Some thoughts on the MFA visit

It was a mildly chilly Thursday evening when Kian and I decided to go for a MFA detour - we just couldn’t wait another day to see each other in class! The week prior, one of my other friends also mentioned wanting to visit the MFA. Naturally, I also invited him to tag along. As we waited for Kian, who is always fashionably late, to arrive in fine clothes and a patterned tote resembling that of David’s in Dolci’s depiction of David and Goliath (albeit without holding the head of Goliath), we somehow ended up first in the Asia Art gallery. It took us approximately 30 minutes to travel across the globe and make our way to Europe.

Anecdotal jokes aside, we did thoroughly enjoy paintings by the old masters and the impressionists alike. Although there are distinct differences in the subject matter, artistic technique, and aesthetic choice, I also observed numerous contradicting and overlapping elements in what we know as realist and impressionist styles - after all, coincidences, transitions, and inspirations from existing styles are inseparable parts of art.

In general, the realist paintings on view at the MFA mostly depict religious figures and anecdotes, with plenty of portraits, a handful of landscapes, some surprisingly active scenes, and a sprinkle of still life. Technically, they all carry the essence of realism through perfect perspective, structured composition, and an almost irrational obsession with details in muscle and textile fibers alike. And while you can almost see such textures peeking through the otherwise extravagant (but by no means exaggerated) colors, the brushwork employed to achieve this is unfathomably fine. These elements would also prevail despite the genre - be it in Giordano’s heroic depiction of Aeneas, Snyder’s lively recreation of a boar hunt, or de Momper’s take on the ragged ridges of the Alps. Thematically, however, it would seem that the gallery is almost too surreal to squeeze within the rigid lines of pure “realism” or “naturalism”. The very nature of church/nobility commissioned paintings under which realism flourished implies that scenes were almost definitely recreated, imagined, and at the least, glorified. Hence, there lies what is surely a dichotomy between what the realist strives to achieve and the very subject they choose to depict. It is as if they are, at the end of the day, reconstructing the mundane into unattainable perfection and portraying the mythical as the desirable ideal. Ironically, we’ve come to recognize this twisted portrayal of perfection through overemphasized details as “real”.

Perhaps, then, the impressionists and their style of painting is very much also a rebellion to the surreal sense of reality. The galleries are laid out in a way where the very first painting you see as you take the sharp turn into the impressionist era is Signac’s take of the golden horn of Constantinople, which, despite capturing well the divergence from religious themes, the overall flattening sense of perspective, a despise for intricate details and traditional brushstrokes as well as the overall shift in aesthetics, fully omits the transitional period that had to exist in between the vastly contrasting eras. While Signac’s portrayal of a warm and golden afternoon with the heaviest tint of pink goes in line with the impressionism and neo-impressionism stereotype, flemish and dutch painters in the likes of van der Neer had long been experimenting with broader perspectives, unconventional compositions, day-to-day scenes, and simplified textures (although not so much with the color-centric styles of later paintings). This is evident in his take of a winter landscape, which focuses immensely more on the atmosphere than any individual character within the scene. Nonetheless, the most notable names of the movement, like Monet, contributed heavily to all the aforementioned elements in addition to their focus on capturing movement, mood, and the relationship of light and shadow through color.

In fact, if we were to pose Monet’s Valley of the Petite Creuse against the previously mentioned de Momper rendition of a Mountain Landscape with Travelers, who isn’t even strictly “real” by the stringent standards of realism, all the distinct characters of the contrasting movements would become incredibly apparent. Perhaps the most striking difference at first glance is the approach to brushstrokes and texture. While de Momper depicts the scene with a perspective not any narrower than that of Monet’s, every element - from the trees and ridges to the soil and clouds - are lined out with clear borders and in incredible detail. Seen against the Monet, the brushstrokes are also incredibly fine - arguably too smooth in realist standards, with not much texture in the ridges (although there is plenty in the tree leaves, people, as well as clouds). The Monet, on the other hand, reflects the textures of the water and trees incredibly well through chaotic yet organized strokes. There is also quite the innovative use of contrasting colors that contributes layers of complexity to how light would interact with the leaves, which makes the de Momper look pale in comparison. It is apparent that the Monet spotlights the interdependence of light and shadow through color, while the de Momper mostly explores color and detail on a backdrop that is the relationship between light and shadow. This highlights what I believe is one of the most distinct technical differences between impressionist and realist styles, and speaks further to the underlying goal of each movement - the former a dreamy portrayal of the incredibly real atmosphere, the latter a seemingly realistic rendition of a polished scene.

Nevertheless, while we’ve mostly spoken on the contradictions within and between the supposedly opposing styles, we also must not blind ourselves of the immense overlap that exists in realist and impressionist works. In addition to the clearly prevalent themes of landscape and portraiture in both movements, realists were also never shy about scenes that involve action. This is obvious when we reference Snyder’s Boar Hunt, which masterfully freezes a frame in the otherwise fast-paced “dogchase”, not unlike the impressions of a waving tree or even the dog walkers of the future. One could argue that the sense of action and movement is captured differently - the realists through a solid, perfect frame, and the later movements through imperfection and the layering of frames (in the likes of a slower shutter). Yet that may very well be another version of the debate around the decisive moment in the photography world - action and moments lie at the foundation nonetheless. Beyond themes, pieces we classify as “realist” also often employ unconventional techniques not unlike how the impressionists would, mostly in the use of color and backgrounds. My personal favorite in the Old Masters gallery, Zurbarán’s depiction of Saint Francis, is a very monochromatic, almost minimalist exploration of light and shadow. While you still see all the mastery that is characteristic of the realists, the simple composition and focus on the contrast of light stands out from the traditions of the era. In similar spirit, albeit with much more dramatic colors, is Cavallino’s Saint Cecilia. The focus on the contrast of light and shadow with much more unconventional framing and a bold use of colors sets it apart from almost all other paintings on that wall. All in all, this is to say that the line between what is “realist” and “impressionist” is really not as clear as we tend to frame it to be - or at least not as straight as the realist would paint it.

In the end, it should be evident that the strict definitions we attempt to categorize art in, particularly when they are from closely related/transitional eras, often ignores the context and similarities that pull them much closer together. Art has always been an exploration of the relationship between what is perceived, felt, and then conveyed, and while what is perceived is often influenced by what has been conveyed (and what is conveyed obviously stems from the perceived), emotions and desires have also long been a shared human experience. Thus, while we tend to only focus on what sets one style apart from another, homogeneity in art is almost an inevitable and probably desirable outcome - for they all come from what came before, and will all go into what comes after. After which, they’ll just land on the wall of the rich, or rest in the heart of the masses… Or in modern terms, become a glorified monetary device or an internet sensation, whichever tickles your fancy.