Real art

This painting had me hovering for ages yesterday at the European Masters exhibition currently showing at Te Papa. The chance to see an original Renoir and NOT under glass was quite special. This reproduction sadly does nothing for it. But the reason why students need to copy the masters on-the-spot was brought home to me forcibly. Without seeing the relief, the brushwork, the actual colours (allowing for fading over time of course) one hasn't a hope in hell of understanding or emulating his techniques, of which there were very many. Possibly too many over his prodigious career.

The elements of the painting - the glassware and china teacups - are so beautifully crafted with bright colours that aren't apparent in this photo. The luminous nature of fabrics is hard to believe when so much white is used. The building up of the highlights is utterly precise. But the whooshing of background washes, and the feathering of hard edges creates an atmosphere hard to describe and I would imagine, almost impossible to imitate.

His paintings are truly inspirational for me. They provide new ideas about colour. For instance since getting more immersed in pastel I have been using violet or purple increasingly. It's a very useful colour for expressing dark or shadow because it isn't cold and brown/black is sometimes quite unpleasant - at least to my eye. So I was fascinated to see, in the only other Renoir in the exhibition, the beginnings were seemingly a warm purple grounding or wash. That is the entire canvas is pre-coated in that shade or variations of it.



Seeing this first-hand I was able to discern or guess that the blouse was initially painted over a already depicted form. The stripes would have been laid down quite carefully. But then, while the paint is still wet, a feathering brush dragged very lightly and rhythmically over the area to create the mistiness that reads so well. Like putting a soft focus on a photographic subject. Whether I am right doesn't matter. It's the idea that matters. I had forgotten how useful a skill it can be, especially with flower and landscapes.

Then there was the inevitable dross which I will not even describe. Wouldn't even look at. Yes I am narrow-minded when it comes to art. Why give pretentious daubs any attention at all?

Even Renoir's paintings, I think, declined as he aged (generalising). Boredom seeps in. There is a parallel in composing too. Often the greatest work of composers - of all genres - is created within a certain time frame. The discovery period. Probably the same happens in personal relationships too. That's why they need work. But art shouldn't be work.

It can take a certain amount of rationalisation or compromise but the more it requires, the less it is by definition 'art'.

Interestingly Renoir had a number of mistresses so his romances obviously grew stale. He would gift a portrait to them on parting. His portraits of his lovers were, shall we say, somewhat generous. Larger breasts, softer eyes, taller statures. But he was never a tortured soul. There was no great angst, no tragedy, no twisted psyche. He painted beauty. Or, perhaps more correctly, he created beauty. Which is what art should be in my book. There is enough ugliness in the world. I don't need art to remind me of it.