Latest news with #Caillebotte
Chicago Tribune
09-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Letters: Why the Art Institute's handling of Gustave Caillebotte's sexuality is disappointing
We read with interest Hannah Elgar's feature 'How light a touch is too light?' (Aug. 3) about the handling of Gustave Caillebotte's sexuality by the Art Institute and the renaming of the exhibition 'Painting His World.' We were especially struck by the comments from Jonathan Katz because of our experience visiting the Caillebotte exhibit and 'The First Homosexuals' at Wrightwood 659, curated by Katz. I am a scholar of anti-discrimination law (and a faculty member at Loyola University Chicago School of Law), and my husband, David, is a teacher and student of art history. While we enjoyed the Caillebotte exhibit very much, we were disappointed at its elliptical (at best) treatment of Caillebotte's sexuality, for two reasons. It seemed insensitive to the realities of class, which in large part enabled Caillebotte to paint what he wished without worrying about sales or a disapproving public. But worse, one of our closest friends, Mark Brosmer, is a gay artist in Los Angeles — and an exhibit curated this way all but denies the artistic legacy of gay artists and gay life throughout history. In many of Caillebotte's paintings, we recognized a loving depiction of the sociability of gay men together in the past, something we have observed and enjoyed in the present day. 'The First Homosexuals,' by contrast, enthusiastically explores that legacy, helping the viewer to understand which artists felt freer to express their same-sex orientation in their art, and why; what those risks were and who was willing to take those risks. We immediately thought, 'Caillebotte belongs here!' — in an exhibit where the sensual, erotic and homosocial dimensions of his work and life could be foregrounded and celebrated. We hope many Chicagoans felt the her review of the Gustave Caillebotte show now on view at the Art Institute, Hannah Edgar questions the museum's decision to change the title of the exhibit from 'Caillebotte: Painting Men,' used by the Getty and Musee d'Orsay, to 'Caillebotte: Painting His World.' Her article explores whether this title change is based on an Art Institute decision to downplay the homoerotic aspects of some of the paintings. This change of title and emphasis strike me as minor considering that all three museums have displayed the same paintings and offered the same biographical information. There is a lack of evidence that Caillebotte was gay. Which makes the assertion of an art historian Edgar consults — that this is an example of queer erasure and is consistent with the Art Institute's pathological 1950s mindset — completely over the top and in fact a time when Catholics in Chicago are visibly proud of their religion, it is shameful than one organization has chosen to focus on the worst parts of their history. On May 8, Robert Prevost was elected as Pope Leo XIV, and the Chicago papers claimed him as 'Chicago's pope.' Everyone, no matter what their religion, was proud that Chicago could produce a man who was elevated to the papacy. Then in June, Chicago recognized the good work of another Catholic, Sister Rosemary Connelly. For over 50 years, Connelly was a dynamic force building Misericordia into a healthy home for children and adults with physical and developmental challenges. Politicians and church leaders were effusive in their praise of her work, and Chicago papers gave extensive coverage as a real testament to her years of service to the church. Recently, the church was once again recognized as a beacon of hope when the news focused on the works two valiant nuns, Sister Patricia Murphy and Sister JoAnn Persch, after Murphy passed away. Both women were recognized for spending more than 40 years championing the rights of the poor and the immigrants. They spent long hours with immigrants in detention and found ways to house the asylum-seekers sent to Chicago by Texas Gov. Abbott. These three wonderful church champions have made all Catholics feel good about their church and have encouraged many to emulate their actions. That is why it is so disconcerting that the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests, or SNAP, has chosen to grab the headlines by bringing up decades-old sexual abuse allegations. SNAP should continue to investigate these allegations, as it has been doing for the last many years, but it should do it quietly and stop grabbing the headlines and erasing the euphoric feelings of the Catholics in the Chicago Cubs will host the 2027 All-Star Game. It's about time the sport focuses its promotional energy on the upcoming event, rather than on special attraction games at a motor speedway park or a cornfield. I imagine a return to Hawaii or a game at an amusement park site is next. Wrigley Field is a showcase because it's a classic. Fans aren't clamoring for more bells and whistles. I hope Major League Baseball doesn't take it for granted.I won't be at Wrigley Field in 2027 for the All-Star Game, an ostentatious display of no consequence other than to line the pockets of sponsors and appease the egos of overpaid, uninterested athletes. But I agree with Jack Lavin's Aug. 5 op-ed ('MLB All-Star Game in 2027? Let's fly the 'W' for Chicago's economy') that it's good for the city and a chance to showcase the most iconic stadium in MLB. Sorry, Fenway Park, your Green Monster can't compete with Wrigley Field's ivy-covered walls. I hope the visitors enjoy the city and try a Chicago hot dog — with mustard, of course.
Chicago Tribune
30-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Column: The Art Institute defends the title of ‘Gustave Caillebotte: Painting His World.' A catalog contributor is skeptical
Since it was acquired in 1964, Gustave Caillebotte's 'Paris Street; Rainy Day' has become all but synonymous with the Art Institute. It appears in the movie 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off,' and in Masterpiece, the Parker Brothers game. If visitors follow one of the most common routes into the galleries — through the Michigan Avenue entrance, up the stairs, and into the Impressionism gallery — it's the first painting they'll greet, trading one urban tableau for another. For the first time, the museum displayed Caillebotte's sketches for 'Paris Street; Rainy Day' as part of 'Gustave Caillebotte: Painting His World,' a new survey co-curated by the Art Institute alongside the Musée d'Orsay in Paris and the Getty Museum in Los Angeles. In his surviving sketch of the central couple, only the man is rendered in any detail. The figure looped around his arm is just a woman-shaped void. Two things set Caillebotte (1848-1894) apart from his Impressionist peers. One is that he was fabulously wealthy, the son of a textile manufacturer. The other is that he overwhelmingly trained his artistic eye on other men. Men walking down the street in his Paris neighborhood. Men he played cards with. Men he hired as contractors to work his family estate. Men toweling themselves off after a bath — like in one 1884 painting deemed so salacious that, upon completion, it was intentionally displayed in a far-flung corner of a Brussels gallery. Gloria Groom, an exhibition co-curator and the Art Institute's chair of European painting and sculpture, said she cannot think of 'any other artist' from the period who shared Caillebotte's predilection for painting working-class men, like those depicted in his 'Floor Scrapers' series. 'That's what makes him so distinct from his fellow Impressionists: his comfortableness in the social position that he was born into,' Groom said. 'He's a distinct artist; he has a very distinct way of showing his world.' Recently, some have claimed the Art Institute is bowdlerizing that world. In the past year, the exhibit 'Painting His World' appeared at the Musée d'Orsay and the Getty under the title 'Gustave Caillebotte: Painting Men.' That the Art Institute alone selected a different title has led some to accuse the Art Institute of queer erasure, reflecting broader fears of institutional self-censorship. Jonathan Katz, the lead curator of 'The First Homosexuals' at Wrightwood 659, sees similarities between the Caillebotte fracas and the one surrounding the Art Institute's changing of a placard text in 2022. The work it accompanied, Félix González-Torres' 'Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.),' was named for González-Torres' partner Ross Laycock. The original placard noted that Laycock died of AIDS in 1991, the year the artwork was devised; the Art Institute's new placard, quickly replaced after public outcry, had removed mention of Laycock altogether. 'I'm always struck by the way this institution not only seems to be pathologically tied to a '50s mindset, but moreover, doesn't learn from its own stepping in it,' Katz said. Katz and his husband, fellow art scholar André Dombrowski, were invited to contribute an essay to the exhibition catalog — also titled 'Painting Men' — examining Caillebotte's work through a queer lens. On a recent walkthrough of the exhibition with the Tribune, Katz said he felt those contributions had been toned down significantly compared to the exhibition's first outing at the Musée d'Orsay, where 'Painting Men' had garnered a conservative backlash. In response, he said, the Musee d'Orsay held a conference inviting scholars to submit papers with competing views on the question of Caillebotte's sexuality. 'It was a model of curatorial transparency,' Katz said. 'That is not what this institution (the Art Institute) has ever done.' Johnny Willis, Katz's associate curator on 'The First Homosexuals,' confronted Groom about the exhibition's downplaying of queerness during an Art Institute Q&A in June. Groom declined to address Willis' concerns at length, saying it was common to change exhibition titles and that she would not 'speculate (about) something that was painted 140 years ago.' The following week, the Tribune published a letter to the editor objecting to Groom's response to Willis and to the Art Institute's title. 'It's disappointing to see the Art Institute — once a beacon for cultural leadership — kowtow to imagined donor discomfort or a conservative fear of thought-provoking conversation,' wrote attorney Matthew Richard Rudolphi. In an interview with the Tribune, Groom and a museum spokesperson provided more context on the title change. By their account, the Art Institute finalized the 'Painting His World' title nearly two years ago, based on feedback from a patron focus group that included that title, as well as 'Painting Men,' as options. The museum declined to provide materials from that audience survey, saying it considered the results proprietary. But Groom and a museum spokesperson, who both reviewed the feedback, said patrons overwhelmingly associated Caillebotte with 'Paris Street; Rainy Day,' which prominently features a heterosexual couple. 'The main thrust of the response was that ('Painting Men') was not what they think of, and it seemed limited when his work is not limited to just painting men,' Groom told the Tribune. Megan Michienzi, the museum spokesperson, said the Art Institute typically pursues such 'title testing' for its major exhibitions. For example, it title-tested 2023's 'Van Gogh and the Avant-Garde: The Modern Landscape,' as well as the forthcoming 'Bruce Goff: Material Worlds,' opening in December. 'While we do not consider title testing to be definitive, it is directional in helping us determine what resonates with audiences,' Michienzi said in an email. And just as exhibition titles sometimes change between host institutions — 'Myth and Marble,' for example, is now 'The Torlonia Collection: Masterpieces of Roman Sculpture' at the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts — Groom said it's standard museum practice for an institution to write its own exhibition texts, even if the exhibition is co-produced. That meant she and her team started from scratch rather than working from the Musée d'Orsay's or the Getty's wall texts, though she acknowledged that she was 'definitely aware' of what was written in both. 'I would never presume to copy someone else's text,' she said. 'We all know our audiences and Paris' are quite different; Getty's is different.' 'Painting His World' wall texts follow the general approach promised by its title. On this point, it breaks with the more frank discussion of gender and sexuality at the Musée d'Orsay and the Getty. 'Painting His World' views Caillebotte's homosociality as one interpretive frame of many — class, leisure, urbanity, family. Neither the d'Orsay nor the Getty assert that Caillebotte was gay or bisexual, noting, as does the Art Institute, that he had a live-in female 'companion.' (That said, we know little about her: Caillebotte rarely painted her, and census records refer to her only as Caillebotte's 'amie,' or 'friend.') But by leaning into his works' provocativeness and, occasionally, sensuality, both go further than the Art Institute in nodding to the possibility. To Katz, the Art Institute's approach leads to missed insights. Class tension is discussed in the room with Caillebotte's famous 'Floor Scrapers' — the workers' muscles rippling, their skin glistening like the varnish of the floor. But he believes the Art Institute's wall texts leave too much unspoken. 'While French law permitted homosexuality, it did not permit any form of public solicitation,' Katz said. 'If you were a man of a certain social class, you had a network of others who could provide entertainment for you that didn't entail public exposure. We wouldn't expect to find any kind of smoking gun there, because class protected them.' Elsewhere, the Art Institute's curatorial approach appeared more evasive. Most rooms in the exhibition flow sequentially — that is, you can only access one room via the previous, predetermining visitors' progression through the galleries. Unlike the Getty and Musée d'Orsay iterations, the gallery with the portraits and nudes, where the question of Caillebotte's sexuality is pointedly addressed for the first and only time, is the exception, sequestered in an area visitors can bypass completely if they choose. Groom said the placement of the three nudes in the space's gallery-within-a-gallery — featuring two men and one woman — was meant to evoke greater intimacy, as though we ourselves were entering the privacy of the subjects' quarters. Plus, in a clear break from the 19th-century squeamishness surrounding 'Man at His Bath,' the subject is placed so that his buttocks confront viewers from yards away. They could beckon you into that section — or they could drive you away. 'At the same time they deny an erotic reading, they enforce a kind of an erotic reading by creating a strip show in the middle of the exhibition,' Katz said. Near 'Man at His Bath' hangs 'Self-Portrait at the Easel' (1879-80), one of four self-portraits in the exhibition. Despite its name, that painting does not depict Caillebotte alone. Behind him is another man, lounging on a couch. The man's features are indistinct, but he's lazily reading a newspaper, leading scholars to identify him as Richard Gallo, a journalist in Caillebotte's wealthy bachelor circle. Gallo is one of the most frequently identifiable subjects in Caillebotte's paintings. He appears in six other pieces in 'Painting His World' alone. Unlike the Musée d'Orsay and the Getty, however, the Art Institute placard doesn't acknowledge Gallo's presence in the 'Self-Portrait.' Instead, it cites the artwork that hangs behind Gallo — Renoir's 'Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette' — as a launchpad to discuss Caillebotte's vast art collection, which eventually became the basis for the Musée d'Orsay. When I brought up the omission to Groom, she said visitors should consult the catalog — which acknowledges the significance of Gallo's presence early on, in the introduction — if they were curious about the second figure. 'You can only have 120 words in a label, and you have to determine what is most essential. And that was the time when we could talk about Caillebotte the collector,' she said. Katz doesn't buy that. 'Nobody is asking Gloria or any art historian to speak definitively about anything here. We can't,' he said. 'What we can do is problematize, ask, point out and let viewers draw their own conclusion. What we don't want is the institution to mediate for us in a single voice.' Policing visitors' impressions is the last thing a museum should do, but how light a touch is too light? On one of my two visits to the exhibition, I entered the gallery with a family who concluded, after reading the anteroom's introductory text, that Caillebotte must have been a misogynist. On the same visit, I watched a couple scour the gift shop for the exhibition catalog; after finding a book called 'Gustave Caillebotte: Painting Men' but not 'Gustave Caillebotte: Painting His World,' they left in empty-handed confusion. Revisiting the portraits and nudes section with Katz, I overheard a teasing tête-à-tête between a security guard and visitors about how they'd found the exhibition's 'adult section.' Seconds after I turned off my recorder during my walkthrough with Katz, a 20-something visitor, overhearing our conversation, approached us and timidly asked if we knew, perchance, whether Caillebotte was queer. Katz and I exchanged glances. The answer isn't the point. Being unafraid to pose the question is.
Chicago Tribune
05-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Letters: Title of exhibition at the Art Institute smacks of whitewashing
As a longtime supporter of the Art Institute of Chicago and an admirer of Gustave Caillebotte's work, I must express my profound disappointment with the institute's decision to rename the recent joint exhibition — originally titled 'Painting Men' at the Musée d'Orsay and the Getty Museum — to the sanitized and evasive 'Painting His World' here in Chicago. Having visited the d'Orsay's presentation last fall, where 'Paris Street; Rainy Day' — a masterpiece shared between Chicago and Caillebotte — stood as a centerpiece, I was struck by the French curatorial approach: thoughtful, honest and open to interpretation. The title 'Painting Men' was not an imposition or a presumption; it was an acknowledgment of the artist's lifelong preoccupation with the male figure, urban masculinity, and male intimacy in public and private spaces. By contrast, the Art Institute's retitling feels like a disappointing act of erasure. The new title not only dulls the edge of inquiry but reinforces the notion that recognition of queerness — or even ambiguity — in an artist's work must be neutralized for the comfort of a presumed audience. Equally troubling was curator Gloria Groom's response during Thursday night's member preview, in which she dismissed any exploration of Caillebotte's possible queerness by claiming she would not 'presume' his sexuality. Yet acknowledging that Caillebotte painted men — overwhelmingly, repeatedly and with intimacy — is not presumption. It's fact. What the French curators did so well was allow space for interpretation without fear, offering viewers the dignity of their own intelligence. Chicagoans deserve better. We should not shrink from critical engagement or whitewash complexity in the name of palatability. It's disappointing to see the Art Institute — once a beacon for cultural leadership — kowtow to imagined donor discomfort or a conservative fear of thought-provoking conversation. Let's trust our audiences, as the French have, to explore the fullness of an artist's world — including the people who populated constructive criticism by Edward Keegan in the Tribune ('Chicago Fire stadium plans cry out for a bit of quirkiness,' June 25) regarding the design of the new soccer stadium and the surrounding land referred to as The 78 in Chicago's South Loop prompts reflection on the many proposals for this land development, the Bears' new stadium and the possible new home for the White Sox. The design of the stadium and surrounding area offers a breath of fresh air in a city teeming with ideas but coming up short on the delivery. As a self-made man, Fire owner Joe Mansueto will fund this project with his own money as he has done with other projects mentioned by Keegan in the column. No whining. No pouting. No expectation of state funding nor Chicago resident tax dollars to build a private stadium for a soccer team. Yes, it differs from a traditional look in the stadium world. Open to criticism, the Gensler firm has presented a solid design. No political shenanigans. No groveling. A proposed start and finish date with a realistic budget. Rising above the need for a pat on the back, Mansueto has demonstrated the fortitude required to bring a solid idea to fruition with proper funding. Residents owe Mansueto our backing and a thank you for a job well has gotten a lot of bad press lately. As a lifelong Chicago-area resident, I would like to share some positives about a recent experience of mine. Last month, I walked from the West Ridge neighborhood to downtown and back — about 26.2 miles, or the distance of a marathon. I zigzagged through many neighborhoods, going through parks and streets. The street market in the Logan Square neighborhood went on for about a half mile. The stalls were packed with fruits, veggies, ethnic cuisine and even morel mushrooms. The music was lively, and the people were friendly. No police officers. As I approached, Humboldt Park was bustling with families out walking, kids playing ball and lovers holding hands. The park is where my parents courted in the 1940s. In my mind, I was able to picture them having a great day in the park. Part of the allure of this neighborhood is Humboldt Boulevard — gazing at the old mansions and churches that were once Jewish synagogues. I eventually headed to the United Center and then east. I can see how this neighborhood, once decimated by the riots of 1968 following the assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., has been transformed. The cafes and stores bustle with people of all ages. The West Loop is alive and well. In the 1970s, this was not possible. Once I got downtown, it was crowded for a Sunday. I headed back north, going through the North Side neighborhoods of Bucktown and Old Town. Some of the side streets are lovely, with a canopy of trees over the streets, beautiful gardens and the ever-present Chicago black wrought-iron fences. Going through Wrigleyville on a game day will always be an experience unto itself. The crowds gathered outside the ballpark were covered in Cubs wear. There were vendors selling water, peanuts, shirts and hats. The streets of Clark and Addison were blocked off, so it was like a street fair. The cops were friendly and helped tourists take pictures of the marquee. Then on to the Lakeview, Lincoln Square and Budlong Woods neighborhoods before returning to West Ridge. They were mostly subdued compared to the other areas that I covered, but they were all well kept up and clean. The city itself never looked better, and the people of this city do appreciate all that Chicago has to offer. There is an abundance of neighborhood parks in which everyone can enjoy a drink from a water fountain or a splash from it to cool off.I read that Mel Brooks just turned 99 years old. Maybe laughter is the best medicine.
Forbes
12-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Gustave Caillebotte's Unusual, Radical Impressionist Men On Tour
'Paris Street, Rainy Day,' 1877 Gustave Caillebotte (French, 1848-1894). Oil on canvas, 83 9/16 x 108 3/4 in (212.2 x 276.2 cm). The Art Institute of Chicago, Charles H. and Mary F. S. Worcester Collection, 1964.336. Art Resource, NY EX.2025.2.79 Degas' ballet dancers. Renoir's voluptuous nudes. Mary Cassatt and Berthé Morisot's mothers with children. Monet's portraits of his first wife Camille; Renoir's and Manet's portraits of Camille. French Impressionism was flush with paintings of women. Then there was Gustave Caillebotte (1848–1894). Caillebotte occupied a central position within the Impressionist group. His family wealth allowed him to become an essential financial backer to numerous Impressionist painters and amass one of the finest collections of their work. When Caillebotte died, his bequest of artwork to the French state eventually formed the backbone of Paris' Musée d'Orsay's unrivaled collection of Impressionist paintings. Renoir was the executor of his estate. Caillebotte was a damn good painter too, and he painted men. He painted men to such an unusual degree when compared to his contemporaries that three of the greatest art museums in the world–the Getty Center in Los Angeles, the Art Institute of Chicago, and the Orsay–have teamed up to explore why this was through an exhibition, 'Gustave Caillebotte: Painting Men.' On view are a stupefying assemblage of paintings among the most celebrated from the Impressionist movement and Modernism more broadly. Seeing them together like this without a time machine set for 1880s Paris, almost surely never again. Two are particularly noteworthy for filling art history textbooks: Floor Scrapers (1875) from the Orsay and the Art Institute's Paris Street, Rainy Day (1877). Paintings that turn ordinary people into art nerds. 'Floor Scrapers,' 1875, Gustave Caillebotte (French, 1848-1894). Oil on canvas, 40 3/16 x 57 1/16 in (102 x 145 cm). Musée d'Orsay, Paris. Gift of the heirs of Caillebotte through his executor Auguste Renoir, 1894. Musée d'Orsay. dist Grand Palais RMN / Patrice Schmidt EX.2025.2.32 Answering the million-dollar question of why Caillebotte painted more men more prominently than any other Impressionist by a wide margin begins with biography. The artist came from a family of brothers, went to all male schools, served in the all-male French military, and trained as an artist in an all-male studio. He was a member of numerous amateur associations like the Paris Sailing Club that were exclusively male. He was a committed bachelor his entire life. All the other French Impressionist men lived in a similarly male dominated society, so that's only part of the answer. Caillebotte's reality was unique from his peers due to his wealth. His father accumulated a self-made fortune and then died along with Caillebotte's mother and a brother in quick succession in the 1870s, leaving the artist money to share with one other brother before turning 30. Flush with cash, Caillebotte didn't need to create for the market. He could paint whatever he wanted, even subjects not favored by collectors. Subjects like men. And not men of the aristocracy. 'Caillebotte had a lot of cross class affinity,' Getty curator Scott Allan told 'He's interested in working guys. He's comfortable around working guys; often, they're his employees, but you get this sense that Caillebotte was happier hanging out with the gardener, or the sailors he employed, or the guys at the shipyard that were building the boats he designed, than he was making the rounds in high society in Paris.' Such was the case with Floor Scrapers. 'This was not a subject you saw on the walls of the (Paris) Salon. There are plenty of pictures touching on themes of labor, but it's always peasant labor out in the countryside; (Caillebotte) modernizes it and urbanizes it,' Allan said. 'It was a provocative choice to have these working-class guys stripped to the waist in a fancy bourgeois apartment.' The painting was made six years after the Paris Commune, a brutally suppressed working class uprising. 'There's a lot of anxiety among the property classes about potential further violent uprisings–there's a big wealth gap,' Allan explained. 'Caillebotte was being politically provocative too in his choice of some of these male subjects; he wanted to push the limits.' Caillebotte's interest in painting men is also tied up in his country's history immediately predating the 1871 Paris Commune. 'After France's defeat in the Franco-Prussian war (1870–1871), there's a heightened concern about the state of French manhood, virility,' Allan said. The Franco-Prussian war was a humiliating, demoralizing affair for the French, ending the nation's power over continental Europe. 'So, there's this new cultural emphasis on virility and that comes across in Caillebotte's art,' Allan continued. 'He's invested in certain notions of masculinity in complicated and nuanced ways. His depictions of modern sportsmen, bathers, soldiers all key into this broader concern around issues of virility.' Caillebotte's career also coincides with the beginning of France's Third Republic (1870–1940). 'There's this rejuvenation of these Republican values: liberty, equality, fraternity,' Allan said. 'A new reemphasis on this idea of fraternity–of democratic male citizenship–is important in the cultural background. This idea of fraternity is a good overarching framework for this exhibition because it works on the family level, but also more broadly on the social, cultural, political level. It is a concept that runs through the exhibition in a lot of ways.' 'Fraternity' not in the American sense of college guys getting drunk and acting a fool; 'fraternity' in the sense of brotherhood. Values, interests, and objectives for the nation shared by men. A bond. 'Boating Party,' about 1877-78. Gustave Caillebotte (French, 1848-1894). Oil on canvas, 35 1/4 x 45 15/16 in (89.5 x 116.7 cm). Musée d'Orsay, Paris. Painting listed "national treasure" by the French Republic, acquired with the exclusive patronage of LVMH, major patron of the Musée d'Orsay, 2022. Grand Palais RMN (Musée d'Orsay) / Franck Raux EX.2025.2.35 Caillebotte's wealth and the artistic freedom it provided him was also paired with great ambition and a radical streak. 'He's in this very competitive avant-garde milieu. Degas is doing his milliners and laundresses and ballet dancers. Renoir is doing these pretty Parisiennes–these major figure painters that he is friends with and rivals with, and modern masculinity is relatively untapped iconographic terrain,' Allan said. '(Painting men is) a way for Caillebotte to differentiate himself and broaden the horizons of painting modern life.' Caillebotte routinely, provocatively, intentionally substituted men into paintings where women had previously been. Men playing the piano. Men rowing boats. 'He unsettles the gender expectation of painting. He does it time and again. One obvious example, his notorious, naked man toweling off after a bath (1884's Man at His Bath),' Allan said. 'This is something you did not see, especially in large scale painting at the time–totally unheard of. There are plenty of nude bathers, but it's always women. In Caillebotte's immediate circle in the 1880s, Degas is doing one nude female bather after another, and they're incredibly radical from an artistic point of view, but kind of conventional in this focus on the female nude.' As a response, Caillebotte applied the male gaze to men. Again, directly from the artist's lived experience. He would have seen naked men bathing while serving in the army and then the reserves. He would have seen floor scrappers working on his properties. Paris Street, Rainy Day, that was the path he walked through Paris daily. 'He's an iconographic innovator. He's highly original in his selection of subjects and I think he wanted to be seen as extremely original and modern and bold in his choices,' Allan said. 'Part of his strategy is a gendered strategy. He's really aware of what the artists in the circle are doing.' 'Man at His Bath,' 1884, Gustave Caillebotte (French, 1848-1894). Oil on canvas 57 x 45 in (144.8 x 114.3 cm). Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Museum purchase with funds by exchange from an anonymous gift, Bequest of William A. Coolidge, Juliana Cheney Edwards Collection, and from the Charles H. Bayley Picture and Painting Fund, Mary S. and Edward J. Holmes Fund, Fanny P. Mason Fund in memory of Alice Thevin, Arthur Gordon Tompkins Fund, Gift of Mrs. Samuel Parkman Oliver—Eliza R. Oliver Fund, Sophie F. Friedman Fund, Robert M. Rosenberg Family Fund, and funds donated in honor of George T. M. Shackelford, Chair, Art of Europe, and Arthur K. Solomon Curator of Modern Art, 1996–2011. © 2025 Museum of Fine Arts, Boston EX. 2025.2.80 Was Caillebotte gay? Is that the reason he painted so many men? 'It's a hard question to resolve,' Allan admitted. 'His paintings certainly make room for a homoerotic gaze, people bring that to the paintings for sure. It's a valid response, but in the show, (we're) trying to avoid reducing the art to the question of the artist's sexuality. We really want to emphasize the issue of gender expression and how it intersects with painting and Caillebotte's interest in modern masculinity.' No contemporary correspondence or accounts from the artist or associates indicates Caillebotte was gay. He did have a prominent, long-term relationship of an uncertain nature with a woman. Viewers get into trouble reading 19th century paintings from a 21st century perspective, especially when it comes to sexuality. 'Relations between men were very different in the 19th century,' Allan said. 'If you read correspondence between men in the 19th century, sometimes it can seem weirdly intimate in a way that that is very different from today.' Man at His Bath feels homoerotic in 2025. Maybe. Maybe it was contemporary commentary on new hygiene practices promoted within the French army Caillebotte observed. Maybe it was deliberately provocative. Maybe it was a response to Degas. The exhibition goes out of its way not to bog down over the 'is he/isn't he' question of Caillebotte's sexuality. 'You get into these terrible conversations where the people who don't want a queer reading of Caillebotte will be like, 'Well, look, he did a female nude too, and that's an even bigger and more important painting.' Then the people who want to advance a queer reading of Caillebotte will be like, 'Don't straight-wash Caillebotte,' Allan said. 'I don't want to reduce the art to the question of the artist's sexuality. That's so reductive. The nude is a major genre of painting with a long tradition, and first and foremost, we have to understand how Caillebotte is intervening in a genre of painting and doing interesting new things that mess with our expectations, maybe unsettle our position as viewers. That's part of the radical charge of his art. To simply say, 'Oh, he was gay, and that's why he painted this,' it's so much more interesting and complicated than that.' 'Painting Men' can be seen for free at the Getty Center in Los Angeles through May 25, 2025, before heading off to the Art Institute of Chicago from June 29 to October 5, 2025.
Los Angeles Times
04-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
It's raining men at the Getty's survey of Impressionist painter Gustave Caillebotte
Whether French Impressionist painter Gustave Caillebotte was gay is not known, although it is frequently noted that he never married. (The artist died young, at 45, in 1894 from what is thought to have been a stroke.) Certainly, however, Caillebotte was homosocial. Evidence of the importance to him of strong social interactions with other men, rather than women, is all over his work. Workmen scraping wood floors in a room that would become the artist's studio. A man leaning casually against a cafe table, other men across the bar reflected in the mirror behind him. Men rowing boats on the river, reading books or newspapers, playing the piano, working at a desk or merely sitting in a comfortable chair lost in thought. Men playing cards at home. Men looking out over the city from balconies or gazing at it through the crisscrossed steel girders of a bridge. Men toweling themselves dry after a bath. The emphasis on men's daily lives is very unusual, given the prominence of women as subject matter in scores of paintings of the period by Manet, Degas, Morisot, Monet, Renoir, Cassatt and more of his Impressionist friends and colleagues in Paris. Feminine activity as seen by artists both male and female is a primary focus of those artists' works. But in Caillebotte's art, it's raining men. At the J. Paul Getty Museum, the first Los Angeles museum survey of Caillebotte's paintings in 30 years brings the atypical subject to the foreground in engrossing ways. The artist has been routinely positioned as 'the forgotten' or 'the unsung' Impressionist, his name hardly as familiar as so many others, although there has been no shortage of scholarly and museum attention to his art since the 1970s. He's far from overlooked. But, oddly enough, his distinctive theme of masculinity emerging in a modern context has been largely unnoticed in museum exhibitions before now. 'Gustave Caillebotte: Painting Men' fixes that. With more than 60 paintings and almost as many drawings and studies, the show shifts attention away from stylistic analysis of Impressionist painting's formal structures and working methods, at which Caillebotte was not always adept, to issues of identity explored in subject matter. Forget close study of broken brushwork. In the French Republic's revolutionary motto of Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité, which cracked open modernity, brotherhood's place in ideas of freedom and social equality gets examined. Caillebotte's actual younger brother, René, was the model for 'Young Man at His Window,' a terrific 1876 painting acquired by the Getty in 2021, and one spur to organizing this show. Getty curator Scott Allan worked with Paul Perrin, director of collections at Paris' Musée d'Orsay, where the exhibition was seen last fall, and Gloria Groom, curator at the Art Institute of Chicago, where it concludes its international tour beginning in June. René, shown from behind, face unseen, is anonymous in 'Young Man at His Window,' a nearly 4-foot vertical painting. Elegantly dressed, he holds a firm, wide stance, hands thrust in pockets, as he looks out over a smart urban intersection from an upper floor of his wealthy family's new home in Paris' fashionable 8th arrondissement. A few carriages are passing by; near the center, a chic young female pedestrian about to arrive at the curb is a possible focus of his regard. A plush, red velvet fauteuil tucked into the lower right corner of the picture is like an upscale launching pad, which has propelled the man to the balustrade along a tall French window. Opposing diagonals of the room and the opened right-hand window meet at a pointed angle where René stands, placing him smack at the center of a jutting space. It's as if he's plowing forward on the prow of a ship. The clever composition emphasizes his dynamic placement as a commander of the modern city, spreading out below. Caillebotte's best paintings exploit such savvy compositional drama, which signals a keen awareness of performing for a viewer standing in front of the canvas. 'Floor Scrapers,' a personal favorite, assumes an intimate vantage point of looking down toward the workmen's vigorous labor, which results in a floor that appears vertiginously tilted up. It's as if the shirtless workmen might soon tumble into a viewer's space. 'Paris Street, Rainy Day,' easily Caillebotte's most famous (and largest) painting, is a push-pull extravaganza of male urban energy. A vertical lamppost splits the scene roughly into halves. In the closely cropped right half, a man confidently leads a woman toward us by the arm, while in the left half, mostly men bustle about in the space opened in a broad intersection created by dramatically thrusting buildings. Way over to one side, the front end of a carriage miraculously — and impossibly — vanishes behind two pedestrians. The visual trick may have been created by the artist's use of a common optical viewing aid called a camera lucida. If so, the painted visual surprise, which the painter surely knew, is one more nod to our status as keen observers. The urban push-pull of 'Paris Street, Rainy Day' becomes the recreational play of looking at art. The game continues in 'Boating Party,' which puts us inside a rowboat right up close to a top-hatted rower whose exertion will paradoxically pull the boat away from where we stand. Our vision zooms in, while the rower is poised to zoom out. In the rarely seen 'Man at His Bath,' the tug assumes a culturally determined tension around male nudity. We unexpectedly find ourselves in an ordinary guy's presence after he has just gotten out of the privacy of a bathtub and is toweling himself off. He's nearly life-size. Caillebotte has jettisoned the usual classical trappings of Greek and Roman heroes, which typically cloak male nudes in sober history and myth. How closely should we — male or female — be examining this man's lovingly painted buttocks? Sometimes the composition gets away from Caillebotte, despite the best of intentions. Another painting accomplishes a snappy cultural reversal by putting Charlotte Berthier, his longtime female companion (whom he chose not to marry), in the extreme foreground reading a newspaper, while a man in the background is stretched out on a sofa reading a book. It's a pointed swap of the usual reading material shown in traditional Western pictures of women and men. The composition portrays her alert perusal of a text connected to the public world of action, and him relaxing with a text connected to a contemplative interior life. Unlike the lovely woman, however, the man on the couch is awkwardly drawn, and the shift in scale is all wrong. Overwhelmed by big, floral-patterned cushions, he looks like a child or a doll. The clumsiness derails the scene. Indeed, each of the show's seven thematic sections is anchored by a single strong painting. The rest are subsidiary — helpful in fleshing out the period themes of masculinity based on family, work, friendships, sports and the like, but also evidence for why Caillebotte doesn't rank in the top tier of Impressionist painters. Overall, with most paintings bland, unadventurous or ungainly, he just isn't that good — perhaps unsurprising for a serious career that didn't last much more than a decade. That fact has been unmistakable since 1976, when Houston's Museum of Fine Arts sparked the general revival of interest in his work with the artist's first full retrospective exhibition in the U.S. (The Getty's is the fourth.) Here was a fresh Impressionist face from America's favorite modern art movement, but just a handful of pictures were top-notch. He made around 500 paintings during his lifetime, so the ratio is poor. The date of the Houston show is revealing. It coincides with the efflorescence of 1970s feminist art history. Among the many benefits of feminist scholarship and its focus on the complex nature of identity has been the subsequent study of homosocial experience. For men, same-sex socialization must also deal with the conventional oppression against homosexuality — a categorizing term invented when Caillebotte was 20 and in common usage by the time he died. In modern life, men can get close to other men — just not too close. Think again about 'Young Man at His Window.' For all we know, Caillebotte's brother René could be looking to see who's riding in the far carriage passing by in the distance, or getting out of the carriage pulled up by the curb just below his window. Maybe it's a man. Maybe the prominent placement of a lone young woman in the center intends to provide a protective shield, offering another ambiguous prospect. Painting men in late 19th century France meant that caution had to be taken. Today, when issues of marginalized identity are under massive political assault, the Getty show opens up tantalizing questions.
