Representations of Natural Philosophy in Paintings by Joseph Wright

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“A Philosophical Laughing”:

Representations of Natural Philosophy in Paintings by Joseph Wright

Rosemary Steck

Baltimore City College High School

Baltimore, MD

2010 NEH Seminar for School Teachers

Interpretations of the Industrial revolution in Britain

The function of art is to do more than tell it like it is — it’s to imagine what’s possible.

~bell hooks

Much argument has been made that during the British Industrial revolutionthe scientific societies, like the Lunar Society and the Royal Society, did little actual productive and applicable science in their meetings and lectures. However, Musson and Robinson (1969) reveal the extent that “amateur science” played in the creation of a culture of advocacy for and exploration of science. While the scientific experiments and lectures at these meetings may not have produced what we would consider today as scientific breakthroughs, the overall emphasis placed on science and research aided in the production of the steam engine and the fledgling pursuits of chemistry.[1] Stewart (1998) notes that “machine technology was a manifestation of a profound intellectual shift inherent in the scientific instrumentality of the century. Cabinets of instruments were much more than the playthings of gentrified virtuosi” (265). The demand for better and more precise scientific instruments helped to drive technological innovation and invention, which in turn helped to drive the innovation and refinement in manufacturing technology.

Mathias (1972) argues that “much depends on whether we are looking at the immediate context for innovation or at the general nature of the society, and its intellectual parameters, within which industrial advances are burgeoning” (65). The scientific societies and coffee houses afforded their members a place to practice and act out the “scientific attitude” (as Mathias calls it), which impacts the “mode of approach to problem solving” (66). Though these scientific societies infrequently directly impacted technological innovation, this infrequency does not mean that the societies did not impact the way in which innovation and improvement in manufacturing were pursued.

The seriousness with which industrialists and manufacturers viewed these scientific societies can be seen in the manner in which they kept their own innovations and industrial improvements outside of the sphere of the discussion. Levere and Turner (2002) note that though industrialists and manufacturers were heavily involved in the scientific societies and coffee houses, they protected their “intellectual property[2]” and patented mechanisms with some fervor. Despite their protectionist attitude toward their own technical innovations and knowledge, the industrialists and manufacturers were interested in the scientific endeavors of the societies and coffee houses and “were concerned with the application of chemistry and natural philosophy to practical purposes” (p. 8). The “exploitation of public science meant the advancement of machines not merely as instruments of personal revelation but also as tools that might transmute natural powers into public wealth” (Stewart, 1998, p. 267). Yet these scientific pursuits should not be seen simply as a means to an end (the end being faster, better, more efficient machines), these pursuits were also entertainment—play for gentlemanly, educated men.

Nowhere can this pleasure of science better be seen than in Joseph Wright’s paintings. The fervor with which the characters in Wright’s art embrace scientific pursuit reflects Erasmus Darwin’s notion that experiments in natural philosophy were “a philosophical laughing.” Jenny Uglow (2003) argues that, in particular, the men of the Lunar Society “caught at discovery with delight, sure that every find could help them to crack the elusive codes of nature. And Nature, on every hand, offered herself for investigation” (xv). It is this delight—this play with science—that Wright exposes in his art. Hispieces should be seen as a reflection of and comment on the exploration and experimentation of the unknown.

Wright’s paintings form a continuum of the changing nature of science and the scientist. At the beginning of this continuum lies Wright’s “A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrey,” which was completed in 1766. This painting is followed by his “An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump,” which was completed in 1768,” and his scientific trio concludes with “The Alchemist in Search of the Philosopher's Stone,” which was completed in 1771. If these three pieces are taken as contemporary commentary about the nature and possibilities of science in the late 18th century, the communal wonder (whether that wonder is innocent, engaged, or horrified) present in Wright’s early paintings become displaced by the solitary alchemist in his final science painting. Wright’s shifting artistic renditions of science, experimentation, and scientists highlight the shifting social perceptions of the uses and ends of science.

In the second half of the 1760s, Joseph Wright “achieved fame and fortune with his dramatic candlelight scenes sowing groups of affluent individuals pursuing a shared interest in science” (Solkin, 2003, p. 167). While these science paintings may have afforded Wright a foray into notoriety, the paintings themselves offer a glimpse into different interpretations about the merits of science and experimentation. Wright’s visual interpretation of experimentation changes from the students’ wonder at model of the solar system to some student’shorror at the death of a bird. Finally, Wright’s natural philosopher is relegated to a hermetic existence away from the adoring middle class and evening lectures. Joseph Wright is noted for the use of light and shadow in his paintings. If Wright useslight and shadow is used to create a sense of drama in his paintings, then the use of light in his three paintings about natural philosophy offer very different dramatic interpretations of the promises and perils of science and scientific experimentation.

In “A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrey” Wright uses light and shadow to create a sense of science as an enlightening practice. In the painting, light radiates from the center of the orrey (which shows the movement of planets around the sun) to illuminate the faces of the watching students and eventually reaches up to the natural philosopher. The light finally illuminates the natural philosopher who stands, self-assuredly, above all of the participants and looks over the notes of one of the students. While the adults’ stern faces note the seriousness of the experiment, the children’s innocent delight and awe are foregrounded in this work. It is this delight and awe that should be noted—in Wright’s later paintings about science and experimentation, either the children become less delighted and more horrified by the scientific experiments or they are removed from the glow of science and discovery altogether.

If the children are read as symbols of innocence and virtue (as children often are symbolically read in literature and art), then Wright presents us with an idyllic reaction to science. The brightness of the light on the children’s faces and the glee with which they encounter the experiment shows Wright’s interpretation of the possibilities of science—it is innocent and new while simultaneously powerful. Even the young child with her back to the viewer has her face bathed in the light from the orrey. No participant at the lecture is denied the knowledge that not only the natural philosopher but also his scientific instrument has to offer. In “A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrey,” Wright captures via the delight of the audience, and especially the children, the rawness and the wonder of discovery. Simultaneously he forgoes illuminating the potential pitfalls or dangers aligned with science and scientific discovery.

Figure 1: Joseph Wright, “A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrey” (1766)

Yet Wright is not unaware of the mortality and fear associated with and in the pursuit of these “philosophical laughings.” In 1768, two years after he completed the raw wonder of “A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrey,” Wright takes a more hesitant look at the spectacles that traveling natural philosophers presented to their audiences. In “An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump,” a scientist demonstrates how a vacuum functions. In order to prove he has created a vacuum, the chamber the cockatoo is in must empty of air resulting in the bird’s death. In this work, the bird is not yet dead and the fate of the bird is left to the minds of the viewer. However, the cockatoo is not the only reminder of death. In the foreground of the painting and the point from which the light emanates is a skull in a pedestaled bowl. Both the bird and the skull remind observers of the painting that a scientist has the potential to utilize and possibly destroy everything (whether that everything is beautiful and fragile or it is a human being) that he needs in order to complete an experiment or make a discovery.

The cockatoo is of particular significance in displaying the brashness and boldness of science. The bird in the air pump is not a common sparrow or a pigeon; instead, it is what would have been in the late 18th century a rare bird in England. Cockatoos are native to Australia and nearby Asian countries. The cockatoo in Wright’s painting would have been an expensive bird to put to death for the sake of science, yet the natural philosopher does so without, from his facial expression, any thought or concern. Perhaps the scientist uses such a rare and beautiful bird to create a more distinct sense of suspense and uncertainty—a sense of the power of this new scientific enlightenment that is touring the English countryside via lectures and fairs. Neither the characters in the painting nor he viewers of Wright’s work ever know if the bird is killed or spared and this ambiguity emphasizes the a much different vision of science than the science presented in Wright’s “Philosopher Lecturing.” Here science promises not only awe and wonder but also the potential for destruction.

In “An Experiment on a Bird” this potential for ruin is seen not only in the cockatoo in the air pump or the skull in the bowl but also in the reaction of the children to the experiment at hand. Wright’s “Philosopher Lecturing” painting accentuates the innocence and playfulness of the experiment by highlighting a look of glee in the children and basking them in light. However, “An Experiment on a Bird” offers not nearly as much illumination and glowing adoration as his first science painting[3]. In this painting only one child—the youngest child— looks directly at the experiment—at the dying bird. Her look of horror and distress, which is fully illuminated in the painting, shows the viewers the flipside to an awe-inspiring science which was a fear-inducing science.

Figure 2: Joseph Wright, “An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump" (1768)

While the little girl is utterly engaged, albeit in a horrified manner, with a scientific experiment which could lead to death, the other two children turn away or move away from the potential outcome. The older girl covers her face with her hands while the boy in the background is either opening or closing the curtains. The girl with her hands over her face is obviously terrified of the bird’s possible demise. Though an adult is trying to console her, he is simultaneously trying to reengage her in the experiment. The adult’s attempt to involve the girl in the experiment demonstrates how he has forgotten the life of the small bird and is concerned with the experiment itself; however, the girl in her innocence remembers and focuses on the fate of the bird.

In “An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump,” Wright again uses children to show how science was potentially perceived by the British population of the 18th century. In “A Philosopher Lecturing” the children are open and engaged with the experiment. They closely surround the orrey and bask in the light that emits from it. In “A Bird in an Air Pump” a single child looks in shock at a dying bird while the other two children turn away, either in horror or fright. The first science painting shows science’s capacity for eliciting joy and wonder; Wright’s second science painting shows a much different interpretation of science—an interpretation that shows science’s potential for creating harm and possible destruction.

In his series of science paintings, Wright’s third and final painting shows a much different type of natural philosophy than those presented in his first two. While his first two science paintings center on what for him would have been contemporary experiments, Wright’s third painting, “The Alchemist in Search of the Philosopher's Stone,” hearkens back to a not too distant scientific past. While “The Alchemist” is a painting about historical natural philosophy, Wright does not create a sense of nostalgia or wistfulness in his work; he, instead, replaces the social nature of scientific experimentation with an almost hermetic existence. The solitary and private science depicted in the painting creates an even greater sense of hesitancy and fear than does the obvious horror of the children in “A Bird in an Air Pump.”

In “The Alchemist in Search of the Philosopher’s Stone” the central figure is the alchemist who kneels in front of a flask in which he has just discovered phosphorous. Unlike the two earlier science painting, this work does not put the alchemist in the center of an adoring group of people who have come to see him lecture. Instead, the alchemist is by himself in a prostrate position to his experiment. Though two young men are in the background of the painting, they are not in the light of the experiment—they appear almost outside of the bounds of the knowledge that science can provide. The alchemist’s deferential position is much different than the position of the scientists in Wright’s two earlier paintings. In “A Philosopher Lecturing” and “An Experiment on a Bird” the two natural philosophers stand above the scientific equipment—they assume a stance of authority not only on the experiment itself but also on the people watching. However, in “The Alchemist” the scientist takes a submissive and respectful stance to the power of science.

This deferential attitude varies greatly from Wright’s two earlier paintings that display man’s control and power over nature; instead, the alchemist shows respect and a slight amount of fear. The alchemist’s attitude suggests that Wright’s views on science and a human’s ability to control and understand nature are changing. Wright completes “The Alchemist” in 1771, three years before his friend Joseph Priestly discovers oxygen and begins to write Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air, the scientific volumes that would eventually eradicate the old belief theory of the four elements (Uglow, 2003). “The Alchemist” reflects and reacts to the changing beliefs about science and nature. While new discoveries are both fascinating and awe-inspiring, they also can induce a sense of fear and respect.

Figure 3: Joseph Wright, " The Alchemist in Search of the Philosopher’s Stone” (1771)

The scientific and natural world that Wright knew and had been accepted as established truth was rapidly changing and it is this respect for the rapid change that is seen in his final science painting. The alchemist is not playing at being a scientists; he is not displaying the mysteries of the natural world as a parlor trick in order to acquire a reaction from the crowd. The alchemist is in a state of discovery.

Unlike Wright’s previous scientists, the alchemist experiments in what might be considered a proper lab and he is doing what by modern standards would be considered proper, albeit antiquated, research. In relation to the advancement of science and understanding about the natural world, it is significant that Wright uses a figure from the past to note the scientific steps into the future. The alchemist is searching for the philosopher’s stone—that mythic element that will turn base metal into gold. Instead of finding the philosopher’s stone, he accidently discovers phosphorous. This moment of discovery moves the alchemist from a person who is searching for the unobtainable and the unreal and places him distinctly in the path of modern science. No longer is the alchemist—a hermit with visions of riches and fame—an individual endeavoring to turn base metals into gold; instead he is transformed, via Wright’s hand, into a man of discovery—a man of science.

Over a five year period, Wright moves from celebrating the public spectacle of science to offering a reverential treatment of antiquated scientific procedure, which looks, unlike the parlor-room science in his first paintings, closer to what the accepted mode of science would become. Before Wright changes his muse from scientific discovery to industrial labor, his art reflects the scientific passion, potential, and, perhaps, peril of the time.