Hogarth Deconstructed

Look at many a painting by William Hogarth and you can immediately see a story unfolding, quite often relating the disastrous results of falling into temptation. You might take a closer look to spot more clues to the moral tale, such as the black patches used in the 18th century to cover up the signs of syphilis in Marriage à la Mode, or linger over the amusing depictions of the hangers-on keen to relieve the heir Tom Rakewell of his money in A Rake's Progress.

But how much do you miss? Of course, the significance of some of the details -- and in Hogarth, there are lots and lots of details -- becomes obscured as the centuries pass, but just how much time do you usually spend in front of a painting? Thirty seconds? A minute? There's always another picture to see, after all....

But in the latest exhibition at The Foundling Museum in central London, the focus is on just one Hogarth picture from its collection -- The March of the Guards to Finchley. It's your chance to spend a good 45 minutes exploring one of the greatest of British artists' greatest paintings as the curators put flesh on the bones of his depiction of the politics and society of a turbulent period in the country's history.

This is Hogarth deconstructed, and there's a splendid soundtrack to boot, put together by musician and producer Martyn Ware, once of The Human League and Heaven 17. That's because this show is called Hogarth & the Art of Noise, and it's the first to be dedicated to the way the artist depicted sound in his work.

So let's set the scene: It's December 1745, and the Jacobite army under Bonnie Prince Charlie, aiming to put a Catholic Stuart King back on the throne, has reached Derby. At Tottenham Court Road on the outskirts of London, troops loyal to the Hanoverian Protestants who now rule are marching out to defend the capital. And as we shall see, amid all the music and clamour, this is Hogarth's warts-and-all portrait of a city and a society in turmoil.

Hogarth painted The March to Finchley in 1750, but a decade or so earlier he'd composed another narrative that's crammed full of the sound of the city -- The Enraged Musician.

There's the musician, in the window, driven to despair by the din of London. There are at least 17 different sources of sound -- a child with a rattle, a knife-grinder, street vendors and two cats facing off on the roof at the top on the right among them. Every picture tells a story, it's true, but with Hogarth, every picture seems to relate a dozen tales.

And the centrepiece of this show is no different. Before you sit down to admire the work in all its glory, the curators take you on a tour of the painting, delving into its sights and its sounds. It's a picture of two halves, we learn. The left-hand side depicts healthy, happy Protestant Britain, with the fife and drum rallying soldiers to fight for the King; there's wholesome beer and manly boxing; on the right, the temptations of Jacobite rebellion, the demon gin, the vice of prostitution and a world where theft is rife.

But this being Hogarth, that's too simplistic. This soldier relieving himself on the extreme left of the picture is intently studying a handbill posted on the wall. You can just make out the words "Dr Rock".

Dr Richard Rock, originally from Germany, was well known for his cures for a variety of ailments, including syphilis. And one of the symptoms of syphilis was difficulty urinating....

And behind the drummer in The March to Finchley, there's a man in a full wig with the sort of patch on his face used to cover up a scar from venereal disease. He's deep in conversation with another man whose clothes mark him out as French. A spy?

Let's wander across to the right of the painting, because there's a lot going on. And a fair bit of it is fuelled by gin. No, not that trendy bottle being purveyed by the man with the bushy beard and the far-too-short trousers, this is drunk-for-a-penny, dead-drunk-for-two-pence gut-rot from Gin Lane.

This old soldier has had his tuppenceworth already, but he's still demanding more from his wife, who's selling it on the street. Between 1729 and 1751 eight Acts of Parliament were passed to try to control the sale of gin amid fears about its effects on the workforce and on the health of soldiers and as a cause of population decline. You can hear an extract from writing by Hogarth's contemporary, the novelist and magistrate Henry Fielding, expressing his concerns about a society in which 100,000 Londoners were living a gin-soaked life, bringing into the world babies already hooked on the stuff.

Oh, and by the way, see that small soot-covered boy to the left of the soldiers? Chimney boys were often paupers, apprenticed to sweeps for a harsh and frequently short career climbing up flues, risking suffocation and scrotal cancer. Luckier unwanted children might find their way into the Foundling Hospital, established as Britain's first children's charity in 1739, and of which Hogarth was an enthusiastic supporter. Many foundling boys ended up going into the military.

Now, what's happening up here at the top right, with the well-dressed women leaning out of the windows? There's some cats on the roof....

....and cat-house was slang for a brothel. In the bottom right window is London's most famous madam of the 1740s, Mother Douglas. In the guise of the abbess to a conventful of nuns, she's praying for the safe return of her customers from any battle.

And here are the three characters at the centre of Hogarth's grand design. Our brave grenadier finds himself between two women: On the left, the ballad-seller pregnant with his child has a copy in her basket of God Save the King; the older woman on the right carries Jacobite literature and attempts to pull him away to join Bonnie Prince Charlie's cause.

What a lot going on! What a lot to take in (and we haven't told you the half of it)! Time to sit down in front of the painting itself and let the sounds wash over you as your eyes criss-cross the canvas. Hear the ballads, listen in on the French plotting, get an earful of the girls in the cat-house. A few minutes of total immersion for the full Hogarth experience....

The Foundling Museum have shown that you don't need to borrow a mass of paintings from around the world to put on a great show. With the right thought and research and careful choice of illustrations (many just copies) you can present a really interesting and informative exhibition that brings history, and a single picture, to life. They've done such a good job of adding the sounds of the period, we just hope they don't take the smells of Hogarth as their next theme.

Also in the Foundling Museum

There's more art upstairs in the museum, including Hogarth's portrait of the man who set up the Foundling Hospital, Captain Thomas Coram. You can also learn about the history of the hospital and how it has helped children for almost three centuries.

Hogarth Reconstructed

A not-to-be-missed exhibition starting on October 9 at Sir John Soane's Museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields will see all Hogarth's surviving painted series, including Marriage à la Mode, together in one place for the first time. Hogarth: Place and Progress will run until January 5.

Practicalities

Hogarth & the Art of Noise is on at the Foundling Museum in central London until September 1. The museum is open Tuesdays to Saturdays from 1000 to 1700 and Sundays from 1100 to 1700. Full-price entry costs £13.20 with a Gift Aid donation, £12 without. The Foundling Museum is located on Brunswick Square, only a few minutes' walk from Russell Square station on the Underground's Piccadilly Line.

Images

William Hogarth, The March of the Guards to Finchley, 1750. © The Foundling Museum, London (four further illustrations show details from the painting)
William Hogarth, The Enraged Musician, 1741. © Gerald Coke Handel Foundation, London
Dr Richard Rock's Tincture for Curing the Teeth. © Wellcome Collection, London