Five years ago, I visited the Musée Marmottan Monet on a chilly morning in late May, naïve, precocious, and eager to begin my summer studies in France. I arrived at the museum’s entrance, journal in hand, stomach stuffed full of pain au chocolat, after clumsily navigating the city’s metro system. I stood in awe in front of each masterpiece, dutifully recording my thoughts on each piece. Dizzy with plein air scenes and the sugary pigments of the Impressionists, I was immediately struck by a certain self-portrait by the artist, Berthe Morisot, tucked away in one of the final galleries. Gray hair pinned at the nape of her neck, clothed in a stained artist’s smock, eyes locked confidently on the viewer. This was not the coy, sensual Morisot I recognized, painted by Edouard Manet in thick, black brushstrokes, with dainty pink shoes. This Morisot, however, quickly became my heroine.
Berthe Morisot, Self-Portrait, 1885
Edouard Manet, Berthe Morisot with Fan, 1872
One can compare a work by Berthe Morisot, on display at the Art Institute of Chicago, with one of Edouard Manet’s most well-known paintings, Un Bar aux Folies-Bergère, to illuminate the complicated relationship between the two artists, as well as the many issues wrapped up in the life and work of a successful nineteenth century female artist. “Successful” is a loaded word when applied to an artist such as Berthe Morisot. Her work is often spoken about in gendered terms; she paints beautiful domestic scenes, women dressing or nurturing their children. Her images have often been read as mere feminine complements to the goals of Manet and her fellow Impressionists. Edouard Manet, her friend and teacher, painted Un Bar aux Folies-Bergère in 1885.
Edouard Manet, Un Bar aux Folies-Bergère, 1885
The painting has been admired for its play on perspective, in relation to the viewer, the bar maid, her customer, and the mirror behind her. The perspective that matters most of all in this moment however, is the artist’s perspective. The painting is the work of a male artist, a dandy working within the domain of modernity. The artist and the male customer can remain hidden in plain sight. Modernity was the experience primarily of men, who could experience Paris nightlife, their reputation always intact.
Not so for women like Morisot. A similar play on perspective occurs in Berthe Morisot’s oil painting, Woman at Her Toilette, painted between 1875 and 1880. An upper-class young woman sits at her dressing table, with her back towards the viewer. Similarly to Manet’s painting, the black choker about her neck centers the work and calls attention to the woman’s slender and beautiful form. Is she preparing for the day, or taking off her mask at the end of the night? Strategically, the artist paints the woman slouching, her face hidden. This woman, confined to the interior scene of her toilette, controls what the viewer sees. The mirror does not reflect her image. Contrary to Manet’s exposed barmaid, this woman retains her autonomy despite the intimacy of this setting.
Berthe Morisot, Woman at the Toilette, 1875-1880
My grandmother was an artist, a fiercely independent and talented woman. She would always remind her granddaughters that it was important for young women to “feel like they’ve made their own choices in life.” As I stood in front of Morisot’s piece at the Art Institute, I was reminded of my grandmother and of my first encounter with the true Berthe Morisot at the Musée Marmottan. Morisot’s biographer, Anne Higonnet, has noted that “Morisot’s reputation has, paradoxically, been diminished by her success.” Morisot made daily, highly conscious choices to pursue an intellectually rigorous and imaginative career as an artist, while delicately and purposefully navigating the society in which she lived. She did not falter in maintaining bourgeoisie expectations and societal norms, she thrived in spite of them. For this she is often forgotten. In her paintings, she captured the power of a woman’s introspection, revealing the contradictions and limitations of modernity. Her ability to negotiate interior spaces to gain access to the exterior world through her art must be at the center of any discussion of Morisot’s life and work. Morisot’s daily conviction and dedication to her artistic life culminated in her 1885 self-portrait, painted as contrast to Manet’s version, and in spite of the space allotted to her in modern society.
To learn more about Berte Morisot, I would recommend the following:
Anne Higonnet, Berthe Morisot (New York: Rizzoli, 1993)