Parisian Café Society generally evokes images of glamour and extravagance blended with that certain "je ne sais quoi" that has made the French the epitome of chic. This same exoticism would be expected from "Café and Cabaret: Toulouse-Lautrec's Paris", an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (MFA). Unfortunately, the exhibit diminishes the brilliance of Parisian nightlife that Toulouse-Lautrec so famously portrayed.
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901) was one of the most influential artists of post-Impressionist France, renowned for his depictions of the makers and shakers of the cabaret nightclubs and café-concerts that dominated the Parisian social scene of the late 19th century. As the title suggests, the focus of the exhibit is the radiance of the bohemian celebrity culture that Lautrec promoted through his actual life and his artwork.
Lautrec developed a personal style in harmony with the vivacity and boldness of the era. He was especially influential in the transformation of the poster and his lithographs — reminiscent of vintage advertisements — were amusing commentaries on the narcissism of the culture. Lautrec's prints use brightly colored grease crayons to emphasize the glitz of the café-clubs. His sketches utilize bold shapes and expressive silhouettes to illustrate the body language of his subjects. His caricatured approach enhances the dreamlike fantasies experienced behind cabaret doors.
The MFA's exhibition is on view in the Mary Stamas Gallery, which is actually a stunted hallway, far from the grandiose and spacious area that such overpowering lithographs deserve. The 35 pieces seemed rather squashed — jumbled together with massive color prints beside diminutive black and white sketches. This lack of cohesion makes it very easy for some pieces to be overlooked.
Although the title insinuates a focus on only Lautrec's work, "Café and Cabaret" features several of his contemporaries' works as well. Most of these additions do little to complement Lautrec's unrepeatable style, and the removal of these prints would have allowed the visitor to more greatly appreciate Lautrec's exceptionality as an artist.
Entering the exhibit, the viewer is immediately seduced by the two grandest and most recognizable prints of the collection. "Aristide Bruant in his Cabaret" (1892) is Lautrec's depiction of his friend and fellow artist Aristide Bruant, a recurrent performer at the Le Chat Noir café-club. The massive print showcases Bruant, dressed in all black with a red scarf, presumably on stage, with a dark figure in the background looking on.
Here, the overlap between Lautrec's art and personal life is obvious. His subjects were often his personal supporters and closest friends, their presence in his art enhancing the exclusivity and cyclical nature of the café-club society.
The second prominent work, "Le Chat Noir" (1898), is a lithograph produced by Théophile-Alexandre Steinlen, a contemporary of Lautrec's whose prints are scattered throughout the exhibit. "Le Chat Noir" is comprised of a simple tri-hued color scheme. Using textual enhancement and dramatic magnetism, Steinlen advertises the Montmartre club frequented by the same coterie depicted in Lautrec's prints.
While themes of self-promotion and connecting a viewing public to the enchanting cabaret lifestyle repeat themselves throughout Lautrec's work, two pieces at the end of the hall — directly across from Stenlein's astounding "Le Chat Noir" — underscore the lack of solidity in the exhibit.
Lautrec's "The Rabbit Waltz" and "Swallows of the Sea" (1895) are two black and white lithographic music sheet covers that depict rabbits in a forest and a ship lost at sea, respectively. There are neither people nor cabarets depicted in these prints, nor are they poster-like in any fashion. Whereas all the other pieces are hung, these two pieces are gracelessly placed in a glass top table at the end of a hall. It might seem that the curators were cognizant of that their presence in the exhibit makes little sense.
Those hoping to be transported to an era when words like recession and simplicity didn't exist will be satisfied by the exuberance and urban thrill of Toulouse-Lautrec's Paris. However, any serious Francophile or art connoisseur anticipating a profound insight into this esteemed artist's work will be disenchanted by the uninspiring exhibit that entirely disregards the sheer glamour of La Belle Époque and Lautrec's personal life.
