Showing posts with label color. Show all posts
Showing posts with label color. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Indigo: Part 1

Indigo democratized blue.  My obsessions with indigo in textiles and the history of indigo in global trade have at last materialized into an argument of sorts, with an aim to look at blue clothing in French rural painting.

 "....indigo crossed class lines ... becoming the color of sailors and workers. With Napoleon it became the color of war. After the soldiers came the police pretty much the world over, and then, in one mighty crossover, indigo went from being the color of uniforms to becoming, in addition, the uniform of the anti- uniform "casual wear;' the jeans worn today by most of the people most of the time the world over, rich or poor."
   Michael Taussig "Redeeming Indigo"


Blue workers' smocks in paintings by Van Gogh (1888) and Cézanne (1896).

In these two paintings, the blue workers' smocks are crucial agents in making visual and material contrasts. Van Gogh lovingly paints the old peasant Patience Escalier, a man of the earth of Provence, his hands every bit as worn from sun and work as his wrinkled face. The blue of his smock vibrates against  the orange background, burning hot with the southern sun.  Cézanne paints a worker's blue blouse up against an 18th century screen-- an aristocratic, exclusive blue tapestry.  In this collage of blues is a pastoral fantasy of nature right behind a man whose presence speaks of the truly physical nature of work outside.


Peasant Smock dyed blue with indigo.


Before the late-nineteenth century invention of analine dyes, indigo was the best and truest blue. Production of indigo (formerly an expensive import from India) took off in French colonies in the 18th century, making this deep blue widely accessible. Although the term "blue collar" to denote manual labor seems to have arisen only in the 1920s,  the long association of blue with work has held -- from the French bleu de travail to American denim-- indigo was the blue of labor.


Georges Seurat, Little Peasant in Blue, 1882



Léon Fréderic, The Chalk Sellers, 1882–1883, detail



Norman Shepherd's Smock, 1950s,
 Linen and Cotton (source: ebay)












Manet, Café Corner, 1878, Bleu de Travail jacket, France, 1940s.

In the realist vocabulary which underwrites many of Cézanne and Van Gogh's images of rural life, blue materializes peasant form. Jean-François Millet's Sower, a revolutionary image of the French peasant, powerfully enfranchised in the wake of the 1848 revolution (which gave all male citizens the vote) strides across a plowed field, casting his seed widely. The indigo of his trousers and the red of his smock allegorize the French nation in the form of its rural people. 


Millet, The Sower, 1850, Boston mfa

Millet's friend and biographer Alfred Sensier described it thus: "a young fellow of a wild aspect, dressed in a red shirt and blue breeches, his legs wrapped in wisps of straw, and his hat torn by the weather. "


Millet, Grafting a Tree, 1855

Images of the land-owning farmer also depicted peasant clothing in primary colors, especially red and blue.  Critic Pierre Petroz noted of Peasant Grafting a Tree: "His pants are of a dull blue; although his knees have made a mark in them, there are few creases, as the fabric is thick and coarse. He wears wooden clogs. His stance, with one foot forward, gives his body stability, and permits his arms freedom of movement."

Son pantalon est d’un bleu terne; quoique la place des genoux y soit marquée, il fait peu de plis, comme toutes les étouffes épaisses et grossières; il est chaussé de sabots. Une jambe portée en avant donne au corps une assiette plus sûre, qui permet aux bras une plus complète liberté de mouvement.  


 Peasant costume is serviceable, coarse and lumpy as Petroz notes. The woman in Millet's painting, who holds the infant and watches the graft being made wears a long blue skirt, visible below the bulky blanket or shawl that wraps her middle.

 Millet did not dress peasants as if they were Grecian goddesses as did his academic naturalist peers and followers. As an amateur ethnographer of the rural present, he collected common items of peasant costume,  as Julia Cartwright described: "in one corner of the room lay a whole heap of blouses and aprons of every shade of blue — some of the deepest indigo, others bleached almost white from constant exposure to sun and air. Here, too, were handkerchiefs for the head — marmottes as they were called in Millet’s old home — cloaks and skirts of faded hues, more beautiful in his eyes than the richest stuffs."


Millet, Study for Woman Baking Bread, c. 1853


Millet's drawings, often preferred today to his finished paintings, show intense observation and attention to the material and character of clothing: the fall of an apron, for instance,  in this sketch for the painting Woman Baking Bread.


It was material detail that engaged with the real. Clothing spoke volumes:  a carefully mended, sun-faded blue dress, the hang of hard-worn pants —clothing that was as common and used up by rural labor as the bodies that had made it so.
Woman Baking Bread





The photography of the Geniaux brothers in Brittany c. 1900 likewise was interested in describing mended & repaired work clothing because of the ways it spoke of authentic labor.













Millet had a taste for the aesthetic of the worn and mended.   Peasant mending of busted work clothing- from necessity alone- finds recent emulation in faux- tattered designer denim that pretend to Japanese Sashiko stitching.






Millet, The Gleaners, detail.


The Goncourts Brothers remarked in 1862 upon the way that Millet integrated peasant clothing to their forms and labor:

[i]t is prodigious the way Millet has caught the outline of the peasant woman, the woman of hard work and weariness, leaning over the ground and picking up clods of earth! He has made a rounded design, making the body into a bundle, with none of the provocative lines of the flesh of a woman; a body which poverty and toil have flattened out as if with a roller; a body which seems when it moves to be toil and weariness in motion; no hips, no breasts, a worker in a sheath, the color of which seems to come from the two elements in which she lives, brown of the earth, blue of the sky.
                                                          


Millet, Man with a Spade, 1855-58.

















Pissarro, Shepherd and Women Washing Clothes at Montfoucault, 1881


Pissarro, Peasants in the Fields, Eragny, 1890, detail
Gustave Geffroy, an early supporter of Impressionism who was versed in scientific theories of color in 1892 described the art of Camille Pissarro as having taken the "closest look at the peasant since Millet" yet that created "a totally different conception of the peasant from Millet, an intimate sense of rural life, a clarified vision of local truths, of the uniqueness of its charms, of the color of clothing worn there. It is a fine roughness, a calm malice.

In the work of this artist, enamored by bright light, by the extreme heat of the afternoon (that past criticism treated as the violent work of a madman) comes the delicate sensibility of one who knows and expresses-- in a language of nuances-- the charm of rustic life."


...le regard le plus attentif fixé sur les paysans depuis Millet, et une conception toute differente de celle de Millet, un sens intime de la vie rurale, une vision nette de la vérité locale, de la particularité des allures, de la couleur des vêtements. C’est d’une fine rudesse, d’une malice tranquille. Chez l’artiste épris des vives lumières, des fortes chaleurs des après-midi, et que la critique d’hier a parfois traité en violent et en énergumène, il y a un délicat qui sait et qui exprime en un langage de nuances, le charme de la vie rustique.



Sensitivity to the wearing of blue clothing tells this story.

As in the image of Patience Escalier, Vincent Van Gogh painted peasant workers in blue. He wrote extensively of his specific color choices, often mapping out his paintings in letters to fellow artists.

                                                                                
 Vincent van Gogh, letter to Émile Bernard, Arles, 19 June 1888, Letter 7, page 1


"Large field with clods of plowed earth, mostly downright violet.

"Field of ripe wheat in a yellow ocher tone with a little crimson.

"The chrome yellow 1 sky almost as bright as the sun itself, which is chrome yellow 1 with a little white, while the rest of the sky is chrome yellow 1 and 2 mixed, very yellow, then.

"The sower's smock is blue, and his trousers white. Square no. 25 canvas. There are many repetitions of yellow in the earth, neutral tones, resulting from the mixing of violet with yellow, but I could hardly give a damn about the veracity of the color. Better to make naive almanac pictures—old country almanacs, where hail, snow, rain, fine weather are represented in an utterly primitive way. The way Anquetin got his Harvest so well.

Van Gogh, Peasant Plowing with Peasant Woman, 1884
Van Gogh, Peasant Binding Sheaves, 1889


Years earlier, in 1885, he had mused on his understanding of the "naturalness" of this color in peasant clothing:

I am ... looking for blue all the time. Here the peasant's figures are as a rule blue. That blue in the ripe corn or against the withered leaves of a beech hedge - so that the faded shades of darker and lighter blue are emphasized and made to speak by contrast with the golden tones of reddish-brown - is very beautiful and has struck me here from the very first. The people here instinctively wear the most beautiful blue that I have ever seen.

It is coarse linen which they weave themselves, warp black, woof blue, the result of which is a black and blue striped pattern. When this fades and becomes somewhat discoloured by wind and weather, it is an infinitely quiet, delicate tone that particularly brings out the flesh colours.

Well, blue enough to react to all colours in which hidden orange elements are to be found, and discoloured enough not to jar.


Just like the blue/orange pallette of Patience Escalier, Van Gogh, when copying from Millet's prints of seasonal labors in the asylum at St.-Rémi (1889-90), re-painted his working peasants in blue.



Millet/ Van Gogh, Noonday Rest.

This blue/orange contrast of opposite pits the coolness of indigo against the sun burnt thatch of plants that were once green. A cooked and dried agriculture. The working body is coloristically the landscape's other.




film stills from Hugo.


Incidentally, Martin Scorcese's recent film Hugo uses just this color contrast (as a smart friend mentioned to me). Blue nostalgia.


More on indigo.




Saturday, September 14, 2013

Painting Garlic



Diego Velasquez, Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, 1618, London
It's mid September. An email came today that it is time to order seed garlic.  Where I live on  Cape Cod, garlic gets planted in October, grows all winter, and is harvested in July.  It's a wondrous thing to see things poking up out of the frozen earth when all else is dead.  Taking a break from some work, I stared at a patch of ground that I will make into a new bed for leeks and garlic.  Then I came back inside and thought about paintings of garlic.

This post comes back around to Brittany by the end, as thinking about garlic reminded me of my visit to Le Pouldu in June, with Caroline Boyle Turner.


Garlic is such humble fare. Velasquez puts it in the foreground of this painting to emphasize the humility and ordinariness of the kitchen scene.  Garlic, eggs and fish form the foreground here of Spanish Baroque naturalism.

 Velasquez, Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, detail.


A brief but informative article from the NIH, on the historical and medical uses of garlic, it is explained that the plant originated in Central Asia, but was in wide use throughout Europe two thousand years ago.  The Ancient Egyptians, Chinese, Babylonians, Greeks and many others had many uses for garlic (and its antibacterial effects), particularly for the prevention of stomach infections.  It was fed to workers and slaves to make them stronger.


" You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much on the voice of occupation and the breath of garlic-eaters!"           --Coriolanus



The Romans spread the plant all over the Empire and it was planted in many monasteries' gardens. Botanical texts attest to its medical uses as "the penicillin of the poor." 






Bourdichon Hours, 15th century
After reading a smattering of articles and anecdotes about the history of garlic in European cooking, it seems fair to say that it was a staple ingredient of Spanish and Portuguese food, but that it may have only slowly crept north and was only very recently accepted in British kitchens.

Garlic, like onions, was staple peasant fare that was thought to strengthen the constitution and ward off pestilence.

Harvesting garlic, Tacuinum sanitatis, 15th century.  BN Paris.

Sixteenth-century French barber-surgeon to several kings, Ambroise Paré wrote that "rustics and workmen  will be able to eat a few cloves of garlic or shallots with bread and butter and good wine if they can provide it, to charm the bad vapors (les brouées)  then will go to the work that God calls them to." Garlic apparently, warded off the bad vapors, but also gave underclasses a particular pong:

  "he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown bread and garlic."
                                                                                                                 --Measure for Measure
Joachim Beuckelaer, Vegetable Vendor, later 16h century. Valenciennes.

Garlic is a common vegetable in 16th century market scenes and still life paintings (especially in conjunction with fish).


 
Baltazar Gomes Figuera, Still Life with Fish, mid to late 17th cent. Paris, Louvre


Vincent Van Gogh was well aware of the Dutch Still life tradition, especially after his experiences working as an art dealer and copying prints that he admired. During his time in Paris, he produced this grimy little painting of Fish and garlic. Unlike the plump, shiny surfaces of the seventeenth century still lives, or even the humble string of fish from Chardin's later Fast Day Menu, these fish appear dessicated, leathery, so far from the sea that they will make a very ascetic meal, only relieved by a clove of garlic on a chunk of bread.  Bohemian lunch in the studio.
Van Gogh, Still Life with Bloaters (Herring), 1887




Chardin, Fast Day Menu, Paris, Louvre.


Garlic appears in a  late painting by Chardin, Glass of Water and Coffeepot.  In spite of its ascetic spareness, it was admired by the Goncourt brothers who praised it as "a marvel, this little picture, in which the insignificance of the composition sets off to best advantage the artistic wisdom of the best still-life painter of all the schools." 






Chardin, Glass of Water and Coffeepot, c. 1761.


Romantic and realist painters Boudin and Jacques include heads of garlic in their rustic rural still lives that again speak of the simple life, close to the earth-- the unpretentious meal-- perhaps of the artist-- that emulates peasant life.


Eugene Boudin, Still Life with a Pumpkin.  Le Havre.
Charles Jacques, Still Life.  mid to late 19th cent, Rouen.

From Edouard Manet's early years comes a fragmentary still life painting of garlic, originally part of a much larger composition, The Gypsies (1862) that the artist cut in three in 1867.

Manet, Still Life with Bag and Garlic, c. 1862, Louvre Abu Dhabi


The print of this image retains the original composition-- there are no known photographs of the painting. The garlic and rough jute bag were in the lower right corner of the painting, lying on the ground.  The two heads of garlic plainly sit there, having rolled out of the bag or perhaps dinner will happen very plainly here, with only the simplest of ingredients.  Garlic again is paired with the lowest of social class, the much repressed, feared and romanticized figure of the gypsy.  Like Van Gogh's later painting, garlic is part of the "bohemian" palette.

When the painting was displayed in 1863 and 1867, critics immediately spotted the "Spanishness" of the composition and related it to Velasquez.


The Gypsy.
 Manet's garlic painting was acquired by the Louvre Abu Dhabi in 2009, where it is displayed along with another fragment of the original painting, The Gypsy. The Boy with a Jug, the third fragment, is in Chicago.




The Boy with a Jug

Meijer de Haan, working with Paul Gauguin in Brittany at Le Pouldu in 1889, painted a still life with garlic and a pewter pot.



Two paintings by Edouard Manet, The Bohemian and Still Life with Bag and Garlic (1861-62), which were cut from their original canvas by Manet himself and had long been separated, have now been reunited at the Louvre Abu Dhabi. They are seen with the engraving Les Gitanos (1862, Paris, Biblithèque nationale de France, department des estampes et de la photographie), which shows the artist’s original composition. Paul Cézanne’s highly abstract Rocks Near the Caves Above Château Noir (1904, Paris, Musée d’Orsay) is one of the artist’s late works that had a deep impact on the avant-garde of the early 20th century. Its visual synthesis of forms and colours, blended to capture the essence of a landscape, was one of the paths that Piet Mondrian meditated upon to create his pure abstraction, whose quintessence can be found in his Composition with Blue, Red, Yellow and Black (1922).

More Information: http://artdaily.com/news/31077/Talking-Art-Louvre-Abu-Dhabi-Features-the-Museum-s-First-Acquisitions#.UjNOqLzlXEg[/url]
Copyright © artdaily.org
Meijer de Haan, Still Life with Garlic and Pewter Pot, 1889


Gauguin, Still Life with Onions, 1889
 Although de Haan is clearly emulating Gauguin's (and Cézanne's) brushstrokes and color contrasts, the garlic has a quality that differs from the way that Gauguin would treat an onion or apple -- as in this painting from the same period with a Japanese print in the background.


The garlic isn't solid in the same way. De Haan sees color between the cloves, in the shadows, the breaks where each segment will pull away. Larger cloves would have been saved for replanting.  Perhaps these came from a local garden, mulched by the rich seaweed from the shore.

 De Haan also paints the garlic's roots, uncut as yet, that connected it to the earth.  Like the lumpy brown potatoes behind them, these are things of the dirt.   Their stalks are tied together, perhaps to hang them up to dry.  


Garlic on a table top at a small café in Brittany, at a time of collaboration and friendship-- an intimate bohemia at the end of the earth.


Two paintings by Edouard Manet, The Bohemian and Still Life with Bag and Garlic (1861-62), which were cut from their original canvas by Manet himself and had long been separated, have now been reunited at the Louvre Abu Dhabi. They are seen with the engraving Les Gitanos (1862, Paris, Biblithèque nationale de France, department des estampes et de la photographie), which shows the artist’s original composition. Paul Cézanne’s highly abstract Rocks Near the Caves Above Château Noir (1904, Paris, Musée d’Orsay) is one of the artist’s late works that had a deep impact on the avant-garde of the early 20th century. Its visual synthesis of forms and colours, blended to capture the essence of a landscape, was one of the paths that Piet Mondrian meditated upon to create his pure abstraction, whose quintessence can be found in his Composition with Blue, Red, Yellow and Black (1922).

More Information: http://artdaily.com/news/31077/Talking-Art-Louvre-Abu-Dhabi-Features-the-Museum-s-First-Acquisitions#.UjNOqLzlXEg[/url]
Copyright © artdaily.org
Garlic on the kitchen table in the newly recreated Maison Marie Henri in Le Pouldu, June 2013.









For more art and food, see this popular blog:  feastingonart.com
William Scott, Still Life with Garlic, 1947, Oil on canvas, 64.8 x 81.2cm (25½ x 32 in)
Fermanagh County Museum at Enniskillen Castle


See this blog post for a fascinating look at the "Onion Johnnies" of Roscoff, Breton farmers who crossed the Channel to sell onions (from the handlebars of their bibybles) in England in  the mid 19th century.

Or read this article on "Culinary Ugliness."


 
 


Two paintings by Edouard Manet, The Bohemian and Still Life with Bag and Garlic (1861-62), which were cut from their original canvas by Manet himself and had long been separated, have now been reunited at the Louvre Abu Dhabi. They are seen with the engraving Les Gitanos (1862, Paris, Biblithèque nationale de France, department des estampes et de la photographie), which shows the artist’s original composition. Paul Cézanne’s highly abstract Rocks Near the Caves Above Château Noir (1904, Paris, Musée d’Orsay) is one of the artist’s late works that had a deep impact on the avant-garde of the early 20th century. Its visual synthesis of forms and colours, blended to capture the essence of a landscape, was one of the paths that Piet Mondrian meditated upon to create his pure abstraction, whose quintessence can be found in his Composition with Blue, Red, Yellow and Black (1922).

More Information: http://artdaily.com/news/31077/Talking-Art-Louvre-Abu-Dhabi-Features-the-Museum-s-First-Acquisitions#.UjNOqLzlXEg[/url]
Copyright © artdaily.org