In the early 1700s, Art in the hands of a painter and interior designer such as the Belgian painter Watteau or the French painter Fragonard became ‘visions of a life divorced from hardship….a dream-life of picnics in fairy parks where it never rains….where ladies are beautiful…dressed in sparkling silk….’ Gombrich. EH, the Story of Art. We might call such art escapist today but by the same token, the overly decorated interiors of churches of the day with cherubs smiling down from azure ceilings with their fluffy clouds were meant to overawe the peasantry, who dressed in various shades of brown and had little to look forward to in their inevitably short lives, with promises of Paradise. Few lived to middle-age and fewer still made it out of the cradle. The rich and aristocratic picnicing, dancing at balls and eating pheasant – well not everyone made it through childbirth but at least a nutritious diet was guaranteed – they lived in another world anyway and advantageously made it into the history books as bastions and heroes of the age. The art style was called Rococo – Gombrich called it the ‘fancy dress party of art’. However we view it now, it was seen then a version of paradise on earth.

The appeal of paradise remains strong today in some corners of the world but in the western world the accent is not on waiting for death but on finding hedonistic ways to enjoy life even if the methods might actually kill you. Recreational drugs, jumping off tall buildings and even forming relationships are all fraught with existential threat if the evening news is anything to go by. The author Noah Harari in Homo Deus saw the future quite differently with science looking to not just improve the quality of human life but to extend human life indefinitely and treat death as a question of mechanical intervention. If that is to be the case we may well need a modern Watteau just to provide an alternative reality even if it originates in the gaming industry via a VR headset.

1722 Europe was characterised by financial shocks and stock market bubbles, a controversial vaccine keeping the barely-recognised smallpox virus at bay, Russia invading a neighbouring nation and the Versailles legacy of Louis XIV bankrupting France. Not much has changed it would seem. Three centuries later inflation, Covid, Putin and the excesses of royalty still dominate the news.  About the only new concern is with climate which was incidentally initiated as a problem during the same era via the Industrial Revolution but ignored in the face of human progress. So, apart from Art as a propaganda tool in the hands of climate-action art vandals who see expensive cultural objects as fair game, the question in my mind is ‘what role does art play in 2022 if death, disease, inflation and other motivational subjects have ceased to be of importance?’ A recent sold-out exhibition in Adelaide of birds and insects on abstract backgrounds, probably told me the answer. Decoration. Then there was an article by Danielle Thom in art Review this week that reinforced that view with her discussion of actual Rococo imitation in Frieze London. Whereas Art led the way in 1722 with a style characterised by lightness, asymmetric curves and natural motifs, today [and it can’t be just coincidence that most of the artists working in a Rococo mould and showing at the London Frieze are women] the decorative otherworldliness of subject matter and approach is everywhere whether it be wildlife on canvas or pretty abstract paintings. [That isn’t to say that there aren’t any number of women artists tackling the thorny issues of race and gender]. Even in its original form, Rococo was seen as fundamentally feminine/effeminate. Protestant England and a church run by men saw it as corrupt, suspicious and frivolous. We are more forgiving these days as a society and there is no doubt that the male dominated art world of 1722 has become the female dominated art scene of 2022 even if the high prices paid at auction tend to still favour the male contingent.

It’s also interesting to note that both pinkness and mirrors are everywhere now, staples of Rococo interior design. Marie Antoinette had lots of both. I have a friend who revels in being the pinkest object in the landscape and it isn’t the delicacy of fuchsia that dominates her wardrobe but vigorous hot pinks of every hue. With the reliance on the selfie to provide a mirror to the world in contemporary times it is no coincidence that in earlier times mirrors and windows were needed to invigorate rooms still awaiting the electric light bulb and sheets of glass not much bigger than a bottle base. In the time of Marie and Louis XIV, beauty was seen as illusory – make up worn by men and women was caked on to say the least to hide blemishes and smallpox scars. It may well be caked on now in the quest for perfection that matches the images in ads creating what can only be described as essentially all style and no substance. Blame not just a century of advertising though but the current crop of Instagram influencers who decree the boundaries of personal appearance as much as Marie Antoinette did in the French court. One example today is the pink undulating frame of the revived Ultrafragola mirror of 1970 which appears in the backgrounds of numerous influencer shots giving a warm glow of self-regard – all the better to admire oneself in the world of the endless selfie. Madame Pompadour would be proud. While she had only the minions of the court as sources of feedback for an exalted ego, today’s admirers are legion in their quest for Rococo frivolity and the rush for Ultrafragola mirrors has outstripped supply. No doubt, an ordinary mirror surrounded decorously with selfie photos pinned at jaunty angles will suffice for those faced with extensive delays in the postal services.

Rococo could be seen as a product of its time or it could be seen as a recurring phenomenon. Whenever a combination of runaway inflation coupled with violent adjustments in the stock market align with Russian aggression and the odd rampant disease, we can expect Art to withdraw into a pleasant fantasy world of pinkness, birds, insects, flora and seashells – I guess that’s got to be better than one peopled by action heroes with the tools to destroy humanity from behind a keyboard. Distinctions of gender are less at play in 2022 and the religious angle is only for the few who still believe that there is a better world awaiting, but my pink-loving friend would say that her choice of fashion has nothing to do with art, politics or escapism. She is her own work of art.