Si l’Impressionnisme marqua les premiers pas vers la peinture moderne en révolutionnant un milieu artistique étouffé par les conventions académiques, le Post-Impressionnisme, plus révolutionnaire encore, libéra totalement la couleur et lui ouvrit des horizons alors inconnus. Ancré dans son époque, s’appuyant sur les nouvelles études chromatiques de Chevreul, Georges Seurat transcrivit en pointillés la théorie des couleurs du chimiste. Dans sa touche épaisse, Van Gogh illustra le soleil du midi, tandis que Cézanne renonçait à la perspective. Riche de sa variété et de la singularité de ses artistes, le Post-Impressionnisme fut un passage obligé pour tous les grands noms de la peinture du XXe siècle, passage qu’emprunte ici, pour le plus grand plaisir du lecteur, Nathalia Brodskaïa.
L’art naïf connaît ses premiers succès à la fin du XIXe siècle. Des « peintres du dimanche » développent avec spontanéité et simplicité une forme d’expression qui, jusqu’alors, avait peu intéressé les artistes et les critiques d’art. Influencée par les arts primitifs, la peinture naïve se distingue par la précision de ses traits, la vivacité et la gaieté de ses couleurs, ainsi que ses formes brutes, souvent élémentaires. L’art naïf est représenté par des artistes tels qu’Henri Rousseau, Séraphine de Senlis, André Bauchant et Camille Bombois. Ce mouvement s’est également développé à l’étranger, où se sont démarqués des artistes aussi importants que Joan Miró, Guido Vedovato, Niko Pirosmani, et Ivan Generalic.
« Je peins ce que je vois et non ce qu’il plaît aux autres de voir. » D’autres mots que ceux d’Édouard Manet, à la touche pourtant si différente de celle de Monet ou de Renoir, pourraient-ils mieux définir ce que fut l’Impressionnisme ? Sans doute cette singularité explique-t-elle que, peu de temps avant sa mort, Claude Monet écrivit : « Je reste désolé d’avoir été la cause du nom donné à un groupe dont la plupart n’avait rien d’impressionniste. » Nathalia Brodskaïa dégage ici les contradictions de cette fin du XIXe siècle à travers le paradoxe d’un groupe qui, tout en formant un ensemble cohérent, favorisa l’affirmation des individualités artistiques. Entre l’art académique et le commencement de la peinture moderne non figurative, le chemin pour parvenir à la reconnaissance fut long. Après avoir analysé les éléments fondateurs du mouvement, l’auteur poursuit son étude à travers l’Œuvre de chacun des artistes et démontre comment, de cette revendication à la différence, naquit la peinture moderne.
Développé à travers l’Europe pendant plus de 200 ans, l’art gothique est un mouvement qui trouve ses racines dans la puissante architecture des cathédrales du nord de la France. Délaissant la rondeur romane, les architectes commencèrent à utiliser les arcs-boutants et les voûtes en berceau brisé pour ouvrir les cathédrales à la lumière. Période de bouleversements économiques et sociaux, la période gothique vit aussi le développement d’une nouvelle iconographie célébrant la Vierge, à l’opposé de la thématique terrifiante de l’époque romane. Riche de changements dans tous les domaines (architecture, sculpture, peinture, enluminure, etc.), l’art gothique s’effaça peu à peu face à la Renaissance italienne.
Apparu à l’aube du XXe siècle, le Fauvisme explosa sur la scène artistique lors du Salon d’automne de 1905 en un scandale retentissant. En jetant des couleurs pures sur la toile, les fauves défièrent les conventions artistiques. Matisse, Derain, Van Dongen ou encore Vlaminck expérimentèrent ainsi un nouveau langage chromatique en détournant la couleur de son signifié. Libérée de tout sens, la couleur saturée et appliquée en larges aplats devint leur principal matériau. Dans cet ouvrage, l’auteur entraîne le lecteur dans un tourbillon de couleurs vives et franches, et montre combien la violence des fauves laissa son empreinte sur le chemin de la modernité.
Lautrec studied with two of the most admired academic painters of the day, Léon Bonnat and Fernand Cormon. Lautrec’s time in the studios of Bonnat and Cormon had the advantage of introducing him to the nude as a subject. At that time life-drawing of the nude was the basis of all academic art training in nineteenth-century Paris. While still a student, Lautrec began to explore Parisian nightlife, which was to provide him with his greatest inspiration, and eventually undermined his health. Lautrec was an artist able to stamp his vision of the age in which he lived upon the imagination of future generations. Just as we see the English court of Charles I through the eyes of van Dyck and the Paris of Louis-Philippe through the eyes of Daumier, so we see the Paris of the 1890s and its most colourful personalities, through the eyes of Lautrec. The first great personality of Parisian nightlife whom Lautrec encountered – and a man who was to play an important role in helping Lautrec develop his artistic vision – was the cabaret singer Aristide Bruant. Bruant stood out as an heroic figure in what was the golden age of Parisian cabaret. Among the many other performers inspiring Lautrec in the 1890s were the dancers La Goulue and Valentin-le-Desossé (who both appear in the famous Moulin Rouge poster), and Jane Avril and Loïe Fuller, the singers Yvette Guilbert, May Belfort and Marcelle Lender, and the actress Réjane. Lautrec was, along with Degas, one of the great poets of the brothel. Degas explored the theme in the late 1870s in a series of monotype prints that are among his most remarkable and personal works. He depicts the somewhat ungainly posturing of the prostitutes and their clients with human warmth and a satirical humour that brings these prints closer to the art of Lautrec than anything else by Degas. However, the truthfulness with which Lautrec portrayed those aspects of life that most of his more respectable contemporaries preferred to sweep under the carpet naturally caused offence. The German critic Gensel probably spoke for many when he wrote: “There can of course be no talk of admiration for someone who is the master of the representation of all that is base and perverse. The only explanation as to how such filth – there can be no milder term for it – as Elles can be publicly exhibited without an outcry of indignations being heard is that one half of the general public does not understand the meaning of this cycle at all, and the other is ashamed of admitting that it does understand it.”
For Claude Monet the designation ‘impressionist’ always remained a source of pride. In spite of all the things critics have written about his work, Monet continued to be a true impressionist to the end of his very long life. He was so by deep conviction, and for his Impressionism he may have sacrificed many other opportunities that his enormous talent held out to him. Monet did not paint classical compositions with figures, and he did not become a portraitist, although his professional training included those skills. He chose a single genre for himself, landscape painting, and in that he achieved a degree of perfection none of his contemporaries managed to attain. Yet the little boy began by drawing caricatures. Boudin advised Monet to stop doing caricatures and to take up landscapes instead. The sea, the sky, animals, people, and trees are beautiful in the exact state in which nature created them – surrounded by air and light. Indeed, it was Boudin who passed on to Monet his conviction of the importance of working in the open air, which Monet would in turn transmit to his impressionist friends. Monet did not want to enrol at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. He chose to attend a private school, L’Académie Suisse, established by an ex-model on the Quai d’Orfèvres near the Pont Saint-Michel. One could draw and paint from a live model there for a modest fee. This was where Monet met the future impressionist Camille Pissarro. Later in Gleyre’s studio, Monet met Auguste Renoir Alfred Sisley, and Frédéric Bazille. Monet considered it very important that Boudin be introduced to his new friends. He also told his friends of another painter he had found in Normandy. This was the remarkable Dutchman Jongkind. His landscapes were saturated with colour, and their sincerity, at times even their naïveté, was combined with subtle observation of the Normandy shore’s variable nature. At this time Monet’s landscapes were not yet characterized by great richness of colour. Rather, they recalled the tonalities of paintings by the Barbizon artists, and Boudin’s seascapes. He composed a range of colour based on yellow-brown or blue-grey. At the Third Impressionist Exhibition in 1877 Monet presented a series of paintings for the first time: seven views of the Saint-Lazare train station. He selected them from among twelve he had painted at the station. This motif in Monet’s work is in line not only with Manet’s Chemin de fer (The Railway) and with his own landscapes featuring trains and stations at Argenteuil, but also with a trend that surfaced after the railways first began to appear. In 1883, Monet had bought a house in the village of Giverny, near the little town of Vernon. At Giverny, series painting became one of his chief working procedures. Meadows became his permanent workplace. When a journalist, who had come from Vétheuil to interview Monet, asked him where his studio was, the painter answered, “My studio! I’ve never had a studio, and I can’t see why one would lock oneself up in a room. To draw, yes – to paint, no”. Then, broadly gesturing towards the Seine, the hills, and the silhouette of the little town, he declared, “There’s my real studio.”Monet began to go to London in the last decade of the nineteenth century. He began all his London paintings working directly from nature, but completed many of them afterwards, at Giverny. The series formed an indivisible whole, and the painter had to work on all his canvases at one time. A friend of Monet’s, the writer Octave Mirbeau, wrote that he had accomplished a miracle. With the help of colours he had succeeded in recreating on the canvas something almost impossible to capture: he was reproducing sunlight, enriching it with an infinite number of reflections. Alone among the impressionists, Claude Monet took an almost scientific study of the possibilities of colour to its limits; it is unlikely that one could have gone any further in that direction.
Paul Gauguin was first a sailor, then a successful stockbroker in Paris. In 1874 he began to paint at weekends as a Sunday painter. Nine years later, after a stock-market crash, he felt confident of his ability to earn a living for his family by painting and he resigned his position and took up the painter’s brush full time. Following the lead of Cézanne, Gauguin painted still-lifes from the very beginning of his artistic career. He even owned a still-life by Cézanne, which is shown in Gauguin’s painting Portrait of Marie Lagadu. The year 1891 was crucial for Gauguin. In that year he left France for Tahiti, where he stayed till 1893. This stay in Tahiti determined his future life and career, for in 1895, after a sojourn in France, he returned there for good. In Tahiti, Gauguin discovered primitive art, with its flat forms and violent colours, belonging to an untamed nature. With absolute sincerity, he transferred them onto his canvas. His paintings from then on reflected this style: a radical simplification of drawing; brilliant, pure, bright colours; an ornamental type composition; and a deliberate flatness of planes. Gauguin termed this style “synthetic symbolism”.
Since his death 200 years ago, Cézanne has become the most famous painter of the nineteenth century. He was born in Aix-en-Provence in 1839 and the happiest period of his life was his early youth in Provence, in company with Emile Zolá, another Italian. Following Zolá’s example, Cézanne went to Paris in his twenty-first year. During the Franco-Prussian war he deserted the military, dividing his time between open-air painting and the studio. He said to Vollard, an art dealer, “I’m only a painter. Parisian wit gives me a pain. Painting nudes on the banks of the Arc [a river near Aix] is all I could ask for.” Encouraged by Renoir, one of the first to appreciate him, he exhibited with the impressionists in 1874 and in 1877. He was received with derision, which deeply hurt him. Cézanne’s ambition, in his own words, was “to make out of Impressionism something as solid and durable as the paintings of the museums.” His aim was to achieve the monumental in a modern language of glowing, vibrating tones. Cézanne wanted to retain the natural colour of an object and to harmonise it with the various influences of light and shade trying to destroy it; to work out a scale of tones expressing the mass and character of the form. Cézanne loved to paint fruit because it afforded him obedient models and he was a slow worker. He did not intend to simply copy an apple. He kept the dominant colour and the character of the fruit, but heightened the emotional appeal of the form by a scheme of rich and concordant tones. In his paintings of still-life he is a master. His fruit and vegetable compositions are truly dramatic; they have the weight, the nobility, the style of immortal forms. No other painter ever brought to a red apple a conviction so heated, sympathy so genuinely spiritual, or an observation so protracted. No other painter of equal ability ever reserved for still-life his strongest impulses. Cézanne restored to painting the pre-eminence of knowledge, the most essential quality to all creative effort. The death of his father in 1886 made him a rich man, but he made no change in his abstemious mode of living. Soon afterwards, Cézanne retired permanently to his estate in Provence. He was probably the loneliest of painters of his day. At times a curious melancholy attacked him, a black hopelessness. He grew more savage and exacting, destroying canvases, throwing them out of his studio into the trees, abandoning them in the fields, and giving them to his son to cut into puzzles, or to the people of Aix. At the beginning of the century, when Vollard arrived in Provence with intentions of buying on speculation all the Cézannes he could get hold of, the peasantry, hearing that a fool from Paris was actually handing out money for old linen, produced from barns a considerable number of still-lifes and landscapes. The old master of Aix was overcome with joy, but recognition came too late. In 1906 he died from a fever contracted while painting in a downpour of rain.
Impressionism has always been one of the public’s favourite styles of art and Impressionist works continue to enchant beholders with their amazing play of colours and forms. This book offers a well-chosen selection of the most impressive works of artists such as Degas, Monet, Pissarro, Renoir and Sisley. Mega Square Impressionism pays tribute to the subject’s popularity.