Tag Archives: Piranesi

Giovanni Piranesi’s Imaginary Prisons (1761)

Venice had been one of the great trad­ing pow­ers of medieval and Renais­sance Europe, but by the 18th-cen­tu­ry its polit­i­cal domin­ion was wan­ing. Although past its hey­day, the repub­lic still pos­sessed great appeal to the emerg­ing tourist mar­ket; it was a pre­em­i­nent des­ti­na­tion for the thou­sands of promi­nent young adult males embark­ing on the “Grand Tour”. Cap­i­tal­is­ing on the tourists’ desire to secure a memen­to, there devel­oped the genre of view paint­ing, spawn­ing a pletho­ra of paint­ings of the Rial­to Bridge, the Grand Canal and St Mark’s Square, by the likes of Canalet­to, Bel­lot­to, and the Guar­di broth­ers.

As well as real city views, the artists some­times liked to let their fan­cy fly and paint imag­i­nary views (capric­ci) that placed build­ings, archae­o­log­i­cal ruins and oth­er archi­tec­tur­al ele­ments togeth­er in fic­tion­al and often fan­tas­ti­cal com­bi­na­tions. The name of one such artist, Gio­van­ni Bat­tista Pirane­si, is not par­tic­u­lar­ly well-known these days but nonethe­less left to his­to­ry a series of etch­ings whose influ­ence is felt to this day: the so-called Imag­i­nary Pris­ons (Le Carceri).

These pris­ons of Piranesi’s imag­i­na­tion were dark, labyrinthine depic­tions of a night­mare world. Ever since they were pub­lished — the first edi­tion in the late 1740s, the sec­ond, even dark­er one in 1761 — Pirane­si’s images have inspired design­ers, writ­ers and archi­tects alike. We can see ele­ments of them in Fritz Lang’s Metrop­o­lis and in Michael Rad­ford’s adap­ta­tion of George Orwell’s 1984. The etch­ings fore­shad­ow M C Escher’s play­ful explo­rations of per­spec­tive, and we can even see their influ­ence in the mov­ing stair­cas­es at Hog­warts.

Pirane­si’s prison inte­ri­ors have no out­er walls; each vista is cut off only by the frame of the image itself. The spaces are large and con­tin­u­ous: they may not even be inte­ri­ors; this may be a city that has grown into a world, where inte­ri­or and exte­ri­or are no longer defin­able. We see strange devices sug­ges­tive of tor­ture: wheels with spikes, pul­leys, bas­kets big enough to con­tain a per­son. You don’t quite know how they work, or what the think­ing could be behind them. Pris­on­ers under­go mys­te­ri­ous tor­ments, chained to posts, whilst high above them spec­ta­tors gath­er on a ver­tig­i­nous walk­way. It is impos­si­ble to tell at times who is a pris­on­er, who a guard, who a vis­i­tor, and in the end you sus­pect that every­one in this place is a pris­on­er.

Some of Pirane­si’s Imag­i­nary Pris­ons:

…and some exam­ples of their influ­ence in mod­ern cul­ture: