Louvre Presents a Mind-Blowing Exhibition on the ‘Figure of the Fool’

Designed as illustration for Psalm 52 of the Duke of Berry’s psalter, this image shows the fool partially undressed, club in hand, as he bites into a loaf of bread or wheel of cheese. This depiction, one of the earliest on view, draws on the established archetype of the  “poor wretch” with a club, and de Hesdin borrowed this composition from the earlier Hours of Jeanne d’Évreux (1324–28) but he places his fool in a forest setting with a red-patterned background. Also, there is something almost noble about this barefoot man; his draped white cloth is immaculate, giving him an elegant appearance. The long cane on his shoulder hardly resembles a weapon, but rather a sports stick, like the ones that French aristocrats would have used in many 14th-century bowl games.

This etching on chiseled copper, a technique popular in the Rhine Valley beginning around 1440, is attributed to Master E. S., an anonymous German engraver and goldsmith known for his religious as well as his satirical works. The Fool and the Naked Woman with Mirror (also known as Lust and the Fool) features a stripped lady, whose neglected appearance and mirror symbolize lust. Next to her is a male character wearing a hood with bells, the typical outfit of a fool. His pants are falling off and he displays a dumb smile. The parakeet on the rock, visible in other works by Master E. S., conveys sensuality. Here lust and madness are one.

On this 16th-century towel-holder, attributed to sculptor Arnt van Tricht, a fool embraces an elegant lady with her well-rounded bare bosoms. Their faces touch as if they are about to share a kiss. Two miniature fools stand on their shoulders—one plays the bagpipes, the other the drum. A third one pops out of a tear in the fool’s sleeve, staring out at the viewer. According to Dutch art historian Guido de Werd, this sculpture served as a moral warning: beware of the woman who strays from the straight and narrow, she will end up losing her mind. Scholars are still unsure if this work was meant for a patrician interior or a public house; the latter would make more sense given the female character has the same face as Van Tricht’s depiction of Mary Magdalene, the patron saint of penitent sinners and sexual temptation, that he made for the altarpiece of Saint Nicholas Church in Kalkar, Germany.

Because of his shaved skull, his thick neck, and his prognathous jaw, this jester has been identified as Triboulet, the fool of French royal René, the Duke of Anjou and onetime King of Naples. His microcephaly, a birth defect causing him to have a smaller head than average, did not limit him from achieving a significant literary career, both as an actor and a playwright, in an era where such conditions would be disparaged. This marble relief has historically been attributed to Francesco Laurana, who had already designed a medal with Triboulet’s face around the same period, though some critics believe that it could have been the work of Italian sculptor Pietro da Milano, a student of Laurana who was also a member of René of Anjou’s court around 1461. Either way, the artist of this portrait imbued his depiction of Triboulet with the dignity and determined look of a Roman emperor, rather than a buffoon-like representation that was typical of the period.

A popular 16th-century pseudoscientific belief held that madmen could be cured, if rid of a stone embedded in their brains. Hieronymus Bosch painted various scenes of the procedure, called trepanation, either to unmask fake doctors or to point out the stupidity of their patients. Here, the funnel on the surgeon’s head implies that he may be as mad as the man he is operating on. Contrary to what the title indicates, the painting does not show a stone being extracted from the fool’s skull, but a waterlily, a flower whose sexual connotation is reinforced by two elements: the phallic dagger piercing through the patient’s hunting bag and two lines of text in Middle Dutch that reframe the tableaux, “Meester snijt die keye ras/ Myne name is Lubbert Das” (Master, cut out the stone quickly/ My name is Neutered Badger). Whether this work was painted by Bosch himself or by one of his successors is still uncertain.

This oil on panel is attributed to the Master of 1537, an unidentified Flemish painter who was active between 1520 and 1570 and associated with cheeky characters with exaggerated features. This portrait of fool looking through his fingers is quintessential of the Master’s style. The subject’s expression is the literal illustration of a German and Dutch adage about a husband turning a blind eye to his wife’s indiscretions. In 16th-century painting, the saying takes a wider meaning, that of an immoral or illegal situation being tolerated. The same motif can be found in Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s Netherlandish Proverbs(1559), conveying the idea that blind leniency is a gateway to sins that risk turning the world upside down.

This oil on tinplate, painted shortly after Goya had a serious illness that caused deafness and ultimately severely affected his mental health, depicts a yard filled with destitute individuals, including two men fighting and a guard whipping them to stop. This scene, as realistic as it is violent, was inspired by what Goya witnessed in his youth in his hometown of Zaragoza in northeast Spain. His crude representation of lunatics contrasts with the tragicomic touch of Spanish writers, like Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and Diego de Torres Villarroel. This work is part of a series of 12 paintings that was submitted to Madrid’s Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando where they were well received. These experiments paved the way for Goya’s subsequent works tainted with fantasy, madness, and invention, including “Los Caprichos” and “Quinta del Sordo” (House of the Deaf Man).

Charles VI of France is famous for alternating, from 1392 to his death in 1422, between psychotic episodes and periods of lucidity during which he would rule. His mental instability gave artists a subject to paint about. At the 1839 Salon, François-Auguste Biard presented six canvases, including The Exorcism of the Madness of Charles VI. The composition shows two monks carrying out the ritual in question. The chiaroscuro effect symbolizes the dichotomy between lunacy and sanity. The kneeling king, contorted with pain, is supported by a demure woman, either his queen consort Isabeau de Bavière or his mistress Odette de Champdivers, who stares at the viewer. The dramatic tension in the scene can also be interpreted as a nod to William Shakespeare’s play of a mad king from two centuries earlier, King Lear.

In this early self-portrait, Gustave Courbet represented himself at the edge of a cliff, on the verge of falling into an abyss. He is touching his head with his left hand, as to make sure that he is real, and reaching out to us with his other hand, as though looking for someone to hold on to. In 1844, when he made this painting, Courbet was plagued with doubt and uncertainty in his artistic ability. (Some critics believe this dramatic composition to be The Suicide, landscape, a mysterious painting that Courbet retitled a few years after its making and presented at his 1855 personal show.) With that in mind, this self-representation can be seen an allegory of the artist’s misunderstood genius. His striped jacket, an outfit often found on fools, conveys the idea of a spilt personality—the painter was known for oscillating between bouts of despair and fits of confidence.