There are those who will scoff at a painting simply because its subject matter is recognizable, those who will proclaim that it just doesn’t “do anything new.” Although art that breaks boundaries, like Duchamp’s “Fountain” (in actuality, an inverted urinal), are vital in the flux of artistic movements, there is more to art than pure invention. Last Sunday, the Phillips Collection opened an exhibit of work by Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947). As an artist who could be pigeonholed as yet another impressionist or, equally, a classicist, Bonnard also presents a remarkable diversity of subject matter as well as explosive experimentation with color.
Although countless museums have featured exhibits of a similar nature, the Phillips Collection stands alone in its comprehensive portrayal of Bonnard’s work. Exhibit curator Elizabeth Hutton Turner sets out to reveal Bonnard as a deviant artist, assembling a sumptuous feast of exotic birds, nude women, sculptured bronze mirrors, self-portraits, domestic snapshots, mythological landscapes, album covers and more. Her point is clear. As Bonnard was typically classified as an early symbolist and late impressionist/colorist, Turner seeks to expose an artist whose use of color and daring graphic and compositional designs consistently characterize his work.
Bonnard originally pursued a career in law. However, in 1889 he achieved a lifelong foothold in the art world with the release of his prize-winning design for France Champagne. In these early lithographs, Bonnard’s break from his contemporaries is clear in his combination of image and letter into one composed unit. At the same time, Bonnard discovered his delight for color within the Nabi movement. Deriving their name from the Hebrew word for “prophet,” the Nabis searched for alternatives to popular Western notions of painting. From their innovations in style, Bonnard became a champion of late 19th-century Japanese art, employing their flat linear patterns, unconventional shapes and series and use of bright color in his own work. After encountering rice paper for the first time at a Parisian flea market, he returned home to plaster his walls with the gaudy patterns, claiming that this new medium made relief and texture obsolete. In one example, “Marabout and Four Frogs,” Bonnard coated a three-paneled fine screen with a brilliant magenta; he then painted a group of leafy-colored frogs leaping by silky white flowers in their escape from an approaching stork. Despite its conservative subject matter, the effect of the piece is pure energy.
Although the exhibit is manageable, delving into Bonnard’s range in subject matter and his work as a colorist proves difficult. Nonetheless, Marthe, his beloved model, mistress and later wife, cannot be ignored. The largest space of the exhibit boasts an ornate room half-filled with paintings of Marthe bathing. Unlike many artists of the early 20th century who also painted a number of nudes, Bonnard’s pieces of Marthe achieve a higher degree of eroticism and intimacy. Using opalescent tones and circular brushstrokes, the tub’s creamy porcelain melts into the aqua pastel of the water, and Marthe seems to bathe in a cloud. Constructed with slightly skewed horizontal lines, the onlooker feels like Bonnard himself, painting from the corner of the room.
Although Bonnard did not embrace one specific style, he did share the vision of many impressionists who interested themselves in capturing “snapshots” of everyday life. However, Bonnard extended his desire to draw “emotion from modest acts” in his concept of intimism. Quasi-voyeuristic, many of the collection’s paintings feature routine scenes in which the onlooker is suspiciously present. Dining tables, beds and bathtubs tilt warmly towards the viewer, creating a feeling of deep intimacy. Bonnard uses this sense of closeness to draw the viewer into his own world, to bottle the “seduction of the first idea.” For him, the purpose of painting was like that of a stage: to show the world his experience firsthand. In “Early Spring,” a panning view reveals a smear of two children playing in a garden, evoking the sensation that the viewer is watching from a car speeding down a country road. Similarly in “Circus Rider” (1894), a young woman in pink is caught by Bonnard as she gallops around a circus arena. Her audience’s expressions are blurred, the horse races off the canvas, and it seems almost as if the viewer too is riding.
Understanding an artist typically begins with viewing a work with a certain degree of relativism, cross-referencing the artist’s “period” with social trends, economic factors, etc. However, in the Phillips Collection, one meets Bonnard not through his relation to history but through an open window, a dog tumbling in the springtime grass, a woman pulling on her stockings. Through its substantial accumulation of sketches, lithographs, sculptures, black-and-white photographs and paintings, the exhibit showcases an artist whose “periods” evade characterization and whose work is classical only in its permanence.
Pierre Bonnard: Early & Late is showing through Jan. 19 at the Phillips Collection, 1600 21st St., N.W. Tickets are $8 for students, $10 for everyone else.
