Le Mont Riboudet Ă Rouen au printemps
“…Every day I discover even more beautiful things. It is intoxicating me, and I want to paint it all - my head is bursting…” – Claude Monet
“Despite Argenteuil’s many attractions, Monet’s abundant energy of early 1872 overflowed into other places and activities. It was probably at the behest of his brother, Leon, that he took part in the 23rd Rouen municipal exhibition in March… Monet was immensely prolific during his stay in Rouen. He no longer avoided the signs of industrialization, which are obvious enough in The Robec Stream and The Good Train. Déville, where Léon lived, on the outskirts of Rouen, became the subject of several paintings, and Monet also painted The Mont Riboudet in Rouen in Springtime (Le Mont Riboudet á Rouen au printemps), which was then still largely as nature had made it; it stands between Rouen and Déville.” 1 During much of 1870, Claude Monet was filled with more than the usual awareness of time, its passage, and mortality. In astrological terms, the year perfectly straddled the three-year influence of Saturn’s return to the celestial position of his birth. For Van Gogh that 29 ½ year natal confluence proved to be a high stakes decision to become a painter rather than a minister. But for Monet, fully committed to commercial success and with an eye on future posterity, events and circumstance would determine much about his private and professional future. Importantly, his responses would precipitate much of the dramatic changes in his approach to painting, changes that would determine that course of the celebrated movement that came to be known as Impressionism. Previously, he had painted markedly diverse subjects; portraiture and figural compositions, still life and floral paintings and landscapes, cityscapes and seascapes. His brushwork often lacked the smooth modeling considered de rigueur by Salon standards, but the tone and substance of the canvases weighed strongly toward masters a generation removed: Corot, Courbet, Jongkind and Boudin as well as the young compatriot often painting next to him, Frédéric Bazille. Landscape painting and its formal cousins, cityscapes and seascapes painted out-of-doors would predominate and Le Mont Riboudet á Rouen au printemps from his Argenteuil period the spring of 1872 is yet another pronouncement of a shift in his approach to painting. It is also an apt display of an artist’s exceptional prowess of observation and visual analysis — just the sort of painting that would prompt Cezanne to claim, “only an eye, but what an eye!” When Mm. Monet and Camille Léonie Doncienx exchanged vows after five years of what amounted to a de facto marriage, it did little to appease his father’s parochial ire over his son’s impropriety. Having lived with, and fathered a child by Camille, his model, mistress and muse since 1865, the 28 June 1870 marriage did serve however, to improve his chances of gaining a military exemption when the prospects for war between Prussia and France seemed all but certain. Monet had served before; in Algeria for more than a year beginning in April 1861. He was not keen on doing so again. Fortunately, for posterity’s sake, he beat a hasty retreat, decamped from French soil and avoided, perhaps, the fate of Frédéric Bazille, godfather to his son, Jean and whose generosity had saved his family from starving on numerous occasions and who died on the battlefield 28 November. As a self-imposed refugee, Monet’s time in England and Continental Europe was not up to his usual materially productive standards. In London, he produced a mere six canvases — all small — in seven months. As if to make for the deficit, he painted like a madman producing twenty-five in Holland at Zaandam — the latter painted in the manner of Jongkind or Image right: Claude Monet (1840-1926) photo by Nadar, 1887
Boudin and likely with an eye to salability. Yet when he returned to Paris after nearly a year-long absence, he returned a different painter, and conformity was not foremost in his mind. In fact, his time abroad should be considered among his most productive periods. Among the events that precipitated his new approach were two friendships he forged in London; principal among them, the momentous meeting of picture dealer Paul Durand-Ruel, introduced to him by painter Charles-Francois Daubigny. Of this most vital contributor to his commercial success Monet would later confess, “without him, we would have died of hunger…we owe him everything.” He also met with Camille Pissarro, the highly disciplined Corot disciple on several occasions. Ten years his senior, and not naturally inclined to break with convention, Pissarro did not paint with Monet in London. They did convene purposely to look at John Constable and Joseph Mallard William Turner paintings and watercolors at the South Kensington Museum (later the Victoria and Albert Museum). Both became enamored with Constable and Turner — the former for his broken brushstrokes, often in small touches which he scumbled over creating an impression of sparkling light enveloping the entire landscape; the latter for his dazzling displays of broadly applied paint, chromatic palette, and dramatic atmospheric effects. Turner, in particular, had been demonized often for applying paint in a sketchy-blotchy manner just as the emerging Impressionists would be. But Monet’s careful examination of these paintings —Turner in particular — struck Monet as an inspired example of what was possible. Truthfully, at this juncture Monet had already proven he was among the most daring young French artists. He had ventured into fresh painting territory when he and Renoir worked side-by-side in September 1869 along the banks of the Seine on the outskirts of Paris at the swimming and boating facility, la Grenouillére. There, under this veritable floating café, wavelets of the restlessly undulating river transported both artists to an as yet unrealized sphere of observational acumen. Wielding newly designed flat brushes, both painters loaded the relatively stiff bristles, thrusting at the canvas with dashed broken horizontal slabs of paint. They worked quickly, intent upon catching the glints of light on a highly reflective surface in continual motion and with a sense of urgency as if the moment might pass too quickly to catch it. Mere sketches perhaps, but the sense of immediacy and sensory veracity was undeniable. Balanced on a keen edge of aggressively applied broken brushwork, sumptuously rendered with grace and sensitivity, these paintings are considered by many to be the true nexus of Impressionist movement that followed. As for Turner’s influence, Monet faulted the master for his overtly theatrical, exuberant romanticism; all qualities antipathetic to his goals as a naturalistic painter. Still, Turner must have been a breathtaking revelation for him. Indeed, it is not farfetched to suggest Turner’s example inspired him to strive for similar effects (if only as a means to an end), and that his method for achieving these effects evolved from the realization that a layered technique requiring planning and patience in the manner of Old Masters during the Renaissance was necessary to achieve the desired effects. It meant building up layer upon layers of textured strokes with overlapping pigments that eventually become a mesmerizing mélange of such complexity that it becomes difficult to discern which lightly scumbled paint is on top and which is of a layer beneath.
Claude Monet (1840-1926) The Grenouillère, 1869 oil on canvas, 29 x 39 in. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Nevertheless, rather than patiently building up beguiling textures of layers of pigment, each allowed to dry, then layered yet again with still more flickering, broken dry brushwork, Monet most often painted out-of-doors, independent of the studio alla prima during the Argenteuil period (of which the Rouen visit of March, 1872 is a part). Indeed, Turner would be an intermittent, if vital influence throughout the period. Impression, soleil levnant, the iconic painting said to have inspired the naming of the movement, displays all the hallmarks of a canvas produced in a single, brief session of work and Le Mont Riboudet ĂĄ Rouen au printemps appears to share this working method. It has that palpable feeling of conveying the immediacy of the moment, spontaneously expressed, as accurate as it is poetic. The perspective, slightly elevated and looking across a deep-set stage to an ascending butte, rises gently above undulating planer bands of farmlands as if a wave frozen in earthly terrain. The air is soft, delicately ameliorating and translucent, offering reminders that the valley of the Seine has its own peculiar light and a micro-climate that is misty more often than not
in the mornings. The setting, more agrarian than pastoral, has obvious thematic commonality with artists such as Julies Bastien-Lepage, one of several painters associated with the naturalist or realist movement. Bastien-Lepage’s technique of virtually smearing pigment into uniform areas Monet would have considered anathema to his goals as a painter. Yet, he seems content here to work as if building a nest from the lessons of those more Salon-compliant artists he admired — Boudin, Corot, and Courbet; a painting that evinces the goals of a realist or naturalist painter who would never commit to composing a picture, rearranging nature as it were. Yet neither is Le Mont Riboudet á Rouen au printemps so far afield from the Argenteuil paintings of domestic and social pleasures of the bourgeoisie to come. It is an example one of Monet’s consistent traits; an honest interpretation of exactly what he saw, a portrait of an agrarian setting frozen in time. It is also something very painterly where the brushstrokes not only show his traceries, but an exacting example of Monet’s descriptive abilities in conveying the essence of formal elements accurately and without excess or wasted effort. Indeed, its painted articulations are a record of Monet’s prowess with a loaded brush. Le Mont Riboudet á Rouen au printemps is also notable as one of Monet’s early departures from strong contrasts of dark and light tones that would normally suggest light and shade. Painted in the stillness of a late spring morning, the light here is evenly distributed, the palette neither bright, unduly saturated, or expansive in its range of color and hue. It is late March, the solar seasonal arc is at the midpoint of its solstice peak and as suggested by the compressed length of shadows, the sun, unseen, rising in the southern sky toward the apogee of its daily path. Utilizing his tools of suppression and subtlety, the formal elements — the houses, their pitched roofs and chimneys and windows; the trees and haystacks and the composite fields of columns and rows and scattershot greens are all equally bathed in a softly defused light, each occupying an immutable place, gently, yet modeled with strength and thinly sketched outlining strokes to accentuate their three dimensionality. As staged, these formal elements are set upon a rather neutral substratum as if it were a pedestal; painted in their volumes and shapes accentuating the painting itself as a performance. There appear to be three figures present — two stooped, one standing — none of which have the gravitas of a Millet farm laborer, but neither of which are entirely incidental nor unwelcomed additions that lend an enhanced sense of scale. Not surprisingly, the great attraction of Rouen for Monet proved to be the quays along the Seine where big sailing ships docked after their great ocean voyages. As evidence of that fascination, eight of the eleven canvases are depictions of this nautical theme and only Le Mont Riboudet á Rouen au printemps is likely to be considered to be categorically landscape. Why did he choose this location? Courbet is said to have joked that his donkey selected his painting sites; whenever it stopped, he stopped and unloaded his easel, canvas, and tarps from the cart and begin analyzing the scene before him. That offhanded, casual approach for choosing a particular location for setting one’s easel lends a certain charm to this very uncontrived composition at Mount Riboudet. This spring morning, it is not difficult to image Claude disembarked from his brothers Leon’s Déville a few kilometers northwest of Rouens, intent again upon painting the long ships docked along the river quay. Instead, he turned his back on the Seine, intrigued by the possibilities of this deep, agrarian setting and in a poignant moment painted a landscape.
Today, the earthly features of Mount Riboudet described in March 1872 by the most trustworthy brush of his era are barely recognizable. Remnants of the name remain, acknowledged primarily as a short, yet significant avenue where you might shop for a Peugeot or an Audi. But echoes of that earlier time remain faint, or lost, and no more. In his time and thirty-one years of age, Monet painted this setting acutely aware of the urban and industrial development and sprawl to come. The simple agrarian setting and houses and structures rest upon the eye just as it had at the time of Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary said to take place between 1827 and 1846. Not surprisingly, Flaubert, a man born to Rouen, likely also stood and gazed across these fields to Mount Riboudet. For him, “Riboudet” provided homonym fodder to create a character of a well-recognized surname that afforded the opportunity to utilize a pun for the benefit of adding colorful depth to his characters’ personalities:
“You look out, Riboudet,” cried the priest in an angry voice: “I’ll warm your ears, you imp!” Then, turning to Emma. “He’s Boudet the carpenter’s son: his parents are well off and let him do just as he pleases. Yet he could learn very quickly if he would, for he is very sharp. And so sometimes for a joke I call him Riboudet (like the road one takes to go to Maromme), and I even say ‘Mon Riboudet.’ Ha! Ha! ‘Mont Riboudet,.’ The other day I repeated that jest to Monsignor, and he laughed at it; he condescended to laugh at it.”
Rouen continued to be a touchstone destination for Claude Monet throughout his life. Leon, his brother, maintained a principal residence at Déville-les-Rouen, Maromme until his death in 1917, a mere five kilometers northwest of the city center and the Rouen Cathedral, the subject of a series encompassing thirty studies of its facade would occupy Monet during much of 1892 and 1893. He painted them as if guided by a mentoring ghost from the past following in the footsteps of J. M. W. Turner who had set his easel at the same location and painted the cathedral sixty years earlier in 1832. Nearby, and of future and present significance, stands Musée des Beaux-Arts de Rouen founded in 1801 by Napoleon I. The institution would come to possess several Monet paintings including the first Cathedral study he painted; bequeathed by one of France’s great art collectors, Francois Depeaux, close friend of Leon who arranged to introduce the coal magnate to Claude. These are significant pages for telling the story of Claude Monet, and Mount Riboudet is among them in part because he would have passed this location repeatedly, forever reminded of the morning he chose to turn his back to his beloved Seine and painted the landscape before him. Purchased from Monet by Durand-Ruel in February 1873, the painting was subsequently owned by his good friend, Gustave Caillebotte, a fellow painter and a man of good taste. 1. Wildenstein, Daniel; Monet: or the Triumph of Impressionism (Köln, Germany, Taschen, 1996) page 96
Claude Monet (1840-1926) View of Rouen, 1872 oil on canvas Private collection
Image right top: Claude Monet (1840-1926) The Promenade at Argenteuil, 1872 oil on canvas, 19 1/2 x 25 1/2 in. National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C. Image right bottom: Claude Monet (1840-1926) The Grand Dock at Le Havre, 1872 oil on canvas, 24 x 31 3/4 in. Hermitage, St. Petersburg, Russia
Claude Monet (1840-1926) Le Mont Riboudet à Rouen au printemps oil on canvas 21 1/2 x 28 5/8 in. 1872 Provenance: Durand-Ruel, Paris, acquired from the artist in February 1873 Gustave Caillebotte, Paris, acquired from the above circa 1876 Martial Caillebotte, Paris, by descent from the above Albert Chardeau, Paris, by descent from the above Sale: Galliera, Paris, 12th June 1964, lot 94 Maurice Lehmann, Paris Lester Osterman, New York, acquired by 1971 Wildenstein Gallery, New York Private Collection, USA, acquired by 1975 Wildenstein Gallery, New York Private Collection, acquired from the above by the family of the present owner Literature: Henri Perruchot, ‘Scandale au Luxembourg’, in L’Œil, Paris, September 1955, discussed p. 45 C. Merrill Mount, Monet: A Biography, New York, 1966, discussed p. 226 D. Wildenstein, Claude Monet, Biographie et catalogue raisonné, Lausanne & Paris, 1974, vol. I, no. 216, illustrated, p. 209; vol. V, no. 216, listed p. 26 D. Wildenstein, Monet, Catalogue raisonné, Cologne, 1996, vol. II, no. 216, illustrated p. 96
Literature
D. Wildenstein, Monet, Catalogue raisonnĂŠ, Cologne, 1996, vol. II, no. 216, illustrated p. 96
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