Since I'm on a Fragonard kick, I thought I'd better include a post solely about that infamous, scurvy, gorgeous painting, that little bugbear that would posthumously label him a puff in many eyes, the rococo masterpiece The Swing.
It happened one day that the baron de Saint-Julien, who held the position of receiver general of the Clergy of France, sauntered up to l'artiste du jour of the late 1760s--the painter Gabriel-Francois Doyen--and proposed a rather unusual request. Now Doyen was a good boy...there was no way in hell (literally, because he was under church patronage) that he was going to paint a picture of the baron and his beautiful young mistress on a swing being pushed by--gasp--the bishop! (The baron of course is the man gazing up at the young woman's, a-hem, legs.)
So. Doyen directed the baron to Fragonard, which is pretty revealing about our little Frago's reputation at the time, and he served it up, all pinks and blues.
It's full of Freudian symbolism; swinging implies sexual intercourse, while the twisting and writhing trunks and bursting flowers are indicative of the baron's sexual joy (and excruciation, with the presence of the bishop). And the Cupid raises his finger to his lips: "Shhh...a secret love affair!"
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