Art Eyewitness Review: Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life at the Morgan Library and Museum

 Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life 

The Morgan Library & Museum, New York City

September 12, 2025 - January 4, 2026

Reviewed by Ed Voves

The 1993 discovery in northern Israel of fragments of an ancient monument thrilled scholars of ancient history and people devoted to the study of the Holy Bible. The Tel Dan inscription wasn't much to look at, pieces of gray stone inscribed with words in the Aramaic language, dating to nearly three thousand years ago.

The inscription itself was a different matter. Among the words chiseled into the stone was the title of the dynastic rulers of the Kingdom of Judah: "the House of David." It was the first archaeological confirmation of the legendary, giant-slaying King David, revered for centuries afterwards.

The Morgan Library and Museum has just opened a fascinating exhibition devoted to the reverence for King David during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Sing a New Song surveys a thousand years of history, from the last years of the Western Roman Empire to the Reformation of the 1500's. At every point, we find the presence the of the indomitable David.

Lorenzo Monaco, King David as Psalmist, painted in Florence,1408-1410 

Why the medieval-era David? What was the key factor in the continuing adulation for a long-dead monarch? Was it his courageous example in defeating the mighty Goliath with only a sling-shot - or something more?

Indeed, it was another of David's accomplishments which kept his reputation alive. It was a book of 150 poems which Jews and Christians alike believed the harp-playing David had composed and sung himself.

The Psalms.

The word psalm derives from psaillein, the Greek verb form "to pluck." This evolved into psalmos, "a song sung to harp music." 

Page from a Greek psalter, known as Bodmer 24,

 created in Egypt, ca. 225-325

Since Greek was the common language of many ethnic groups of the Roman Empire in the eastern Mediterranean area, psalmos gained a widespread usage and was adapted by the Latin-speaking western regions.

The indelible image associated with psalm comes, not from etymology, but from the folk memory of the brave Hebrew shepherd boy and, later, deeply-flawed king of Judah. David is the first actual hero known to history (thanks to the Tel Dan inscription). Achilles, Hector and Odysseus may have lived and fought in a war at Troy. But David did live, 1040-970 B.C., and did compose hymns to Yahweh which we call psalms.

 Young David, as depicted in the Crusader Bible, 1244-1254

History, especially that relating to the Bible, is maddeningly complicated. We must acknowledge that David composed several of the 150 Psalms, but not all. Most were inspired by him but composed by other poets, sometimes centuries later.

Christians and Jews during the Middle Ages believed that David was the author of ALL of the Psalms. Since the medieval era was the great Age of Faith, we will bow to their convictions and focus our attention on the magnificent exhibition at the Morgan Library and Museum.

             Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

Gallery view of Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life

Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life is a sterling example of the Morgan curatorial staff at their best. Such a multi-faceted exhibition, combining religion and art, word and image is a trademark of this great institution. No one presents exhibits of this complexity with greater skill and insight than the Morgan.

            Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

Gallery view of Sing a New Song, showing a medieval-style"cut-out"

Sing a New Song took seven years to develop, design and mount, much of the time and difficulty due to effects of the Covid-19 pandemic. The "team effort" was led by Roger Wieck, the department head of the Morgan Library's incomparable collection of medieval manuscripts.

In his remarks at the press preview of a Sing a New Song, Wieck, referred to a particularly beautiful, hand-written book of psalms, known as the Lewis Psalter.  This illuminated manuscript is on loan to the Morgan from the Rare Book Department of the Free Library of Philadelphia and Wieck was clearly delighted to present it.

           Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

Roger Wieck, Department Head of Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts at the Morgan Library and Museum

 Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

The Lewis Psalter, Scenes from the Passion of Christ, ca. 1225-30

"To have the opportunity to hold the Lewis Psalter," Wieck proclaimed, "is like having Chartres Cathedral in your hands."

This remark is very astute for two reasons. The Lewis Psalter dates to the Gothic era or the High Middle Ages.This was the golden age of cathedral building, as well as creating illuminated manuscripts. Most of these splendidly illustrated books give a prominent place to pictures of David vs. Goliath, the latter always being depicted in the chain-mail fighting gear of knights of the contemporary era. 

   Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

David and Goliath from the Bible Historiale, ca. 1325

Magnificent devotional books like the Bible Historiale (above) in which David, clad in gold in the lower left hand-corner, takes aim at the hulking Goliath, were not the exclusive property of the Christian Church. The Morgan exhibition presents a Hebrew illuminated manuscript, the Carcassone Bible (1422). This handsome volume is comparable in the quality of its written text, the handwork of Simon ben Rabbi Samuel, and the beauty of its illustrations to Christian books of the same period.  

Simon ben Rabbi Samuel (copyist), The Carcassone Bible (1422)

The second point to Roger Wieck's remark that holding an illuminated manuscript like the Lewes Psalter "is like having Chartres Cathedral in your hands" was literally true during the Middle Ages. 

Jean Poyer (illuminator), The Hours of Henry VIII, showing

  St. Anne Instructing the Virgin, 1500

For devout people in medieval times, having the psalms at your disposal was to be able to worship God anywhere and everywhere. Whether you were part of a congregation at a cathedral or monastery, praying in your home or - as we will see - locked in a prison cell in the Tower of London, the Book of Psalms provided divine help to match your needs.

The illuminated manuscripts on view in Sing a New Song fall into four basic categories: psalters, books of hours, breviaries and primers. Psalms constituted vital components in each, particularly psalters. 

All 150 of the psalms were included in a psalter because the Christian clergy were required to read and pray all of them in a weekly ritual known as the Divine Office. The sequence varied according to the season of the Church year and the psalter was essential in keeping the correct order.

Initially, lavish pictures were seldom included in psalters. This can be seen in one of the most important works on view in the Morgan exhibit. It is relatively nondescript in appearance - compared with illuminated manuscripts from the Gothic era - but looks are deceiving, especially in the case of the Blickling Psalter.

The Blickling Psalter, ca. 730. This illustration shows Psalm 80: “ExultateDeo” (Rejoice to God) in Latin with Old English glosses.

The Blickling Psalter dates to the year 730, making it one of the oldest works in English literature. This is ironical since the main text is in Latin, written in a script known as i nsular majuscule which had been developed by Irish monks for the Book of Kells and then brought to their missionary outposts in the north of England. 

Scribes in England, most likely in Northumbria, composed this majestic work, now reduced to a fragment. They included explanatory glosses in between the lines of the Latin text. These words are in Old English, making the Blickling Psalter a vital source book for comprehending the development of the English language, as well as a testament to the rise of Christian faith in England.

The complex - and fascinating - details of the Blickling Psalter can be found in the "backstories" of most of the illuminated manuscripts on view in Sing a New Song. Likewise, the distinctions between a psalter and a book of hours provides vital insights into the rise of literacy and private devotion which reached new heights in the Gothic era. 

 Deirdre Jackson, Photo (2025) 

The Lodi Choirbook (1470-95) opened to the pages for Matins for Easter

Added to these important themes, there was the parallel development of music in medieval Europe. The Morgan exhibit highlights the role of music by displaying one of the large-format choir books which enabled psalms to be sung in powerful, emotion-charged accompaniment to the celebration of Christian Mass.

Sing a New Song has a millenium of history to narrate, with many details, especially of theology and religious practice, which may be unfamiliar to modern-day art lovers. To enlighten curious, perhaps puzzled, visitors to the exhibition,  Roger Wieck and his team, Diedre Jackson, Joshua O'Driscoll and Frederica Law-Turner have contributed essays to the exhibit catalog which are both instructive and enjoyable.

Like the illuminated manuscripts chronicled in its pages, the catalog of Sing a New Song, published by the D. Giles company, is truly a book to cherish. Sing a New Song is also a worthy counterpart to another Morgan/D.Giles collaboration, the Imperial Splendor exhibit (2021), which surveyed culture and religion in the Germanic realms of the Holy Roman Empire during the Middle Ages.

Medieval people certainly cherished their psalters and books of hours. Psalms, however, were valued for more than their words of moral encouragement or consolation. For Christians and Jews they were a form of spiritual armor to help resist temptation and ward-off demons and devils.

Considering that King David had dismally failed to observe the sixth and ninth commandments in the case of Bathsheba, Christian clergyman must have struggled with using the all-too-human monarch as an exemplar of morality. 

 Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

Triumphant Christ, depicted on a Reliquary Panel, 11th-13th century

One technique, was to emphasize the role of Jesus, as a descendant of David, who was shown (as above) fulfilling the words of Psalm 90 (13). "Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basilisk: and thou shalt trample under foot the lion and the dragon."

Another instance of using the psalms to thwart demons and devils was the Jewish practice in the Middle East, fifth to eighth centuries, of burying incantation bowls in the corners of homes and by doorways. These were inscribed with verses of the psalms, especially Psalm 90 (91) and stories of rabbis battling malign spirits.

 Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

Incantation bowls, from Nippur, Iraq, 5th-8th century

Given the many dangers faced by people during the Middle Ages, one should refrain from raising a bemused eyebrow at these practices. Human beings grasp at whatever comes to hand - or to mind - in times of crisis. 

For the medieval world, the greatest catastrophe came in 1347-48, when the Bubonic Plague ravaged Europe, the Middle East and North Africa. Prayer books and incantation bowls had little effect, as close to half of Europe's population succumbed to the dread disease.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) 

Memento Mori Rosary Terminal Bead,  ca. 1500-1525

The exhibit objects in the last gallery of Sing a New Song bear the mark of the Black Death. The image of death appeared on the pages of psalters, statues, paintings and religious objects. Death was an inescapable fact of life during the late Middle Ages and chanting psalms was often the only relief.

Hans Holbein the Younger, Sir Thomas More, 1527

For Sir Thomas More, imprisoned for resisting the usurpation of King Henry VIII as head of the Church of England, the Psalms were the inspiration for the poignant poems and essays he wrote while in the Tower of London.

The final book on display in Sing a New Song is not an illuminated manuscript. Rather, it is a prayer book printed in 1530 with the new movable type technology. A combination psalter and book of hours, it was used by Thomas More during his imprisonment and was likely the last book he read before going to the block on July 6, 1535.

 

Ed Voves, Photo (2025)

 Prayer book of Sir Thomas More, 1530

It was difficult for me to control my emotions while looking on the prayer book of the "Man for all Seasons." More wrote poetry in the margins of this book, including his "psalm-like prayer," now called A Godly Meditation. Excerpts from these meditations appear below: 

Give me Thy grace, good Lord, to set the world at naught; to set my mind fast upon thee; and not to hang upon the blast of men's mouths.

To bear the cross with Christ; to have the last things in remembrance; to have ever afore mine eye my death that is ever at hand; to make death no stranger to me; to foresee and consider the everlasting fire of hell; to pray for pardon before the Judge come. 

To think my most enemies my best friends; for the brethren of Joseph could never have done him so much good with their love and favour as they did him with their malice and hatred.

What better description for the Psalms can we have than "godly meditations"? 

Whatever language was used to write them and whether or not they are illustrated with hand-painted pictures is of secondary importance. These precious books of psalms, on view at the Morgan, are all godly meditations, written-down by many hands, but not by the hand of man alone.

***

Text and original photos: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved 

Introductory Image: The Windmill Psalter, England, London, late 13th century. Cantate Domino canticum novum (Ps. 97): Clerics Singing. Codex: 320 x 215 mm. Morgan MS M.102, fols. 99v-100r Purchased by J. Pierpont Morgan, 1902

Lorenzo Monaco (13-14) King David as Psalmist, painted in Italy, Florence, ca.1408-1410) Panel painting: 568 x 432 mm. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 65.14.

The Crusader Bible. Young David, one of four scenes in the life of King David, depicted on a page of the Crusader Bible, created in Paris, France, ca. 1244-1254. Single Leaf: 390 x 300 mm. Morgan  MS M.638, fol. 25v.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life at the Morgan Library and Museum.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life, showing a "cut-out"in the medieval Gothic style.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Portrait of Roger Wieck, Department Head of Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts of the Morgan Library and Museum.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) The Lewis Psalter, illuminated by the Leber Group, France, Paris, ca. 1225-30. Codex: 230 x 165 mm. Rare Book Department, Free Library of Philadelphia, Lewis MS E 185, fols. 14v–15r

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) David and Goliath from the Bible Historiale (French). Illuminated by the workshop of Richard and Jeanne de Montbaston. Codex: 425 x 310 mm. France, Paris, ca. 1325 The Morgan Library & Museum, MS M.323, fols. 1v–2r | Purchased by J. Pierpont Morgan, 1907.

Carcassone Bible, France, Avignon, 1422. Codex, written by Simon ben Rabbi Samuel for Vidal Astruc de Carcassone: 288 x 203 mm. Morgan MS G.48, fols. 438r-437v

Hours of Henry VIII. St. Anne Instructing the Virgin. Illuminated by Jean Poyer France, Tours, ca. 1500. Codex: 256 x 180 mm. The Morgan Library & Museum, MS H.8, fols. 186v–187r | Gift of the Heineman Foundation,1977

Blickling Psalter, England, ca. 730. Psalm 80: “Exultate Deo” (Rejoice to God) in Latin with Old English glosses. Codex: 306 x 230 mm. The Morgan Library & Museum, MS M.776, fols. 39v–40r | Purchased, 1932

Diedre Jackson, Photo (2025 Gallery view of Sing a New Song, showing the Lodi Book (Latin) opened to Resurrection (Matins for Easter. Created in Milan, ca. 1470-95. Codex: 560 x 410 mm. The Morgan Library & Museum, MS M.686, fols. 2v–3r | Purchased, before 1921.

Book cover illustration of Sing a New Song: the Psalms in Medieval Art and Life, courtesy of D. Giles, Ltd.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Triumphant Christ on a Reliquary panel. Made in Belgium, Mosan workshop, late eleventh century (panel) and thirteenth century (frame). Silver, gilded silver, gilded copper, rock crystal, champlevé enamel and other materials: 585 x 380 x 50 mm. The Walters Art Museum, Baltimore, 57.519

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Sing a New Song at the Morgan Library and Museum, showing Incantation bowls, inscribed in Jewish Babylonian Aramaic. From Iraq, Nippur, ca. fifth–seventh century. Penn Museum, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, B2923, B9009, B2945 | Penn Babylonian Expeditions, 1889-90.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Front and back views of Memento Mori Rosary Terminal Bead, ca. 1500-1525. Made in Northern France or Flanders. Elephant ivory, with emerald pendant, silver-gilt mount: 136 x 40 x 43 mm. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, gift of J. Pierpont Morgan, 1917; 17.190.305

Hans Holbein the Younger. Sir Thomas More, 1527. Drawing in black and colored chalks, with outlines pricked for transfer: 39.8 x 29.9 cm.. Royal Collection Trust, England, RCIN 912268 Photo: © King Charles III 2025.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) The Prayer Book of Sir Thomas More (Combined Psalter/Book of Hours: the Book of Hours section was printed in Paris by François Regnault, 1530. The Psalter section was printed by Franz Birckman in Paris, 1522) Codex: 220 mm (quarto) Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University, New Haven, MS Vault More| Gift of Edwin J. Beinecke, Yale 1907, and Frederick W. Beinecke, Yale 1909

Art Eyewitness Essay: "Mirror of the Soul", Reflections on the Paris to Provence exhibit at the Barnes Foundation

 

"Mirror of the Soul"
     Reflections on the Barnes Foundation's Paris to Provence Exhibition

Text by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

In a December 1885 letter to his brother, Theo, Vincent van Gogh composed one of his most poignant statements on his aims as an artist:

"I'd rather paint people's eyes than cathedrals," Van Gogh stated, "for there's something in the eyes that isn't in the cathedral ... to my mind the soul of a person ... is more interesting."

While reading this heartfelt statement, one almost senses that the Dutch painter will continue his reflections with a paraphrase of the often-quoted proverb, "the eyes are the mirror of the soul."

Van Gogh did not pursue the eyes/soul theme or use the analogy of mirror in his 1885 letter to Theo. Earlier, in 1877, he did write in this vein to his brother - as we will discuss momentarily. But when I stood before Van Gogh's portrait of Joseph-Etienne Roulin, on view in a special exhibition at the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia, these words soon came to mind and have been much in my thoughts since then.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin),1889

Van Gogh's "Postman" was the anchor work of art in a spectacular four-painting ensemble in the just concluded From Paris to Provence exhibition at the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia. In the Art Eyewitness review of this wonderful exhibit, I commented on the special insights afforded to this portrait by a change from its normal Barnes Method presentation. I won't belabor that point further.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

Gallery view of Paris to Provence, showing

 Van Gogh's Still Life (1888), The Smoker (1888), The Postman (1889) 

and Houses and Figure (1890).

Oddly enough, it was not the way that Joseph-Etienne Roulin was hung in the exhibition that occasioned my reflections on the eyes of this iconic portrait. Instead, it was a very unusual design feature in the layout of Paris to Provence in the Roberts Gallery of the Barnes which led to a train of thought which, to be honest, I had not been expecting.  

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

Gallery view of Paris to Provence at the Barnes Foundation, showing

 an example of a "cut-out" or "window" exhibition feature

Known colloquially as "cut-outs" or "windows", these openings in gallery walls create lines of sight which can totally transform exhibit spaces. The Met used this technique to brilliant effect in its 2022 Winslow Homer exhibition.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Gallery view of the Winslow Homer: Crosscurrents exhibit at The Met

Instead of keeping us "imprisoned" within four walls and a ceiling, the special exhibition gallery now opens our eyes and minds to unusual sights, unorthodox angles of observation and unexpected impressions and thoughts. This process sounds more dramatic than it is in practice, which transpires at several degrees below our conscious awareness.

Yet, these "cut-outs" can powerfully affect our perception and help transform a visual encounter with works of art into a visionary experience.

For that to happen, we need to augment the influence of sophisticated design techniques like "cut-outs" with an appreciation of the work of art we are examining. This includes the social and spiritual realms which the artist and his subject inhabit, as well as the exterior setting around them.  

To help us comprehend this complex interplay of outer environment and inner character traits, another quote from Vincent van Gogh is in order. This reflection dates to 1877, when Van Gogh worked in an art dealership in London. In a letter to his brother, Theo, Van Gogh wrote,

 "The souls of places seem to enter the souls of men, so often from a barren, dreary region there emerges a lively, ardent and profound faith. As the place, so the man. The soul is a mirror first, and only then a seat of feeling."   

To test Van Gogh's theories on how the circumstances of the world around us enter into the "souls of men", let's compare the Barnes Foundation's portrait of Joseph-Etienne Roulin with two others which the Dutch artist painted of the French postal official (of a total of six).    

Shortly after arriving in Arles during the winter of 1888, Van Gogh became acquainted with Joseph-Etienne Roulin (1841-1903) and established a close friendship. Early on, he painted an impressive, almost heroic-scale, portrait of Roulin in his dark blue postal uniform, which gave him the air of a rugged sea-captain. 

Vincent van Gogh, Postman Joseph Roulin, 1888

This portrait, one of the treasures of the Museum of Fine Arts Boston, presents  Roulin in an introspective mood. His eyes are not focused on Van Gogh, but looking inward. That is certainly not the case with a tightly-cropped portrait of Roulin, painted around the same time. It has the hard, almost defensive, stare of a passport photo.

It is this second work, from the collection of the Detroit Institute of Art, which best serves as a foil to the Barnes portrait of Roulin, which was painted in the spring of 1889. The two works, studied in contrast, exemplify Van Gogh's 1877 reflections on how the "soul is a mirror first, and only then a seat of feeling." 

  

Van Gogh's Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin, 1888,

 from the Detroit Institute of Art, (left) contrasted with the Barnes Foundation's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin), 1889. 

We know from Van Gogh's letters to Theo that it took him a while to get the measure of Roulin. Initially, he matter-of-factly described Roulin as a "man more interesting than most." 

By the time he painted Roulin in the spring of 1889. Van Gogh's tone had completely changed. Roulin had devotedly aided him during the terrible emotional breakdown triggered by the dispute with Gauguin. Even after he was transferred to duty in Marseilles, Roulin returned to Arles to visit Van Gogh, as he struggled to regain control of his life. Now, Roulin is described as having "the salient gravity and a tenderness for me such as an old soldier might have for a younger one." 

  

Gravity and tenderness, along with concern, sorrow and perhaps, a touch of fear. These emotions are visibly present in the "mirror" of Roulin's eyes. An intelligent man, with considerable life experience, Roulin likely suspected that Van Gogh's recovery would be a difficult process. 

There can be absolutely no doubt that the experience of his friendship with Roulin  had registered in Van Gogh's soul as "a seat of feeling." Van Gogh signed the Barnes Foundation portrait, "Vincent." It was the only one of his six portraits of Roulin to be signed. 

Van Gogh captured the essence of Roulin's character and inner spirit, making this work one of the greatest portraits in European art during the "long" 19th century. Having acknowledged Van Gogh's achievement, it also needs to be emphasized that From Paris to Provence gave plenty of scope to his contemporaries as portrait painters. Renoir, Cezanne, Gauguin and later Modigliani and Soutine, each in their unique way, devoted themselves to depicting their subjects - body and soul. 

    

The opening gallery of Paris to Provence presented a choice selection of portraits by Renoir, a portrait by Cézanne of his wife (which, like many a Cézanne, seems more of a work-in-progress than a finished painting) and an intriguing genre scene by Manet. All are works of enduring merit. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the Paris to Provence exhibition, showing Renoir's Portrait of 

Jeanne Durand-Ruel, 1876

Given our theme of the eyes as "mirror of the soul,"  Renoir's portraits of two young girls, each the daughter of a prominent art dealer, command our attention.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Details of Renoir's Portrait of Jeanne Durand-Ruel, 1876, &

Girl with a Jump Rope: Portrait of Delphine Legrand, 1876

The girl on the left, Jeanne Durand-Ruel (1870-1914), was the daughter of Paul Durand-Ruel, the principal dealer of Manet and the Impressionists, including Renoir. On the right is Delphine Legrand, whose father, Alphonse Legrand, helped organize the Second Impressionist Exposition. This occurred in 1876, the year Renoir painted both portraits.

Renoir is said to have left the choice of clothing to the subjects who sat for their portraits. In the case of these children, the selection would have been made by their parents. The decision to dress the six-year old Jeanne in a bare-shouldered ball dress seems out-of-character for a level-headed business man and staunch Catholic like Durand-Ruel. Whatever motivated the choice of this dress, the result was to make little Jeanne look "living-doll" cute but also vulnerable, rather than grown-up and beautiful.

The blue smock, worn by Delphine, was a more sensible choice. Even grasping a jump-rope, she projects a mature personna. Looking at Delphine Legrand, one senses that this little girl is quite capable of handling herself in her social milieu.

Close-study of the faces and eyes of Jeanne and Delphine confirm what marvelous portraits these are. Renoir succeeded in capturing the real character of each girl and evoking their individual souls as "a seat of feeling." Jeanne's eyes are compelling and appealing; Delphine's are alert, aware and self-assured.

Or so it seems - and this is an important point to consider.

If we continue to hearken-back to the proverb, "the eyes are the mirror of the soul," we need to reflect on what this means. Proverbs, like the Oracle of Delphi, are open to interpretation. 

Who is reflected in the mirror of Jeanne's and Delphine's eyes? The young girls themselves? Renoir, who painted them? We, the art lovers who study them?

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Cézanne's Madam Cézanne, 1888-1890, Barnes Foundation

Continuing in this train of thought, who is mirrored in the dull, dark eyes of Madam Cézanne? Displayed in the same gallery as the Renoir portraits just described, Cézanne's painting appears to come from a completely different artistic convention and an alien way of thinking.

Cézanne could paint endearing and character-affirming portraits - when he was moved to do so. He demonstrated his versatility with Madam Cezanne with Her Hair Down, from the collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This was created shortly after the Barnes Foundation portrait with its grim, sullen expression, dating to 1890. 

                                                                                                                      

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

Cézanne's Madam Cézanne with Her Hair Down, 1890

 Philadelphia Museum of Art collection

Cézanne's rationale for depicting the human countenance according to the dictates of mood and feeling is memorably described  by his biographer, Alex Danchev:

A Cézanne portrait is more a thereness than a likeness. The mature Cézanne scorned mere likeness ... The portraits he preferred were the ones that showed temperament...

Inscrutable though the Barnes' portrait of Madame Cézanne may appear, we should resist concluding that personal factors or traces of marital discord influenced the way her husband depicted her. Cézanne had other motives. He was pushing art into uncharted regions, toward discovering a "thereness." 

Sentimentality had little place in Cézanne's artistic calculations. He adored his son, Paul. Yet the numerous portraits and sketches of Paul displayed in the National Gallery exhibit, Cézanne's Portraits (2018), and MOMA's Cézanne Drawing (2021) feature a circumscribed range of emotions much like those in  paintings of his mother. No beaming eyes or charming smiles that I can recall.

Instead of sentimentality in his portraits, Cézanne responded to sensations.

"I paint as I see, as I feel," Cézanne declared early in his career, "and I have very strong sensations."

It was these sensations and Cézanne's rigorous determination to depict them on his canvas which drew the attention of the succeeding generation of artists to follow his example, if not his techniques.

In the final gallery of From Paris to Provence, the legacy of Renoir, Van Gogh and - especially - Cézanne was seized-upon and radically re-envisioned by the School of Paris artists. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 View of the final gallery of From Paris to Provence, showing (from left) Modigliani's Girl with a Polka-Dot Blouse (1919), Soutine's Woman in Blue (1919) & Modigliani's Portrait of the Red-Headed Woman (1918)

Of this avant-garde group, Modigliani and Soutine worked with an almost reckless disregard for convention and their own health. They sought to integrate new influences into the art of portraiture - African masks, unsettling theories about human thought, emotion and sexuality, the impact of World War I - to promote the grand traditions of French art for a new century.

To  a remarkable degree, the School of Paris painters, with hardly a Frenchman in their ranks, made a lasting impact on the world of art.                                            

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

Details of portraits by Amadeo Modigliani and Chaim Soutine: Modigliani's Portrait of the Red-Headed Woman (1918)& Girl with a Polka-Dot Blouse (1919); Soutine's Woman in Blue (1919)

By the time this essay is posted, all of the works of art displayed in From Paris to Provence will have been rehung in their accustomed places on the gallery walls of the Barnes. Most had not been moved from their prescribed configuration since the 1993 international exhibition of Barnes Foundation works of art.  

Van Gogh's "Postman" will return to its cramped position behind an 18th century Windsor chair and Delphine Legrand will hop and skip with her jumping rope over a painted wooden chest, made by Pennsylvania Dutch craftsmen in 1792.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Visitors to the Barnes Foundation, viewing works of art in the Main Room, north wall, of the museum

However, don't expect the situation at the Barnes to be exactly as it was before From Paris to Provence. This is especially true, if you had the good fortune to visit this superb exhibition. 

Once you look in the mirror of a person's eyes and catch a glimpse of their soul - or a reflection of your own - things are never quite the same again.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                  

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

All works of art, unless otherwise noted are from the Barnes Foundation collection

Introductory Image:

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Detail of Pierre-August Renoir's Portrait of Jeanne Durand-Ruel, 1876.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin), 1889. Oil on canvas: 25 7/8 x 21 3/4 in. (65.7 x 55.2 cm).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Paris to Provence at the Barnes Foundation, showing four paintings by Vincent van Gogh: Still Life (1888), The Smoker (1888), The Postman (1889) and Houses and Figure (1890).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Paris to Provence at the Barnes Foundation, showing an example of a "cut-out" or "window" exhibition feature.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of the Winslow Homer: Crosscurrents exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) Postman Joseph Roulin, 1888. Oil on canvas: 32 x 25 3/4 in. (81.3 x 65.4 cm). Museum of Fine Arts Boston. 

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin, 1888. Oil on canvas: 25 9/16 x 19 7/8 in. (65 x 50.5cm). Detroit Institute of Art. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Paris to Provence exhibition, showing exhibition  entrance and Pierre-Auguste Renoir's Woman with a Fan.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Paris to Provence exhibition, showing Pierre-Auguste Renoir's Portrait of Jeanne Durand-Ruel, 1876.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Details of Renoir's Portrait of Jeanne Durand-Ruel, 1876. 44 7/8 x 29 1/8 in. (114 x 74 cm)  and Girl with a Jump Rope: Portrait of Delphine Legrand, 1876. Oil on canvas: 42 1/4 x 27 15/16 in. (107.3 x 71 cm) 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Cézanne's Madam Cézanne, 1888-1890. Oil on canvas: 36 1/2 × 28 3/4 in. (92.7 × 73 cm) 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Cézanne's Madam Cézanne with Her Hair Down, 1890. the collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Oil on canvas: 24 3/8 × 20 1/8 in. (61.9 × 51.1 cm) 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Installation view of the final gallery of From Paris to Provence, showing (from left) Modigliani's Girl with a Polka-Dot Blouse (1919), Soutine's Woman in Blue (1919) and Modigliani's Portrait of the Red-Headed Woman (1918).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Detail of portraits by Amadeo Modigliani and Chaim Soutine: Modigliani's Portrait of the Red-Headed Woman (1918). Oil on canvas: overall: 45 11/16 x 28 3/4 in. (116 x 73 cm); Modigliani's Girl with a Polka-Dot Blouse (1919). Oil on canvas: 45 1/2 x 28 3/4 in. (c 115.6 x 73 cm); Soutine's Woman in Blue (1919). Oil on canvas: 39 1/2 x 23 3/4 in. (100.3 x 60.3 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Visitors to the Barnes Foundation, viewing works of art in the Main Room, north wall, of the museum.