Britain’s Forgotten Romantic

Hiding in plain sight – the secret art of James Barry.

If there was a piece of art in central London that had been compared to the Sistine Chapel, you’d expect it to attract queues around the block. Yet, unbeknown to thousands of daily commuters, theatre-goers and tourists traversing London’s Strand, a few metres away lies a hidden but surprising secret.

Running parallel to this major thoroughfare is the historic John Adam Street, with its fine houses, some even dating back to the late 17th century. Towards the street’s eastern end is what remains of the historic Adelphi – a Georgian re-development of the former Durham House Estate. Adelphi (Greek for ‘brothers’) was the brainchild of sibling Scottish architects John, James and
Robert Adam.

At Number 8 John Adam Street, we find the home of the Royal Society of Arts (RSA). The building’s flagship space, reached via an exquisitely mosaicked staircase, is its classically-proportioned Great Room. In here, high up on the walls, sits the remarkable work of an early Romantic artist. He was the gifted but cantankerous history painter, James Barry (1741-1806). It is perhaps surprising that Barry’s reputation is not better known and celebrated. This pioneering artist was a major influence on William Blake, whose own creative vision verges on the surreal. Blake died a pauper yet today his legacy is rightly celebrated. Barry also died in poverty and his art has been somewhat forgotten as the years have gone by.

The Great Room
James Barry’s work for the Great Room comprises six major scenes on ten huge canvasses in an almost continuous band, each is 3.61m high. Having seen off both the developers’ wrecking ball and Hitler’s bombs, the Great Room is still home to this stunning art. These canvasses were restored and re-stretched in 1996. Today, they are in remarkable condition. Yet, few people know these works are here – or that they can be seen by us all, for free.

The paintings collectively comprise Barry’s masterpiece, Progress of Human Culture (1777-84). TV historian Andrew Graham-Dixon calls the work: “London’s answer to the Sistine Chapel”. But how – and why – did this crowning achievement find its way to the RSA’s Great Room?

The RSA we know today, began life in an 18th century London coffee house, as the ‘Society for the Improvement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce’. The Society was very much a product of the Age of Enlightenment. As the decades progressed, it re-shaped itself in response to changing times and shifting priorities. Like London itself, The Society’s story is one of ongoing re-invention. The RSA’s 271-year evolution has seen it champion: artists, inventions, exhibitions, environmentalism, education, examinations, blue plaques, safety devices – and much more besides. The Society, has, in the words of its historian Anton Howes, “Tried to improve British life in every way imaginable”.

The RSA’s Great Room was originally designed as an elegant assembly chamber for debates, discussions and the presentation of awards and medals. Some saw this grand epicentre of ideas and inventions as a potential alternative to Parliament, giving a platform for ideas and a voice to those excluded from Westminster circles. It was here that the British public first saw a demonstration of Thomas Edison’s incandescent light bulb. The Great Room also witnessed the world’s first display of wireless telegraphy. In 1920, inventor Frederick G Creed arranged for a telegraphed message to be signalled from the Eiffel Tower and printed in the Great Room.

In an unprecedented alliance with the Society, Barry created his work for the Great Room completely unsupervised. Just as ideas of original genius were beginning to take root, he wanted to seize the moment to forge his reputation as a pioneering intellect. As his masterpiece bears testament, Barry was a gifted artist. He was also a tricky customer. His Wikipedia entry refers to his “Notoriously belligerent personality”.

Anglo Irish orator and statesman Edmund Burke became an early patron of James-Barry. Portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds 1769

History painting
Barry came from a working-class Irish family from Cork. His talent was spotted early on. In Dublin, Anglo-Irish politician Edmund Burke (the father of modern Conservatism) became an early patron. In London, Burke introduced Barry to Scottish artist and man of letters, the Neoclassical pioneer, James ‘Athenian’ Stuart. Barry further honed his romantic style after his Grand Tour to France and Italy. He settled mainly in Rome and met sculptor Joseph Nollekens.

Overwhelmed by the achievements of the Renaissance masters, Barry’s continental adventures reinforced his conviction to paint elevated subjects with a clear moral message and an objective to educate. Barry’s chosen genre, his sacred calling no less, was history painting. Renaissance artistic theory defined this as the very pinnacle of western art. It drew on universal sources, biblical and classical references and stories from history. This was seen to demand the utmost vision and imagination from the artist. In the established hierarchy of genres, history painting was pre-eminent. It surpassed portraiture, scenes of everyday life, landscapes, still life and pictures of animals.

According to Professor Emeritus of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum, Antony Griffiths, Barry made numerous prints of his art throughout his life – mainly to pay the bills. “There are a number of [his] works in the British Museum. But these were often printed on such poor quality paper they simply fall apart when touched,” said Griffiths.

The six scenes – a game of two halves
The first three paintings in the Great Hall depict the advance of classical culture and civilisation.

One: We see Thracian bard Orpheus bringing culture to savage humanity. Orpheus joined Jason and the Argonauts on their epic adventures. He is best remembered for his ill-fated journey into the underworld to bring his wife Eurydice back from the dead. We see Orpheus with his beautiful poetry and his lyre, luring the primitive and near-naked flock away from their barbaric ways. A woman with a dead fawn carelessly draped over a shoulder now seems becalmed by the civilising nature of Orpheus’s music. She leans on her male companion for support. Here’s a poet with a rare talent for mesmerising all about him.

Orpheus with his lyre @thersaorg

Two: We see how Greek society has moved on. People have worked together to plant and nurture crops. Agrarian society is flourishing and the harvest is celebrated in a fleeting moment of music and merriment. Beautiful people dance around a figure of Sylvanus and Pan. Looking down from the heavens, with approval, are the gods Bacchus, Pan and Ceres (the goddess of grain crops and agriculture).

Competition and excellence at the Olympiad. The Discorges of Rhodes is held aloft on the shoulders of younger men @meetmrlondoner

Three: Across the entire north wall, and dominating the room, is the ultimate flowering of Greek achievement – the Olympic Games. With the Parthenon as a backdrop, we see an armed foot racer. The legendary but now ageing sportsman, Disgorges of Rhodes, is held aloft on the shoulders of younger, now stronger, men. Victors are crowned with laurel leaves. Unlike the Olympic Games of today, this race of heroes is, in the words of Barry historian, William Pressly, “Not based on an exceptional gene pool, but the promotion of virtuous standards and ethical conduct.” There are bawdy references guaranteed to raise a smile. Barry also includes an arresting, but curiously careworn, version of his baggy-eyed 35-year-old self. It’s in the bottom left-hand corner of the work. To the right, a bold new narrative appears. The artist has changed gear. We move from Ancient Greece to contemporary England, entering into a discourse on national priorities. Barry’s stated aim here was to “Spotlight the abilities of our own people”.

Commerce, or the Triumph of the Thames. It depicts Old Father Thames as a steadfast symbol of London @thersaorg

Four: Britain’s global expansion is highlighted in a heroic group portrait depicting The Triumph of the Thames. We see the embodiment of London in the steadfast shape of Old Father Thames. He steers an ancient craft but sturdy craft and receives goods from across the globe. This is a celebration of British commercial superiority and maritime triumph.

William Shipley bottom left, Lord Romney, centre and the Prince of Wales @thersaorg

Five: This is an idealised scene of the Society (now the RSA) distributing premiums. Premiums were the cash prizes awarded to encourage new inventions as the age of enlightenment started to give way to the age of industry. Draughtsman, art teacher and minor gentleman, William Shipley, founded the Society to re-direct his countrymen’s natural self-interests to the common good. Shipley believed collective action could improve the nation. This was simple idea with potentially huge benefits. Inventions focussed on everything from workers’ safety to the milling of grain. We see Shipley sitting on the picture’s far left, the Prince of Wales stands beside him. The Society’s second President, Lord Romney, receives corn from a farmer. On the picture’s right is Barry’s patron, Edmund Burke. Nearby is the inventor of the dictionary, Dr Samuel Johnson and the Scottish anatomist and physician William Hunter.

The key to eternity – The Elect in Elysium @thersaorg

Six: Above the door we see The Elect in Elysium and the Damned in Tartarus. This impressive work is 42-ft long. Elysium is the Greek idea of Heaven, or Nirvana. It is reached by the righteous after a journey across the Styx. Tartarus is Hell. In Greek mythology, this is the deep abyss. It’s where lost and tortured souls abide. Here the wicked are judged and receive divine punishment. Contemporary figures feature, more happily, in Elysium, some of whom were still alive at the time of painting. You might spot William Shakespeare, the light above reflecting off his balding head.

Barry’s history painting is an allegory. Quite simply, he wanted to make the nation more virtuous. Through The Progress of Human Culture, the artist shows us how, with the right input and instruction, society can progress from dark savagery to agrarian harmony and, ultimately, to competitive excellence. There are numerous interpretations of these vast canvasses – political, social, erotic, spiritual and more. Naturally, the work has its critics too – for its “Weak draughtsmanship and flabby rhetoric”.  James Barry however saw his painting as an initiation into ancient mysteries. And, like all art, it is subjective and open to interpretation.

The canvasses took Barry seven years to complete. Even then, he kept popping back to make further changes. At one point it is said that he took possession of the key to the Great Room, refusing access to Secretary of the Society. One can only imagine how that might have gone down.

Romantic vision
Barry became Professor of Painting at the Royal Academy – an organisation with its origins at the RSA. (The Society held Britain’s first ever organised art exhibition in 1760). He set out his romantic vision of the importance of history painting in his lectures. Barry’s personality verged on victimhood and the paranoid. He believed his genius was not properly recognised or understood. He soon fell out with his fellow academicians, at one point even accusing them of burgling his home. To this day, Barry remains the only person to be expelled from the Royal Academy – for maliciously and repeatedly slandering its leaders.

Barry’s grave showing evidence of war damage, lies between those of fellow artists Turner and Millais at St Paul’s Cathedral, London @meetmrlondoner

It is perhaps because of this reputation for belligerence and challenging character that Barry’s legacy is not better known and more widely celebrated. However, at the instigation of the Society, he was buried in St Paul’s Cathedral. James Barry lies today alongside some of Britain’s greatest artists, including: JWM Turner, John Everett Millais and Joshua Reynolds. Before his burial however, Barry’s body was lain in state in the Great Room, surrounded by his life’s work.

”The Society’s history mostly involved trying to change a nation,” concludes RSA historian Anton Howes in Arts and Minds, his 2020 history of the RSA. The Progress of Human Culture still speaks powerfully to our own times and to the Society’s ongoing mission. It provides a dramatic backdrop for talks and events at the RSA, an organisation committed, as ever, to uniting people and ideas to regenerate our changing world.

* Cover image: James Barry’s Self-portrait as Timanthes. C.1780 and 1803, National Gallery of Ireland Collection. Photo @National Gallery of Ireland.

 

About the Author

The RSA is a charity. It is open to members of the public and Fellows alike, who can enjoy its coffee house, cocktail bar and library – or hire its beautiful rooms. Antony Robbins is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, a writer and former museum director, Mr Londoner. Meet Mr Londoner here