Henri Rousseau

French painter

• Born: May 21, 1844
• Birthplace: Laval, France
• Died: September 2, 1910
• Place of death: Paris, France

Rousseau was the best known of the “naïve” artists of the late nineteenth century. His deceptively primitive paintings possessed a mysterious poetry that transcended their often banal subject matter and childlike technique to inspire such later artistic movements as Surrealism.

Early Life

When Henri-Julien-Félix Rousseau was born, his father, Julien, worked as a tinsmith and lived in Beuchheresse Gate, a remnant of the old fortified wall that had once surrounded the French town of Laval. Never financially well off, Julien had debts that grew to be so overwhelming that his creditors seized his house when Henri was only seven years old. The Rousseau family then left Laval, leaving young Henri as a boarder at the local school. He proved to be a below-average student but did win several medals for art and singing.

Rousseau left school when he was fifteen and obtained a job in a lawyer’s office in Angers, where he worked for three years before signing up for a seven-year tour in the army in 1863. He later claimed that he had served with French forces in Mexico, but this seems to have been the product of his desire to promote himself rather than a historical fact. Rousseau married a young woman named Clémence from Saint-Germain-en-Laye in 1869 while still in the army, and the young couple settled in Paris after his discharge from the service in 1871. Although he initially resumed his premilitary occupation as a law clerk, Rousseau soon managed to obtain a position manning one of the toll booths that marked the entry into Paris. His nickname, le douanier (the customs collector), derived from this job with the Paris Municipal Toll Service.

Although Rousseau settled comfortably into his role as a minor functionary, his personal life contained a great deal of tragedy. Clémence bore nine children in rapid succession, but only one, a daughter named Julia, survived to adulthood. Seven of their other children died in infancy, and one son lived to be eighteen. Clémence died giving birth to the last of these ill-fated children. Rousseau would never marry again, although he would pursue a number of women throughout the rest of his life and unsuccessfully propose to many of them.

Rousseau later claimed that it was his lack of financial security that forced him to take the position as a toll booth collector and temporarily forsake his love of art. However, his undemanding job did provide him with ample time to pursue his hobby, and he frequently took time off work to paint. As he practiced, he grew increasingly confident in his talent and began thinking of making painting his full-time vocation. The death of Clémence appears to have pushed him to make his decision. Shortly after her death, he retired from the customs service in 1885, sent his two surviving children to live with relatives in Angers, and devoted himself exclusively to his art.

Life’s Work

Rousseau marked his entry as a professional artist by exhibiting a number of his paintings at the official Salon des Artistes Français in 1885. He considered himself an “academic” painter at the time and had received advice and encouragement from two fairly prominent painters of this school, Gérôme and Félix Clément. However, his work received a hostile reception at the salon. Spectators slashed two of his paintings with knives, and the judges had all of his works removed from the exhibition and declared that they were not up to the standards of the salon.

Most artists would have given up in the face of such universal condemnation of their work. However, if this hostile reception bothered Rousseau, he gave no indication in public. He did abandon his goal to exhibit at the official salon and instead began to show his work at the newly created Salon des Indépendants, an annual art exhibit that showcased the work of new artists. The new salon did not have a jury, so nearly all who wanted to exhibit their work were free to do so without fear of rejection. Rousseau took advantage of this “open door” policy and exhibited four of his paintings at the 1886 session of the Salon des Indépendants. Even though the public and critics still ignored his work, he sincerely believed that he was part of the artistic community since he had now shown his paintings in a public exhibit.

Rousseau’s difficulty in gaining recognition for his work stemmed from the fact that it was difficult to ascertain what he was trying to do. Although he claimed to be a painter in the classic academic style, his work did not adhere at all to the standards of this school. His paintings often demonstrated a childlike technique that included glaring disproportions in perspective and exaggerated characterizations. His subject matter was often banal, drawn frequently from book and catalog illustrations that attracted his eye. He often portrayed human characters in stiff, unnatural poses and simplified their facial expressions in an almost cartoonish manner. Even more disturbing for many of his contemporaries was the fact that it was never clear whether Rousseau’s technique represented an intentional distortion of reality or merely reflected a severely limited talent.

Rousseau did not appear to have been upset by the criticism leveled at his work. Even though critics accused him of “painting with his feet” and viciously attacked every new painting that he presented at the annual shows of the Salon des Indépendants, he continued to remain completely oblivious to their barbs. Many scholars agree that his immunity to criticism was the product of his naïve personality and have claimed that he frequently mistook sarcastic comments as praise.

The founders of the avant-garde movement in France, notably the playwright Alfred Jarry and the journalistGuillaume Apollinaire, took Rousseau under their wing and promoted his work. It was through their efforts that Rousseau met such innovative contemporary artists as Pablo Picasso, Paul Gauguin, and Camille Pissarro—all of whom admired aspects of his work. This acceptance by a segment of the avant-garde community buttressed Rousseau’s own estimation of his work, but it brought him little financial success. His entry into this bohemian community also proved to be a mixed blessing. Many of his new “friends” exploited his childlike naïveté to pull a series of pranks on him. For example, Gauguin once told Rousseau that he had been awarded a government commission for a painting.

Rousseau believed that story without question and promptly went to the Ministry of Fine Arts to receive his money and instructions. On another occasion, one of his friends sent him a phony letter from the president of France inviting him to dinner. Rousseau blithely went to the president’s mansion at the appointed day and time, only to be turned away at the door. Rousseau would later claim that the invitation had been real but that he had forgotten to wear formal attire and had been asked to come back another day.

These pranks never caused Rousseau to reject his new friends. In fact, beginning in 1907, he began to hold “soirées familiales et artistiques”—parties to which he invited everyone whom he knew. These parties became celebrated events on the Left Bank in Paris and regularly attracted a large number of artists and intellectuals, including Georges Braque and Picasso. At the same time, Rousseau’s reputation as a painter began to improve, thanks primarily to the efforts of Apollinaire, who tirelessly championed his work.

Certain critics began to identify Rousseau with the fauvist movement (which also included Henri Matisse and Braque), and the young painters of this school also accepted Rousseau as one of their own. In fact, when a collection of fauvist paintings was organized for the 1905 Salon d’Automne, Rousseau’s The Hungry Lion (1905) was accorded a place of honor next to the work of Matisse, Braque, Georges Roualt, and Raoul Dufy. This acceptance was highlighted by a huge banquet given by Picasso in Rousseau’s honor in 1908. Although this event was partially put on in jest, it nonetheless reflected the warm feelings that the Parisian artistic community held for the eccentric and guileless le douanier.

Despite a growing appreciation of his work in certain sophisticated quarters, Rousseau still faced a great deal of scorn from mainstream critics and the general public during the last years of his life and found it difficult to support himself through his art. When he died in 1910 from blood poisoning, he was buried in a pauper’s grave in Paris. One year later, painter Robert Delaunay and Rousseau’s former landlord collected enough money from Rousseau’s former acquaintances to buy him a regular cemetery plot and a small tombstone. In 1924, his remains and tombstone were moved to the Parc de la Perrin in Laval.

Significance

After Rousseau’s death, critics and the public alike finally realized the value of his work. His use of color, his attention to detail, and his unusual renderings of often banal subjects revealed a fresh artistic vision that is often stunning in its impact on the viewer. One is struck by the innocence and enthusiasm in his work, characteristics that would later gain the admiration of the Surrealists and expressionists.

In Rousseau’s most famous paintings, such as The Dream (1910), The Sleeping Gypsy (1897), The Football Players (1908), and Carnival Evening (1886), an aura of mystery and wonder pervades the canvas, challenging the viewers’ sense of reality and forcing them to acknowledge Rousseau’s alternative interpretation of the world. Henri Rousseau viewed the world around him in a very original way, and his art, which embodied his unique view, still impresses viewers with its combination of simplicity, drama, and insight. His artistic legacy has outlasted the criticisms of his numerous contemporary detractors and continues to inspire generation after generation of painters. Rousseau always knew that he was a talented painter; it has just taken the rest of the world a little time to catch up with him.

Bibliography

Adriani, Götz. Henri Rousseau. Translated by Scott Kleager and Jenny Marsh. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2001. This book accompanied an exhibit of Rousseau’s work at the Kuntshalle Tübingen in Tübingen, Germany. Götz, director of the Kuntshalle Tübingen, provides an introductory essay discussing Rousseau’s life in Paris, his method of painting, and the critical reception of his work. Götz also analyzes the fifty-nine paintings featured in the exhibit and other paintings by Rousseau. Contains full-color reproductions of the fifty-nine paintings and photographs of Rousseau, his friends, and acquaintances.

Alley, Ronald. Portrait of a Primitive: The Art of Henri Rousseau. New York: Dutton, 1978. Alley provides a straightforward narrative of the life and work of Rousseau that emphasizes his contribution to the primitive art movement of the twentieth century.

Ehrlich, Doreen. Henri Rousseau. New York: Smithmark, 1995. This work stresses that Rousseau’s work had an important influence on future generations of artists despite his nonacceptance by the art establishment during his lifetime.

Keay, Carolyn. Henri Rousseau, le douanier. New York: Rizzoli, 1976. This book is short on biographical details, concentrating instead on a thorough examination of Rousseau’s paintings and future influence.

Rich, Daniel. Henri Rousseau. New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1946. This is the first book in English to recognize the importance of Rousseau’s work in shaping subsequent artistic movements in the twentieth century.

Schmalenbach, Werner. Henri Rousseau: Dreams of the Jungle. New York: International Book Import Service, 1998. Schmalenbach examines the jungle paintings that Rousseau produced late in his career and investigates the issue of their inspiration and influence.

Shattuck, Roger. The Banquet Years: The Origins of the Avant-Garde in France, 1885 to World War I. New York: Vintage Books, 1968. Shattuck argues that Rousseau, along with Guillaume Apollinaire, Erik Satie, and Alfred Jarry, personified the modernist movement in France during the late nineteenth century.

Vallier, Dora. Henri Rousseau. New York: Crown, 1979. This book offers a comprehensive analysis of Rousseau’s painting. The text draws heavily on the artist’s own writings about his work.