The Husband-Confessor c. 1770

Editor: We're looking at Jean-Honoré Fragonard's "The Husband-Confessor," created around 1770. It’s a drawing, mainly using charcoal and pen. It strikes me as a very intimate, perhaps even clandestine, scene. What's your take? Curator: Ah, Fragonard. He had a way of capturing those stolen moments, didn’t he? What do I see? Well, imagine yourself as a fly on the wall in this rococo parlor. All these whispers, the dog looking expectantly, the overdressed chap holding back the curtain. One might interpret it as a comment on the theatricality of the aristocracy. Do you think the man on the left feigning illness has perhaps been caught in flagrante delicto? Editor: He certainly seems to be playing up the drama! But a "confessor"... I don't see a priest here. Curator: The husband is the confessor, the figure who discovers the little affair. See, Fragonard likes playing with our assumptions, and giving us a bit of a chuckle at the expense of this era’s rather… performative morality. This sketch has so much fluidity. Do you notice how the composition guides your eye? From the 'sick' man on the left to the central group, then led upwards by that curtain. Very clever. Editor: It's like a stage set. I see what you mean about being performative. So, this isn't necessarily about literal confession, but a kind of societal exposure. Curator: Exactly. We might even question, who is confessing? And what are they really guilty of? The light washes across all of these characters but stops for the figure holding back the curtain, to almost draw your eye to say "it's me! I did it!". Editor: That really changes how I look at it. The Rococo style usually seemed pretty frivolous to me. But with the social commentary… it gives it a different edge. I’ll definitely need to rethink my initial reaction.