The struggle to surpass nature
Alan Caine reviews The Courtauld Cézannes exhibition
4 July 2008

In Card Players (c 1892-95) the personalities of the two men are revealed in their hats, their postures and the shape of the jackets moulded to their bodies

It is hard to find even a touch of genius in the paintings of the young Paul Cézanne, where titles like The Murder or The Temptation of St Anthony reflect a level of confused, smudgy emotion. This is the same Cézanne whose mature works can produce in the viewer a depth of response which puts his name among the major European artists of the last millennium. Eighteen significant works owned by the Courtauld Gallery make up this 75th anniversary exhibition.

Cézanne left behind these dramatic subjects in his 30s and took nature as his major theme. In a letter to the artist Emile Bernard (belonging to the Courtauld and exhibited), which he wrote a few weeks before he died in 1906, he said: "I constantly study from nature, and I think that I am making slow progress... Please excuse me for returning constantly to the same point; but I believe in the logical development of what we see and experience through the study of nature, even if that means concerning myself with technical questions afterwards; for us, technical questions are merely the means of making the public experience what we ourselves experience, and of making us acceptable. This is what the greats whom we admire must have done."

Cézanne developed a deep visual lyricism. Chestnut Trees at the Jas de Bouffan (c 1883) is composed of six trees and a low horizon with a trace of wall and buildings. Four-fifths of the space is leaves and sky. The varying greens of leaf areas are carefully laid down with touches of other colours to give resonance. Set against the slow upward motion (sometimes curving) of tree trunks, they invite the eye to stare and to be mesmerised by the movement of light, the rhythm of the form, the temperature of colours and the hum of a balanced composition.

One of the finest works in this collection is the 1887 Montagne Sainte-Victoire. This subject, a local mountain, is repeated in painting after painting until the end of Cézanne's life. We know that he was more interested in familiar sites than new ones. Writing to his son a fortnight before the Bernard correspondence, he said: "I must tell you that I am becoming more clear-sighted before nature, but that with me the realisation of my sensations is always painful. I cannot attain the intensity that is unfolded before my senses. I have not the magnificent richness of colouring that animates nature. Here on the bank of the river the motifs multiply, the same subject seen from a different angle offers subject for study of the most powerful interest, and so varied that I think I could occupy myself for months without changing place, by turning now more to the right, now more to the left."

It is hardly possible to overlook the transcendent association of mountains (Olympus, Fuji, Sinai) which must have been part of his consciousness. The clear horizontal rhythm of the valley changes into sensuous, almost physical shapes as the mountain emerges. In his landscapes people never appear, but the sense of a lived-in area remains.

Although he chooses not to include figures in landscapes (except for the series of bathers which are not part of this exhibition), the faces and figures of his wife, son, friends, the gardener and some local people are significant subjects. Among the Courtauld Cézannes is perhaps the greatest of the five versions of his Card Players (c 1892-95). Two working men, one with a pipe, sit across from each other silently playing cards on a table. Their bent elbows form an almost symmetrical "W" shape across the centre. The hats, the jackets moulded to their bodies and their individual postures reveal personality. They inspect the cards. At the centre stands a dark bottle against dark wood. We are hypnotised by an intense, tightly balanced symmetry and the interlocking of space and consciousness.

Man with a Pipe (c 1892-95) is a portrait of one of these men: same pipe in his mouth, same hat. What we find is the topography of his face: the shape of his brow, the flesh and shadow which make the nose and also the particular form of his eye and its socket. The waistcoat, shirt and jacket make shapes as they hang on this particular man. Character? Yes, but it has not been found by drilling (Rembrandt-like) into his soul. Cézanne has looked with such care and has so painstakingly and deftly recorded his sensations that an underlying consciousness emerges, silently.

In the still life paintings, brighter colours are used. A pear, an apple, cloth or a statue become so much a part of the whole carefully built composition that the picture would fall apart if any item were removed. The coherence of object against object, rhythm connected to rhythm, allow the work to enter our consciousness with a sense of wholeness and revelation.

The Courtauld's mixture of drawings, still life and paintings (including the splendid Lac d'Annecy) explores the heart of Cézanne's works within the space of one room, moving between intimate studies and final works, each illuminating the other.