Archive for the ‘Paris’ Category

L’aventure des Stein

Monday, December 19th, 2011

picasso

Matisse, Cézanne, Picasso… The Stein Family

5 October 2011 – 16 January 2012

An exhibition organized by the Rmn-Grand Palais, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

The Steins, an American family, moved to Paris in the early 20th century: Gertrude, an avant-garde writer, set up house with her brother Leo, in the rue de Fleurus; her elder brother Michael took a flat with his wife Sarah in the rue Madame. They were the first people to buy Matisses and Picassos and they also received the entire avant-garde into their homes and thus built up one of the most astonishing collections of modern art. The exhibition looks at the history of this out-of-the-ordinary family. It shows how important its patronage was for the artists and how it helped establish a new standard of taste in modern art, through Leo’s view of the sources of modernity and his exchanges with the intellectuals of the time; Gertrude’s friendship with Picasso; Sarah’s relations with Matisse; and the projects that Gertrude developed with artists in the 20s and 30s. It is a major exhibition bringing together an outstanding ensemble of works from the Steins’ various collections: Renoir, Cézanne, Picasso, Matisse, Manguin, Bonnard, Vallotton, Laurencin, Gris, Masson, Picabia…. The eight sections shed light on all the members of the family: Leo, Sarah and Michael, and Gertrude.

I “The Big Four”: Manet, Renoir, Degas and Cezanne, the Pillars of Modern Art. Leo Stein, a young American fascinated by European art, moved to Paris in 1902 and developed his eye through discussions with theorists and art historians such as Berenson and attending exhibitions in Paris at the beginning of the century. He formed his own collection based on a specific aesthetic: Manet, Degas, Renoir and Cézanne were the pillars of modern art.

II The Classical Tradition vs Modernity. Leo, joined by his sister, Gertrude, and then by his brother Michael and his wife Sarah, was the impetus behind their first purchases, which showed a taste for a classical form of modernity, descending from Manet and great Italian painting: Manguin, Vallotton, Maurice Denis, and Picassos from the blue and pink periods. He put together an astonishing collection on the classical theme of the reclining nude – including Matisse’s masterly Blue Nude, Souvenir of Biskra – which reminded him of the powerful scheme of Urbino’s Venus, revisited by Manet’s Olympia.

III The “Fauve” Revelation, 1905 Salon d’Automne. Leo bought Matisse’s La Femme au chapeau (Woman in a Hat), which had caused a scandal at the 1905 Salon d’Automne. It was emblematic of the Steins’ avant-garde approach to collecting. Sarah next bought Matisse’s La Raie verte (The Green Line), another of the misunderstood masterpieces from the mythical Salle des Fauves.

IV Saturdays at the Steins’. Michael and Sarah Stein lived with their son Allan at 58 de la rue Madame while Gertrude and Leo had an apartment at 27 rue de Fleurus. Both hosted salons which attracted the Parisian art scene: foreigners passing through and Parisian artists and intellectuals flocked to them, hoping to see the works of the two champions of the collection, Matisse and Picasso. Braque, Apollinaire, Picabia, Duchamp, Man Ray, Gris, Laurencin, Masson, as well as American writers, Hemingway, Sherwood Anderson, Fitzgerald… gathered there to see Matisse’s La Joie de vivre (Joy of Life) and Nu bleu de Biskra (Blue Nude, Biskra), Picasso’s Les Trois Femmes (Three Women) and Cézanne’s Portrait de Madame Cézanne.
La Joie de vivre and Nu bleu de Biskra, Picasso’s Les Trois Femmes and Cézanne’s Portrait de Madame Cézanne.

V Matisse. A Complete, Sensitive Collection. Sarah and Michael Stein became friends with Matisse and were the first great defenders of his art. They put together an outstanding collection before the First World War. Sarah persuaded Matisse to open an Academy and joined many other foreign artists in his classes. She supported Matisse’s determination to explain his art through writing and teaching. In 1914, the Steins agreed to lend nineteen of their finest canvases to Berlin, for an exhibition in Fritz Gurlitt’s Gallery. The war blocked their works in Germany and they were never recovered. In 1928 they moved into a villa that Le Corbusier built for them at Garches and lived there until 1935 when the rising fascist threat prompted their return to the United States.

VI Gertrude Stein and Picasso. Picasso offered to paint Gertrude Stein’s portrait in 1906 and they became close friends. That was when she began to write her monumental book, The Making of Americans, which was deeply influenced by Cézanne’s painting (especially the Portrait de Femme (Portrait of a Woman) which she bought from Vollard) and her discussions with Picasso. They were both keenly interested in realism and the object, and developed a relatively hermetic discourse – one was literary, based on repetition and the other was pictorial, based on the decomposition of volumes.
Gertrude and Leo both supported Picasso during his experimental work on Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, buying an outstanding book of studies and the large painting, Nu à la serviette (Nude with Towel), 1907. When brother and sister went their separate ways in 1913, Gertrude continued to buy Picasso’s Cubist paintings.

VII 1920-1930: Post-Cubism and the Neo-Romantics. After the war, the artists that the Steins had supported became very famous and financially out of reach. Gertrude Stein, who was close to Kahnweiler, nevertheless continued to support the post Cubist production of artists like Gris, Braque, Masson… in the 1920s. When Leo moved to Italy, and Michael and Sarah went back to San Francisco, Gertrude divided her time between Paris and her house at Bilignin (Ain). She defended a group of young painters, the neo-Humanists Francis Rose, Bérard, Tchelitchew, as well as the later work of Picabia, the “Transparents” and hyper realism. Before her death in 1946 she witnessed the emergence of informal abstraction with Atlan’s early works.

VIII Gertrude Stein, Portraits and Homage. Her engagement alongside her companion Alice Toklas with the American Red Cross during the war made Gertrude Stein a popular figure and her fame was amplified by the publication of The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas in 1933. The many portraits made of her (Vallotton, Cecil Beaton, Man Ray, Jo Davidson, Jacques Lipchitz, Dora Maar, Marcoussis, Picabia, Rose, Tchelitchew, Nadelman…) helped construct a myth.

Interested in reading more about the Steins? Check out The Steins collect : Matisse, Picasso, and the Parisian avant-garde edited by Janet Bishop, Cécile Debray, and Rebecca Rabinow.
Call #: 709.04 St37c [New non-fiction]

Down and Out in Paris

Tuesday, August 16th, 2011

down-and-out-in-paris-and-london

George Orwell published his autobiographical book Down and Out in Paris and London in 1933. Have things changed since then?

On the trail of George Orwell’s outcasts

By Emma Jane Kirby BBC News, Paris and London

Rue du Coq d'Or Orwell’s narration begins in the street he called the Rue du Coq d’Or, in the 5th Arrondissement, where he once lived

Some 80 years after George Orwell chronicled the lives of the hard-up and destitute in his book Down and Out in Paris and London, what has changed? Retracing the writer’s footsteps, Emma Jane Kirby finds the hallmarks of poverty identified by Orwell – addiction, exhaustion and, often, a quiet dignity – are as apparent now as they were then.

“Quarrels, and the desolate cries of street hawkers, and the shouts of children chasing-orange-peel over the cobbles, and at night loud singing and the sour reek of the refuse carts, made up the atmosphere of the street…. Poverty is what I’m writing about and I had my first contact with poverty in this slum.”

Such was George Orwell’s recollection of what he called the Rue du Coq d’Or in Paris, 1929 – the real-life Rue du Pot de Fer. Today it’s pleasure rather than poverty that defines the Latin Quarter that Orwell frequented 80-odd years ago. The chic pavement cafes are full of contented-looking people leisurely sipping their vin rose, and the air is perfumed by the sweet smell of crepes and tourists’ money.

But poverty hasn’t left Paris – she’s simply changed address. She may not look quite the same as she did in the 1920s but if Orwell were to meet her again on these streets, he’d know her straight away. And I doubt he’d find her greatly changed…

Poverty came knocking on Claudine’s door five years ago when she was made redundant. She leans in close to me as she talks, her right hand often rising to her mouth as if it wants to censor the words that her lips keep forming. “Tomber dans la misere” (falling into misery), is the phrase she whispers most and I notice her breath is sour like someone who diets or skips meals.

“We don’t eat lunch,” she tells me. “It’s just my little way of economising.” She nods down to her bulging shopping caddy. “It’s enough for my family’s dinner,” she says, “but not enough for two meals a day.”

Shame

Claudine and I are sitting in a big warehouse in the north of Paris, which serves as a food distribution centre for the city’s chronically poor. It reminds me of the sort of indoor market you find in the less salubrious quarters of former Soviet states – mountains of unbranded pasta and rice piled on tables, misshapen, anaemic-looking vegetables wilting in crates, biscuits and chocolate wrapped in such bland, stark white paper, that not even a child could be excited by its contents.

We watch the steady line of people, Europeans, Maghrebians and West Africans, methodically trudging from table to table, collecting their rations and stuffing them quickly into a pram hood or caddy. Despite the animated cheerfulness of the staff, I notice not one of the customers meets their eye as they take the food parcels.

Shame, Claudine – who is French – tells me, is what links everyone here. She’s told no-one that her weekly shop is a hand-out and she doubts anyone else here has admitted it either.

The secrecy that’s attached to poverty is one of the first things that struck Orwell.

“From the start,” he wrote, “it tangles you in a net of lies and even with the lies you can hardly manage it.”

Milly is fighting poverty with a fierce, indignant energy. A bilingual secretary from Cameroon, she is immaculately dressed and has the practised deportment of a society debutante.

In the drop-in centre where I meet her, she looks decidedly out of place next to the dusty, weary figures that are slumped beside her. Appearances, she tells me, are everything if one is to cling on to one’s dignity. She agrees to talk to me but only in a private room so that the other people here won’t realise that her situation is as bad as theirs. When the door closes she tells me that she’s homeless and last night she slept on a veranda.

Milly is facing deportation. She came here legally but after she fell ill and had to stop working, her carte de sejour – the papers that allow her to stay and work in France – were revoked. She admits that she is homesick but is terrified to return to Cameroon empty-handed. I ask her if her family know she’s homeless and she throws her hands up in the air and rolls her eyes in horror.

“It would kill them,” she tells me. “They would drop down dead with shame.”

Orwell the down and out

George Orwell

Orwell was born Eric Arthur Blair on 25 June 1903 in eastern India, the son of a British colonial civil servant. He was educated in England and, after he left Eton, joined the Indian Imperial Police in Burma, then a British colony.

He resigned in 1927 and decided to become a writer. In 1928, he moved to Paris where lack of success as a writer forced him into a series of menial jobs. He described his experiences in his first book, Down and Out in Paris and London, published in 1933.

In Paris, he washed dishes at the overpriced “Hotel X”, in a filthy, hot kitchen.

He met “eccentric people – people who have fallen into solitary, half-mad grooves of life and given up trying to be normal or decent”.

Continue reading Emma Jane Kirby’s report here.