Renoir: The Body, The Senses and Ida O'Keeffe: Escaping Georgia's Shadow at The Clark

The Bathers, 1918-19 - oil on canvas, Musée d’Orsay, Paris

All works shown are by Pierre-Auguste Renoir, except where noted

Each summer's must-see show is usually at The Clark (aka the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute) in Williamstown, Mass., and this year is no exception. But Renoir: The Body, The Senses isn't a typical blockbuster - rather than just mount a massive display of the great artist's work on the centenary of his death, this show's creators have delved into a central theme of the French Impressionist Pierre-Auguste Renoir's oeuvre, and have built on that thread using striking examples from a stellar supporting cast.

Paul Cézanne - The Battle of Love, c. 1880

oil on canvas, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

So, if you're going in order to relish the Renoir nudes (that's the theme), you won't be disappointed. But expect much more: There are so many other artists' paintings in this show that it really isn't a solo at all. And, frankly, a few of them could easily overshadow Renoir, if given the chance.

Still, after viewing many telling juxtapositions at the Clark, I found that Renoir, at his best, could  stand up to Cezanne, Degas, Corot, Delacroix, Matisse, and Picasso (among others), though at times I had my doubts. Credit the show's organizers for having the courage to allow viewers this unique opportunity to compare and contrast (they are Esther Bell at the Clark, and George T. M. Shackelford, at the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth, Texas, where the show will be installed in the fall).

Three Right Figures and Part of a Foot

(Study for The Great Bathers), c. 1884–87

chalk on paper, private collection

Their intentions are to show Renoir's influences (in part by including others' paintings that he owned) as well as his influence (represented by those who followed in time), as well as to present his entire career through a single subject. The show fulfills both goals nicely. It also allows plenty of immersion in Renoir himself, especially in one room that presents a series of study drawings that led to a single very large painting (entitled The Great Bathers, it's not included in the exhibition, but related examples serve as helpful mates to the drawings).

For a former student of figure drawing, this lovely oval-shaped room filled with dazzlingly executed studies in red and white chalk was like a dream, worthy of long minutes spent gaping from near and far (helped by nifty benches that mirror the walls' curves). These drawings alone could have cemented Renoir's position as one of the all-time greats.

Bather Arranging Her Hair, 1885

oil on canvas, Clark Art Institute

But the best of the paintings do trump them. One of those, entitled Bather Arranging Her Hair (from 1885 and part of the Clark's large collection of Renoir's work) is outstanding in that it works the figure and her drapery into a compelling distant seascape, all of it perfectly rendered in Renoir's seductive Impressionist colors.

Other outstanding works in the show are not so dependent on color, in particular the only one of a male figure. Entitled Boy with a Cat, this enigmatic painting is prominently used in publicity for the show, perhaps due to its frisson of 21st-century androgyny, or maybe simply because it is so good. Juicily flanked by two equally provocative female nudes, one by Corot and the other a Renoir of the boy's older sister (who, at twenty, was Renoir's lover), the painting provides the moment in the exhibition where any viewer still possessing hormones must surrender to the understanding that this art is unashamedly about sex.

Boy with a Cat, 1868

oil on canvas, Musée d’Orsay, Paris

(Not that there's anything wrong with that!)

But, of course it's also about much more - form, color, light and,  most importantly, the freedom to break the rules, to experiment. It's easy to forget that it was super radical in the 1880s to paint a figure in realistic strokes, to include colors that weren't flattering, to distort reality to make it feel more real. These efforts and effects are among the reasons Renoir was highly esteemed among his peers, even if he was often reviled by contemporary critics, and why his influence then - as now - matters.

So, if, like me, you see the Degas pastels, the Cezanne oils, the Picassos and the Matisse in this show and think, "gee, they were even better than Renoir," bear in mind that those artists regarded  him as a master to emulate. If he devolved in later years into a commercialized shadow of his former self, cranking out the popular kitsch (my opinion, as represented by the image at the top of this post), it doesn't tarnish the giant achievements of his younger days.

Edgar Degas  - After the Bath, Three Nude Women, c. 1895

pastel on paper, private collection

Speaking of youth, the show did bring up one question for me, regarding the apparent age of Renoir's models. It may be that in his time it was socially acceptable to lust after underage girls (and make pictures of them), but in our present moment it felt a bit icky to be in a public gallery ogling paintings that emphasize both the childishness of the subjects' faces and the engorged readiness of their bodies (e.g., A Young Girl with Daisies, painted in 1889 when the artist was about 70 years old, now found here, reproduced on a yoga mat). I'd be curious to know if anyone else felt at all the same, and whether this was also part of the organizers' intent.

In addition to the Renoir exhibition, the Clark is presenting Ida O'Keeffe: Escaping Georgia's Shadow, which features several strong paintings and prints by a sister of the iconic feminist painter (Renoir ends on Sept. 22, while O'Keeffe continues through Oct. 14).

Ida Ten Eyck O’Keeffe

Variation on a Lighthouse Theme II, c. 1931-32

oil on canvas, private collection

Relatively unknown, Ida O'Keeffe had a minor fine art career while working mostly as a teacher, but her work is worthy of the attention this show brings to it, and the show provides a unique opportunity to see the work as a body, with all of its elements having been brought together from diverse private collections. The show also includes a fun array of snapshots of Ida and other family members, taken by her brother-in-law Alfred Stieglitz (and of him by Ida).

It's clear that Ida had a promising start, as the centerpiece of the show is a series of six variations on a lighthouse, each a stunning experiment in Modernism that she executed while still a student. Other paintings in the show exude the same lushness we've come to know from her sister's studies of flowers, as well as total abstraction, and curious night paintings in grisaille.

This inconsistency is no doubt part of what held Ida O'Keeffe back from a bigger success but, altogether, her art is still well worth a look.

Also worth some time during your visit is a sound installation originally created in 2001 by the Canadian artist Janet Cardiff that "deconstructs Thomas Tallis’s sixteenth-century choral work Spem in alium (Hope in any other) by assigning each of the forty voices to a single freestanding speaker in the gallery" (description from the Clark's website). The result, entitled The Forty Part Motet, is an intriguing and powerful listening experience, and certainly not the usual fare of this generally more traditional venue (continuing through Sept. 15).

Summer's not over - yet - so get out and enjoy these shows while you can.

Installation view of The Forty Part Motet, by Janet Cardiff

Van Gogh and Nature at The Clark

Vincent Van Gogh - A Wheatfield with Cypresses, 1889 oil on canvas
The National Gallery, London

Here's what's obvious: You must not miss Van Gogh and Nature at The Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Mass., which ends its exclusive run there on Sept. 13. Simply put, you will never get another chance to see such a breathtaking collection of this artist's work - gathered from all over the world - together again. Ever.

Here's what may be less obvious: The title of the show, and its claim to being “the first exhibition devoted to the artist’s abiding exploration of nature in all its forms” are off the mark. Take, for example, the brilliant painting reproduced above. The sky and mountains are not wrought by human intervention, however personally interpreted by the painter, and the wind ruffling the many plants below that sky is all natural. But what about those plants, and that landscape they inhabit? This is not by any means a natural place. It is dominated by a cultivated wheatfield, cypresses, and olive trees that were, I'm fairly certain, planted by people, in a place that was most likely clear cut centuries before Vincent laid eyes on it. Is this nature?

Giant Peacock Moth, 1889
Chalk with pen and brush and ink on paper
Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

Elsewhere in the exhibition, text and images do support the intriguing and meaningful notion that Van Gogh was keenly interested in and moved by natural phenomena, particularly plants and insects. It could be argued that his deeply felt and vividly expressed responses to the world around him, including forces of weather and geology, are the wellspring of his genius and his popularity. But much of what Van Gogh observed so sensitively and depicted so richly (even in this selection) was culture - agriculture most particularly, as well as architecture, industry, religion, and other human inventions.

Hospital at Saint-Rémy, 1889
oil on canvas, Hammer Museum, Los Angeles

And the power of his work, the legacy that keeps the crowds coming to blockbusters such as this one, is as much about human nature - in the form of the psychology of the sensitive, spiritual, suffering artist - as it is about anything else. Frequently overheard throughout my visit to the exhibition were comments related to Van Gogh's psychological states: his anger, his ecstacy, his mental illness, his tragic suicide at 37. Many of the finest paintings in this show were made while Van Gogh was living in the mental hospital at Saint-Rémy, where he had placed himself voluntarily; in one late letter, referring to a painting that depicts a landscape in the rain (shown at the bottom of this review), he wrote, “before such nature I feel powerless.” Not to belabor a point, but the painting also depicts a dense little village across its middle.

The exhibition is also about history - Vincent's personal history, tidily summed up in wall texts that guide visitors through sections devoted to key locations and periods in the artist's career (Holland 1881-85; Paris 1886-88; Provence 1888-90; and Auvers 1890), and the history of his influences, with excellent examples of other artists' work, including a lovely Monet from the Clark's collection, works by Millet, and woodblock prints by Hiroshige (all considered major influences on Van Gogh).

Undergrowth, 1887 oil on canvas Centraal Museum, Utrecht

What many people will learn for the first time here is the stunning fact that Van Gogh's entire career as an artist spanned barely 10 years, only five of which were spent painting. He is (rightly) revered as a towering figure of modern art (Impressionism was the first modern movement), yet he was very young, and still rapidly developing, when he died. The chief benefit of the "nature" thesis presented at The Clark is that it caused a good number of minor works to be included - drawings, sketches, early paintings, and experiments - which demonstrate how incompletely formed this artist was even a year or two before the final burst of creative intensity that cemented his importance.

Green Wheat Fields, Auvers, 1890 oil on canvas
National Gallery of Art, Washington

Who knew that Van Gogh tried pointillism, or made bumbling botanical illustrations, or was, early on, apparently rather intimidated by color? That he struggled for years before finding his own mode of expression puts him on equal footing with all unsuccessful artists - that he actually found his mode and then realized it fully enough in the brief time before his death to leave a lasting legacy is an astounding achievement. Nature caused Vincent to do this, and its overwhelming forces cost him both his sanity and his life. What he accomplished along the way is one of the most valuable slices of human culture to be found anywhere. The Clark show offers a once-in-a-lifetime chance to soak up a huge chunk of it. Go and revel.

Rain–Auvers, 1890 oil on canvas
Amgueddfa Cymru—National Museum of Wales, Cardiff

Whistler's Mother

The Clark is also showcasing one of the most famous American paintings of all time, through Sept. 27. Popularly known as "Whistler's Mother," James McNeill Whistler's monumental  Arrangement in Grey and Black, No. 1 (Portrait of the Artist's Mother) normally resides at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, but it is here on loan as part of a reciprocal arrangement from a recent European tour of some of The Clark's French masterpieces.

We recognize Whistler's own masterpiece from the countless reproductions, parodies, and ads that have borrowed the dour central figure, which experts have said is only incidentally part of this modern composition. The Clark has provided well thought-out accompaniment in the form of numerous fine lithos and etchings, as well as several examples of the painting's many pop-cultural takeoffs. Grab the trolley or take a stroll up to the Lunder Center at Stone Hill to enjoy the view and peruse the painting's "musical notions of harmony and balance."

James McNeill Whistler, Arrangement in Grey and Black, No. 1
(Portrait of the Artist's Mother) 1871 oil on canvas Musée d'Orsay, Paris

Walter Launt Palmer: Painting the Moment at the Albany Institute of History & Art

Wheat and Poppies, 1889-90 pastel on paper

Everybody knows the blockbuster show of the summer is Van Gogh at the Clark - all the more reason you should check out the work of his Albany contemporary, Walter Launt Palmer, on view at the Albany Institute of History & Art through Aug. 16. Born into an artistic family in 1854 (Vincent was one year older), Palmer started early and enjoyed a long, successful painting career. At first he held to the Victorian mode, but by the 1880s he was a full-on American Impressionist, no doubt influenced by the same movement that brought us the ever astonishing Van Gogh.

Library at Arbour Hill, 1898 oil on canvas

This comprehensive exhibition of Palmer's three significant series fills the big upstairs gallery of the Institute, which owns most of the paintings presented here (a select few are borrowed from private collectors). It begins with early still life and nature sketches, revealing a very skilled hand that would later be put to the particular task of painting lavish interiors. Two of those highly detailed works that he was regularly commissioned to make depict rooms in the house that gave Arbor Hill its name (now known as the Ten Broeck Mansion) and, with their dark, Victorian air, show why Palmer eventually stopped this pursuit - it was ruining his vision.

Venetian Scene 1890-1900
watercolor and pastel on paper

Transitioning through better interiors painted in England, Palmer re-emerged into the light, and an extremely adept landscape and cityscape painter was allowed to blossom. The influence he acquired during extended visits to France and, especially, Venice led to a finely tuned sense of atmosphere that at times recalls the Luminists (George Inness, for example) but also reveals Palmer as a latter-day Hudson River School painter (he was tutored at an early age by Frederic Edwin Church). There are several mountain views included in this exhibition, and they are as good as most produced by the members of that great group.

Catskill Clove, 1880 pastel on paperboard

Eventually, Palmer became known as a painter of snow scenes, which he executed in a range of modes featuring subtle shades, surprising colors, and the intensity of his final frosted fantasy (shown at the end of this post). One reason I like these paintings is that they remind me of Salem, N.Y., painter Harry Orlyk's vividly colorful explorations of snowy landscapes, and it's gratifying to feel there is a continuous chain of regional artists going back through the centuries.

Winter Twilight, 1903 oil on canvas

In usual Institute fashion, Painting the Moment is amply labeled with informative details about the artist, his times, and not only the pictures themselves, but the people and places they depict. This adds to the overall experience of the exhibition as a window on Albany's past as a significant center of wealth and power.

It's worth noting that the Albany Institute is also featuring Triple Play, a trio of baseball exhibitions that will hold the attention of fans and non-fans alike for hours. It runs through July 26.

The White World, 1932 oil on canvas