Anyone who picks up this book expecting a book-length exposé on Renoir’s relationship with one of his favorite models along with gossipy revelations about Suzanne’s Valadon’s life, are in for a bit of a disappointment. Yes, part of one chapter does explore in great depth that relationship, which proved to be an early pivotal moment in setting Suzanne Valadon on her artistic career path. And yes, the author, Catherine Hewitt, does address the gossip and rumors that swirled around Valadon’s relationships with many of the artists she modeled for. But those activities are really not the point of this book, as the title and cover may lead you to believe.
So what is the point of this book? It’s to provide a comprehensive, engaging, well-researched, scholarly study of Suzanne Valadon. It’s to elevate modern readers’ understanding and appreciation of an often-overlooked avant-garde artist who defied categorization, who stuck to her guns in representing the truth as she saw it, and who happened to be female.
Suzanne Valadon was in fact the first French female artist that came from the peasant class to earn a living creating fine art and become internationally renowned in the process (i.e., she was so much more than “Renoir’s dancer”). Yet, at the same time, she resisted being labeled a “female artist” and only sought the recognition that any male artist in her position would’ve so easily come by, as explained in this book.
By tracing the artist’s life from her family’s provincial beginnings, through her work as a model during one of the most exciting periods of French painting, her active engagement in and contributions to Montmartre’s bohemian culture, her relationships with both the French artworld’s elite and its more eccentric characters, her family relationships, and her own artistic explorations, this book provides a complete picture of Suzanne Valadon as a person and as an artist.
Hewitt explains the genesis and development of Valadon’s artistic output and offers insightful interpretations of individual works by adeptly placing them within their appropriate cultural, social, and biographical contexts. I commend the author for achieving, in my view, the perfect balance between background material (social history), biographical accounts of Valadon’s personal life, and discussions of the artworks, which never get tedious.
Though this book is quite scholarly (extensive source citations and bibliography are provided), there is never a dull moment, whether the author is describing Montmartre’s fin-de-siècle nightlife, Paris during wartime, or Valadon’s challenging relationship with her alcoholic son, the famous French painter Maurice Utrillo. Much of that is due to just how interesting a character Valadon was and the times she lived in were—all brought to life in this book’s pages.
I have to say without personally checking her source material, Hewitt’s treatment of her subject felt very honest, just as Valadon always strove to lay bare the truth of her artistic subjects—both of which make the dishonest title of this book even more striking.
I can certainly understand the publisher’s desire to reach a broader audience with such a sensationalistic title and attractive cover. Someone who picks this up hoping for juicy details about a famous Impressionist’s romantic affairs is in for a real treat and should enjoy this great read nonetheless. But as a society, aren’t we past diminishing or undermining a female artist’s accomplishments (in any industry) by emphasizing the role men played in getting her there? Or by defining her in terms of the more salacious (“secret life”) aspects of her existence? A cover worthy of the book’s contents and of the artist herself would have featured an artwork actually created by Valadon and positioned the artist’s name to the left side of the title’s colon.
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