From the start Matisse was an equal-opportunity gatherer and collector of other artists' styles and sensibilities: Giotto, Moreau, Cézanne, and van Gogh, to name a few. This is apparent right from the start of the show.Two paintings, "Still Life with Compote and Fruit" (1899) and "Still Life with Compote, Apples and Oranges" (1899), show Matisse moving already toward a reductive approach to paint. The former is all Seurat-inspired semaphoric dots and dashes, whereas the second anticipates Morandi's minimalist nature mortes. In the next gallery we see something similar with "Seated Nude" (1909) and "Nude with a White Scarf" (1909). "White Scarf," with its thick, muscular strokes and black outlining, speaks to German Expressionism, particularly Max Beckmann. "Seated Nude," apparently done after "Scarf" as a sort of souvenir, partakes of something like Picasso's perverse personal Surrealism, in spirit. Here the model is lightly sketched in, with amputee arms, BTK legs, and missing breasts. Unlike the refined "Scarf," "Nude" reveals her bare snoopie, creating a frisson of peep show action -- something that seldom happens in Matisse's work from models.
In a 1912 interview Matisse said about his working method, "I never retouch a sketch: I take a canvas the same size, as I may change the composition somewhat. But I always strive to give the same feeling while carrying it a little further...." This is true in the three variations of "Le Luxe" (1907-08), where we get to compare and contrast the original, a revised version, and a charcoal sketch (made for his personal consumption). In the several paintings of the model Laurette (particularly "Laurette in a Green Robe, Black Background" ), Matisse begins to play with black -- what would become a lifelong fascination. In "Green Robe," blacks define background, the delineation of the armchair, and the figure -- subtle, and revealed only by patient gazing.
One of the big problems in making such sweeping statements as "I never retouch a sketch" is that eventually one will probably end up doing exactly the opposite. By the time we get to "The Dream" (1940), Matisse had begun to seriously rework every canvas he painted. His assistant, Lydia Delectorskaya, had taken on the role of chief documenter of his progress, having each day's work photographed. Beginning with "The Large Blue Dress" (1937), showing the progress between February 26 and April 3, we see how he winnowed down the composition, from something approaching naturalism to the final, highly stylized, cut-out masterpiece. With "The Dream," which tackles a theme that Picasso was wrestling with in serialized fashion, we get the whole process. In his 1945 Galerie Maeght exhibition, "The Dream" was hung surrounded by large black-and-white photos of its creation (faithfully recreated at the Metropolitan). He insisted to Maeght that the purpose of such a novel hanging was pedagogical; showing the development of the work through its various respective states toward a definitive conclusion clarified his intent.
What might have seemed a silly, and possibly pretentious, idea at the time turns out to have been prescient. Looking back at Matisse's work a century later, we sometimes forget just how far he took painting into a new visual language. The man who was chided as being a "wild beast" at the beginning of his career, was, in fact, a painter of great perception, refinement, and delicacy, in the end. - Bradley Rubenstein
The Metropolitan Museum of Art is at 1000 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York.
Mr. Rubenstein is a painter, story teller, and smart culture aficionado.