The other great painter of this
time produced artwork of a slightly different style, one which stemmed from
Realism and anticipated Impressionism but did not strictly adhere to
either. Édouard Manet was a Modernist.
The aftermath of Victorian
industrialism was the creation of an entirely new world at the expense of the
former. Old, natural landscapes gave
rise to mass mechanization. The construction
of factories and larger cities was altering the terrain of the Western world,
requiring the "Modern man" to adapt to a new setting for
survival. Steel mills would replace
pastoral landscapes, and the oil and grime of major cities (such as London,
which, during the Victorian Era, was just filthy) would blot out man's connection
to the terra firma, nature, Mother
Earth, and, in a way, God. Technology,
which the Romantics had feared would replace humanity, was completely
overtaking Europe's socioeconomic culture by the latter half of the 19th
century. This and the 20th
century were ages in which scientific innovation skyrocketed on an
exponentially increasing "J"-curve scale—and these advancements still
continue to soar to this day (don't they, Apple users). Modernism arose from the tragic separation
which philosophers distinguished between man and nature, the innocent and the
corrupt, the morally upright and the morally obscure. It was the developing philosophy of the time
which took into account the tragic loss of the old Romanticism of rural,
countryside utopias but accepted this new, highly industrialized urban
metropolis as the present reality which mankind sadly but inevitably must learn
to live in.
The world was completely changing
in an unprecedented way. Scientific
inventions that would forever revolutionize modern life were being produced at
a mounting rate. The typewriter, the
telephone, the motion picture camera, the machine gun, the gramophone, the
internal combustion engine, the automobile, Coca Cola—these are just a few of
the discoveries introduced in the latter half of the 19th century,
and with these physical innovations came the expanded philosophy of the Modern
mind. Paradigm shifts of unequivocal
proportion were being published nearly every decade. In 1859, Charles Darwin published Origin of Species; Gregor Mendel's
studies on genetics were published the following decade; in 1873, James Clerk
Maxwell published his treatise on electromagnetism; and at the end of the
1890s, Sigmund Freud's Interpretation of
Dreams was published. Western
history was advancing at a rapid pace the likes of which had never before been
witnessed.
The atmosphere brought on by all of
these great advancements was decidedly less positive. In the latter half of the 19th
century, prostitution in England rose to an all-time high; cities all across
Europe became dirtier; and crime increased.
The effects of industrialism, then, were not specific to the scientific
community alone. The entire scene of
everyday life was changed, to the point of an almost unrecognizable world, and
painting had to change along with it.
Modernism, then—and the word invokes such a broad meaning, infamously
difficult to define; so we're not using it here so much in its most
comprehensive sense as we are using it in the context of its relation to art
and art history—Modernism grew from the need of the "Modern man" to
assimilate to this new environment and re-assess, so to speak, the world around
him. Most outspokenly, the French poet
Charles Baudelaire wrote on this subject of the changing Western world and the
new rules that sort of needed to be "invented" in order to operate
within its foreign structure.
In a significant essay for the
history of art entitled The Painter of
Modern Life, Baudelaire described the way in which art needed to change to
match the speedily advancing times and rapidly increasing industrialization. His was a new conception of what an artist
should be, and to describe this new type of artist he coined the term flâneur.
Baudelaire defined a flâneur
as a "man of the world," an observer who spends his time in the
crowds and masses to get a feel for what people are really like and what the
world is truly about. This individual
connects to his fellow humans, is popular among crowds—a man of the people—and
he uses his observations of daily public life to arrive at both personal and
universal truth. The actual word in
French indicates someone who strolls idly around; Baudelaire's flâneur does spend the majority of his
time as a bystander or spectator among the multitudes, but he does so in a more
philosophical sense, seeking larger insight about mankind. Because nature has been engulfed by this
late-Victorian industrialization, the new sector for the discovery of profound,
universal truth lies in the city, the metropolitan circle, with the collective
organism, la foule, which lives and
breathes in as flighty and energetic a manner as the forces of nature
themselves. The effect of so many people
in a single urban environment Baudelaire likened to a "kaleidoscope." Baudelaire argued that a true artist could
never become bored in the presence of people, since therein would be found all
of his inspiration, interest, and insight in the world. After all, life is always active, kinetic,
moving forward in a constant immediacy that, if you don't pay attention and
keep up with it, is gone in a flash.
Studying the old masters was well enough, but newer generations of
painters, Baudelaire wrote, would do well to live in medias res and address their art to the contemporary issues of
their own present environment. Truth was
now to be found in the moment, given that the constant of nature (remember
Thomas Cole's Course of the Empire) had been done away with and replaced by
this new, industrialized, Modern world.
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