Paul Gauguin first came to Tahiti in 1891 via Melbourne and Sydney, Australia, and Noumea, New Caledonia. He saw in Tahiti a chance to develop his art as well as developing an affinity with the indigenous people of Tahiti for whom he had a great admiration. The life and times of Paul Gauguin are vibrant and interesting and his work of art will be a lasting memorial to the people of Tahiti and to his own artistic genius.
Carved panel from the door frame of Gauguin's house at Hivaoa
One great interest in Gauguin today has come about not only because of the value of his work and its influence on modern art, but also because he had one of the most colourful lives of any artist in the nineteenth century. The impression which we receive from him is of a powerful nature struggling to fulfil its destiny, a man driven by himself to extremes and to self-destruction. On the one hand, the cultured European involved in the most sophisticated art movement of his time; on the other, the man who turned his back on western civilization in order to become a savage, a Maori.
Paul Gauguin was born in Paris in 1848. His father was a journalist of liberal tendencies, and his mother, Aline Chazel, was the daughter of Flora Tristan, a political speaker and follower of "Saint-Simon, of Peruvian-Spanish extraction. In 1849, a few months after the election of Louis Napoleon as President, the family left for Peru, where Aline had influential relations, the father dying en route. Although they only remained there for six years, it may well be that the boy retained impressions of that strange and remote land which, in later years, stirred his wanderlust, for in 1865 he enlisted in the merchant service and made voyages between Le Havre and South America.
In 1871, however, he left the sea and entered the Bertin bank in Paris as a stockbroker. By 1873 he was in a financial position to marry Mette Gad, a young Danish girl, and in the following years made a very comfortable income. He seems to have begun to paint in the summer of 1873, shortly before his marriage, encouraged perhaps by his guardian Gustave Arosa, who owned a fine collection of pictures by Corot, Delacroix, Courbet and the artists of the Barbizon School. Arosa's daughter, Marguerite, herself a painter, gave him instruction in the technique of painting in oils and went with him on Sundays to paint on the outskirts of Paris. At Bertin's he found that another employer, Emile Schuffenecker, had also developed an enthusiastic interest in painting. The two of them soon began to take their hobby so seriously that they went to the evenings to the Atelies Colarossi, one of the ateliers libres where artists could work freely without the discipline of the Academic des Beaux-Arts, to draw from the model and receive a certain amount of tuition.
Gauguin's early paintings were in the tradition of Daubigny, Corot, Jongkind and Courbet. Maturing rapidly, he exhibited a landscape at the Salon of 1876, but apparently never mentioned this to Arosa or to his wife. The turning-point in his career was his meeting with Camille Pissarro, which seems to have taken place about 1877. The two became good friends and Pissarro gave Gauguin a great deal of useful advice; they even worked side by side, painting from the same motif, as Pissarro and Cezanne had done a few years before. With the older artist's encouragement, Gauguin began to form a fine collection of Impressionist paintings, including important works by Cesanne, Pissarro, Degas, Sisley, Guillaumin, Monet and Renoir; he also contributed to the last five Impressionist exhibitions of 1879-86. His works of this period show the typical Impressionist handling and broken colour similar to Pissarro, but without much personal quality. As Gauguin said later of Pissarro: 'He looked at everybody, you say? Why not? Everyone looked at him, too, but denied him. He was one of my masters and I do not deny him.' Gaining confidence, Gauguin began to tackle the human figure, getting his wife Mette and the maid to pose for him, or making studies from one or other of his children.
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By all accounts, however, he was still not taken seriously as an artist, and probably himself felt uncertain of his powers. His first true success came when he exhibited Study of a Nude (plate 3) at the Impressionist exhibition of 1881; and earned the enthusiastic praise of the naturalist novelist and critic J. K. Huysmans: 'I don't hesitate to state that among the contemporary painters who have depicted the nude, none has yet given so vehement an expression of reality...' Gauguin became less modest, more assured; the stock market began to take second place. Nevertheless it came as a complete surprise to his wife when he suddenly announced in 1883 that he had decided to give up his job at the end of the year and become a full-time painter. About the beginning of January 1884 he moved with his family to Rouen, where he hoped to find a market for his pictures among the wealthy bourgeois, but he met with no success and after three or four months was in a precarious financial position. It was decided that Mette should return to Denmark to try to earn a living by teaching French and by making translations. Gauguin joined her there in December, but unfortunately was soon on bad terms with his wife's relations. Embittered by the hostility of the Gad family and by the failure of his one=man show in Copenhagen - a failure which he attributed partly to intrigue - he returned to Paris about the end of June 1885, leaving his wife behind.
The sacrifice of family, security and peace of mind to art had already begun. The successful business man was set on a path which would lead to renunciation of western civilisation, bitter poverty, an early death... and artistic greatness. 'I am a great artist...' he wrote to Mette later by way of explanation. 'I am a great artist and know it. It is because I know it that I have endured so many sufferings in order to proceed on my way, otherwise I should consider myself a brigand.' Gauguin was not only influenced by Pissarro. he owned, for instance, at least five paintings by Cezanne including works from the period when Cezanne showed the most pronounced interest in simplification, pattern and the use of almost flat areas of colour surrounded by definite outlines. The influence of Cezanne can be seen in his still-life of 1885 reproduced as plate 6, and more strongly in certain other works of the same period. Afterwards, in 1890, he included the still-life from his collection in the background of one of his portraits (plate 22), a picture which may be regarded as a kind of homage to Cezanne. He even took a fleeting interest in the innovations of the Neo-Impressionists, whose contributions had been the main attraction at the last Impressionist exhibition of 1886, though he was turned against Neo-Impressionism and referred contemptuously to its exponents as 'confetti painters'. He insisted that the juxtaposition of complementary colours produced discord and not harmony. The very rigid, doctrinaire approach of Seurat and Sugnac was bound to clash with his own desire to liberate painting from every kind of restriction.
In June 1886, he moved to Pont-Aven in Brittany, which was then a favourite resort of painters. He was attracted to it partly because it was a country with archaic customs and partly because living there was very cheap. 'I love Brittany,' he said later, 'I find there the savage, the primitive. When my wooden shoes reverberate on this granite soil, I hear the muffled, heavy and powerful note I am seeking in painting.' This surge to seek primitive, exotic terrain was carried a stage further in 1887 when he set out with the painter Charles Laval for Panama and Martinique.
On Martinique the two artists lived in a negro hut, ate fishes and fruit, painted palm trees, banana trees and especially natives, and thought for a few blissful days that they had discovered Paradise. But Laval was taken ill with fever, while Gauguin himself suffered violent attacks of dysentery. Nevertheless, so far as work was concerned, this visit was not unprofitable. Gauguin made on Martinique a number of paintings which show him gradually freeing himself from Impressionism, simplifying his forms and, in the clear sunlight, using bolder colours including patches of blues, purple-mauves and reds (see plate 9). 'Despite my physical weakness,' he said, 'I have never before made paintings so clear, so lucid.'
On his return from Martinique, Gauguin sought the hospitality of Schuffenecker (who had likewise given up his job at the bank to become a painter), then returned to Pont-Aven. In August he was joined there by Emile Bernard. Bernard had met Gauguin briefly during his first stay at Pont-Aven in 1886, but thought arriving with an introduction from Schuffenecker, had not been well received - the two had in fact seen very little of each other. (At the pension Gloanec at Pont-Aven, Gauguin and his friends dined apart from the academic painters, and were referred to pugnaciously as 'The Impressionists') In 1888, however, Gauguin was very much interested in Bernard's recent paintings, executed in a style which Bernard and Anquetin had created under the influence of Japanese prints and Cezanne. this style was known as cloisonnism because or its areas of unbroken colour surrounded by bold outlines; the forms being made to stand out in clear-cut silhouette. When Gauguin saw Bernard's Breton Women in a Field he was, so Bernard assures us, greatly impressed, and forthwith painted his own Piston after the Sermon (plate 12) in which he used a similar convention reminiscent of Japanese prints and strained-glass.
The Vision after the Sermon depicts the moment after the sermon when the peasants, in their simplicity, almost imagine that they can see Jacob wrestling with the angel. The priest himself appears in the bottom right corner. Instead of a painting executed in front of nature, this is a work executed from memory and imagination - what Gauguin called an 'abstraction', 'Real' figures - the peasants - are juxtaposed with imagined figures. The unreality of the scene is further enhanced by extremely arbitrary colour, in particular a background of flaming crimson. Instead of the typical Impressionist touch, there are flat or only slightly modelled areas of colour surrounded by bold strong outlines. the forms are simplified and in places given a distinct Art Nouveau curvilinear character. A slight suggestion of recreation is created by the over lapping of the forms and by the diminution in scale of the figures, but the general effect is rather like a polychrome bas-relief. The wrestling figures themselves were derived from a Japanese print, probably from one of the groups of wrestlers in Hokusai's Mangwa. When this picture was finished, Gauguin offered it to a church near Pont-Aven - not out of piety but because he wanted to see its effect in the setting of the Romanesque and gothic forms of the granite chapel. but it was refused by the priest.
The Vision after the Sermon is a key work for the understanding of Gauguin's development - and indeed for the development of modern art - as it marks his clear break with Impressionism and the naturalistic movement. This was the period when the Symbolist literary movement was getting under way, when writers of the new generation were attacking naturalism for its subservience to nature and were exalting the creative power of the imagination. Though Emile Bernard was only twenty years old, he was a reader of of Baudelaire and a friend of young writers like Albert Aurier.
'Attentive to the Symbolist literary movement,' he wrote, 'I wanted a parallel kind of painting.' Gauguin from this time on became likewise anti-naturalistic and spoke in the highest terms of the god-like creative capacity of the artist. for instance, in August 1888, probably just after painting The Vision after the Sermon, he wrote to Schuffenecker: 'A word of advice: don't paint too much direct from nature. Art is an abstraction! Study nature, then brood on it and think more of the creation which will result, which is the only way to ascend towards God - to create like our Divine Master.' (There are echoes here of the ideas of Delacroix, Baudelaire and Edgar Allan Poe, all of whom Gauguin admired.) 'My latest works,' Gauguin went on, 'are on the right lines and I think you will find a new note, or rather the affirmation of my earlier experiments or synthesis of a single form and a single colour in which only the essential counts.'
From the time, in 1891, when Gauguin was acclaimed the originator of this new style, Bernard waged a bitter campaign to establish that he was the innovator and influenced Gauguin, that he was the true founder of the School of Pont-Aven. And up to a point, this was true. There does not seem to be much doubt that he did exert a very definite influence on Gauguin's style with paintings such as the Briton Women; on the other hand Gauguin was receptive to his cloisonnism precisely because he had begun to develop along similar lines under the influence of Cezanne and Japanese prints. He carried the style to a new point of completeness and perfection and it is beyond question that it was Gauguin and not Bernard who influenced Serusier and the Nabis.
Gauguin and Bernard had both met Vincent van Gogh in Paris in 1886-7. Although van Gogh had gone to Aries in February 1888, and was working there in isolation, he was by no means out of touch with events at Pont-Aven. Bernard sent him many letters describing his new pictures, some of which he even illustrated with sketches. Vincent was at this time preoccupied with the idea of establishing a community of painters in his yellow house at Arles similar to the associations of Japanese artists: he specially wanted artists to exchange self-portraits as a token of sympathy and live together in a state of mutual help. In exchange for one of van Gogh's self-portraits, Gauguin sent him a self-portrait with a portrait of Bernard in the background (now in eh collection of Vincent's nephew, V. W. van Gogh), while Bernard sent a similar picture.
On 8 October 1888, Gauguin wrote to Schuffenecker: 'This year I have sacrificed everything, execution and colouring, for style, intending to compel myself to do something different from what I usually do. It is a transformation which has not borne fruit so far, but will, I think, bear it.
'I have done a self-portrait for Vincent, who asked me for it. I believe it is one of my best things: absolutely incomprehensible (upon my word) so abstract it is. It looks at first like the head of a bandit, a Jean Valjean (Les Misirables), but it also personifies a disreputable Impressionist painter burdened for ever with a chain for the world. The drawing is altogether peculiar, being complete abstraction. The eyes, the mouth, the nose, are like flowers in a Persian carpet, thus personifying also the symbolical side. the colour is a colour remote from nature; imagine something like pottery twisted by the furnace! All the reds and violets streaked like flames, like a furnace burning fiercely, the seat of the painter's mental struggles. The whole on a chrome background sprinkled with childish nosegays. Chamber of a pure young girl. the Impressionist is such a one, not yet sullied by the filthy kiss of the Beaux-Arts (School).'
The painting is therefore done 'out of his head' not direct from nature; and the distortions are intended to convey symbolical ideas. Ever since June van Gogh had been urging him to come to Arles, promising that his brother Theo, who was an art dealer with the firm of Gopupil, would provide for him. Gauguin and van Gogh lived in perpetual tension, arguing long into the night: the stmosphere was electric, dangerous. Though they used fairly similar conventions in art, their temperaments and tastes were strongly opposed. 'Vincent and I,' wrote Gauguin, 'are in general very little in agreement, above all with regard to painting. He admires Daumier, Daubigny, Ziem and the great Rousseau, whom I cannot stand. And on the other hand he detests Ingres, Raphael, Degas and all those whom I admire... He likes my paintings very much but when I have finished them, he always finds that I have made a mistake here, or there. He is romantic, while I am rather inclined towards a primitive state. When it comes to colour, he is interested in the accidents of the pigment, as with Monticelli, whereas I detest this messing about with the medium.'
These differences are very apparent of one compares, for instance, Gauguin's Old women of Arles (plate 13) with a rather similar painting by van Gogh, Promenade at Arles - Souvenir of the Garden of Etten. Gauguin uses simple, almost geometrical forms; those of van Gogh are twisting, flame-like, emotionally very highly charged. And whereas Gauguin's brushwork is very restrained, van Gogh's is extremely personal and plays an important part in the effect. 'It is odd, wrote Gauguin, 'that Vincent feels the influence of Daumier here: I, on the contrary, see the Puvis (de Chavannes) subjects in their Japanese colourings. Women here with their elegant coiffure have a Grecian beauty. Their shawls, falling in folds like the primitives, are, I say, like Greek frenzies.' Though the exact dates of these two two pictures are not known it seems probable that Gauguin's was done first and that van Gogh used it as his starting point - for, unlike Gauguin, he needed to have something in front of him while he was painting, either nature or another work of art. The fact that Gauguin was trying to impose his method of working from memory upon him was one of the factors which led to the final crisis.
Gauguin and van Gogh painted each other's portrait. When Gauguin finished his picture of van Gogh painting sunflowers, van Gogh exclaimed: 'It is certainly me, but it's me gone mad.' 'That very evening,' wrote Gauguin, 'we went to the cafe. He took a light absinthe,. suddenly he flung the glass and its contents at my head. I avoided the blow and, taking him bodily in my arms, went out of the cafe, across the Place Victor Hugu...' On Christmas Eve, after trying to attack Gauguin with a razor, van Gogh cut off his own ear and sent it as a present to a girl in a brothel. Gauguin thereupon summoned Theo to Arles by telegram; then returned to Paris, without seeing Vincent again. In Paris he stayed once more with the Schuffeneckers. His portrait of the Schuffenecker family (plate 14) executed at this time shows how his style had become suppler. there is more space, the figures are more directly treated, yet the simplification and strength of design have been retained. Schuffenecker - 'the good Schuff' - a timid, well-meaning little man is said to have been dominated by the assertive personality of Gauguin who practically took over the house while he was there, removed Schuffenecker's pictures and hung his own in their place, appropriated his studio and, at least once, even locked the studio door in his host's face.
Gauguin paid a number of visits to the Paris World's Fair, which opened in the spring of 1889, and was particularly interested in the Javanese village and the Hindu dancers. Though not included in the official retrospective exhibitions of French art, Gauguin, Bernhard, Schuffenecker, Laval, Monfreid, Fauche, Anquetin and Roy found an opportunity to show some of their paintings unofficially within the grounds of the exhibition, at the Cafe Volpini, under the title 'Groupe Impressionniste et Synthetiste'. However, nothing was sold. About the end of May 1889, Gauguin returned to Pont-Aven. This third stay in Brittany, which lasted except for a break of four months until November 1890, was a period of great activity. Now more than ever Gauguin tried to capture the rustic, primitive character of the Breton scene, its melancholy and remoteness, in paintings of peasants working in the fields and in pictures inspired by their naive religious faith. The Yellow Christ (plate 16), for instance, was based on the wooden polychrome sculpture of Christ in the ancient chapel of Tremalo, near Pont-Aven, which he transposed to an open-air setting. Some of the artists in Brittany had found in him an outward resemblance to the figure of the Messiah, suggested by his grave, imposing manner, his wearing of a short beard and moustache, and his position as the leader of a group of disciples. In several paintings, notably in Christ on the Mount of Oliver, Gauguin seized on this resemblance as a means of alluding simultaneously to his own loneliness and suffering. Yhe Breton Calvary (plate 17) - painted after he had left Pont-Aven and moved to Le Pouldu on the coast - was inspired by one of the stone calvaries characteristic of the region, most probably the Romanesque calvary at Nizon. The colours were used for their emotional effect, to enhance the mood of brooding melancholy and poetry. On a visiting card found among the papers of Albert Aurier, he made some notes evidently related to this composition:
'Calvary cold stone from the soil - Breton idea of the sculptor who explains religion through his Breton soul with Breton costumes - Breton local colour ... passive sheep', and ...' All this in a Breton landscape i.e. Breton poetry his starting-point (colour brings the setting into a bluish harmony) etc... Cheerless to do - In contrast - (the human figure) poverty (illegible word) of life ...' Unlike the Impressionists, who tried to eliminate the literacy element from their paintings, Gauguin was now very interested in subject-matter and was even prepared at times to define it in words (though words that were deliberately imprecise). Gauguin moved to Le Pouldu towards the end of September 1889, and on 2 October settled at the inn kept by Mlle Marie Henry. He was accompanied by Meyer de Haan, a Dutchman who had ceded an interest in a prosperous biscuit factory in Amsterdam in return for a monthly allowance, in order to devote himself to the fine arts. He had begun as an academic painter, but had soon developed an enthusiasm for Impressionism. He became a great admirer of Gauguin, to whom he had been recommended by Camille Pissarro, and helped him financially, even keeping him supplied with tobacco. Under Gauguin's direction his own talents matured rapidly and he produced several interesting works.
At Le Pouldu, Gauguin was also joined by Seruier and Filiger. Mlle Henry's inn became the centre of great artistic activity. The small living room was entirely transformed by Gauguin, de Haan and Serusier. The window-panes were covered with painted scenes of Brittany, like stained-glass windows. Wherever there was a space, mottoes and saying sere written on the plaster walls. Two landscapes and a portrait of Marie Henry by Meyer de Haan filled one wall; an over life-size bust of Meyer de Haan by Gauguin was placed on the mantelpiece; little statuettes and pots stood on shelves around the walls. A picture entitled Bonjour, Monsieur Gauguins (sic) was stuck on the upper panel of the door opening into the hall, and on the lower panel Gauguin painted The Caribbean Woman directly on the wood of the door. Outside the room, over the doorway, was a canvas entitled The Terrestrial Paradise.
A self-portrait and a portrait of Meyer de Haan were painted directly on the wooden doors of a massive cupboard, and the ceiling of the room was decorated with a painting of a swan and the head and shoulders of a woman (presumably a reference to the Jupiter and Leda myth) surrounded by the inscription 'Honi soit qui mal y pense!' Gauguin referred sardonically in his self-portrait (plate 18) to the contrast between his outward resemblance to the Messiah and his arrogant and sensual inner nature, introducing as attributes not only a halo but the snake and applies symbolic of the Fall. In the companion picture, Meyer de Haan, who was best and almost dwarf-like, was portrayed as the Devil. Thus the decorative scheme referred in part of the twin themes of Paradise and the Fall of Man.
It was at Le Pouldu in 1889 that Gauguin carved the bas-relief Soyez amour et vous serez heureuses (figure 9) - a clear reference of his own ideas on free love. 'Gauguin (as a monster) seizing the hand of a protesting woman and saying to her: 'Be in love and you will be happy. the fox, an Indian symbol of perversity, then some little figures in the interstices.' Stylistically, this relief is developed out of each pictures as The Vision after the Sermon, though it has a much more pronounced earthy and primitive character. The Art Nouveau curves present in The Vision after the Sermon likewise play a larger part in the design. One only needs to compare it with an Impressionist landscape painted three years before to see how radically Gauguin's conception of art has changed. In Seyez amoureuses et vous serez heureuses there is an imagined event, a projection of the artist's fantasy, a symbol, conceived in a manner which is entirely arbitrary.
Towards the end of 1890, Gauguin returned to Paris where he came into touch with Symbolist writers like Jean Moreas, Charles Morice, Stephance Mallarme, Paul Verlaine and Octave Mirbeau and was welcomed by them as the leading representative of Symbolism in painting. He became an habitue of the cafes where the Symbolist writers foregathered; he att4ended several of Mallarme's 'Tuesday'; Octave Mirbeau wrote the preface to the catalogue of the sale of 30 of his pictures at the Hotel Drouot; and, shortly before his departure for Tahiti, a banquet was held in his honour at the Cafe Voltaire presided over by Mallarme and attended by some thirty writers and artists of the symbolist circle including Carriere, Redon, Morice, Moreas and Aurier. Gauguin had been considering for some time the idea of going to the tropics, perhaps taking Emile Bernard, Laval or Meyer de Haan with him. His original intention had been to go once more to Martinique, or to Tonking or Madagascar, but Pierre Lot's novel Le Mariage de Loti and an official description of enchantments of the Pacific islands made him decide on Tahiti.
To the creative artists of the Third Republic, who found themselves in a society where they had no proper place, where money values alone seemed to count, the age-old dream of a lost Paradise and golden Age was particularly compelling. Artists felt themselves stifled in a hostile environment from which they needed to escape. some escaped by turning towards, by cultivating the world of their imagination and by cutting themselves off from ordinary life. Mallarme, villers de I'Isle-Adam, Odilon Redon, Gustave Moreau did this. Others escaped by physically leaving Europe and going away to some remote part of the globe where more primitive and congenial conditions prevailed. Loti did this. Rimbaud did first one and then the other.
Gauguin was attracted to Tahiti however not only as a means of escape and renewal (by a return to origins) but also because it provided new subjects for his paintings and because life there was said to be free from all money difficulties' ...one has only to raise an arm to find food'. In some respects he was to be cruelly disappointed. Tahiti was a French colony. On arriving at Papeete, the capital, he found that the Europeans were already established there. 'It was Europe, the Europe from which I had thought to free myself, and, into the bargain, all the irritating kinds of colonial snobbery.' After several months he moved some 25 miles from Papeete and went to live in a bamboo hut, with a thirteen-year-old Tahitian girl as his vahine; he dressed himself like the natives, went on fishing expeditions with them and tried to familiarise himself with their customs and way of thought. Whereas Loti, who had also visited Tahiti and taken a native wife, remained always the civilised westerner, conscious of his own superiority, Gauguin felt he had much to learn from them. He interested himself in the most primitive aspects of Tahitian life and the account which he wrote later of his experiences - Noa Noa - characteristically plays down the fact that even the most remote country districts of Tahiti had already been partly Europeanised.
The pictures executed during this visit to Tahiti show a further move towards a more direct treatment. Instead of the large areas of uniform colour bounded by firm outlines of his Beeton period, we find a definite modelling achieved through a more traditional use of nuances, and less conspicuous outlines. In most cases the foreground and middle distance are clearly established; there is no longer a bizarre cutting of figures by the edge of the canvas. The tendency is away from Japanese art, towards a more traditional treatment of space, modelling and composition. certainly one never again finds paintings as analyzed as The Vision after the Sermon or the Self-Portrait with a Halo.
A few of his Tahitian paintings - In Orana Maria, for instance - are of Christian themes, though the Biblical figures are enacted by Tahitians - Gauguin argued that the simple native folk would imagine them to be people like themselves. Another group of pictures is inspired by the traditional and pre-Christian religious beliefs and practices of the Polynesians. Gauguin stated in Noa Noa that his knowledge of the ancient pagan religions was mainly communicated to him by his wife. We know that this could not have been so. Not only were the religious secrets never revealed to women, but the traditional beliefs were more or less extinct by the time Gauguin reached Tahiti. His knowledge of them came from a book by a French consul to the South Sea Islands, named Moerenhout, published in 1837: Voyage aux Illes du Grand Ocian. He transcribed passages from this book in his own manuscript Ancien Culte Mahorie, compiled about 1892, and used them again later almost word for word in the preparation of Na Noa. His 0;ainting of The Moon and the Earth (plate 31), for instance, was clearly inspired by the legendary dialogue between Fatoo and Hina (the spirits of the Earth and the Moon) regarding the eternity of Matter.
When Gauguin portrayed the Tahitian worshipping their idols, he therefore depleted a practice which had ceased at least fifty or sixty years before. similarly he looked back nostalgically to the days when Tahiti was ruled by Maori kings and queens (ef. Te Arii Vahine, plate 34), and by the secret society of the Ariois, who practiced the ideal of free-love. Not content with Tahiti of his own day, he also sought the primitive, pre-European civilisation. When Gauguin returned to Paris in September 1893, his first desire was to organise an exhibition of th4e works he had brought back with him from Tahiti. The exhibition opened at Durand-Ruel's two months later, with a catalogue preface by Charles Morice. Though it aroused considerable curiosity and was very much admired by his writer friends, only eleven pictures were sold; the public was bewildered not so much by the technical originality of Gauguin's style as by its own ignorance of Tahitian history, religion and customs.
Fortunately Gauguin had a windfall: through the death of his uncle he received an inheritance of about 13,000 francs. This allowed him to rent an apartment in the rue Vercingetorix, an apartment which he decorated in characteristic fashion, just as he had previously decorated the living-room at Le Pouldu and his hut in Tahiti. (It seemed as though everything around him was turned into art.) He covered the windows of the tiny hall with paintings and embellished them with the characteristic motto 'Ici faruru' (here people make love). He painted the walls of his large studio chrome yellow and hung them with paintings by himself, van Gogh and others, and with barbaric boomerangs, axes and spears. On Thursday evenings he gave informal receptions which were attended by Julien Leclercq, August Strindberg, Charles Morice, Paul Roinard, Aristide Maillol, Paul Serusier and many other writers and artists.
His own person was equally remarkable, for he strode the streets of Paris wearing a long frock coat of blue, with buttons of mother-of-pearl. Beneath this was a blue waistcoat which buttoned down the side and sported a collar embroidered in yellow and green. He wore a hot of grey felt with a sky-blue ribbon; he carried, in place of a cane, a stick decorated by himself with barbaric carvings and inset with a splendid pearl. To complete his accountrement, he took with him his mistress, a half-Indian, half-Malayan girl known as Anna the Javanese. In April 1894 they went to Brittany, where Gauguin was joined once more by artists sympathetic to his ideas, including Armand Seguin and Roderic O'Connor. One day, as he and Anna were walking with Seguin at Concargeau, some boys began to throw stones at them and this ended in a brawl with four sailors of the locality. Gauguin was holding his own well enough until he caught his foot in a hole and in falling broke his ankle. Anna took advantage of his convalescence to return to Paris, where she ransacked his studio of everything except the pictures and then disappeared.
In September Gauguin told Monfreid that he had resolved to sell all his works and go and live for ever in the South Seas. The sale, which took place at the Hotel Drouot the following February, proved a disaster: he had to buy back the majority of the paintings and barely covered his expenses. Fortified, however, by a contract with Levy and Chaulet, who promised to ensure his financial security, he left for Tahi8ti in June 1895 - never to return. His first visit to Tahiti had included much that was idyllic, the second was on the whole a time of misery: ill health and money difficulties plagued him almost without respite. His broken ankle had failed to heal completely and, in addition, he was suffering from the effects of syphilis. Within a few months, his legs were covered with open sores which caused intense irritation and for long periods the pain was such that he was quite unable to work. With no money from Levy and only small, irregular sums from Cahudet, he had to rely on what his faithful friend and correspondent Daniel de Monfreid could sell for him. repeatedly in debt, he suffered spells of intense depression which reached their climax in January 1898 when he tried to commit suicide by taking arsenic. It was only after March 1900, when Vollard made a contract with him and arranged to send monthly remittances, that his financial position began to improve.
The atmosphere of tragedy is reflected in a certain number of his paintings executed in these years. It is very apparent, for instance, in the Portrait of the Artist (at Golgotha) (plate 37) painted in 1896 at a time when a succession of misfortunes led him to exclaim: 'I am so demoralised, discouraged, that I don't think it possible anything worse could happen.' The tired, haggard face reveals his suffering and his weakened physical condition. It is clear also in the sombre, anguished colour harmonies of D'Oa Venons Nous? Qui Sommes Nous? Ohi Allons Nous? (plate 41) and The White Horse (plate 40). Gauguin has written of his Tahitian art in general:
'Wishing to suggest a luxuriant and wild nature, a tropical sun, which sets aflame everything around it, I have had to give my figures an appropriate setting. It is indeed life in the open air, but at the same time intimate; among the thickets, the shadowy streams, these whispering women in the immense palace decorated by Nature herself, with all the riches that Tahiti affords. Hence all these fabulous colours, this fiery yet softened and silent air.
'- But all that doesn't exist!
'- Yes, it exists, but as the equivalent of the grandeur, the profundity, of that mystery of Tahiti, when it has to be expressed on a canvas a metre square.
'She is very subtle, very clever in her naivety, the Tahitian Eve. The enigma hidden in the depths of her child-like eyes remains incommunicable... It is Eve after the fall, still able to walk naked without shame, preserving all her animal beauty as at the first day... Like Eve's, her body is still that of an animal. but her head has progressed with evolution, her mind has developed subtlety, love has imprinted an ironical smile upon her lips, and, naively, she searches in her memory for the why of present times. Enigmatically, she looks at you.'
Being himself a highly cultured western European, Gauguin was fascinated by the problem of Man's emergence from the primitive state, the life governed by instinct. Hence his recurrent references to Eve, to the Fall and to the Tree of Knowledge (themes which had begun to interest him even before his first visit to Tahiti). This can be seen for instance in his largest painting D'Ou Venons Nous? Qui Sommes Nous? Ou Allons Nous?, which Gauguin has described as follows - though warning 'Emotion first! understanding afterwards';
'The bird concludes the poem by comparing the inferior being with the intelligent being in this great whole which is the problem indicated by the title.
'Behind a tree are two sinister figures, shrouded in garments of sombre colour, recording near the tree of knowledge their note of anguish caused by this knowledge itself, in comparison with the simple beings in a virgin nature, which might be the human idea of paradise, allowing everybody the happiness of living.'
Gauguin contrasted his attitude to the literary content of his pictures with that of Puvis de Chavannes. 'Puvis explains his idea, yes, but he does not paint it. He is a Greek whereas I am a savage, a wolf in the woods without a collar. Puvis will call a picture Purity and to explain it will paint a young virgin with a lily in her hand - a hackneyed symbol, but which is understood by all. Gauguin, under the title Purity, will paint a landscape with limpid streams; no taint of civilised man, perhaps an individual'. He rejected the academic symbolism of Puvis de Chavannes in favour of a more indirect, personal and evocative treatment. 'In painting, one must search rather for suggestion than for description, as is done in music.' Various contemporary poets were, of course, trying to do much the same - Verlaine, for instance, for whose Roman ces sans Paroles Gauguin had a particular admiration; and also Mallarme. In the avoidance of the anecdote, the substitution of a situation that is equivocal and suggestive, demanding the imaginative co-operation of the observer, there is much in common between Gauguin's attitude to his subject-matter and that of the Symbolist poets. Odilon Redon, the only other painter of his generation developing along these lines, was also in close touch with the Symbolist writers.
At the same time, Gauguin referred repeatedly to the colours in his paintings in 'musical role which colour will henceforth play in modern painting' - and he insisted that colours should be used arbitrarily for their direct effect upon the emotions. When questioned on this, he replied:
'They are intended, absolutely! They are necessary and everything in my work is calculated, premeditated. It is music, if you like! I obtain by an arrangement of lines and colours, with the pretext of some sort of subject taken from life or from nature, symphonies, harmonies which represent nothing absolutely real in the vulgar sense of the word, which express directly no idea, but which provoke thoughts as music provides thoughts, without the help of ideas or images, simply through the mysterious relationships which exist between our brains and these arrangements of lines and colours.' These theories, which were an extension of ideas to be found in the writings of Delacroix and Baudelaire, again led on to modern art, even to abstract painting.
'The painter hasn't the task, like a mason, of building, compass in hand, a house to a plan furnished by an architect. It is good for the young to have a model, but let them draw a curtain over it while they paint it. It is better to paint from memory. then what is yours will be yours; your sensation, your intelligence and your soul will get across to the beholder...
In place of the instantaneous, snap-shot view of the impressionists. Gauguin avoids the momentary, the fleeting, the form in movement, and creates a world in which figures are charged with a slothful dignity. They look at us enigmatically, their eyes heavy with some secret thought. In his reaction against Impressionism, Gauguin went for inspiration partly to Delacroix and Puvis de Chavannes (see, for example, plates 39 and 35). But he also - and this is part of his great historical importance as a pioneer of modern art - went to primitive and archaic sources. We have seen how he came to admire Romanesque sculpture and Japanese prints. While staying with Schuffenecker in Paris early in 1888, he started to make ceramics based on the primitive pottery in the Musee Guimet. Then, the following year, he introduced a Peruvian idol into his portrait La Belle Angila (plate 15). In 1889 he brought back with him from the Javanese pavilion at the World's Fair a fragment of a frieze representing a dancer, and was inspired by it to carve a statuette. When he went to Tahiti he took with him at least two photographs of the frieze of the Javanese Temple of Barabudur and at least one of an Egyptian wall painting. From this Javanese bas-relief he took not only the pose of individual figures as in la Orana Maria, but the frieze-like conception of Fax Iheihe (plate 43) of 1898 and related works. The inspiration of Egyptian wall paintings is obvious in Ta Matete (plate 27) of 1892. Fascinated by Polynesian art, he carved idol-like figures in a similar convention. thus Gauguin sought inspiration in primitive and archaic art in much the same way that the Mannerist artists of the sixteenth century turned to their Gothic forbears. In this respect he was of very gr4eat influence on the art of the twentieth century; for the discovery of the artistic merits of African woodcarving, so vital for the development of Cubism, was made by the Fauves and the German Expressionists under his direct influence.
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Also important, though to a lesser degree, was his part in the revival of the woodcut, which in the middle of the nineteenth century had degenerated into a means for the mass-reproduction of pen drawings (such as those by Gustave Dore). Gauguin was one of the first to see large areas of block and to allow the tool marks to play their part in the design. In 1901 he moved to the Marquesas Islands in order to live more cheaply and to find new subjects for his paintings. He had hoped to find a truly savage society there, but discovered instead that the European influences were once again causing a complete disruption of the traditional way of life. Within a few months of his arrival, he started to take the side of the natives against the white officials, inciting them not to send their children to the mission schools and protesting against the excessively heavy taxes and fines imposed upon them. A complaint about the corrupt behaviour of a policeman led to his being charged with libel and sentenced on 31 March 1903 to three months' imprisonment and a fine of 500 francs. At the time of his death on 8 May - a death which was almost certainly accelerated by the strain of these events - he was preparing to go to Tahiti to appeal against this sentence.
He had become a legend even in his lifetime. 'You are now,' so Monfreid wrote to him in December 1902, 'that unheard-of legendary artist, who from the furthest South Seas sends his disturbing, inimitable works, the definitive works of a great man who has as it were disappeared from the world.'
Recognition followed swiftly after his death. The memorial exhibition of his work at the Salon d'Automne of 1906, including no less than two hundred and twenty-seven paintings, drawings, sculptures and prints from his abundant production, silenced his detractors and provided a triumphant vindication of his long years of struggle.
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