Showing posts with label Maurice Denis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maurice Denis. Show all posts

Friday, November 8, 2019

Bonnard to Vuillard: Art of the Nabis at the Phillips Collection


Bonnard to Vuillard: the Intimate Poetry of Everyday Life  

 The Nabi Collection of Vicki and Roger Sant  

                                             
Phillips Collection, Washington D.C.
October 26, 2019 - January 26, 2020

Reviewed by Ed Voves
Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

The band of young French artists from the 1890's known as "Les Nabis" enjoy the unique distinction of having a group name which was not based on a derogatory remark by an art critic. Nor it originate in an over-intellectualized definition. "Nabis" means "Prophets" and it was a very appropriate name.  

The Nabi artists - Pierre Bonnard, Edouard Vuillard, Maurice Denis, Ker-Xavier Roussel, Félix Vallotton, Paul Ranson - launched new approaches to art during the last decade of the ninetheenth century. These Innovations heralded the advent of Modern Art.

The subject matter of the Nabis seems very much in keeping with that of Manet and the Impressionists. They too focused on the"heroism of modern life" and were enthralled with the unusual angles and cropping effects of Japanese prints. 

Unlike Manet, however, Bonnard, Vuillard and the other Nabis relinquished any lingering attachment to the École des Beaux Arts and the annual Salons. Despite the deceptive mildness of their subjects - mothers and children enjoying an afternoon in the garden, a colorfully-clad lady strolling past a bookshop window, a little girl carrying a basket of clean laundry - the Nabis were radicals in art and politics.



Félix Vallotton, Street Scene, 1895

It is fitting then, that the first exhibition devoted to the Nabis in many years should have recently opened at the Phillips Collection in Washington D.C. The Phillips Collection rightfully proclaims itself the first museum of Modern Art. It should also be noted that Duncan Phillips bought Nabi paintings, especially by Pierre Bonnard, as part of his wide-ranging collection mission.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) 
Gallery view of the Bonnard to Vuillard exhibition at the Phillips Collection

The Nabis are right at home in this wonderful D.C. museum. Indeed, the works of art on view in the exhibition have been pledged as a future gift to the Phillips.

These Nabi paintings, prints, screens, bronze sculptures, ceramics, stained glass and works of fabric art were collected by Vicki and Roger Sant, an art loving couple who were first introduced to "Les Nabis" during a Phillips-sponsored trip to France in 1993. Sadly, Vicki Sant died in 2018. This outstanding exhibition is truly a celebration of her love of art and devotion to sharing with fellow art lovers.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)
 Paul Ranson's Planter, 1896 

While in Paris, the Sants visited the exhibition, Nabis, 1888-1900. This was the last major exhibition to study the Nabis with a detailed, wide-ranging focus. A more recent display of several of the Nabi artists was held in 2001 at the Art Institute of Chicago and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York but was limited to decorative painting by Bonnard, Vuillard, Denis, and Roussel. Compared with art shows devoted to the Impressionists, Nabi exhibitions are very rare indeed.

The Nabis were an eclectic group, held together by a willingness to experiment. There was no single theme uniting them. Maurice Denis (1870-1943), a fervent Christian, devoted many of his paintings to incidents from the Bible, especially during the later part of his career. The Swiss-born Félix Vallotton (1865-1925) was a left-wing political radical. Although Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947) would later gain fame as the "last Impressionist," he did not slavishly follow Monet, Pissarro and Sisley by portraying the natural world as a "here and now" phenomenon.



Maurice Denis, The Musicians, c. 1895

The Nabis were one in a line of break-away groups of rebellious artists, beginning with the Pre-Raphaelites in Britain during the 1850's and reaching across Europe to "Secession" movements, notably Vienna in 1897 and Berlin a year later. In 1903, after the dynamism of the Nabis had largely run its course, Vallotton and Vuillard were to join yet another coalition of revolutionary artists, the Société du Salon d'automne.

The diversity of style exhibited by each of the Nabi artists, however, made creating a group identity a difficult proposition. Unifying factors certainly existed. The Nabis as a group focused upon the details of domestic life. The allure of vibrant color, especially when arranged in intricate patterns, was a constant factor in much of their work. 



Pierre Bonnard, Afternoon in the Garden, 1891

The Nabis also were part of the late-nineteenth century Symbolist movement. Nabi painting, like Symbolist poetry, attempted to represent inner being, the spiritual reality of our lives which is often much closer to hand than we realize.

In 1896, the French philosopher, Henri Bergson, published a major work entitled Substance and Symbol. Bergson explored the interaction of sensations and actions with the ways that people remember and conceptualize the events of their lives. At the same time, the Nabis created works of art with an almost visceral "feel" of fabrics, architectural details and flowers which also serve as touchstones of human experience.

It was a Symbolist poet, Henri Cazalis, who first dubbed the artists "Les Nabis." For Cazalis, the Hebrew word for prophet captured the essence of his friends' devotion to a new artistic dispensation. As the Old Testament prophets had demolished the idols confronting the ancient Israelites, so the iconoclastic young artists would cast down the golden calf of Salon art.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)
Édouard Vuillard's At La Divette, Cabourg: Annette Natanson, Lucy Hessel,                    and Miche Savoir at Breakfast,1913, reworked 1934

Bonnard, Vuillard: the Intimate Poetry of Everyday Life enables art lovers to appreciate the Nabis as a collective body of artists. Up to the moment of examining this superb exhibition at the Phillips, I was unable to do so.

In 2012, I visited the Jewish Museum in New York City, where I saw an excellent retrospective of the art of Édouard Vuillard (1868-1940). Over the years, I have also studied Bonnard's painting in one-man exhibits. In both cases, I was impressed with their technique, but puzzled by what seemed like an avoidance of contact with the dynamism of their times, particularly in the case of Vuillard. 



 Édouard Vuillard, Mother and Child, 1901

In his 1969 book, The Nabis and Their Period, Charles Chassé perceptively quoted from a contemporary account of Vuillard at work:

When Vuillard looked at a scene he did not half-close his eyes like so many painters who wished to preserve on their retina only the essential aspects of what they see; he ceaselessly registered the small details of things… He was enthusiastic about the kaleidoscope of the world, at the risk of repeating himself in an endless symphony like Ravel in his Bolero.

Chassé further noted that Vuillard became a successful portrait painter later in his career, yet retained his interest in the physical environment that was so notable of his Nabi years. He often painted his patrons with only the minimum of physical attributes necessary to establish their identity while depicting their surroundings in lavish detail.

"I don’t paint portraits,” Vuillard declared, “I paint people in their homes.”


    
                                                  Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)                                                        Édouard Vuillard's Interior with Red Bed or The Bridal Chamber, 1893 

This amazing statement should be rephrased: Vuilliard - and his fellow Nabis - painted people in their environments - right now! Most people, even art lovers, live in the moment, at this point of time. 


For this reason, the Nabis took the bold step of disregarding vanishing-point perspective, the key innovation of the Renaissance that defined Western painting when compared to  the art of other cultures. 

Nabi paintings, by contrast, purposely dispensed with depth of vision. Everything is located "in your face," to borrow a modern, often disagreeable expression. Far from creating art in a hermit-like atmosphere, Bonnard, Denis, Vuilliard and the other Nabis created works which were very much in the "here and now."

Along with their accomplishments in painting, the Nabis were masters of printmaking, sculpture and ceramics. Bonnard showed a special aptitude in utilizing screens as an artistic medium.



Pierre Bonnard, Stork and Four Frogs, c. 1889

The influence of Japanese art is obvious in Bonnard's three-panel screen, The Stork and Four Frogs. The color-drenched background, the delicate handling of flowers and ferns, the Stork's almost Zen-like meditative state, underscore the vital role of Japonisme for the art of the Nabis.

There is an intriguing connection to another kind of "screen." This testifies to the Nabis awareness of the experiments leading to the invention of cinematography during the same years as their group was flourishing. Bonnard was friends with the Lumière brothers, Auguste and Louis, who invented the first true motion picture camera in 1895. This led to the historic showing of the first film on December 28, 1895 to an audience in Paris. 
                                                                                                                                                                   
               
Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)
Detail of Pierre Bonnard's Stork and Four Frogs, c. 1889

Bonnard's Stork and the Four Frogs, based on a fable by Jean de la Fontaine, was painted six years earlier in 1889. There is, thus, no direct co-relation with the Lumière brothers' film premiere. Rather, there is a shared sense of fascination with movement. Bonnard depicts the frogs, not as four individuals, but rather as single animal engaged in a four-sequenced act of leaping.

In 1896, Bonnard created a painted screen which he used as the basis for an impressive, five-color lithograph. It was entitled Nannies’ Promenade, Frieze of Carriages. The four frames of the screen appear to show a horse-drawn cab in motion. The effect is similar to the effect of closely examining a roll of the Lumiere brothers’ pioneering film, Workers Leaving the Lumière Factory.



                                                   Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)                                             Pierre Bonnard's Nannies’ Promenade, Frieze of Carriages, c. 1889

Appearances are deceiving. Bonnard shows a cab stand, not a moving cab. The vehicles are parked and the drivers are waiting for customers. Movement there is, however, taking place in the foreground – the zone of action in almost all Nabi works of art. A mother and her bonnet-wearing daughter walk-along and two boys scamper past them rolling their hoops.

Nannies' Promenade or Frieze of Carriages evokes the tremendous vitality of urban life, just as the Lumiere brothers’ films did. Without being directly related to early cinematography, this magnificent work by Bonnard joined in the dynamic transition from static to motion picture art which occurred during the 1890’s.

Every art group, even the supremely individualistic Nabis, will have at least one "odd man out." For the Nabis, this was Ker-Xavier Roussel (1867-1944). Though his talent was never in doubt, Roussel's sense of timing often missed a beat. Early in the Nabi years, his works were largely dark in color tones, while later in his career he integrated mythological elements into his landscapes just a Symbolism and allegory were going out of style.

Roussel achieved perfect harmony with his design for the stained glass window which occupies a central place in the Phillips exhibition. 



                                               Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)                                          Gallery view of the Bonnard to Vuillard exhibition, 
     Ker-Xavier Roussel's The Garden, center 

Roussel designed the cartoon for The Garden in 1895, as part of a commission from the German-born art dealer, Siegfried Bing. Other members of the Nabi group, including Vuilliard and Bonnard, contributed cartoons for the series. Roussel's window, executed by the Tiffany Company, is one of the few to survive from Bing's ill-fated effort to promote the Nabis. Roussel achieved near perfection with this brilliant work, but sadly, French art patrons were unimpressed.


Ker-Xavier Roussel, The Garden, (design), 1894, created by Tiffany Co., 1895

Thanks to the brilliant collecting of Vicki and Roger Sant, the Nabis can be appreciated as individual artists of their era and as leaders of the vanguard of Modernism. The Phillips exhibition is, thus, key to helping us understand the revolution in the visual arts during the last years of the nineteenth century and the first decade of the twentieth.

Yet, bold though they were, the Nabis never broke-ranks with that defining expression of French culture: vive la différence!

Look for a moment at Bonnard’s 1896 sketch, The Little Laundry Girl. Open your eyes wide as Vuilliard did while painting. 

This exquisite, lively drawing shows the human spirit enduring and soaring,                        regardless of the circumstances of life. Lurching under the burden of her heavy basket of laundry, the young girl propels herself onward with determination, brio and a sense of style that is particularly Parisian.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)
Detail of Pierre Bonnard's,The Little Laundry Girl, 1896

There is no holding her back, La Petite Blanchisseuse, no keeping her down. She will find her own way forward and do it her way.

The Nabis did the same with their art. Whatever medium they chose for their work, the primacy of each Nabi artist's unique approach to art was paramount. Charles Chassé writes:

To the Nabis a picture had merit only when it possessed “style", that is to say when the artist had succeeded in changing the shape of the objects he was looking at and imposing on them contours or a color that expressed his own personality.

This is what we see displayed to such magnificent effect in the Phillips Collection exhibition, Bonnard to Vuilliard, the Intimate Poetry of Everyday Life.

Vive la différence!

***
Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved. Original photography by Anne Lloyd, all rights reserved.
Images courtesy of the Phillips Collection, Washington D.C.

Introductory Image:
Félix Vallotton (Swiss, 1865-1925) Passerby (Le Passante), 1897. Oil on cardboard: 
7 7/8 x 11 in. The Phillips Collection, Promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant.

Félix Vallotton (Swiss, 1865-1925) Scène de rue (Street Scene), 1895, Oil on cardboard,  10 1/4 x 13 3/8 in., The Phillips Collection, promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Gallery view of the Bonnard to Vuillard exhibition at the Phillips Collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019)  Paul Ranson's Planter, 1896. 

Maurice Denis, (French, 1870-1943) The Musicians, c. 1895. Oil on cardboard:

9 5/8 x 13 5/8 in. The Phillips Collection, Promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant.

Pierre Bonnard (French,1867-1947) Afternoon in the Garden (Après-midi au jardin),1891. Oil and pen and ink on canvas: 14 3/4 x 17 3/4 in. The Phillips Collection, Promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Édouard Vuillard's At La Divette, Cabourg: Annette Natanson, Lucy Hessel, and Miche Savoir at Breakfast,1913, reworked 1934.

Édouard Vuillard (French, 1868-1940) Mother and Child (Mère et enfant), 1901, Oil on cardboard, mounted on cradled panel, 20 1/8 x 19 3/4 in., The Phillips Collection, promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Édouard Vuillard's Interior with Red Bed or The Bridal Chamber, 1893.

Pierre Bonnard  (French,1867-1947) The Stork and Four Frogs (Le marabout et les quatre grenouilles), 1889, Three-panel screen; distemper on canvas, 62 3/4 x 21 1/2 in., The Phillips Collection, promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Detail of Pierre Bonnard's The Stork and Four Frogs, 1889.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Pierre Bonnard's Nannies’ Promenade, Frieze of Carriages, c. 1889.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Gallery view of the Bonnard to Vuillard exhibition, Ker-Xavier Roussel's The Garden, center.

Ker-Xavier Roussel (French 1867-1944) The Garden (Le Jardin),1894 (executed by Tiffany & Co. in 1895). Stained glass: 48 7/8 x 36 5/8 in. The Phillips Collection, Promised gift of Vicki and Roger Sant.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2019) Detail of Pierre Bonnard's The Little Laundry Girl, 1896.

Friday, December 9, 2016

Art Eyewitness Review: Mystical Landscapes: From Vincent Van Gogh to Emily Carr


Mystical Landscapes: From Vincent Van Gogh to Emily Carr

                                                                                                                       
Edited by Katherine Lochlan
Delmonico Books-Prestel/356 pages/$60
                      
Mystical Landscapes Exhibit
Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto  
October 22, 2016 - January 29, 2017

Reviewed by Ed Voves

In September 1888, Vincent van Gogh wrote to his brother, Theo, about his "tremendous need for, shall I say the word - for religion - so I go outside at night to paint the stars." 
This was the genesis of two of van Gogh's most famous paintings, The Starry Night over the Rhone, created at the time of his note to Theo, and the tumultuous, visionary Starry Night, painted less than a year later, in June 1889.

The Starry Night over the Rhone, from the collection of the Musée d'Orsay, Paris, is currently on display in a splendid exhibition at the Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto, Mystical Landscapes. The brilliant art and provocative ideas set forth in the exhibit are treated in an outstanding companion catalog, Mystical Landscapes: Vincent Van Gogh to Emily Carr.



Vincent van Gogh, The Starry Night over the Rhone, 1888

Van Gogh's search for religion led him to paint the constellation, Ursa major - commonly referred to as the Big Dipper. Glimmering above the Rhone River as it flows through the city of Arles in southern France, the star-filled sky evoked a sense of promise and purpose. 

Van Gogh, full of plans for his "Studio of the South," painted this scene which reflected his hopes for the future. Only a few months later, tragic disputes with Paul Gauguin triggered a shattering nervous breakdown.

Mystical Landscapes at the Art Gallery of Ontario shows that van Gogh's yearning for "shall I say the word - for religion" was part of a cultural quest known as Symbolism. Beginning in the 1880's and continuing to the years immediately before World War II, Symbolism was a search for "meaning." Artists probed the human soul and reflected upon the spiritual environment in which they - and we - live.  

Symbolism as an art movement included such a diversity of styles that is easy to think of it as an idiosyncratic sideshow of Modern Art. Yet, Symbolism was regarded by most artists of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries as a serious and sincere response to the troubles and challenges of the Industrial Age.

The exhibit Mystical Landscapes was conceived by Katherine Lochlan, one of the leading curators of the Art Gallery of Ontario. In her poignant introduction to the exhibit catalog, Lochlan notes that she experienced a spiritual awakening during a visit to Ireland. This motivated her to begin planning Mystical Landscapes. 

Several of the team of scholars who assisted Lochlan are members of the clergy. Their essays provide insights of enduring value. Especially valuable are reflections on the need to approach art  - and life - from the point of view of humility and contemplation. John Franklin, who teaches theology at the University of Toronto, comments on mysticism:

This is the way of unknowing. At the heart of this invitation to unknowing is the fact that God is not an object of human knowing. All efforts to include God as simply one more object for our human knowledge bank ultimately fail because of the uniqueness of the divine. 

Comprehending these theological concepts sometimes entails concerted effort on the part of readers. Franklin's essay, for instance, provides a detailed contrast of the two paths of mysticism. Cataphatic, the positive, proactive form of mysticism, takes place when God's presence is closely felt. Apophatic mysticism occurs in the "absence" of God, during the Dark Night of the Soul.

Van Gogh's experience of cataphatic and apophatic mysticism is graphically depicted in his Starry Night paintings. Other artists experienced pain and tragedy, too, like Charles-Marie Dulac who died, aged 33 in 1898, from lead-poisoning which he had contracted early in life while working in the wall paper industry. The dying Dulac was inspired to create stunning works of art based upon the poem by St. Francis of Assisi, Cantacle of the Creatures.

The art works on view in Mystical Landscapes range in date from the 1880's to the 1930's. Yet this impressive exhibit and the superb catalog, jointly published by Delmonico Books and Prestel Publishing, is a tract for our times. Indeed, it will remain relevant for a very long time to come.

The late Victorian era and the first decades of the twentieth century were marked by a crisis of faith. The heartless creed of Social Darwinism became the new "gospel," preempting the place of the four Evangelists. The seeds of spiritual doubt were sown by philosophers like Ernest Renan (1823-1892) who praised the historical Jesus while demythologizing Christ.

Reacting against these developments, artists and poets looked for signs, symbols, testaments to God's presence in the universe. Some artists, like Maurice Denis, remained devout Christians. Denis depicted traditional Christian imagery like Christ's "agony in the garden." Denis, however, placed this sacred scene in a contemporary setting. Gethsemane in his 1918 painting has been relocated to Brittany where a small vessel sails perilously close to the rocky shoreline.



Maurice Denis, La Solitude de Christ, 1918

Brittany was an interesting locale for Denis' La Solitude de Christ. This remote province had been the site of the artist's colony of Pont Aven, founded during the 1880's. It was in Brittany that Paul Gauguin first shaped the religious orientation of Symbolism with three stunning works on view in Mystical Landscapes.

Vision after the Sermon (1888), The Yellow Christ (1889) and Christ in the Garden of Olives (1889) combine Christian iconography with personal, some might say blasphemous, elements. Gauguin placed his own features in each of these works: on a Breton priest, on a statue of the crucified Christ and finally on the face of the suffering, agonized Jesus. 
This identification appears to be scandalous but actually reflects a mystical experience where God and believer become one. 



Paul Gauguin, Christ in the Garden of Olives, 1889

In a brilliant essay in the exhibit catalog, Gauguin's three paintings are interpreted as a triptych, created in a similar way to medieval works by Hans Memling and other masters of religious art. The noted  scholar, Bobomila Welsh-Ovcharov, also makes a convincing case that these paintings reflect the stages of spiritual searching. 

These steps would feature in the seminal 1911 book by Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness. Underhill's five steps - Awakening of Self, Purgation of Self, Illumination, Dark Night of the Soul and Unitive Life  - appear again and again in the paintings on display in Mystical Landscapes. 

I have yet to visit Mystical Landscapes exhibit. But when I did see Gauguin's three Breton paintings at an exhibit at the National Gallery of Art in 2011 the relation of these works to the stages of spiritual searching escaped me. Once the connection is grasped between the religious convictions of artists like Gauguin and the elements of their paintings, these works take on a whole new significance. They become "icons" in the true sense of the word.

Van Gogh found Gauguin's artistic approach to mysticism hard to accept. Van Gogh, raised a Protestant, believed  that spiritual encounters should be conveyed in "here and now" images not by "abstractions" as he described Gauguin's Breton paintings. While enduring a spiritual "Dark Night" at the Saint-Paul asylum in Saint-Rémy, he painted his markedly different version of the Garden of Olives. Here, a cloud (representing the Holy Spirit) drifts over the olive trees, signifying God's presence in our lives.



Vincent van Gogh, The Olive Trees, 1889

At first glance, van Gogh's choice of terms to describe his painting is hard to grasp. His mysterious cloud is more of an abstraction than Gauguin's identification with the face of Jesus. In a moving letter to Emil Bernard, a fellow artist and mutual friend of Gauguin, van Gogh advised against painting "sterile metaphysical meditations that aren't up to bottling chaos, which is chaotic for the very reason that it won't fit into any glass of our caliber..."

As I noted earlier, I am familiar with Gauguin's Breton triptych and I studied van Gogh's 
Starry Night over the Rhone at a 2008 exhibit at MOMA. But Mystical Landscapes presents works by major artists rarely seen in exhibits in the United States. We are introduced to unfamiliar artists like Eugène Jansson, the Swedish painter who brilliantly evoked the Dark Night of the Soul in several paintings. 



Eugène Jansson, Dawn over Riddarfjarden, 1899

In an exhibit that emphasizes the way of unknowing, it is a very good thing when we are introduced to new artists or have our assumptions challenged about artists we thought we knew.

In the case of Claude Monet, an unexpected spiritual dimension is explored in the essay on his Nympheas, the fabled Water Lilies.



Claude Monet, Water Lilies (Nymphéas), 1907

Most accounts simply accept that Monet was an atheist. Lochlan notes that Monet worked on the huge panel paintings of the water lilies after prolonged periods of meditation. 

"Monet spent so much time in contemplation," Lochlan writes, "that he entered into a mystical state that he compared to a hypnotic trance."

Learning about the Canadian painters featured in Mystical Landscapes was also a revelation. The spiritual power of Tom Thomson, the Group of Seven and especially the astonishing Emily Carr is certainly worthy of more study - and further exhibits "south of the border."                                                                                                                          
The experience of these Canadian artists was shaped by many factors, a number of which linked them to the mystical experiences of Symbolist artists in Europe and the United States. Walt Whitman's poetry. Ralph Waldo Emerson's transcendental philosophy and military service in World War I were powerful factors. So too were the Theosophical writings of Madam Blavatsky which Lawren Harris fervently embraced. 

Ultimately, it was the Canadian landscape that lead Tom Thomson, Harris, Emily Carr and the others to approach God from the "way of unknowing." Vast, breathtakingly beautiful and still (relatively) undeveloped, Canada in the 1920's inspired these Canadian artists. 



Emily Carr, Sky (ciel), 1935-6

Writing in her journal, Emily Carr placed into words what she had visualized with brush and paint - the mystical landscape within all our souls. 

We are of the same substance for there is only one substance. God is all there is. There is one life, God life, that flows through all. He that formed me formed you. Oh Father of all raise my consciousness to that sense of oneness with the universal.

Mystical Landscapes will travel to the Musée d'Orsay, Paris, in the spring of 2017. It will not, sadly, be making a stop-over in the U.S. But thanks to the wonderful catalog, I have profited immensely by journeying to this exhibition in spirit.

***
Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved 
Images courtesy of the Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto

Introductory Image:                                                                                                         
Edvard Munch (Norwegian,1863-1944) The Sun,1910-13. Oil on canvas, 162 x 205 cm. Collection of the Munch Museum, Oslo. Image courtesy of Munch Museum 

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) The Starry Night over the Rhone, 1888. Oil on canvas, 73 x 92 cm. Collection of Musée d’Orsay Image courtesy the Musee d'Orsay, Paris, France/Bridgeman Images 

Maurice Denis (French, 1870-1943) La Solitude de Christ, 1918. Oil on canvas, 88 x 136 cm. Private Collection 

Paul Gauguin (French, 1848-1903) Christ in the Garden of Olives, 1889. Oil on canvas, 73 x 93 cm. Norton Museum of Art, Gift of Elizabeth C. Norton

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) The Olive Trees,1889. Oil on canvas, 72.6 x 91.4 cm. The Museum of Modern Art, New York Mrs. John Hay Whitney Bequest, 1998 
© The Museum of Modern Art / Licensed by SCALA / Art Resource, NY 

Eugène Jansson (Swedish 1862-1915) Dawn over Riddarfjarden, 1899. Oil on canvas, 150 x 201 cm. Collection of Prins Eugens Waldemarsudde 

Claude Monet (French, 1840-1926) Water Lilies (Nymphéas), 1907. Oil on canvas, 80.98 x 92.07  cm. Museum of Fine Arts, Houston Gift of Mrs. Harry C. Hanszen Courtesy Bridgeman Images 

Emily Carr (Canadian, 1871-1945) Sky (ciel), 1935-6. Oil on wove paper, 58.7 x 90.7 cm. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, Purchased, 1937