Van Gogh Museum Journal 1999

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fig. 1
Giuseppe de Nittis, The Victoria Embankment, London, 1875, USA, private collection

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Spatial engineer and social recorder: Giuseppe de Nittis and the development of 19th-century cityscape imagery
Caroline Igra

The recent sale of Giuseppe de Nittis's Victoria Embankment, London(fig. 1),¹ a work that bears a striking resemblance to Monet's Houses of Parliament (London, National Gallery), has awakened interest in the influence this lesser-known Italian artist might have had on the evolution of cityscape imagery in 19th-century France. Despite the fact that de Nittis produced numerous cityscapes during his 17-year tenure in Paris, making him one of the most prolific artists in this genre, his role in its development has generally been underestimated. Still, the combination of striking spatial constructions and contemporary subject matter in his works, all dating from the 1870s and early 1880s, compel consideration of his part in the revival of the painted cityscape.

1 New York (Christie's), 5 May 1998, lot 38.

The development of space

De Nittis entered the Parisian art world at the Salon of 1872, with the exhibition of a small, unobtrusive painting entitled The road from Brindisi to Barletta (fig. 2). This image of a horse-drawn wagon accompanied by two workers on a lonely country road in southern Italy might have been overlooked due to its modest subject. Instead, the artist's use of a strong, expressive, spatially-aggressive style to depict the quiet country scene captured the attention of many critics.²

Victor Cherbuliez wrote: ‘This carriage, this horse, these strollers are masterpieces,’³ and he forecast great things for the Italian artist - ‘a very young man about whom one can predict, without risk of being mistaken, that if he decides to do so he will go far.’⁴ Writing in the Gazette des Beaux-Arts, Paul Mantz stated that his name was one that ‘should be remembered,’⁵ and The road was later considered to have secured his reputation: ‘Every year since [1872], M. de Nittis has attracted and held the attention of the critics, so powerfully awoken.’⁶

Beyond bringing the Italian instant recognition in Parisian artistic circles, The road from Brindisi to Barletta came to play a role in the development of avant-garde landscape painting. While still conforming to a traditional aesthetic (demonstrated by the acclaim it received at the official Salon), the image bore witness to an inventive stylistic exploration on the artist's part that would be of enormous interest to modernist French painters in later years.⁷ De Nittis formulated his composition using a rapidly receding perspective that draws the viewer into the picture at an almost alarming rate, reaching the two figures only after tunnelling through a broad, empty foreground. The construction is so strong that these figures, and indeed the landscape details themselves, seem almost incidental.

2 De Nittis's work actually premiered at the Salon of 1868 with the exhibition of a work in the costume-piece-à-la-dix-huitième-siècle genre made popular by fashionable artists such as Gérôme and Meissonnier.

3 Victor Cherbuliez, ‘Salon 1872,’ Revue des Deux Mondes (1872), cited in Vittorio Pica, Giuseppe de Nittis, Milan 1914, p. 86.

4 Victor Cherbuliez, ‘Lettres sur le salon,’ Le Temps (16 June 1872).

5 Paul Mantz, ‘Salon de 1872,’ Gazette des Beaux-Arts 6 (July 1872), p. 48.

6 Jules Claretie, L'art et les artistes français contemporains, Paris 1876, p. 406: ‘Chaque année, dès lors [1872], M. de Nittis allait attirer et retenir l'attention, si puissement éveillée, de la critique.’ See also Louis Gonse, ‘Salon de 1874,’ Gazette des Beaux-Arts 10 (July 1874), p. 41. Italian critics, too, considered this work ‘il punto di partenza della fama del de Nittis’; see Jacopo Caponi, La vita a Parigi di Folchetto, 2 vols., Milan 1886, vol. 1, p. 150.

7 De Nittis's ability to explore new territory while simultaneously remaining respectful of a more traditional aesthetic was frequently commented upon in the French press: see Ary Renan, ‘Joseph de Nittis,’ Gazette des Beaux-Arts 30 (November 1884), pp. 395-406 and Paul Mantz, Exposition J. de Nittis, Paris (Galerie Berheim-Jeune) 1886.

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De Nittis's early spatial investigations (manifest in a number of other works from the late 1860s) soon influenced both his Italian compatriots and fellow French artists. Their impact on Gustave Caillebotte, for example, can be seen in his Route to Naples (fig. 3), painted while working side by side with de Nittis in southern Italy. In Caillebotte's painting an abandoned horse and buggy are placed along a quiet road (opposite in orientation from that of the de Nittis), which moves backwards into space. The pace of the recession is so fast that the picture's central objects seem almost plastered against the mountain behind. Although obviously meant to be in the far distance, the motion assigned to the road prevents them from occupying correct proportional scale.

Kirk Varnedoe has suggested that artists like Caillebotte and de Nittis were naturally attracted to such spatial constructions in their search for new ways of putting our three-dimensional world onto a two-dimensional canvas: ‘In the 1870s, when deep space began progressively to be annulled in painting, and a way beyond naturalism was sought, it is understandable that a new detachment from standard perspective [...] would have led to similar exploration of the peripheral, abnormal possibilities of spatial construction.’⁸ The altered space of Caillebotte's later paintings, including the famous Paris street: rainy day (The Art Institute of Chicago) and The Pont de l'Europe (Geneva, Musée de Petit Palais), demonstrate that the research conducted alongside de Nittis early in his career continued to affect his mature work.⁹

Caillebotte was not the only artist to be inspired by de Nittis. In 1875, while working for Goupil & Cie., Vincent van Gogh was exposed to several of the artist's pictures.¹⁰ Van Gogh's fascination with de Nittis's use of space is evidenced in the corner of a letter to his brother Theo: a thumbnail sketch (fig. 4) of the Italian's Victoria Embankment (fig. 1). While the older artist indicates diminishing perspective via a line of trees marching back into space at measured intervals, Van Gogh exaggerates and hastens the recession by arranging his small, vertical marks at even closer intervals.¹¹

Van Gogh's interest in de Nittis's use of perspective also appears in his later works. In his 1887 Parisian cityscape The Boulevard de Clichy (Amsterdam, Van Gogh Museum), Van Gogh gives us a wide, sweeping central area with a tree-lined boulevard branching off to the left. The

fig. 2
Giuseppe de Nittis, The road from Bridisi to Barletta, c. 1872, Italy, private collection

fig. 3
Gustave Caillebotte, Route to Naples, c. 1872, Paris, private collection

recession of the street is accelerated by the rhythm of the spindly, leafless trees, the light standards, and the vertically-thrusting façades of the surrounding buildings.¹²

8 Kirk Varnedoe, exhib. cat. Gustave Caillebotte: a retrospective exhibition, Houston (Museum of Fine Arts) 1976, p. 24.

9 For further discussion of the parallels between these two artists see Kirk Varnedoe, Caillebotte, New Haven 1987, pp. 188-89.

10 De Nittis was under contract to Goupil at this date; see Caroline Goldberg [Igra], Giuseppe de Nittis: an Italian perspective on the Parisian cityscape (diss., New York University, 1995), p. 52.

11 J.G. Van Gelder, ‘Vincent van Gogh and de Nittis,’ Vincent 3 (1974), no. 3, p. 7. Leo Jansen has suggested (correspondence of 23 December 1998) that Van Gelder was mistaken in his assertion that Van Gogh is here referring to de Nittis's Veduta di Londra. He suggests that the clearly different orientation of the river in Van Gogh's sketch indicates the influence of a different de Nittis painting. In fact, de Nittis did execute a series of works in the area of the Thames with the same wide-open perspective sketched by Van Gogh. Nevertheless, the inclusion of the line of trees along the banks, so determining in both artists' explorations of space, and the clear evidence that Veduta di Londra was then in Goupil's possession, strongly suggests that it must have been at least partially responsible for Van Gogh's rendering. Jansen's comments, however, raise the possibility that Van Gogh's sketch was based on a composite understanding of several of de Nittis's views.

12 Van Gogh might also have been influenced by Meindert Hobbema's The alley at Middelharnis (1689), already in the collection of the National Gallery in London by the early 1870s. This work certainly inspired Monet and Pissarro; the latter's Avenue de Syndeham (London, National Gallery) of 1871 explicitly refers to the perspective construction found in Hobbema's work.

Cityscapes and Parisian monuments

De Nittis's influence on landscape painting was already noted at the time by Paul Mantz. He considered The road from Brindisi to Barletta to have been extremely important for the independent artists just then in the process of creating their own stylistic idiom, writing that it ‘had greatly served impressionism, becoming for many seekers the point of departure for studies which continue today.’¹³ De Nittis's role in the development of contemporary art was still further compounded, however, by his interest in the Parisian cityscape. Significantly, his entry into this field

13 Cited in Sophia Monneret, L'impressionisme et son époque, 2 vols., Paris 1978, vol. 1, p. 175: ‘[...] a beaucoup servi l'impressionisme en étant devenue pour quelques chercheurs le point de départ d'une étude qui dure encore.’

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dates to that brief period when French avant-garde artists were also exploring this genre. De Nittis's specific urban iconography worked upon his contemporaries in various ways.

De Nittis's cityscapes can be divided almost equally between those depicting Paris's major monuments and those illustrating the social playgrounds of its inhabitants - parks, racecourses and the fashionable boulevards. Those in the first category include such distinguished structures as the Palais des Tuileries, the Institut de France, the Ecole Militaire, the Invalides, the Opéra and the Arc de Triomphe. The significance of these monuments and public buildings in the Second Empire was emphasised by their placement within the physical reorganisation of the city carried out by Baron Haussmann and Napoleon III in the 1850s and 60s.¹⁴ In this plan, monuments were set apart in order to accentuate their function as memorials to the nation's greatness - either historical, military, cultural or artistic. Removed from shadowy sites and arranged as centrepieces within large, open circles, they became embodiments of the ‘glories of the French past and her modern destiny,’¹⁵ overwhelming and impressing both foreigner and native alike.

In accordance with Haussmann and Napoleon III's designs, many of de Nittis's cityscapes dramatically isolate a specific structure from its surroundings. In The Pont des Arts (fig. 5), for example, the Institut's ‘monumental’ character is underlined not only by its central placement and dominating size, but also by the space in which it is situated. It is viewed from a great distance, set back from the foreground, and strikingly preceded by a long path (the bridge itself). This

fig. 4
Vincent van Gogh, sketch in a letter to Theo van Gogh, 24 July 1875 [39/32], Amsterdam, Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)

path, which connects the fore- and backgrounds planes, narrows sharply as it recedes, resulting in a thrusting perspective reminiscent of The road from Brindisi to Barletta.

This manipulation of perspective, in the form of elongation and extension, pulls the viewer's eye into depth at a stunning speed, accentuating the sense of relief and excitement

14 The part played by the city's statues, buildings and other structures in establishing Paris's reputation was already commented on by Alphonse Esquinos in the 1840s. He insisted that rather than being revealed through its museums and academic institutions, it was these physical monuments that pointed ‘to the history of the nation and beyond that to the progress of the world’; see Andrew Lees, Cities perceived: urban society in European and American thought, 1820-1940, New York 1985, p. 79.

15 Sylvie Gache-Patin, ‘The urban landscape,’ in Richard Brettell (ed.), exhib. cat. A day in the country, Los Angeles (Los Angeles Country Museum) 1984, p. 110.

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fig. 5
Giuseppe de Nittis, The Pont des Arts, c. 1875, Crema, P. Stramezzi collection

at finally reaching the great monument. A cityscape aimed at merely documenting the building's appearance and setting might have depicted it from closer by, diminishing the area in front. De Nittis's emphasis on the foreground demonstrates his intention to move well beyond mere topography. The (over)dramatisation of the path leading up to it suggests his genuine admiration for the magnitude of the structure and, furthermore, his faith in its symbolic significance.

The same sentiments are evident in de Nittis's focus on a monument of great importance to the post-Commune period, seen in his Place des Pyramides of 1876 (fig. 6): the Tuileries Palace, burned by the Communards in 1871. De Nittis's decision to include both a pavilion of the palace - covered in scaffolding to indicate reconstruction - and a statue of Joan of Arc - symbol of a triumphant France - has obvious political implications. With this single painting, the Italian expatriate expressed his supreme confidence in the rehabilitation of the nation under the Third Republic.¹⁶

fig. 6
Giuseppe de Nittis, Place des Pyramides, 1876, Paris, Musée d'Orsay

De Nittis's images of Parisian monuments stand in stark contrast to the work of the French avant-garde, who generally shunned such obvious subjects and almost always excluded identifiable structures. In Monet's View of the Tuileries gardens (Paris, Musée Marmottan), for example, the artist managed to paint a very central area of the city while still confining its strongest element - the burned out Tuileries Palace - to a slim border at the very edge of the canvas. This is not to suggest, however, that his works had no effect on the impressionists. Indeed, although the avant-garde usually turned its back on monumental Paris - seeking to capture the city in its essence rather than its particulars - there are examples in which identifiable locations were purposefully chosen in order to concretise an impressionistic rendering. One of these is Degas's Place de la Concorde of 1875 (St Petersburg, Hermitage Museum). Here the French artist focuses on a location much populated by the Parisian bourgeoisie. The site echos that of de Nittis's own Place de la Concorde after the rain (Istanbul, Governor's Palace), exhibited earlier that year at the Salon.¹⁷ Although Degas's work

16 See Caroline Igra, ‘Images of destruction and reconstruction: Giuseppe de Nittis's forthright approach to post-Commune Paris,’ Konsthistorisk Tidskrift 67 (1998), pp. 157-73. For an in depth discussion of the role of the nationalistic patriotism of the years following the Franco-Prussian War and Paris Commune and de Nittis's treatment of Parisian monuments see Caroline Igra, ‘Monuments to prior glory: the foreign perspective on post-Commune Paris,’ Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 62 (1999), pp. 512-26.

17 See Jean Boggs, Portraits by Degas, Berkeley 1962, p. 93. fn. 16.

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concentrates on the local inhabitants - a fundamental difference in approach - the French artist verbally acknowledged de Nittis's influential role: ‘What is certain [...] is the part he played as an inventor in the world of those painters who describe the streets and Paris in general.’¹⁸

18 Letter from Degas to Mme de Nittis, 21 May 1877; quoted in Piero Dini and Giuseppe Luigi Marini, De Nittis, 2 vols., Turin 1990, vol. 1, p. 326: ‘Ce qu'il y a de net [...] c'est l'attitude qu'il a prise d'inventeur dans le monde de peintres qui font des rues et du Paris en général.’ Degas is here writing in reference to de Nittis's Paris seen from the Pont Royal (present location unknown), exhibited in 1877.

Images of the Parisian populace

De Nittis's interest in depicting the Parisian public, like his fascination with the city's topography, originated not only from a genuine artistic inclination but also from an intense desire to assimilate into French society.¹⁹ Accordingly, his personal and professional moves were carefully calculated to achieve this goal.²⁰

Early in his Parisian career, de Nittis realised that no matter how well he situated himself and his family within Parisian society, his best chance of winning its affection would be to make it the centrepiece of his oeuvre. For the most part abandoning his earlier interest in pleinair painting and monumental cityscapes, by the late-1870s de Nittis began to focus on scenes of the Parisian populace engaged in its most typical bourgeois activities.

In an effort to understand the tastes and habits of the period, de Nittis devoted much of his time to wandering through the city's fashionable areas, such as the Champs-Elysées. This avenue had been the most popular parade ground for the city's socially prominent since the Second Empire.²¹ De Nittis's awareness of its importance in Parisian daily life is clearly indicated in his diary: ‘Passing along the Champs-Elysées I have further proof of the cheerful bonhomie that is so typical of the French.’²²

Both natives and foreigners understood the significance of this avenue as a symbol rather than as a mere thoroughfare,²³ and it is therefore not surprising to find it featured in several of de Nittis's works. In The Avenue du Bois with the Arc de Triomphe (fig. 7), for example, a group of people are depicted clustered under the chestnut trees at a sidewalk café just down from the monumental arch. Henry Houssaye was particularly impressed with the way this painting seemed to capture a real moment in everyday Parisian life: ‘Here, in a painting entitled Under the chestnut trees, the circle at the Arc de Triomphe is seen in the light of a beautiful summer's day. On the chairs along the sidewalk we see women showing off their bright outfits, which sparkle in the sun; the carriages file past along the road in front of Rude's bas-relief. It is a reminiscence of the via appia, with a sensation of luminous light penetrating and warming you.’²⁴

19 De Nittis's desire for assimilation is explored in the author's article ‘Italian artists in Paris in the late 19th century: the establishment of the Polenta,’ Storia dell'Arte, forthcoming 2000.

20 In this context we may again recall the Italian artist's relationship with Gustave Caillebotte. The connection between these painters in the public eye - based on their common interest in hurdling spatial constructions and the Parisian cityscape - dates to the early 1870s. Significantly, Léon de Lora mentioned de Nittis in his criticism of Caillebotte's work at the impressionist exhibition of 1877; see Léon de Lora, ‘L'exposition des impressionistes,’ Le Gaulois (10 April 1877). However, the affinities between the two went beyond their work. They became close friends soon after de Nittis's arrival in Paris, and Caillebotte was a frequent guest at de Nittis's homes in Naples and Barletta, even becoming godfather to Giuseppe's son Jacques in 1872. The close and continuous contact between them is revealed in the anecdotes recorded in the Taccuino; see Giuseppe de Nittis, Taccuino, 1870-1884, Bari 1964, p. 138. Of further significance, both men were members of the upper class who, through the practice of art, delved into ‘Bohemian’ territory. Although acquainted with a number of artists who had chosen to branch off independently, de Nittis sought to solidify ties only with those from a more aristocratic background. Caillebotte fit this profile: he was a perfect example of how one could exhibit and associate with the ‘fringe’ while still maintaining one's bourgeois social standing; see Goldberg [Igra], op. cit. (note 10), p. 78.

21 An 1878 issue of L'Univers Illustré noted the great popularity of ‘les Tuileries, la place de la Concorde, les Champs-Elysées, l'avenue du Bois de Boulogne et le Bois lui-même,’ which had rapidly increased over the past two decades; see ‘Courrier de Paris,’ L'Univers Illustré (6 July 1878).

22 De Nittis, op. cit. (note 20), p. 145: ‘Passando peri Champs-Elysées ho un'altra prova di quell'allegra bonomia che è tipica dei francesi.’

23 As de Moncan and Mahout write, the Champs-Elysées ‘n'est plus alors une promenade, c'est un symbole. La démocratie coule à pleins bords, et toute cette foule qui marche d'un pas égal semble s'avancer vers un avenir inconnu’; see Patrice de Moncan and Christian Mahout, Le Paris du Baron Haussmann, Paris 1991, p. 94.

24 Henry Houssaye, ‘L'art en dehors du Salon,’ L'Artiste (May 1880), p. 381: ‘Voilà bien, dans le tableau qui a pour titre Sous les marronniers, ce rond-point de l'Arc de Triomphe vu dans l'éclat d'une belle journée d'été. Sur les chaises des contre-allées, les femmes étalent leurs claires toilettes, que fait miroiter le soleil; les équipages défilent en bon ordre sur la chaussée, devant le bas-relief de Rude. Une réminiscence de la via appia, une sensation de luxe lumineux vous pénètre et vous réchauffe.’

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fig.7
Giuseppe de Nittis, The Avenue du Bois with the Arc du Triomphe, 1880, Milan, private collection

The accuracy of de Nittis's depiction of Parisians acting out their own mini-dramas under the distant shadow of the Arc de Triomphe makes it an almost literal pictorialisation of the social commentaries written by foreign visitors of the time. It closely echos the observations of Augustus Hare, who wrote: ‘To a foreigner, half an hour spent on the boulevards [...] has the effect of an infinitely diverting theatrical performance.’²⁵

It is not surprising to note that Jean Béraud, another Parisian artist interested in painting modern genre scenes, also chose the Champs-Elysées as a focus of his work. In The Avenue des Champs-Elysées (USA, private collection) we find a similar interest in directing our attention to the life of the French bourgeoisie in their characteristic social milieu. Here, the central subject - ‘la femme Parisienne’ - completely fills the left half of the canvas, while the avenue behind (her ‘playground’) awaits her arrival.²⁶

Of course, the Champs-Elysées was not the only stylish neighbourhood in Paris. Following the expansion of the city's limits under Haussmann, districts formerly considered somewhat remote came to assume a more prominent place in Parisian daily life.²⁷ One such location was the Bois de Boulogne. Between 1852 and 1858 the Bois was transformed into a public park, offering an assortment of enticing recreational activities intended to attract the flourishing middle classes.²⁸ Bent on depicting Parisians in their ‘natural environment,’ de Nittis understandably turned to the excellent material on offer here. His oeuvre includes many promenading scenes, as well as several focusing on the popular activity of horseracing.²⁹

Horseracing had burgeoned under the Second Empire. Longchamp and Auteuil became centres of fashion, where crowds of people gathered to see and be seen - and sometimes to actually watch the races.³⁰ De Nittis's profound understanding of the major role of the racecourse in Parisian social life can be seen in his large triptych The racecourse at Auteuil, exhibited in 1881 at the Cercle de l'Union Artistique (fig. 8). In the left-hand panel we find a woman standing on a chair in order to better see

25 Augustus J.C. Hare, Paris, London 1887, p. 5, cited in Donald J. Olsen, The city as a work of art, New Haven 1986, p. 217. For similar sentiments see Anthony North Peat, Gossip from Paris during the Second Empire: correspondence, 1864-1869, London 1903, p. 79.

26 De Nittis's cityscapes were extremely significant to modern genre artists, particularly those with a foreign background. Examples include Jean Béraud and Albert Benois from St Petersburg; Luigi Loir from Austria; de Molins from Switzerland; and Boldini, Marchetti and Signorelli from Italy. See exhib. cat. The Belle Epoque: fashionable life in Paris, London and New York, 1870-1914, New York (Stair Gallery) 1981, p. 3. Boldini is particularly notable as he worked in Paris at the very same time as de Nittis, and briefly dabbled in cityscape. His Place de Clichy (Valdagno, Marzatto Collection) offers further indication of de Nittis's influence; both its theme - a well-known Parisian neighbourhood - and style - incorporating an altered type of perspective almost panoramic in nature - strongly recall the latter's work. The works of many of these immigrants highlight the city's buildings and streets, using a scrupulous technique. Another instance is Béraud's The boulevard: evening in front of the Théâtre des variétès (Paris, Musée Carnavalet), in which the artist not only chose a well-known and popular location, but also enlivened it with depictions of the kind of Parisians typically found there. The result is a striking illustration of contemporary life: a genre scene par excellence. It is not suprising that this type of picture was attractive to foreign artists like de Nittis, particularly when one considers its great appeal to art collectors and dealers; see below.

27 The renovation of these areas and the establishment of social activities within them was part of the French government's overall effort to overcome the horrors of 1870-71; see Robert L. Herbert, Impressionism, New Haven 1988, p. 305.

28 Several periodicals, such as Le Monde Illustré, documented the activities at the Bois, and most contemporaries confirmed both its essential role in city life and the ‘elevated’ status of those who used it. Alfred Delvau, for example, noted that the Bois was ‘The privileged promenade of a good half of Paris, the richest half, of course’; see his Plaisirs de Paris, Paris 1867, p. 31. Zola also described the Bois's part in (upper) middle-class social life and the way one's presence there was interpreted as a reflection of one's social standing; see Herbert, op. cit. (note 27), p. 146.

29 See Mark Girouard, Cities and people, New Haven 1985, p. 291.

30 See Theodore Reff, Manet and modern Paris, Chicago 1982, p. 129. The importance of the racecourse in haute bourgeois leisure life is demonstrated by its prominent place in contemporary literature and art. One artistic example is provided by Manet's inclusion of Longchamp in his suite of paintings devoted to civic themes in contemporary Paris, planned for the Hôtel de Ville.

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fig. 8
Giuseppe de Nittis, The racecourse at Auteuil, 1881, Rome, Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna

what is happening on the turf; she is accompanied by a man gazing in the same direction. In the central panel, a small group of people has gathered around a wooden stove filled with hot coals; they are completely immersed in their own conversations and in trying to get warm, and are totally oblivious to the nearby race. Finally, in the right-hand panel we get a glimpse of the track itself, seen from the spectator's viewing box. The woman with binoculars serves to remind us of the ostensible reason for this basically social gathering.

Like any other form of entertainment, these races were as much distractions as attractions, and social convention did not demand constant attention to the main event. Accordingly, the attendees are depicted as engaged in their own spectacles, sometimes entirely ignorant of the official activity taking place before their eyes. Considering

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his professed devotion to depicting the Parisian populace, it is not surprising that de Nittis's interest in the observers superseded that in the horses and races themselves.³¹

A precedent for this particular focus on the spectators as well as the races is provided by the series Manet devoted to the subject in the 1860s.³² In works such as The racecourse at Longchamp (Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Art Museums) we are shown both the action along the sidelines and that of the contest itself. Manet, however, does not force our involvement with the crowd, while de Nittis does precisely that. First, he provides a far more energised and vital picture of what is going on in the stands, delineating details of both incident and description. Next, he physically inserts the viewer into the crowd of onlookers by positioning him beside the participants in the drama. For example, standing next to the left panel, the viewer is confronted with a mirror image of himself, depicted almost life size. By situating the viewer among the attendees in this way, the artist also asserts his own presence and position in the crowd, among those who defined Parisian society.

The reception of this triptych, as well as of the other works de Nittis produced on this theme, demonstrates the degree to which they were considered accurate portrayals of the daily life of the Parisian bourgeoisie. The critic for La Petite Republique Française wrote: ‘Paris! Never has an artist described the grand city with a more loving brush. No one has better understood the parisienne than this Italian. At Bernheim's, several of de Nittis's canvases show us the races from a variety of points of view. What movement! What teeming life! That's what it's really like!’³³ In eager agreement, Mantz remarked that in these works de Nittis had captured Parisian society better than any other artist: ‘Never has the picturesque grace of the great city and the physiognomy of its people been so well written, so finely recounted.’³⁴

31 De Nittis's lack of interest in the ‘main attraction’ is indicated in his memoirs. In a passage concerning Derby Day in London in 1876, he reflects primarily on the pretty women in attendance, and shows ambivalence toward the races themselves, off-handedly commenting: ‘Non starò a descriversi il Derby, perché son tutti eguali, è il giorno che vede in festa tutta l'Inghilterra’; see de Nittis, op. cit. (note 20), p. 124.

32 See Jean Harris, ‘Manet's racetrack paintings,’ Art Bulletin 48 (March 1966), p. 79.

33 See ‘Bonvin-Nittis,’ La Petite Republique Française (12 May 1886): ‘Paris! Jamais un artiste n'a décrit la grande ville d'un pinceau plus amoureux. Personne n'a mieux compris la Parisienne que cet Italien. Chez Bernheim, plusieurs toiles de Nittis nous montrent les courses sous leurs divers aspects. Quel mouvement! quelle vie grouillante! Comme c'est ça!’

34 Mantz, Exposition, cit. (note 7), p. 11: ‘Jamais la gräce pittoresque de la grand ville et la physiognomie des gens qui s'y condoient n'ont été aussi bien écrites, aussi finement racontées.’ The success of these images as documents was also pointed out in the obituary that appeared in L'Univers Illustré, in which the author claimed that, like de Nittis's other imagery, ‘ses pastels de courses [...] resteront un des plus curieux documents de notre époque’; see ‘M. de Nittis,’ L'Univers Illustré (30 August 1884).

The art market and French society

The way in which these cityscape genre scenes appeared to accurately portray the middle classes going about ‘socially-correct’ activities made them extraordinarily popular in the art market. The buying public was eager for images in which they could see themselves, and their grand lifestyle, reflected. To meet the growing demand, a large body of work depicting members of the fashionable elite amusing themselves on Paris's stylish byways emerged.³⁵

De Nittis was not alone in his attentiveness to this audience. Indeed, many avant-garde artists catered to it as well, indicating the determining role financial pressure plays on artistic choice. Renoir's Morning ride in the Bois de Boulogne (Hamburger Kunsthalle), for example, is the artist's conscious attempt to adopt a more ‘pleasing’ style. Two well-heeled individuals, outfitted in full riding gear, are shown enjoying a morning jaunt along the neat bridle paths of the Bois. Robert Herbert saw this image - so different from Renoir's other works at the time - as an effort to capitalise on the growing market for this type of picture, and as evidence of his desire to achieve greater social acceptance.³⁶

By the 1880s de Nittis, now accepted as an independent and accomplished artist, could begin to concentrate exclusively on producing those records of French society that would enable him to rub elbows with the Parisian elite. Sometime later, writing on a series of pastels the artist had executed for the Album de la Société des Aquafortistes, Jules Claretie commented: ‘He is the vibrant and elegant painter of modern existence, of all that is feverish, troubled, refined,

35 For the extensive literature concerning the artistic treatment of these subjects see Brettell, op. cit. (note 15); B. Grad and T. Riggs Worcester (eds.), exhib. cat. Visions of city and country, Worcester (Worcester Art Museum) 1982; and Reff, op. cit. (note 30), p. 24.

36 Herbert similarly suggests that Renoir painted Les grands boulevards (Philadelphia Museum of Art) in order ‘To find a client capable of buying the more elegant and permanent record of a famous street which an easel painting provides’; Herbert, op. cit. (note 27), pp. 15-16. Like many independent painters, Renoir was never satisified with his position outside of the official art world. Having achieved little success through his participation in the impressionist shows, he was one of the first to return to the Salon, and by 1880 he was exhibiting at both ‘official’ and ‘unofficial’ venues; see ibid., p. 149.

[p. 103]

of poetry flirted with and ignored, of the daily seductions in our life [...]. [P]ainters like de Nittis who are uniquely inspired by truth and their time are, in effect, bound to last: they give those who come after a testament to the life of the entire epoch, the life of today, modern life, and which tomorrow will be nothing but memory and history.’³⁷

De Nittis's appreciation of what the city offered him personally was integral to his ability to capture it as ‘experienced fact,’ as paint on canvas. As early as 1875, Claretie had insisted on the importance of De Nittis's particular fascination with his subject matter: ‘We speak [...] of the painters who understand the sentiments of modern life, [who depict the] simple and charming scenes which Paris offers us daily. This special feeling, no one possesses it to a greater degree than M. de Nittis. With his sunlit paintings come all the seductions of Parisian “high life,” the elegance of the Bois, the circuit of the Lac, the outfits -warm in winter, light dresses in summer. He is taken with our life, as a Parisian would be taken with a street in Constantinople or a lane in Naples.’³⁸

Through his cityscapes documenting the changing face of the city as it recovered from the Franco-Prussian War and the Commune in the 1870s, and his depictions of the activities along the boulevards and gentrified parks, Giuseppe de Nittis became the unofficial interpreter of Third Republic Paris. Already in 1874 Mantz had remarked: ‘these small paintings by M. de Nittis will become precious one day! They will be documents for our history [...]’³⁹ and some years later he proclaimed the painter ‘the spiritual historian of modern manners and the chronicler of stylishness.’⁴⁰

Examination of the formal and iconographic aspects of de Nittis's oeuvre alongside those of his artistic contemporaries suggests the significant role he played in the development of French cityscape painting. Whether as inspiration for the mainstream or for the avant-garde, the Italian's work reveals the modern city through its inhabitants - both foreign and native - and, equally, the way the artists' impressions were determined by their personal agendas.

37 Claretie, op. cit. (note 6), p. 416: ‘Il est le peintre vivant et élégant de l'existence moderne de tout ce qu'il y a de fiévreux, de troublé, de raffiné, de poesie coudoyée et ignorée, de séductions dans notre vie de tous les jours [...] les peintres qui s'inspirent uniquement de la vérité et de leur temps, comme de Nittis, sont certains, en effet, de durer: il léguent à ceux qui viendront le testament de la vie de toute une époque qui est la vie d'aujourd'hui, la vie moderne, et qui sera demain le souvenir et l'histoire.’

38 Ibid., p. 327: ‘Nous parlons tout à l'heure des peintres qui ont le sentiment de la vie moderne, des scènes toutes simples et toutes charmantes aussi que nous offre quotidiennement Paris. Le sentiment spèciel, nul ne le possède à un degré supérieur à M.J. de Nittis. Après ses tableaux ensoleillés toutes les séductions du high life parisien, les élégances du Bois, du tour de Lac, des toilettes, frileuses en hiver, des robes légères de l'été. Il a été frappé par notre vie à nous, comme un Parisien le serait par une rue de Constantinople ou un vicolo de Naples.’ See also his comments on p. 402.

39 Paul Mantz, ‘Le Salon,’ Le Temps (10 June 1874): ‘Combien ses petites peintures de M. de Nittis deviendront prècieuses un jour! Ce seront des documents pour notre histoire [...] l'historien spirituel des moeurs modernes et le chroniqueur des élégances.’

40 Mantz, Exposition, cit. (note 7), p. 5.