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| “Interior, Woman Reading,” an 1880 painting by Gustave Caillebotte |
For a smart guy, I can be pretty thick.
Let me explain.
For decades, I've been admiring Gustave Caillebotte's "Paris Street; Rainy Day" at the Art Institute. It's hard not to.
Yet never, in all the years I gazed at it, did I ever pause to think, "Heyyyy ... this guy's pretty good. I wonder what ELSE he's painted?" Not once.
That lapse was made painfully clear seeing the Caillebotte show — a sprawling, comprehensive exhibit, shifting Caillebotte from one-trick-pony to significant, complete artist, introducing a world that you — OK, me — never imaged.
I won't review the whole show — my colleague Kyle MacMillan did that marvelously. Just go.
Be sure to study the placards. Otherwise, you'll miss what's going on. Look at the picture above, "Interior, Woman Reading."
What's striking is the woman is the dominant figure, in the foreground, studying a newspaper, then a typically masculine activity. While the man is sprawled on the sofa, holding a novel, considered at the time a feminine vice. Caillebotte is playing with us, toying with our expectations.
The more things change ...
The Caillebotte exhibit, "Painting His World," is reason aplenty to visit the Art Institute. But there's an additional surprise that hasn't gotten the publicity it deserves.
I'm tempted to leave it at that. Stop reading now, go as a blank slate and then return after you've encountered it ...
I'll play the "Jeopardy" music:
Doo doo doo, doo-dah, doo doo doo...
You're back? Already?
That lapse was made painfully clear seeing the Caillebotte show — a sprawling, comprehensive exhibit, shifting Caillebotte from one-trick-pony to significant, complete artist, introducing a world that you — OK, me — never imaged.
I won't review the whole show — my colleague Kyle MacMillan did that marvelously. Just go.
Be sure to study the placards. Otherwise, you'll miss what's going on. Look at the picture above, "Interior, Woman Reading."
What's striking is the woman is the dominant figure, in the foreground, studying a newspaper, then a typically masculine activity. While the man is sprawled on the sofa, holding a novel, considered at the time a feminine vice. Caillebotte is playing with us, toying with our expectations.
The more things change ...
The Caillebotte exhibit, "Painting His World," is reason aplenty to visit the Art Institute. But there's an additional surprise that hasn't gotten the publicity it deserves.
I'm tempted to leave it at that. Stop reading now, go as a blank slate and then return after you've encountered it ...
I'll play the "Jeopardy" music:
Doo doo doo, doo-dah, doo doo doo...
You're back? Already?
On your way to the Caillebotte show, you usually pass through the Asian gallery. And there, along 100 feet of the south wall, is Raqib Shaw's "Paradise Lost." You stopped in your tracks and gaped. Don't feel bad. Everybody does.
How to describe it for those who cheated and kept reading? The life's journey of the Calcutta-born, Kashmir-raised, London-based artist. Conveyed in a wild allegorical explosion that defies description. The museum tries: "An epic and tumultuous journey that represents the very nature and breadth of human existence ..."
Raging seas, collapsing palaces, a horse wrestling a zebra, leopards, bears, placid baboons in a cherry tree — well, placid except the one strangling a fawn. Bejeweled, painted in automobile enamel using syringes and porcupine quills.
Dozens of visitors crowd around, stepping back, drawing in close. I'm deliberately not publishing photos.
How to describe it for those who cheated and kept reading? The life's journey of the Calcutta-born, Kashmir-raised, London-based artist. Conveyed in a wild allegorical explosion that defies description. The museum tries: "An epic and tumultuous journey that represents the very nature and breadth of human existence ..."
Raging seas, collapsing palaces, a horse wrestling a zebra, leopards, bears, placid baboons in a cherry tree — well, placid except the one strangling a fawn. Bejeweled, painted in automobile enamel using syringes and porcupine quills.
Dozens of visitors crowd around, stepping back, drawing in close. I'm deliberately not publishing photos.
"You have to see it," said Madhuvanti Ghose, associate curator of arts of Asia at the Art Institute. "Because no amount of photography actually captures the kind of details that your eye picks up."
To continue reading, click here.
I read an article that said that everywhere else this show was held it was called: "Caillebotte, Painting men" as he was apparently gay & preferred to paint men.
ReplyDeleteThat is indeed the title of the very expensive hardbound exhibition catalog. You can get a less expensive paperbound version from Amazon if you don't mind having the text in French. (I assume this is the Musee Dorsay's version).
DeleteI was already planning to ask my sister if we could walk over to the Art Institute to see the Gustave Caillebotte exhibit at our monthly lunch on the 20th. Now I'm really excited to see Raqib Shaw's Paradise Lost as well. Thank you so very much for today's column.
ReplyDeleteYour lovely sister will be delighted to take you to see both excellent exhibits.
DeleteInteresting that the reclining man is so incredibly small. It has nothing to do with perspective and distance, he's just plain tiny.
ReplyDeleteI’ve seen Shaw’s Paradise Lost twice now, and I intend to go back regularly as long as it’s here. I’m not sure you can stand there long enough to see the intricacies of everything he’s included in it, but your eye catches new things each time. It’s fascinating to me. —Becca
ReplyDeleteHope you were there on Saturday to see the hour-long dance program in front of and inspired by the Shaw, presented by Chicago‘s Natya Indian Dance Company. It drew a very good crowd and was wonderful to see up close.
ReplyDeleteI used to spend a lot ot time in art museums all over the US and Europe. Somewhere along the way my back and feet started to hurt, and museums slipped away. But, I don't want to miss these exhibits. Thank you for this article.
ReplyDeleteI' was quite intrigued when I happened on Shaw's "Paradise Lost." I didn't know it was just "on loan," so now I know I need to get back to see it again. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteHave you noticed ,there umbrella might have a collision
ReplyDeleteWhat I've always noticed is the smugness of their countenances...the vanity and the complacency. Yuppies...a century before the term was invented.
DeleteA rainy 1870s Paris...or an urban street in 2020s America. Baseball caps, T-shirts, and shorts have replaced top hats and long coats and long dresses.
Folks might dress down now, but the arrogance on faces hasn't changed.
If I may intrude, this is one definition of Arrogance: "Arrogant people often exhibit behaviors such as being condescending, dismissive of others' opinions, and unwilling to admit when they are wrong." I find the above opinion to be more "arrogant", "smug" and "dismissive" than anything in the Caillebotte painting. Neil's sophisticated expression of "admiration" for "Paris Street: Rainy Day" is spot on and much more accurate.
Delete"Dismissive" infers rejection or disdain, and implies something which isn't there. By labeling the "admiration" of Mister S for the artwork as being sophisticated, you appear to be labeling me as being provincial and artless. I stand by my opinion of those facial expressions. But hey, you're the art critic at EGD. You do you.
DeleteGrizz 65, my previous comments were aimed at you and I offer no apology. In a recent post you mentioned an artist friend. I believe it was C. Vincent Franco. He was one of my dearest friends. He would not have taken lightly what you said about Caillebotte. I'd love to have an in depth conversation with you about that. It is vital that we look at art within the context of its time and place. Our EGD host does exactly that. He educates us without limiting our imagination. For that reason, I ask that you dig deeper before passing judgement.
DeleteOkay gentlemen, let's not start sniping at one another.
DeleteYou probably knew him better than I did. Vince was a friend of mine because my wife and his wife, Diane were both painters, and were good friends. They shared studio space for a while in West Rogers Park, above a sporting goods store on Western Avenue.
DeleteVince was an interesting and a fascinating person. He had been a cadet at a military academy He was also a staunch St. Louis fan, and in the late Eighties, we would splurge on good seats behind the plate for Cub-Cardinal games. A far different experience than my normal home in the bleachers.
Vince was also an excellent chef, as I recall. He and his wife threw some great parties, at their place on Pensacola.. He made the best paella I have ever had. Maybe you were there, too.
But it's now going on 35 years since my divorce, and my departure from Chicago, and to the best of my recollection, we never had any serious discussions about art, or artists. He did once tell me that my wife was not a very good painter, and as he had taught at SAIC, I accepted that. You spoke of Vince in the past tense, so I am assuming he's no longer with us, and that makes me sad.
I didn't know him well enough, or long enough, to know what he would have thought about my comment. I guess we will just have to agree to disagree on that one. And once again...I was not passing judgment on Caillebotte...but on his subject matter. Hell, I don't even know the guy. Perhaps I should.