The Musée d’Orsay organised an exhibition in 1994 dedicated to the development of the earliest French museums. Entitled La jeunesse des musées. Les musées de France au XIXe siécle, the event posed questions regarding the pillars on which these artistic institutions stood, and their role among the citizenship: Places of study? Spaces in which to display national or local identity? Venues for gatherings and entertainment? Museology in the late 1990s and the early twenty-first century focused especially on the political discourse deriving from museum collections. Museums began to be envisaged as agents of social transformation integrated into historical narratives, as shown in the work by Dominique Poulot (1991Poulot, D. (1991) De l’héritage monnumental á l’entreprise de patrimoine : pour une histoire de la transmission culturelle en France, XVIIIe-XXe.Florence: European University Institute., 1997Poulot, D. (1997) Musée, nation, patrimoine, 1789-1815. Paris: Gallimard.), Edouard Pommer (1995Pommer, E., coord. (1995) Les musées en Europe à la veille de l'ouverture du Louvre.Paris: Louvre.), Pierre Gèal (2005Géal, P. (2005) La naissance des musées d’art en Espagne (XVIIIE-XIXE siècles).Madrid: Casa de Velázquez.) or Francis Haskell (2002Haskell, F. (2002) El museo efímero: los maestros antiguos y el auge de las exposiciones artísticas. Barcelona: Crítica.). However, in this renewed interest in museological studies, one aspect was sidelined despite representing an essential element in the development and evolution of museums: the public.
In the catalogue for the above-mentioned exhibition, Poulot (1994Poulot, D. (1994) “Le musée et ses visiteurs.” In: C. Georgel, ed., La Jeunesse des Musees. Les Musees. Les Musees de France Au XIX Siecle. Paris: Reunión des Musees Nationaux, pp. 332-350., p. 332) stated that, unlike other disciplines such as the history of the theatre or the history of reading, the study of visitors to nineteenth-century museums was still unexplored. Little was known of those who had walked through the galleries and halls of Europe’s great museums. The history of their foundation underscored their democratising influence on the arts, making it possible for any citizen to access this source of knowledge independently of their provenance or social class (McClellan, 2012McClellan, A. (2012) “Musée du Louvre. Paris: Palace of the People. Art for all.” In: P. Carole, ed., The First Modern Museums of Art. The Birth of an Institution in 18th- and early- 19th-Century Europe. Los Ángeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, pp. 213-236.). However, primary sources—ranging from regulations to visual documents such as paintings, vignettes or caricatures—offer a different panorama. Although over twenty-five years have passed since Poulot’s appreciation of museum visitors, there is still much to be explored and learned. A considerable impulse has been given to this matter by visitor studies: these typically feature multidisciplinary methods stemming from various fields of study such as sociology, anthropology, linguistics and market surveys, and their aim is centred on understanding the role of museums today and why and for whom they are needed. These issues, essential in recent decades to museological and museographical studies, have been researched through disciplines related to marketing, communication and the study of audiences; an array of works geared toward a reflection on current museum practices and how to enhance them (McManus, 1996McManus, P. (1996) “Museum and Visitor Studies Today.” Visitor Studies 8, pp. 1-12. doi: 10.1080/10645579509512659; Davidson, 2015Davidson, L. (2015) "Visitor Studies: Toward a Culture of Reflective Practice and Critical Museology for the Visitor‐Centered Museum.” In: S. Macdonald and H. Rees Leahy, eds., The International Handbooks of Museum Studies. Museum Practice. Chischester, West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons Ltd., pp. 503-527.).
These concerns gave rise to a line of research focusing on the museum visitor from a more sociological and historical perspective. Qualitative methodologies were applied, derived from studies in the sociology of art to understand the connections linking culture and society. Since the 1990s, museology has been influenced by this type of research. Proof of this is found in the publication of case studies and in specialised journals such as New Research in Museum Studies, whose first issue appeared in 1990, later transformed into Museum and Society in 2003. Issue number 14 (2016) was dedicated to “Sociology and Museums” with an introduction expressing the incorporation of sociological methods to museum studies and, in particular, to museum visitors, through the observation of three key concepts: visitors, policies and knowledge (Fyfe and Jones, 2016Fyfe, G., and Jones, P. (2016) “Introduction: Sociology and Museums: Visitors, Policy, Knowledge.” Museum & Society (Sociology and Museum) 14 (1), pp. 1-11. doi: 10.29311/mas.v14i1.622). The combination of quantitative and qualitative methods for in-depth studies on museum visitors is a topic that has been discussed in two recent issues of Cultural Trends under the heading “Looking back: understanding visits to museums in the UK since the nineteenth century.” Both of these volumes have been especially relevant to the work outlined in these pages as they focus on the analysis of visitors in the nineteenth century, an unusual trait given that visitor studies are generally more interested in examining museum visitors of the 20th and 21st centuries. Accounting and the use of a questionnaire have been key to determining the modern museum visitor profile. The studies by Bourdieu and Darbel have been essential in this line of work, although this has long been problematized and resolved (Dicks, 2016Dicks, B. (2016) “The Habitus of Heritage: a Discussion of Bourdieu's Ideas for Visitor Studies in Heritage and Museums.” Museum & Society (Sociology and Museum) 14 (1), pp. 52-64. doi: 10.29311/mas.v14i1.625; McCarthy, 2013McCarthy, C. (2013) “The rules of (Maori) art: Bourdieu’s cultural sociology and Maori visitors in New Zealand museums.” Journal of Sociology 49, pp. 173-193. doi: 10.1177/1440783313481521).
The earliest public museums were created at the time the national state was being constructed. According to Nick Prior (2002aPrior, N. (2002a) “Museums: Leisure between State and Distinction.” In: R. Koshar, ed., Histoires of Leisure. Oxford: Berg, pp. 27-44., 2002bPrior, N. (2002b) Museums and Modernity. Art Galleries and the Making of Modern Culture.Oxford: Berg.), museum institutions were scenarios endowed with new significance. On the one hand, they were constituted as socially exclusive spaces. On the other hand, they were used to disseminate a notion of national community that enabled constitutional governments to acquire legitimacy in the eyes of citizens. In this line of research, I have strived to uncover the nature of these institutions’ model visitor and how, using restrictions and regulations, they configure the behavioural patterns associated with the ideal museum visitor, while generating a political discourse in which the museum is taken to represent a national community.
The attraction exerted by museums over a wide range of visitors from different social classes has been demonstrated in several studies on the first European museums (Hill, 2005Hill, K. (2005) Culture and Class in English Public Museums, 1850–1914. Aldershot: Ashgate.; MacClellan, 1994McClellan, A. (1994) Inventing the Louvre. Art, Politics and the Origins of the Modern Museum in Eighteenth Century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.). It is of interest to observe museums as scenarios of sociability; a common space in which groups who believe they belong there (and therefore deem themselves entitled to their use) coexisted with another category of visitors experiencing their first visit to view a collection of art. The tensions and dynamics arising in this scenario have led me to reflect on museums in terms of sociability. The advent of this analytical tool to the field of history in the mid-1960s was due to the researcher Maurice Agulhon. It was incorporated into Spanish historiography a little later, no studies centred on cultural sociability appeared until the 1980s and 1990s (Canal, 1992Canal, J. (1992) “La sociabilidad en los estudios sobre la España contemporánea.” Historia contemporánea 7, pp. 183-208.). From sociocultural history, sociability has been an essential historical category in the study of the dynamics of leisure, free time and festivities. Resulting from these lines of work were the specialised case studies published in the early twenty-first century in which further lines of research have been pursued to include feminine and sports sociability, or new scenarios for analysis such as brothels (Guereña, 2003Guereña, J.-L. (2003) “Espacios y formas de la sociabilidad en la España contemporánea.” Hispania 214, pp. 409-413. doi: 10.3989/hispania.2003.v63.i214.217). However, among those scenarios in which nineteenth-century culture has been developing, Spanish museums have not been a central analysis for sociocultural historians, unlike other European museums (Whitehead, 2005Whitehead, C. (2005) The Public Art Museum in Nineteenth Century Britain: the Development of the National Gallery. Alderhot: Asghate.; Pommier, 1995Pommer, E., coord. (1995) Les musées en Europe à la veille de l'ouverture du Louvre.Paris: Louvre.). Nevertheless, museums and art exhibitions build a main space for bourgeoise sociability where it was linked leisure with culture and politics (Cruz Valenciano, 2014Cruz Valenciano, J. (2014) El surgimiento de la cultura burguesa. Personas, hogares y ciudades en la España del siglo XIX.Madrid: Siglo XXI.). The present work approaches Spanish museums as scenarios of sociability, understood as “people’s capacity to form groups that are more or less stable, more or less numerous, and the form, scope and expression of community life created for this purpose” (Guereña, 2018Guereña, J.-L., ed. (2018) Cultura, ocio, identidades: espacios y formas de la sociabilidad en la España de los siglos XIX y XX. Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva., p. 17). This line of research forced to me to establish a dialog with Eugenia Afinoguénova works, an expert in the study of the Prado Museum and its transformation in a leisure place during the nineteenth century. In her work, Prado: la cultura y el ocio (1819Afinoguénova, E. (2019) El Prado: la cultura y el ocio (1819-1939).Madrid: Cátedra.-1939Afinoguénova, E. (2019) El Prado: la cultura y el ocio (1819-1939).Madrid: Cátedra., she analysed how the Prado’s architectural complex―interior galleries and vicinity―was consolidated as an entertainment place. Following this study way, this paper deals with two complementary study subjects. In the first part, I get to the bottom of which museums and exhibition places, specialized in fine arts, were used to debate the citizen’s concept during the building of the Parliamentary regime. In the second part, I explore how the high class and the bourgeoisie created dynamics to avoid interaction with the lower classes when the museums were opened to all public. In this context, the approach to sociability concept has been very useful in this research. Specifically, the body language study has been an interesting subject to look into informal sociability forms. In the same way that to investigate this kind of sociability it has been studied public places such as squares, taverns, and cafes; museums and exhibition galleries can help us to understand more about popular sociability.
As Hannag Greig said the proliferation of commercial avenues and public gardens «have facilitated sociable mixing» for the eighteenth century. However, it has been less analysed the practical facets of this democratization of urban spaces. Studying this matter in more detail is pertinent because if we delve into some primary sources we can see how this public sociability maintained class separation biases (Greig, 2012Greig, H. (2012) “‘All Together and All Distinct’: Public Sociability and Social Exclusivity in London’s Pleasure Gardens 1740-1800.” Journal of British Studies, 51 (1), pp. 50-75. doi: 10.1086/662434, p. 51).To this end, I have followed in the footsteps of other research dedicated to the analysis of leisure spaces since, as pointed out by Jorge Uría—quoting Anthony Giddens—understanding the distribution of human actions within certain spaces contributes to gaining knowledge of social life and social meanings attributed to sociocultural experiences (Uría, 2008Uría, J. (2008) “Sociabilidad informal y semiótica de los espacios. Algunas reflexiones de método.” Studia Historica. Historia Contemporánea 26, pp. 177-212.: 209). One of the most interesting propositions that have influenced this study is the paper by Dimitra Christidou and Sophia Diamantopoulou, Seeing and Being Seen: the multimodality of Museum Spectatorship, in which, through direct observation and visual records, they have analysed the corporal methods with which visitors maintain or discontinue social interaction. In my case, the analysis of visitors’ gestures is conducted using iconographical sources, a set of documents from which to trace the social dynamics of visitors to exhibitions or fine arts museums through their body language, the way they view the art collections, their groupings within the museum space and how they interact with the rules set forth by the museum institutions regulating the visits. Incorporating a body language analysis has let me study how the middle and high classes tried to maintain their social status by means of formal and informal dynamics. From official rules—different timetables or dress codes—to authority arguments about behaviours building boundaries with other social groups; practices especially analysed by British visual studies (Rees Leahy, 2012Rees Leahy, H. (2012) Museum Bodies. The Politics and Practices of Visiting and Viewing.Farnham: Ashgate Publishing.).
In sum, this combined methodology aims to offer an outlook ranging from individual to collective viewpoints, on what constituted a visit to a public museum in Spain in the nineteenth century and, more specifically, at the time of building of the Constitutional Regime.1
VISITING THE MUSEO DEL PRADO: FROM ARTISTS TO CITIZENS
⌅On 18 November 1819, the Gaceta de Madrid announced the opening of the Real Museo del Prado for “eight consecutive days, except when raining or when the streets are muddy, and for the remainder of the year every Wednesday from nine o’clock in the morning till two o’clock in the afternoon.” In the same notice, reference was made to “the public,” “beloved vassals,” “enthusiasts and students of the arts” as the principal beneficiaries of the newly opened museum in the Palacio de Villanueva. This idea of democratising culture, associated with the origin of the earliest museums in Europe, has been elaborated upon in a succession of museological works over recent decades, as aptly shown by Astrid Swenson (2019Swenson, A. (2019) “Where are the numbers? Counting museum visitors in France.” Cultural Trends 28/1, pp. 56-71., p. 5) in her study of visitors to the Louvre. During its early years, access to public collections was restricted in two ways: one of these was time, and the other decorum.
The first restriction stemmed from the distinction between the general public and specialised visitors. Artists, fine art students and members of the sociocultural elites were free to visit the museum collection throughout the week. For all other members of the public, the museum was accessible only once a week. In the case of the Louvre, (until 1855) this was on Sundays; at the Prado, on Wednesdays. The British Museum was opened from Monday to Friday for visitors holding the appropriate entrance ticket featuring their name, condition and address (Rees Leahy, 2012Rees Leahy, H. (2012) Museum Bodies. The Politics and Practices of Visiting and Viewing.Farnham: Ashgate Publishing., p. 25). Such differentiation among visitors constructed a discourse that legitimated access to the collections for some population groups over others. The museum was identified as an educational venue, on the strength of which condition it became institutionally regulated. Nevertheless, there remained an undertone of class distinction, manifested in the freedom of access granted to the social elites independently of their relationship with the world of art. Preserved in the archives at the Museo del Prado are several petitions of this nature. Political figures, members of the diplomatic service and foreign writers requested from the managers of the Prado passes to visit the museum, despite the museum being open to the public on fixed days.2
Class distinctions were also reflected in the regulations approved by the museum. In 1828, the Duke of Híjar, director of the Prado art gallery until 1838, issued information on changes in the institution’s hours of opening. From March that year, access for the public would be on Wednesdays and Saturdays—except when raining—and admittance would be given to “all persons without distinction of class, but denied to those who are ill-dressed or barefoot.” This requirement was emphasised in the Regulation to be adhered to by the janitor and other employees of the Real Museo de Pinturas, adopted in the same year.4
Although it would seem, at first sight, that visitors to the Real Museo del Prado were homogeneous, at least as far as social class was concerned, some sources offer a more heterogeneous pattern. Since 1843, the art gallery has kept a register of all visitors during not public open days. Entries in the visitors’ book included the full name, nationality and profession of each person entering the museum, thanks to which data we know that the greater part of those accessing the exhibition halls were painters or copy artists. In addition to personages from artistic circles, however, the visitors included merchants, members of the military, diplomats, businessmen and lawyers (Pajares Duro, 2019Pajares Duro, B. (2019) “Los primeros copiantes del Prado. Hacia un museo de pintores.” Boletín de la ANABAD 69 (4), pp. 138-155, pp. 145-149). Such a diversity of social classes caused the museum to be considered as a new leisure venue, such institutions being used by the burgeoning classes to legitimise their standing. As a result, from 1830 onwards voices being raised against the closure of their exhibition halls during the only non-working day in the week—Sunday—and against privileged entry rights for the wealthy classes (Afinoguénova, 2019Afinoguénova, E. (2019) El Prado: la cultura y el ocio (1819-1939).Madrid: Cátedra., p. 138). The museum director at the time, José de Madrazo, heeded these critiques and resolved to open the museum to the public on Sundays and public holidays so that “disciples visiting as copy artists are not obliged to interrupt their work on those days and to enable employees and others unable to visit due to their occupation to do so on non-working days.6
Citizens began to view El Prado as the Museum of the Nation, the museum in which the country’s riches were displayed. This appreciation arose from the French Revolution and from considering national heritage as a collective good (Choay, 2007Choay, F. (2007) Alegoría del Patrimonio.Barcelona: Gustavo Gili.). Thus, in the pages of the press there were several debates over the role of the museum’s collection; this was viewed by some as a national asset, while by others as part of the Royal family’s wealth (Gilarranz-Ibáñez, 2021Gilarranz-Ibáñez, A. (2021). El Estado y el Arte: historia de una relación simbiótica durante la España liberal (1833-1875).Valencia: Universitat de València., pp. 37-40; Géal, 2005Géal, P. (2005) La naissance des musées d’art en Espagne (XVIIIE-XIXE siècles).Madrid: Casa de Velázquez., pp. 208-222). This affected the institution’s organisation, museum opening hours and visitors’ access regime. In 1847 the periodical El Clamor Público described an English traveller’s visit to the Real Museo del Prado. The tone of this narrative undoubtedly suggests a critique against the institution’s management, masked as an opinion given by this possible fictitious foreigner, for not opening the art galleries every day to the public but only for a few hours on Sundays.7
MODELS AND BEHAVIOURS OF VISITORS TO THE REAL MUSEO
⌅The museum was institutionally configured based on scholarly visits, with rules that a priori were intended to restrict the public that habitually frequented other spaces of leisure such as cafés, taverns and fairs. This bias toward art professionals was clearly perceived in practices such as the scarce assistance given to lay visitors. Many museums offered no information panels to identify the artistic works on display (McClellan, 1994McClellan, A. (1994) Inventing the Louvre. Art, Politics and the Origins of the Modern Museum in Eighteenth Century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.). Such museum practices, alongside other social dynamics—maintaining silence within the halls or allowing visitors to carry a cane10
In determining factors of inclusion and exclusion, and in the legitimation of appropriate practices and behaviour in the museum, a prominent role was played by the press. Articles, chronicles and announcements on the inauguration or visits to an exhibition or public museum provided clues to what should and should not be done in these spaces. These texts not only gave information, but directly and indirectly influenced the development of museums and the behaviour of museum goers (Siegel, 2008Siegel, J. ed. (2008) The Emergence of the Modern Museum: An Anthology of Nineteenth-century Sources. Oxford: Oxford University Press., p. 80). To this was added the increasing popularity of cultural products such as travel guides, both Spanish and foreign, in which a section would be devoted to cultural institutions such as fine arts academies and Museum collections. Many of these books, beyond providing the days and hours of opening, included advice to the non-initiated in the artistic world. In the Manual for the Spanish visitor from Madrid to Paris and London,12
Those lacking consummate intelligence regarding the arts, should adhere to the following method when visiting the galleries or collections: purchase the catalogue; ask an initiated person to mark the masterpieces therein, or seek their titles in a reliable guide. Upon this, go and view the works in person taking notes and endeavouring to discover their beauty and their defects; then, plan a second visit accompanied by a pundit and ask for his opinion, which you may compare with your own initial appreciation and, if possible, with that of other experts you may chance to hear (Segovia, 1851Segovia, A. M. (1851) Manual del viajero español, de Madrid a Paris y Londres: precedido de una mención histórica de los viajes más célebres de los tiempos históricos y modernos. Madrid: Imp. De Gabriel Gil, pp. 111-112).
From this quote, it is possible to infer experts visited exhibitions alone or in the company of a peer, and not as part of a group. The expert aimed to learn about the aesthetics and artistic techniques rather than experiencing the museum as entertainment. Among the opinions published in the press in the mid-nineteenth century, it was frequent to read criticism of the masses visiting museums and exhibitions with no knowledge of fine arts at all, and a growing trend was observed in the use of museum spaces for entertainment purposes (Afinoguénova, 2019Afinoguénova, E. (2019) El Prado: la cultura y el ocio (1819-1939).Madrid: Cátedra., pp. 142-145). Illustrators and caricaturists also depicted museums as a leisure venue for the middle classes, often giving satirical and burlesque examples of ignorant visitors’ bad habits. This type of illustration had already appeared in the British and French press during the early nineteenth century. In 1815, the caricaturist Thomas Rowlandson had represented the silliness of spectators viewing the collection at the Royal Academy, ridiculing their manifestly ignorant manner of approaching the works of art. In Spain, woodcuts were published representing public exhibition halls, both in the Museo del Prado and those of the Real Academia de San Fernando. These depicted the visits by the wealthy classes who maintained a code of conduct similar to that of an expert: individuals visiting alone or in the company of one other person whose gestures indicate that he is explaining an exhibit to his companion, in the proper stance to view the works, and whose dress identifies them as belonging to the distinguished social classes. This is the case of the illustration published in Siglo Pintoresco depicting the Spanish Hall at the Real Museo de Prado (Fig. 1). Nevertheless, other iconographical sources offer scenes in which the art gallery is used as leisure venue, as suggested by the attitudes of some of the visitors. Both in the work by Pedro Kuntz –Rotonda del Museo del Prado, 1833– and in that by Fernando Brambila –Vista de la Rotonda del Real Museo, 1834– the protagonists are strolling visitors, and I use the term deliberately as this is their principal activity. The Prado served as a meeting point, in the words of Carlos Reyero (2008Reyero, C. (2008) Observadores: estudiosos, aficionados y turistas dentro del cuadro. Barcelona: Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona., pp. 193-194), where most of the figures wander through the museum interior with hardly a glance at the works on display. It is not surprising the presence of this type of public even first years of the Prado Museum life. Since the eighteenth century there were different cultural spaces in reign capital where anyone interested in art and science could satisfy their curiosity. The aperture of an establishment as the Prado Museum constituted one more stage for enjoyment (Molina, 2020Molina, A. (2020) “Los públicos de las bellas artes en los orígenes del Museo del Prado.” In: J. Álvarez Barrientos and D. Crespo Delgado, coords., El Museo del Prado en 1819: opinión pública, cultura y política. Madrid: Museo del Prado, pp. 74-84., p. 75).
From the mid-nineteenth century, these depictions of manners and mores were enlarged to include humorous critiques of the inexpert public. Pedro de Madrazo, the son of José de Madrazo, published on several occasions his animosity toward all those visitors who, regardless of their social status, viewed the fine arts as a mere pastime. Amateurs were the professional artists’ natural enemies. To Pedro de Madrazo, they embodied the “woodworm of the arts, uneducated professors,”13
This description by Mesonero Romanos recurred in the visual cultural media in comic vignettes ridiculing uncultured visitors, independently of their social class, such as two illustrations in El Museo Universal and in El Mundo Cómico (Figs. 2 and 3). The former was published in 1860 and represents a scene from that year’s painting exhibition. In the composition, three gentlemen are viewing the collection, with the caption: “Shall we choose this picture?” “No, the one next to it has a better frame and will match your curtains beautifully.” The illustrator plays with the spectators in the drawing. At first sight, and judged by the dress code and body language—standing properly before the painting, adopting an appropriately thoughtful gaze and stance—they appear to belong to the expert class. However, their lack of artistic knowledge is patently evident in their conversation. A similar composition appears in the illustration published by El Mundo Cómico in 1874, only in this case the scenario is the Permanent Exhibition. Again, two men approach a painting next to which stands the author, who claims: “This is my painting, gentlemen,” to which one of the gentlemen replies, “What a fine frame!” Both of these illustrations highlight one of the key aspects of the cultural activity of visiting museums or art galleries: the emulation learned through what Marcel Mauss (1973Mauss, M. (1973) “Techniques of the Body.” Economy and Society, 2, pp. 70-88.) called prestigious imitation, or in other words, the acquisition of normative corporal techniques that give the inexpert visitor the necessary confidence and competence to give a convincing performance in this unfamiliar space. We should not overlook that museums and public fine arts exhibitions alike, as well as other scenarios for upper middle-class leisure pursuits, served equally as vantage points from which to observe and be observed (Reyero, 2008Reyero, C. (2008) Observadores: estudiosos, aficionados y turistas dentro del cuadro. Barcelona: Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona., pp. 229-232). Attempts to incorporate the actions and gestures of those held to be experts was a way of communicating within such public scenarios, expressing the desire to be identified as part of a select group; these means of non-verbal communication were developed to transmit the will to be accepted or excluded from certain social groups or interactions (Christidou & Diamantopoulou, 2016Christidou, D. and Diamantopoulou, S. (2016) “Seeing and being Seen: The Multimodality of Museum Spectatorship.” Museum & Society 14 (1), pp. 12-32. doi: 10.29311/mas.v14i1.623).
IDENTIFY THE LAYMAN WITH THE POPULAR
⌅The inexpert visitors were equated with the commoners using satirical cartoons and press chronicles. Especially, the middle class consolidated and disseminated an imaginary about a lower class that was used to maintain the distance with the working classes in public places such as museums or art galleries. They developed a social profile where the behaviours of lower classes were associated with the idea of “bad visitor” being a comical subject in many satirical illustrations.
On the one hand, among people in fine art field there was a bad opinion about the proximity between popular urban areas—such as fairs—to museums and expositions galleries. An example of these arguments was published by Pedro de Madrazo, the son of José de Madrazo, director of. He, among other artists, strongly opposed the proximity, both spatial and temporal, of the fair to the Academy of San Fernando premises, given that the fairs were generally held in September the Prado Museum, coinciding with the season for annual exhibitions of fine arts. Madrazo demanded “to the painting exhibition its secluded venue, separate from the uninitiated crowds seeking blankets from Palencia” and criticized this “the Madrid public was so inclined to view the halls at the Real Academia de San Fernando as a kind of extension of the stalls selling peaches and old iron …15
The cartoon by Goya titled La Feria, dated in 1779, features a street vendor offering several paintings at his stall to a nobleman. Passers-by could view all sorts of gadgets, garments, food and even works of art at these markets. Those dedicated to selling books, prints and other cultural goods were usually held in the vicinity of artistic institutions (Lorente Lorente, 2014Lorente Lorente, J. P. (2014) “Espacios artísticos en paisajes urbanos comerciales de tránsito y encuentro, durante la Ilustración y el Romanticismo.” In: D. Barrado, Lourdes and J. P. Lorente Lorente, coords., Arte en las ciudades, las ciudades en el arte. Zaragoza: Universidad San Jorge, pp. 181-198., pp. 183-185). Social diversity and crowds of shoppers were a feature of these public scenarios, which gradually shifted to the interior of academic institutions, as described by Thomas Crow (1985Crow, T. (1985) Painters and public life in eighteenth-century Paris. New Haven: Yale University Press.) and Eva Boutillo (2010Boutillo, E. (2010) “Le fréquentation du Salon de 1817 à 1827.” In: J. Kearns and P. Vaisse, eds., Ce Salón à quoi tout se ramène. Le Salón de peinture et de sculpture, 1791-1890. Bern: Peter Lang, pp. 23-43.) about the Paris salons. The Madrid fairs were similar to those established in other major European cities. In the Spanish capital, they attracted both native and foreign travellers and became a prominent feature in the Early Modern Age literature of manners and mores (Simón Díaz, 1967Simón Díaz, J. (1967) “Las ferias de Madrid en la literatura.” Anales del Instituto de Estudios Madrileños 2, pp. 249-274.). In these narratives, the critique of buyers and onlookers was a common feature, and this social satire was likewise featured in iconographical media (Fig. 4).
This proximity between the two spaces produced the incorporation of the popular classes as part of the visitors to the art exhibitions, mobilizing an imaginary in which the commoners were a nuisance to the rest of the visitors. The writer Mesonero Romanos described these sensations in a satirical way in Madrid Cómico journal in 1838. He related the experiences of a women’s group visiting the exhibition of Madrid’s Art Academy. The older of them complained about some men’s group comments in front of a woman’s portrait; before the elderly woman cried out: “Come, child, come away (cries the old lady), dear Jesus! Such pushing and shoving… and the smell! Why ever would they allow these people into the Academy.” The lady referred to a group of ‘Alcorconeros’, that is, from the town of Alcorcón. This township to the south-west of Madrid was well known for its pottery,18
A visit to the fine arts exhibition was considered an extension of Madrid’s leisure opportunities.19
Despite of gradual aperture of museums and galleries to the wide public, these artistical places didn’t constitute a full public establishment in the nineteenth century. Class segregation was normal among different social groups. The dominant classes decided what behaviours were valid and which not preventing social interaction. Despite an “opening reputation,” the middle class promoted and maintained carefully a social hierarchy (Greig, 2012Greig, H. (2012) “‘All Together and All Distinct’: Public Sociability and Social Exclusivity in London’s Pleasure Gardens 1740-1800.” Journal of British Studies, 51 (1), pp. 50-75. doi: 10.1086/662434, p. 53). To achieve this aim, they cultivated a social imaginary about popular visitors spreading using press chronicle and cartoons. As Eugenia Afinoguénova (2011Afinoguénova, E. (2011) “The nation disrobed: Nudity, leisure and class at the Prado.” In: S. J. Knell et al, ed., National Museums. New Studies from around the World. London and New York: Routledge, pp. 207-224., p. 215) said the museum was an ideal place where the bourgeoisie laughed at class adversaries. Especially, the cartoonists represented the lower classes’ experience in museums linked with ignorance and religious exaltation. Most of the satirical illustrations reflected the reactions of these groups in front of a nude—oil painting and sculptures—or in ridiculous behaviours such as knelt before a religious image exhibited at museum as El entierro de Cristo. These arguments were used by the middle and high classes to avoid interaction with the commoners (Fig. 5).
The satirical press spread these efforts to maintain the social distance as illustrated Francisco Ortego, the popular Spanish cartoonist. His illustration—titled “In the Exposition inauguration”—represented women, men and children group waiting anxiously behind line dividers looking at the arrival of “the guest with ticket that come in the Exhibition” as described in the cartoon’s subtitle. Textual and visual sources identify as "bad behaviour" which is linked with popular classes. Nevertheless, the sources produced by professional figures of the artistical field demonstrated that their contempt of laymen was not merely based on social class, since as pointed out by Pedro de Madrazo himself, the uneducated masses comprised “commoners or plebeians” as well as “a large part of those ranking in the higher echelons of social hierarchy.”22
From the wording of this regulation, we may infer that the behaviour deemed proper at the museum was undergoing a negotiation process. Even “experts” like students and copy artists were sometimes admonished for inappropriate behaviour according to the institutional directive. Indirectly, elements were introduced to the exhibition halls to redirect visitors’ movements. An analysis of the iconographical sources allows us to visualise the placement of barriers to prevent people from getting too close to exhibits, and the fitting of racks near the entrance for walking sticks and sunshades.24
CONCLUSIONS
⌅Having completed the above analysis, my view is that underlying the origins of public museums in Spain, and particularly the fine arts museum, there was no intention of democratising culture, and the same holds for other European museum projects. Nevertheless, their inauguration was instrumental to nineteenth-century society’s approach to art. The opportunity to share a space with pundits and the regulation of visits through direct and indirect practices enabled “uneducated” visitors to learn the proper way to approach works of art. In the written and iconographical sources alike, it has been remarked that, very often, the modes of inclusion and exclusion were based on non-verbal codes of communication. For these reasons I consider that further research into the gestures and body language of nineteenth-century museum-goers, thus examining in greater depth their behavioural modes and models, may uncover new and interesting data in the future.
Public museums in the mid-nineteenth century in Spain became, as did other European museums, the theatre of a symbolic battle. Several groups within the elites struggled, by different means, to claim these spaces as their own. The political dynamics and the process of building a national state rendered public museums a scenario from which to claim citizens’ rights. The elites’ discourse, aiming to gain a position as legitimate public museum patrons, was contradictory. On the one hand, these groups denounced the former regime’s malpractice in granting privileged access to these institutions to the aristocracy. They appealed to national identity and their right to enjoy the country’s riches on the same footing as any other citizen. At the same time, however, they set up measures of exclusion, both against the lower classes qualified as the lay public, limiting the enjoyment of art collections and museums through different means. The reliable representation of body language in visual resources can be questionable. However, their analysis, accompanied by the study of other documents such as museum rules or press articles, helps us to know more about ways to mould and make uniform behaviours in public places. Furthermore, thanks to these sources it is possible to go deeper into the boundaries created by social elites restricting their interaction with other social classes. For these reasons, I consider that depth research on body language allows us to learn more about informal sociability. This paper opens a work line that will be continued in future analyses.
The study of all these sources invites us to think about the social use of museums and artistic exhibitions in two senses. First, their homogenization as a leisure place. A practice stablished in the first half of the nineteenth century by a part of the privilege classes and it was acquired by the rest of society when access to these kinds of places was opened. Second, the analysis lets us observe the growing interest of emergent urban classes in the acquisition of distinction and cultural capital. The incorporation of cultural capital was made by means of imitation practices of figures categorized as experts. This profile usually was identified as high classes. Why? In contrast with the social imaginary which it was associated the layman visitor with the commoners and lower classes. Recognizing the “bad visitor” among the lower and working-class persons was useful for high classes. Despite museums and artistic galleries were opened their doors to all kinds of social groups, the fact is that it is possible to perceive how the middle and high classes tried to maintain a certain degree of exclusivity in these social plural spaces.
Professional artists played a key role in limiting access and in the constitution of codes of conduct within these institutions. Among the attitudes of respectability and appropriateness required of museum visitors, I have observed that artists deployed a strategy to sacralise these spaces to aggrandise their profession. This is a line of research that merits more in-depth study.