Posts Tagged 'Impressionism'

Why Did Pissarro Do This?

aa121

The Hills at l’Hermitage, Pointoise, c. 1867, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, NY

PDR 121

 Always pushing the edge of creativity and inventiveness, Pissarro painted The Hills at L’Hermitage, Pontoise in 1867, seven years before the first Impressionist Exhibition. But it demonstrates all the elements of Impressionism—the light palette, a scene of everyday life, and depiction of the weather.

It is the largest painting ever made by Pissarro. Paul Durand-Ruel, his agent, bought the painting in March 1873 and sold it the same day to Jean-Baptiste Faure, a famous operatic baritone who sang in Paris and London.

The people in Pissarro’s paintings are integral to its composition, but they are not there to tell a story.  In fact, they often raise questions that have no answers. In this painting, a woman and little girl are talking to another woman. Most scholars agree that they are in fact Julie, the painter’s wife, and his daughter Minette. They are talking to a woman whose back is towards us, but we can see from her arms clasped behind her back that she has dark skin. This is especially noticeable because the skin of Julie and Minette are very light, almost pink.

Who is this dark-skinned woman?  Is she an African or a gypsy woman?  What is the conversation between these two women from obviously different backgrounds?  As provocative as this question may be, the women are just two small elements in the painting. The difference in skin-color is so subtle that it goes unnoticed by many viewers. When you remember that everything in a painting is due to the artist’s choice, you wonder why Pissarro raised this unanswerable question.

PISSARRO IN THE NEW BARNES MUSEUM IN PHILADELPHIA!

The Garden de Maubuisson, Pontoise, Sunshine  1876

Philadelphia (PA) The Barnes Foundation       PDR 440

Tucked in among the largest collection of Renoirs in the world andkeeping company with an enormous group of Cezannes is one painting by Camille Pissarro.   Dr. Alfred C. Barnes, a medical doctor who made his fortune in the pharmaceutical industry, became interested in collecting the art of his time. According to the film at the Barnes Foundation, he sent his good friend and prominent Philadelphia artist (member of “The Eight”), William Glackens to Paris with $20,000 to buy paintings to begin his collection. This Pissarro was one of the 20 paintings that Glackens broughtback.

Camille Pissarro painted this garden scene in the Hermitage neighborhood of Pontoise in 1876.  Even today, it seems every home in the Hermitage has its own kitchen garden or orchard stretching down the hill behind the house. It looks like Pissarro set up his easel at the bottom of the hill and allowed the roofs of the houses to describe the hill’s steep incline. The colors in the painting are a textbook example of Impressionism. The lush greens of the vegetable plots in the foreground transition to yellow green of the leaves and then to the rich turquoise of the sky. The peachy pathways reflect the red roofs on the hill.

At first glance, the composition seems to be perfectly symmetrical—something Pissarro rarely did.  (It’s a mistake to say never about anything involving Pissarro since he frequently surprises you.)

The vertical path leads us to the focal point, an upright stone with two large stones at its base.  A womanin a white hat stands to the side. Rows of small trees (probably apple or pear trees) on each side lead straight back to the upright object and they are flanked by two rectangular green patches. But wait! If this is truly symmetrical, wouldn’t the focal point be in the center of the canvas? In fact, it is just to the left of center, creating an interesting tension and lifting the composition out of the ordinary.

Now you can see this gorgeous Pissarro in the Barnes Foundation collection.  But if you go, be aware that the Barnes REQUIRES RESERVATIONS –available by phone or online.  Check their website for full information (click on the link above).

YES….There are Pissarro Paintings at Pitti Palace in Florence

In a Kitchen Garden – PDR 558

Landscape Near Pontoise” – PDR 517

 

It seemed unlikely that Pissarro paintings would be in Florence, Italy. But there it was in the index of the Pissarro Critical Catalogue (Joachim Pissarro-Claire Durand-Ruel Snoellerts, 2005).

I had been to Pitti Palace before, but once again I was astounded by the opulence of the building and its furnishings. Upstairs in the Modern Gallery, I glanced in the side rooms, most of which were cordoned off with velvet ropes.  Inside one door was a small painting with familiar contours and shades of green.  It was Pissarro’s “Landscape Near Pontoise” (PDR 517). Just to the right and up higher, I thought I saw another Pissarro. I couldn’t be sure since there was a glare on the glass. I stood for a long time, straining my eyes but unable to really see either painting.

The guard was sitting in a nearby corner. I asked in my most courteous way if it would be possible to step just inside the door to see the Pissarros. “No,” polite but firm. Then I became desperate—how could I be so close and still not see them?  I poured out my heart….about studying Pissarro’s art for more than twenty years, writing a book about Pissarro, traveling all over the world (well, three continents) to see Pissarro paintings. She looked up from her book and said to me in English, “Wait.”

After a few minutes, she came back with a security guard, who as he approached me was already shaking his head no. He looked at me and I began my story again. I’ll never know if he understood what I said, but he obviously understood my longing.  “Just one minute,” he said as he lifted the velvet rope.

Inside, I had a perfect view of the landscape and was able to study the other painting, “In a Kitchen Garden” (PDR 558). The three of us—me and the two guards—stood there talking about how magnificent the paintings were. We attracted a small crowd drawn by the unusual event, so I had to go. But I had a good look at paintings that have probably been seen by very few people, compared to other Pissarro paintings in museums.

The Landscape was painted in 1877, and the Garden was painted in 1878, both of them while Pissarro was living in Pontoise. Both were painted after the Third Impressionist Exhibition in April 1877.  Both were purchased in Paris by the same man, Diego Martelli, an art critic from Florence, Italy and a friend of Degas. Martelli was a prominent supporter of the Macchiaioli, a group of Italian artists who painted in plein air and focused on light and color in much the same way as the French Impressionists.

Since Martelli took them home, the Pissarro paintings have never left Italy. Martelli loaned them both to an exhibition “Esposizione della Società di Incoraggiamento delle Belle Arti,” at the Pitti Palace in 1879. They were then bequeathed by Martelli to the Palazzo Vecchio, Florence. Since 1924, they have been in the Galleria d’Arte Moderna at the Pitti Palace.

They have been featured in exhibitions of French paintings in Florence, Rome and Venice. The Landscape was featured in exhibitions in Livorno and Reviso, and in 1997 it was included in an exhibition, “Camille Pissarro,” in Ferrara, Italy. It is little wonder that most of us have never seen these paintings. Though there was little opportunity to really study them, I am convinced that they are both superb examples of Pissarro’s work at the height of the Impressionist Movement.

The Definition of Impressionism

Factory on the Banks of the Oise, Saint-Ouen-l’Aumône

1873 Williamstown (Mass) Clark Art Institute

 PDR 300

 One warm spring day, Pissarro took his easel to the banks of the Oise River and made a painting that is archetypical of the Impressionist movement. It contains nearly all of the characteristics commonly associated with the Impressionist style: the lavish portrayal of sunlight; the consciousness of the changing weather as grey clouds crowd the intense blue sky; the presence of modernity in the new factories lining the bank of the Oise River; and the immediacy of the scene which bespeaks en plein air painting.

The painting itself has a classic composition divided almost equally between the sky and the earth with the river dwindling away on the right side. The water, still as a mirror, reflects the smokestacks and buildings on the other side and connects them with the freshness of the spring flowers in the right foreground. The factory, a distillery, had just been completed in 1872. The white building with the small smokestack is still there along with a few of the small buildings.

 

 

Cricket? In French Impressionism?

Hampton Court Green, London

1891 Washington, DC National Gallery of Arts

PDR 887

Pissarro was intrigued by motifs that were typically English. During his second London visit in 1890, he painted his first cricket match. He must have enjoyed the game because he painted two more cricket matches on his fourth London visit.

A cricket match is not the easiest thing to depict—the players are spread out over a large playing field. Pissarro capitalizes on the expansiveness of the green lawns edged by magnificent shade trees. He allows them to extend well beyond the edges of the canvas, giving a feeling of endlessness. This and the substantial clubhouse buildings must have been an interesting change for the painter who generally confined his motif to what the eye would see in a glance. Since the painting carries the date of 1891, Pissarro must have finished it in his studio in Éragny after his return from London.

When this painting was exhibited in Belgium the next year, it attracted the enthusiastic attention of art reviewers. One critic said that the painting “showing a lawn bathed in summer light, crowded with cricket players […], possesses above all an extra-ordinary intensity. It miraculously suggests the sumptuous aristocratic English life.”

A Puzzle to Mid-Nineteenth Century Eyes…Still Puzzling Now

Hoar-Frost at Ennery

1873 Musée d’Orsay, Paris  PDR 285


One cold winter morning, Pissarro carried his easel directly north of Pontoise to the fields of nearby Ennery. The painting he made there, Hoar-Frost at Ennery, was shown in the first exhibition of the Impressonists at Nadar’s studio in Paris in 1874.

Responses from some of the art critics of the time were extremely harsh. One critic pointed out what was considered one of the most serious mistakes of that era, showing shadows on the ground of trees that are not in the picture. Another proclaimed that the painting had “neither head nor tail, neither top nor bottom, neither front nor back.”

Even to our eyes, the painting is dramatically different from other Impressionist paintings. This is no Sisley landscape with reflections in the river or Monet haystacks. Those are simple to understand. At first glance, this painting seems commonplace with the horizon line two-thirds of the way to the top. But below that is an extremely complex composition. The only familiar reference points are the bare trees and the peasant. Two-thirds of the painting is a patchwork of colors crisscrossed by parallel lines with a dark green anchor near the center. The work could be that of a contemporary abstract artist.

Elizabeth Taylor’s Pissarro to be Auctioned at Christie’s

 

PHOTO AND CAPTION FROM ARTDAILY.ORG— A Christie's employee poses with an artwork, titled Pommiers a Eragny, by French artist Camille Pissarro (1830-1903) during an auction preview in London. The painting, which forms part of The Collection of Elizabeth Taylor, is estimated to fetch between 900,000-1.2 million GBP at Christie's Impressionist and Modern Art sale on 07 February. EPA/KERIM OKTEN. For full story, see http://www.artdaily.org

FINISHED…. OR UNFINISHED…..

           What do you think?  Please comment.

One of Pissarro’s most intriguing paintings, Chestnut Trees at Louveciennes, (1872, Paris, Musée d’Orsay, PDR 218*) appears somewhat ordinary on first glance. Unlike most of Pissarro’s paintings, this one has a distinct focal point, a large red brick house right in the center.

The painting gets its name from the curvy chestnut trees that provide a frame around the house.  Indeed, the two trees on the right side appear to be joined together in the arching branches. It is only with a closer look that we determine that the two branches have their own extensions and are not grown together.

The bright winter sun glints pale yellow on the snow-covered ground causing the trees and fence to cast blue shadows across the foreground. The woman and child may be Julie, Pissarro’s wife and their daughter Minette, who would have been six at the time. But we are unable to see their faces clearly.

The choice of motif is interesting in that this house in Louveciennes looks more like the large Victorian houses Pissarro painted in London. The house has mysteries of its own, which are less visible in photographs but quite obvious on the original canvas.

In the area above the little girl’s head and beneath the interlocking tree branches, there is a yellowish-pink color that is totally different from the blue sky and white clouds above. In the space between the white pillar at the back of the house and the little building to the right, we see two dark spots surrounded by a white area. These spots seem similar in size and shape to the small windows on the side of the house. Between the house and the little building are several sketchy marks that suggest the framework of another house, or perhaps an extension between the two buildings—a ghostly apparition.

At this point, we cannot say whether Pissarro intended to do additional work in that part of the canvas. What we do know is that it was in the collection of Dr. Gachet.  Vincent van Gogh saw it in 1890 and wrote his brother Theo that it was a “very fine Pissarro, [a] winter [scene] with a red house under snow.”

*PDR refers to the number of this painting in the Pissarro Critical Catalogue by Joachim Pissarro and Claire Durand-Ruel Snoellerts, published in 2005.

THE ABSTRACT PISSARRO

                  

La Côte des Bœufs, Pontoise 1877, The National Gallery, London - PDR 488

Many of the paintings of Camille Pissarro are unquestionably Impressionistic icons. Others, however, have surprising elements uncharacteristic of the typical Impressionist model. These unexpected aspects occur more frequently in Pissarro’s late paintings, but they also appear in works completed early in his career when Impressionism was at its peak. Puzzling and out of the ordinary, they make some Pissarro paintings difficult to read with the usual Impressionist language.

This visionary artist invented techniques that foreshadowed not only pointillism, his well-known diversion from Impressionism, but other techniques that would not even have a name until the mid-20th century. This comparison of a painting by Pissarro with one of Jackson Pollock reveals just how far Pissarro pushed into the future.

Pissarro and other Impressionists developed a new art that expressed their visual sensations. They painted modern life with bright high-keyed colors and visible brush strokes. They painted en plein air, gathering their sensations from the scene itself. In this inventive and defiant environment, Pissarro turned his back on academic painting and the Salon.

Like Pissarro, Jackson Pollock began with the academic painting of his day. A student of Thomas Hart Benton, he learned the rules of representational painting. However, a new spirit was brewing in New York, one that would discard realism and retain only its essence. When abstract expressionism did not yield the latitude he required, Pollock spread his canvas on the floor, layered it with color, and dribbled it with paint.

The link between Pissarro and Pollock was first observed three decades ago by the distinguished art historian Christopher Lloyd, who said, “The degree of sophistication in the variety and application of colour by Pissarro … finds a distant echo in, for example, the canvases of Jackson Pollock.” Though the careers of the two artists were separated by fifty years, a comparison of two of their paintings provides evidence that both artists were pushing the boundaries of current painting in ways that are strikingly similar.

Enchanted Forest 1947, Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice

In a study of Pissarro’s La Côte des Bœufs, Pontoise and Pollock’s Enchanted Forest, the ironic resemblance in names is irrelevant in light of other more remarkable parallels. The most obvious comparison is the verticality of both paintings. The upright format of the Pissarro is in itself unusual because at that time most landscapes, both Impressionist and academic, had a horizontal format. Pollock’s painting is also vertical and even more slender relative to its height.

In 1877 when Pissarro painted this canvas, most Impressionists used techniques of painting, composition, and color to draw attention to a single subject—a church, a bridge, a bank of flowers. However, this painting, like many of Pissarro’s works, has no central focal point. The artist fails to define what he means the viewer to see. The background is blocked by a hill, creating a high horizon line and allowing little room for blue sky and clouds. The houses, set on the hill at various levels, are not the focus; they are virtually hidden by a screen of tall trees, forcing the eye to work through a maze for a glimpse of their red roofs. The trees are obviously not the focal point because all the viewer sees is their middle portion. The treetops are cut off by the upper edge of the canvas. The tree roots are hidden by scrubby bushes, so bland in color that they clearly are not the focus. To the left, a small brook runs across the corner; but it is so insignificant in size, placement, and color that it often goes unnoticed. Peering out of the buses are two small faces that, if they are seen at all, challenge the viewer to wonder about their presence. Indeed, there is no clear focal point at all. The obvious conclusion is that Pissarro meant the viewer to see the overall painting—together as one unit—forcing the eye to wander without guidance in and out of the trees.

In the Enchanted Forest, the thin painted swirls resemble Pissarro’s tall curvaceous tree branches and scrubby bushes. The lower layers are spread with warm earth tones from bottom to top and dotted with small thin splashes of a rusty red similar to Pissarro’s red roofs. The upper layers are a tangle of green, beige and black arches and curves, which form an effective screen for the colors below. [Colors in photos are rarely as good as in person.] As in the Pissarro, there is no focal point. The eye wanders restlessly in and out of the swirls and beneath the various layers to find the painting, which can only be seen in its totality.

In 1955, Clement Greenberg gave this phenomenon the name of “all-over” painting, and abstract expressionists used the technique to banish representational painting. Eighty years earlier, Pissarro was already using all-over painting with no focal point. Even though the elements in his painting—trees, houses, hill and sky—are recognizable, the viewer sees them simply as abstract elements that dissolve into the painting’s unity. In fact, all-over painting became a feature of many of his landscapes and cityscapes.

Though the Pissarro motif suggests depth, the intensity of colors push the background forward, flattening the perspective and making the view appear more shallow than one would imagine. In the Pollock painting, the impasto of the multiple layers suggests that the painting has depth. Yet the swirls and splatters contain the eye within the shallow view.

Pissarro and Pollock also used color in similar ways. In Pissarro’s landscape, the earth tone colors are nearly the same value, low keyed to suggest the shade of the trees and perhaps late afternoon shadows. Even the blue sky is hazy, with grayish white clouds and no obvious sun. Similarly, Pollock used earth tones of close values, low-keyed and shadowy along with black. The hints of red are a muted brick. The green of the drippings is low-key, fitting into the earth tone palette.

Both paintings use color and thickly applied texture to define layers. Pissarro used brushes to build thick masses of pigment on the canvas. Pollock used heavy coats of paint topped with swirls and splatters. While the two paintings are decidedly different, the effect they achieve is amazingly similar.

Pissarro pushed his innovative layering and all-over painting to the limit in the 1870s, but it had no name until eight decades later when Pollock and other abstract expressionists refined the concept.

* PDR – Number of painting in the Pissarro:Critical Catalogue of Paintings. Joachim Pissarro and Claire Durand-Ruel Snollaerts, 2005.
References:
Varnadoe, Kirk. Jackson Pollock. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1998, pp 23 and 47.
Lloyd, Christopher. Pissarro. New York: Rizzoli Interntional Publications, Inc. 1981, p 110.
Lloyd, Christopher. Camille Pissarro: St. Thomas to Paris. London:Stern Pissarro Gallery, 2003, p 44.
Greenberg, Clement. “American-type” Painting. Partisan Review. 1955; 22:179-196.

PISSARRO’S PEOPLE: A Revealing Book about Pissarro’s Philosophy of Art and Life

We thought we knew the Impressionist, Camille Pissarro. But the exhibition, Pissarro’s People curated by Richard Brettell, has expanded our notions about this radical artist. While the exhibition will close in less than a week, the concept and ideas it communicated are broadened in the superb exhibition catalog.

The painter, better known for his lyrical and sometimes puzzling landscapes, continues to surprise anyone who thinks his works are “just pretty pictures.” Never more so than in this powerful collection of figure paintings that range from his earliest career to the end of his days. He painted friends and neighbors busy at everyday tasks in the fields and orchards or selling produce at outdoor markets in Pontoise and Gisors. All are portrayed just as they are, with honesty and respect.

There is a part of Pissarro that none of us knew very well. He was an anarchist, who was disturbed by the problems he saw in capitalism. To share his beliefs with his grown nieces, Pissarro made drawings of shameful situations in the society of his time. His son Lucien bound them in a book called Turpitudes Sociales. The book has reproductions of these drawings, and now we can see what worried him. Unfortunately, many of those same things still worry us.

Much more than a catalogue, the book introduces us to part of Pissarro that we did not know before. We realize what a complex person he was and begin to understand how that is reflected in his art. The book is engaging, thought-provoking, and an enjoyable read.

Most often, Pissarro’s paintings receive easy categorization and hasty analysis. But this book clearly indicates that his work deserves much more—a closer look for universal truth.


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