by usia review

In 1909, on the outskirts of Madrid, the final physical trace of Francisco de Goya’s life in the Spanish capital was quietly erased. The Quinta del Sordo—the villa owned by the painter during his final, reclusive years in Spain—was demolished after more than three decades of neglect.

Contrary to popular belief, the estate’s name (The House of the Deaf Man) was not a nod to Goya’s own profound deafness; it belonged to the previous owner. Yet, inside those walls, Goya would conjure what is arguably the most hauntingly famous series in the history of Western art: the Pinturas Negras (The Black Paintings). Named for their somber palettes and terrifying themes, they stand as a raw reflection of the dark times Goya endured before self-exiling to France in 1824.

From Fresco to Canvas: A Fractured Legacy

The 15 Pinturas Negras were originally conceived between 1819 and 1823 as private, domestic decorations for Goya’s dining room. Following his death, the estate passed to his son and later to his grandson, Mariano, who sold the property in 1854. By 1867, French writer Charles Yriarte noted that one of the paintings had already been ripped from the wall, leaving only 14 intact.

The true turning point arrived in 1873 when the estate was purchased by Baron Émile d’Erlanger. The French banker, alongside Salvador Martínez Cubells—a restorer from the Museo del Prado—embarked on a radical project: transferring Goya’s murals onto canvas using a aggressive technique known as strappo.

The Cost of Restoration: The strappo technique literally peels the paint layer from the plaster and glues it to canvas—a brutal process that heavily compromised the original works. What millions of visitors marvel at today in the Prado is not pure Goya, but a heavy, intensive restoration layered over the artist's ruined frescoes.

When d’Erlanger failed to sell the canvases to the Louvre or at the 1878 Paris International Exhibition, he ultimately donated them to the Prado, where they remain a staggering draw today.

A TIMELINE OF THE BLACK PAINTINGS 1819–1823 ── Goya paints 15 murals at Quinta del Sordo. 1854 ── Grandson Mariano Goya sells the estate. 1867 ── Writer Charles Yriarte notes 1 painting is missing. 1874–1878 ── Murals are violently transferred to canvas via "strappo." 1881 ── Baron d'Erlanger donates the 14 works to the Museo del Prado.

A Portrait of a Bitter Soul

While the specific themes of the paintings vary, they are all uniformly pitch-black, deeply disturbing, and emotionally agonizing. As Goya’s physical deafness worsened and the domestic political situation in Spain grew increasingly hostile, with the painter facing intense opposition from the newly installed French government, he spiraled into a state of constant, severe depression. Isolated from society and receiving few to no visitors at his country villa, Goya turned the Pinturas Negras into a personal refuge from a world that had become unlivable.

A unique artistic universe populated by witches, disfigured characters, and Dantesque scenarios had already emerged in Goya's earlier print series, such as Los Caprichos, The Disasters of War, and Los Disparates. However, the Black Paintings represent the absolute zenith of this deeply personal, somber style. Within the series, we see distinct nods to classical culture in Las Parcas, which depicts the Fates, references to Catholic tradition in Asmodea, depictions of local Madrid folklore in Romería de San Isidro, and glimpses of everyday life in Mujeres riendo.

Yet, regardless of the explicit subject matter, every piece features poorly defined figures that stand completely apart from any traditional canon of beauty. They are enveloped by equally distorted settings and melting landscapes, as if every scene is unfolding in a surreal world where Goya forcefully traps his audience. There are moments of extreme, graphic violence, such as Duelo a Garrotazos, or Fight with Cudgels, and Saturno devorando a su hijo, or Saturn Devouring His Son, which serve as a stark reflection of the systemic violence that plagued Goya's own life.

Ultimately, these murals serve as the portrait of a bitter, lost soul who was profoundly debilitated both physically and mentally. Remarkably, these were the very images Goya chose to decorate his dining room, which was the central space where he spent a massive portion of his life and regularly received his guests. This choice offers a haunting insight into the true state of mind of the Spanish master. Perhaps this intense privacy explains why he left absolutely no written records, journals, or explanations of them. We only know who authored them and the general timeline of their creation; even the titles used today were entirely suggested by later art historians.

The Ultimate Ethical Question

This specific series is arguably the most significant of Goya's life. While it may not be his most commercially famous, it is the one where his raw personality and unfiltered psychology are laid bare. It remains a crucial key to understanding the painter's life, his evolving art, and his tragic story. However, more than two centuries after their creation, the collection raises a purely ethical dilemma: Is it right to exhibit masterpieces, regardless of their art-historical importance, against the implicit will of the artist who created them?

Goya painted these works strictly for himself, directly onto the plaster of his home, never intending for them to leave those four private walls. They were not public commissions, nor were they born out of an artistic obligation to document a historical event, which drove most of his other famous works. These paintings show Goya in his purest, most vulnerable form, representing a side of himself he never intended to broadcast to the world. Given that context, having this entire series on permanent public display today is highly questionable from a moral standpoint.

To raise this point is not to advocate for the removal of the Pinturas Negras from public view; without them, the global art community would be infinitely poorer. Rather, it is an invitation to question the sovereignty of the individual creator within an art world that has become increasingly voracious, commercialized, and volatile. The exhibition of these works, entirely devoid of any context or notes left by Goya, and executed despite every historical indicator suggesting he wanted them kept private, presents a complex problem with no easy answer. Yet, it is a necessary conversation. It is vital to remember that without artists, art cannot exist, and the absolute minimum we can do is respect their wishes, even if that means occasionally sacrificing a masterpiece to the dark.

#Goya #Prado

Thanks to: Beatriz, Prado Communications Department