William Harnett (1848-1892) was an Irish-American painter of the nineteenth century, whose fame may not have withstood the passage of time very well but who nonetheless was responsible for some excellent work in the trompe l’œil still life genre. Trompe l’œil, meaning “deceive the eye” in French, is a style of painting that seeks to create a highly realistic, three-dimensional depiction of objects, using perspectival illusionism.
The Old Violin is one of Harnett’s most famous paintings and a superb example of painted realism. The subject is deceptively simple; a violin, rendered in actual size, a sheet of music, a small newspaper clipping, and a blue envelope are shown against a background formed by a green and rusty-hinged wooden door. It created a sensation when first exhibited at the Cincinnati Industrial Exposition in 1886, where viewers were enthralled by the technical virtuosity of the picture. A local newspaper reported that “a policeman stands by it constantly, lest people reach over and attempt to see if the newspaper clipping is genuine by tearing it off”.
Along with other Harnett pictures that convincingly tricked viewers’ perceptions, The Old Violin aroused considerable contemporary debate about the aesthetics of imitative artwork. The genre is hardly unprecedented, however – there’s a great little story in Greek myth about the 5th century BC contest between painters Zeuxis and Parrhasius. The contest was to determine which of the two was the most realistic painter. When Zeuxis unveiled his painting of grapes, they appeared so real that birds flew down to peck at them. But when Parrhasius, whose painting was concealed behind a curtain, asked Zeuxis to pull aside that curtain, the curtain itself turned out to be a painted illusion, and Parrhasius won the contest.
Back to The Old Violin…note how every element of grain and worn area of the violin is reproduced in impeccable detail. The age of the violin is clearly key; as Harnett himself said: “As a rule, new things do not paint well; I want my models to have the mellowing effect of age”. Well said!
The painting is currently held in the National Gallery of Art, Washington DC, and, although there is no longer a need for it to be guarded from touch by a less credulous audience of modern times, I for one will pay my regards to this charming still life should I ever be passing through Washington.
any luck, Margaret? I have one, too