Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Art Eyewitness Essay: Spreading the Word, Sharing the Message of Art

 

Spreading the Word, Sharing the Message of Art

The Story of Drawing by Susan Owens (Yale University, 250 pages, $39.95) 

                         Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists by Nick Trend                             (Thames & Hudson, 352 pages, $65.00)  

                          The Manuscripts Club by Christopher de Hamel                           (Penguin/Random House, paperback, 624 pages, $26.00)

By Ed Voves


So many books! Each year a lifetime's worth of reading is published, so much that even experts in a particular discipline of study struggle to keep-up with the tsunami of printed works in their field.

So many images! Never in history has there been such a constantly re-stocked supply of paintings, drawings, photographs, films and digital art as today. As if that were not promise and danger enough, the potential for good and evil of AI has yet to be addressed. 

Is there cause of alarm? Are there ways for creative individuals to stay focused and remain optimistic in such bewildering circumstances? In this Art Eyewitness post, I will offer some suggestions of notable recent books which will hopefully encourage and inspire art lovers in the years ahead.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Paul Cézanne's Mont Sante-Victoire on view in the Paris to Provence exhibition at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Encourage and inspire to what end? Well, to better appreciate works of art conceived in human minds and crafted by human hands. But, even more so, to recognize the wonder of the indelible fingerprint of life in each person we encounter. 

But first, to gain some perspective on the challenges of our times, let's take a quick look at the portrait of a notable figure from France's Belle Epoque of the late 1800's. During that not very tranquil era, this gifted individual found ways to combine action and contemplation in a life rich in achievement. 

The elderly gentleman in the painting by Édouard Vuillard which introduces this essay is Théodore Duret. Clutching his cat, Duret looks apprehensive, even a bit overwhelmed. The stacks of books on chairs and tables give the room an atmosphere of creative disorder, taken to the extreme. The mass of manuscripts on Duret's desk seems to be engulfing him and his feline companion like a rising tide.



Edouard Vuillard, Théodore Duret (detail),1912

Not to worry! Théodore Duret (1838-1927) was one of the most influential art writers in France during the Belle Epoque and well into the twentieth century. Travelling to Spain in 1865 as a salesman for his family's cognac company, he met Manet in the galleries of the Prado. This chance encounter marked the start of a life-long friendship with the French artist who was then coping with the fallout from his notorious 1863 painting, Olympia.

Like Manet, Duret was an iconoclast at heart. It was Duret who coined the term avant garde and he was one of the first and most resolute defenders of Impressionism. Duret's book, Manet and the French Impressionists (English translation,1910) is still required reading for art scholars.

An intrepid traveler, Duret visited Japan during the 1870's. While there, he commenced a study of ukiyo-e prints and wrote an influential biography of Hokusai. 



Edouard Manet, Portrait of Théodore Duret,1868

Un homme formidable, as the French say! But is it possible for us today to chart a creative course through life in this age of information overload? Can we mix action and innovation with study and reflection like Duret did a century ago?

What follows is a discussion of three recent books on various aspects of art which recall the character traits of Théodore Duret: reliance on observation rather than grand theories, love of travel, interest in unconventional subjects and an openness to life.

That these books would make great gifts for loved ones or fellow art enthusiasts is also an important consideration. However, as I addressed this intimate form of sharing the joy of art in a 2023 post, I won't repeat myself on that score. Instead, the emphasis here is on art appreciation as a dynamic process, with focused reading as a key component of the endeavor. 




The first volume on our reading list was selected as book of the year for 2024 by Apollo, the prestigious art journal. It was a very, very, very good choice.

The Story of Drawing: an Alternative History of Art, written by Susan Owens, deals with a subject that many regard as a matter of "preliminary sketches", first drafts of important works of art which will follow in due course. Experienced artists know better.

"Draw Antonio, draw Antonio," Michelangelo wrote to his assistant in 1522, "draw and don't waste time."

Susan Owens, formerly a curator at the Victoria & Albert Museum, took Michelangelo's counsel to heart. In less than two hundred pages of incisive text, complemented by a authoritative glossary, Owens surveys the various forms of drawing, from the ancient Egyptian ink "doodles" on flakes of limestone known as ostracon to the use of high-tech instruments like the rotring pen.

 Amazingly in so brief a space, Owens manages to include vivid character "sketches" of artists known for their skill as draftsmen - or draughtsmen, if your're English. Generally, one important or representative drawing, selected with great care by Owens, illustrates the oeuvre of these great masters. In the case of a select few, Michelangelo, Dürer and Rembrandt, multiple images are included, demonstrating their versatility.



Michelangelo, Studies for the figure of Adam for
The Creation of Man, Sistine Chapel c. 1511;
Christ on the Cross with the Virgin and St. John, c. 1560-64

Drawings are the first impressions of artists and, like the old saying, first impressions often are the most lasting. Drawing is how artists record the world, the actual physical reality before their eyes. It is also the means by which they connect with spiritual and emotional resources within themselves.

In her discussion of the German Renaissance-era artist, Albrecht Altdorfer, Owens writes on the ultimate determinant of successful drawing: imagination.

Ink and watercolour, pens and brushes: all could be tools for recording and understanding the natural world. But they could also be a means by which the world could be experienced in ways that had more to do with the imagination than with objective reality.

Some artists continued to devote themselves to "exactitude" in drawing, just as others emphasized the rules of perspective. But the human imagination has a "mind" of its own.

In a key passage of her book, Owens discusses how Paul Cézanne came to question the canons of Western art, creating in the process his own "hard-won grammar" of drawing.


Paul Cézanne, Still Life with Carafe, Bottle and Fruit, 1906

Owens writes of Cézanne's efforts to "discover how to express the solidity of objects and their essential truths."

Pencil or brush in hand, Cézanne grappled daily with these mysteries of surface and form. As a result, his drawings are not always easy to look at: they can be messy, fractured and full of broken contours ... It is as though he were inventing a new visual language with which to express what he felt needed to be said about the world. We, the viewers, have to get to grips with it too - but are rewarded by getting to play our part in Cézanne's thought process.

This concluding remark, "getting to play our part", is essential not just in appraising Cezanne's art but all art and all artists. Without our active appreciation, most drawing would be as intelligible as time-worn inscriptions on old tombstones. Owens does such a fantastic job facilitating our participation in the process of keeping art alive, that it was with real regret that I finished reading The Story of Drawing.



John Constable, Elm Trees in Old Hall Park, East Bergholt, 1817

Owens is following-up the success of The Story of Drawing with a soon-to-be-published biography of John Constable, who is represented in the present volume with his astonishing drawing, Elm Trees in Old Hall Park, East Bergholt, 1817. Constable so loved the trees and fields of his native land that he never ventured from England. In fact, he seldom traveled far from home even in that "tight little island."

Théodore Duret, our avatar in this essay, was an enthusiastic world traveler, almost a character out of a Jules Verne novel. Travel, while not an absolutely essential element of art, does widen the field of vision and extend the range of our imagination, as it certainly did for Duret. 

The second of our suggested titles does both, without even requiring that readers stir from their armchairs.


Piazza dei Signori, Verona. Photo by Bjorn Agerbeek


Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists is the first in a new series from Thames & Hudson, with future titles slated for visits to France, Japan and the U.S. If this premier effort is any indication, the "Art  of Travel" series will go far to redefine the category of deluxe "coffee table" book. 

Yes, Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists is a big book - measuring 9.8 x 12.5 inches and weighing over 5 pounds. Yes, it's lavishly illustrated with stunning photos and several sprightly page spreads which recall vintage copies of Holiday magazine.



A map of museums, churches and other historic sites in Florence,
 Urbino and Rome, related to Michelangelo and Raphael.
 Map created by Cassandre Montoriol

The classic coffee table book was meant to be seen, admired for its design and, maybe, given a quick perusal. Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists won't be spending much time on the proverbial coffee table. 

The sheer size of the illustrations of great paintings, though many are cropped and shown in detail, is one of the most notable features of this book. Even a trip to the Ufizzi in Florence could not provide an opportunity to examine the Ognissanti Madonna "up-close and personal" to the same degree that you can with this magnificent Thames & Hudson volume.
 


Giotto, Detail of the Ognissanti Madonna altarpiece, c. 1300

The text of Italy in the Footsteps of the Great Artists, engaging but also authoritative, was written by a veteran travel writer, Nick Trend. Usefully organized for those planning a trip to Italy, the book carefully notes where the major works of great artists can be found in situ in churches and in museums. 

Beginning with Giotto in the 1300's and extending to Canaletto and Tiepolo in the 18th century, Trend also stresses the lives and accomplishments of the great women artists of the Baroque period. Artemisia Gentileschi, Sofonisba Anguissola and Lavinia Fontana are given equal treatment - judicious analysis and lavish illustrations - to their male counterparts. 



               Fontana Maggiore, Perugia, photo by Frank Krautschick;                
    Prato della Valle and Basilica di Santa Giustina, Padua, photo by Andrea

Trend also extends the same kind of balanced coverage to Italian cities which do not figure on the itineraries of most tour groups. Off-the beaten-path, Arezzo, Verona, Mantua and Cremona have artistic treasures to share, which are all the more memorable for being seldom seen.

By carefully juxtaposing images of Italy's great art works with evocative photos of their places of origin, Trend enables us to grasp an important fact. These masterpieces were painted or sculpted, for the most part, in small city states. Communes, as they were called, were the epicenters of Italian creativity. 

Rome, seat of the Catholic Church, possessed abundant wealth for commissioning works of art and building imposing churches. Venice, technically a republic, was able to devote considerable revenue from its maritime trade to do the same. But most of the vast array of art so brilliantly surveyed in this impressive volume originated in the city-states of a country which was not politically unified until the Risorgimento,1848-1871.



    A street in Arezzo, photo by Bjorn Agerbeek; Piero della Francesca's Mary Magdalene (detail), fresco painting for the cathedral of
 Santi Pietro e Donato in Arezzo, c. 1460

Italy, during the Renaissance and Baroque centuries, was a divided, tumultuous realm. But in the terms of its art, it was a case of "small is beautiful." 


In such an atmosphere, highly-motivated individuals, risk-takers ambitious for success, can find plenty of scope for their talents. In our third recommended book, that is exactly the cast of characters whom we encounter.



Detail from a printed edition of Aristotle, 1483, purchased in 1919
 at the sale of the Yates Thompson collection for the Morgan Library 

In The Manuscripts Club, just published in paperback, Christopher de Hamel returns to the rarefied world of medieval manuscripts which he brilliantly, illuminated in his Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts. Where that acclaimed work dealt with the provenance of some of the most precious, hand-copied books ever created, The Manuscripts Club focuses on people behind the literary scene, individuals who usually remain hidden from public scrutiny. 



Ed Voves (Photo 2023)  
The Lindau Gospels, c. 880, manuscript from St. Gall, Switzerland

The Manuscripts Club presents the life-stories of patrons, artists, collectors, museum officials, "wheelers-and-dealers" in the book trade and one charismatic, savvy librarian. 

De Hamel begins with a bona fide saint, Anselm (1033-1109) who as a youth "was already wearing himself out in studying manuscripts that he decided to become a monk." Anselm went on to become one of the great scholars of his age, rising to the rank of Archbishop of Canterbury. This promotion embroiled him in bitter church vs. state politics with the Norman kings of England. No wonder, Anselm so loved the company of books!

From the not-so Dark Ages to the twentieth century, de Hamel narrates the lives of these "bookmen" with an intimacy and insight that almost seems like he knew them personally, which in a way he does. 



Illuminated page from the Beatus Manuscript of Las Huelgas de Burgos, 1220, purchased by Belle Greene in 1910; Portrait of Belle da Costa Greene,1929, by Mattie Edwards Hewitt

The final member of de Hamel's "club" is a familiar face in Art Eyewitness. I recently reviewed the spectacular exhibition at the Morgan Library devoted to Belle da Costa Green. Beginning as a "bachelor girl" librarian, eventually rising to the directorship of the Morgan Library, Belle Green also managed to "pass for White", thus evading the racial prejudice which would otherwise have barred her from the extraordinary success which she achieved.

The manuscripts which Belle Green acquired for the Morgan Library are notable for their stunning, hand-painted illustrations. Yet, it is words which ultimately matter in books, just as deeds do in human lives. De Hamel notes, in his chapter on the seventeenth century Jewish book preserver, Rabbi David Oppenheim, that the degree of use of a sacred book of Judaica is what counts in Jewish culture.

Alluding to his years of working as the medieval manuscripts expert for Sotheby's, de Hamel writes of the attitude of Jewish book collectors.

Damage was evidence of past study, shared by others in a long tradition of a manuscript's usefulness. A flawless and untouched Hebrew manuscript, admired by mainstream collectors in my world, would be deemed unloved, unused and somehow less desirable... The purpose of a Jewish manuscript was to be used."




Here, then, are three recommended books to help you navigate the uncertain times in which we live. These three will, I trust, help shield you from the Hokusai-like "great wave" of information and misinformation which daily inundates us all. Hopefully, they will inspire us to chart our own course of exploration, as we share the message of art.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                   Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd and Ed Voves


Book cover illustrations are by courtesy of Yale University Press, Thames & Hudson and Penguin/Random House. The map of Renaissance art sites in Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists is © of Cassandre Montoriol and courtesy of Thames & Hudson.

Introductory Image (and below) :                                                                    
Edouard Vuillard (French, 1868–1940) Théodore Duret, 1912. Oil on cardboard on wood: 95.2 x 74.8 cm (37 1/2 x 29 7/16 in.) Chester Dale collection, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Paul Cézanne's Mont Sante-Victoire on view in the Paris to Provence exhibition at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Edouard Manet (French, 1868–1883) Théodore Duret, 1868. Oil on canvas: 46.5 x 35.5.cm. Collection of Petit Palais, Museum of the Fine Arts of the City of Paris 

Michelangelo (Italian, Florence, 1472–1564) Studies for the figure of Adam for
The Creation of Man, Sistine Chapel c. 1511. Red chalk over stylus underdrawing. © British Museum; Christ on the Cross with the Virgin and St. John, c. 1560-64. Black chalk and white heightening | 38.2 x 21.0 cm (sheet of paper). © Royal Collection Trust, UK

Paul Cézanne (French, 1839-1906) Still Life with Carafe, Bottle and Fruit, 1906. Watecolor and graphite on pale buff paper, 48 x 62.5 cm. © Henry and Rose Pearlman collection, New York.

John Constable (English, 1776-1837) Elm Trees in Old Hall Park, East Bergholt, 1817. Graphite, with slight grey and white washes, 59.1 x 49.5 cm. Victoria and Albert Museum, London.

Piazza dei Signori, Verona. Photo by Bjorn Agerbeek. Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists, courtesy of Thames & Hudson

Cassandre Montoriol (Map, 2025) Illustrated map showing museums, churches and historic sites in Florence, Urbino and Rome, relating to Michelangelo and Raphael. Courtesy of Thames and Hudson.

Giotto  Detail of Ognissanti Madonna altarpiece, c. 1300. Ufizzi Gallery, Florence. Image is modified: from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Giotto,_1267_Around-1337_-_Maest%C3%A0_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg

Fontana Maggiore, Perugia, photo by Frank Krautschick.  Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists is © of Cassandre Montoriol and courtesy of Thames & Hudson               

Prato della Valle and Basilica di Santa Giustina, Padua, photo by Andrea. Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists is © of Cassandre Montoriol and courtesy of Thames & Hudson

Street in Arezzo. Photo by Bjorn Agerbeek. Italy In the Footsteps of the Great Artists, courtesy of Thames & Hudson 

Piero della Francesca's Mary Magdalene (detail), fresco painting for the cathedralSanti Pietro e Donato in Arezzo, c. 1460. https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Magdalena_(Piero_della_Francesca)

Detail from a printed edition of Aristotle, 1483. Illustrated by Girolamo da Cremona. Courtesy of the Morgan Library and Museum

Ed Voves Photo (2023) The Lindau Gospels, c. 880. Manuscript from the Monastery of St. Gall, Switzerland. Collection of the Morgan Library and Museum.

Illuminated page from the Beatus Manuscript of Las Huelgas de Burgos, 1220, purchased by Belle Greene in 1910 for J.P. Morgan

Ed Voves, Photo (2024) Photograph of Belle da Costa Greene, 1929, by Mattie Edwards Hewitt (for Bain News Service), c. 1929, Photographic print: 7 x 5 in.(17.8 x 12.8 cm., Bain Collection, Library of Congress.


Sunday, November 30, 2025

Art Eyewitness Review: Henri Rousseau Exhibit at the Barnes Foundation

 

Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets

The Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia 

October 19, 2025 – Feb. 22, 2026  

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

It has taken three visits to the outstanding exhibition on Henri Rousseau, at the Barnes Foundation, to get my thoughts in order about this enigmatic French painter. I particularly wanted to see if Rousseau could be included in one of the classifications created for visionary artists of his temperament.

Was Rousseau a Symbolist? Was he a Surrealist before the fact, as Andre Breton later stated? Could he be considered as a Magical Realist, a category established decades after his death?

None of the above, from what I can gather.

The Barnes Foundation exhibition, organized in collaboration with the Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris, presents sixty works by Henri Rousseau. Many are powerful, occasionally disturbing paintings, dreamlike in some instances, nightmarish in others. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's Carnival Evening, 1886

Several of these complex, hard-to-fathom works were created early in Rousseau's career. One of these is Carnival Evening, painted in 1886. Given its sophistication, Carnival Evening makes establishing a timeline of Rousseau's creative development difficult to construct.

Quite a number of the other works on view in the Barnes exhibition are small format paintings, generally banal and lacking the air of mystery which makes Rousseau's major works so remarkable. Individually, some of these genre scenes, still life paintings and family portraits have a measure of charm. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's View of Clichy Bridge at Asnieres, c. 1900-02



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's Pere Junier's Cart (detail),1908

When viewed as a group, however, their ability to hold our interest, even as "naive" works of art, soon dissipates.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets, showing small-scale landscapes which Rousseau painted for working-class patrons.

Rousseau's lesser works are not inept, as many people viewed them at the time. Rather, they are mediocre by design. Rousseau "tossed-off" such paintings to make a quick sale in order to pay the rent and have a few francs left over for dinner. 

This was exactly the life-style of the impoverished Rousseau, whose personal life was blighted by tragedy, as well. Rousseau struggled during the whole span of his artistic career, never achieving an eventual "payday" such as Monet and Renoir enjoyed



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Two portraits by Henri Rousseau. At left, is Portrait of a Woman, 1895,  later purchased by Picasso. At right, is Portrait of Madame M., c. 1895

Indeed, one of the most striking works on view in the exhibit is a large-scale  portrait which the young Picasso purchased from a Paris art dealer who had marked it down as a canvas to be painted-over. Picasso, who had earlier considered Rousseau as something of a joke, treasured the portrait for the rest of his life.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Portrait photo of Henri Rousseau, by Dornac, 1907

Henri Rousseau (1844-1910) was a self-taught artist, driven by a desire to paint and a determination to be taken seriously. In the most famous photo of him, taken in 1907, Rousseau posed in front of one of his signature "jungle" paintings, Scouts Attacked by a Tiger. For the occasion, he wore an over-size beret worthy of a Rembrandt self-portrait and a cravat which might have come from Delacroix's wardrobe. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's Scouts Attacked by a Tiger, 1904

Such attempts at self-promotion failed miserably. When Rousseau first exhibited Scouts Attacked by a Tiger in 1904, he was ridiculed in the press. The painting was dismissed as a picture to attract a collector of "horrors" and remained unsold.

At best, Rousseau was classified as a "primitive" painter during his lifetime - when he wasn't being lampooned and derided. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation. The painting at center is Portrait of Frumence Biche.

If "primitive" is indeed an appropriate term to be used in consideration of Rousseau, then it is largely because he lived near the baseline of poverty and privation. This was especially so during his later years when his modest pension no longer covered expenses. 

Though ambitious for recognition and success, Rousseau approached the subjects of his art with empathy and awareness, born of the threadbare environment around him. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's The Rabbit's Meal, 1908

When Rousseau painted the portrait of a rabbit, normally raised by French peasants and townsfolk for the table, there is an evident bond between man and beast. Art scholars contend that the rabbit was likely a pet, rather than tomorrow's dinner. But Rousseau knew what it is like to live on the knife edge of mortality.

As I grappled with comprehending Rousseau's oeuvre, I recalled that he figured prominently in the later chapters of Andre Malraux's The Voices of Silence. So I reached over to my bedside bookshelf in order to consult this greatest of French art writers regarding Henri Rousseau.

Malraux referred to Rousseau as the Douanier, this being the title of Rousseau's civil service position as a customs inspector. Originally a patronizing, even insulting, reference among Rousseau's colleagues and competitors, Douanier eventually became an endearing nickname for him by the time Malraux wrote The Voices of Silence. 

The Douanier, Malraux stated, "seems to derive from nothing." Pondering Rousseau's emergence as an aspiring artist, Malraux contrasted his work with "naive" painting in France of the same period. Malraux notes :

He loves that painting, imitates it, makes it his starting point; then swerves away and, though never quite abandoning it, strikes out in his own direction. While his early works are saturated by its influence, the "Snake Charmer" belongs to another realm of art.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's The Snake Charmer, 1907

Just where the "realm" of The Snake Charmer fitted into the established art tradition is a matter of speculation. Malraux knew that there were limits even to his astute insights. Instead, he wisely let Rousseau speak for himself.

"People have said," the Douanier wrote in 1910, "that my art does not belong to this age. Surely you will understand that at this stage I cannot change my manner, which is the result of long years of persistent work."    

Work. That is the key to understanding Rousseau. He wanted to be an artist and he worked to become one. Without formal training or family connections in the art world - his father was a tinsmith - Rousseau dedicated himself to "long years of persistent work."     

 

        
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's The Wedding, 1905

Hard work and struggle against the odds no doubt explains the appeal of Rousseau to Dr. Albert Barnes. When Dr. Barnes began directly buying works of art for his Foundation in the aftermath of World War I, interest in Rousseau was rising. So were the prices of the deceased artist's paintings. No matter. Barnes purchased eighteen Rousseau masterpieces. It was - and remains - the greatest collection of Rousseau paintings outside of France. 

The eighteen Rousseau paintings amassed by Dr. Barnes provides the foundation of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets. A similar trove of works of art comes from the collection of the Musée de l’Orangerie. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's Child with a Doll, c. 1892


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's War, 1894

Especially notable among the paintings on loan from the
 Musée de l’Orangerie and the Musée d'Orsay are two utterly dissimilar paintings. That the same artist created the immensely lovable Child with a Doll (c.1892) and the shocking War, painted a mere two years later, is almost impossible to credit.  

It is also difficult to conceive how the curators of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets could have reconciled the many contradictions and inexplicable elements of Rousseau's life and work. Yet, that is precisely what Nancy Ireson and Christopher Green managed to achieve. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Nancy Ireson and Christopher Green at the press preview for 
Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation

Both curators bring outstanding credentials to the study of Henri Rousseau. In fact, they worked together on the major Rousseau exhibition, presented twenty years ago, at the Tate Modern Gallery, London. The exhibition later traveled to the Grand Palais, Paris, and the National Gallery, Washington. Green was the curator of this exhibition; Ireson, who was working on her doctoral dissertation on Rousseau, was his chief assistant.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets, showing
 Scouts Attacked by a Tiger & Fight between a Tiger and a Buffalo

The title of the 2005-06 exhibition was Jungles in ParisHenri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes has an entire gallery devoted to Rousseau's lush, imaginary landscapes. It is virtually a complete exhibit, in itself. To do full justice to these extraordinary paintings, I will post a follow-up review in Art Eyewitness in the near future. 

Once a visitor to the Rousseau exhibit at the Barnes enters the show's last gallery. they will understand why I can hardly restrain my enthusiasm.


  

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets, showing
The Sleeping Gypsy, Unpleasant Surprise and The Snake Charmer

This final gallery of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets is - without exaggeration - one of the most effective pictorial displays that I have ever seen. This is not merely a matter of technical use of space and lighting, though both are handled splendidly. Rather, in this small space, Green and Ireson have managed to summon the mental universe of Henri Rousseau to life.  

Presented here are three mighty works, never displayed together, not even in Rousseau's studio during his lifetime, until now: 
  • The Sleeping Gypsy (1897) Museum of Modern Art (NYC)
  • Unpleasant Surprise (1899-1901) Barnes Foundation
  • The Snake Charmer (1907) Musée d'Orsay
Each of these three paintings illustrates vital aspects of how Rousseau conceived of the great questions and challenges of living. But these are enigmatic works. They leave us guessing what Rousseau's own, inner, thoughts were regarding the meaning of life. 
                            


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's The Sleeping Gypsy, 1905 (and detail) 

Does The Sleeping Gypsy depict a moment of mortal peril or is it a dream? Is this a real lion or a Jungian archetype in the unconscious mind of the gypsy?



  Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's Unpleasant Surprise, 1899-1901

Was Rousseau attempting to create an Old Master-style narrative scene with Unpleasant Surprise? Or might the many ludicrous aspects of the painting reveal that it was conceived as a mock epic, a sly reworking of the unclad heroine-in-distress motif? 

  

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
Henri Rousseau's The Snake Charmer (detail)1907

Finally, when we peer into the eyes of The Snake Charmer, do we behold the hypnotic gaze of a sorceress? Or is this the piercing look of one who understands that the "state of nature" is no paradise? To live in freedom is to live with danger, as another Rousseau, Jean Jacques Rousseau, affirmed.



There are likely no definitive answers to these questions. When we take the opportunity to study these paintings in the chapel-like setting of the final gallery of the Barnes exhibit, we do indeed confront what Ireson and Green call the Rousseau enigma.

Into each of these paintings, as the curators note, Rousseau put a special effort. 
"... each of them is on one level up-front in its appeal and on another an impenetrable mystery."



These enigmas are Henri Rousseau's special gift to us. With the extraordinary works of his imagination, Rousseau invites, encourages, almost insists that we make use of our own.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved.

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's Carnival Evening, 1886. Oil on canvas: 46 3/16 x 35 1/4 in. (117.3 x 89.5 cm.) Philadelphia Art Museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's View of Clichy Bridge at Asnieres, 1900-02. Oil on canvas: 17 5/16 x  15 3/4 in. (44 x 40 cm.) Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's Pere Junier's Cart (detail), 1908. Oil on canvas: 38 3/16 x 50 13/16 in. (97 x 129 cm.) Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, showing small-scale landscapes which Rousseau painted for working-class patrons.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Two portraits by Henri Rousseau. At left, is Portrait of a Woman, 1895. Oil on canvas: 63 x 41 5/16 in. (160 x 105 cm.) Musée National Picasso, Paris. At right, is Portrait of Madame M., c. 1895. At right, is Portrait of Madame M., 1895. Oil on canvas: 77 15/16 x 45 1/16 in.(198 x 114.5 cm.) Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Portrait photograph of Henri Rousseau, 1907 taken by Dornac (Paul Francois Arnold Cardon) Original photo, Archives Larousse, Paris

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's Scouts Attacked by a Tiger, 1904. Oil on canvas: 47 7/8 x 63 3/4 in. (121.6 x 161.9 cm.) Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, showing Rousseau's Portrait of Frumence Biche, 1893.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's The Rabbit's Meal, 1908. Oil on canvas:19 11/16 x 24 1/8 in. (50 x 61.2 cm.) Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's The Snake Charmer, 1907. Oil on canvas: 65 3/4 x 74 5/8 in. (167 x 189.5 cm) Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's The Wedding, 1905. Oil on canvas:    64 3/16 x 44 7/8 in. (163 x 114 cm.) Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's Child with a Doll, c. 1892. Oil on canvas: 26 3/8 x 20 1/2 in. (67 x 52 cm.)  Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau's War, c. 1894. Oil on Canvas: 45 1/16 x 76 3/4 in. (114.5 x 195 cm) Musée d’Orsay, Paris

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Nancy Ireson and Christopher Green at the press preview for Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets, showing Scouts Attacked by a Tiger & Fight between a Tiger and a Buffalo.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets, showing The Sleeping Gypsy, Unpleasant Surprise and The Snake Charmer.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The Sleeping Gypsy (and detail) ,1897. Oil on canvas: 51 x 79 in. (129.5 x 200.7 cm.) MOMA New York.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Unpleasant Surprise, 1899-1901. Oil on canvas: 76 9/16 x 51 in. (194.5 x 129.5 cm.) Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The Snake Charmer (detail), 1907. Oil on canvas:  65 3/4 x 74 5/8 in. (167 x 189.5 cm.) Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery views of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation.