Painted Love: Prostitution in French Art of the Impressionist Era (review)

The sketchbooks of visual artists are often of considerable interest in revealing the evolutionary stages of finished drawings or paintings. They may also expose more spontaneous sides, give dates to novel views and offer clues to individual professional developments. The same is true for preliminary paintings, unfinished works and things that fall behind the piano. But some of us worry a bit about the extent of posthumous interpretation that these artists would have wished and, given the opportunity, whether they would have preferred tossing out immature or unsuccessful creations. Not so Hollis Clayson, who seems to have assembled under one cover everything she could find—she gives Degas, Cezanne and Manet particularly extensive treatment.

In several cases the themes and goals behind the art are more ambiguous than Painted Love would have us believe. For example, the story behind Cezanne's A Modern Olympia, his attempt to impress Dr. Paul Gachet by whipping off a match to Manet's Olympia, is not properly developed. I was disappointed in the lack of definition of the title subjects and came away wondering if some of the images were really of prostitution as claimed, or rather of something more flirtatious and less commercial. Readers who might reasonably expect some comparisons (visual or narrative) with "wholesome painted love" (for the same era in Paris, or from London) will search in vain.

Although the title gives great weight to the Impressionists, the coverage is not restricted to this less than homogeneous group, or to their era. Manet, who is featured on the cover, has a special relationship to the Impressionists that is not properly explained. Likewise, the Post-Impressionists should at least have been identified as such. Including Pablo Picasso is a bit much, especially since Toulouse Lautrec is mentioned en passant as early as page three but never illustrated.

In general, the paper and print quality are quite reasonable. The number of color plates is a bit mean, and some editorial decisions such as a black-and-white illustration for Manet's Olympia are hard to fathom. The index concentrates on names and neglects subjects— a quick survey found many omissions. This is a picture book with a titillating title that will find its way to more coffee tables than desks.