There’s a chance I might have mentioned the name “Monet” in my previous article. Yes, the painter who a gave birth to Impressionism with his landmark painting, Impresssion, Sunrise. So, my enthusiasm was dramatically heightened upon the riverboat AmaLyra’s arrival to the small rural town of Giverny. Resting on the right bank of the river Seine, it is best known as the location of Claude Monet’s home and gardens. Many of his most famous canvases were painted during his 43 years in Giverny: Clos Normand, where its archways are entwined around colorful shrubs; Haystacks, the 25 canvas series which illustrates different perceptions of light; and Nymphéas (Water Lilies), a 250 oil painting collection of his waterlilies garden with its Japanese bridge.

The story goes that Monet noticed the village of Giverny while looking out a train window, and decided to rent a house and the land surrounding it, later purchasing both in 1890. He soon created his magnificent gardens, magnificent gardens of Spring, Summer and Autumn plants which he would soon paint. Among his favorites were roses, irises, chrysanthemums, dahlias, azaleas and wisterias; arranged in a complicated grid structure with vibrant plant combinations. Yet, while strolling through his enchanted gardens, I found no sense of complication at all, for the overall effect was harmonious, organic and life-enhancing. In essence, the gardens were paintings unto themselves, paintings that were always changing by the season.

After Monet moved his extended family to Giverny – which included second wife, Alice Hoschedé, his two sons from first marriage to Camille-Léonie Doncieux, and six children from Alice’s previous marriage – there was one thing that Monet desired to change; he became sensitive to the existence of an apple tree, which curtailed his views of the garden. Our thoughful AmaLyra guide explained that he had hoped to chop this particular one down to open his scope, but this was a problem for Alice, who adored the apple tree and its pink flowers. As the guide continued with her narrative, she pointed out a colony of alluring roses at the exact spot where the apple tree once stood. Monet had planted Alice’s favorite roses to appease her. Later, Monet and his team of gardeners, would bend the young apple trees’ branches so they would grow horizontally.

With the advent of Monet’s Japanese-inspired waterlily garden, his neighbors protested in fear that the foreign roots would contaminate their own plants and tributaries. He was already disliked by them due to his indifference in conversation and lack of concern about their own well-being. A compromise was issued where Monet’s waterlily garden would remain, but he could only access their property by paying a fee. Monet wholeheartedly agreed, as this was the very terrain he needed to pass when he wheel barrowed canvases and supplies into the surrounding countryside to paint its poppy fields, iris meadows and haystacks.

But soon another invasion was due to arrive, an invasion which would also effect the lives of his neighbors, and reshape the emotional texture of life in Giverny forever.

As Monet’s life and work flourished, several American Impressionists – Willard Metcalf, Louis Ritman, Theodore Wendel, John Leslie Breck – settled in Giverny around 1887. Drawn to its light, atmospheric rural landscapes, and the presence of Monet himself, an art colony slowly emerged. Their artistic life was accented by garden parties with Japanese lanterns, tennis games on a nearby court, and lively discussions and celebrations at Hôtel Baudy – where Monet, Cézanne, Renoir, Sisley, and Rodin once stunned admirers – which became the artistic center of the new colony. Monet was initially receptive of the arrival of the artists, but soon tired of the invasion. He was always too busy with his own projects to take on the role of an art teacher, but, due to his residence, the colony would steadily grow.

But, Monet once did become an instructor in painting. Blanche Hoschedé Monet was both his stepdaughter and daughter-in-law, due to her marriage with Monet’s first son, Jean. She was the only child in the Hoschedé-Monet household that showed a keen interest in painting. At seventeen, she became Monet’s assistant and only student, often painting beside him in the country air. She went on to become an Impressionist painter in her own rite, with exhibitions in shows and galleries. With the passing of Alice Hoschedé, Blanche’s mother and Monet’s second wife, the ageing artist suffered from intense bouts of depression and failing eyesight from cataracts. Blanche took over the household, watching over him as his eyesight was close to blindness.  

Claude Monet lived at Giverny for 43 years before his death in 1926 at the age of 86; his work now highly acclaimed and known throughout the world. Blanche had passed away earlier, and so Michel, the only remaining child of Monet, inherited the 22-acre estate, and bequeathed it to the Académie des Beaux-Arts, with plans to transition it into a museum. In 1980 after a large-scale restoration – the gardens and waterlily pond were carefully replanted, Monet’s home was restored, and his large collection of Japanese woodblock prints were back on display – his home and  gardens were now ready for the world to see.

Japanese woodblock printing originated in ancient China and later brought to Japan. The prints were called ukiyo-e (pictures of the floating world), and gained popularity in the mid-18th century during the Edo period. Edo was then the largest city on earth, now modern-day Tokyo; which still leads the pack today with a population of 14 million.

The artform was used to display reproduced iconic Buddhist scriptures for houses of worships, eventually followed by placements in brothels and theatres. Monet collected more than 249 Japanese woodblock prints for 40 years of his life; among his favorite artists were Kitagawa Utamaro, Katsushika Hokusai and Utagawa Hiroshige, where many are exhibited at his home today.

Monet’s house and gardens sparked a boom in tourism, with approximately 500,000 visitors each year since restoration. Giverny’s other main attractions include the Museum of Impressionism Giverny, dedicated to the history of Impressionism; the 11th century Église Sainte-Radegonde de Giverny, which requires a long walk from the village center, but you’ll see Monet’s final resting place in a tomb outside the church; the free Musée de Mécanique Naturelle (Natural Mechanics Museum); and the Hôtel Baudy, now restored in period decor, and called Restaurant Musee BAUDY, where Mrs Baudy’s omelette is still on the menu.

Monet’s Work Lives On

The painting Meules, part of Monet’s Haystacks series in Giverny, sold for $110.70 million dollars at a Sotheby’s auction in 2019. It was the first Impressionist painting to surpass $100 million dollars. And, Impresssion, Sunrise, once mocked and condemned by art critics, is estimated to be worth $250 – $350 million dollars in today’s currency.

What I learned: Monet loved gardening as much as he loved painting.

POSTSCRIPT: Camille-LéonieDoncieux

Though she never lived in Giverny, a special note should be devoted to Monet’s first wife, the sublime Camille-Léonie Doncieux. She was Monet’s favorite art model and penniless muse, then his mistress and bride, the mother of their two children, and the subject of a number of his paintings: Woman with a Parasol – Madame Monet and Her Son,  Camille (The Woman in the Green Dress), Camille Monet on a Garden Bench, as well as an art model for impressionists Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Édouard Manet.

Camille Monet was far too young to pass away at 32 years of age, believed to be from pelvic cancer, after giving birth to second son, Michel. Monet was grief stricken, yet felt compelled to lock her bedroom door behind him and paint her lifeless body with the aptly titled, Camille on Her Deathbed.

Art history demands to know more about the life of Camille and her relationship with Monet, but due to the jealousy of the second Madame Monet, Alice Hoschede – who insisted that Monet destroy all mementos, letters and photos that even attested to Camille’s existence – it is still somewhat shrouded in mystery today.

Related Articles

• See Part I: Down the Seine to Normandy: Seven Days on the AmaLyra
• See Part III: From Monet Gardens to Gardens of Stone: Seven Days on the AmaLyra
• Stay Tuned for part IV where Ed Boitano writes and Deb Roskamp photographs, The Long Week on the Seiene closes: The royal residence at Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye, France’s Musée d’Archéologie, and the final night on the riverboat AmaLyra.

The post Monet in Giverny: Down the Seine to Normandy on the AmaLyra, Part II appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The clarity of the air was intoxicating as I sat on the the AmaLyra bus in La Havre, France. With small boats in the harbor, I realized it was the same location where Claude Monet created his monumental landmark painting, Impression, Sunrise, which gave birth to the art movement known as Impressionism. Devoid of pictorial realism, it was from his own personal perspective – not from yours or mine – achieved by a series of short impasto brushstrokes and the use of subdued blue-grayish colors, which contrasted with the warmth of the orange sun.

It was revolutionary, but deemed amateurish and unfinished by critics and art institutions; where the visible brushstroke was the antithesis of painting, plus certain elements seemed to be almost cut off in the frame. But, Monet’s work as painter would soon be known throughout the world.

WHAT I LEARNED: The art world would change.

THE RIVER SEINE

The Seine is a 483-mile-long-river in northern France that flows through Paris under its two most famous bridges: The Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge across the river, stands by the Ile de la Cité (City island), once inhabited by the Parisii, a small Gallic tribe in 3rd century BC. Today it is home to Notre-Dame de Paris and Sainte-Chapelle. And the ornate Pont Alexandre III Bridge, with its gilded fames sculptures and nymph reliefs, which reflects the grandeur of the Belle Epoch. Both bridges are classified as a French monument historique. Unlike the Rhine and Danube, also popular for riverboat journeys, the water level on the Seine is regulated by a series of locks, which means smooth sailing as it meets the English Channel.

WHAT I LEARNED: Once you leave Paris, the Seine is historic; charm and beauty await at the many sites stopped at during the riverboat AmaLyra‘s journey.

SO, THIS IS NORMANDY

The first Viking raids began between 790 and 800 on the western coast of France. Normandy takes its name from those Viking invaders, referred to as Nortmanni (“Men of the North” or ”Norse Man”). Their savage raids consisted of plundering treasures stored at monasteries by defenseless monks, kidnappings for slave trade or ransom, generally ending with fires of destruction and death. The Vikings initially wintered in Scandinavia, but then found the warmth and comfort in the Lower Seine Valley more to their liking.

The Viking long-ship is characterized as a light, narrow wooden boat with a shallow draft hull designed for speed, which allowed navigation in shallow waters, making it easy for coving and beach landings. Ships carrying 100 warriors were not uncommon with an estimated 34 rowing positions. Viking leader, Rollo, made it all the way east on the Seine and reached Paris. The Carolingian king, Charles the Simple, struct a deal with Rollo, giving him Rouen and present-day Upper Normandy, establishing the Duchy of Normandy. In exchange, Rollo pledged loyalty to Charles, agreed to baptism and vowed to guard the estuaries of the Seine from future Viking attacks. The rate of Scandinavian colonization was vast, and continued when William the Conquer, Duke of Normandy, defeated England in the Battle of Hastings in 1066, displacing Anglo-Saxon nobility with Norman and reshaping the English language into Anglo-Norman, also known as Anglo-Norman French.

WHAT I LEARNED: It’s complicated.

Château Gaillard, once a towering medieval castle overlooking the Seine, was built by Richard Cœur de Lion (“Richard the Lionheart”) which added to his mystique as a great military leader. He is best remembered as a chivalrous knight in the Third Crusade; despite the neglect of his own realm due to long absence.

Richard was also the great-great grandson of William the Conqueror, and simultaneously the King of England (Richard I) and feudal Duke of Normandy. The Château, now surrounded by a dry moat, was regarded as a naturally defensible position. The remains of its dungeon proved to be the most popular site of the tour. Richard did not enjoy Château Gaillard for long; he died from an infected arrow wound to his shoulder, sustained while attacking Chasteu de Chasluç-Chabròl in 1199.

WHAT I LEARNED: During long battles of siege, local non-combatant populations sought refuge in castles for protection. The fortifications were generally well supplied for a siege, but when the extra mouths to feed rapidly diminished the supplies, led to the eviction of civilians – generally women and children – into the hands of the invaders.

Honfleur is located on the southern bank of the Seine with its sister city La Havre on the other. In the 1600s, Honfleur benefited from a boom in maritime trade which included an expedition by Samuel de Champlain, who founded the city of Quebec in Canada. Today, it is primarily known for its old port, characterized by houses with slate-covered frontages, painted by artists. Monet’s mentor, Eugène Boudin, was born in the Honfleur, and is considered one of the first French landscape painters to paint outdoors. The Sainte-Catherine Church is the largest wooden church in France, with its bell tower across the street to avoid the spread of fire if struct by lightning. Unlike Le Havre, Honfleur was not ravaged by Allied bombings during WWII and was then liberated by the Allied Canadian, British and Belgian armies without any combat.

There’s a chance that tourists outnumbered the locals, but for good reason, with its picturesque cafes hugging the old harbor – you’ll find giant pots of steaming fresh moules (mussels) with bits of camembert cheese waiting for you – fish and vegetable markets, museums and art galleries, inexpensive souvenir shops, and simply strolling through its historic cobblestone streets and functioning old harbor.

WHAT I LEARNED: The people of Honfleur are referred to as Honfleurais.

The chimes of the Gros Horloge (Great Clock) wet my excitement as I entered Rouen’s old town center. Resting on a Renaissance arch, the astronomic clock has spanned Rue du Gros-Horloge since the 14th century, and is considered the defining image of Rouen, the capital city of Normandy.

Renowned for its well-preserved architectural heritage and historic monuments, Rouen was able to survive the Hundred Years’ War and later wave of Allied bombings in 1944, despite the destruction of half of the city, leaving more than 1,200 civilians dead and thousands injured. Bullets and shrapnel can still be found lodged within buildings today. Nevertheless, Rouen regained its economic composure in the post-war period thanks to its industrial sites and large seaport, which today is the fifth largest in France.

It was once said that you could smell Rouen a mile away. With its dank medieval streets, barely wide enough for a donkey to pass, the Rouennais would drop debris and feces out their windows, creating a cesspool with that particularly unique stench, and sometimes diseases of the pandemic kind. Devoid of sunlight, the ground would remain muddy seemingly forever.

But it was the light of the sun that I was more interested in seeing, or, should I say, the light that Monet sought when he painted the Rouen Cathedral (circa 1506) more than thirty times, between 1892 and 1894. Moving from one canvas to another as the day progressed, he painted the facade with highly textured brushstrokes, making the light palpable at different hours of the day. I had always thought he set his easels in front of the cathedral – though he did twice – but learned he painted through windows of buildings across the street, which explains his compositional perspective from various angles. To view those paintings and other Monet and Impressionist masterpieces, though, requires a trip to the Musée d’Orsay and other museums in Paris.

The Jeanne d’Arc Memorial Cross is the centerpiece of a small garden on the Place du Vieux-Marché (market square), the site where a 19-year-old illiterate peasant woman was burned at the stake for witchcraft, heresy and dressing like a man by her English captors. Remember, Rouen was then part of England. But history now explains Jeanne’s death was really more about politics, not theology, when England was at war with France.

The adjacent Church Sainte-Jeanne d’Arc felt a little out of place with its 1970s architecture, surrounded by Norman half-timbered houses, but it does offer an emotional experience with its sweeping curves that evoke the flames that consumed her. Also, its interior is illuminated by the light of 13 pristine Renaissance era stained-glass windows, which were taken from a nearby 16th century church that is now in ruins.

Thirty years after her death, the 19-year-old woman who called herself Jehanne la Pucelle (Joan the Maid; “maid” signifies virginity), was exonerated of all guilt. And by the time she was canonized in 1920 by Pope Benedict XV, Jeanne d’Arc had long been considered one of history’s greatest martyrs, and a patron saint of France.

Renée Jeanne Falconetti in Carl Theodor Dryer’s “La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc.”

Jeanne’s mythical stature has been the inspiration for numerousous works of art in film, song, opera, sculpture, painting, literature and even frivolous computer games and advertising. Her legacy has also inspired two of the cinema’s greatest films: La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc, a 1928 French silent film, directed by Carl Theodor Dryer – famous for the use of the closeup – where you can feel the anguish on actress Renée Jeanne Falconetti’s face. And Robert Bresson’s 1962 minimalistic masterpiece, Procès de Jeanne d’Arc (“The Trial of Joan of Arc”), with both films regarded as profound transcendental works of art.

WHAT I LEARNED: The attractions in Rouen are immense, but, if you have time, walk up to the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Rouen for Impressionist paintings. The building and park facing it are magnificent and entrance is free. Here you will see limited works by Monet, Sisley, Renoir, Degas and Pissarro without any crowds and that tall guy in a hat, plus more artists, such as Corot, Derain, Dufy, Modigliani and Vuillard.

The long day in Rouen closed with A Taste of Normandy, where our group sampled Norman cider, Calvados apple brandy, an abundant selection of local creamy cheeses and pieces of fine Rouennais chocolate. My taste buds were endowed with pleasures of the palate, but with little attention to my own waist line, my photographer and I charged back to the AmaLyra for – what else – cocktails and dinner with the new friends we had made.

WHAT I LEARNED: Don’t miss it.

Tous à bord!

Related Articles

• See Part II: Monet in Giverny: Down the Seine to Normandy on the AmaLyra, Part II where Ed Boitano describes Monet’s home, gardens and life in Giverny.
• See Part III: From Monet Gardens to Gardens of Stone: Seven Days on the AmaLyra where Ed Boitano writes and Deb Roskamp photographs Operation Overlord Beachheads, German bunkers and the Normandy American Cemetery.
• See Part IV: The Long Week Closes: Seven Days on the AmaLyra where Ed and Deb cover the Louvre Museum, the Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye and the Musée d’Archéologie Nationale.

The post On the Seine to Normandy: Seven Days on the AmaLyra appeared first on Traveling Archive.

“The professional art dealer is a profession that only makes sense if you do it with your heart,” explains Angela Rosengart, as she leads me through the ground floor of the collection that bears her name. She wears a pink sweater highlighted by a necklace of gold-colored pedants. Her silvery hair is tied back tight around her head. Speaking from half a century of art acquisitions, she continues, adding that a dealer shouldn’t get too attached to the paintings. If that happens, you’re in trouble, since you might find it difficult to sell them and maintain the business.

Angela is the daughter of Siegfried Rosengart, who passed away in 1985 after a lucrative career as one of the 20th century’s most distinguished art dealers. Based in Lucerne, Switzerland, he and Angela operated the business together for decades, often purchasing works for their own personal appreciation rather than for any intention of moving them as product. In the process of becoming close friends with Pablo Picasso, Marc Chagall, Paul Klee and nearly every high-profile European artist from the 1940s onward, the Rosengarts amassed an unrivaled collection. As dealers, they knew everyone.

After her father died, Angela eventually created a foundation to keep the paintings and make them publicly available. Since 2002, the Rosengart Collection, now over 300 works, has occupied the austere neoclassical building at Pilatusstrasse 10 in Lucerne, formerly the Swiss National Bank, just a few blocks from where the Reuss River flows into the lake. Upon acquiring the old place, Angela hired the Basel-based architect Roger Diener to transform the building into a museum-style structure with subtle lighting and wide spaces to enhance the viewer’s experience of the artwork. Much of the original ornamentation remains. Diener wanted a simple look. Nothing superfluous, nothing grandiose.

“He understood painting and he was fond of old buildings,” Angela tells me.

Picasso was a friend of the Rosengart family, so the entire ground floor features his works, mostly from the later decades. One moves through the work chronologically. For example, one gallery is primarily dedicated to the ’50s, while the next covers the early ’60s. There are many paintings of Picasso’s various lovers.

Picasso even famously sketched and painted Angela Rosengart herself. Another floor features David Douglas Duncan’s photographs of Picasso at work in his studio, including a few shots from October, 1963, with Angela sitting in a chair, as Picasso draws her.

“I had to sit there and endure the looks from his eyes,” Angela tells me. “The looks were like arrows.”

As we move through the rooms, I can feel the sheer vitality of Picasso’s output emanating from the walls of Pilatusstrasse 10. It’s like stepping into his very own studio. For example, as we turn a corner, Angela leads me into another space featuring some of Picasso’s etchings from 1968.

“He did something like 347 etchings that year,” she explains. “He would complete one after the other.”

Nothing beats exploring a three-story art collection, guided by the benefactress herself. I’m almost star-struck. It’s hard to speak. Yet Angela is no rock star. During my tour, tourists filter through and ask the inevitable vacuous question: Which painting is your favorite? But Angela says there’s no way to answer. It changes every day. This is also how writers respond when readers pry into which story, or book, or column is the most favorite one, a question no writer can answer, except to say, “That’s like asking which one of your children is the most favorite one.” So I get it.

With the utmost of humility, Angela won’t even refer to the works as a collection. Instead, she repeats over and over that she “simply has beautiful pictures.”

Aside from Picasso, the beautiful pictures include works by Paul Klee, Matisse, Monet, Kandinsky, Leger, Braque, Seurat, Renoir and Cezanne. With even more humility, Angela reiterates that the entire “collection” happened by accident. She and her father never planned to present them as a “collection” of any sort.

“The paintings were acquired over the years and we just didn’t want to part with them,” she admits.

In fact, her father never even planned to be an art dealer in the first place. That was likewise accidental. Initially, Siegfried served as general manager of the Lucerne branch of the Munich-based Thannhauser Gallery before taking over the gallery himself in 1937. After that, he operated the business as sole owner under his own name. His life just unfolded in such a way that he became a world-renowned dealer and agent.

Angela grew up with it all. At age 17, she purchased her first work, a piece from the Paul Klee estate. She paid fifty Swiss Francs, one month’s salary at that time, for a piece titled Little X. The piece now adorns one wall in the museum.

Eventually Angela joined on as co-owner of the business and although the father and daughter made a living buying and selling works of art for decades, they often found themselves in a dilemma. In their hearts, they really didn’t want to get rid of anything. They developed a personal attachment to many of the works.

None of which could have been planned. Growing up, Angela never dreamed Pablo Picasso would eventually draw her likeness five times. He gave her all the drawings, a few of which also hang in the collection.

“I like to say I snuck into immortality through the back door,” she tells me, with a subtle grin.

I get the feeling she’s probably rattled off these lines before, but if I had received my own portraits directly from Picasso, I’d repeat myself a thousand times. I’d shout from the street corner. I’d run down to the bar and tell the story over and over.

Yet Angela doesn’t need to show off. She instead exudes an overflowing sense of gratitude, humility and a Zen-like serenity—all of which is infectious. As we stand there, tourists continue to filter through and pillory her with the same questions she’s been asked for decades. She rolls with it. There is no ego. In fact, it feels no different than a hostess introducing me to her family, the paintings being her kin, of course.

We then move into yet another room. Gracing one wall is the painting, Dancer II, by the Catalan master Joan Miro.

“He was a friend too,” Angela adds.

Finally, we descend into the basement, formerly the vault of the Swiss National Bank, now split into separate rooms dedicated entirely to the Swiss artist Paul Klee. Over 100 of Klee’s watercolors, drawings and paintings hang chronologically, providing tremendous insight into the evolution of his various styles and themes.

In the basement, the walls seem three feet thick. It cost $100,000 to break through one wall in order to divide up the space. The concrete floor is now covered with 100-year-old wood flooring that Diener discovered in an old home. The flooring gives the basement a homey feel.

“It has a new life,” Angela says.

Angela never married or had kids. She tells numerous visitors that the paintings are her children, a line I again sense she’s been forced to repeat many times.

Through Angela, I experience a living connection to some of the twentieth century’s most illustrious artists. If she indeed snuck into immortality through the back door, then I am now one trans-generational Kevin Bacon degree of separation from Picasso, Miro, Paul Klee and Chagall. Only in Lucerne could I say this. No matter what happens, Angela will live forever through this immaculate collection, an inspiration to anyone whose life has unfolded by accident.

The post The Rosengart Collection: It All Happened by Accident appeared first on Traveling Archive.