Impressions of Paris: Lautrec, Degas, Daumier and Atget

Truth be told, I'm not a big fan of exhibitions or museums. Maybe it's my short attention span, but I could never see the attraction in walking around an enclosed space looking at objects on display for an entire day. When I was touring Italy a couple of years ago, I wanted to fully immerse myself in its rich history. But there are only so many palazzo I can gasp at before the opulence sets my expectations up too much and I get jaded by the beauty surrounding me. 

Because my brother-in-law has a keen eye for architecture, I did learn plenty about the Romanesque, Gothic, Baroque and Rococo style; my appreciation for historical buildings  grew as my knowledge increased. Still, it's easy to feel awed by huge buildings that stretch imposingly into the sky, and less so (for me) to be touched by pieces of paintings. After spending one too many hours in my vacation staring incomprehensibly at paintings while an English audio-book drones on into my ear, I found myself walking extra fast to get to the end of the museum, where I can have a seat at the cafe and get a cup of espresso. 

I "get" paintings with rich, beautiful colours depicting triumphant military generals winning a battle, but anything more sophisticated than that flies over my head. I have to admit, it rankled at me that I couldn't see what others are gazing in wonder at. The audiobooks help somewhat, but I didn't have the groundwork to see what others are admiring.   

Photo by R

Melbourne is no Florence, but just a couple of weeks ago, I chanced past a banner for Impressions of Paris, an ongoing exhibition featuring works of 19th-century French artists. On a whim, I decided to go, and dragged a few long-suffering friends with me. I warned them how foreign the art world is to me, but R and J had no idea - yet! - of the kiddy-pool level I was in.  (I volunteered that I had heard of Degas before, but neglected to mention that it was in the context of a White Collar episode.) 

I studiously read up on the artists (Well, during a class, so not that studious...)  And mea culpa, I asked for a little help online.

We skipped a day of school/work to attend the exhibition. The French would have approved. 

When we reached the exhibition, I circled around the exhibition room, hoping to find Lautrec's The Laundress, which I have already decided was my favourite. But no luck. Drat. Also, more importantly, I wanted to gauge how large the collection was, just to see whether I want need a coffee in-between. Luckily, it wasn't a huge collection, and perfect in quantity for a certain art newbie all jacked up on caffeine and hence is prone to getting distracted by shiny things. 

Please please don't say anything inappropriate in front of the curator. 

We snagged spots for the 12pm floor talk by the curator, who not only provided a succinct explanation for the goals of this exhibition, but also a quick overview of the history of art. I didn't connect the dots until he mentioned it, but some of his points are worth repeating:

Before the Impressionist movement, every artwork usually depicted someone who was politically or religiously significant. As time went by, wealthy people commissioned portraits of their themselves as a status symbol, but on a whole, the art scene tended to be backward-looking: the subjects were old war heroes and religious figures from holy books. These art works were also self-contained: the significant figure is centre of the painting, and everything that is significant is present within the frame. It was only from Daumier (a political satirist)  who embraced using modern current events as the focus in his artwork: anything from current unpopular political figures to fashion trends were fair game for him. Degas, one of the fathers of Impressionism, carried on this trend which led away from depicting religious figures and war heroes. Lautrec, another artist in the era, often drew inspiration from ordinary people going around doing their everyday activity: a working lady cleaning the floor, a woman climbing a flight of stairs, a couple gazing in each other's eyes in bed. All of these were a far cry from the norm of the paintings that have existed before. 

Degas's Pauline and Virginia Cardinal chatting with some admirers, 1876-77.

I missed it the first time, but notice how the man on the left has been cut off, which gave the impression of this scene as a point of view as seen by a person, and that there's more to the scene that what has been depicted. 

Lautrec's advertorial for Moulin Rouge, designed from the point of view of a performer on stage, staring out at harsh yellow lights, and the audience as a collection of silhouettes. 

Photo by R

Back to the D(egas). 

Degas's name drew me to this exhibition, and I harboured high expectations of being blown away. But his section here was a little underwhelming. As R commented, Impressionism demands colour. Black and white doesn't have the same feel. I felt a stronger compulsion towards Lautrec's paintings and his tragic backstory as a scorned artist who found companionship in the brothels of Paris, of which he was a frequent patron.  

Degas, a celebrated artist even in his days, seemed to delight in little moments of anonymity, capturing scenes from the peripheries of the action like a casual passer-by. Lautrec, as a scorned outcast, was taken with drawing scenes from how a person in the center of attention see things. Artists paint what they have, because that is what they are most familiar with, a sign mounted on the exhibition wall told us. But looking at the works by Degas and Lautrec, I don't believe that. Perhaps we are more familiar with not what we have, but what we yearn for. And that, is often that which we lack.    

The exhibition is open from 17 July 2015 to 20 September at Monash Gallery of Art. Floor talks are held every Tuesday at 12pm, and last for about 20 minutes. Up-to-date information about opening hours can be found here. For information about the art pieces on exhibition, this brochure is helpful (from the same site).

Photo by R