Solitude Swarming With People: Dialogue at Musée Marmottan Monet
On the outskirts of Paris sits a gem of both structure and content: the Musée Marmottan Monet. Partially hidden beneath leafy trees dappled in sunlight, it greets visitors with a graceful handshake and a polite nod. Elegant from the exterior, I wondered what the Marmottan Monet offered inside in terms of decoration and display of the artwork.
The first of my museum visits, I had chosen to journey to the Marmottan because the world’s largest collection of Monet’s works are held within its walls as part of the permanent collection. In 1966, over 60 of Monet’s works were given to the museum by Michel Monet (Monet’s son), the last direct heir of Monet. Along with Monet’s oeuvre, other works acquired through bequests helped establish the Marmottan Monet museum as a center for Impressionism. And it’s no secret- Monet is by far my favorite artist (and no, NOT for all the cliche reasons most people state— more on that in another post), and Impressionism stands as one of the art movements that inspires me endlessly.
Entering the museum, the interior of the space mirrors the exterior in its beauty and decoration. On the main level, the rooms are decorated as they were before the mansion became a museum.
Ornate chandeliers hang from the ceilings, a spiral staircase leads visitors upstairs, and sculptures displayed alongside paintings on the wall blur the line between what is purely interior decoration and specifically selected artworks for public criticism and view. Yet some spaces, like the Berthe Morisot room upstairs, are distinctly modern and not decorated according to the Marmottan’s former life.
For instance, instead of including extensive interior decoration and 20th century furniture, the room only features two wooden benches, intended for use and viewing artwork. Walls are painted gray to emphasize Morisot’s use of color and hand. Downstairs, artworks extend themselves almost as continuations and extensions of the interior decorations and furniture, while upstairs the works stand by themselves— they are the sole points of emphasis.
However, as I gazed at Morisot’s works and others nearby, the naturesque imagery present in the furniture and decorations of the main level appeared at the forefront of my mind. While downstairs, I observed that the furniture and displayed artworks related to one another deeply. In both the paintings on the wall and crafted furniture, the presence of organic shape held prevalent. The curvilinear, leafy adornment of frames mimicked both subject-matter and the appearance of the artist’s brushstrokes in several Impressionist works. Even the colors of the museum walls-- creams and various shades of blue-- created a bond with the color palette of the artists working within the Impressionist Period.
Thus began my deciphering and perceiving of the Marmottan as a place of endless connections. Its various elements, including those of structure, decoration, and artwork--both permanent and temporary-- are in constant dialogue with one another.
As I explored the Marmottan further, I found that it while it emphasizes Impressionist work, it does not limit itself to only an Impressionistic conversation. Among its permanent collection are works from art historical periods outside of Impressionism, like Neo-Classicism and Realism. History paintings commemorating Napoleon, sculptures referencing Roman and Greek antiquity, and large tapestries are included. A room full of illuminated manuscripts is situated upstairs. Currently a temporary exhibition, entitled “Oriental Visions From Dreams Into Light”, showcases various works--spanning from those of Ingres and Delacroix to modern art-- that react to and comment on the influence of Asia. Furthermore, through the “Unexpected Dialogues” program, Germard Fromanger, a contemporary artist, has a current exhibition in which he explicitly has created works that relate to the museum’s permanent collection.
Suddenly the conversation in this relatively small museum setting became quite loud. Suddenly the space no longer seemed silent-- artists long gone still had something to say, brushstrokes spoke for themselves, furniture called from across the room, contemporary artists spoke with old masters, artworks inspired by different and similar places and time periods said hello. Suddenly it all made sense-- this is what art is all about.
Relationships. Conversations. Dialogues.
Art does not just hang on a wall, left solely for admiration. No- art SPEAKS, and if you listen, it speaks loudly-- for itself, for all the past works it contains within, for the works to come after its time... Nothing is created out of a vacuum. Is any artwork every truly original? Does an artist ever create alone? As I remember the conglomeration of works that hung next to each other in the Marmottan, I must say no, as each provided a commentary that swirled with that of another.
Acknowledging the never-ending conversation that takes place within art history, I began to listen in at the Marmottan. It was in this listening that I began to really hear what the works were all about, and in hearing to relate to the works and the space itself in a more intimate way.
Art speaks so as to relate, and it is through these relationships that we as viewers can begin to relate with art.
As the Marmottan was the first museum I visited in Paris, I held this deep notion of art as “being in relation” as I visited other art museums last week... and I think this notion will continue to hold me. I will keep Gerard Fromanger’s words in mind, as they rang true as I read them for the first time at the Marmottan:
“My canvas is never white. It is black with all the other artists, with all the art history and all the things I have already done. My solitude is swarming with people.”
Thank you, Musée Marmottan Monet, for providing such a lively conversation, for inviting me in, and leaving me changed.
