Impressionism Read online

  Author: Nathalia Brodskaïa

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  ISBN: 978-1-78310-388-1

  Nathalia Brodskaïa

  IMPRESSIONISM

  Contents

  PREFACE

  THE IMPRESSIONISTS AND ACADEMIC PAINTING

  THE FIRST IMPRESSIONIST EXHIBITION

  ÉDOUARD MANET

  CLAUDE MONET

  PIERRE AUGUSTE RENOIR

  ALFRED SISLEY

  CAMILLE PISSARRO

  EDGAR DEGAS

  BERTHE MORISOT

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  INDEX

  1. Claude Monet, Impression, Sunrise, 1873.

  Oil on canvas, 48 x 63 cm.

  Musée Marmottan, Paris.

  PREFACE

  Impression: Sunrise was the prescient title of one of Claude Monet’s paintings shown in 1874 in the first exhibition of the Impressionists, or as they called themselves then, the Société anonyme des artistes, peintres, sculpteurs, graveurs (the Anonymous Society of Artist, Painters, Sculptors, and Engravers). Monet painted scenes of his childhood hometown of Le Havre to prepare for the event, eventually selecting his best Havre landscapes for display. Edmond Renoir, journalist brother of Renoir the painter, compiled the catalogue. He criticised Monet for the uniform titles of his works, for the painter had not come up with anything more interesting than View of Le Havre. Among these Havre landscapes was a canvas painted in the early morning depicting a blue fog that seemed to transform the shapes of yachts into ghostly apparitions. The painting also depicted smaller boats gliding over the water in black silhouette, and above the horizon the flat, orange disk of the sun, its first rays casting an orange path across the sea. It was more like a rapid study than a painting, a spontaneous sketch done in oils – what better way to seize the fleeting moment when sea and sky coalesce before the blinding light of day? View of Le Havre was obviously an inappropriate title for this particular painting, as Le Havre was nowhere to be seen. “Write Impression,” Monet told Edmond Renoir, and in that moment began the story of Impressionism.

  On 25 April 1874, the art critic Louis Leroy published a satirical piece in the journal Charivari that described a visit to the exhibition by an official artist. As he moves from one painting to the next, the artist slowly goes insane. He criticises the surface of a painting by Camille Pissarro, describing the ploughed field as shavings from an artist’s palette carelessly deposited onto a soiled canvas. When looking at the painting he is unable to tell top from bottom, or one side from the other. He is horrified by Monet’s landscape entitled Boulevard des Capucines. Indeed, in Leroy’s satire, it is Monet’s work that pushes the academician over the edge. Stopping in front of one of the Havre landscapes, he asks what Impression, Sunrise depicts. “Impression, of course,” mutters the academician. “I said so myself, too, because I am so impressed, there must be some impression in here… and what freedom, what technical ease!” At which point he begins to dance a jig in front of the paintings, exclaiming: “Hey! Ho! I’m a walking impression, I’m an avenging palette knife” (Charivari, 25 April 1874). Leroy called his article, “The Exhibition of the Impressionists.” With typical French finesse, he had adroitly coined a new word from the painting’s title, a word so fitting that it was destined to remain forever in the vocabulary of the history of art.

  Responding to questions from a journalist in 1880, Monet said: “I’m the one who came up with the word, or who at least, through a painting that I had exhibited, provided some reporter from Le Figaro the opportunity to write that scathing article. It was a big hit, as you know.” (Lionello Venturi, Les Archives de l’impressionnisme, Paris, Durand-Ruel, 1939, vol. 2, p. 340).

  2. Pierre Auguste Renoir, Nude, 1876.

  Oil on canvas, 92 x 73 cm.

  The Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, Moscow.

  3. Edgar Degas, Woman Combing her Hair, c.1888-1890.

  Pastel on paper, 78.7 x 66 cm.

  Mr. and Mrs. A. Alfred Taubman Collection.

  THE IMPRESSIONISTS AND ACADEMIC PAINTING

  The young men who would become the Impressionists formed a group in the early 1860s. Claude Monet, son of a Le Havre shopkeeper, Frédéric Bazille, son of a wealthy Montpellier family, Alfred Sisley, son of an English family living in France, and Pierre Auguste Renoir, son of a Parisian tailor had all come to study painting in the independent studio of Charles Gleyre, whom in their view was the only teacher who truly personified neo-classical painting.

  The formal qualities of his female nudes can only be compared to the work of the great Dominique Ingres. In Gleyre’s independent studio, pupils received traditional training in neo-classical painting, but were free from the official requirements of the École des beaux-arts.

  All four artists burned with desire to grasp the principles of painting and neo-classical technique: after all, this was the reason that they had come to Gleyre’s studio. They applied themselves to the study of the nude figure and successfully passed all their required exam competitions, receiving prizes for drawing, perspective, anatomy, and likeness. Each of the future Impressionists received Gleyre’s praise on some occasion.

  One day Renoir decided to impress his teacher by painting a nude according to all the rules, as he put it: “tan flesh emerging from bitumen black as night, backlighting caressing the shoulder, and the tortured look that accompanies stomach cramps.” (Jean Renoir, Pierre Auguste Renoir, mon père, Paris, Gallimard, 1981, p. 119). Gleyre was struck by Renoir’s impertinence and his shock and indignation were not unwarranted: his student had proved that he was perfectly capable of painting as the teacher required, whereas all the other youths were bent on depicting their models “as they are in everyday life” (J. Renoir, op. cit., p. 120). Monet remembers the way Gleyre reacted to one of his own nudes: “Not bad,” he exclaimed, “not bad at all, this business here. But it is too much about this particular model. You have a heavyset man. He has huge feet, which you depict as such. It’s all very ugly. So remember young man, when we draw a figure, we must always keep in mind the antique. Nature, my friend, is a very admirable aspect of research, but it provides no interest.” (François Daulte, Frédéric Bazille et son temps, Geneva, Pierre Cailler, 1952, p. 30).

  To the future Impressionists, nature was exactly what interested them most. Renoir remembered what Frédéric Bazille had told him when they first met: “Large-scale classical compositions are over. The spectacle of everyday life is more fascinating.” (J. Renoir, op. cit., p. 115). All of them preferred living nature and bristled at Gleyre’s disdain for landscape. But in reality the students enjoyed complete freedom. They were acquiring indispensable knowledge of the technique and craft of painting, mastery of classical composition, precision in drawing, and beautiful paint handling, although later critics often rightly noted their lack of such achievements.

  4. Alfred Sisley, Avenue of Chestnut Trees at

  La Celle-Saint-Cloud, 1867.

  Oil on canvas, 95.5 x 122.2 cm.

  Southampton City Art Gallery, Southampton.

  On their way home from Gleyre’s studio, Bazille, Monet, Sisley a
nd Renoir stopped at the Closerie des Lilas, a café on the corner of boulevard Montparnasse and avenue de l’Observatoire, where they had long discussions about the future direction of painting. Bazille brought along his new friend, Camille Pissarro, who was a few years older than the others. The members of this small group called themselves the “intransigents” and together they dreamt of a new Renaissance.

  Many years later, the elder Renoir spoke enthusiastically about this period to his son. “The intransigents wanted to put their immediate impressions on canvas, without any translation,” writes Jean Renoir. “Official painting, imitating imitations of the masters, was dead. Renoir and his companions were bon vivants… Meetings of the intransigents were impassioned. They longed to share their discovery of the truth with the public. Ideas came from all sides and intermingled; opinions came thick and fast. One of them seriously suggested burning down the Louvre.” (J. Renoir, op. cit., p. 120-121). Sisley apparently was the first to take his friends landscape painting in Fontainebleau forest.

  5. Camille Pissarro,

  Edge of the Woods near L’Hermitage, 1879.

  Oil on canvas, 125 x 163 cm.

  Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland.

  Now, instead of a model skilfully placed upon a pedestal, they had nature before them and the infinite variations of the shimmering foliage of trees constantly changing colour in the sunlight. “Our discovery of nature opened our eyes,” said Renoir. (J. Renoir, op. cit., p. 118). No doubt an equally important influence on their passion for nature was the public exhibition that same year (1863) of Édouard Manet’s painting Luncheon on the Grass. The painting astonished the future Impressionists, as well as critics and observers. Manet had begun to accomplish what they dreamt of: he had taken the first steps away from neo-classical painting and moved closer to modern life. Truth be told, “burning down the Louvre” was little more than a spontaneous expression bandied about in the heat of discussion, not a conviction. When asked if he had got anything out of Gleyre’s neo-classical studio, the elder Renoir replied to his son: “A lot, in spite of the teachers. Having to copy the same écorché (anatomical study) ten times is excellent. It’s boring, and if you weren’t paying for it, you wouldn’t be doing it. But to really learn, nothing beats the Louvre.” (J. Renoir, op. cit., p. 112-113).

  6. Édouard Manet, Self-Portrait with Palette, 1879.

  Oil on canvas, 83 x 67 cm. Private Collection.

  7. Pierre Auguste Renoir,

  Portrait of Claude Monet, 1875.

  Oil on canvas, 85 x 60.5 cm.

  Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

  THE FIRST IMPRESSIONIST EXHIBITION

  The future Impressionists believed they were making a clean break with academic painting when they left Gleyre’s studio. Eleven years later, they were developing a new concept of painting as they worked en plein-air (out-of-doors). The time had come to announce this concept, as well as their independence from official art, and to show their canvases in the context of their own exhibition. But organising such an event was not as easy as one might think.

  Up until then, there was only one venue for exhibiting contemporary art in France: the Salon. Founded in the seventeenth century during the reign of Louis XIV by his prime minister Colbert, the exhibition was inaugurated in the Louvre’s Salon carré, whence its name. Beginning in 1747, the Salon was held biennially in different locations. By the time the future Impressionists appeared on the stage of art, the Salon boasted a two hundred year history. Obviously every painter wanted to exhibit in the Salon, because it was the only way to become known and consequently, to be able to sell paintings. But it was hard to get admitted. A critical jury made up of teachers from the École des beaux-arts selected the works for the exhibition. The Académie des Beaux-Arts (one of the five Academies of the Institut de France) picked the teachers for the jury from among its own members. Furthermore, the teachers in charge of selecting the Salon’s paintings and sculptures often chose work made by the same artists they had as students. It was not unusual to see jury members haggling amongst themselves for the right to have the work of their own students admitted.

  The Salon’s precepts were extremely rigid and remained essentially unchanged throughout its entire existence. Traditional genres reigned and scenes taken from Greek mythology or the Bible were in accordance with the themes imposed on the Salon at its inception, only the individual scenes changed according to fashion. Portraiture retained its customary affected look and landscapes had to be “composed,” in other words, conceived from the artist’s imagination. Idealised nature, whether it concerned the female nude, portraiture, or landscape painting, was still a permanent condition of acceptance. The jury sought a high degree of professionalism in composition, drawing, anatomy, linear perspective, and pictorial technique. An irreproachably smooth surface, created with miniscule brushwork almost indiscernible to the eye, was the standard finish required for admission to the competition. There was no place in the Salon for the everyday reality young painters were anxious to explore. Finally, there was another, unformulated requirement: the paintings had to appeal to the potential buyers for whom they were made.

  8. Pierre Auguste Renoir, Self-Portrait, c.1875.

  Oil on canvas, 36.1 x 31.7 cm.

  Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown.

  The victorious revolution at the end of the eighteenth century had given rise to a nouveaux riches class. Former boutique owners who had profited from the revolution built luxurious townhouses in Paris, bought jewels from the most expensive stores on the rue de la Paix, and bought no less expensive paintings from celebrated Salon painters. The newly rich had questionable tastes that required some getting used to. It was precisely in the second half of the nineteenth century that the term “salon painter” became pejorative, implying a lack of principles and venality, the sort of eagerness toplease that was indispensable for commercial success. The very fact of admission to the Salon demonstrated extreme professionalism on the part of the painter and under these circumstances changing his manner of painting and his style was no great feat. It was not unusual to find a neo-classical composition next to a canvas painted in the spirit of romanticism by the same artist. It was nevertheless a matter of honour for the Salon to retain its prestige and consequently, to maintain the spirit of classicism upon which it had been based up until then.

  Salon favourites were derisively called pompiers (firemen). The original meaning of this word has been lost over time. It may have stemmed from the constant presence of real firemen in the rooms of the Salon, or it may have been that the shiny headgear of the antique warriors in Salon paintings made one think of firemen. Or perhaps pompier was an echo of the French word for Pompei (Pompéi), as the Pompeian lifestyle was frequently depicted in the Salon’s antique compositions. One story attributes the origin of the term to the famous phrase by the academician Gérôme, who said that it was easier to be an arsonist than a fireman. By that the honourable professor meant artists like himself fulfilled the difficult and noble duty of firemen, whereas those who one way or another attacked the foundations of the Salon and the classical ideal of art, naturally seemed like arsonists. The four former pupils of Gleyre, along with Pissarro who had joined them, consciously took the side of the arsonists.

  9. Camille Pissarro, Self-Portrait, 1903.

  Oil on canvas, 41 x 33.3 cm. Tate Gallery, London.

  10. Édouard Manet,

  Portrait of Berthe Morisot with a Fan, 1874.

  Oil on canvas, 61 x 50 cm.

  Palais des Beaux-Arts, Lille.

  Academic stagnation was already inspiring protest among artists. Even the great Ingres, an Academy member and professor of painting for whom the defence of classicism was a matter of honour, was saying that the Salon was perverting and suffocating the artist’s sense of grandeur and beauty. Ingres saw that exhibiting in the Salon awakened an interest in financial gain, the desire to achieve recognition at any cost, and that the Salon itself was changing into a
sales room by selling paintings in a market inundated with items for sale, instead of a place where art dominated commerce. Moreover, too many artists remained outside of the exhibit, either because of professional mediocrity or because they failed to meet the criteria of neo-classical painting. In 1855, only 2,000 out of 8,000 submissions were accepted for the Salon that coincided with the Universal Exposition. Gustave Courbet’s best work was rejected, including his famous Burial at Ornans. Jury members felt that his artistic leanings would have a fatal effect on French art. Indeed, Courbet was the first serious arsonist: “I have studied the art of the ancients and moderns outside of the system and without taking part in it,” he wrote in the catalogue to his individual exhibition. “I no more wanted to imitate the one than I wanted to copy the other…No! From a full awareness of tradition I simply wanted to draw the intelligent and independent feeling of my own individuality. To know how to, in order to be able to: such was my thinking. To be able to translate the values, ideas, and reality of my time, according to my own understanding; in short, to make a living art, that is my goal.” (Charles Léger, Courbet, Paris, 1925, p. 62). This statement by Courbet could have just as easily been made by the Impressionists, because, although using somewhat different means, all these artists aspired to the same goal.

  Each of the future Impressionists tried, with mixed results, to get into the Salon. In 1864, Pissarro and Renoir were lucky enough to be admitted, although Renoir’s accepted painting, Esmeralda, was considered a critical failure for the artist, who destroyed it as soon as the Salon closed. In 1865, paintings by Pissarro, Renoir, and Monet were accepted.