Morisot & Modern Life

In the nineteenth-century, it was unusual for a woman to have a successful artistic career, but Berthe Morisot (1841-1895) was fortunate in having the support of her wealthy bourgeoise family, who had encouraged her from a young age.  Through the Morisot social circle, she became friends with Edouard Manet (and his brother Eugène, whom she married) and got to know his followers, the group of artists who became known as the Impressionists.  This gave her the opportunity to engage with artistic debates of the day, such as how artists might respond to modern life.  In the mid nineteenth century, Paris had undergone a physical transformation with new boulevards, public buildings, cafés and bars, that drew crowds and created a visual spectacle of interest to artists.  Whilst her fellow male artists could engage directly and easily with urban life, Morisot, ‘[h]eavily chaperoned, corseted and formally dressed, […] could not become the unobtrusive observer/participator of the pageant of modern life…’^[1]Adler & Garb, 1987, p.80  This led to her finding a different way of representing the new modern era.

Baudelaire’s vision of modern life

Morisot and her contemporaries were influenced by the ideas of Charles Baudelaire (1821-67), a poet, writer and critic with a theory about the modern era and how artists should respond.  Writing in 1846 he said that artists should stop representing the past and idealising the classical world.  They should also stop creating traditional representations of lofty or heroic subject matter considered acceptable by the establishment.  Rather they should look around them and see that modern life is a worthy subject, full of interesting individuals who are the everyday heroes.

‘The pageant of fashionable life and the thousands of floating existences – criminals and kept women – which drift about in the underworld of a great city; [..] we have only to open our eyes to recognise our heroism.

The life of our city is rich in poetic and marvellous subjects.  We are enveloped and steeped as though in an atmosphere of the marvellous; but we do not notice it.’^[2]Baudelaire, from The Salon, [1846] in Lymberopoulou, et al. (2012), p.249

Baudelaire believed that modern life was characterised by its transitory condition: ‘By ‘modernity’ I mean the ephemeral, the fugitive, the contingent…’^[3]Baudelaire, from ‘The Painter of Modern Life’, [c.1850] in Lymberopoulou, et al. (2012), p.250 and that every age has unique elements: ‘every age has its own gait, glance and gesture.’^[4]Baudelaire, from ‘The Painter of Modern Life’, [c.1850] in Lymberopoulou, et al. (2012), p.250 He is describing life as a state of transition, a passing moment in time, full of people who encapsulate this moment and they and the world around them are what artists should paint.  Manet was the first to respond to this idea and in turn influenced the Impressionists.

The Impressionists’ response to modern life

From the 1860’s, artists including Morisot began to develop a correlation between modern subject matter and modern representation.  Their subject matter included people in urban public spaces, for example Renoir’s Dancing at the Moulin de la Galette (1875) and Degas’ L’Absinthe (c.1875-76), as well as people in landscapes, such as Monet’s Poppies (1873).  In addition, bourgeois family life as experienced within the private sphere of the home was also represented.  The Impressionists ‘legitimized the subject-matter of domestic social life,’^[5]Chadwick, 2012, p.232 thus elevating the once disparaged category of genre painting.  As well as the modernity of the subject, the Impressionists’ utilised a radical painting technique which featured bold compositions, observation of light effects and a sketchiness of handling.  The result were fragmented impressions of everyday life.

Motherhood

Morisot focussed on women conducting their lives in the home, in parks and in gardens.  Much of her work concerns motherhood, but she interrupts the traditional mother and child narrative with unidealized and unsentimental images.

The Artist’s Sister at a Window, (1869) (Fig. 1) is a portrait of Morisot’s sister Edma who is pregnant and has returned to her parent’s home for her confinement.  She appears lost in thought as she absentmindedly plays with her fan.  The presence of the fan along with her proximity to the open window suggests she is hot and needs air, indeed the view across the street of people on sun filled balconies suggests a sunny day. The room is sparsely furnished and dominated by Edma’s expansive white dress.  The painting conveys the nature of confinement, the sense of endless days in the home with nothing to do and of isolation from the outside world.  Yet she basks in the light flooding in from the window, which illuminates her face and her dress and which dissipates any sense of pathos.  The light is significant, Morisot was interested in peinture claire which means expressing light by a predominantly pale and luminous tonality. This was very different from the chiaroscuro effect that defined traditional painting.  Morisot has used minimal tonal modelling, preferring warm and bright colour to create space and forms. It is a simple, non-judgemental image that captures a moment in a woman’s life.

One of Morisot’s best-known paintings is The Cradle, (1872) (Fig. 2) which represents early motherhood and features Edma with her daughter, Blanche.  It goes further than the earlier work in terms of innovative composition and technique.  She portrays a maternal scene in a sparse and unsentimental way.  The close cropping and shallow perspective help create a feeling of intimacy, but this is slightly displaced by the minimal narrative and the meditative posture of the woman, creating a less coherent scene.  This ambiguity is heightened by the innovative application of colour which is particularly evident in the crib curtain.  Here Morisot completely rejects traditional tonal modelling, instead alternating thick impasto paint with semi-transparent washes to create a veil through which the baby’s features are rendered with mere dabs of colour.   Through an alteration of technique, Morisot has transformed the meaning of a traditional domestic scene from being potentially emotionally and morally charged into an objective impression of modern life.

Woman and Child in a Garden, (1884) (Fig. 3) depicts Morisot’s daughter Julie with her nurse and is a reminder that in a bourgeoise household there would be many women supporting the lady of the household, who would delegate tasks, including childcare. The painting is bolder in every sense.  The composition is unusual in that a tree cuts through the center to physically divide the figures.  It severs the woman and child connection, perhaps metaphorically reinforcing their different status within the family, but mostly it heightens a sense that they are both lost in their own worlds.  The technique is even more radical, with brushwork so loose the ground colour shows through and is left completely exposed around the edges.  Morisot uses colour and light to define the space.  The foreground is darker with the nurse in dappled shade, while the water and toy boat are highlighted as is the grass and tree trunks on the far side.  When you stand back and look from a distance, the image becomes more coherent.  The painting shows a further transformation of the woman and child motif, one which reflects the everyday experience of caring for children.  The sketch like quality suggests that rather than a timeless image, it represents a transitory moment.

Women at their toilette

The private daily rituals of women, such as combing their hair, dressing or bathing had always been popular subjects for artists and remained so in the late nineteenth-century.  Often women were portrayed with a mirror, a trope which has its origins in Classical mythology, but also perpetuated an idea that associated women with vanity. Woman at her Toilette,(1870-1880) (Fig. 4) is an understated painting on this theme.  In a sparse setting, a woman tends her hair – perhaps inserting or removing a pin.  On a small table are a few accoutrements, including a powder puff, a jar and a corsage.  Her dress is simple, embellished with a single blue ribbon that has been executed with the greatest economy (but does not reflect a typical 1870’s evening dress which would have been very elaborate).  However, her status and elegance are evident in the glistening satin fabric of her dress and the glint of her earring.

Yet it is a puzzling image.  Parts of the woman’s skirt, elbow and face appear to be dissolving into the background, which has similar colours, tones and brushwork.  The composition has pushed her to one side, leaving almost half the canvas as background. Her face is unseen, not even in the mirror, so we are unaware of her expression and her attitude.  I think that the flattened space and tight composition reinforce the idea of privacy, that it is her space.  (She is not a courtesan who receives male visitors.)  The loose brushwork conveys vitality and movement, suggesting she is busy getting on with the job of dressing rather than displaying herself for approval.

Psyche, (1876) (Fig. 5) also features a mirror, a large Cheval mirror known in France as a psyche.  A young woman looks at her reflection while she pulls her chemise tight around her waist to emulate a corseted body.  It is a private moment of self-awareness, reflecting a key stage in a young woman’s life as she transitions from girl to woman. However, this painting is all about light.  The figure is lit from two windows either side from which the light bursts through, its luminosity reflected from a multitude of white surfaces.  Yet rather than an expanse of flat white, the surfaces and textures shimmer with colour.  The light also models the woman’s shoulder and head, creating structure and highlighting her youthfulness.  Morisot’s characteristic loose brushstrokes help convey the immediacy of the image.

These paintings are problematic for some, who think they reinforce stereotypical female representation.  Firstly, as sexual objects of male desire, in how the image of a woman in a state of semi-undress ‘is in keeping with contemporary constructions of womanhood’.^[6]Adler & Garb, 1987, p.93 Secondly, these kind of images ‘perpetuate notions of vanity as “natural” to women’^[7]Chadwick, 2012, p.241 after all, there are no similar representations of men dressing or grooming themselves.  These critics appear to think that Morisot should know better:

‘Paradoxically, what Morisot, the committed painter, presents in these paintings is an image of femininity which is entirely in keeping with the prescriptions for women of her time.’^[8]Adler & Garb, 1987, p.97

Why the paradox?  Attending to her appearance was an important part of a woman’s daily life and as such, surely contributes to Morisot’s overriding domestic theme?  The resulting images are in keeping with her approach to all her works, one that reflects the detached observer of transient moments.

Painting modern women

The Cradle was one of nine works Morisot exhibited at the first independent exhibition of 1874, that she and her fellow artists organised.  Her work prompted a variety of comments.  One critic noted ‘… she eliminates cumbersome epithets and heavy adverbs in her terse sentence.  Everything is subject and verb.’^[9]Adler & Garb, 1987, p.57 Another said her work showed ‘…a few scanty traces to create complete, disquieting evocations’.^[10]Adler & Garb, 1987, p.57 I think these are interesting comments that help to illustrate her approach.  She presents simple images of women going about their business.  Eschewing the need to add further narrative, she nevertheless creates an atmosphere that engages and intrigues the viewer.  Crucially, she disassociates modern nineteenth-century women from the Classical ideal and shows them as they are.  In this respect she is without doubt, a painter of modern life.

Bibliography

Adler, K. & Garb, T., (1987) Berthe Morisot, London, Phaidon Press Limited.

Chadwick, W., (2012) Women, Art, and Society, 5^th edition, London, Thames & Hudson.

Lymberopoulou, A., Bracewell-Homer, P. and Robinson, J. (eds.) (2012) Art and Visual Culture: A Reader, London, Tate Publishing/Milton Keynes, The Open University, pp. 248 – 251.