John Constable, born in 1776 and just a year after J.M.W Turner, never achieved the fame or success of his well-regarded contemporary. While his paintings eventually garnered more favorable reception, it took Constable’s indefatigable spirit to contend with the jagged ups and downs of a life devoted to his own vision. Both professionally and personally, he faced a plethora of obstacles (though some of his own doing). And as is true of many artists, he constantly had to grind, adapt, and persevere in order to survive.
At times, this meant conforming to the standards of the day, which emanated from the Royal Academy. But Constable, always a bit of a contrarian, never let the world around him dictate his underlying approach to art.
It’s primarily from this vantage point that Constable: A Country Rebel examines one of Britain’s most important landscape artists. Produced by the BBC and presented by Alastair Sooke, it covers the artistic boldness and biographical highlights of the man whose work is “embedded deep within the English psyche.”
At first glance, however, it may not seem as though there’s anything daring at all about the work of Constable, let alone that which might be deemed rebellious. He painted some of the “sweetest visions of rural England,” and one can find his work on tea towels and jigsaw puzzles, as Sooke points out. But examine his paintings more closely — and the context in which they were painted — and something emerges that is indeed against the grain of the time.
Ironically, Constable might easily not have become a painter at all. Born to a prosperous rural merchant, the young Constable’s future seemed firmly set in the tracks of commerce. But the tides changed when he had the fortuitous chance to view a collection of art which included paintings by the French 17th-century artist, Claude Lorrain. Hooked by what he saw, his passionate desire to pursue a life of art took root.
A few years later and Constable was off to the acclaimed Royal Academy. It was there in London, beginning in 1799, that he learned and experienced much in the way of both the practice and theory of art. But it was also within the hallowed confines of the school that he learned his artistic tastes clashed against the trends of the time.
As Sooke tells us, landscape painting was seen “as the very lowest genre of art,” far below the esteemable subject matter of historical scenes. But Constable’s raison d’etre as a painter was nature; it was the beautiful and inspiring scenes of his native Suffolk county which compelled him more than anything to pick up a brush. So, after exiting the Royal Academy in 1802 — and also rejecting the offer of a post — Constable turned to what he desired most: studying and painting nature.
It’s this kind of bold (albeit somewhat stubborn) decision-making that would come to characterize Constable throughout nearly the whole of his career. His unfailing dedication to capturing nature as it is — including undergoing careful studies of the clouds — meant that he honed those artistic abilities which mattered most to him. (Along with his cloud studies, he also dedicated himself to sketching outdoors with oil paints — an immensely difficult task.) But his headstrong habits also meant he struggled financially.
Kept afloat by his father for many years, he eventually tried something different. By producing large canvases — the trend of the time — Constable received some of the critical acceptance which he sought. Known as his “six footer paintings,” some were especially well received, including the work for which is most well-known today, The Hay Wain. It was critically acclaimed at the Salon des Beaux-Arts in France, and earned him a gold medal from no less than Charles X.
But there’s an odd thing about Constable — something which almost excuses the rather dry and unexciting nature of this otherwise solid film. Constable is not a very likeable figure. Sooke describes him as having a contradictory nature, and that’s putting it mildly. Constable’s response to the flowering praise of the French, for instance, was outright scorn, something even bordering on animus. He expressed his utter distaste for France and strongly declared that he never wanted to go there.
Whatever psychological reasons were behind this rather grotesque behavior, there are plenty of traits that we can admire about Constable the artist.
As we learn throughout the film, his pushback against the trends of the day took him into exciting — and sometimes new — territory. His ardent devotion to en plein air oil painting makes him a kind of precursor to the French Impressionists. And his determination to paint the scenery of his native Suffolk county was a bold act when others were wont to paint historical subject matter. Furthermore, he eschewed populating his scenic paintings with nymphs or satyrs. As one commentator in the film nicely puts it, Constable “develop[ed] a new language to painting that isn’t rooted in Italy and it isn’t rooted in neoclassicism.”
Indeed Constable’s art was his own. It was an approach and method that came after years of struggle, but ultimately would influence various movements after his death.
Spectatio 