Off-Center Views: Sense of Humor at the National Gallery of Art

Sense of Humor

National Gallery of Art

Washington, D.C.

Through January 6, 2019

Clicking on any image will open a larger picture.

In my youth, I spent a lot of time at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC. On the rare occasions when I hit the National Mall these days, I tend to take in smaller exhibits, either because the blockbusters find their way to me somewhere closer, or because I thirst to see something more offbeat. The latter prompted my decision to view a collection of prints, graphics, and drawings devoted to the not-so-gracious art of lampoon. Sense of Humor is well worth a look. It’s one of those exhibits that lend themselves to however much time you can allot; for me, that was about 45 minutes.

It bears noting that humor is transgressive. At its core, there is no such thing as a “kind” joke. All caricature, satire, ridicule, foibles, burlesque, slapstick, farce, and parody occur in opposition to some supposed norm. That’s a fancy way of saying that jokes require a butt, even if it's a self-deprecating target. The problem for our time is that we are no longer trusting enough to discern when a joke is good-natured or malicious, and we tend to align the second type with political beliefs with which we either agree or disagree. Or maybe, we’re just too touchy for our own good.

In the past, humorists knew their job was to bust the chops of their targets and they didn’t worry as much about bruised feelings as they did avoiding libel laws. The National Gallery collection unwittingly (or not?) skews its humor depictions toward the past—as if it's safer to avoid putting contemporary noses out of joint. The works on paper cover lampoons from the 15^th century through the late 20^th, but is heaviest on works from the Renaissance through the golden age of satire of the 18^th and 19^th centuries. You can take in work from masters such as Bruegel, Goya, and Hogarth, as well as Honoré Daumier (1808–79), perhaps Europe’s finest and cleverest satirist. After that, pickings get slimmer, though you also see works from Calder, Grooms, Spiegelman, and Steinberg. A glaring omission is that there is almost nothing from women beyond a 1985 Guerilla Girls poster that’s actually more poignant than funny.

Below are some of my favorite images.