2018 marks the 250th Anniversary of Joseph Wright of Derby’s
magnificent painting “Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump” (see below) and, to
understand its subject, we need to travel back in time to gain a brief
impression of life in England in 1768. Transport was still mainly on rough
roads and tracks, although a canal network was beginning to develop and the
first canals were in operation. These enabled the transport of heavy loads and
provided an effective means of distribution, both essential factors allowing
the Industrial Revolution that was to begin in the 1780s. On the intellectual
front, there was much interest in scientific discoveries, especially those by
Newton, Boyle and Hooke in the latter half of the 17th Century, and Enlightenment
groups met to discuss science and its role in the wider cultural world. It was
a time of great intellectual excitement and the Lunar Circle, founded in 1765,
was an important group of Enlightenment figures that maintained contact through
active correspondence. The group became even more famous in 1775 as the Lunar Society,
holding meetings in the Midlands each month, at the time of the full moon.
Joseph Wright was an associate of the Lunar Circle and was
influenced strongly by the thinking of its members [1]. He was born in 1734,
the fourth child, and third son, of John Wright, an attorney in Derby; a
profession that John had inherited from his father and which he passed on to
this eldest son, also called John. Joseph’s father was nicknamed “Equity
Wright” because of his fairness in the application of the law [2] and one can
imagine that Joseph grew up in an atmosphere of considered values and where
there was much discussion. It is also likely that music also played a part in
family life, as Joseph became a competent flautist and music meant a good deal
to him throughout his life. He had a passion for drawing and became fascinated
by forges, what was made there and the play of light generated by the fire. Joseph
also made models of guns and of “raree shows” (early peepshows) [1] that itinerant
entertainers brought to the town.
Although clearly skilled with his hands, it
was not clear what profession Joseph would follow, as his father was resistant
to him becoming a professional artist. In later life, Joseph suffered from
anxiety and depression [1], so we can imagine that he was a sensitive youth, keen
to follow his passion for drawing and painting. John saw this and changed his
view about his son’s future career, deciding that Joshua needed an expert
teacher. He arranged for him to be apprenticed to Thomas Hudson in London in 1751
[2], who specialised in portraiture and ten years earlier had been the master
of Joshua Reynolds.
From Hudson, Wright learned much about painting technique
and he became an accomplished technical painter, carefully building up pictures
on the canvas and ensuring that there was a good binding between layers [3]. On
returning to Derby, Joseph then began to take commissions for portraits (always
popular among potential clients), returning to Hudson’s studio in 1756 to
further polish his skills. Alongside his work as a portraitist, Joseph continued
his interest in the effects of light on subjects and this reached its peak in
the great painting that is the subject of this essay. In looking at light, he
was strongly influenced by John Whitehurst FRS, a member of the Lunar Circle who
lived in Derby. Whitehurst was a clock and instrument maker who had been
recognised by the Royal Society and, from that august body, learned of
Newton’s studies on optics and much else besides. Whitehurst was expert in his
knowledge of the physical sciences and, being twenty years older than Joshua,
was an authority figure to him. The other major influence on Joshua’s
thinking was Erasmus Darwin [4], who was to move to Derby later in life, but
who lived in Lichfield in the 1760s. Darwin was a physician (he treated Wright),
but was also a poet and an accomplished natural historian. He was an early
exponent of ideas on evolution, although these were sketchy.
With this background, let’s turn to “Experiment on a Bird in
the Air Pump”. Of course, we cannot see the layering of the paint but we are certainly
aware of a strong chiaroscuro, with illumination provided by a candle. We do not
see the flame, nor, of course, do we see any flickering, but we are aware that
the chiaroscuro provides an oval frame for the principal subject matter. The
only objects outside this “frame” are the window, the boy holding the cage, the
hand of the experimenter and (dimly) some features of the room in which the
meeting is taking place. Our gaze is mainly concentrated within this oval frame
and we whizz round the characters, from the experimenter to the others in the
room, stopping to look at them before moving on. A separate “oval of
illumination within the oval” highlights two girls and a gentleman and
verticals within the composition draw us across to see other features.
I have not seen any print-outs of eye movement trackers from those looking at
Wright’s masterpiece, but I would imagine that they would be highly dynamic.
The subject of the painting is a travelling demonstration in
which various Enlightenment topics were to be presented. I imagine that the
show began with a discussion of optics and, especially, of refraction in
fluids. Two jars have sticks in them (see details above) and we see clearly how
these appear broken: the effect of the shape of a curved vessel on their
appearance is also evident. While the jar that is closest to us also contains a
cloudy fluid, and an object that is difficult to define, the jar to the right,
which has had its cork removed, contains a stick that appears to be a cut-down
quill. Drawing up liquid in the hollow quill, using it like a contemporary drinking
straw, introduced the audience to the idea of the effect of lowered pressure on
fluids and the power of atmospheric pressure. This led to one of the central
themes of the painting – the use of an air pump. The one illustrated was
probably designed by Hauksbee and consisted of two cylinders, each of which contained
a piston. By turning the handle on the pump, a link caused the pistons to move
up and down and, because valves were present, air was drawn out of any chamber
to which the tube of the air pump was attached. Air pumps played a vital role
in 17th Century science, leading to important demonstrations of the role of air
in affecting the fall of objects (feathers falling at the same rate as coins);
combustion (a lit taper becomes extinguished in a vacuum); and the effect of
vacuum on sound, but not light (light passing through a vacuum but not sound).
The first experiment with the air pump was to demonstrate
the power of atmospheric pressure using Magdeburg hemispheres. These are seen
on the table (see above) and the demonstration began by holding the two hemispheres
together while the tube from the air pump was attached to the side of the resultant
sphere. A vacuum was then created and the tap of the connection closed so that
it was maintained. It is probable that the evacuated sphere was then passed
around the audience and no-one would have been able to pull the two hemispheres
apart. On releasing the vacuum, the pressure equalised between the hemispheres
and the surrounding air, and they could be separated easily, perhaps to the
astonishment of some, but not all, of the audience.
The second experiment with the air pump was a demonstration
of the effect of a lack of air on life – a biological experiment. I imagine that
there was much discussion among the group about life and our failure to define
it (something we still have difficulty with) and the subject of the experiment was
a cockatoo that had been removed from its cage (above the boy on the right).
The unfortunate bird was placed into the glass chamber and the experimenter’s
assistant (who has his side to us, see above) began to turn the handle of the air pump. The
first thing noticed by the audience would be that the squawking of the bird became less
audible as the vacuum was formed and the cockatoo's panic became less as it began to
suffocate. At this point, I imagine that the assistant, who was timing the experiment,
used the snuffer in front of him to put out the candle flame and the room would
then have darkened, to be lit only by moonlight. The experimenter then gently
allowed air into the vessel (we see his hand poised on the valve before the
candle is extinguished, see below), the candle was re-lit by means of a taper and there was
much relief that the bird was able to recover and eventually be placed back in
its cage. For a time, just before the candle was snuffed, it was not known what
the result would be and the painting shows us the expressions of the audience
at this moment of maximum tension. Let’s consider their reactions.
The experimenter strikes a dramatic pose that one would
expect at the moment before the candle is snuffed. He challenges us by staring
straight from the painting, with his hand outstretched. The person that I
recognise as the experimenter’s assistant is focused on proceedings (as he
needs to be) and seems dispassionate, while the boy to his left is focussed on
the fate of the bird, with some anticipation and excitement. The gentleman at
the bottom right is clearly contemplating death and he is fixed on the memento
mori [2] provided by the skull-like, but amorphous, object in the jar at the
front of the table. He has a walking stick with him, not an elegant cane, and
we assume that he needs this for support and that he is feeling the effects of
age. The couple at the left upper of the painting seem rather detached and one
can imagine that they are a couple who are out for an evening’s entertainment,
while mainly being interested in each other. One can almost imagine the man
making a cheeky comment or two during proceedings and his thoughts may well have
been on things other than the possible death of the bird: perhaps on events
that result in new human lives coming into existence? In contrast to his
apparent nonchalance, the two girls on the right show distress and anxiety at
what is happening and they are being comforted by the gentleman who gives the
impression that he has seen the experiment before and knows that the bird will
not die. The linking of the girls’ arms, and the oval of light that bathes
them, stresses the strength of their feelings; the hand around the shoulder
of the elder girl provides reassurance. One might ask what young girls are
doing at an evening of this kind, something that becomes clearer when the
symbolism of the work is explored in the next part of this essay.
Thus far, we have taken the painting at face value, but
it also reminds us of many Christian religious works. Let’s consider some
of the imagery in the painting from this standpoint and think about how this
links to Enlightenment thinking on the importance of science and of scientific
experiments. The evening then becomes one of “worship”. The candle flame
illuminates everything and this is a parallel to the Light of the World of Christianity.
We now have an an explanation for the presence of the girls, as we know from
Luke’s Gospel chapter 18 verse 16 that we should “suffer little children to
come unto me”. This applies to the new knowledge in science, just as it does to
the Christian religion, and the gentleman reassuring the girls thus has the
role, and demeanour, of a cleric. The disinterested couple are so involved with themselves
that neither religion or science is likely to touch them that evening and the
elderly gentleman in the foreground knows that death is approaching, however we
understand that event.
The experimenter has been
identified as John Whitehurst [2], but the long grey hair and angular features bear
a resemblance to the image of Sir Isaac Newton painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller
in 1689. While this might be coincidental, it does make a connection in our
minds. Newton was recognised in Wright’s time (and ours) as having made extraordinary
advances in optics (the early part of the demonstration in the painting) and
other branches of the physical sciences and mathematics and thus would have an
almost theistic status among some Enlightenment thinkers. Although he was an
egomaniac, this role would not have gone down well with Newton himself, as he
was a Christian, even though years of intense scholarship resulted in doubts about
some of the tenets of the Christian Church [5]. Our experimenter certainly
controls the life and death of the bird and his hand, at the uppermost part of
the painting, is like the hand of God (see above).
The most important symbol in the painting is the cockatoo
and one wonders whether such a bird would have been risked in the demonstration.
Cockatoos come originally from what we now call Australasia and Indonesia and there
are several species, the commonest of which is the sulphur-crested cockatoo.
The bird in the painting lacks a yellow crest and appears to be the same bird
that Wright had painted five years before in his portrait of Mr and Mrs Chase
(see above). Cockatoos are known to live for many decades, even a
hundred years being possible, and the bird in the experiment would have been a
cherished pet. In addition to much squawking, cockatoos are also known to mimic
sounds, including human voices, so it is probable that the bird in the
experiment “talked” a few words (that is likely to have been understood by
those observing the painting, even if its presence is an invention). It must
have been rare and, no doubt, expensive, and hardly likely to be risked in a
real experiment. White cockatoos were found in Europe
in much earlier times and their long life may have allowed them to be traded
along old trade routes like the Silk Road, having been obtained originally from
people selling spices from southern Asia. Interestingly, the painting by Andrea
Mantegna of “Madonna della Vittoria” sees the Virgin sitting in a bower that
has birds sitting in the trellis-work. One of the these is clearly a white
cockatoo – and this in a work from 1496 (see below, with detail).
The boy on the right of the illuminated group looks out, and
up, from the painting and holds the rope of the empty cage. Like the rest of
the audience, he wonders whether the bird will be returned and, at the moment
the candle is snuffed, he will be brightly illuminated by the moonlight
streaming through the window. This leads us further into the religious
symbolism of the work. A white bird, usually a dove, is used as a convention to
represent the Holy Spirit and we know from St John’s Gospel; chapter 14 verse
16 that Christ tells his Disciples that, after He leaves them, they will be
comforted by a counsellor, widely interpreted as being the Holy Spirit. In the
original Greek, the counsellor is termed parakletos and, in Wright’s day, the
term paraclete was a familiar term for the Holy Spirit. As a cockatoo is rather
like a parakeet (a term known to be used from the 16th Century), and can mimic
human speech, is it too much of a stretch in imagination to think that we are
looking at the symbolic threat to the idea of the Holy Spirit by the
discoveries of scientific experiments? Certainly,
the moonlight suggests that the Lunar Circle and Enlightenment thinking had a part
to play in asking this question. We know that Erasmus Darwin, a major
influence on Wright, tended toward atheism [4] (although care is needed in interpreting
that term) and perhaps his influence is being demonstrated here? We do not know
whether Wright was a theist, but it is likely as he was probably a Freemason
and Whitehurst, his mentor, was certainly an active Mason [2].
“Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump” suggests that we are
witnessing the beginnings of a conflict between science and religion in the
late 1700s. The Christian Church held immense power for centuries up to the Enlightenment,
but scientific discoveries and, even more importantly, their application to
industrial processes, was having an effect on this power. Another jolt was to
come 90 years after Wright’s painting when Charles Darwin (Erasmus Darwin’s
grandson) published “The Origin of Species” in 1859. In the contemporary world,
we have strongly materialist societies and the Christian religion is losing its
significance (although other religions, each with their own moral code, are
increasing their influence,). As Science moves to ever more mechanistic
approaches – we are now threatened with Quantum Biology, for example – there is
belief that this will provide more and more answers. For sure, there will be
useful spin-offs, just like there have been from studies in genetics, but the demeaning
of pure research as being “blue sky”, and the blind growth of mechanism looks
to me to bear the threat of a new Dark Age. I wonder how Wright’s painting will
be viewed in 250 years’ time? Perhaps theistic explanations will be favoured
and those of science found wanting – the reverse of the position anticipated by
Wright’s painting?
[1] William Bemrose (1885) The Life and Works of Joseph Wright, A.R.A., commonly called “Wright of
Derby.” London, Bemrose and Sons
[2] Stephen Daniels (2002) Joseph Wright. London, Tate Gallery Publishing.
[3] Rica Jones (1990) Wright of Derby’s techniques of
painting. In: Wright of Derby (ed.
Judy Egerton). London, Tate Gallery Publishing.
[4] David Fraser (1990) Joseph Wright of Derby and the Lunar
Society. In: Wright of Derby (ed.
Judy Egerton). London, Tate Gallery Publishing.
[5] Richard Westfall (1993) The Life of Isaac Newton. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
I was invited to give a Lunchtime Talk on Joseph Wright of
Derby’s “Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump” at the National Gallery in
London in October 2018. This essay provides the background to the talk and a
flavour of its content.
For a larger image of the painting, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/An_Experiment_on_a_Bird_in_the_Air_Pump#/media/File:An_Experiment_on_a_Bird_in_an_Air_Pump_by_Joseph_Wright_of_Derby,_1768.jpg
I would like to thank Paul Ranford and Matthew Morgan for conversations
that have influenced my ideas and Lucy Bamford for pointing out typographical errors in the original post..
For those wanting to know more about Joseph Wright, Stephen Daniels’
book [2] provides an excellent, and accessible, review of the artist and his
influences.
