmony that comes from viewing a horrifying act, etc.).

This close-up detail could itself be mistaken for a massacre of the innocents scene (complete with the token hair-pulling guy).

A touch of sentimentality in the midst of strife.

And last but not least, there is one figure who has absolutely captivated my attention.  Her expression is tender and the way in which Delacroix painted her is truly beautiful (for lack of a more sophisticated word).

What are your thoughts about the painting, its execution, content, or the artist himself?  Can a massacre be beautiful or are the ‘beautiful’ aspects in Delacroix’s painting inherently contradictory to the subject?