Here we have works by two of the 20th century’s greatest artists, and as in their friendship (and rivalry), the works play off of one another, with perhaps Matisse’s dance being done to the music of Picasso’s guitar. Henri Matisse (1869-1954) is the most prominent of the adherents of a short-lived movement called Fauvism (c. 1903-1908). The word comes from the French, fauve, meaning wild beast. Now what was so wild about Fauvism? Well, just think back to the painting of the 19th century. Often it consisted of very well formulated representational work. Even the Impressionists did paintings where one could still see recognizable realistic images of people and landscapes. The Fauves did not adhere to that. They used colors that had no relationship to the objects they painted; their work often looked flat and without much dimension; and they painted the moods and emotions of the artist rather than an external image. Wild!
Woman with a Hat (Mme. Matisse 1905) came as quite a shock to the established ideas of what a painting was supposed to look like. Though Van Gogh and Gaugain had already started the process, Matisse took it to the next level. While the works of the Fauves set the Paris art world on its heels, there were some very smart American art collectors interested in this work, especially the work of Matisse. They were the Steins: Michael, Leo, and Gertrude.
It was Gertrude Stein who introduced Matisse, a conservative man born into a bourgeois family who were in the flower trade, to Pablo Picasso (1881-1973), a younger painter from Malaga, Spain, who was, in words written later by Françoise Gilot, “A foreigner, who benefited from a romantic aura that transformed his irrational and erratic declarations into seducing enigmas.” Matisse, who gathered other artists about him for intellectual discussions on art, was also known to keep his bourgeois distance from the more bohemian art set that went to the same café, Le Dome, in Montparnasse. He would sit in the café “…with a vague and distant look, lost in his thoughts, with a severe and distant demeanor: a real sphinx” (Gilot). Stein introduced the two artists to see what fireworks might happen.
Well, it can’t be said that there were never fireworks. Matisse was particularly upset when Picasso lured André Derain and Georges Braque away from the Fauves to a new movement of which Picasso was the leading adherent, Cubism. The Guitar shown above is an example of one of Picasso’s early cubist paintings. However, that did not stop Matisse from recommending that one of his collectors, Russian businessman Sergei Shchukin, look also at Picasso’s work. Shchukin over the years would come to purchase 50 works by Picasso, while continuing to collect Matisse as well.
Polar Opposites
From the way they spoke, Matisse’s speech being described as a precise, well-pronounced stream of words with the flow of an indolent river, and Picasso’s speech being a French that was far from “au courant” (up to speed or commonly understood), right down to the way they worked, the two artists were polar opposites. Matisse’s studio was filled with objects of interest that could be used in his paintings. Though he knew the structure of the female body well, he still used live models. As for Picasso, while he does have portraits of the women he loved and others like the young French model, Sylvette (see Picasso’s Muse Sylvette, youtube.com), most of his work came from images in his head. His chairs, guitars, pots, fruits, females, etc. were all from memory and imagination.
In looking at these two examples, it is clear to see how Matisse dealt with the female form to capture the mood of this woman, unconcious while she naps, surrounding her with lush colors, perhaps reminiscent of the flowers his family traded in. Picasso’s demoiselles, who perhaps not so oddly all look like him, are presented almost as specters of a somewhat demented dream. Their styles of painting differed as well. Matisse washed down the painting he had done at the end of the day, only to begin again the next day with a more refined version. Picasso simply overpainted his canvases until he arrived at what he finally wanted, leaving sometimes as many as thirty versions of the painting in layers underneath the final version. (Gilot)
Neither of the artists left France during World War II. Matisse moved about Nice, from near the sea on the Cours Saleya (in the yellow building at the far eastern end) to the pristine elegance of the Regina, an superb former hotel where Queen Victoria had stayed high up in the hills of Cimiez, and then to Vence. Picasso stayed self-sequestered in his studio in Paris, where he painted alone but in the socially distant company of several paintings by Matisse. Picasso, in fact, purchased at least 10 Matisse paintings during his lifetime. Matisse never purchased a Picasso, though the painters sometimes traded paintings.
When Matisse died, Picasso did a series of Odalisque paintings perhaps in tribute to his long-time friend (and friendly rival). Some say that Matisse, who was always generous to Picasso, was a type of father-figure. Picasso at times certainly acted like a rebellious son. Yet each knew to look seriously at the work of the other to contemplate and understand it. Even though criticisms would be made, it was a valuable dialogue between these greats who contributed so much to how we see art now. Both are, of course, now gone, so only their work remains to talk to us. However, as always, the river of art flows on, so we will see what comes up around the next bend.
Francoise Gilot’s wonderful book Matisse and Picasso, a Friendship in Art, was first published in the U.S. in 1990. She was the artist-companion of Picasso when he moved to the south of France and bore him two children. The version I have is in French, and the translations above are my own.
The art works discussed are in public domain in the U.S.
Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.comor her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.
A Tricky Grape named for Antibes but best known as Tibouren.
So where are we exactly when we talk about Côtes de Provence. Well, it is in southeastern France along the Mediterranean coast. It starts roughly near Marseilles and extends east through the Var and into the Maritime Alps. While the region produces both red and white wines, its speciality is rosé, in particular some of the palest pink wines anywhere.
However, a full-bodied rosé is produced there as well, and the grape that produces it bears a name that refers to the lovely seaside town I once lived in, Antibes. The grape is a dark grape with a black skin that may have originally come from the middle east via the Greeks who first settled the coast of Provence along what is now the French Riviera. They founded the cities of Marseille (Massilia), Nice (Nikea) and Antibes (Antipolis). The grape often called Tibouren is also known as Antibois, which means “from Antibes.” And as always there is a bit of local rivalry involved between Nice (Nikea, the larger city the Greeks founded) and its smaller counterpart across the Bay of Angels, Antibes (Antipolis, meaning the other city). This rivalry comes in the form of another name for wine made from this Antibois grape, which is Bianco di Nizza (White Wine of Nice).
Local rivalries aside, there is not a great quantity of this grape grown or wine produced because of certain difficulties caused by the local spring weather. Spring on the Côte d’Azur can be tricky, sometimes cold and rainy or the opposite, high out-of-season temperatures. This seasonal variance can cause the vines not to pollinate or to “shatter,” hence no grapes. (The French word for this misfortune is coulure.)
When things go well, the bunches may be irregular in shape with grapes ranging in color from dark purple to light pink. The wine has the taste of herbs and is quite aromatic, though rather dry. In terms of food pairings, well, my favorite is magret de canard a l’orange (duck breast with orange sauce) along with a salad of fresh greens with some asparagus tips sprinkled in and tossed with a bit of fresh squeezed lemon juice and olive oil. The salad is pretty easy, but for a good recipe for magret de canard a l’orange, I send you to Laura Tobin, at yourguardianchef.com. She is an Italian living in France, so you are sure to get the best of two great culinary traditions.
All I can do now is leave you a picture of my old “home town” in France (well, one of my old home towns in France but always my sentimental favorite). And when you go there, make sure to taste Tibouren or Antibois rosé. It will make you feel right at home.
While you may not be on your way to Antibes soon, there is another way to taste good wines. Try Cellars Wine Club’s International Wine Club. The selection comes from the best vintners; there is a “no bad bottle” return policy; and shipping is free. Click here cellarswineclub.com or go to the Cellars Wine Club page on the right side of this screen.
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©marjorie vernelle 2020
Coming soon on Of Art and Wine, The Great Vedutisti of Venice, and Pinot Grigio Venezia.
Now we take photos of Venice, but in the 18th century it was the painters who captured the unforgettable beauty of Venice. While Canaletto is the most famous, there were others who also became known as “vedutisti” or painters of Venetian scenes, like Francesco Guardi. Comparing the work of Canaletto, Guardi and the other vedusiti shows slightly different versions of the same city. Some views are more perfectly static and the others more granularly alive. How much of this was the city and how much was the artist’s temperament is fun to speculate upon.