Illustration to the Iliad 1795

Curator: Here we have John Flaxman's "Illustration to the Iliad," an etching rendered in 1795. I'm immediately struck by the dynamism, even though it's just lines. What do you make of it? Editor: It feels haunted somehow, clean, stark, but utterly desolate. It’s all suggestion, not much solid form. Are those supposed to be horses, or wraiths pulling a chariot? Curator: Ah, but that’s the neoclassical spirit, isn’t it? Reduced to essential form and idea. Flaxman distills Homer’s epic into a series of spare compositions; think of it as an archeological dig, just skeletons, everything to be discovered. Note the figure trailing behind the chariot; do you think he's been trampled, discarded, his fate sealed? Editor: Yes, like a discarded truth or promise, and this winged goddess, trying to guide the chariot forward – I am really fascinated by her extended arms and fluttering garments. Her gestures seem desperate. Is it trying to veer this guy off his path? To bring a sort of moral counterbalance, to his ruthlessness? Curator: Precisely, Iconographically the goddess serves to guide. And there's a strong pull. Remember that this image comes from the Iliad – so, of course, you'll find an abundance of pathos and tragedy inherent to these age-old conflicts. You also get to see through those archetypes or that moral of guidance through storytelling. Editor: Right. And notice the radiant sun... I wonder whether it casts light on him, or only intensifies his delusion. The stark lines almost vibrate. A real collision of aspiration and utter oblivion! Curator: Indeed, Flaxman really got at the very essence of these archetypal struggles. Don't you find that so relevant today, even now? Editor: Absolutely, it is like looking through the bones of humanity, you know, and understanding this very essence of who we've always been and may become. Curator: I agree. It feels oddly…circular in sentiment and resonance through time.