Showing posts with label Chaïm Soutine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chaïm Soutine. Show all posts

Saturday, September 6, 2025

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.

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

Art Eyewitness Review: Soutine / de Kooning at the Barnes Foundation

        

  Soutine / de Kooning: Conversations in Paint 

The Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia
March 7- August 8, 2021

Reviewed by Ed Voves

February 1943 was hardly a promising time to mount an art exhibition. World War II had been raging since September 1939 and there was no end in sight. George Keller, the owner of the Bignou Gallery in New York City, persevered, opening A Selection of Paintings of the Twentieth Century on February 8th, 1943.

The Bignou exhibit was to prove to be a landmark event, though few could have realized it at the time. Two of the twentieth century's most controversial and talented painters were exhibited together for the first time: Chaïm Soutine and Willem de Kooning. It was the start of an artistic exchange which would influence the development of visual expression in the postwar world, especially in the United States.

March 2021 is not exactly a propitious moment for opening an international exhibition, either. Despite the continuing Covid-19 pandemic, the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia and the Musées d’Orsay et de l’Orangerie in Paris are collaborating on an ambitious exhibit, Soutine / de Kooning: Conversations in Paint. This joint-effort opens first at the Barnes before moving on to the Musée de l’Orangerie in the autumn of 2021.

With 45 paintings on view, plus several historic documents from the archives of the Barnes Foundation, Soutine / de Kooning is a "focused" exhibition. Under normal circumstances, Claire Bernardi, Curator at the Musée d’Orsay, and Simonetta Fraquelli, Curator for the Barnes Foundation, would each be accorded well-deserved accolades and the exhibit would receive an honorable mention in the art press.

Given current difficulties of travel and transport due to Covid-19, Soutine / de Kooning deserves much more than a polite round of applause. A major collaborative undertaking, the exhibition involved levels of detailed planning and organization far in excess of pre-Covid days. 



Unknown Photographer, Chaïm Soutine, 1927


Kay Bell Reynal, Willem de Kooning, c. 1952.

Why such extraordinary efforts were devoted to an exhibition about Soutine and de Kooning, however, needs to be considered. The two artists never met and there are major differences in their approach to art. De Kooning was certainly an admirer of Soutine, declaring in 1977, "I’ve always been crazy about Soutine - all of his paintings." Beyond that rather tenuous bond of approval, there would seem to be little upon which to base a joint appraisal of their careers.

Enter Dr. Albert C. Barnes. 

In 1922, the founder of the Barnes Foundation visited Paris to purchase works of art for his growing collection. According to Barnes' recollections, he spotted a painting by Soutine in a Paris bistro. His agent, Paul Guillaume, directed him to Soutine's dealer, Leopold Zborowski. Barnes purchased fifty-two of Soutine's works from Zborowski and from Guillaume for a combined expenditure of 37,600 francs. 

The career of Chaïm Soutine was at a low ebb when Dr. Barnes put him at the top of his shopping list. Soutine was still reeling from the death of his great friend and mentor, Amadeo Modilgliani, in 1920. Born in 1893 in Belarus, Soutine had come to Paris just before the outbreak of World War I. Enduring extreme poverty, Soutine haunted the galleries of the Louvre, absorbing the lessons of the Old Masters, especially Rembrandt.

 


Chaïm Soutine, Side of Beef with a Calf’s Head, c. 1925 

Soutine devoted himself to perfecting his signature style, fluid brush strokes and bold coloration, which he applied to intriguing portraits of working-class Parisians and to landscapes which seem perpetually shattered by earthquakes.

 


 Chaïm Soutine, Landscape, c. 1922–24

Dr. Barnes' huge purchase established Soutine as a major figure in Modernism, though he remained an "outsider" on several counts. Soutine held himself aloof from Surrealism and, though devoted to the classical traditions of European art, he was not a protagonist in the "return to order" movement which followed World War I. As an Eastern European Jew, Soutine was vulnerable to the escalating danger of anti-Semitism. 



Ed Voves, Photo (2021) Self-Portrait by Chaïm Soutine, 1918

Yet, Soutine's reputation was well-established by the late 1920's and Barnes added to his standing by comparing him to Cezanne and Van Gogh in his 1925 book, The Art in Painting. Barnes also resold some of his paintings by Soutine, but this actually worked to Soutine's benefit as his oeuvre now became available to a wider audience. One of those interested onlookers was Willem de Kooning (1904-1997).

The superb exhibition catalog contends that de Kooning likely viewed works by Soutine for the first time in 1930 at the just-opened Museum of Modern Art. He is definitely known to have examined works by Braque and Picasso at the MOMA exhibit, Painting in Paris, from American Collections, which displayed three works by Soutine.

De Kooning had come to the U.S. from the Netherlands as a stowaway on a cargo ship in 1926. He worked odd-jobs, just as Soutine had done in Paris. Whenever he could, de Kooning visited museums and galleries in New York City. Of special significance were his museum jaunts with Arshile Gorky, who befriended him as Modigliani had embraced Soutine.

Soutine's paintings were shown in the U.S. with increasing regularity during the 1930's. De Kooning, thus, had plenty of opportunity to study Soutine's oeuvre. Dr. Barnes' patronage of Soutine continued to be an important factor. Barnes helped to organize a solo show of Soutine at the Bignou Gallery which immediately followed the joint display of Soutine's and de Kooning's works in 1943, mentioned above.

During these years, de Kooning constantly sought to "find" himself as an artist. Unlike Soutine, he never created a signature style. More importantly, like Soutine, he refused to be defined by the prevailing trends and "isms" of the art scene.

“Art," de Kooning famously declared, "should not have to be a certain way.”

Soutine / de Kooning: Conversations in Paint brilliantly explores the effect of Soutine's art upon de Kooning. The exhibition surveys de Kooning's work in a general chronological timeline while Soutine's paintings are shown thematically, as they made an impact on de Kooning.

The "influence," be it noted, was not one directional. Soutine died in 1943, desperately ill and in grave danger of arrest by the Gestapo. It is almost certain that he never heard of de Kooning. Yet, Soutine's stature as an artist is heightened by the degree of appreciation which de Kooning accorded to his work. 

Unlike de Kooning, I was never "crazy about Soutine." To me, his portraits seemed to retreat to the shadows of a gallery when those by Modigliani were also on view. But when I spent time with the assembly of "everyday" people painted by Soutine in the present exhibit at the Barnes, I was greatly moved. 



Chaïm Soutine, The Little Pastry Cook, 1922–23 

Shy, anxious, tired, searching, apprehensive, Soutine's pastry chefs, waiters and altar boys came into focus. I finally "got" Soutine's message. 

The fact that there were no portraits by Modigliani on view did not make a difference. Rather, it was the removal of any kind of distracting context or commentary which was important. In each of these portraits, Soutine painted a person, not a type. To Parisian society, these were insignificant, "little" people. To Soutine, who had worked for a time as a "bell hop", they were people who mattered.

The key inspirational point of Soutine's portraits derives from his resolute emphasis on individuation. But these portraits are also complex, psychologically-layered works, not easily approached by another artist seeking to interpret them according to his own vision.



Willem de Kooning, Queen of Hearts, 1943–46

De Kooning labored during the 1940's on a series of strikingly-colored portraits, like Queen of Hearts, above. These works, however, have a curious feel of remaining uncompleted, of struggling to come into their own as individuals - and falling short of the mark. 

During the years immediately following World War II, de Kooning finally achieved success with Abstract Expressionist works like Excavation (1950). This secured him a place in the elite ranks of the New York School, but he almost immediately distanced himself from "Ab Ex" by returning to painting portraits - or rather to "anti-portraits."

These of course are de Kooning's Woman paintings from the early 1950's. These works alarmed, angered, baffled and bemused almost everybody during the "Fifties". The examples on view in the Barnes exhibition show that they have lost none of their unsettling qualities, over a half century later.

What was de Kooning aiming at with the Woman series? Was there a thematic progression in the paintings, a developing sequence of meaning or message? If so, it is hard to trace.



Willem de Kooning, Woman II, 1952

Woman II, painted in 1952, is almost a benign being, with an enigmatic smile and animated eyes, in comparison with the Gorgon-like frightfulness of Woman I. A year later, de Kooning raked-up the embers of ferocity and grotesque humor with Woman (1953). This was followed by an almost complete negation of humanity with Woman as Landscape (1954-55).

The critical debate on the Woman paintings continues, de Kooning having made a less-than definitive statement of his goals. The essays in the exhibition catalog treat this controversial phase of de Kooning's career with lucid insight. In terms of this review, it is enough to note that de Kooning's engagement with Soutine's oeuvre was at its peak during the years he devoted to the Woman series.

In 1950, MOMA mounted a major retrospective of Soutine's paintings, with many in the New York School quick to salute him as a pioneer of "Ab Ex". Two years later, de Kooning and his wife, Elaine, visited the Barnes Foundation, then located in the Philadelphia suburbs, to examine the Soutines which Dr. Barnes had purchased three decades earlier. De Kooning was struggling with Woman I and II. Studying Soutine's paintings at the Barnes led to a major breakthrough. De Kooning recalled this moment of inspiration:

I remember when I first saw the Soutines in the Barnes collection. In one room there were two long walls, one all Matisse and the other all Soutine - the larger paintings. With such bright and vivid colors, the Matisses had a light of their own, but the Soutines had a glow that came from within the paintings - it was another kind of light.

"A glow that came from within" the paintings! What an absolutely marvelous image - verbal and visual!

This "glow" was something that de Kooning had to see for himself when he ventured to the Barnes Foundation to study the Soutines. This "glow" is certainly In de Kooning's works, too, especially in the abstract landscapes and "untitled" works which preoccupied him after he completed the Woman series in 1955. 



Willem de Kooning, Untitled XIII, 1975

The "glow from within" in de Kooning's paintings is almost impossible to appreciate when looking at a book illustration, even high quality color representations, as appear in the Soutine / de Kooning catalog. Seeing them, up-close and in-person, is a different story. I discovered this when I went to the massive, "once-in-a-lifetime" retrospective of de Kooning's art presented by MOMA in 2011. I was staggered by the experience, in a way that was - and is - difficult for me to articulate.

This brings us back to the importance of the Soutine / de Kooning exhibition. Not only does the exhibit illumine a little-studied chapter of art history, but it enables art lovers to join in the "conversation in paint" between Soutine and de Kooning. 



Ed Voves, Photo (2021)
Gallery view of the Soutine / de Kooning exhibit,  
showing Willem de Kooning's Amityville, 1971

Without the opportunity to directly engage with art, the most vital link in the creative process is shattered. Thanks to the joint efforts of the curatorial teams of the Barnes and the Orangerie, that link has been reforged. 

As I walked around the galleries of Soutine / de Kooning at the Barnes, I could feel the "glow from within" being rekindled. It was there in the works of art by Soutine and de Kooning and, now, it was sparking to life in the minds and hearts of people like me, who were blessed with the opportunity to visit for the press preview.


Ed Voves, Photo (2021)
Willem de Kooning's Woman in Landscape III, 1968,
on view at the Soutine / de Kooning exhibition

This was a moment to savor, an opportunity to reflect on de Kooning's definition of the nature of art, one of the simplest, yet most profound, statements that I know of:

“What you do when you paint, you take a brush full of paint, get paint on the picture, and you have fate.”

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved   Gallery Photos: Copyright of Ed Voves                                                                                         

Introductory Image:                                                                                      Ed Voves, Photo (2021) Gallery view of the Soutine / de Kooning exhibit at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia, showing Willem de Kooning's Composition, 1955. Oil, enamel and charcoal on canvas: 79 1/2 inches x 69 1/2 inches, Guggenheim Museum collection, New York.

Unknown Photographer. Chaïm Soutine with a chicken hanging in front of a broken brick wall, Le Blanc, France, 1927 Photo Courtesy Klüver/Martin Archive 

Kay Bell Reynal, Photographer. Willem de Kooning with a state of Woman I, c. 1952.  Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC Artwork © 2021 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Chaïm Soutine French, b. Russia (1893-1943) Side of Beef with a Calf’s Head, c. 1925. Oil on canvas, 36 1/4 x 28 3/4 in. (92 x 73 cm)  Musée de l'Orangerie, Paris. Jean Walter and Paul Guillaume Collection. Artwork © 2021 Artist Rights Society (ARS). New York Image © RMN-Grand Palais / Art Resource, NY

Chaïm Soutine  (French, b. Russia, 1893-1943) Landscape, c. 1922–24. Oil on canvas, 36¼ × 259⁄16 in. (92 × 65 cm) Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris. Jean Walter and Paul Guillaume Collection. Artwork © 2021 Artist Rights Society (ARS). New York Image © Peter Willi / Bridgeman Images 

Ed Voves, Photo (2021) Self-Portrait by Chaïm Soutine, 1918. Oil on canvas: 21 1/2 inches x 18 inches. The Henry Rose Pearlman foundation on loan since 1976 to the Princeton University Art Museum.

Chaïm Soutine (French, b. Russia, 1893-1943) The Little Pastry Cook, 1922–23. Oil on canvas: 28¾ × 21¼ in. (73 × 54 cm) Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris. Jean Walter and Paul Guillaume Collection. Artwork © 2021 Artist Rights Society (ARS). New York, Image © RMN-Grand Palais / Art Resource, NY  

Willem de Kooning (American, b. Netherlands, 1904-1997) Queen of Hearts, 1943–46. Oil and charcoal on fiberboard: 46⅛ × 27⅝ in. (117 × 70 cm). Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC. Gift of the Joseph H. Hirshhorn Foundation, 1966. Artwork © 2021 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Image by Lee Stalsworth, Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden.

Willem de Kooning (American, b. Netherlands, 1904-1997) Woman II, 1952. Oil on canvas: 59 × 43 in. (149.9 × 109.3 cm) The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Gift of Blanchette Hooker Rockefeller, 1955. Artwork © 2021 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, Image © The Museum of Modern Art/Licensed by SCALA / Art Resource, NY 

Willem de Kooning (American, b. Netherlands, 1904-1997) Untitled XIII, 1975. Oil on canvas: 87¼ × 77 in. (221.6 × 195.6 cm) Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven. Katharine Ordway Collection Artwork © 2021 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York  Image © Yale University Art Gallery, 2010

Ed Voves, Photo (2021) Gallery view of the Soutine / de Kooning exhibit at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia, showing Willem de Kooning's Amityville, 1971. Oil on canvas: 80 x 70. inches. Private collection

Ed Voves, Photo (2021) Gallery view of the Soutine / de Kooning exhibit at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia, showing Willem de Kooning's Woman in Landscape III, 1968: Oil on canvas: 63 1/2 x 42  1/2 inches. Whitney Museum of American Art, New York.