Disaster into art

"La Joconde" and her many fans.

Their expedition for Senegal set sail on June 17, 1816, with 365 people on four vessels. When one of the boats inexplicably ran aground on a reef off the coast of Mauritania ― in clear weather and calm seas ― its occupants were stuck, unable to fit onto the other three boats. The decision was made to build a raft to hold these 150 unlucky seamen. They would be towed to shore and all would be saved.

That was the plan. A sturdy raft was indeed built. But for reasons that remain unclear, it was abandoned by the rest of the expedition, its tow rope tossed into the sea. Those on the raft had no charts or oars, only a bit of wine, water and soggy bread. Within a few days started they fighting one another. Delirium followed. Thinking there was no escape, some chose to jump overboard. Within a week, crewmates' corpses were being hacked and eaten.

Only fifteen remained alive by Day 13, when a ship was seen on the horizon. They straightened barrel hoops and attached handkerchiefs, waving them in the hopes of rescue. This was the moment Gericault captured in "The Raft of the Medusa," on display for the past century and a half in the Louvre's Denon wing.

Gericault's "La Radeau de la Meduse."

The process of turning disaster into art is more automatic these days, often manifesting itself in film. Eisenstein's "Battleship Potemkin" was a precursor to the insta-histories churned out by American director Peter Berg. Oil rig disaster in the Gulf? Here comes "Deepwater Horizon." Bombs tear through the Boston Marathon? In a few months you'll have "Patriots Day." Bin Laden was killed in May 2011 and Kathryn Bigelow's "Zero Dark Thirty"  (which I've watched twice in the past 72 hours) was released in December of the following year.

To help will himself to complete "Medusa," Gericault shaved his head, making it more unlikely he would venture into the street. The raft's survivors were rescued on July 17, 1816. The painting was finished in July 1819 ― pretty remarkable in a day when news was delivered by courier, if at all.

Detail from "The Raft of the Medusa."

The abandonment of the raft was seized upon by anti-monarchist Bonapartists and other political malcontents to show the general corruption of the royalists and the callousness with which they treated the working men beneath them. I will leave it to art historians to imagine why these emaciated cannibals seem so well-muscled in their hour of crisis.

Pavillon Mollien, La Louvre.

The painting itself seems to be in poor shape. The bitumen Gericault used to create shadows is chemically unstable, and scales and bubbles are evident throughout. The Louvre itself appears to be in great condition by contrast. It has cosmetically changed a lot in the last 40 years but is just as easy to get lost in, and students continue to sketch works there as they have since the dawn of the Salon.