ARTicle 2 for l’Edicola / The Musée d’Orsay
As I sit down with my paints to sketch a few small colour studies of one of the greatest colourists of the early 20th century, I try to retrace the first feeling I had when encountering his work for the first time. A sense of spirit, a sense of light, a sense of romance, a sense of peace. It was everything all at once. You might be thinking I am referring to Henri Matisse’s iconic oeuvre, and, although I am a true fan of his, this particular person’s work, although widely popular, would still be categorised as more ‘niche’. Indeed, the person in question is the French painter, illustrator and printmaker, Pierre Bonnard. Unlike other painters whose work it took me time to gel with and properly understand, Bonnard’s work has truly always resonated with my soul. Getting the chance to witness a few ‘Bonnards’ over the summer at the Musée d’Orsay (one of my all-time favourite museums) left me with the feeling I always have after experiencing his work: energised, hopeful, and with a strong urge to rush back to the studio to study the intricately crafted palettes on his canvases. Harmoniously placed side by side, his colours seem to beam off of one another, as if every single one of them was placed there for a specific reason, in a specific context. His intimate subject matters, such as the domestic interiors where windows and verandas can be seen, or the passion he held in painting his lifelong partner and muse, Martine de Méligny bathing or sitting in their kitchen all deepen the message of romance he conveys through his sensitive choice of colour.
Having been a founding member of Les Nabis (a group of young French artists in the late 19th/early 20th century who bridged the gap between Impressionism and early modern abstraction), Bonnard had a particular penchant for Japanese art. In fact, he was nicknamed the ‘Japanese Nabi’ due to his intense fascination with Japanese ukiyo-e woodblock prints. Funnily enough, I have also always been drawn to Japanese art (perhaps due to most of my childhood spent in Asia) which makes me think that when one appreciates an artist in whatever form (be it music, art, cinema…), there is a very high chance you and that artist may have the same taste and admiration for other specific artists, cultures, subject matters. My interest in Japanese art has grown considerably in the last year, with one of the best shows of 2026 for me being that of Hokusai’s in Palazzo Bonaparte back in June. On that note, when walking into room 72 of the museum, I was immediately struck by the beauty of a group of four tall decorative panels (of which I painted small studies of as you can see) called ‘Femmes au Jardin’ (1891), all hugely inspired by Japanese art: their vertical formats (hinting at a ‘kakemono’ format), their lack of conventional perspective, their flattened sense of space, their patterns… These elements all point to a very ‘Japanese print-like’ style which a large amount of Les Nabis were fascinated by. The four panels which feature a woman in a white polkadot dress, a seated woman with a cat, one with a chequered dress, and the last one with a cape all coordinate so beautifully together as a decorative screen but were also created to work as individual pieces, which I found interesting. Another intriguing observation one can make when contemplating these works is the blending of patterns between the dresses of the ladies and the nature that surrounds them. Bonnard flattens the distinction between the figures and their environment, which is exactly what Les Nabis emphasised on: less focus on illusionistic depth and more emphasis on flat colours and decorative pattern. This is surprisingly something I can value in these works but do not wish to apply to mine. It is what finding one’s style is all about for me: resonating with certain pieces on an aesthetic level and then figuring out what to take from them or not in one’s work. Although I prefer incorporating some elements of perspective in my own work, I can confidently say that Bonnard and Denis as a matter of fact have heavily influenced my practice in their use of colour invoking, in my opinion, a powerful sensation of spirit, even within non-believers.
Being part of Les Nabis (in Hebrew meaning ‘Prophets’), Bonnard found common interest within this space with other artists such as Maurice Denis (arguably the most spiritual Nabi and also one of my favourite artists), Édouard Vuillard, Paul Sérusier, Jan Verkade… A specific series of Vuillard’s work, also present in the same room as Bonnard at the Musée d’Orsay, particularly struck me. His 1894 series of ‘Les Jardins Publics’ is an ambitious nine-panel decorative cycle (however only five of these being present in the collection) that immerses the viewer into an almost ‘tapestry-like’ scene of everyday life of wealthy Parisians relaxing in public parks. One can feel a similar spirit to Bonnard’s work in these pieces. In fact, initially, I was convinced they were Bonnard paintings, which just goes to show the beauty of like-minded artists contributing to sharing a similar spirit and manifesting this through their creations.