Matisse was part of the Fauvist movement – the “wild beasts” – a group of early 20th century artists known for their brash use of color and their emphasis on manipulation of paint as equal to, or more important than, true representation of form. The main members were Matisse himself and Andre Derain, whose vibrant portraits and landscapes are often comprised of multiple brushstrokes of startling and counter-intuitive hue. (Andre Derain, "Charring Cross Bridge," 1906, pictured above)
The current Matisse exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art reveals something utterly surprising about the master’s work: it is not so much his use of color that gives the paintings their depth and vividness. In actuality, the vast majority of his work comes alive the way it does because of his distinctive and forceful use of black.
The exhibit is not your typical collection or retrospective of work. Rather, what we have are various incarnations of the same painting or subject hanging side by side. Typically, one or more of the pieces are painted with a nod to other contemporary painters’ style: We see Matisse using pointillism, for instance, in one of his depictions of the Gulf of Saint Tropez (top), then switching over to a more impressionistic stroke in another painting of the same scene (bottom). In the two portraits of the Young Sailor, he first painted with a more obvious, shorter brush stroke, then painted the next version in the flatter, overall-paint style that became part of his signature. According to the text of the exhibit, he didn’t necessarily consider these painting studies or think of one being more finished than the other. He often hung them side-by-side in exhibits, both as completed works. Apparently, people found it interesting for a while, but sometime in the 1920’s, viewers got bored with the repetition and Matisse fell out of favor.
All the while, though, he was honing his mature technique, the flat swaths of saturated color juxtaposed with strong lines of texture and pattern. Almost all of those lines are bold black strokes, so bold, in fact, that they belie their simplicity and provide such vibrancy that the paintings become much, much greater than the sum of their parts. Look closely, for instance, at “Interior in Yellow and Blue.” Reduced to its components, it is merely two flat planes of blue in opposing corners bisected by an equally flat yellow. The objects – table, vase, chair, melons, lemons – are actually quite vague and abstracted. It’s the elegant lines of the wrought iron chair and table base; the squiggle on the melon rinds; the interlocking diamonds of the vase; the weighty outline of the lemons; and the leafy pattern of the background curtain that make the painting what it is. And yet, the lines are all quite simple. The effect of the flat angular plains, rich color, and all those black strokes give the paintings a deep dimentionality, an illusion of depth and texture, a lush richness that breaths life into the scenes.
The show will hang at the Met until March 18, just a few more weeks. Get there if you can and rediscover a master.