Original subtitles

David was a revolutionary artist in every sense.

His work spoke the classical language of ancient Greece and Rome,

austere, self-controlled, heroic.

But he broke European painting away from the sentimental fantasy of the Rococo

and gave it a harder edge.

He was also a fully committed supporter of the French Revolution and Napoleon,

using his art as a powerful instrument of political propaganda.

Jacques-Louis David was born on the 30th of August, 1748,

in a house just along the Quai de la Megisserie here in Paris.

His father was an iron merchant who managed to buy himself a position in local government.

But when David was just nine years old, his father was killed in a pistol duel,

leaving the family to be brought up by their mother and supported by two uncles.

In 1765, aged 17, David became a pupil of Joseph-Marie Veen,

a professor at the Royal Academy who held lessons at his studio on the Rue de Montmartre.

Whilst there, David received an injury to his cheek during a fencing match,

which developed into a tumour that scarred him for life

and made his speech difficult to understand.

It seems likely that this made him even more determined to express himself visually.

A year later, David enrolled at the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture,

housed here in the former Palace of the Louvre.

The Louvre was used not just for the academy,

but also provided studio space and lodgings for students as well as established artists.

And the whole creative ethos of the place was towards large-scale history painting

that David was determined to master.

And this is one of his earliest efforts.

It's called The Combat of Mars and Minerva,

and it was produced in 1771 when David had been at the academy for a few years

and thought he was ready to enter the prestigious Prix de Rome competition,

which enabled the winners to spend between three and five years in the Eternal City.

In effect, it's a rather poor imitation of the academic style of the time,

what's called Rococo,

and it's clear that David was struggling to make his own mark.

The Prix de Rome was an essential step on the road to becoming a successful artist,

and so David entered the competition three years running,

but on each occasion he failed to win.

One year he was so bitterly disappointed that he even threatened to kill himself,

but finally, in 1774, he won the prize and headed south.

Due in part to his youthful arrogance,

David didn't expect his work to be much affected by his time in Rome,

but there's no doubt that by the end of his stay,

his art was completely transformed.

In many ways, it was the art of 17th century Rome

that had a decisive influence on his work,

particularly the paintings of Caravaggio.

From him, David learnt how to employ light and dark

to augment both the realism of his figures

and the inherent drama of the painted narrative.

Back in Paris, the influence of his time in Rome

can clearly be seen in this work,

Andromache mourning Hector,

a picture that gained him acceptance as a full member of the Academy.

Produced in 1783, the painting depicts a scene from Homer's Iliad,

where its bleak naturalism and acutely observed details

marked a significant departure, not only from David's early style,

but from the predominant style of the Academy too.

It drew some criticism, but generally, the painting was admired,

and David could now guarantee inclusion of his work

at the Salon, which happened every two years,

and was the only public exhibition of art in 18th century France.

More importantly, though, David now numbered among the select few

who received the most prestigious commissions from the king,

Louis XVI.

In 1784, David began work on a royal commission

that he'd received two years earlier,

in which he decided to wrestle with the tragic and dramatic subject

of the war between Albert and Rome in the 7th century before Christ.

The painting's called The Oath of the Horatii.

At the centre of the picture, we see Horace, the Roman king,

handing over three swords to his three sons,

who were about to do battle.

They're making their vows of devotion to their country and their father.

On the right-hand side is where the dilemma creeps in.

Nearest to the viewer, in white, is Camilla,

the woman who's betrothed to one of the warriors from Alba,

who our three brothers are about to fight.

And next to her is Sabine,

who is from the Alban side of the dispute,

but she is married to one of the three brothers.

So you have this extraordinary and powerful moral dilemma.

It's an incredibly controlled and dispassionate painting

in the way that it's actually produced,

the way that oil is put on canvas by David.

And in this respect,

he's breaking away from the orthodoxy of the academy at the time,

who want their artists to show off

a bit of bravure or brushwork here,

some white impasto there.

So there's a new style of painting emerging here,

what we now call neoclassicism.

Now, that doesn't mean that David is trying to paint like the ancients,

but it means that he's trying to restore some of the values

of the classical world to his art.

When David showed it at the Salon,

he told friends that this work wasn't for the king,

this was for himself,

and that in effect, he was producing a manifesto

for the way his art should go.

And consequently, he was hailed as the head

of a new school of French painting,

and that domination would last for the next 30 years.

David's membership of the academy

also meant that he acquired a studio and lodging at the Louvre.

Here, he established

an extremely influential teaching practice,

which produced some of the most talented young painters of the day,

artists like Grosse and Ingres.

He also had married, recently,

Charlotte Pekul,

the daughter of a wealthy building contractor.

Her large dowry meant that David,

who'd never been particularly rich,

was not wholly dependent on commissions for his income.

But in contrast with David's personal and professional life,

France itself was in crisis.

Whilst the king and the aristocracy lived in unimaginable luxury,

the majority of the population suffered in abject poverty.

Reformers clamoured for change

and demanded a constitutional monarchy.

But when, in the summer of 1789,

the king rejected this,

the people of Paris took matters into their own hands

and stormed the Bastille prison,

seizing weapons from the armoury

and, in effect,

beginning the French Revolution.

David's response in his painting to the revolution,

at least initially,

was guarded.

After all, he depended on the king and the aristocracy

for patronage.

Nonetheless, in the Salon of 1789,

with the revolution beginning to rage around him,

he showed this painting,

that when we look at it,

we'll realise it was quite a provocative one.

It's called The Lictors, or Roman Soldiers,

Returning to Brutus the Bodies of His Sons.

And it shows not Marcus Brutus,

the man responsible for the assassination of Caesar,

but Lucius Brutus,

the man who deposed the last king of Rome, Tarquin,

and established, in 508 BC,

the Roman Republic.

What we see here, though,

is the same compositional format and size

as the Oath of the Horatii,

but it's even more radical,

because at the centre of the picture

is a grey background,

with Brutus' wife gesturing

to the bodies of her sons

that are being carted in on the left-hand side,

seemingly across the picture plane,

and then going straight back

into the surface of the canvas,

giving the work depth and movement.

And then, here in the foreground,

on the left-hand side,

is the main subject,

is Brutus, clouded in shadow,

contemplating what he's done,

a man who's made the ultimate sacrifice

of his sons for his state.

It's very easy, with hindsight,

to see this work

as a statement of revolutionary intent by David,

but we need to remind ourselves

that, in fact,

he didn't know

that the king was going to be deposed

and eventually killed,

and, in fact,

what was required by the revolution at this time

was a constitutional monarchy.

However,

in that volatile political climate of 1789,

David must have known

what he was doing

in showing this work,

and the king's agents

tried to have the work

taken down off the salon walls,

but such was its critical,

and perhaps more crucially,

its popular success,

that the work remained

and was declared a triumph.

As the revolution progressed,

David became increasingly politicised.

Recent events made him aware

that he was living through a period

of momentous change.

In 1791,

he began work

on a monumental painting

commemorating the founding moment

of the revolution,

the oath sworn by members

of the self-proclaimed

National Assembly

in the tennis court of Versailles.

Seen here

in a highly finished ink drawing,

the oath of the tennis court

was David's first attempt

at depicting a contemporary event.

Part documentary record,

part propaganda,

he approached the subject

just as he would have done

a story from the ancient world.

But only a year

after beginning the work,

many of the principal protagonists

had been discredited

and were later executed,

so to continue

would have been dangerous,

and therefore David's

grand revolutionary painting

was never finished.

In September 1792,

David's involvement

with politics reached new heights

when he was elected

a deputy of the convention,

the newly established

revolutionary government.

And he allied himself

with the most radical faction

within the convention,

the Mountain Group,

and in particular

to its leader,

the former lawyer,

Maximilien Robespierre,

who became one of the most

powerful politicians

of revolutionary France.

A year later,

and the convention voted narrowly

for the execution

of the king by guillotine,

with David one of the most

vociferous supporters

of the idea.

But his wife was horrified,

and in fact,

she filed for divorce.

But on the 16th of January 1793,

Louis XVI was indeed executed

on what was called

La Place de la Révolution,

now the Place de la Concorde.

But ironically,

it wasn't the brutal execution

of the king

that inspired David's greatest

and most celebrated painting.

That came from the savage murder

of a revolutionary.

David's increasing involvement

with radical Parisian politics

led to him producing

probably the greatest image

of the French Revolution.

This one,

sometimes called

the death of Marat,

but called by David,

Marat breathing his last,

which is significant

because it shows a man

who's just about to die.

Now, it tells a brilliant story.

The story of Marat,

the doctor who became

a radical journalist,

who edited a magazine

called Friend of the People,

but who also proclaimed

that in order for the revolution

to succeed,

it must become more violent.

And in turn,

this triggered a young woman

from Normandy,

from the town of Caen,

called Charlotte Corday,

to come to Paris

on the eve

of the revolution's anniversary

on the 13th of July 1793

in order to assassinate Marat.

And she gets access

into his apartment

by sending him a note

saying there's

counter-revolutionary activity

going on in Normandy.

And when she gets in,

he's in the bath

because he has

this chronic skin complaint.

And she pulls a butcher's knife out

from under her dress,

plunges it into Marat's heart,

drops the knife,

and then waits to be arrested

and then executed.

And what David proclaims

in this painting

is that Marat is the first

great martyr

of the French Revolution.

And all the details

point to that.

The sheets on which he lies

and on which his blood seeps

are patched

to show his modesty.

He clutches a blood-splattered note

written by Corday

proclaiming her own wretchedness

and playing on his good nature

because she needs his kindness.

The quill that he holds

slumped down

by the side of the bath

he's just used

to write a note

authorising money

to a woman

and her five children

whose father

has just been killed

fighting the revolutionary cause.

And then

this packing case,

his modest desk,

becomes a tombstone

and a homage.

Amara,

tumara from David

with the date,

the old Roman date,

1793,

rubbed out

and replaced with

Londres,

the second year

of the revolution.

But there's a bigger picture

to grasp here.

First of all,

look at the background.

No extraneous detail.

This dark,

murky void

that pushes the figure out,

makes it stand out

and makes it almost supernatural

in the way

that it's illuminated.

And the pose,

with life seeming

to empty out of it,

slumped over the bath,

is also reminiscent

of numerous paintings

of Christ

being taken down

from the cross

or the Pietà

where he's held

by his mother

or perhaps best of all

the entombment.

And it's as if

the bath itself

becomes his tomb.

What you also need

to remember

is when David

saw the body

it was putrefying,

it was decomposing,

it was also covered

in rashes and sores

from Mara's

chronic skin complaint.

But here,

all that seems

to have been transformed

and the body seems

in a way

to be made out

of marble.

So what David

is doing here

in a very acute,

clever,

political

and propagandist gesture

is to produce

an image

partly of a classical god,

partly of a religious martyr

in what is in effect

a republican altarpiece.

With the execution

of the king,

France was plunged

into a period

of violent repression

known as the reign of terror

in which almost

40,000 people died.

During this time,

David served a term

as president

of the convention

and so will forever

be implicated

in this dark period

of French history.

But by July 1797,

the tide had turned.

Ropesbier and his supporters

were overthrown

and were guillotined

just days later.

David himself

was imprisoned

and came very close

to being executed.

Whilst in prison,

David painted this open

and sympathetic

self-portrait,

which seems to invite

the viewer

to judge him

not as a politician

but as a painter.

During this crisis

in his life,

David's wife,

Charlotte,

returned to support

her embattled husband

and the two

were remarried

two years later.

At a time

of great insecurity

for David,

portraiture provided

an uncontroversial means

of continuing his work.

In 1795,

he painted

this skilfully executed

image of the

Dutch ambassador,

Jacobus Blau,

proving that his ordeal

had not decreased

his immense talent

for painting.

And it was through

a portrait commission

that David

was to meet a man

who would change

not just his life

but also

who would alter

the course

of European history.

Napoleon Bonaparte

was a young

Corsican soldier

who'd worked his way

up to become general

in the Revolutionary Army

and had just returned

to Paris

after a very successful

campaign in Italy.

And such was his status

as hero

that he was able

to seek out

the most famous

French portrait painter

of the day

and ask him to paint

his likeness.

And this is the result.

Now, it's unfinished

and one of the reasons

was, as David

later commented,

that Napoleon

was so restless

and full of energy

he only sat

for three hours.

It's a fascinating

painting, this one

because it reveals

very simply

and obviously

something of the process

of making a painting

from the simple lines

that create the pose

to the build-up

of layers of paint

and that magical idea

of transformation

of inert pigment

on canvas

into something

approaching the likeness

of a living,

breathing human being.

It also has

this slightly magical aura

because it shows

Napoleon as a young man

and hints at the idea

of him becoming

something else,

something grander

and in fact

within two years

of David doing

this portrait

he'd staged

a coup d'etat

with the help

of the army

and proclaimed himself

first consul of France

and within a few more years

with various military

victories behind him

he'd become in effect

a military dictator

and with that

the democratic idea

of the revolution

went out the window.

In 1801

David produced

this heroic image

of Napoleon

crossing the Alps

at the head

of his army.

On the rocks below

David inscribed

Napoleon's name

along with those

of the great conquerors

of the Alps

Hannibal and Charlemagne

and so in many ways

the image is an exercise

in political propaganda

with Napoleon cast

as an idealised hero

master of not only

his army

but of nature itself.

Napoleon refused

to sit for David

which is perhaps

why the portrait

looks unlike

any other of him.

Subsequently though

the painting

was extremely well received

and Napoleon ordered

several copies.

David quickly establishes

himself as the chronicler

of Napoleon

and Napoleon's reign

but his greatest work

or at least his biggest

coincides with Napoleon's

greatest personal triumph.

His crowning

as emperor

in December 1804

and it's that image

when Napoleon

is actually crowning

his empress

Josephine

that forms the basis

of this work

that David wanted

to be almost

the biggest painting

that existed in France

and so it's a painting

that proclaims

the monstrous ego

of David

and the even more

monstrous ego

of Napoleon.

Not surprisingly

this vast undertaking

took David

the best part

of two years

bolstered by the fact

that Napoleon

had made him

first painter

to the emperor

and he sets himself up

in a deconsecrated church

as his studio

and gets set builders

from the Paris Opera

to reconstruct

parts of Notre Dame

cathedral

in which the ceremony

itself had taken place

and there's over 70

recognisable portraits

from Napoleon's brothers

here on the left

of the picture

through to the empress

who incidentally

was 41 years old

when this was painted

so David's done

a very good rejuvenation

job on her

to Napoleon's stepson

who here holds a sword

rather lightheartedly

that the two choir boys

can have a look at

but in the end

the whole painting

is staged

and lit

so that there is

no doubt

that Napoleon

is here at the heart

and when you look

at the work

there's something

sumptuous

about the colours

and about the way

that David's applied paint

and in a way

we can see here

that he's moving

away from neoclassicism

from that manifesto

proclaimed style

with the oath

of the Horatia

to a style

that you might call

Napoleonic

or empire

where things become

looser

and more celebratory

and then

in the scale

of the work

the viewer

is invited

almost

to step into the picture

and get privileged access

to an event

that only

the great and the good

in Paris

and by extension

in France

would have had access to

but perhaps most crucially

for David

what matters

is what Napoleon thinks

and actually

he's bowled over

by the work

he says

this is not a painting

you can actually

walk around

in the picture

and then he adds

that life

is everywhere

soon after the completion

of the coronation

commissions from Napoleon

dried up

partly due to the massive fees

that David requested

however he did paint

one last portrait

the commission came

from a Scottish aristocrat

who paid the enormous sum

of a thousand guineas

to have this portrait

of the French emperor

David depicts him

in a very sympathetic light

emphasising his dedication

and achievements

despite the fact

that Napoleon was in effect

a tyrant

who plunged the whole of Europe

into a prolonged series

of brutal wars

as Napoleon's Grand Armée

battled across Europe

David was working

on this painting

Leonidas at Thermopylae

which he'd begun

originally in 1798

the work shows

the king of Sparta

and his army

as they face certain death

at the hands of the Persians

Napoleon commented

that David

shouldn't waste his time

painting the defeated

a remark that proved

rather poignant

in view of what was

just about to happen

after the disastrous

attempted invasion

of Russia

the sun seemed

to be setting

for Napoleon's Grand Armée

when it was defeated

at the Battle of Leipzig

and by March 1814

the Allied armies

were here in Paris

and Napoleon was forced

to abdicate

and there were Russian soldiers

camping along

the Champs-Elyse

and two of them

were even billeted

under the same roof

as David

and proclaimed themselves

to be delighted

to be sharing the house

of Europe's most famous painter

and the Allies

re-established

the Bourbon monarchy

under Louis XVIII

and David

loyal as ever to Napoleon

withdrew from public life

although Napoleon

was exiled

to the Mediterranean

island of Elba

he returned to France

at the beginning of 1815

for one final campaign

but was defeated

at the Battle of Waterloo

subsequently

all anti-monarchists

as well as Napoleon's supporters

were forced into exile

from France

by King Louis XVIII

but David

because he was so immensely famous

was permitted to stay

however

such was his own distaste

at the monarchy

he decided to come into exile

and moved here

to Brussels

a year later

in 1816

and although he was getting on

at the time

he was 67

he set up

a rather profitable business

painting the portraits

of French exiles

as well as the Belgian aristocracy

while he was in Brussels

David also painted

mythological scenes

notably this work

which is familiar in a way

in its neoclassicism

but also slightly crackers

it shows

the god of war

Mars

being seduced

and disarmed

by the goddess of love

Venus

with her handmaidens

the three graces

in the background

frolicking about

not looking particularly graceful

and on one level

is trying to experiment

he knows

that the end

is perhaps not too far away

he's suffering from chronic heart disease

at the time

he's also knocked down

by a horse and cart

on his way back from the theatre

whilst he's in the process

of painting this work

but he still manages

to finish it

and he describes this work

as his adieu to painting

in his last years

David was begged

to return to France

but he never did

an opponent of the Bourbons

till the end

in 1825

after nine years

of exile in Brussels

the 77 year old David

died

in the arms of his son

Eugène

although refused burial

in France

David received a lavish

funeral in Brussels

at the post-mortem

the family were given

his heart

in a silver urn

and at the death

of his mother

in 1826

Eugène buried

his father's heart

alongside her

in the cemetery

of Père Lachaise

in Paris

David's influence

on European painting

was immense

although he was later

blamed for the decline

of French art

into a form of sterile

academic classicism

but he managed

to produce work

which struck a chord

with the conservative

Ancien Régime

with the zealots

of the French Revolution

and with Napoleon

he gave contemporary life

and its struggle

something of the grandeur

of ancient Rome or Greece

and produced painting

which reads as a monument

to the control

boldness

intellect

and ambitions

of its creator

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