Showing posts with label Glazed Ceramics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Glazed Ceramics. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Art Eyewitness Review: Firing the Imagination: Japanese Influence on French Ceramics, 1860-1910 at the Philadelphia Museum of Art

 

Firing the Imagination:
Japanese Influence on French Ceramics, 1860-1910

Philadelphia Museum of Art
 August 31, 2024-August 17, 2015

Reviewed by Ed Voves
Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

Firing the Imagination is an intriguing exhibition which surveys the influence of Japanese artistic conventions on French ceramics during the age of Impressionism. Currently on view in the Colket Gallery of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (PMA), the exhibit provides new insights on the impact of Japonisme on decorative arts and craft, rather than exclusively on Impressionist painting.

The Colket Gallery, I recently discovered, is named for Tristram Colket, a  grandson of John Dorrance, the Campbell's Soup Company founder. Mr. Colket, who died in 2020, was a generous supporter of numerous worthy causes. But he was quiet, low-keyed benefactor, whose name did not often figure in newspaper headlines or advertisements. 

By a curious twist of circumstance, a similar lack of name recognition applies to the ceramic artists whose exquisite works are displayed in Firing the Imagination.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Art works from the Firing the Imagination exhibit.
 At left, is a vase made by Théodore Deck & decorated by Marie-Caroline-Eléonore Escallier, c. 1870; at right, is a vase by Auguste Jean, 1885

Claude Monet, Edgar Degas and Paul Cezanne need no introduction. The same does not hold true for the remarkably long list of "potters" whose plates, vases, bowels and jardinieres grace the walls and display cases of the Colket Gallery. 

Edmund Lachenal, Ernest Chaplet, Joseph-Théodore Deck, Albert-Louis Dammouse - do these names sound familiar? Until I began visiting Firing the Imagination, I am chagrined to admit that I had not heard of a single one of these masters of art pottery.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
A selection of ceramic plates decorated with Japanese motifs, made in France by Felix Bracquemond and the J. Viellard Co., c. 1875-1880.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition,
 showing a display of works by Edmund Lachenal, Léon Parvillée and other French ceramic artists of the late 19th century

How these beautiful Japanese-inspires ceramics found their way to the Colket Gallery is a fascinating story. It is a brilliant instance of "niche' collecting.

A New Jersey school teacher named Larry A. Simms focused his attention and financial resources on building a representative collection of works by overlooked Belle Epoque ceramic artists. With commendable generosity, Mr. Simms has donated much of his collection to the PMA. This is a major addition to the Philly Museum's impressive holdings of French nineteenth century art, brilliantly complementing its Impressionist paintings and Rodin sculptures.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition
 in the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Colket Gallery

Of the artists collected by Simms, only one approaches the renown of the Impressionist painters. This is Felix Bracquemond, whose major claim to fame is his role as one of France's leading print makers. Bracquemond also designed Japonisme-inspired dinnerware including the "Parisian" and  "Rousseau" dinner services. Both are on view in the exhibit. Yet Bracquemomd's work in ceramics is often accorded only minimal attention. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Gallery view of Firing the Imaginationwith ceramic dinner ware, designed by Felix Bracquemond & others displayed on the walls.

Why painters, especially those working in oils, should be accorded precedence above artists engaged in other media is a question too weighty to be discussed here. But one aspect of the debate should be noted. Ceramic artists devoted themselves to a very dangerous form of creative enterprise. Until the 1970's, the glazes used to paint the various types of ceramic ware were lead-based. Inhaling the fumes during the heating process or touching dust-covered surfaces in the work room have claimed many a potter's life. 

Creating ceramics, therefore, is not a genteel, leisure pursuit. Even in today's safer conditions, it is an exacting discipline. There is plenty of hard labor involved and "brain work" too. One of the thematic displays of Firing the Imagination deals with the difficulty of using volatile, hard-to-control red glazes. 

As the exhibit wall text notes, European artists and chemists made concerted efforts during the late nineteenth century to "replicate the prized colors and surface effects of Japanese and Chinese ceramics." They were especially determined to match the deep red brown which the French called sang de boeuf, ox-blood.

Ernest Chaplet (1835-1909) led the way in developing a durable sang de boeuf glaze, for which he won a gold medal at the 1889 Paris World's Fair. Chaplet was a major innovator in the science of ceramics, though it should be noted that trying to get "just the right tone" of red still poses a challenge for potters.

A strikingly modern porcelain vase by Chaplet, drenched in sang de boeuf and dating close to the time of his award-winning success, is on view in the exhibition. If asked to date this magnificent vase, I would have thought that it had been created during the 1990's - or just yesterday!



Ernest Chaplet, Porcelain vase with sang de boeuf glaze, c. 1889

Equally impressive are examples of small vases which were glazed with traces of sang de boeuf, used to accentuate the other glaze hues. When such subtle color effects were applied to simplified, yet elegantly shaped pieces, as shown below, a true liberation of color and form occurred. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
A selection of small vases, glazed with accents of sang-de-boeuf. The vase, second from left, was made by Théodore Deck. All others were created by Albert-Louis Dammouse.

There are several dramatic story lines to Firing the Imagination which the wall texts explain in cogent and understandable terms. The ceramic objects d'art which we see in the exhibition testify to experiments in science, especially chemistry, as well as attempts to represent nature in tangible formats similar to what the Impressionist painters were doing in two dimensions. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Glazed-stoneware dish, made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1900

A perfect illustration of this desire to "honor" nature is a glazed-stoneware dish, shaped like a lily-pad. It was created by Albert-Louis Dammouse around 1900, at the same time that Claude Monet was laying-out his water-gardens at Giverny. 

It is ironic that the French ceramics displayed in Firing the Imagination should have played an important role in the rise of the aesthetic of Modernism. It did not start out that way back in the 1860's when Japanese prints, followed soon after by Japanese craft objects, first reached Europe. 



Page view from Hokusai Gafu, vol. 1, 1849, an important source book for French artists, including Albert-Louis Dammouse & Felix Bracquemond

The amazement and exhilaration of European artists and the art-appreciating public in the West was so intense upon seeing the "floating world" images of Hokusai and Hiroshige that the immediate reaction was simply to imitate Japanese art. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Plate made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1874, 
with decorative imagery based on a drawing by Hokusai, 1849

As a consequence of this enthusiasm for the art of  the "land of the rising sun", many of the ceramic plates and vases on view in Firing the Imagination appear to be authentically Japanese. In fact, not one was made in Japan. All are examples of French decorative art, though very much in l'esprit du Japon



In the case of the design for the parasol-carrying Japanese lady, Albert-Louis Dammouse borrowed this directly from a book of Katsushika Hokusai's prints (shown above). This book was the Hokusai Gafu, Volume 1, published in 1849. This publication date is important because it preceded the arrival of the U.S. Navy squadron which "opened" Japan's doors to the West in 1853. 

Hokusai Gafu was intended for a Japanese audience but it was perfectly timed to "fire" the imagination of Albert-Louis Dammouse, who transposed the parasol-carrying lady from a rainy landscape to a sparkling, blossom-strewn dinner plate.

Felix Bracquemond was similarly smitten by Hokusai's image and he lifted it, almost without alteration to the elegant vase below. If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Japanese masters like Hokusai should have been very flattered.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Felix Bracquemond's Vase, c. 1875

Real artists of talent and vision are never content to merely imitate. Very soon, French artists were drawing upon the Japanese aesthetic to create new art forms. Some of these, like the sang de boeuf-glazed vases, discussed earlier, helped set the trajectory of decorative arts towards the future.

Other French artists like Edmund Lachenel and Léon Parvillée, used Japanese motifs as a passport to realms of whimsy and wonderment that defy precise categorization - and are all the more enjoyable for just that reason. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
From left, Léon Parvillée's Figure of a Guardian Lion, c. 1880;
 Edmund Lachenal's Vase, c. 1885

Léon Parvillée was a multi talented French architect who worked in the Middle East for many years, restoring historic buildings. Parvillée's spirited rendition of a Chinese guardian lion, popularly known as a "fu dog", certainly captured the ethos of the orient. But closer inspection reveals more than a touch of Gallic bravado in this feisty temple guard. The brilliant handling of the blue and yellow glazes is impressive, as well.

What Edmund Lachenal (1855-1930) intended to represent with the cheerfully bizarre vase, shown to the right of Parvillée's fu dog, is anyone's guess. The vase, shaped like a bottle gourd, was created around 1885. A gourd of the type known in Japan as a hyotan, it is symbolical of longevity and success. 

The two winged dragons, squaring-off on the gleaming blue surface of the vase are perhaps more indicative of the deep interior well into which Lachenal cast for ideas and inspiration. The winged-dragons are an indelible icon of East Asia, but here, in Lachenal's treatment, they breathe the air - and fire - of his French imagination.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Edmund Lachenal's Vase (detail), c. 1885

From a conventional potter's apprenticeship, with Théodore Deck, Lachenel went on to become France's leading Art Nouveau potter. His individuality and originality could not be contained, even by the vast riches of Japonisme

The "show-stopper" of Firing the Imagination demonstrates to perfection how Lachenal and his colleagues drew inspiration from Japanese art and then in a process of personal alchemy - which is the essence of all art - created something new, something magical, something unforgettable.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)
Edmund Lachenal's Vase in the Form of a Lantern, c. 1895

Lachenal's Vase in the Form of a Lantern is an homage to Japanese art and culture. But it is also a personal statement and a manifesto on behalf of all artists. Lachenal shows here that inspiration is only the beginning. Like the cheeky little bat hovering over the lantern's crinkled surface, Edmund Lachenal was determined to flap his creative wings - and did.



Thanks to the collecting genius and generosity of Larry Sims and this remarkable exhibition at the PMA, a vital chapter of French art has been brought to life. Little known ceramic artists have finally been given their due. And the imaginations of those fortunate to visit the Colket Gallery have been touched with fire.



***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                   

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Unless otherwise noted. all art works are from the Philadelphia Museum of Art Collection, by gift of Mr. Larry A. Simms

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Art works from the Firing the Imagination exhibit. At left, is a vase made by Théodore Deck & decorated by Marie-Caroline-Eléonore Escallier, c. 1870. Earthenware with underglaze and enamel decoration: 10 ½ x 9 7/8 inches (26.7 x 25.1 cm); at right, is a vase by Auguste Jean, 1885. Glazed earthenware. Larry A. Simms collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) A selection of ceramic plates decorated with Japanese motifs, made in France by Felix Bracquemond and the J. Viellard Co., c. 1875-1880.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition, showing a display of works by Edmund Lachenal, Léon Parvillée and other French ceramic artists of the late 19th century

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition in the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Colket Gallery.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of Firing the Imagination, with ceramic dinner ware, designed by Felix Bracquemond & others displayed on the walls.

Ernest Chaplet (French,1835-1909) Porcelain vase with sang de boeuf glaze, c. 1889. Porcelain: 11 ¾ x 10 x 10 inches ( 29.8 x 25.4 x 25.4 cm, Philadelphia Museum of Art photo.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) A selection of small vases, glazed with accents of sang-de-boeuf. The vase, second from left, was made by Théodore Deck (Porcelain: 6 x 4 inches (15.2 x 10.2 cm.). All others were created by Albert-Louis Dammouse.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Glazed-stoneware dish, made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1900. Diameter: 13 3/4 inches (34.9 cm)

Katsushika Hokusai Page view from Hokusai Gafu, vol. 1, 1849, an important source book for French artists, including Albert-Louis Dammouse & Felix Bracquemond. Open access image from Smithsonian digital library book.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Plate made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1874, with decorative imagery based on a drawing by Hokusai, 1849. Hard paste porcelain:  (diameter) 9 1/2 inches (24.1 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Felix Bracquemond's Vase, c. 1875. Made for Haviland & Co. Limoges, France.  Porcelain with hand-painted transfer images. Larry A. Simms collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) From left, Léon Parvillée's Figure of a Guardian Lion, c. 1880, Glazed earthenware: 8 1/4 × 9 × 5 inches (20.9 × 22.9 × 12.7 cm); Edmund Lachenal's Vase, c. 1885. Glazed earthenware: 17 3/4 × 8 3/4 × 7 inches (45.1 × 22.2 × 17.8 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Edmund Lachenal's Vase (detail), c. 1885

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Edmund Lachenal's Vase in the Form of a Lantern, c. 1895. Height: 11 1/4 inches (28.6 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition in the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Colket Gallery

 

 





Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia



Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema


Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia, PA.
May 6, 2018 -  September 3, 2018


Reviewed by Ed Voves
Photos by Anne Lloyd

If Jean Renoir had not been shot by a German soldier in April 1915, the new exhibit at the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia most likely would not have been presented. This may seem to be a heartless remark. Renoir himself, in the extraordinary book he later wrote,  acknowledged his "debt" to the Bavarian sharpshooter who fired the nearly fatal bullet.

As a result of his brush with death, Renoir received six months home leave to recuperate. During this "time-off" from World War I, Renoir spent many delightful and inspired hours talking to his elderly father, the great Impressionist painter, Pierre-Auguste Renoir.

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day.

So Shakespeare wrote in Henry V, Act IV, Scene iii.

Despite being crippled by rheumatoid arthritis and confined to a wheelchair, Pierre-Auguste Renoir did not forget. He remembered the details of his amazing life and the pivotal role he played in the rise of Impressionism. 


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Detail of Photo of Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Jean Renoir
Original Photo was taken by Pierre Bonnard, c. 1916


These memories he recounted to his son, a wounded soldier of the Great War. At the end of his long career as one of the pioneering directors of French cinema, Jean Renoir produced an extraordinary recollection of his own, Renoir, My Father, published in 1962.

The Barnes exhibit recreates the lifelong process by which the younger Renoir came to terms with the creative legacy of the elder. The debt he owed his father was considerable. 

Jean Renoir is quoted as saying that “I have spent my life trying to determine the extent of the influence of my father upon me.” 

This influence was a matter of inspiration, not emulation. Rather than be stunted by the mighty-oak shadow of his father, Jean Renoir did not try his hand as a painter. Rather, he grew in stature as an artist in his own right, a master of a different medium, film making.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Gallery view of  the Renoir: Father and Son exhibition 
Painting at left is Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s Les Baigneuses (The Bathers), 1919

This father-son partnership is illustrated from the very first display of the Barnes exhibit. This is a video excerpt of Jean Renoir's 1936 film Partie de campagne (A Day in the Country). Based on a short story by Guy de Maupassant (who was a friend of Pierre-Auguste Renoir) it tells the story of an innocent Sunday excursion which becomes the occasion for seduction.

The key scene - the subject of the Barnes video loop  - shows a beautiful young woman, Henriette Dufour (played by Sylvia Bataille), swaying back-and-forth on a swing. Two debonair sportsmen spy her from the window of a country inn where they are having lunch. Their appetites quickly shift from scrambled eggs with tarragon to Henriette on the swing.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Film frame from Jean Renoir’s A Day in the Country, 1936/1946, Courtesy of the Criterion Collection & Janus Films

Fifty years before Jean Renoir filmed A Day in the Country, Pierre-Auguste Renoir had painted The Swing. Here a young woman stands on a swing, accompanied by two admiring men and an adoring little girl. One of the men looks out from the picture and, meeting our gaze, draws us into the sun-dappled grove. There we join him, his companions and the beribboned beauty in a truly magical moment.




Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Detail views of Renoir's The Swing (1876) 

In a tremendous coup, the Barnes secured the loan of this iconic work of art for the Renoir: Father and Son exhibit. As a result, visitors to the exhibition can move but a few feet from viewing a masterpiece of French cinema to studying an icon of Impressionism.

The points of contrast between the film scene and the painting are as important and fascinating as the similarities. When Jean Renoir filmed A Day in the Country during the summer of 1936, France was in the midst of the left-wing Popular Front agitation which contributed to the disaster of 1940. The film is a wistful look backward at what appears to be a more balanced and relaxed way of life.

In 1876, when Pierre-Auguste Renoir painted The Swing, France was beginning to recover from the disastrous war with Germany in 1870-71. The idyllic scene promotes a feeling of recuperation as a nation. This was to prove a short-lived interval. The collapse in 1882 of a fraudulent investment bank triggered a nation-wide "panic." Durand-Ruel, the agent for Renoir and his fellow Impressionists was only saved from bankruptcy by American sales. This financial disaster was quickly followed by political instability climaxing in the Dreyfus Affair. 

The era of the Impressionists was thus much like the tumultuous 1930's when Jean Renoir was making his classic films. How fitting then was the fate of A Day in the Country which was not released until 1946 because of production difficulties and the outbreak of World War Two. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Sylvie Patry, Consulting Curator of the Barnes Foundation
After this brilliant beginning, the Barnes exhibition proceeds to examine the intertwined lives of the Renoirs, father and son. Since the Barnes collection has 181 Renoir paintings, many of them on view in the collection galleries, there is no need to recount the full story of the great Impressionist. Rather, the paintings on view in the exhibition illustrate the bonds of affection and the exchange of ideas between father and son.

By Jean's birth in 1894, Pierre-Auguste Renoir spent most of his time in the south of France in order to cope with the physical challenges imposed by arthritis. Unable to travel or even grasp his paint brushes to execute fine details on commissioned portraits, Renoir painted what was close at hand - local young women posing as models and his children, especially young Jean. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Gallery view of Renoir: Father and Son

A series of portraits of Jean shows him growing from an infant to a handsome adolescent posing in hunting gear. Pierre-Auguste Renoir was a great admirer of eighteenth century art. By dressing Jean as Pierrot,  Renoir acknowledged the great artist Jean-Antoine Watteau (1684-1721), whose wonderful painting of Pierrot has long been one of the highlights of the Louvre.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Detail of Renoir’s The White Pierrot, 1901/1902

As Jean Renoir matured into a capable, cultured young man, he searched for his own artistic medium on which to devote his talents. At first, he tried his hand at ceramics and the results are astonishing. Dr. Albert Barnes, who was a devoted collector of his father's paintings, purchased forty pieces of Jean's hand-painted ceramic ware




 Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018), Earthenware Vase by Jean Renoir, 1922

These relatively unknown works are a highlight of the Barnes exhibit. Most are painted in a vibrant French country motif. This exquisite vase, however, evokes the Arcadia-like atmosphere which the crippled Pierre-Auguste sought to convey in his final paintings. 

Creating hand-crafted ceramics is a hard way to make a living. By a unique chain of events, Jean Renoir became involved in the French film industry. During the 1920's, he began directing silent films, followed in the 1930's by his "talkies." Renoir's classic trilogy, A Day in the Country (1936/1946), Grand Illusions (1937) and The Rules of the Game (1939) raised cinema to a level that has seldom been surpassed.

A number of the costumes from Jean Renoir's films are displayed in the Barnes exhibit. One of the dresses has an incredible, indeed exaggerated, trailing skirt. This is a reproduction of a costume from Renoir's silent film version of Emil Zola's Nana (1926). I don't know if it was by chance or by design but when my wife, Anne, took a picture of the "train" of this dress, reflections of a railroad sequence from Renoir's The Human Beast (1938) glimmered on the display case. It was another magical moment in an enchanting exhibition.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Costume (reproduction) from Jean Renoir's Nana

The most magical moment in the exhibition came when I viewed a film clip of Pierre-Auguste Renoir with the art dealer, Ambroise Vollard.  I had seen this clip once, years ago, in an exhibit devoted to Vollard's amazing career. Now, once again seeing the aged Renoir, clearly in pain, yet bursting with creative vigor, I was able to appreciate the film sequence even more.


     
 Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Film frame from Pierre-Auguste Renoir: Painter, 1920 Silent Film produced by Gaumont Actualities
This life force, what the French during the World War I era called elan vital,was the great gift which the elder Renoir gave to his wounded son during his six months of convalescence. It lasted Jean Renoir a lifetime, during which he shared this gift with the world. 
In an extraordinary passage from Renoir, My Father, Jean Renoir described his father's elan vital:

Renoir's conception of life as a state of being rather than an undertaking seems to me an essential explanation of his character, of his art. I should add that this attitude was a joyous one, and that each stage of his life was for him marked by amazing discoveries. He looked at the world with continual astonishment, a feeling of surprise which he made no effort to hide. I saw my father suffer absolute martyrdom, but never saw him looking bored.

You too will enjoy many moments of joy, astonishment and inspiration at the Barnes Foundation exhibit, Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema. And if you follow the example of Jean Renoir, the creative force, the elan vital, that is present in the exhibition galleries will inspire you as well.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                               
 Photos courtesy of the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia. PA, and Anne Lloyd

I
ntroductory Image:

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (French, 1841-1919) La balançoire (The Swing), 1876. Oil on canvas. H. 92 ; L. 73 cm Musée d'Orsay, Paris. Gustave Caillebotte Bequest, 1894. © Musée d'Orsay

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Detail of photo, Auguste and Jean Renoir, taken by Pierre Bonnard, c. 1916. Original photo in the collection of the Musée d'Orsay, Paris.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Gallery view of the Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema exhibit at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia PA.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Film frame from Jean Renoir’s Partie de Campagne (A Day in the Country), 1936/1946. Produced by Les Films du Pantheon. Courtesy of the Criterion Collection and Janus Films.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Detail views of Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s La balançoire (The Swing), 1876.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Sylvie Patry, Consulting Curator of the Barnes Foundation at the press preview of the Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema exhibit.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Gallery view of the Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema exhibit at the Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Detail views of Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s The White Pierrot, 1901-02. Oil on canvas. 79.1 × 61.9 cm Collection of the Detroit Institute of Arts

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Vase by Jean Renoir, 1922. Earthenware with polychrome decoration over tin-glaze. The Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia, PA.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Gallery view of the Renoir: Father and Son/Painting and Cinema exhibit, showing a reproduction of a costume from the 1926 film, Nana, directed by Jean Renoir.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2018) Film frame from Pierre-Auguste Renoir: artiste-peinture (Pierre-Auguste Renoir: Painter), 1920. Produced by Gaumont Actualities. Distributed by Gaumont Pathé Archives.