A Scene from The Forcibly Bewitched 

Curator: This artwork by Francisco de Goya is titled "A Scene from The Forcibly Bewitched". Look at how effectively he uses oil paint. The texture almost becomes part of the scene, don't you think? Editor: My first impression? Unease. There's a nervous tension that radiates from the figure. I think it’s created, partly, by the limited color palette and dramatic contrast between light and dark, but what is he pouring into the lamp? Curator: Absolutely, the contrast amplifies the mystery. It depicts a ritual. Notice the figure holding what appears to be a pot, possibly for burning incense or something stronger. But more strikingly, the figure seems to be making offerings to a satyr-like figure. It all evokes images of folklore, superstition, and maybe social critique, that may speak about manipulation and its price, for the person conducting and being subjected to bewitchment, in turn, like two sides of a coin. Editor: I wonder what sort of pigments Goya employed to achieve that smoky, unsettling atmosphere. Considering Goya's era, were they locally sourced or did he rely on international trade for his palette? That affects cost, which in turn impacts who can even make such things. Is there arsenic involved, or mercury, materials we now regard differently from a making perspective, yet have indelibly marked culture with both practical and allegorical properties? And, too, is the use of oil itself – how much does that contribute to this particular look and affect we’re getting from Goya? Curator: Fascinating points, surely deserving more technical scrutiny. The composition itself invites reflection: notice how Goya arranged the other phantom-like figures of donkeys in the background, symbols that might speak of irrationality, or even of being led to absurdity, like passive and foolish people usually were figured? Editor: And the social commentary comes through. Donkey-headed spectres. I bet that had impact! Who was funding this work? Did their economic and social status afford Goya a measure of subversive expression through his chosen materials and means? Curator: I think his patrons may have understood, at least partially, the satirical edge. What persists is the stark portrayal of a scene charged with ambiguous meaning; a scene from which you get, with a careful eye, a disquieting resonance about cultural continuity and social criticism, as the painting, literally, brings those narratives into light. Editor: Ultimately it all boils down to who had the means to translate stories and shape perceptions through skilled manipulation of available stuff. I find the act of transforming cheap stuff into cultural products just, well, deeply resonant.