One might say Monet's series on the
Rouen Cathedral was a collection of paintings of sunlight. By focusing on
the changing effects of sunlight on subject matter, his paintings became about
capturing sunlight (if that makes sense).
He painted the west façade of the Rouen Cathedral in northern France
much like his haystacks, at different times of day and in different
lights. Because he could not walk around
the giant church as easily as the small haystacks in the empty field, he
painted from almost the exact position each day; so the view of the church
never changes. In that sense, Monet
recreated the same painting over and over again, never changing either subject
matter or perspective. But the paintings
all differ, of course, because the changing sunlight and atmosphere of the air
greatly affect the look of the building.
Sometimes clear, other times enshrouded in fog; sometimes bright in
noon-time light, other times fading into the darkness of dusk—the series shows
nearly every imaginable lighting of the church, and yet Monet was revealing
that an object can never be exhaustively painted; that it will always be
different, always changing. He painted
over thirty canvases just of this subject alone, and yet if we went to the Rouen
Cathedral today it might still look distinct from any one of these paintings. The sunlight's effect might be totally new
each and every day inasmuch as no two days are identical to each other. The subject matter will be the same, the
church will not have changed, but it will appear different; and, what is more,
our experience of it will be unique to the moment. And if these paintings really are of
sunlight, the intangible daylight that characterizes our routine lives, then
Monet is showing us that it is never the same, never as constant as we think it
is, and therefore perhaps never fully understandable.
We have seen great works of art
depicting vast landscapes and grandiose historical, mythological, and biblical
scenes of heroes, warriors, saints, and kings.
The ideas conveyed in these works have all contained a mighty profundity
of their own, ranging from themes of good and evil, life and death, joy and
grief, love and hatred. And we've seen
portraits showing many memorable faces, thinking those, too, were poignant to
look at. But this, now, is a game
changer. Impressionism, more than any
other artistic movement we have looked at thus far, deconstructs the nature of
artistic subject matter in paintings and calls for a completely reverted
approach to art theory—almost like going back to the beginning, but really
going back further. All those great subjects
in the paintings we saw—and yet now artists like Claude Monet paint a mere
building thirty times, trying to capture the way the sun looks, and claim that
even that isn't enough. By painting such
a basic subject so many times, the artist seems to express the revelation that
we can't even fully grasp a single photon of light, let alone the majestic
works of saints and martyrs. Within the
minutiae, the apparently small and inconsequential universe, there is inexpressible
complexity. That an entire movement of
artists should choose to focus on the elementary theme of sunlight—something we
see around us every day of our lives, something as commonplace as air
itself—just goes to show the extent of the Modernist perspective, that we, in a
way, had to reintroduce ourselves with the world. After the Industrial Revolution, artists
reverted back to studying these types of things and saw that the world itself
is always changing and always blending in and out of new lights.
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