Bronze & Iron 8-Light Gothic Chandelier With Figural Harlequin Sculpted on Plinth

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Gothic forged iron and bronze Tudor style 8-light chandelier with hand painted carved wood figural Harlequin at center plinth, sculpted … Read more Gothic forged iron and bronze Tudor style 8-light chandelier with hand painted carved wood figural Harlequin at center plinth, sculpted floral leaf crown, gilt bronze acorn finials, and bronze candle covers. Acquired March 2023 near “Castle Country” on Colorado’s western slope in historic downtown Montrose. This relic is quite the rare and majestic treasure indeed, heavy and magnificent nearly every part and piece handmade, the work of a true master undoubtedly from the old world, where everything seems to have been crafted by a different hand. Possible origins include France, Italy, USA (E.F. Caldwell), but likely made in Spain. Although the true origin remains a mystery from what we have gathered, there isn't another like it on earth. Circa late 1800s.

Piece Dimensions:
51” top of chain to bottom of final.
38” top of finial to bottom of bridle.
21” circumference at widest point.

Lost History of The Character Harlequin

The History of the Harlequinade is a collection of notes and illustrations compiled by Robert Lenkiewicz c.1970 in relation to the theme of Commedia dell'Arte.

The notes discuss the principal characters of the masked-theatre Harlequinade tradition: Columbine, Harlequin, Pierrot, Polichinelle and so on. The images are not original to Lenkiewicz but are hand-drawn versions from the texts cited in the footnotes. Lenkiewicz has also added his own creation, Pnoob, the innocent romantic fool who features as the artist's alter ego in many illustrations dating from the 60s and 70s. The hand-made 18-page booklet is approximately A3 in size (see below for illustration sizes).

A number of works from this period, especially those related to the Vagrancy Project, show sitters in Pierrot costume, or other garb from the Commedia -- ironic commentary on the nature of relationships. But the most extensive use of this imagery appeared in a large mural situated in the New Hoe Summer Theatre, which was demolished in 1982. Parts of the mural, which had been papered over in the mid-70s, were saved, including a self-portrait. A portion of the image which quotes a still from Marcel Carné’s 1945 film Les Enfants du Paradis (seen to the right in contemporary newspaper photograph) was also rescued.

HARLEQUIN

‘Harlequin pretends to be a poor soldier and begs for alms. Cinthio approaches; Harlequin raises his cap: 'Sir', he says, 'Please help a poor dumb man.' Cinthio smiles: 'You are dumb then, my friend?' 'Oh yes, sir', replies Harlequin innocently, and on Cinthio's asking him how he can be dumb when he is able to talk, he eagerly gives his explanation: 'But sir, if I were not to reply to you that would be rude; I am well brought up, I know how one should act.' In the very moment of saying this, however, he suddenly appreciates his error and quickly adds 'But you are right, sir; I made a mistake - I meant to say I am deaf.' 'Deaf!' cries Cinthio, 'That can't be,' 'Oh yes, I assure you, sir,' Harlequin answers, 'I cannot hear even a cannon going off.' 'But at any rate,' says Cinthio, 'you understand what is being said to you, especially if somebody calls you to give you some money.' 'Most certainly, sir', is Harlequin's quick reply, and he goes on to claim that once more he had made a slight mistake; he really should have said he was blind.' 1

A cry and a sudden leap, a flash of variegated colour- yellow, red, blue -triangles contorting in rich lamp-light; disorganised patchwork catching light from torches, camp-fires and the moon.

Witty, but servile, paradoxically clever but foolish and vulnerable; and always the mask of a negro.

The significance of this mask will be returned to later, and it is one that reflects an aspect of Harlequin that makes him perhaps the strangest and most intriguing of the group.

Harlequin is a cheat, a liar, he procures for others, and tries to reap the benefits himself. He is athletic and agile, but frightened of violence. The man who does not really wish to hurt anyone, but who would not really care if he does. He attracts situations by deceiving himself and others; amusing colourful and at times clever, he is able to adapt himself to the moments opportunity when exploitation is at hand.

From the 18th century onwards he becomes known in one context alone. He is the romantic lover par excellence, a dancer, insolent, and gay, a passionate gallant able to play all the fashionable games, and to create a sense of intensity and import in all and every trivial escapade.

It has been observed however, that his response to woman may not have been quite as virile and positive as popularly imagined.

Instinctively, he felt that all woman were whores, if not now, then later. If not with him, then with someone else; what after all, was the difference. Their availability was in no way connected with him, but rather, with their own inherent weakness and willingness to hand themselves to almost anyone.

If he refused, well, what of it? he had only to look a little taller, a little darker, change his stance, quote a certain poem, and everything would go well. He knew this to be true, so it was unnecessary to take the trouble. No wife was faithful, it all depended on the circumstances. Fidelity was absurd, all women were alone,; it was just a matter of timing. They need not frighten him, because he knew that it was they who were afraid, not of him, but of life, of change. And that was all that Harlequin needed, that knowledge made it all so easy.

He was, in short, fundamentally contemptuous of women, in much the same way as he probably was of men.

His 'innocence' for that is what he in part believed, relinquished him of all responsibility. His 'love' for them was unreal, a tricky thing, so likewise their affections for him were of the same stuff. They seemed unhappy? Even miserable? So, what matter? He didn't believe it, and if they wished to be unhappy for months even years, well let them; it helps them to pass the time. 'You should not tempt a simple lad whose standard of honour is that of a child's' he would say; and the woman that pined for him would soon be pining for someone else. It was human after all, quite a normal thing, hardly a serious matter.

Traditionally Harlequin's role was to court and marry Columbine, and their history of mutual affection, with the silent Pierrot in the background is well known to many. But so many times they are faithless to each other, so many times they become quite independent. He and she, the archetypal flirts, who are drawn together, because they are reflecting the same truth; their vulnerability to events, to whims and fancies, they console each other with the recurring knowledge of all things fading away.

A further suggestion, and one with fascinating possibilities, is that his basic contempt for women, was that he deceived himself about his own nature. Time and again the scenarios display his interest in women's clothes, in fashion, and feminine things,. Life and his profession forced him to womanize, it was expected, but really he was only 'interested' in them. His ease and affinity with women, was due more to their similarities than their differences. They were able to confide in him, they loved to listen to his advice on matters of love, and he was able to provide solace and opinions indefinitely, because, somehow there was nothing to lose. He dresses in women’s clothes, advises Columbine on every detail of make-up and fashion, and in a Dutch scenario of the I8th century is even depicted as being the 'mother' of a child.

The popular conception of a Prince Charming Harlequin is uncertain, because harlequin is the result of his own 'publicity campaign'.

"Yet this ambiguity is the key to Harlequin's character. He could never really be himself because he was never quite certain what that self was. He was able to be emphatic about the variety of the selves he played, that is in the conventional sense, because he was real in his unreality: indeed he exaggerated each self because there was no 'real self' in Harlequin". 2

The undertone of homosexuality in Harlequin's character may be seen as symbolic of his being 'neither this-nor that'. He has spent centuries behaving superficially, avoiding all personal assessment. At every turn he backs away from what the world calls reality, until his own identity became so fluid that it adapted itself to every whim and fancy.

In a sense, we are all harlequins. In deceiving ourselves we deceive others, and it is this pattern that gave Harlequin an unreal quality.

This quality may be likened to what we all feel at times, that we do not really exist at all, except as whimsical paper-tigers in 'other people's' fantasies.

Apart from Harlequin's servility already alluded to, the slaves or negro's mask that he wears helps also to indicate the darker or sinister side of his nature, that side that cannot be relied upon, that may go willy-nilly according to unknown dictates. One very interesting observation about harlequin which may be entered here is the amazing contrast between his image as we now respond to it, and that image from which he was born in antiquity. Today he flits about a stage in Peter Pan fashion, a century or two ago, he had more panache, more daring, though he was still weak and vulnerable to every incident. But earlier still, in the middle ages a number of individuals wearing patchwork garments appear to have wandered about communicating by signs and cryptic words.

"This strange figure is known to have operated in Spain and elsewhere in Europe. The name given the silent teacher who performed strange movements, incidentally, was 'aghlaq' (plural 'aghlaqin', pronounced with guttural "r" and European "q" as 'arlakeen','arlequin'). This is an Arabic play upon the words for "great door" and "confused speech." There can be little doubt that his appearance to the uninitiated is perpetuated in the Harlequin." 3

Harlequin's earlier ancestors may have come from a company of Greek comedians, he may indeed be of African extraction, he may be an isolated European invention, but always he danced, jumped around, became talked of as that fellow who was 'always in the air'. We may leave Harlequin with the last word:

"I was very naive, not to say stupid, my masters; but with age, experience and wit came to my assistance, and today I have all that I need and some to spare." 4 See less