Henri Rousseau

by Götz Adriani

Henri Rousseau, called 'Le Douanier' because of his early career with the French customs service, is one of the most important, fascinating and least studied of late nineteenth-century artists. His determined and unapologetic primitivism distanced his work from most of his contemporaries, but he was widely admired by Picasso, Apollinaire and Kandinsky, and is now seen as one of the pioneers of the modern movement. This book offers a detailed portrait of Rousseau's life and career as well as sensitive interpretations of his unusual, individualistic art.

Genres: Art

282 pages, Hardcover

First published September 1, 2001

Reviews

[Eddie Watkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Henri Rousseau is my longest running favorite artist. His Sleeping Gypsy

became an immediate favorite when I first saw it in maybe the 2nd grade, and, remarkably, has remained a favorite and still has the ability to inspire reveries in me. Sure there are elements of the man-child in him, the dreaming naif, etc., and these elements do move me, but what has sustained my interest all these years is his uncluttered sophistication and absolute stubbornness. I'm convinced he both knew and didn't know what he was doing, which is a key to abiding mystery and magic, as the perceiving mind flip-flops from keen analysis to revery as it gazes at his canvases. His paintings are dream machines that make one more awake, operating on the viewer and the painter himself in a similar way.

But I don't really feel like talking about him. What I want to do is criticize the museum security guard (msg), and by extension all msg's who commit such offenses, who interrupted my revery of this painting, which has hung in the Philadelphia Museum of Art forever



For years I've been trying to determine exactly what that structure is in the bottom left of the painting. It is obviously some kind of hut, but I've never been able to determine any rational structure in it. What kind of roof is that? And how is it supported by what appears to be only one beam? And why is the front side represented by nothing more than hash marks? To me it looks unfinished, but the descriptive card beside the painting only refers to the structure as an incongruous hut, or something. So a couple weeks ago I was once again standing there in front of this painting, with glasses removed, with nose inches from the canvas, staring at this mysterious structure, lost in contemplation, when an impertinent msg startled me with the admonition that I was too close to the painting. I turned and looked at her quizzically, and promptly returned to my microscopic gazing for a couple moments (I'm sure I heard her indignantly snort), before moving to the other room of the museum where I made sure to continue my wonted practice of close observation.

As a Rousseau book this is a bit eccentric (appropriately), in that it doesn't have large reproductions of some major paintings, such as The Sleeping Gypsy, but as the image is so ubiquitous it's understandable. Instead the book offers page after page of lesser known landscapes, early and late, some of which are charming enough to make one's heart race. It also includes large reproductions of paintings by artier more sophisticated painters who loved and were influenced by Rousseau, and the cast is large and varied - from Otto Dix to Leger to Kandinsky to Picasso. It's a large book with a wonderful cover and can provide many hours of pleasure.

[Loraine · Rating 4 out of 5]

The reproductions of Henri Rousseau's paintings are wonderful. Adriani's biography of the artist, the history of the times he lived and worked in, the comparison of his work to other artists' work, all are thorough and accessible. The narrative style can be a bit stilted, but the information is so bountiful that I can easily overlook that aspect. Will be checking this one out over and over again, just to reflect on the art, the times, the world that fragmented into modernity and now . . . post-modernity. The signs are ever-changing . . .

[Renee · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was interesting to see the progress of this painter, who started painting at the age of 41 and to view many of his lesser known paintings. I like his still life and his more traditional landscapes as much as his jungle scenes.

Apparently, he based his dreamlike jungle scenes on black & white photos and the plants he visited in greenhouses.