Lot Essay
During the summer of 1891 Renoir visited Mézy, and it was perhaps he who prompted the execution of a later version of the Bergère couchée - the nude version – which would be closely followed by the present work. A change of location, next to the water’s edge, seated, one foot hovering in the water, transforming her from daydreaming bergère to baigneuse - one of Renoir’s favourite subjects at the time.
Part of the reason Morisot liked Mézy so much, was the opportunity for her daughter Julie to grow friendships with the local children. Morisot’s daughter, Julie, remembered the little shepherdess, Louis-Gabrielle Dufour, when describing one of the versions of Bergère nue couchée: ‘Gabriele from Mézy, a wild kid who had her first communion with me, is lying here in her lilac skirt with red kerchief on her head, next to her little goat Colette.” (Journal de Julie Manet, Paris, 1979, p. 86.) The subject of the Bergère is not new in the new painting of the time, as is evident in the works of Pissarro, Henri Martin, and even earlier, in the paintings of Morisot’s beloved Corot. It is not the bucolic idyll, the picturesque scene of girl, nor the likeness of the girl that interested Morisot, but the harmony of lines and colour within a subject close to her. The summer of 1891 was particularly inclement. Because of the continuous rain and low temperatures, she could not press upon the models to sit long for her, and certainly not in the freezing water - circumstances which are partly to thank for the spontaneity of the composition and brushwork.
Yet this little painting was proceeded by at least five drawings, one of which, in red chalk, captured the pose of Gabrielle in just a few sure strokes. The influence of Renoir, who was visiting Morisot at this time, is apparent in this type of bather rubbing her foot. But whereas Renoir’s bathers were fleshy, sensual women, Morisot has managed to capture the still youthful grace of an inwardly looking girl making a nervous gesture. For this she was admired by Thadée Nathanson. In a review of a show in Brussels in 1884, he wrote: ‘her feminine level-headed delicateness saves her from both sentimentality and any perverse equivocal appeal, from dwelling on disturbing things. She is not even sensual. However far her mentors and peers may go, she always just expresses a clear-sighted, healthy desire for colour of a transparent serenity.’ (quoted in exh. cat., Musée Marmottan Monet, 2012, p. 204).
It is the tight framing, which excludes the sky (only reflected in the water), that distinguishes this work, making it the harbinger of Monet’s innovatory canvases that increasingly focused on the pool of water lilies to the exclusion of all context. The canvas is a harmony of colours, from the greens and pinks of the foliage and trees that reflect in the shimmering blues of the river’s edge with its sparkling white ripples and runs. Some years later, in his Nymphéas series, Monet would progressively reduce these elements down to mere reflections on water. From this understanding, this painting by Morisot is particularly innovative and marks her as an important point in the road to abstraction.
Part of the reason Morisot liked Mézy so much, was the opportunity for her daughter Julie to grow friendships with the local children. Morisot’s daughter, Julie, remembered the little shepherdess, Louis-Gabrielle Dufour, when describing one of the versions of Bergère nue couchée: ‘Gabriele from Mézy, a wild kid who had her first communion with me, is lying here in her lilac skirt with red kerchief on her head, next to her little goat Colette.” (Journal de Julie Manet, Paris, 1979, p. 86.) The subject of the Bergère is not new in the new painting of the time, as is evident in the works of Pissarro, Henri Martin, and even earlier, in the paintings of Morisot’s beloved Corot. It is not the bucolic idyll, the picturesque scene of girl, nor the likeness of the girl that interested Morisot, but the harmony of lines and colour within a subject close to her. The summer of 1891 was particularly inclement. Because of the continuous rain and low temperatures, she could not press upon the models to sit long for her, and certainly not in the freezing water - circumstances which are partly to thank for the spontaneity of the composition and brushwork.
Yet this little painting was proceeded by at least five drawings, one of which, in red chalk, captured the pose of Gabrielle in just a few sure strokes. The influence of Renoir, who was visiting Morisot at this time, is apparent in this type of bather rubbing her foot. But whereas Renoir’s bathers were fleshy, sensual women, Morisot has managed to capture the still youthful grace of an inwardly looking girl making a nervous gesture. For this she was admired by Thadée Nathanson. In a review of a show in Brussels in 1884, he wrote: ‘her feminine level-headed delicateness saves her from both sentimentality and any perverse equivocal appeal, from dwelling on disturbing things. She is not even sensual. However far her mentors and peers may go, she always just expresses a clear-sighted, healthy desire for colour of a transparent serenity.’ (quoted in exh. cat., Musée Marmottan Monet, 2012, p. 204).
It is the tight framing, which excludes the sky (only reflected in the water), that distinguishes this work, making it the harbinger of Monet’s innovatory canvases that increasingly focused on the pool of water lilies to the exclusion of all context. The canvas is a harmony of colours, from the greens and pinks of the foliage and trees that reflect in the shimmering blues of the river’s edge with its sparkling white ripples and runs. Some years later, in his Nymphéas series, Monet would progressively reduce these elements down to mere reflections on water. From this understanding, this painting by Morisot is particularly innovative and marks her as an important point in the road to abstraction.