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Updated: May 23, 2025
Let us enjoy our Monet without too many "mole runs." As De Kay pointed out, it was not necessary for Monet to go to London to see Constables. In the Louvre he could gaze upon them at leisure, also upon Bonington; not to mention the Venetians and such a Dutchman as Vermeer. It is therefore doubly interesting to study the Monets at Durand-Ruel's. There are twenty-seven, and they range as far back as 1872, Promenade
"To another institution with a little more garden space?" Fred queried, pensively. Monet shrugged. "Perhaps... Who knows?" There followed another week of idleness, and one day, as Fred Starratt was dawdling in the sun, Harrison came up to him and said: "The head waiter in the dining room at Ward Six goes out to-morrow. Would you like his job?" "Like it?" Fred found himself echoing, incredulously.
How his fogs, wet and clinging, seem to be the first real fogs that ever made misty a canvas! What hot July nights, with few large stars, has Monet not painted! His series of hayricks, cathedrals, the Thames are precious notations of contemporary life; they state facts in terms of exquisite artistic value; they resume an epoch. That title became a catchword usually employed in a derisive manner.
The breezy effect with the poplars painted flat is an example very unlike Monet. The church of Varengeville at Dieppe is a classic specimen; so is the Pourville beach . What delicate greens in the Spring ! What fine distance, an ocean view, in the Pourville picture! Or, if you care for subdued harmonies, there is the ice floe at Vétheuil .
Defiance of all critical canons at any cost is their shibboleth. Compared to their fulgurant colour schemes the work of Manet, Monet, and Degas pales and retreats into the Pantheon of the past. They are become classic. Another king has usurped their throne his name is Paul Cézanne. No need now to recapitulate the story of the New Salon and the defection from it of these Independents.
The rest of the company regarded him with sinister curiosity. Except for Monet and Clancy all seemed obviously insane. One by one they filed into the room. Fred followed. Twelve spotlessly clean cots gleamed in the twilight. The twelve men crawled into bed; the door was shut with a bang. Fred heard a key turn... They were locked in! The ghostly day faded and night settled in.
And sparks of originality gleamed here and there; the passion for adventure had not flickered out at every step through the galleries some subject for the discussion we exulted in stopped us short. It might be Impressionism, Sisley still showing if Monet did not, and Vibrism and Pointillism and all the other isms springing up and out of it.
Any one who has been lucky enough to see it at Durand-Ruel's will cry out at the stupidity which did not recognise a masterly bit of painting with its glowing, nacreous flesh tints, its admirable modelling, its pervading air of vitality. Renoir was never a difficult painter; that is, in the sense of Monet or Manet or Gauguin.
They talked of the places they had been to in the summer, of studios, of the various schools; they mentioned names which were unfamiliar to Philip, Monet, Manet, Renoir, Pissarro, Degas. Philip listened with all his ears, and though he felt a little out of it, his heart leaped with exultation. The time flew.
And, while flight toward the west might be successful, it was too charged with a suggestion of failure to be tempting. "We don't just want to attempt to escape," Starratt used to explain. "We want to do it!" "But, spring!" Monet would echo. "That means May at the earliest. The mountain passes will be impossible even in April. Let's try!" "Come, come! Why this sudden restlessness?
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