Fragonard’s The Swing is perhaps a little too sugary-sweet for our taste, reminding us of the extravagance that defines the Rococo era of 18th century France. Looking beyond the layers of pink ruffle, however, reveals how this particular style fit in with social conventions characteristic of the time. Swinging was associated with play in the context of love and the elaborate game of courtship, and it gave new freedom to the meaning of flirting and frivolity within the strict social codes of conduct. The swing was a metaphor for the fickle nature of women, for example, and the shoe flying off the bare foot had obvious sexual connotations. The man looking up the woman’s skirt (getting a peek was part of the point) was none other than the patron who commissioned this painting, the Baron de Saint-Julien, or the Reciever-General of the French Clergy. The woman swinging is his mistress and the man pulling the swing is meant to be a bishop. Even though this would have hung in the Baron’s private petite-maison, or pleasure house, Fragonard toned down some of the more explicit details that the Baron had originally requested, such as the recognizability of the figures. There were, after all, limits to this French Clergyman a sense of humor.
More about The Swing

Bonnard’s France-Champagne was his first poster that kicked off his career as an artist and his involvement in the graphic arts during the 1890’s. He received 100 francs for his work, convincing him to quit his career aspirations as a lawyer and concentrate on being an artist. Japanese prints were undoubtedly an inspiration, but, more than that, he came up with a unique style that complemented the emergence of large-scale advertising and avante-garde climate of art world. He even introduced Toulouse-Lautrec to his printer, and Lautrec went on to develop a successful lithographic style that is rooted in Bonnard’s aesthetic.

Gustave Caillebotte’s Young Man at His Window features the back view of his brother, René, as he overlooks the street from the family apartment on rue de Miromesnil. Caillebotte was reasonably wealthy, as his address suggests, and pursued other interests such as gardening and yachting during and after his painting career. Even though he was an integral member of the Impressionists and mingled with some of the most prominent artists of the time, his work stands out from the rest. He did not experiment with loose brushstrokes, but innovated through cut-off compositions and unusual viewpoints, creating a mysterious and subtle atmosphere for the Parisian flaneur.

At first glance, Giacomo Balla’s Girl on a Balcony looks like an assemblage of colorful fragments, but, in fact, represents a human figure in motion across the canvas. Balla was a member of the Futurists, a short-lived, Italian movement that sought to depict the “invisible, impalpable, imponderable, imperceptible,” as stated in their 1915 manifesto. Their efforts to produce an entirely modern aesthetic lead them to deconstruct form in a way that expressed motion and speed in the purest sense.

More about Giacomo Balla

Arkhip Kuindzhi’s moonlit pools of light, intense sunsets, and forests at high noon marked a significant break from the Russian Realist school, which was conservative by most modern standards and was seeped in literary thought and ideology. Kuindzi’s work is, therefore, more compatible with other Western movements, because his landscapes explore aspects of painting that were not tied to any social or political commentary. However, unlike his contemporaries the Impressionists, he depicts light with finite brushstrokes and treats it as a concrete entity. The contrasts of light and shadow speak for themselves and become as palpable as the surrounding mountains or still waters.

Constable’s Edge of a Heath by Moonlight doesn’t use the same meticulous brushstrokes he applied to his signature views of the English countryside, but captures the indistinct forms of moonlit haze. Throughout his career, he sought to portray atmosphere in its purest form through an almost scientific precision in regard to technique and observation. Nonetheless, there is that certain quality to his work that transcends representation, as he himself comments that “my limited and abstracted art is to be found under every hedge, and in every lane, and therefore nobody thinks it worth picking up.”

Now I know how deep
are the colors of your goodwill
and of the blossoms
that one so desired
in the lingering snow.

— Socho

Michael Kenna describes Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island, as “cold, expansive, solitary, white, graphic,” and his photographs embody these qualities in the distinct silhouettes, efficient compositions, and selection of tones. He creates a dialogue between positive and negative space, where barren trees give life to white surroundings and objects become landscapes within themselves. It is rare to see photographers trust their subjects by humbly devoting their vision solely to what they see, and Kenna always describes his process in palpable terms. His outlines capture the immediate experience of standing in this black and white world, as we, too, observe quietly.

Site to visit: www.michaelkenna.net

Although Corot has been hailed as the father and inspiration for the Impressionists, he never wanted to impress the viewer by shocking shades of color. Instead, he sought to produce a “harmony of the tones” that made up an overall atmosphere, which had its roots in the landscape schools of the past. Perhaps his style is too bucolic and old-fashioned from a modern perspective, but his best work includes the subtle play of earthy tones and dream-like touches of light that were hailed as timeless by later generations.
More about Corot’s landscapes: query.nytimes.com

Kawase Hasui’s Starry Night at Miyajima follows the shin hanga movement of the 19th century, which sought to continue the ukiyo-e printmaking tradition that flourished during Edo period Japan. Hasui’s style is more intimate that his predecessors, as his compositions are more focused, there few figures in his prints, and he explores light and atmosphere. In that sense, the shin hanga style brings with it a subtle acknowledgment of the popularity and Western fascination with the original Japanese printmaking movement.
More about Kawase Hasui: www.viewingjapaneseprints.net

After the overwhelming success of his first poster for the Parisian actress Sarah Bernhardt, Mucha produced countless prints, paintings, and posters that elaborated on the style that later became known as Art Nouveau. The ornamental patterns and distinct silhouettes were perfect for advertising, while the fluid lines drew a massive following. The commercial and decorative nature of most of his art makes it less rooted in any specific association, as it becomes more a part of popularized iconography.

“I am still cohabiting with your mysterious and alluring canvas.

— Matisse in a letter to Bonnard

Bonnard’s Woman in a Checked Dress is a study for one of four panels that were displayed at the 1890 Salon des Independants. That same year, he had attended an exhibition of Japanese woodblock prints at the École des Beaux-Arts and was collecting decorative papers from Japan. The patterns on these papers, used as cheap wrappers for imported Asian novelties, and the visual elements of ukiyo-e prints inspired him to consider the expressive qualities of color. The series Women in a Garden applies the flat planes of color, verticality, and cut-off compositions to a European woman in a garden at Le Grand-Lemps.
An illustrated essay about the Japanese influence on Bonnard:
http://blogs.princeton.edu/writingart1/

The Red-Checkered Tablecloth was painted the year he moved to the south of France, where he could indulge his love of color in the luscious atmosphere. He depicted ordinary domestic settings and landscapes through his own perspective and sense of light.

His unorthodox method of working included tacking various, unstretched pieces of canvas on the wall as he worked on several of them at a time.

Bonnard and Matisse exchanged a letter correspondence throughout their careers, especially when they were both no longer in Paris. They had mutual respect for each other and exchanged current thoughts on art amidst remarks about their health and the gorgeous weather.

“Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

— T.S. Eliot

It’s not necessarily Sunday in Hopper’s Early Sunday Morning, as the distinction was made by someone else after the painting was made. There is no lonely worker to identify with and no specific skyline to recognize, so where is that most obvious association that we can take with us to recall later? Perhaps the painting’s most compelling quality is that our own desperate search for a metaphor or acknowledged thing of beauty yields no results, and yet we still think of that one street in our neighborhood that makes our morning route ordinary.

Sunrise (Marine) was one of Monet’s first experiments with loose brushstrokes and fleeting reflections of light. He grew up in the industrial port of Le Havre, and returned there at the start of his career when plein air and dabs of color were still considered “insane” by most critics.

On the other hand, Cézanne’s Woman with a Coffee Pot exemplifies his efforts to move away from Impressionism and develop a geometric way of treating his subjects. The plain cup, wall pattern, and rigid dress of the sitter all seem to be made from the same detached quality that separates them from their physical associations.

Lautrec’s posters appeared in the streets, periodicals, and hands of private collectors, as French city life sought to satisfy its craving for entertainment and excitement. His Moulin Rouge - La Goulue advertises the popular dance hall and cabaret, which was constantly pushing the envelope for risqué behavior. There were no formalities or established rules of etiquette, as people could pass through at their leisure and enjoy all of the food and drink available. The dancer featured in the poster, La Goulue, was the most scandalous performer at the time, and her presence marks the first time a celebrity was used in an advertisement for promoting an entertainment spot. These large posters were displayed outside, and the tax stamp that was needed to authorize their existence proves that the business of advertising was competitive and encouraged visual originality.

Lautrec was one of the first artists to explore the visual possibilities of printmaking, and he gave his posters a style that was free from the restrictions of representation found in other areas of art. He used the commercial aspect of advertising to his advantage to produce works that would capture the attention of the ordinary passerby. An interesting and unexpected combination of colors and forms was enough to signify success, and this notion was certainly supported by the business that developed around these posters. Confetti is one of Lautrec’s most creative works, and, unlike the Moulin Rouge where he writes his full signature, it features the initials HTL as one mark, no doubt influenced by the seals found on Japanese woodblock prints.

Jane Avril was another well-known performer and spectator, and Divan Japonais features her alongside the critic Edouard Dujardin in an Asian-inspired cabaret. In all of his works, Lautrec was influenced by the flat space and compositions of Japanese woodblock prints, and here he includes Dujardin as a writer who commented on Japanese art. In fact, many famous painters, writers, and thinkers of the time were mingling in these cafe-concert settings.

Le Deuxième Volume de Bruant features the prominent singer and nightclub owner Aristide Bruant. Evidently, he was such a distinct persona that a simple back view was enough for people to recognize him. He made a successful business out of bringing the latest and most provocative street culture to his club, and appealing to every kind of taste. Among other amusing customs, he was joined by a chorus to welcome every woman into his club with “O, how pale she is.”