It takes a split second these days to create an image, and how many millions are recorded daily on mobile phones, possibly never to be looked at again? You can see it all happening in the palatial surroundings of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, definitely one of those tick-off destinations on many travellers' bucket lists, where those in search of instant pictorial satisfaction throng the imposing statue-lined staircase for a selfie or pout for a photo in the café under the spectacular cupola. But we're not in Vienna for a quick fix, we're at the KHM to admire something more enduring in the shape of art produced almost 500 years ago by Rembrandt and his pupil Samuel van Hoogstraten that was intended to mislead your eyes into seeing the real in the unreal. Artistic deception is the story at the centre of Rembrandt--Hoogstraten: Colour and Illusion , one of the most engrossing and best-staged exhibitions we've seen this year. And, somewhat surprisingly, a show wi...
Manet, Renoir, Van Gogh: Names now so mainstream that it's hard to comprehend how challenging their art was a century and more ago. One man and his deep pockets did perhaps more than anyone else to bring their work to Britain: Samuel Courtauld. His vision is being celebrated in the hugely enjoyable Courtauld Impressionists exhibition at London's National Gallery.
Courtauld was a textile manufacturer who in the early part of the 20th century not only built up his own impressive collection of modern French art (subsequently forming the gallery that bears his name) but also helped fund and acquire similar works for the nation. With the Courtauld on the Strand closed for refurbishment for the next two years, there's a rare chance to admire both sets of paintings hung side by side in the National Gallery, including some of the most recognisable images in art history, revealing how much Britain is indebted to Courtauld's daring taste for the avant-garde.
Courtauld began collecting in the early 1920s. A few years earlier, he'd been impressed by seeing Edouard Manet's Music in the Tuileries Gardens in the National, the painter's first major work to portray modern city life but one that had confused contemporary viewers with its loose brushwork. This show has a straightforward format: In each of the three large rooms four painters get their own corner and a brief introduction. A delightful touch are the large-scale blow-ups of photos from Country Life illustrating how the paintings looked in situ on the walls of Courtauld's London mansion, Home House.
Manet is a leading light of the first section, along with Claude Monet and Edgar Degas. It's one of Manet's late paintings, a really famous one, that's the star attraction among his work. It's also one of the most puzzling of images. What is going on? We're at A Bar at the Folies-Bergère in Paris, and it's 1882. The barmaid is looking straight back at us, though her attention is somehow elsewhere, and in the mirror behind her we can see the music hall reflected straight back at us. But there seems something awry with the reflection, because the barmaid is at an angle.... and she looks to be leaning forward, deep in conversation with the top-hatted gent who surely ought to be standing in front of us at the bar, but isn't.
While Manet was not actually an Impressionist himself, one of his works here presents what in many ways is a typically Impressionist view: The Banks of the Seine at Argenteuil gives us the blue of the river, sailing boats, a woman and child in sketchy white. It was painted when Manet visited Monet at the home he shared with his first wife on the Seine outside Paris. Appositely hung next to it is Monet's Autumn Effect at Argenteuil from the same period. No people, no boats in this depiction.
As for Degas, it's his portraits that stand out: his cousin Elena Carafa, painted in Naples in 1875, slouching in an armchair looking defiant, and Degas's fellow artist Carlo Pellegrini, in a style echoing Pellegrini's own caricatures. This picture was presented to the nation by art dealer Joseph Duveen, whose financing of new rooms to display modern foreign paintings at the Tate may have inspired Courtauld.
The businessman had a fondness for Pierre-Auguste Renoir, and the painter's The Skiff had pride of place above the mantelpiece in Courtauld's front parlour, as one of the Country Life photos shows. Another Renoir, La Loge, failed to sell when it was shown in London after the first Impressionist exhibition in 1874. We're told Courtauld bought it 50 years later for what was seen as a "staggering price". Unfortunately -- and this is a weakness of this show -- we're not told how much that was, or how it compared with other art being bought at the time.
The curators do give us the opportunity to compare and contrast the Courtauld Gallery's La Loge right next to the National's At the Theatre (La Première Sortie), depicting a young girl's first outing into society to see a play.
Across from the Renoirs, there's one painting that looms large over this second room, and it's Georges Seurat's Bathers at Asnières. Looking at it again here, you're struck by its monumental scale and sheer audacious modernity. This isn't a fleeting impression, it's meticulously planned in academic fashion, yet so radically different from what's gone before.
Close by is another fascinating Seurat, Young Woman Powdering Herself, depicting the artist's lover and model, Madeleine Knobloch. Here is Seurat's pointillism in all its glory, even in the contrasting false frame around the painting.
There's Toulouse-Lautrec in this room too, in the shape of Jane Avril in the Entrance to the Moulin Rouge, Putting on her Gloves. The dancer's reserved and concentrated expression is at odds with the exuberance her performances were famed for. Another anecdote helps give this show a special flavour: Courtauld was annoyed when the delivery of this painting was delayed; he had a space in his front parlour reserved for it.
The artist Courtauld bought more of than any other was Paul Cézanne, with 11 pictures, and there are nine Cézannes in this show, dominating the final room. Courtauld saw a Cézanne landscape in 1922 and said that "at that moment I felt the magic." Tall Trees at the Jas de Bouffan is one of the landscapes here, depicting the estate owned by the artist's father in small parallel brushstrokes, creating a shimmering effect that makes the leaves appear to rustle in the breeze.
This Self-Portrait was the first Cézanne to enter the national collection, and it's the only self-portrait by the artist in the UK out of the 30 he made.
Now, the Qatari royal family was reported a few years ago to have paid $250 million for one of the five versions of Cézanne's Card Players, so it would be nice to know how much Courtauld dished out for his version a century past. It was his second most expensive Cézanne, we're told, and he coveted it so much he considered trading a rather splendid view of the Lac d'Annecy for it.
Courtauld's first post-Impressionist purchase was Gauguin's Haystacks, and he once owned 16 Gauguins. There's more Gauguin in this show, but, surprisingly, only one Van Gogh, A Wheatfield with Cypresses, the first by the Dutch artist to enter a public collection in the UK, in 1923.
The fund Courtauld set up also bought contemporary works. The final artist featured in this show is Pierre Bonnard, and The Table was purchased for the Tate just a year after it was painted. Bonnard was fascinated with white, and it dominates this work, which conceals a small dog at the left of the canvas waiting to given some food.
What a pleasurable experience this has been, we thought, as we came to the end of this tour of pictures that once struggled to win over the critics and public but are now so beloved. Yet there's more in store. You leave the show via Room 41, which is free to visit as usual, and where there are further works by the Impressionists and their friends. It is heaving with visitors, unsurprisingly.
Do fight the crowds for a few minutes, though, because there are a couple more pictures to enjoy in this room that the Courtauld Fund bought for Britain. Here are the Van Goghs that rightfully belong in the exhibition as well: Sunflowers and Van Gogh's Chair. Oh, and Monet too: The Gare St Lazare and, of course, The Water-Lily Pond. Feel some more magic.
Claude Monet, Autumn Effect at Argenteuil, 1873. © The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, La Loge (Theatre Box), 1874. © The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London
Georges Seurat, Bathers at Asnières, 1884. © The National Gallery, London
Paul Cézanne, Self-Portrait, about 1880-1. © The National Gallery, London
Pierre Bonnard, The Table, 1925. © Tate, London
Courtauld began collecting in the early 1920s. A few years earlier, he'd been impressed by seeing Edouard Manet's Music in the Tuileries Gardens in the National, the painter's first major work to portray modern city life but one that had confused contemporary viewers with its loose brushwork. This show has a straightforward format: In each of the three large rooms four painters get their own corner and a brief introduction. A delightful touch are the large-scale blow-ups of photos from Country Life illustrating how the paintings looked in situ on the walls of Courtauld's London mansion, Home House.
Manet is a leading light of the first section, along with Claude Monet and Edgar Degas. It's one of Manet's late paintings, a really famous one, that's the star attraction among his work. It's also one of the most puzzling of images. What is going on? We're at A Bar at the Folies-Bergère in Paris, and it's 1882. The barmaid is looking straight back at us, though her attention is somehow elsewhere, and in the mirror behind her we can see the music hall reflected straight back at us. But there seems something awry with the reflection, because the barmaid is at an angle.... and she looks to be leaning forward, deep in conversation with the top-hatted gent who surely ought to be standing in front of us at the bar, but isn't.
The businessman had a fondness for Pierre-Auguste Renoir, and the painter's The Skiff had pride of place above the mantelpiece in Courtauld's front parlour, as one of the Country Life photos shows. Another Renoir, La Loge, failed to sell when it was shown in London after the first Impressionist exhibition in 1874. We're told Courtauld bought it 50 years later for what was seen as a "staggering price". Unfortunately -- and this is a weakness of this show -- we're not told how much that was, or how it compared with other art being bought at the time.
Across from the Renoirs, there's one painting that looms large over this second room, and it's Georges Seurat's Bathers at Asnières. Looking at it again here, you're struck by its monumental scale and sheer audacious modernity. This isn't a fleeting impression, it's meticulously planned in academic fashion, yet so radically different from what's gone before.
There's Toulouse-Lautrec in this room too, in the shape of Jane Avril in the Entrance to the Moulin Rouge, Putting on her Gloves. The dancer's reserved and concentrated expression is at odds with the exuberance her performances were famed for. Another anecdote helps give this show a special flavour: Courtauld was annoyed when the delivery of this painting was delayed; he had a space in his front parlour reserved for it.
The artist Courtauld bought more of than any other was Paul Cézanne, with 11 pictures, and there are nine Cézannes in this show, dominating the final room. Courtauld saw a Cézanne landscape in 1922 and said that "at that moment I felt the magic." Tall Trees at the Jas de Bouffan is one of the landscapes here, depicting the estate owned by the artist's father in small parallel brushstrokes, creating a shimmering effect that makes the leaves appear to rustle in the breeze.
This Self-Portrait was the first Cézanne to enter the national collection, and it's the only self-portrait by the artist in the UK out of the 30 he made.
Courtauld's first post-Impressionist purchase was Gauguin's Haystacks, and he once owned 16 Gauguins. There's more Gauguin in this show, but, surprisingly, only one Van Gogh, A Wheatfield with Cypresses, the first by the Dutch artist to enter a public collection in the UK, in 1923.
The fund Courtauld set up also bought contemporary works. The final artist featured in this show is Pierre Bonnard, and The Table was purchased for the Tate just a year after it was painted. Bonnard was fascinated with white, and it dominates this work, which conceals a small dog at the left of the canvas waiting to given some food.
Do fight the crowds for a few minutes, though, because there are a couple more pictures to enjoy in this room that the Courtauld Fund bought for Britain. Here are the Van Goghs that rightfully belong in the exhibition as well: Sunflowers and Van Gogh's Chair. Oh, and Monet too: The Gare St Lazare and, of course, The Water-Lily Pond. Feel some more magic.
Practicalities
Courtauld Impressionists runs until January 20 at the National Gallery. Standard admission is £7.50, which is remarkably good value for a London exhibition these days. Opening hours are 1000-1800 every day, with lates on Fridays until 2100. The National Gallery is on the north side of Trafalgar Square, just a couple of minutes from Charing Cross or Leicester Square stations on the rail and Underground networks.Images
Edouard Manet, A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, 1882. © The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, LondonClaude Monet, Autumn Effect at Argenteuil, 1873. © The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, La Loge (Theatre Box), 1874. © The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London
Georges Seurat, Bathers at Asnières, 1884. © The National Gallery, London
Paul Cézanne, Self-Portrait, about 1880-1. © The National Gallery, London
Pierre Bonnard, The Table, 1925. © Tate, London
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