ALBERT LEBOURG (1849 – 1928)

The Canal at Charenton – Albert Lebourg (1849-1928)

Albert Lebourg (né Albert-Marie Lebourg) was born on 1 February 1849 in Montfort-sur-Risle, about 17 miles southwest of Rouen, France. He studied at l’École des Beaux Arts and at l’Academie de Peinture et de Dessins in Rouen, before becoming a student at the architecture studio of J.P. Laurens in Paris.

After meeting the famous collector, Lapelier, in 1872, Lebourg became an art teacher at l’École des Beaux Arts in Algeria. Apart from one visit to Paris, when he got married on 8 September 1873, Lebourg lived in Algeria until 1877, and there met a painter from Lyons called Seignemartin. Under Seignemartin’s influence, Lebourg’s paintings grew increasingly Impressionist in style (The Admiralty (1875), Arab fantasia (1876) and Moorish cafe (1877).

In the Fourth Impressionist Exhibition of 1879, Lebourg exhibited 30 works with Claude Monet, Camille Pissarro and Edgar Degas, including paintings and drawings executed in Algeria. In the Fifth Impressionist Exhibition of 1880, he exhibited 20 works depicting Rouen, Paris and Algiers. He was admitted to the Salon in Paris in 1883 with a work entitled Matinée à Dieppe. In 1887 he exhibited at the acclaimed Les XX exhibition, with Walter Sickert, Camille Pissarro, Berthe Morisot and Georges-Pierre Seurat.

Lebourg became a member of the Société des Artistes Français beginning in 1893. He moved to the Netherlands in 1895, where he would stay two years. He exhibited to great acclaim at the Mancini Gallery in Paris and won the Silver Medal at the Exposition Universelle in 1900. In 1903, a retrospective exhibition on him was organised, presenting 111 works at the Gallerie Rosenberg, the art gallery of Paul Rosenberg at 21 rue de la Boétie in Paris.

On 13 November 1909, the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Rouen opened a show with fifty-two paintings, thirteen by Lebourg. Then in 1918, in the same museum, Lebourg was represented with Bonnard, Boudin, Camoin, Cross, Guillaumin, Luce, Matisse, Monet, Signac, Vuillard and Pinchon. In the same year, another retrospective on him was organised in Paris.

Lebourg was named Chevalier of the Legion of Honour on 27 June 1903, and breveted Officer of the Legion of Honour 22 April 1924. A catalogue raisonné of 2,137 works was published in 1923. His works are exhibited at the Musee d’Orsay, Petit-Palais and Carnavalet in Paris, as well as museums in Bayonne, Clermont-Ferrand, Le Havre, Dunkerque, Lille, Strasbourg, Sceaux and in Rouen at the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Rouen (Depeaux collection).

In September 1920, Lebourg suffered a stroke that paralysed the left side of his body. He nevertheless remarried in February 1921. Lebourg died in Rouen on 7 January 1928.


Berthe Morisot 1841 – 1895

62 by 52 cm

Femme à l’éventail, also known as Tête de jeune fille,was painted in 1876 during a momentous period in French painting and is considered one of Morisot’s most accomplished canvases. Included in the third Impressionist group exhibition in Paris in 1877, this elegant depiction of a woman holding a fan exemplifies Morisot’s technique at its most painterly and sophisticated. Most striking here is her application of black paint, applied with varying degrees of translucency to convey the folds in the fan and the crispness of the gossimer fabric draped around the figure’s shoulders. The picture exemplifies Morisot’s individual Impressionist technique as well as the stylistic attributes shared by Edouard Manet, her mentor, brother-in-law and artistic collaborator. 

The identity of the sitter for Femme à l’éventail is unknown; neither a member of the artist’s family or a professional model can be clearly identified. But what is particularly striking about the present work is that it calls to mind a portrait of Morisot herself, dressed in black and holding a fan, that Manet painted two years earlier. Femme à l’éventail may very well be Morisot’s response to that portrait, but it arguably presents a more intimate and psychologically compelling rendering of its glamorous female subject. 

Berthe Morisot holds the distinction of being a founding member of the Impressionist group and one of its most important contributors. The casual elegance of her compositional style and her liberal application of paint, demonstrated beautifully in Femme à l’éventail and other paintings from the 1870s, helped to define the aesthetic of the movement. As one of its only women members in addition to the American, Mary Cassatt, Morisot lent a valuable female perspective to avant-garde art at the turn of the century. Her pictures gave insight to aspects of French society and provided a platform for ‘feminine’ subjects and concerns that remained unexplored by her male colleagues. The models for her paintings were mostly women and children, many of whom were members of her own family, and they posed for her with a level of ease and familiarity that was rarely seen in 19th century portraiture. 

In the year Femme à l’éventail was painted Morisot and her fellow Impressionists organised the second Impressionist exhibition held in Durand-Ruel’s galleries at 11 rue Peletier. As had been the case at their previous group showing in 1874, the critics of Paris responded ferociously to these avant-garde artists. One review in particular by Albert Wolff infuriated Morisot’s husband, Eugène, so greatly that he challenged the author to a duel. Morisot remained undiscouraged by her critical reception and chose to exhibit Femme à l’éventail at the third Impressionist exhibition in 1877. The show in general fared little better with the conservative press, but Emile Bergerat recognized the preeminent qualities of the present work writing, “The most gifted painter of all [the Impressionists], in the sense that they possess an innate gift for color, is a woman, Miss Berthe Morisot. This is the artist who has signed the best picture of the exhibition, a portrait of a woman holding a fan. Her brushstrokes are both spontaneous and precise” (Emile Bergerat, op. cit., April 17 1877, translated from French).

From 1877 onwards Morisot continued to be consistently singled out for her sophistication and exemplary technique. Reviewing another Impressionist exhibition for the Gazette des Beaux-Arts, Charles Ephrussi wrote: ‘Berthe Morisot is French in her distinction, elegance, gaiety and nonchalance. She loves painting that is joyous and lively. She grinds flower petals onto her palette, in order to spread them later on her canvas with airy, witty touches, thrown down a little haphazardly. These harmonize, blend and finish by producing something vital, fine, and charming that you do not see so much as intuit…” (Charles Ephrussi, ‘Exposition des artistes indépendants’, in Gazette des Beaux Arts, May 1, 1880, pp. 485-88, quoted in op. cit. (exhibition catalogue), Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, San Francisco, 1992, p. 327.


Lost and Found

Gustave Caillebotte (1848-1894)Chemin montant, 1881

Oil on canvas

Preserved discreetly in a French private collection, Caillebotte’s Chemin montant was only known to historians from a checklist of works included in the seventh Impressionists’ show in Paris in 1882.

His fifteen-month stay was one of the most productive periods in his short, ten-year career as an artist.

From then to 1930, when the painting resurfaced in the collection of Jeanne Schultz in Paris, its whereabouts were unknown. Possibly it belonged to her mother, Doris Schultz (1856-1927), who frequented Parisian artistic circles in the 1880s. Until 1994 its sole recorded likeness was a caricature published by Draner in Le Charivari.

Chemin montant conveys an enticing freshness and luminosity, which is enhanced by its generous dimensions.

The rediscovery of this important painting raises similar questions to those posed by the critics in 1882: Where was the composition painted? Who are the figures and what is their relationship? Why does the use of a relatively flat perspective contradict the very title of the painting (rising road)?

Caillebotte did not identify the location of this country scene, although the brilliant white and pink villa glimpsed on the left suggested a Norman seaside resort, likely the hills of Trouville or Villers-sur-mer, where Caillebotte spent many weeks each summer participating in local regattas.

Further evidence of the location was supported by Villas au bord de la mer, en Normandie, painted in the same year, in which the architecture of the house, its outer wall and gate convincingly match those of Chemin montant.

These architectural details led to the recent discovery of the villa itself—at the end of a steep private path on the hills of Trouville. Amazingly, the villa, the path, its surrounding houses and the vegetation have remained unchanged to this day.

As was customary for the Impressionists, Caillebotte modified the perspective of Chemin montant to suit his own artistic agenda.

In order to integrate the figures into the landscape for a seamless composition he flattened the road, which is correctly seen to be rising in Villas au bord de la mer, en Normandie, and generously filled the frame with lush vegetation. The two figures seem to be wealthy city dwellers, for whom the summer sojourn in Normandy became an obligatory ritual.

When depicting bourgeois figures at leisure, Caillebotte often presented them from the back, anonymously, with little or no interaction among themselves.

The scholar and curator, Anne Distel, suggests a more intimate reading of this picture: ‘The man in boating attire, shown from the back, haven’t we previously seen him in Caillebotte’s painting of the Park at Yerres? Might he be the artist himself, here pretending to smoke a pipe? And might not this young woman with a parasol be Charlotte Berthier, the artist’s companion until his death?’

Although Caillebotte painted more than fifty landscapes during his summers in Normandy (only a handful include figures), Chemin montantwas the only painting of this period he chose to exhibit during his lifetime, a testimony to its importance.

As was the case with L’Homme au balcon and L’Étalage, the present work was most probably gifted by the artist shortly after the 1882 Impressionist exhibition, although no surviving document to this effect confirms this. Like the identity of the couple in Chemin montant, the early provenance of the painting remains romantically mysterious.

Department Head, Christie’s Impressionist & Modern Art Department, Paris


Armand Guillaumin París, 1841-1927

Jean-Baptiste-Armand Guillaumin, Impresssionnist painter with intense colors, he is famous for his landscapes of Paris, Creuse and Esterel areas. 

Born in Paris on 16 February 1841 into a working-class family, who moved to Moulins soon after his birth. In accordance with his father’s wishes, he was sent to Paris to study business and placed under the care of his aunt and uncle where he started to work at the age of 15 in his uncle’s store, while attending evening drawing lessons.

At the beginning of the 1870s, he worked with Pissarro in Pontoise, a village of farmers hardly affected by industrialization where Pissarro had settled. They were joined by Cézanne and would often visit Paul Gachet in Auvers, who was socialist, free-thinker, and a regular visitor of the Café Guerbois. Dr. Gachet placed a house at his disposal, while he worked at night with the highway department. During this time, Cézanne did a portrait of Guillaumin entitled “Guillaumin at the Hanged man”.

Working with Pissarro, Guillaumin developed his art of landscape painting. Perspectives opened by winding paths, while introducing industry themes, bringing a certain romanticism. He took part in the first Impressionist Exhibition in 1874, showing three landscapes, among them Sunset in Ivry. 

Zola in his article “Naturalism at the Salon” writes in 1880: : “[…] the true revolutionaries of the form appear with Mr. Édouard Manet, with the Impressionists, Mr Claude Monet, Renoir, Pissarro, Guillaumin, and others too. 

These painters intend to leave workshops in which painters shut thelselves up since so many centuries, to go outdoor to paint in open air, simple fact the consequences of which are considerable. In plein-air, light is not unique any more, and consequently multiple effects diversify and transform radically the aspects of things and human beings. This study of light effects [… ] is what one called more or less properly Impressionism, because a painting consequently becomes an impression of one moment felt in front of nature. 

[… ] Mr Pissarro, Sisley, Guillaumin went in the footsteps of Mr. Claude Monet[… ] and they endeavoured painting pieces of nature around Paris under real sunlight, without giving up in front of the most unforeseen effects of coloring.”

Towards the end of the 1880s he became a friend of Van Gogh, and some of his paintings were sold by Théo Van Gogh.

In 1886 he married his cousin Marie-Joséphine Charreton, a school teacher and settled in the town of La Creuse in 1887. In 1891, he won 100000, French francs in the lottery, a windfall that enabled him to devote himself exclusively to painting. From this point on, he made numerous visits to Saint-Palais-sur-Mer, Agay, Brittany, and the Auvergne. In 1904 he travelled to the Netherlands which inspired a number of paintings

Although. Armand Guillaumin was regarded as a secondary artist within the Impressionist movement, his paintings are composed in strong, vivid colours, and his images of factory buildings, railway stations, and similar locations are imbued with a convincing atmosphere. His painting lost some of its intensity during his years in La Creuse, with greens and purples becoming more dominant in his palette. Guillaumin died in Paris on 26 June 1927 at the age of 86.


Henri-Edmond Cross (Henri-Edmond Delacroix) (French, 1856–1910)

The Artist’s Garden at Saint-Clair

Watercolor on paper

26.6 x 35.8 cm

Henri Edmond Cross was born in Douai and grew up in Lille. His real name was in fact Henri-Edmond Delacroix, a heavy burden for a painter which is why he chose to anglicize it.

His early works, portraits and still lifes, were in the dark colors of realism, but after meeting with Claude Monet in 1883, he painted in the brighter colors of Impressionism. In 1884, Cross co-founded the Société des Artistes Indépendants with Georges Seurat. He went on to become one of the principal exponents of Neo-Impressionism.

In a break with Impressionism, the artists painted in their studios, embracing an intellectual, recomposed, methodical art in search of harmony rather than a strict replica of reality. This art was impregnated with scientific principles as Seurat sought inspiration in Chevreul, Ogden Rood or even Charles Blanc, while Signac wrote his treatise D’Eugène Delacroix au néo-impressionisme. Cross and Signac, insisting also on the importance of music in their paintings full of studied rhythms and sonorous colors.

Cross also observed the different moments in the day. The effect of light on colors, colder in the morning, warmer in the evening. There is the influence of Japanese fashion in a new, more decorative treatment of lines, in the ondulating smoke or the twisted tree trunks.


Matisse sought out Cross’ company : “his self-confidence crushes me and makes me look in my eyes as a poor man without will power, with no follow-through in my ideas and even without means (…). I regret being able to see Cross only very rarely” ; nevertheless, he painted a series of watercolors with him, colored annotations, without any traces of drawing, interpreting large spaces vibrant with light but with no line or perspective.

It was not until he moved to Saint-Clair, a small hamlet on the Côte d’Azur near Saint-Tropez, that he turned to pure landscape painting in oil and watercolor, using a vivid palette of saturated colors. On the Mediterranean coast, Cross relaxed the rigorous optical arrangements of the Neo-Impressionist technique in favor of a style of painting using long, blocky brushmarks in decorative, mosaic-like patterns.

His final years, plagued by rheumatism, were spent in Saint-Clair, where he died in 1910.


Stanislas Lépine (1835-1892) the Pre-Impressionist French Painter

Canal Saint-Denis, Paris

ca. 1876-1882

The art of Stanislas Lépine joins the pre-Impressionists with the Impressionists. Lépine established his reputation with views of Paris and paintings depicting life on the banks of the Seine imbued with an atmosphere unique to his oeuvre. Although he gained little recognition during his lifetime, Lépine was highly regarded by his fellow artists and, in 1874, was invited to exhibit in the first Impressionist Exhibition.

Lépine was born in 1835 in Caen, Normandy, to a family of cabinet makers. A pupil of Jean Baptiste Camille Corot, he exhibited at the Salon in 1859 and during the early part of his career Lépine benefited greatly from the patronage of the collector Hazard and his friend Comte Doria.

Being from Normandy, water would always play a pivotal role in Lépine’s artwork.  In addition, he admired the Dutch painter Johan Barthold Jongkind (1819-1891), and was especially influenced by his marine pictures, which brilliantly captured the effects of air and atmosphere, as well as by his moonlight views.

The critic Georges Lecomte said of him: ‘Il était unique, le direct élève du divin Corot’ ‹‹to ruin the academic landscape by learning how to render the effects of light and atmosphere››. The influence of Johann Barthold Jongkind was also very strong, this can be seen particularly in his choice of subject matter and use of light. Lépine was a consistent artist and his style hardly changed after 1869; as a result his works are difficult to date.

Stanislas Lépine died at the age of 57, almost totally paralysed; he was so poor that his friend had to make a collection to pay for his funeral. After his death Lépine’s work began to gain some of the critical acclaim that he so richly deserved and a retrospective exhibition of his work was held at Durand-Ruel in December 1892.



Paris Street on a Rainy Day

Gustave Caillebotte

Flash on French Impressionism and you’re likely to see gauzy noon landscapes, or a steam-choked Gare Saint-Lazare, or just clouds of flickering paint strokes like molecules flying apart. Yet if you visited the Impressionist show in Paris in 1877, you would have found a few things that countered such expectations: realistic paintings of a new Paris of luxury high-rises as blank as mausoleums and of ruler-straight boulevards running back into infinite space.


The name of the artist attached to these pictures, Gustave Caillebotte, was one you might even have heard of at the time. He had already made a splash in the previous year’s exhibition. Still in his 20s, he had stolen the limelight from the likes of Claude Monet and Auguste Renoir. And the 1877 edition, in more ways than one, belonged to him. He virtually created it.


He had rented the space, paid for it to be refurbished, picked up art from studios all over town, and supervised the installation. If he gave his own paintings pride of place in a central gallery, who could gripe? He had earned that choice position and, people noted, his art deserved it.


This was particularly true of his newest and largest picture, “Paris Street, Rainy Day.” Almost billboard-size and graphically bold, with its carefully detailed but oddly empty image of well-dressed amblers on a drizzle-slicked Right Bank street, it was a showstopper.


The location seen in “Paris Street, Rainy Day” was not far from where Caillebotte (pronounced kai-ya-BOT), the son of a wealthy textile manufacturer, was born in 1848, in a fashionable section of a city undergoing drastic reconstruction as it was simultaneously torn down, cleared out and built up. Like many young men of the haute-bourgeoisie, he studied law, but he abandoned it for art.


He trained briefly with Léon Bonnat, a purveyor of religious potboilers, adapting Bonnat’s figurative style to contemporary secular subjects. But when Caillebotte submitted his first major painting, “The Floor Scrapers,” an image of three bare-chested laborers at work in a domestic interior, to the conservative academic Salon, he was turned down.


Shocked at the rebuff, he became a rebel overnight. By this point, he had met Degas, who had probably introduced him to other Impressionists. He turned his attention in their direction, initially by buying their work and amassing a major collection. When he died in 1894, he was best known not as an artist but as a patron who bequeathed a wealth of Impressionist art to the French nation.


His newfound colleagues invited him to participate in their 1876 exhibition. He chose to submit “The Floor Scrapers,” and it was a popular hit. People loved it or hated it, but everyone talked about it more than about anything else.


He sustained that success the next year with “Paris Street, Rainy Day.” Caillebotte had found a niche for himself within a kind of alternative art establishment that permitted him to nurture his eccentricities, deal with themes that mattered to him and steer his way among styles.


An 1877 picture called “The House Painters” incorporates a Cubist-like spatial logic: Two workmen inspecting a shop exterior exist in one dimension, the street behind them in another. In a near-abstract picture from 1880, we view a boulevard sidewalk from directly above, an unlikely vantage unless we could fly.


Caillebotte’s city is also a psychological tangle. In “The Pont de l’Europe,” from 1876, a young woman and a top-hatted man (believed to be the artist’s self-portrait) approach us across a Paris bridge. They look like a couple, but they are not.

It is possible that they had just interacted, but she is now hanging back. His eyes are fixed on a working-class man leaning against the bridge railing. Some writers have suggested that various kinds of sexual cruising are in progress. As if to increase the tension, an unleashed dog is running in from the foreground and heading toward the walking figures, possibly on the attack.

The astonishing painting “Luncheon” is set in the mahogany-dark dining room of his family home, where his widowed mother is being served by a butler while his younger brother René, with a sullen focus, prematurely chows down. A subtle generational war is underway.

Stay with the picture and you’ll sense further signs of disturbance as patterns in the carpet begin to stir and rise. In another painting, of Caillebotte’s other younger brother, Martial, playing the piano in the parlor, floral wallpaper threatens to become an engulfing force.

Were these effects deliberate, or the accidents of a painter not quite in control of his medium? There seems to be no question that Caillebotte’s work is uneven over all.

Eventually, Caillebotte’s engagement in art as a competitive activity waned. Other interests took over. He and Martial assembled a significant stamp collection. (It’s now in the British Library.) He moved to the suburbs — to Argenteuil, near Monet — and took up serious gardening. One late painting, from 1893, is of a stand of his prized dahlias.

He maintained a long-held passion for designing small boats and became an expert racer. In one of his great, sensually ambiguous pictures from the 1870s, he paints a head-on portrait of a burly blond god of a rower from the vantage of someone sitting on a facing seat, a knee touching distance away.

In the end, he became the Impressionist he had never really been, gauzy landscapes and all. Now and then the old strangeness recurs, as it does in a small 1888 sketch of linen sheets or shirts hung out to dry.

Wind-whipped, they are like clouds changing shape, and you can read them as you will: as flying fish, as ghosts, as lovers’ tossed pillows, as something gone wrong with the sky.

Like all his best art, they make us wonder what we’re looking at, wonder what we’ve decided we see, and why.


Eugene Boudin: The man who inspired Monet

Entrance to the Port of Le Havre

Eugene Boudin (1824-1898)

In Normandy, the small and charming port town of Honfleur has everything: an iconic old bell tower that provides an excited peal for weddings; an ancient wooden church across the street, where the organist does better than “Here Comes the Bride” to mark the occasion; and — along the little cobblestone streets, hurdy-gurdy players providing more secular music for the hordes of camera-toting tourists.

Away from the crowds, Honfleur also has an art museum with some notable samples of impressionism in Normandy. The Boudin Museum was founded by a local boy who made good: Eugene Boudin, a forerunner of impressionism who’s not that well-known, either in the U.S. or France. But his influence is visible in every collection of 19th-century French art.

Boudin didn’t start out to be a painter. His father ran a ferryboat between Honfleur and Le Havre, the big English Channel port, and Boudin worked on the boat as a child.

“And one day he fell overboard and was caught by one seaman,” says Bridget Mueller, who guides visitors around Normandy. “Otherwise he would have drowned — so his mother said, ‘You’re not going on this ship again.’ ”

Instead, young Eugene went to school. A teacher spotted artistic talent, and from then on, Boudin went to sea via the canvases he painted. Mueller says there’s hidden proof of the artist’s seamanship: a notation on the back of every painting, recording the weather and the winds on the day it was made.

That assertion proved impossible to confirm; the Boudin Museum has some extremely serious-looking guards. And some seriously fine Boudins — small, portable canvases painted outdoors, on the nearby beaches of Deauville and Trouville in the 1850s and ’60s.

Museum guide Rosaleen Aussenac says those beaches were becoming all the rage at the time.

“Up to the 19th century, the beach was a place where fishermen used to go to work,” she explains, “not a place to have a nice walk, or to have a nice conversation.”

But Boudin’s pictures — La Conversation, Plage de Trouville, for instance — are full of fancily dressed men and women (long skirts, flowery hats, bowlers, suits, vests) sitting and strolling on the sand, holding parasols against the sun. 

What brought them beachside? In the mid-1800s, fainting — yes, fainting — became nearly epidemic among England’s noble and wealthy women. (Their tight corsets could not have helped.) Doctors prescribed sea-bathing sessions, among other remedies.

Now, in those days going into the sea was not for the faint-hearted. Ladies changed into bathing costumes inside little cabins; then horses pulled the cabin across the sand, and the lady emerged.

“And outside waiting for her was a big, strong, handsome man,” Aussenac says. “And he would take her in his arms and walk into the sea, and put her in the water — once, twice, three times. … Afterward he would bring her back to the cabin, and this was the sea-bathing session — isn’t that nice?”

‘I Want You To See The Light’

Eugene Boudin had a grand time painting all this beach activity. So did others — if the British, then the French upperclasses were going to hit the beaches, artists would go, too, to paint their portraits, do seascapes and make some money under the sunny-cloudy Norman skies. Boudin urged his young friend Claude Monet to join them at seaside. Monet was 15 years younger and making a reputation in Paris, drawing caricatures in charcoal. 

Boudin thought Monet could do more.

“He said, ‘Come on, Claude — your caricatures are fun, but it’s not real art,’ ” says Aussenac. “‘I mean art; I mean painting, Claude, painting!’ ”

Boudin kept nagging his young friend. Monet had grown up in Le Havre, and Boudin wanted to get him back to Normandy. “‘Come over,'” he urged him, by Aussenac’s account. “‘I want to show you Honfleur; I want you to see the light.’ ”

There was that amazing light — the rich blue skies, dotted with scudding, big-bellied clouds that shifted the sunlight, making fields and rocks broody, then brilliant, in a flash. Monet capitulated, came to Honfleur, and he and Boudin painted side by side, outside, using portable easels and paint in tubes.

“And suddenly, suddenly, Claude Monet just understood what his friend had been telling him about,” says Aussenac. “He understood. He said afterward that it was just like a curtain that [had opened] in front of his eyes. He understood what his life was about, and what painting was about.” 

Monet, inspired by Boudin, went on to create the very first impressionist painting — and to make studies of light as it fell on haystacks, a cathedral and — eventually — tangles of water lilies, floating in a pond.


Robert Antoine Pynchons

Le Pont aux Anglais, soleil couchant 1905


Robert Antoine Pynchons 1886-1943
A French Post-Impressionist landscape painter of the Rouen School- l’École de Rouen. He was consistent throughout his career in his dedication to painting landscapes en plein air. From the age of nineteen (1905-1907) he worked in a Fauve style but never deviated into Cubism, and, unlike others, never found that Post-Impressionism did not fulfill his artistic needs.

Monet characterized him as “a surprising touch in the service of a surprising eye” (étonnante patte au service d’un oeil surprenant)

His paintings of this period are closely related to the Post-Impressionist and Fauvist styles, with golden yellows, incandescent blues, a thick impasto and larger brushstroke