Antoine Wiertz was a Belgian romantic painter who had a taste for the macabre. Therefore, I enjoy his work and thought you would, as well.

Antoine Wiertz Self Portrait

La jeune Sorcière , (The Young Sorceress or The Young Witch), 1857. Now witches are typically thought of as being sexy (Hermione Granger) or benevolent, wise women (Professor McGonagall), if they’re crazy evil, they’re still crazy hot (Bellatrix Lestrange). But back in the day, witches were either ugly old hags or beautiful temptresses after your manhood. They also, curiously, tended to be either single women with property men wanted or were considered to be useless to society and, therefore, a drain on resources and expendable.

During this time, witches were believed to travel to meetings with the Devil on broomsticks naked. Sometimes rubbing the broomstick with special herbs and oils to make it magical before swinging a leg over and hitching it right up there. No sexual symbolism there, though.

I couldn’t find background on this painting but I like to think the trainee witch is trying out brooms and the hag is saying, ‘Hmm. No, I don’t think this one is going to work.’

‘The Young Witch’ Antoine Wiertz 1857

L’Inhumation précipitée, or The Premature Burial, 1854. Back in the day, it wasn’t uncommon for people to be buried prematurely (how difficult wass it to take a pulse or hold a mirror under a nose, ffs?). So, you may be in the unfortunate position of waking up and realising that you are in an unfortunate position, so to speak. The fellow below was a cholera victim and I don’t know why he looks so frightened. They didn’t nail down the lid and he can easily move the casket at the other end of his. Talk about being ungrateful for small gifts. You’re still alive, man.

‘The Premature Burial’ Antoine Wiertz 1854

Une tête coupée , or The Guillotined Head, 1855. Wiertz also had a thing about decapitation. He lived during the time when the guillotine was becoming a popular method of execution, as it was thought to be more humane than hanging, but some believed that the brain was aware of what was happening for several seconds (some believed entire minutes) after decapitation occurred. This post by Mike Dash gives loads of information about both the beliefs about post-beheading consciousness and Wiertz’s own fascination with decapitation. Wiertz thought he could go inside the consciousness of a person being decapitated and experience his last moments. Yeah.

A Guillotined Head Antoine Wiertz 1855

A Severed Head (I couldn’t find the French title of this and it is undated) is a quick study.The duel blood spurts sell it, I think.

A Severed Head Antoine Wiertz Undated

La Belle Rosine or The Beautiful Rosina, 1847. This is one of those obligatory ‘we’re all going to die, let’s juxtapose death and beauty, decay and voluptuousness’ paintings artists did for awhile. A few things catch my eye, though. First, the skeleton has no legs or arms; I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does. Secondly, I know there were social problems at the time, but I wouldn’t mind living in an era when being pale was considered beautiful. Yes, Rosina is pale in order to contrast the darkness of the skeleton, but she’s also pale because that was considered beautiful in the 1800s. That trend can make a comeback any time now. Third, I love the expression on her face, the chin slightly down and the eyes up-the coyness. It looks like she’s hoping he’s going to ask her out for Friday night. ‘I might be free. If you manage to find some legs of some description, perhaps I’ll let you take me out.’

At least she doesn’t have to worry about him getting too handsy.

‘The Beautiful Rosina’ by Antoine Wiertz 1847

Faim la folie et le crime or The Hunger, the Madness & the Crime, 1857. The title of this one explains everything you need to know and I get that the expression on the woman’s face is one of madness, but the position of her hands say, to my mind, ‘But of course! I was supposed to add the butter before the baby legs!’ That’s right. I’ve just made a baby cannibalism joke. If I ever run for any public office ever, this is the thing that will be quoted at me, I’m sure. And my response will be, ‘Well, if you put the butter in after it makes it too greasy.’

‘Faim la folie et le crime’ (The Hunger, the Madness & the Crime) Antoine Wiertz 1857

If this post hasn’t put you off Wiertz entirely and you’d like to see his work in person, there’s a museum devoted to his works in Brussels. One of my favourite parts of the Wikipedia article on Wiertz are the quotes about the museum.

• “If you’re into the shocking or nasty, it [the museum] may appeal.”
  
• “In recent years the Wiertz Museum has attracted an average of just ten visitors a day … The Belgian state is legally stuck with all 220 of his [Wiertz’] works—dreadful though most of them are—and an obligation to display them forever. … [Wiertz was] perhaps the worst painter to have a government-funded museum all to himself, at least in the free world …”
  

The Wiertz Museum in the Leopold section of Brussels

Now I really want to see his works in person. I want to be part of the ten percent!

Bonus info: If you’re curious about the dimensions of some of the gargantuan paintings up there, check out this more academic review of Wiertz’s work and an overview of his life by Graham Reid.

‘The Triumph of the Guillotine in Hell’ Nicolas-Antoine Taunay

For fans of Bosch and Dante, I present Nicolas-Antoine Taunay’s ‘The Triumph of the Guillotine in Hell’. It’s a large image so go ahead and click on it and take in the full view of the… yeah. It’s… special.

I enjoy the two-headed snake and the winged guy in the middle and the skeletonised bird thing in the right upper quadrant. And there’s some really interesting things happening over on the left upper quadrant, as well. The demon that’s catching a lift on the back of the …other demon’s…demon… isn’t very horizontal so they must not be going very fast so I wonder how they’re staying in the air. Physics must work differently there.

Just below them there are a couple wings guys, one of which has a big horn and he looks so bummed out. Perhaps he’s going to play a concert for the big guy himself and he’s always so judgmental and it’s such a drag . Or maybe the horn is really heavy. Or maybe he just has bad posture.

In in the middle upper part, I’m curious about the dude allowed to bring his paints and easel with him, as you’d think a note pad and pen would be much quicker when tasked to capture the everlasting torments of eternity. (Either that or someone allowed him to grab his tools when he was being dragged to Hell, which was nice of the dragger.) And this was painted in the 1800s but I swear that’s a member of Devo with the painter guy.

But my absolute favourite people are the ones by the skeletonised bird thing because they’re just humans, but they are not being tormented in any way. They’re just hanging around. Just being casual. The guy and his woman with their backs to us look like they’re laughing. ‘Oh ho, another jolly day in Hell! What fun it is to be young and French and dead and… haha!’ They’re clothes aren’t even mussed. Do they have tailors down there?

And then there’s Hell’s version of Statler and Waldorf up there in the very far upper right. You just know they’re cracking the filthiest jokes in all of Christendom.

I don’t think Taunay was a fan of the ol’ close shave, overall, though.

My Google-fu is lacking at the best of times and it’s really failing me now, (which is why I’m being a smart-arse rather than telling you anything useful) as I can’t find anything to help me out with this painting. I’d love to know more about it so if you know something or know somewhere I can look, please leave a comment. And thank you.

[And because we live now, you can get this piece of social commentary as a heart-shaped Christmas ornament from Zazzle because of course or an iPhone case . I mean, why not, right? It would be like putting a heart-shaped ornament on your tree commemorating lethal injection or something… What would that look like? The bed they strap the condemned to, perhaps attached to your tree by the three IV lines they insert in their veins? Merry freakin Christmas. I’m macabre but there’s a line, people.]

From the excellent, and quite rude, Cyanide and Happiness.