Girl on a Swing

I am trying that reading thing again. For a few years, other than news articles, I couldn’t, wouldn’t, and didn’t have the urge to immerse myself in literature of any stripe. Not romance, not memoir, not fiction, not even New Idea. I put that down to grief and other things that have been crowding out the reading time.

Long story short; while on the vacanza in October, I began reading a biography on Mozart and at one point the author is comparing Mozart’s sparkling notes to the painting of a girl on a swing by Fragonard. Don’t ask for how the writer joined these complex threads because I don’t quite have those powers of recall but I totally got the connection the author was making between Mozart’s music and Fragonard. This painting - playful, rococo in its frothiness - yet also weighty enough to provide a bass note to more contemplative topics such as the role of women and sex in the 18th century. So far so good in terms of the writer making bona-fide connections between art and music. What was utterly serendipitous was my trip to the Wallace Collection. Unbeknownst to me, Fragonard’s painting is one of the collection’s superstars.

Anyhoo; there I am tripping happily through the hallowed halls of this completely wonderful museum in Marylebone. I round the corner and BAM! There she is.

Wheeeee!

She is mid-flight, skirts upturned, the frantic dog barking away, the lover in the foreground looking up her dress, the shoe flung into the air, and a person pushing the swing slightly hidden in the shadows; a poufy triangle of desire, the forbidden, and a fairy tale. I shrieked with astonishment and bounded up to take a closer look, all the while getting a little high off of life throwing out the weirdest of chance encounters. I had to bite my tongue not turn to the nearest observer and tell them about this happy coincidence.

I also resisted the urge to plug in the headphones and get Mozart going while reading the accompanying text. The picture has enough fizz that it doesn’t require an accompanying soundtrack but Wolfgang would certainly fit the bill as a companion piece for the artwork. Within the picture’s over-the-top romance and fantasy is a lurking sense that something more is going on if only the observer could put their finger on it. The putti in the background are looking a little spooked, the dog is yapping in a manner that is not evident in other portraits of the same era and let’s be honest, both guys are doing things that are kinda pervy. And so to relate it back to Mozart’s gloriousness becomes easier to do the more one gazes at the image.

Consider the plot for the Marriage of Figaro: Susanna, Figaro’s fiancé, is being improperly pursued by the Count and Figaro vows to thwart him. Love triangle right there. And now we have Marcellina who is angry at Susanna for taking Figaro away from her. Overlapping love triangle number two. And over here is Cherubino who is in love with all women and he has been caught alone with Barbarina, the gardener’s daughter. And where off to the races because that’s barely the half of it. Exhausting, exhilarating, effervescent…marry that with Mozart’s genius composing vivacity and it’s on for young and old.

A little bit like this painting. I can see the connection. And while that’s not the tenth of what is going on with Figaro or the under/overtones of the painting, if one is discussing Mozart and Fragonard in the same breath, the similarities between these two artists spring to life within the comparison. I’m just thrilled that my unplanned reading coupled with my peregrinations around the Wallace Collection somehow miraculously aligned for this happy coincidence.

Will not be forgetting that day in a hurry.