Augustus closes the doors of the Temple of Janus - Carle Vanloo

Booklet from the 1765 Salon:

"By the late M. Carle Vanloo, premier Peintre du Roi, Chevalier de son Ordre, Directeur de l'Académie Royale de Peinture & de Sculpture, Directeur de l'Ecole Royale des Elèves protégés.
N°1. Augustus closes the doors of the Temple of Janus.
This Painting, 9 feet 8 inches high by 8 feet 4 inches wide, is intended for my Gallery at Choisy."

Mercure de France, October 1765, p. 145:

"Among the number of precious remains of the Artist we regret, the most apparent piece represents Augustus, closing the gates of the Temple of Janus (3). The composition of this painting is rich, well-ordered & responds to the grandeur of the subject. We have heard some criticism of the number & volume of objects in relation to the space of the scene. Is this criticism justified if, as cannot be disputed, there is enough air between each figure for the eye to turn easily? Moreover, it should be considered that to represent this important ceremony well, the multitude of figures was indispensable, that the extent of the canvas was obligatory, that the choice of subject was no less so, & that this subject is of the happiest analogy to the place for which it is destined, & to the Monarch who inhabits it (4). We are (as are many of the connoisseurs consulted) very far from finding any coldness in this composition, as is suggested in one brochure (5). All the characters in this scene have the movement & expression they should have. The action of the Priests closing the doors of the Temple is sufficiently animated; that of the crowd of spectators, is relative to the feeling of joy & admiration in which they should be. The circumstance which the painter had to put before our eyes, was undoubtedly one of the most august & considerable in the Roman Empire; but the external ceremonial did not include more play in the figures, & the Artist even added accessories which animate & enrich it. It is for this reason that we must tolerate the kind of inactivity reproached in the figure of Augustus. We don't want to risk examining whether it would be possible to give him more interest, & to link his expression more closely to the action of the subject. There is unanimous agreement on the truth and harmony of color in this painting, as well as on the accuracy of the costume. In general, it captured the viewer's attention, it drew the eye, and the effect seemed very satisfying. We can confidently advance that this posthumous production, by one of the finest Painters of our age, will never derogate from the reputation of its Author, nor the honor of its destination.

(3) This painting is nine feet eight inches high by eight feet four inches wide. The late M. Carle Vanloo was working on it when death came to take it away from the Ecole Françoise. It was finished by M. Michel Vanloo, his nephew.
(4) This painting is for the Galerie de Choisy.
(5) This brochure is entitled: Lettres à M**. sur les ouvrages de Peinture, &c.

Commentary by Diderot, Salon de 1765:

To the right of the beholder, the temple of Janus placed so that the doors can be seen. Beyond the doors, against the temple façade, the statue of Janus on a pedestal. Below, a tripod with its lid, on the ground. A priest dressed in white, both hands clasped in a large iron ring, closes the doors, which are covered at the top, bottom and middle with wide strips of sheet metal. Next to this priest, further back, two other priests dressed like the first. Opposite the closing priest, a child carries an urn, watching the ceremony. In the middle of the stage, and at the front, Augustus alone, standing, in military garb, in silence, an olive branch in his hand. At Augustus' feet, on the same plane, a child, one knee on the ground, a basket on his other knee, and holding flowers. Behind the emperor, a young priest, whose head is almost all that can be seen. On the left, some distance away, a mixed troop of people and soldiers. On the same side, at the very end of the canvas, and in front, a senator seen from the back and holding a roll of paper. This is what Vanloo likes to call a public festival. It seems to me that since the temple here is not a pure accessory, a mere background decoration, it should have been shown off more and not made into a poor, petty factory. These iron bands covering the doors are wide and to good effect. As for this Janus, it looks like two bad Egyptian figures side by side. Why put the saint of the day against a wall like that? This priest, who pulls the doors, pulls them wonderfully; he's beautiful in action, drapery and character. I say the same of his neighbors. Their heads are beautiful, painted in a grand, simple and true manner. The touch is masculine and strong. If there's another artist capable of doing the same, name him. The little urn-bearer is heavy, and perhaps superfluous. This other flower-thrower is charming, well imagined, and a perfect fit. He throws his flowers with grace, too much grace perhaps: he looks like Aurora shaking them with her fingertips. As for your Auguste, Monsieur Vanloo, he's miserable. Wasn't there a student in your studio who dared to tell you that he was stiff, ignoble and short; that he was dressed up like an actress, and that the red drapery with which you adorned him hurt the art and detracted from the painting? Now that's an emperor! With that long palm clinging to his left shoulder, he's a member of the Jerusalem brotherhood returning from the procession. And that priest I see behind him, what does he want with his box and his silly, embarrassed action? This senator, embarrassed by his robe and paper, with his back to me, a filler figure that the fullness of his garment at the bottom makes thin and slender at the top. And what does it all mean? Where's the interest? Where's the subject? Closing the Temple of Janus means announcing general peace in the empire, rejoicing, a festival; and no matter how I scan the canvas, I don't see the slightest vestige of joy. It's cold; it's insipid; it's all dreary silence, a sadness to perish. It's a vestal funeral. If I'd had this subject to execute, I'd have shown the temple more. My Janus would have been large and beautiful. I would have placed a tripod at the temple door; young children crowned with flowers would have burned perfumes on it. There would have stood a great priest, venerable in expression, drapery and character. Behind this priest, I would have grouped a few others. Priests have always been jealous observers of sovereigns; the latter would have sought to decipher what they had to fear or hope from the new master. I would have fixed their watchful eyes on him. Augustus, accompanied by Agrippa and Maecenas, would have ordered the temple to be closed; he would have made the gesture. The priests, their hands clasped in the ring, would have been ready to obey. I would have assembled a tumultuous crowd of people, which the soldiers would have had great difficulty containing. Above all, I would have wanted my scene to be well lit. Nothing adds to gaiety like the light of a fine day. The Saint-Sulpice procession wouldn't have gone out in dark, cloudy weather like this. Yet if in the artist's absence fire had taken hold of this composition, and spared only the group of priests, and a few heads scattered here and there, we would all have cried out at the aspect of these precious remains : What a shame !

The limited space of the stage is delimited at the front by the steps of the temple of Janus, which a young man is sprinkling with flowers, at the back by the first spectators of the scene : on the left, a senator; behind Augustus on the left a young temple servant in white ; on the right, a priest.
This theatrical scene thus delineated is occupied by Augustus, who here holds the speech of peace: the painting therefore paints Augustus' political speech, which is signified by the double gesture of his hands, the olive branch on the left, the index finger pointing to the closed temple door on the right.
The statue of Janus overlooks the restricted space of the scene : one of the heads looks at Augustus, the other - at the crowd of Romans assembled in the background. Janus thus establishes a relay between foreground and background. Likewise, Augustus, using his two hands, is actually leading the senators, on the left, to consent to peace, at the closed door on the right: he too establishes a relay, this time from left to right.
. Two semiological logics are thus at work in this painting : in the foreground, the walk establishes the theatrical, restricted space of the stage and identifies the surface of the canvas with an invisible 4th wall, a screen, which the eye crosses to penetrate the depth of the representation. This invisible boundary is doubled in the background, by the human screen formed by the first spectators. On the other side of this second screen, Janus observes the scene, metaphorizing from the back of the painting the gaze that we, the spectators, cast in front of it.
Superimposed on this system of screen-cuts is another system of screen-continuum, establishing relays, making spaces communicate : Augustus makes the left communicate with the right of the painting, makes the senators acquiesce to his policy of peace, while Janus makes the front communicate with the background of the painting, makes the invisible crowd participate in the discourse taking place in the foreground.