I will never complain again. Ever. Never, ever. I won’t do it. Nope. Not even going to cross my mind. If you think you are having a difficult time pressing a shutter button to make your “art,” well then let me introduce you to Camille Pissarro, the “Father of Impressionism.” His degree of difficulty goes way beyond mine, even in my most challenging of times.
Let me set the table for Anka Muhlstein’s “Camille Pissarro: The Audacity of Impressionism.” First, let’s talk war. Pissarro and the rest of the Impressionist tribe are doing their thing when war comes to town. Some die, and others like Pissarro lose 1500 works from over a five-year period. Boom, start over. How about disease? Yep, that kills off a few more paint slingers and half their children. And forget about money. He never really has it his entire life. Nor do any of the others. And then there is the official Salon that refuses to let any of the Impressionists in on the little art party. So they have their own event which goes sideways, people are injured, cops come, a riot takes place, and one lucky loser is so put off by the work he walks outside and bites a passerby. The group folds. Their only art dealer goes belly up. And then Pissarro dies in agony and excruciating pain.
So, you want to be an artist. Man up Nancy, it ain’t easy.
But I want to return to a single word in the subtitle. “Audacity.” There it is but not in the way you might be thinking. I’ll say it, most of us lack audacity. And the type of audacity that gets promoted today is more stunt than actual audacity. Going downhill fast on a bicycle. A kid wrecking a Cybertruck for views. This isn’t audacity. This is stupidity. The Impressionists came with a specific type of audacious. A drive to make what they wanted to make in the face of near total denial. NOBODY said “Oh, hey, you should keep doing these soft paintings that nobody wants and critics hate.” NOBODY.
And they just kept making those paintings. Monet, Manet, Degas, Sisley, Cezanne, etc., etc. And right at the top was Pissarro who oddly enough didn’t see the kind of success the others would see. But even the slightly deranged Cezanne said “Nope, Pissarro is the man.” I loved this book, but I am completely jaded. I love Impressionism, and I love reading about artists of this period. Heck, I like reading about the world during this period. What a mess it was. Get it, read it.
Comments 12
What an inspiring post! I’m adding this work to my reading list! (How do you find the time to devour so many wonderful books??!!)
Author
Yo Johnny, I schedule my reading like a conference call or anything else. First thing in the morning mostly. And no social media.
Yikes! This sounds heavy, but it’s my kind of book. I’ve just requested it from our local library. I appreciate the suggestion, Dan!
Author
Anytime..
The audacity to be real… what a [beautiful, beautiful] concept!
Author
Yes. Isn’t it funny how far we have strayed?
…Stupidity, what a perfect word for these times. Don’t miss the forest for the trees…
Author
Stunts get views.
Monet was going blind in his last years but continued to paint those water Lillie’s. I too love the Impressionists, both for their art and their determination. Their message for today, I believe, is to know thyself and share the music in your heart (clicks and likes be damned), because it’s better to be hated for who you are than loved for who you aren’t.
Author
The music in the head….well said.
Can’t wait to read it! Thank you, Daniel.
Author
Yo Robbie! Makes me want to move to the French countryside.