Matisse was part of the Fauvist movement – the “wild beasts” – a group of early 20th century artists
known for their brash use of
color and their emphasis on manipulation of paint as equal to, or more
important than, true representation of form. The main members were Matisse
himself and Andre Derain, whose vibrant portraits and landscapes are often comprised
of multiple brushstrokes of startling and counter-intuitive hue. (Andre Derain, "Charring Cross Bridge," 1906, pictured above)
The current Matisse exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of
Art reveals something utterly surprising about the master’s work: it is not so
much his use of color that gives the paintings their depth and vividness. In
actuality, the vast majority of his work comes alive the way it does because of
his distinctive and forceful use of black.
The exhibit is not your typical collection or retrospective
of work. Rather, what we have are various incarnations of the same painting or
subject hanging side by side. Typically, one or more of the pieces are painted
with a nod to other contemporary painters’ style: We see Matisse using
pointillism, for instance, in one of his depictions of the Gulf of Saint Tropez
(top), then switching over to a more impressionistic stroke in another painting
of the same scene (bottom). In the two
portraits of the Young Sailor, he first
painted with a more obvious, shorter brush stroke, then painted the next
version in the flatter, overall-paint style that became part of his signature.
According to the text of the exhibit, he didn’t necessarily consider these
painting studies or think of one being more finished than the other. He often
hung them side-by-side in exhibits, both as completed works. Apparently, people
found it interesting for a while, but sometime in the 1920’s, viewers got bored
with the repetition and Matisse fell out of favor.
All the while, though, he was honing his mature technique,
the flat swaths of saturated color juxtaposed with strong lines of texture and
pattern. Almost all of those lines are bold black strokes, so bold, in fact,
that they belie their simplicity and provide such vibrancy that the paintings
become much, much greater than the sum of their parts. Look closely, for
instance, at “Interior in Yellow and Blue.” Reduced to its components, it is
merely two flat planes of blue in opposing corners bisected by an equally flat
yellow. The objects – table, vase, chair, melons, lemons – are actually quite
vague and abstracted. It’s the elegant lines of the wrought iron chair and
table base; the squiggle on the melon rinds; the interlocking diamonds of the
vase; the weighty outline of the lemons; and the leafy pattern of the
background curtain that make the painting what it is. And yet, the lines are
all quite simple. The effect of the flat angular plains, rich color, and all
those black strokes give the paintings a deep dimentionality, an illusion of depth
and texture, a lush richness that breaths life into the scenes.
The show will hang at the Met until March 18, just a few more weeks. Get there if you can and rediscover a master.