Venice – Canaletto and his Rivals at the National Gallery

Venice – Canaletto and his Rivals at the National Gallery

26 October, 2010
by: Tom Jeffreys

The National Gallery examines the forging of great reputations, for both an artist and a city. Tom Jeffreys is intrigued.

When I went to Venice back in about 2004, I did what any tourist does and read a guidebook on the plane over, the opening sentence of which has, for varying reasons, stayed with me. It said: “Nobody ever sees Venice for the first time”. More than any other city, Venice is already ingrained deep in the popular consciousness – everyone has an image of Venice.

This, as Venice - Canaletto and his Rivals at the National Gallery points out, is due in large part to the prolific work of Canaletto and his contemporaries in the eighteenth century. These works – often commissioned by British tourists – forged an image of Venice that has remained pretty consistent ever since: a wealthy, grand, timeless place of prosperity and elegance.

But of course, origins – particularly those of such self-conscious or agenda-driven reputation/image-making – are always problematic, as Room 1 here makes immediately clear. The exhibition opens by contrasting an early Canaletto of 1722 with a work form just seven years later. Already though, his style has altered radically, atrophied you might say. The broader, heavier, more direct personalities of these earlier works swiftly give way to something more structured, coldly analytical and architectural. It's the city, not its people, that come to the fore.

Repetition is always already potentially pastiche, and it's through repetition that Canaletto (and indeed Venice) became a caricature: the rugged energy of early works like the Entrance to Grand Canal (1723), Rio dei Mendicati (1723) and The Stonemason's Yard (1725) – with their sombre, forlorn (even more real?) atmosphere – gives way to the stilted Enlightenment vision of a pristine Venice of order and deathly calm. Views of Campo San Salvador (1736) for example, and the Piazza San Marco (1731), seem almost like stage sets, populated by dinky little figurines. They're impressive technical excercises designed to forge reputations, both for the artist and for Venice.

In this context, the works of Francesco Guardi (and one by Marieschi) come as a breath of fresh air – or rather a lungfull of sweat and grime. I don't want to overstate the contrast between the two: like Canaletto, Guardi's work is also carefully composed, packed with delicacy and detail, but there's something more here too – an energy perhaps, or something that resists The Enlightenment rush to rationalise. Something human, we might call it. Take The Grand Canal with the Rialto Bridge, from the South (1780) – darker, smudgier figures bow and stoop, there's something ramshackle in the architecture. By now Venice is a city slipping into decline, and Guardi is there to sketch the strain.

This is not to say however that gritty realism is always good, (and Guardi's certainly not 'gritty') or that Canaletto isn't a great artist – grandly stilted can be good too. Even some later works like Bacino di San Marco (1738-9) are geuinely astounding, as the eye zips into a morass of rigging, masts and sails, all these angles and lines carved with a brush as sharp as a scythe. It's just that repetition, especially on this scale, can become problematic – distancing, stultifying.

This is a point made subtly but persistently throughout the show, which examines (tangentially at least) both Canaletto's far-reaching influence, and the broader question of what it means to become a popular artist. One might make a case that the 'greatness' of a work of art is inversely proportional to the ease or frequency of repetition. I'm not sure though: perhaps once could also make the opposite point just as convincingly. Either way, Venice – Canaletto and his Rivals is a sensitive and surprisingly thought-provoking show. 

Venice - Canaletto and his Rivals is at the National Gallery until 16th January 2011. 

Click here to see all London exhibitions.
Click here for things to do in London.

Return to Spoonfed's London Art homepage.

Image credit: MNAC – Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, Barcelona. On permanent loan from Colección Thyssen-Bornemisza

Tom Jeffreys