Manet, A Bar at the Folies-Bergere, 1881-2
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The title A Bar at the Folies-Bergère might have you expecting a simple depiction of another night out in 19th century Paris. But Édouard Manet laced this 1882 masterpiece with mystery, from the ambiguous expression of its central figure to the smoke and mirrors of its execution.
1. A BAR AT THE FOLIES-BERGÈRE IS A GRAND SIGHT TO BEHOLD.
Measuring in at 37.8 inches by 51.2 inches, it is a large piece. Moreover, Manet included curious details, like a woman peering through opera glasses, that force the viewer to imagine what might exist beyond the frame.
2. IT'S SET IN A PARISIAN HOT SPOT.
Established in 1869, Folies-Bergère is more than a bar. It was a music hall where the upper middle class of Paris flocked for a wide array of spectacular entertainment, including ballet, cabaret, acrobatics, pantomime, operetta, and animal acts. As you might imagine with so much going on, the place was also a hang-out for artists seeking inspiration.
3. IT WAS NOT PAINTED AT THE BAR.
Though Manet did several preparatory sketches on location, he worked on this massive masterpiece in the privacy of his studio.
4. A TRAPEZE ARTIST HIDES ALMOST OUT OF FRAME.
Look to the upper left corner of A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, and you'll notice a pair of green slippers at the ends of two pale legs, standing on a swing. These limbs belong to an acrobat performing for the wealthy guests of this extravagant bar. Just another night at Folies-Bergère!
5. A CONTEMPORARY BEER MAKES A CAMEO.
To the right of the bottle of red wine, you'll see a brown bottle with a red triangle on its label, which was the UK's first registered trademark. That's the logo for Bass Brewery, established in 1777 and still in production today.
6. A BAR AT THE FOLIES-BERGÈRE WITHSTOOD ACCUSATIONS OF FLAWED PERSPECTIVE.
At first glance, you might think the balconies and grandness of the titular bar sit behind the becoming barmaid. But if you observe the bottles to her left and the woman turned away at her right, you'll see these are reflections from the mirror, the gold frame of which can be spotted behind her wrists. Confusion arose from this use of perspective. Is the viewer meant to be the mustachioed gentleman to the right? If so, the angles of the mirror seem off. Is it Manet's mistake?
7. ITS DISTINCTIVE PERSPECTIVE SPARKED DEBATE.
Some say the potentially flawed perspective was meant to show us two sides of this woman's experience. In the reflection, she appears to lean in, being engaged and even potentially flirtatious with her customer. In the other reality, she is at best ambivalent to his presumed attentions. And if we're meant to stand in for the man, did Manet intend for us to empathize with her or him?
8. THE BARMAID MAY BE A PROSTITUTE.
Nearly 20 years earlier Manet stirred controversy with The Luncheon on the Grass and Olympia for their perceived display of prostitutes on the job, so he wouldn't have shied away from the subject matter. And it wouldn't have been crazy to suggest that the famous bar's workers were selling more than just refreshments—the writer Guy de Maupassant famously and none-too-subtly called Folies-Bergère's barmaids "vendors of drink and of love." Some viewers have suggested this double life is what the painting's mirror is actually reflecting.
9. MANET PAINTED HER ONCE MORE.
Today we know her only as Suzon. She was an actual barmaid at Folies-Bergère, and that's likely where she met Manet. He also painted her portrait in a piece known today as Model for the barmaid of A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, which can be found at the Musée des Beaux Arts in Dijon.
10. THE REFLECTED INTIMACY MIGHT BE A TRICK OF THE EYE.
Art historian Malcolm Park created a photographic reconstruction and diagram to map out where the barmaid, the top-hatted customer, and the viewer would have been in the actual bar. Park's findings indicated the viewer is not the man pictured, but a person coming from the right and therefore not reflected in the mirror. This perspective condenses the distance between the reflected man and woman, visually creating a false sense of intimacy in the mirror. Even this knowledge doesn't resolve the questions of Manet's emotional intentions.
11. AN EARLIER DRAFT OF THE FINAL PAINTING OFFERS A CURIOUS CONTRAST.
The preparatory sketch Le Bar Aux Folies-Bergère shows Manet initially tested a version where the barmaid was turned more clearly toward her customer, altering the perplexing perspective.
12. X-RAYS REVEALED MANET MADE A MAJOR CHANGE DURING PAINTING.
Scans showed Manet originally painted the barmaid with her arms crossed at her waist, her right hand holding her left forearm above the wrist. It's a pose that more closely mimicked the early sketch than the final piece, and seemed to suggest a more obvious vulnerability.
13. LAS MENINAS MIGHT BE AN INFLUENCE.
Diego Velázquez's unusual royal portrait from 1656 also played with perspective in a way that's long inspired debate and interpretation. Manet was a noted admirer of the 17th century Spanish painter's works. Art historians suspect A Bar at the Folies-Bergère was his take on that strange and seemingly candid portrait.
14. IT WAS MANET'S LAST MAJOR WORK.
Manet's illustrious career was studded with groundbreaking works that bridged the gap between Realism and Impressionism while sometimes courting controversy. When the Parisian art scene couldn't grasp his greatness, he spent his own money to fund his exhibitions. In 1882, A Bar at the Folies-Bergère made its debut at the prestigious Paris Salon. The artist's health was fading as he struggled to complete the piece that would become one of his most acclaimed. Manet died at age 51 the following April with A Bar at the Folies-Bergère back in his studio.
15. THIS PARIS SCENE LIVES IN LONDON.
English industrialist Samuel Courtauld was an ardent art collector who donated a wealth of works to The Courtauld Gallery upon co-founding it in 1932. A Bar at the Folies-Bergère is not only one of several Manet works the London museum boasts, but also one of its most famous pieces.
Monet, Train in the Countryside, 1872
This small painting, dating from before the official birth of the Impressionist movement - the first exhibition of the group would only take place four years later - is representative of the preference for the domesticated natural settings found to the west of Paris over the "wilder" nature of the countryside outside the Paris region; the young generation of plein air painters preferred to set their easels in front of a man-made, garden-like nature.
In spite of the remark by the critic Jules Champfleury in his manifesto Le Realism published in 1857: "Isn't the machine, and the role it plays in the landscape, enough to make a good painting?" - the emergence of an industrial subject - in this case the railway - remains quite allusive. Here, only the carriages are visible; the engine is hidden behind a screen of vegetation, its presence revealed only by a plume of smoke. The machine, which had not yet achieved the status of an aesthetic object, is screened here by dense trees.
At a technical level, the time not having yet come for scattered multiple brushstrokes, the tones of a restricted palette, homogeneous and vividly contrasted, are placed in broad areas according to a simplified distribution of light and shade, rather similar from a tonal point of view to the early photographs.
Monet, Gare St Lazare, 1877
When he painted The Saint-Lazare Station, Monet had just left Argenteuil to settle in Paris. After several years of painting in the countryside, he turned to urban landscapes. At a time when the critics Duranty and Zola exhorted artists to paint their own times, Monet tried to diversify his sources of inspiration and longed to be considered, like Manet, Degas and Caillebotte, a painter of modern life.
In 1877, settling in the Nouvelle Athènes area, Claude Monet asked for permission to work in the Gare Saint-Lazare that marked its boundary on one side. Indeed, this was an ideal setting for someone who sought the changing effects of light, movement, clouds of steam and a radically modern motif. From there followed a series of paintings with different viewpoints including views of the vast hall. In spite of the apparent geometry of the metallic frame, what prevails here is really the effects of colour and light rather than a concern for describing machines or travellers in detail. Certain zones, true pieces of pure painting, achieve an almost abstract vision. This painting was praised by another painter of modern life, Gustave Caillebotte, whose painting was often the opposite of Monet's.
Manet, Le Dejeuner sur l'Herbe, 1863
Rejected by the jury of the 1863 Salon, Manet exhibited Le déjeuner sur l'herbe under the title Le Bain at the Salon des Refusés (initiated the same year by Napoléon III) where it became the principal attraction, generating both laughter and scandal.
Yet in Le déjeuner sur l'herbe, Manet was paying tribute to Europe's artistic heritage, borrowing his subject from the Concert champêtre - a painting by Titian attributed at the time to Giorgione (Louvre) - and taking his inspiration for the composition of the central group from the Marcantonio Raimondi engraving after Raphael's Judgement of Paris.But the classical references were counterbalanced by Manet's boldness. The presence of a nude woman among clothed men is justified neither by mythological nor allegorical precedents. This, and the contemporary dress, rendered the strange and almost unreal scene obscene in the eyes of the public of the day. Manet himself jokingly nicknamed his painting "la partie carrée".
In those days, Manet's style and treatment were considered as shocking as the subject itself. He made no transition between the light and dark elements of the picture, abandoning the usual subtle gradations in favour of brutal contrasts, thereby drawing reproaches for his "mania for seeing in blocks". And the characters seem to fit uncomfortably in the sketchy background of woods from which Manet has deliberately excluded both depth and perspective. Le déjeuner sur l'herbe - testimony to Manet's refusal to conform to convention and his initiation of a new freedom from traditional subjects and modes of representation - can perhaps be considered as the departure point for Modern Art.
Manet, Olympia, 1863
With Olympia, Manet reworked the traditional theme of the female nude, using a strong, uncompromising technique. Both the subject matter and its depiction explain the scandal caused by this painting at the 1865 Salon. Even though Manet quoted numerous formal and iconographic references, such as Titian's Venus of Urbino, Goya's Maja desnuda, and the theme of the odalisque with her black slave, already handled by Ingres among others, the picture portrays the cold and prosaic reality of a truly contemporary subject.
Venus has become a prostitute, challenging the viewer with her calculating look. This profanation of the idealized nude, the very foundation of academic tradition, provoked a violent reaction. Critics attacked the "yellow-bellied odalisque" whose modernity was nevertheless defended by a small group of Manet's contemporaries with Zola at their head.
Monet, Garden of the Princess, 1867
Garden of the Princess was painted from the colonnade of the Louvre in the spring of 1867, at the time of the opening of the Exposition universelle where Japanese art created widespread interest. Garden of the Princess presents random social groupings within a complex urban space, with interwoven trees and buildings. Monet's distant Pantheon is sharply defined and the chimney pots in the middle distance are as sharp as the trunks of the regimented rosebushes in the garden below. Monet looked down steeply onto the lawn below the Louvre, representing it as an absolutely flat, unmodulated plane of green paint.
Monet's selective focus on certain figures — such as the couple or the nursemaid in the garden, or the woman in a pink dress caught by a gleam of light under the trees — gives a sense of human presence within the distantly observed urban crowd. He may have developed this mode of representation from Hiroshige's witty abbreviated signs for different types of figures — an appropriate vocabulary for the disjointed experience of metropolitan Paris. The Japanese artist, however, did not have Monet's facility to use oil paint to suggest the crowd from which individual figures momentarily emerged. Monet would have seen contemporary photographs of Paris streets taken from high buildings, but these could not have given him the experience of the eye's active participation in the myriad visual moments of the modern city. He was less interested in the view than in his own visual sensations, high above an animated crowd in central Paris. Japanese prints helped him to embody these sensations.
Monet, Boulevard des Capucines, 1873 (Pushkin Museum)
There are two paintings of this view from the studio of the photographer, Nadar. This one shows that Monet used the Japanese mobile viewpoint to embody the fragmentary, yet dynamic modern experiences of space as the eye plunges into the deep channel of the crowded street, and seeks to disentangle the clues to the complex visual experiences given by a myriad detached brushstrokes. Fragmentation is also created by the double perspective thrust formed by the apartment blocks on the left and by the line of wintry trees and snow-topped cabs in the middle of the composition. This unusual off-centre perspective could owe something to another Hiroshige print in Monet's collection,Sudden shower over Ohashi Bridge and Atake, where the bridge, seen from above, cuts across the river in strong counterpoint to the tree-covered distant shore. The cool tone given by the rain drenching the pedestrians is similar to the icy atmosphere in the Boulevard des Capucines. Monet has also isolated his figures on the snow-covered pavements, but his brushstrokes fuse them into groups, just as a crowd melds the movements of many individuals.
Monet, Pont de l'Europe, 1877
Against the bright background, Monet represents the station's vast iron roof in copper and tan tones that stand out against The Gare Saint-Lazare, the Auteuil Line's low key palette, with its swirling blue, gray and purple background. The trains—here represented by no less than three locomotives and a large box car—are shown as both the source of the steam and distinct from it. However, in 1877, a number of critics were worried the smoke would completely engulf them. Gorges Maillard, writing in the conservative journal Le Pays, made just this point, describing the paintings as "the rails, lanterns, switchers, wagons, above all, always these flakes, these mists, clouds of white steam, are so thick they sometimes hide everything else."
Caillebotte, Woman at the Window, 1880
Caillebotte shared many of these impressionist concerns. His Interior,
Woman at the Window (fig. 2), for example, features a man and woman within
a compressed space, their physical proximity in sharp contrast to their emotional
distance. The man, seated in an armchair, is absorbed in his newspaper
while the woman stands before the window and gazes at the boulevard
below, equally consumed by her own thoughts. Across the street at the Hotel
Canterbury, another fgure, glimpsed through parted curtains, watches the
woman. It is a picture that suggests loneliness, isolation, and desire, but most
signifcantly, perhaps, it is about vision and looking, where an indeterminate
narrative of stolen glances and steady observation plays out across the Parisian