A pile of old New Yorkers appeared on the kitchen table last week, and in among the little illustration-per-page treats and wonderfully Manhattan cartoons I discovered Frédéric Bazille. Like his younger contemporary Caillebotte, he left a tantalisingly small portfolio of paintings. He was friends with Monet, Renoir and Sisley; he posed for Manet’s Le Dejeuner Sur L’Herbe, and Monet painted a portrait of Bazille’s 6′2″ frame into the picture of friends in his studio. His pictures experiment with breaking the same conventions - by choosing contemporary subjects instead of history or allegory, and painting nature outdoors instead of in, to capture the true effect of light. They remind you how these art students had to wrestle with both the stultifying conservatism of the Paris Academy and the invention of photography.
Bazille painted the world outside his head - his studio, landscapes that look like snapshots, his friends (eg Monet recuperating after getting hit on the leg by an early, metal, frisbee) and fabulous flower still-lifes. And then at 28, he volunteered, naïvely and patriotically, for the 1870 Franco-Prussian war, telling friends “I won’t get killed, I’ve got so many things I want to do” and was shot dead two weeks later.