Eliminate false hope- yet hope has value. Here she is.
Pierre-Cécile Puvis de Chavannes, who discovered his particule in adult life, painted her the year after the Franco-Prussian War. She sits on the ground- a burial mound, I read- in front of ruins. Yet new growth comes already, in the oak sapling before her sheet. She is calm, open, receptive. The catastrophe has not crushed her. Christophe André, in whose book I found her, calls her visage “triumphant”, though I do not think that is quite it, merely confident. Would that I could enlarge the face, but that is the largest net reproduction I can find.
Most net reproductions are of the alternative.
I loathe this. The burial mound becomes a wall, the sheet a dress: bowdlerisation is boring, but the nudity was not particularly erotic. Those who would demand she be clothed would not have understood “erotic” in art, only be applying rules. Her bare toes are peeking out- “looked on as something shocking,” but not breaking the rules. I find her face revolting. She is a lady, her face composed to receive visitors, her hair done. She is putting on an act. Her right wrist seems much stronger than the other’s, for she is striking a pose. The other has, in the moment, found the olive branch, peace, and holds it up for us to see. She is present in the moment, unselfconscious, ready.
Though it could be fashion. The ruins are less impressionistic, and I know impressionism is better.
Hope is openness to all that is good, all that is possible. Hope is false if delusion. The first message of Christ that I find in his own words is, face reality. Accept reality. There is so much more, but that is the urgency of it. Even “Love one another” comes from Reality.
Here’s a study for the painting. Of course she was intended to be nude.
Gauguin loved the painting.
I note she turns away. We see her profile- perhaps if we saw her face, her face would be all his painting. And the plants are emphasised- perhaps his flowers are that hope, full grown.