Tasting the wine of Montmartre
A disorganised ramble through more glorious paintings
You’d think by now I would have a cast-iron system for making sure that everything I photographed in a gallery or museum could be linked to its title and its creator. Not so. However hard I try, I always end up confused about the origin of at least some of the paintings.
It happened again at the Musée de Montmartre. I was floating around in such a cloud of awe that all I could barely take in the images themselves. So today I’m going to take you on a tour of a riot of beautiful images, without being able to tell you exactly what they all are.
After the cats, first there were the posters. They felt familiar. Anyone who was a teenager in the 70s is well-versed in Art Noveau; we all had Toulouse-Lautrec and Mucha posters, pinned, in my case, onto the burnt cork walls of my bedroom. But now I was in the birthplace of it all, looking at original posters, and images that I’d never seen before. I learnt that colour lithography was developed during this period, and that in the excitement of both new technical possibilities and the wildness of the cabaret traditional divisions between painting, printing, and design began to break down.
They were familiar, but in their detail and their quality, not familiar at all.
We can say now that we’re being romantic about this period, but the wild joyousness of it all is unmistakable.
Then there was the artistic ‘discovery’ of the colour and design of Japan, which influenced many painters at that time (the Impressionists, and Van Gogh in particular). This poster was advertising a Japan-themed cafe-concert venue.
Egypt was also a source of exotic novelty.
Racism? Certainly Orientalism. I’m not going to go into it, but I see it.
No shame in decadence!
Nor affluence, it seems…
Then came the painters. I’m a person who can’t abide people being starstruck by celebrity (for god’s sake they’re just humans beings like you and me) but I have to admit to being a wee bit affected by what came next.
By now my head was spinning, and my capacity to keep track of labels in relation to paintings began to go downhill fast.
For the next images I lost track completely, but they’re all about being inside different cabaret venues.
I am in awe of le cabaret.
Thank you for sharing your deep and thoughtful insights on art and Montmartre. Your ability to unveil layers of meaning and history opens up a whole new way of seeing that I might never have discovered on my own. I truly appreciate the care and passion you bring to your work. It makes art feel alive and accessible. This post is a real gift.
Merci, you are a formidable guide