Goya — Selected Works

Winter Scene

Francisco Goya — 1780

Two groups of working-class travelers, one with a slaughtered pig in tow, converge on an icy road during a snowstorm. Francisco de Goya captured the scene’s wintry atmosphere with barren trees, large swaths of cool grays and whites, and diagonal brushstrokes that convey rapid snowfall. This small painting is one of a series of studies Goya created for monumental tapestries depicting the four seasons, commissioned for a dining hall at the Royal Palace of El Pardo in Spain. The image would have been scaled up to life-size and then manufactured by weavers in Spain’s Royal Tapestry Factory. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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Boy on a Ram

Francisco Goya — 1786

As painter to the king of Spain, Francisco de Goya also designed tapestries for the royal residences. The artist made small oil sketches to work out the designs, followed by full-scale painted cartoons that served as guides for the weavers at the king’s tapestry works. This cartoon was produced for a tapestry in a series decorating the dining room in the Palace of El Pardo outside Madrid. The room’s large panels illustrate a traditional decorative subject, the four seasons, but Goya exercised his imagination in the smaller panels above the doors, producing scenes of children and animals like this one. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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Young Woman (possibly a Sex Worker) with a Man (recto); Young Woman Wringing Her Hands over a Man's Naked Body (verso)

Francisco Goya — 1796

Among the great figures of the pictorial arts in the West, Francisco de Goya is one of the very few whose work as a graphic artist is arguably even more important than his paintings. Alongside a prodigious output of prints, he created eight sketchbooks of drawings over the course of 30 years. This double-sided sheet comes from the so-called Album B, or Madrid Album, which, like all of them, was scattered throughout the world in public and private collections after his death. The drawings reveal Goya’s powers of invention and observation, and his biting satire. On the recto side of the sheet, a vulgar encounter between a prostitute and a pot-bellied lecher reveals the bluntness of the Goya’s social criticism. The verso drawing is less easily pinned down, though it follows traditional iconography for representations of Saint Margaret of Cortona, a nobleman’s mistress who repented and entered a convent after her lover’s dog led her to his murdered corpse.

Collection: The Cleveland Museum of Art · CC0 · Source image ↗

Saint Ambrose

Francisco Goya — 1796

This work belongs to a series depicting Ambrose, Jerome, Augustine, and Gregory, key figures of early Catholicism. Saint Ambrose (about AD 340–391), the bishop of Milan, resolved important theological conflicts within the church and worked effectively with advocates of Roman paganism. The low viewpoint and large scale suggest that this painting hung high on the wall of a religious institution, but its original location remains unknown. In the late 1700s, Spain expelled all the Jesuits and sparked a transformation of the church. Many of these reformers turned back to early church history for inspiration, and this painting was probably commissioned by one of these new organizations.

Collection: The Cleveland Museum of Art · CC0 · Source image ↗

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, plate 43 from Los Caprichos

Francisco Goya — 1797

Hovering between the grotesque and the comical, Francisco de Goya’s series Los caprichos ( Whims or Fantasies ) consists of 80 etchings satirizing Spanish society during the late 18th century. For this iconic image, which may have been intended as the title page of the series, Goya represented himself as an artist who has fallen asleep at his drawing table. In the background are his nightmares, the macabre tormenters that pervade the rest of these prints. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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Here Comes the Bogeyman, plate three from Los Caprichos

Francisco Goya — 1797

Plate 3 of The Caprices features a mother with her two children who are frightened by a blanketed figure of el coco (the bogeyman) in the foreground. The mother’s expression contrasts with those of her children: she smiles in gratitude and appreciation. Goya is criticizing the common practice of using fear to keep children well behaved. The print also contains a spelling error, as Goya spells viene , the Spanish verb for “to come,” incorrectly. This is a common mistake due to similarity in sounds between the Spanish b and v . He corrected it in later editions of the print. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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There They Go Plucked (i.e. fleeced), plate 20 from Los Caprichos

Francisco Goya — 1797

In Los caprichos (meaning caprices or whims), a series of etchings by Francisco de Goya, the artist presented his veiled criticisms of late-18th-century Spanish society. Here he depicted ne’er-do-wells—in the form of plucked chicken-men—being cheated by prostitutes. Emphasizing the intended moral of the work’s title, Goya commented of the chickenmen: “If they have already been plucked, get them out: there will be others coming along.” He went so far as to express his anticlerical attitude—dangerous for a man living during the Spanish Inquisition—by including two friars, who stand behind the prostitutes, tolerating, if not condoning, the scene before them. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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They Spin Finely, Plate 44

Francisco Goya — 1799

Francisco de Goya creatively engaged with printmaking, producing bold and innovative compositions. This impression is a rare trial proof printed in sepia ink before publication of the series Los Caprichos , whose title translates as “caprices” or “artistic fantasies.” As one of the earliest sheets printed from the plate, it retains Goya’s subtle layers of tonal aquatint absent in later impressions. Note, for example, the slight shift in tone between the pale skin and white blouse of the woman in the foreground whose spinning, a common euphemism for sex work, is likely the subject of the artist’s elaborate critique.

Collection: The Cleveland Museum of Art · CC0 · Source image ↗

Friar Pedro Shoots El Maragato as His Horse Runs Off

Francisco Goya — 1801

In the summer of 1806 in Spain, on the run after a prison escape, the dreaded bandit El Maragato overtook a family in their home and held them hostage. Among the family members was Pedro de Zaldivia, a lay Franciscan brother who stopped by the house to beg for alms. The humble monk ended up turning the tables on his captor, seizing El Maragato’s rifle and shooting him in the thigh to subdue him before he could grab another gun from his horse. The story of the heroic friar swept through Spain, not only via reports in newspapers and pamphlets but also in ballads and prints. Although at the time Francisco Goya was chief painter to the Spanish king, he was interested in the range of human experience, including current events, and the tale of Zaldivia and El Maragato evidently captured his imagination. This small, lively painting belongs to a series of six at the Art Institute, which, like a modern-day comic strip, dramatically illustrates the story. The climactic scene here presents the bandit’s degrading and humorous downfall. As in all the panels, Goya’s broad, quick brushwork dispenses with unnecessary detail to pinpoint the essential drama of the moment. This narrative series stands in marked contrast to the portraits of royalty and nobility that make up much of Goya’s painted works. His other small-format paintings similarly treat traditional pastimes, superstitions, and scenes from daily life with a popular realism that is oft en darkly comic in tone. Goya may have created the El Maragato series for his own amusement rather than as a commission, since they were still listed among his possessions in an 1812 inventory. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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El Maragato Threatens Friar Pedro de Zaldivia with His Gun

Francisco Goya — 1801

In small, lively paintings made for his own pleasure or for a few discerning patrons, Francisco de Goya explored satirical and popular aspects of Spanish life. This series was inspired by a contemporary event, the capture of notorious criminal El Maragato by Friar Pedro de Saldivia in 1806. After escaping from prison, El Maragato spent two months stealing food, guns, and money before trying to take Friar Pedro and other innocent people hostage. The friar outsmarted the bandit, however, seizing his gun, shooting him in the thigh as he tried to flee, and finally tying him up. This story was extremely popular in the early 19th century and Spanish artists memorialized it in images, poems, and songs. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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Portrait of General José Manuel Romero

Francisco Goya — 1805

The early 19th century was a troubled time in Spain. After Napoleon placed his brother, Joseph Bonaparte, on the Spanish throne in 1808, the people rose up in rebellion, eventually driving the French out with the help of the British army. Although his own sentiments were patriotic and liberal, Francisco de Goya dutifully fulfilled his obligations as first painter to the king. This is a portrait of José Manuel Romero, a minister under Joseph Bonaparte, although the degree to which the man is overwhelmed by his splendid court uniform and decorations may suggest a certain lack of sympathy on the part of the artist. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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A Heroic Feat! With Dead Men!, plate 39 from The Disasters of War

Francisco Goya — 1812

This harrowing image mocks any notion of the possibility of heroic or admirable consequences of war. Yet much later, Vargi Aivazian of the TASS Window studio turned horror into humor by using this very image as inspiration for his sardonic TASS 634, Holiday Tree Ornaments . Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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And they are like wild beasts, plate five from The Disasters of War

Francisco Goya — 1812

Even mothers are driven to violence, as this image depicts. A woman holds a child on her left hip, even as she thrusts a spear into a French soldier with her right arm. In the background, other women assault the enemy by various means or languish from their wounds. The striking juxtaposition of the maternal with violent aggression serves to communicate the desperate conditions of the Peninsular War. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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The Agility and Audacity of Juanito Apinani in the ring at Madrid, plate 20 from The Art of Bullfighting

Francisco Goya — 1814

From 1785 to 1814, the laws regulating bullfighting in Spain were changed four times by succeeding governments. These regulations varied wildly depending on the government’s political bent, ranging from outright prohibition to free admission for all. Due to its politicization, bullfighting became a useful metaphor for societal conflict, which Francisco de Goya employed to obliquely comment on the Spanish body politic. For instance, Goya often pictured the spectators as compositionally divided—either huddled at the right of the print or crowded to the left as in this work—recalling stark divisions in Spanish society. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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Truth has died, plate 79 from The Disasters of War

Francisco Goya — 1815

Though not the last plate of the series, this print finalizes its central themes in a profound manner, claiming that truth itself is dead. Here, personified by a shining corpse about to be buried, truth connotes constitutional liberty. Justice is featured at the right, clasping her scales in her left hand. She covers her face, perhaps weeping, as if she cannot bear the scene before her. By ending the series on this note of despair, Francisco de Goya brought an answer to the question of what must come to pass ( plate one )—the final blow of war is that truth is dead and justice despondent. Text: Art Institute of Chicago, CC BY 4.0

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