Saturday, March 17, 2018

Portraits of Women by Édouard Vuillard

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Vuillard
1888
drawing
Art Institute of Chicago

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Vuillard in profile
ca. 1888
oil on canvas
Art Institute of Chicago

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Vuillard reading, standing by a window
1893
oil on panel
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Arthur Fontaine in a pink shawl
1903
gouache and oil on cardboard
Art Institute of Chicago

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Hessel au sofa
ca. 1900-1901
oil on cardboard
Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool

In Paris

Today as we walk in Paris I promise to focus
More on the sights before us than on the woman
We noticed yesterday in the photograph at the print shop,
The slender brunette who looked like you
As she posed with a violin case by a horse-drawn omnibus
Near the Luxembourg Gardens. Today I won't linger long
On the obvious point that her name is lost to history
As the name of the graveyard where her bones
Have been crumbling to dust for over a century.
The streets we're to wander will shine more brightly
Now that it's clear the day of her death
Is of little importance compared to the moment
Caught in the photograph as she makes her way
Through afternoon light like this toward the Seine,
Or compared to our walk as we pass the Gardens.
The cold rain that fell this morning has given way to sunshine.
The gleaming puddles reflect our mood
Just as they reflected hers as she stepped around them
Smiling to herself, happy that her audition
Went well this morning. After practicing scales
For years in a village whose name isn't recorded,
She can study in Paris with one of the masters
And serve the music according to laws more rigorous
Than any passed by the grand assemblies of Europe,
Laws I hope she always tried to obey.
No way of telling now how close her life
Came to the life she hoped for as she rambled,
On the day of the photograph, along the quay.
And why do I need to know it when she herself,
If offered a chance to peruse the book of the future,
Would likely shake her head no and turn away.
She wants to focus on the afternoon almost gone
As we want to focus now on breathing and savoring
While we stand on the bridge she stood on to watch
The steamers push up against the current or ease down.
This flickering light on the water as the boats pass by
Is the flow that many painters have tried to capture
Without holding too still. By the time these boats arrive
And unload the cargoes in distant provinces,
The flow may have carried us home across the ocean.
But to think of our leaving now is to wrong the moment.
We have to resist distraction as she resisted
If we want they city that bloomed for her
To bloom for us as her loyal followers.

– Carl Dennis (2002), published in Poetry (Chicago)

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Hessel reclining on a sofa
ca. 1899
oil on cardboard
Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco

Édouard Vuillard
The Dressing Room, Madame Hessel reading at Amfréville
1906
oil and tempera on cardboard
Art Institute of Chicago

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Hessel at home
ca. 1908
oil on cardboard
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Hessel, Château des Clayes
ca. 1920
drawing
Art Institute of Chicago

Édouard Vuillard
Woman in an interior, Madame Hessel at Les Clayes
1935
oil on paper
Princeton University Art Museum

Édouard Vuillard
Marcelle Aron (Madame Tristan Bernard)
1914
distemper on canvas
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

Édouard Vuillard
Portrait of Madame Guerin
1916-17
distemper on paper, mounted on canvas
Art Institute of Chicago

Édouard Vuillard
Woman in blue
ca. 1925-35
pastel
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

Édouard Vuillard
Madame Gaboriaud
1931-32
distemper and pastel on linen
Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, Connecticut

Édouard Vuillard
Madame André Wormser and her children
1926-27
oil on canvas
National Gallery, London