Paul Cézanne Madame Cézanne in the Conservatory Part.1

I. The Transition of Portraiture

When facing the portraiture of Cézanne, one must shed common preconceptions about portraiture. Traditionally (at least until Cézanne’s era), portraiture was seen as a form of representation that not only offered aesthetic pleasure but also conveyed various aspects of the depicted individual. Portraits were meant to reveal how a person looked, their character, and their way of life.

Of course, the actual emphasis in a work would vary depending on the artist’s temperament, societal conventions, and the patron’s intentions. Some artists would passionately strive to faithfully reproduce the model’s appearance, while others might attempt to convey the model’s character or psychology through the canvas. When painting royalty or the powerful, one would need to emphasize social standing or authority, and sometimes even weave a narrative. Therefore, an artist had to consider various elements, including the overall composition, the model’s attire, posture, accessories, setting, and background.

However, the portraits by Cézanne almost completely defy these conventions. Take, for instance, the portrait of Madame Cézanne in the “Greenhouse.” She is clothed in a bluish dress with hints of violet, but her posture is remarkably ordinary, and her expression is stiff and unyielding. There is hardly anything in her demeanor or atmosphere that offers insight into her humanity. In fact, one could hardly ascertain if Madame Cézanne truly looked this way. In other works where the same individual appears, she appears radically different in appearance.

This aspect is not unique to this particular work but characterizes most of Cézanne’s portraits. The figures do not engage in any actions, adopt any significant postures, or convey any implied activities. Even in the case of Ambroise Vollard, who posed as the subject of Cézanne’s portrait, one can hardly find any hint of warmth or engagement. Vollard himself recounted how Cézanne took considerable time to determine the most suitable posture for the energetic merchant, ultimately settling on a pose with Vollard seated in a room, hands clasped on his knees, peering surreptitiously through a gap in a door.

However, Cézanne rarely demonstrated such considerations. He spent extended periods working on his paintings, demanding that models maintain the same position for hours. The models typically sit comfortably with their hands resting, even with crossed legs. Naturally, this means that the subjects do not engage in any actions or suggest any activities. Cézanne does not offer warmth or engagement in his portrayal. There is not even a hint of what the subject might be thinking or feeling. His primary focus was the formal qualities of his subjects.

This isn’t to say that Cézanne’s works are purely constructed with color and form alone. In a letter to his friend Joachim Gasquet, Cézanne wrote, “It takes a long time to get to know a model and realize it.” In other words, he read all essential aspects of the model, and then, in two separate stages, he sought to translate them onto the canvas. Now, before we delve into what he might have been reading in his models, let’s first examine who Madame Cézanne was.

II. The Ideal Model

Very little is known about Hortense Fiquet, who became immortalized in history alongside Paul Cézanne. Prior to entering Cézanne’s life, there is scant information about her. She hailed from a small village in the eastern French region of Jura, and her father was an ordinary banker.

Hortense likely crossed paths with Cézanne around 1869. Born in 1850, she was merely nineteen at the time, while Cézanne was already in his thirties. During this period, Hortense occasionally worked as a model to assist her household, and it is commonly believed that this is how she and Cézanne first encountered each other, although this remains unverified. Nevertheless, this story is woven primarily because of Cézanne’s somewhat unsocial and particularly timid nature, especially when it came to relationships with women. It is challenging to imagine Cézanne, the solitary genius who would go on to reshape the course of art history, engaging with a young woman in such a manner.

Regardless, the two individuals became acquainted and spent time together. Three years later, they welcomed a child into their lives, whom they named Paul after his father. Cézanne officially registered the child, but Hortense did not receive formal recognition as the mother until April 1886, some seventeen years after they first met. By then, their son had already turned fourteen.

The reason for this delayed marriage was primarily Cézanne’s reluctance to reveal Hortense to his family, particularly his father. Until that time, Cézanne had maintained a precarious double life, shuttling between Aix-en-Provence in the south of France, where his family resided, and Paris. When visiting his parents, he would secretly take Hortense and their son to Marseille and hide them there while he met his father, all the while hoping to avoid his father’s prying eyes. On occasions, he even raced nearly thirty kilometers on foot to return from Marseille to avoid being late for the evening meal.

Cézanne’s concern about his father’s reaction stemmed from the fact that he was utterly dependent on his father for his livelihood. Despite being a revolutionary force in the history of art, the genius struggled incompetently in other aspects of life. His artworks remained unsold, and apart from painting, he possessed no noteworthy talents. Consequently, his only source of sustenance for himself, Hortense, and their child was the 200 francs his father provided. Fearful that his father, who was fundamentally disapproving of his son’s career choice and might withhold even this meager allowance upon learning of his son’s independent marriage, Cézanne concealed his relationship with Hortense.

This situation was undoubtedly far from pleasant for Hortense. According to Cézanne’s friends, she was a typical, sociable bourgeoisie with a penchant for gossip, and her knowledge of art was rudimentary at best. Cézanne’s reputation painted her in a rather negative light, portraying her as an individual who knew nothing about art, and she seemed indifferent to Cézanne’s work. However, it is interesting to ponder whether, in fact, it might have been the reverse. Even if she did not understand Cézanne’s art, we should be grateful for her role in creating masterpieces like “Madame Cézanne in the Greenhouse,” among nearly forty other significant works. Without Hortense, we might not have had the opportunity to witness some of the most pivotal pieces in the history of modern art. Her absence from Cézanne’s world of portraiture is a somber notion.

Cézanne’s major themes in his art can be summarized as the narrative subjects of early Romanticism, often narrowing down to three categories: landscape, still life, and portraiture. Among these, landscape and still life were readily available anytime. However, people were not always at hand for his portraiture. His art was considered mundane at the time, and no one asked him to paint their portraits. Moreover, modeling for him was a rather excruciating endeavor.

Cézanne repeatedly painted self-portraits as a consequence of this. However, more than self-portraits, it is Hortense’s portraits that have left a profound impact. Though Hortense’s comprehension of her husband’s art remains uncertain, it is clear that she understood what it meant to be a model. This fact alone should make us appreciative of her, as she, along with Cézanne, contributed significantly to art history.