The man who 'invented' Impressionism
by Alastair Sooke
Few movements in the history of art feel as familiar as
Impressionism. Barely a week goes by without Monet and his
contemporaries generating headlines for one reason or another.
Impressionist paintings attract astronomical prices at auction.
Impressionist exhibitions are mainstays at museums because they offer a
guaranteed way of drumming up a crowd.

Durand-Ruel, seen here in about 1910, organised several
high-profile exhibitions of Impressionist works and helped
win the movement critical respect (Archives Durand-Ruel &
Cie) |
Even people with a cursory interest in modern art have heard the
story of the notorious show of 1874, when a group of independent French
artists staged what would become known as the first Impressionist
exhibition away from the official Salon.
Surely there is nothing new to say about the movement that launched a
thousand tea towels?
Actually, perhaps there is. Inventing Impressionism, a recent
exhibition at the National Gallery in London, offered an ingenious,
fresh take on a well-worn subject. Following its opening, one British
art critic, Richard Dorment, hailed it as the most significant
Impressionist exhibition in the UK for two decades.
Filled with masterpieces by Monet, Pissarro, Degas, Renoir, Sisley
and Manet, the exhibition tells the story of the far-sighted French art
dealer Paul Durand-Ruel (1831-1922). During the course of his long
career, it is estimated that up to 12,000 Impressionist paintings passed
through Durand-Ruel's hands.
According to the exhibition's argument, which is based on recent
research conducted in the Durand-Ruel family archives, Durand-Ruel did
not create Impressionism - that, of course, was the achievement of the
artists themselves. But he did discover the movement and bring it to
universal attention. In other words, he was responsible for branding and
promoting Impressionism. Without him, the movement wouldn't be the
popular juggernaut it is today.
Birth of a movement

Pissaro painted The Avenue, a view of the London suburb
Sydenham, while in exile during the Franco-Prussian War – it
was then that he met Durand-Ruel (National Gallery, London) |

Durand-Ruel first championed Impressionism after meeting
Pissaro, and then Monet, who painted London’s Green Park
(Green Park in London 1871/Claude Monet) |
So what do we know about this Svengali of modern art? Surprisingly,
given his risk-taking taste for the avant-garde, his temperament was
conservative. The son of a successful art dealer, he grew up to become a
conventional, haute-bourgeois Frenchman. "He was a monarchist and very
Catholic, and he valued his probity," says Christopher Riopelle of the
National Gallery, one of the curators of the exhibition, which has
already visited Paris and will travel to the Philadelphia Museum of Art
this summer.
Having followed in his father's footsteps, Durand-Ruel was interested
at first in the generation preceding the Impressionists: the likes of
Delacroix and Courbet, as well as Corot, Millet and Rousseau. His
conversion to Impressionism occurred in 1870, when he was living in
exile in London during the Franco-Prussian War.
The French painter Daubigny introduced him to Monet and Pissarro, who
were also exiled, and he fell in love with their work at once. He bought
several pictures by them, including a panorama of London's Green Park by
Monet and a view of the residential suburb Sydenham by Pissarro, who
later wrote, "Without him, we should have died of hunger in London."
Back in Paris by 1872, he spotted two paintings by Édouard Manet,
including a stunning still life called The Salmon (1869), in the studio
of another artist. On a whim, he bought them both - as well as 21 other
pictures that he saw when he visited Manet's studio later that same
month. In that spree alone, he spent 35,000 francs on paintings by Manet
- which, in 1872, was an extremely bold and risky thing to do. In fact,
his extravagant spending in these early years, when Impressionism as yet
had no market to speak of, almost bankrupted him. But he felt sure that
his gamble would eventually pay off.
Making money off Monet
In time, it did - thanks largely to various strategies that he
concocted in order to build a market for Impressionism. He masterminded
the second Impressionist exhibition of 1876 at his own gallery, ensuring
that professional standards were employed. Later he inaugurated a series
of one-man shows for individual Impressionist artists that helped win
them serious attention.
He allowed curious visitors to enter his elegant, art-bedecked
apartment, which functioned as an unofficial showroom. And he persuaded
wealthy Americans to start purchasing Impressionist pictures. "The
Americans don't criticise, they buy," he said. "As a result, a group of
artists who were largely reviled became one of the most popular art
movements in the world," says Riopelle. "This did not just happen.
Manipulations had to be done. And one of the prime manipulators was
Durand-Ruel."

Luncheon of the Boating Party 1880-81/Pierre-Auguste Renoir |
Perhaps his greatest coup, though, came towards the end of his life.
In 1905, at the Grafton Galleries in London, he organised a mammoth
exhibition of Impressionism boasting 315 works of art, including 196
from his own collection.With many impressive, large canvases such as
Manet's portrait of Eva Gonzalès (1870) and Renoir's Luncheon of the
Boating Party (1880-81), it has been described as the greatest
exhibition of Impressionist art ever mounted. And even though London's
sluggish collectors didn't take to it (only 13 sales were recorded,
almost exclusively to foreigners), it would have a lasting impact upon
perceptions of the movement.
"By this point, Durand-Ruel was an old man," says Riopelle, "and he
decided to make a final great statement of what he had done - to write,
if you will, the history of Impressionism so far. And by and large the
story of Impressionism that we still believe today was the story laid
out on those walls in that triumphant exhibition of 1905. In the true
sense of the word, Durand-Ruel really did 'invent' Impressionism."
Alastair Sooke is
art critic of The Daily Telegraph and this article was originally
published in BBC Culture |