About this artwork
Charles Samuel Keene created this lithograph, A Cloaked Figure Passing Through the Street (at the Time of the Plague in London), in 1861. The words “Lord have Mercy Upon Us” on the doorpost, coupled with the figure's cloaked and shadowed form, evoke the atmosphere of the plague-ridden city. This plea for divine mercy is a motif that surfaces repeatedly in times of widespread suffering. We see it echoed in medieval art during the Black Death, and even in modern responses to global pandemics. The shrouded figure itself calls to mind images of the Grim Reaper, a symbol of death that transcends cultures and eras. The posture and the heavy cloak convey feelings of despair, a psychological weight that speaks to our deepest fears. The words on the door are a reminder of our continuous, cyclical dance with disease, a grim choreography played out across history.
A Cloaked Figure Passing Through the Street (at the Time of the Plague in London) c. 1861
Artwork details
- Medium
- drawing, print, paper, ink
- Dimensions
- 137 × 184 mm (image); 155 × 103 mm (plate); 203 × 136 mm (sheet)
- Location
- The Art Institute of Chicago
- Copyright
- Public Domain
Tags
drawing
narrative-art
pen illustration
paper
ink
line
genre-painting
Comments
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About this artwork
Charles Samuel Keene created this lithograph, A Cloaked Figure Passing Through the Street (at the Time of the Plague in London), in 1861. The words “Lord have Mercy Upon Us” on the doorpost, coupled with the figure's cloaked and shadowed form, evoke the atmosphere of the plague-ridden city. This plea for divine mercy is a motif that surfaces repeatedly in times of widespread suffering. We see it echoed in medieval art during the Black Death, and even in modern responses to global pandemics. The shrouded figure itself calls to mind images of the Grim Reaper, a symbol of death that transcends cultures and eras. The posture and the heavy cloak convey feelings of despair, a psychological weight that speaks to our deepest fears. The words on the door are a reminder of our continuous, cyclical dance with disease, a grim choreography played out across history.
Comments
No comments