Showing posts with label Barnes Foundation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barnes Foundation. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

Art Eyewitness Looks at the Art Scene during 2025

 


Reflections on the Art Scene during 2025

Text by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

On September 17, 1787, after three contentious months of debate and compromise, the delegates of the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia affixed their signatures to the document which would soon become the framework of the government of the United States. As they did so, Benjamin Franklin made a short, candid remark, referring to the design of a radiant sun which decorated the chair from which George Washington had presided over the convention proceedings.



The Rising Sun Armchair
 (George Washington's chair at the Constitutional Convention of 1787)

Benjamin Franklin's "remark" has gone down in history. James Madison records the moment.

Doct FRANKLIN looking towards the Presidents Chair, at the back of which a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few members near him, that Painters had found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. I have said he, often and often in the course of the Session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that behind the President without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting: But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting Sun.



"A rising and not a setting sun."

These prophetic words shall set the tone for the Art Eyewitness 2025 reflections. This year's valedictory essay, more than earlier annual reviews, is as much a look forward, as it is a reappraisal of what transpired during the past twelve months. 

It's important, however, to attend to the first order of New Years business. Our reflections and prognostications must not cause us to forget the most important duty we owe to all those who touched our lives during 2025: gratitude.

Here at Art Eyewitness, we wish to thank all and sundry in the world of art. And in our "cup of kindness" for the old year, we are adding a wee, extra dram of appreciation for:



The reopening of the Frick Collection in its magnificent 5th Ave oasis of art.



The astounding "once in an eternity" exhibition at The Met, Divine Egypt.



A sojourn with the Etruscans at the Institute for the Study of the Ancient World.



An eye-opening visit to the world of Henri Rousseau at the Barnes Foundation.

So much to be thankful for ... and yet, with the passing year, so many sobering thoughts.

From an artistic standpoint, Benjamin Franklin's comments on the difficulty of artists "to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun" is extremely astute. It really is problematic, oftentimes, to discern in a picture whether it is "sun-up" or "sun-down" as the following photos attest.




Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Images of sunrise & sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Top, dawn, December 25, 2025, 7:38 AM. Bottom, dusk, December 14, 2025, 4:25 PM.

It is even harder to judge whether a nation or culture is flourishing or in decline. This was the cause of Franklin's anxiety during the debates on the Constitution. Many are in a similar, pensive mood in our troubled times.

Perhaps most difficult of all is the task of discovering if the art and literature of a society is enlightening or obscuring the issues of the "day" and of the deeper, more profound principles, foundational for the security and happiness of humanity across the ages.

With Franklin's "rising and not a setting sun" remark to guide us, let's focus our thoughts on past and future.

Of immediate concern, 2026 marks the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. The Constitutional Convention of 1787 was the culmination of the search for an equitable form of representative government which commenced with the 1776 Declaration of Independence. However, as John Adams noted, the real American Revolution had begun even earlier, in the "hearts and minds" of the American people.

Red letter dates like 1776 or 1787 are often very arbitrary benchmarks. Human beings, however, need such "signposts" in order to keep their cultural bearings. During the coming year, almost all major American museums will host some sort of an exhibition observing the Semiquincentennial

The American Folk Art Museum has announced two thoughtful exhibitions, both opening in April 2026: Folk Nation: Crafting Patriotism in the U.S. and Self-Made: A Century of Inventing Artists. 


Anonymous U.S. artist, Situation of America, 1848. 
(New York City skyline from the Brooklyn Docks across the East River.)
 Collection of the American Folk Art Museum, N.Y.C.

The populist nature of these two exhibitions is very much in keeping with the mission of the American Folk Art Museum. But these themes are also noteworthy of the diversified, yet "inclusive" content of many contemporary exhibitions. This is an issue which looms large in the coming year.

Instead of stressing the "from the many - one" bonds of American unity, many exhibitions now emphasize the importance of the individual artist or of social groups ignored or marginalized in the established narratives of history. It is important to give credit to all, of course. But that is easier said than done. 

In the coming year, there is likely to be considerable disagreement on what is the  true nature of art in a democratic society. Our art museums, hopefully, will be places where cooler heads and open hearts prevail. 

To safeguard art museums as common ground for humanity is certainly asking and expecting a lot from institutions whose hard-working staff members already labor with complex tasks and daunting deadlines. 

Yet, museums, "shrines of the muses", are not just buildings with pictures on their walls.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of the 19th century European painting galleries at The Met. At right is The Storm by the Pierre-Auguste Cot (1880).

Given the constraints of existing gallery space, the availability - or not - of important works on loan from other museums, the interest level of patrons and many another factor, mounting a successful exhibition can be fraught with difficulty. Often an exhibition of merit fails to achieve success in terms of visitor numbers for reasons beyond the control of its curators. 

A case in point was The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910, presented at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, April to July 2025.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 The entrance to The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910. The  camera comes from the collection of the Penumbra Foundation.

The New Art had much to recommend it. The design of the exhibit was visually enticing, with a number of vintage cameras to set the scene. There were superb photos on view, daguerreotypes, cartes de visite, stereographs and cyanotypes, by some of the early American masters of the lens, like Carleton Watkins.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910.

Finally, there was an important sub-theme of The New Art, namely that there are untapped riches in the photography produced in the American hinterlands beyond the celebrated studio of Matthew Brady.

Impressed though I was with The New Art, I had an uneasy, difficult-to-define "vibe" about it. I could not suppress the feeling that this exhibition was not going to achieve the full measure of success it deserved.

On July 18, 2025, The Met press office released its annual fiscal year report. FY25 was a very good year for The Met. Visitorship was 5.7 million for the year. The Met continued to make spectacular gains after the heart-rending events of 2020, when Covid-19 blighted the museum's 150th anniversary.

 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Sargent and Paris, showing Madame X.

Several 2025 Met exhibitions registered such phenomenal attendance numbers that these stats were noted in the press release. Sargent and Paris topped the list at 427,000 visitors with more than a week to go after the press release was made public. Very encouraging was the reception of Caspar David Friedrich: the Soul of Nature, 300,000 attending. Few exhibits of German art have ever played to such a packed audience in a U.S. museum.

Alas, The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910 was not listed among 
The Met's star performers for FY25. 

Might The New Art have done so, had it been presented in tandem with a complementary exhibition? The Morgan Library's Julia Margaret Cameron and Jane Austen exhibits, shown across the hall from each other in the Morgan-Stanley galleries, did exactly that.



Ed Voves, Photo (2025)
 Gallery views of Morgan Library & Museum exhibits, summer 2025. Arresting Beauty: Julia Margaret Cameron (left);
A Lively Mind: Jane Austen at 250.

Second guessing, like this, only goes so far. Though museum directors and curators are quick to praise colleagues, supporting staff, museum board members and patron institutions, there is no substitute for leadership. A museum with a strong CEO at the helm can navigate through rough seas; without, the museum is in danger of sinking.

During 2025, two incidents, each involving a major Philadelphia art institution, testified to the maritime metaphors, above, in striking fashion.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Thom Collins, executive director and president of the Barnes Foundation

In terms of a strong museum "helmsman", one could hardly find a better example than Thom Collins of the Barnes Foundation. Nor could a better time be found to acknowledge his achievements than 2025. 

This marked the tenth year of Collins' stewardship as executive director and president of the Barnes. It was also the centennial year of the formal opening of the Barnes as an educational institute, beginning on March 19, 1925. 

Controversy long plagued the Barnes Foundation, regarding who was admitted into the inner "sanctum" of its classical edifice in suburban Philadelphia - and who was rejected. It has been Collins' overarching mission to manage the Barnes as a public institution after it relocated to center city Philadelphia in 2012. 

At the same time, Collins was tasked with continuing the "Barnes Method" of art instruction and retaining the remarkable, if idiosyncratic, arrangement of art works. These are not minor concerns nor are they duties which other museum directors must face.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing
 Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin), 1889
 
Despite an abiding dedication to Dr. Barnes' methodology, the Barnes Foundation under Collins' direction is no longer a collection preserved in "amber." When the Henri Rousseau exhibition closes at the Barnes in February, it will travel to the Musée de l’Orangerie. A sizable contingent works by Rousseau from the Barnes collection will appear in the Paris version of the exhibition. It is the first time since the international showing of Barnes' masterworks in the 1990's that a major loan of paintings from the Barnes Foundation will occur.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of the Calder Garden's Museum, showing
 Alexander Calder's Jerusalem Stabile II, 1976.

The full extent of the leadership qualities of Thom Collins was revealed in 2025 by two significant events beyond the walls of the Barnes Foundation. 

On September 21, 2025, Calder Gardens, dedicated to the art of Alexander "Sandy" Calder (1898-1976), opened in Philadelphia. Located a short walk from the Barnes, the new museum will be managed by Collins and senior staff from the Barnes (though it will have its own curators). Lastly, Collins and the Barnes have been designated as the operating partner for The Pew Center for Arts & Heritage, taking the place  of the University of the Arts, which closed its doors in 2024.

Needless-to-say, Thom Collins at the Barnes has neither the time nor the occasion to ruminate about the difference between "a rising and not a setting sun." 

I wish I could write in the same positive fashion about the Philadelphia Art Museum. Sadly, indeed sorrowfully, I cannot do so.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 The East-front entrance of the Philadelphia Art Museum

On November 4, 2025, news reports began circulating that the Board of Trustees of the Philadelphia Art Museum had terminated the contract of the museum's CEO, Sasha Suda. It was, at first, a staggering announcement. But, on reflection, signs of deep trouble at the museum had become increasingly apparent.

The next day, Anne and I went to the scheduled press preview of Dreamtime, an ambitious exhibition devoted to Surrealism. Uncertainty and upset at the Philly museum were evident, confirmed by the amount of uncompleted prep work for Dreamtime. Noticeable too was the "beat the clock" determination of the exhibition design team, trying to finish assigning picture captions and mounting wall text before opening day. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Preparation for Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100 at the Philadelphia Art Museum. The painting, at left, is Le Double Secret by René Magritte. 

I have been to press previews before where work needed to be done, a "tweak" here, a "tweak" there. But never on this scale. It was a deeply distressing occasion, unlike any press preview I had ever attended. 

I am happy to say that the finished exhibition is a marvel for the eye and the mind. A special acknowledgement needs be paid to the curator of Dreamtime, Matthew Affron, truly an example of grace under pressure.

An Art Eyewitness review of Dreamtime will appear in the new year.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100
 at the Philadelphia Art Museum.

Less than a month before these events, Sasha Suda had announced a "rebranding" campaign, altering the name of the institution from the Philadelphia Museum of Art to the Philadelphia Art Museum. She did so on her own initiative and without the approval of the Board of Trustees. 

Suda's abrupt image change for the museum caught even members of the Board of Trustees off-guard. She explained her rationale in a publicity release:

The museum has unveiled a new brand that places Philadelphia front and center, celebrating the city's grit, creativity, and industrial heritage... The new identity reflects the museum's transformation into a more engaging and expansive institution."

Suda would have been more accurate in saying "expensive" rather than expansive. Ticket prices are now the same as at The Met and MOMA, $30, and food prices close to New York City levels. Closed galleries and controversial exhibit content have made for upsetting visits to the Philly museum.

Recently a guard approached us at the entrance to a photo gallery with a warning I never thought to hear: 

" Viewer discretion advised." 

These are serious problems which changing the logos on hats and coffee mugs in the gift shop is not going to address. Even replacing a museum CEO is not going to insure a welcoming environment for patrons, especially families with children.

What is true of the Philadelphia Art Museum is true of all museums. What is needed is a searching appraisal of museum culture, followed by affordable ticket prices and exhibitions which uphold core human values.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Philadelphia Art Museum merchandise, showing the new "brand" logo.

At this point in the annual Art Eyewitness essays, I try to conclude with upbeat, reassuring remarks. This year I will "make it a wrap" with one of the most beautiful and moving photos which Anne took during 2025. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)
 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, showing Tropical Forest with Monkeys, 1910 
 
This is an image worth a thousand words; a image worthy of America's 250th birthday; an image which calls to mind "a rising and not a setting sun."

***
Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                    

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2023) Image of Sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Photo taken on December 14, 2025, 4:26 PM.

The Rising Sun Armchair (George Washington’s Chair at the Constitutional Convention of 1787) Made by John Folwell in 1779. Mahogany, height: 153.5 cm, width: 77.5 cm, depth: 58.2 cm Independence Hall, Philadelphia, PA National Park Service (NPS)

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Frick Collection, showing paintings from The Progress of Love series by Jean-Honore Fragonard, 1770-71.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Detail of the Inner Coffin of Nauny, Third Intermediate period, ca. 1050 B.C. On view in the Divine Egypt exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Rethinking Etruria exhibition at ISAW.

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

Anne Lloyd, Photos (2025) Images of Sunrise and Sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Top, dawn, December 25, 2025, 7:38 AM. Bottom, dusk, December 14, 2025, 4:25 PM.

Anonymous U.S. artist. Situation of America, 1848. (New York City skyline from the Brooklyn Docks) Oil on wood panel: 34 x 58 1/8 x 1 3/8" (86.4 x 147.6 x 3.5 cm) Collection of the American Folk Art Museum, NYC.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) View of the 19th century European painting galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At right, is The Storm by the Pierre-Auguste Cot (1880).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The entrance to The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910. The camera comes from the collection of the Penumbra Foundation.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Sargent and Paris exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing Madame X.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery views of the Morgan Library and Museum exhibits, Summer 2025, Arresting Beauty: Julia Magaret Cameron  and A Lively Mind: Jane Austen.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Thom Collins, executive director and president of the Barnes Foundation.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Calder Garden's Museum, showing Alexander Calder's Jerusalem Stabile II, 1976.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The East-front entrance of the Philadelphia Art Museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Preparation for the Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100 exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Philadelphia Art Museum merchandise, showing the new "brand" logo.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing Henri Rousseau's Tropical Forrest with Monkeys, 1910.


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.