Original subtitles

Some of the most iconic artists in history have made their mark not by mastering technique or

demonstrating expertise and skill, but instead by showing us a new way to see the world. They

find new ways to capture old truths. Paul Cezanne was one of those artists. By looking at apples and

walking around his hometown with a grumpy and stubborn approach, rough, unfinished, and hasty,

his art opened up a new way of thinking and a new way of looking. Cezanne is going to be the first

artist we profile in depth, because more than anyone else, all of post-impressionism hinges on

Cezanne and his idiosyncratic way of seeing the world. Cezanne was often crude and deliberate as

the brushstrokes on his canvas. Innovative and brilliant, yet also stubborn, and plagued by

intense frustration, anxiety, awkwardness, and isolation. Yet these feelings and shortcomings

are likely what propelled him to so doggedly pursue his unique and unapologetic vision of the world.

Cezanne saw his art as a bridge between the natural world and the world of his mind. Each of his works

brought him ever slightly closer to that synthesis, which he never seemed to quite arrive at, yet he

never gave up trying and reaching either. He pursued this goal until it literally killed him. Caught in

a storm while plein air painting, Cezanne died subsequently from pneumonia. Cezanne was born on

the 19th of January in 1839 in Aix-en-Provence, in the south of France. It was a provincial town that

had rejected the railway and preferred to keep to itself. It's probably safe to say that every artist's

birthplace contributes in some way to their development as an artist. The community, culture,

landscape, and heritage in which they are born is woven into an artist's psyche from their earliest

days. But for Cezanne, his birthplace would prove to be the most important, pivotal, and central theme

in his work. All of his later ideas and paintings seem to be in support of his vision of this rural

region of southern France. Paul Cezanne's father, Louis-Auguste Cezanne, was 40 years old at the time

of Paul's birth. Louis-Auguste would eventually become the co-founder of the successful Banque Cezanne

et Cabasol, but at the time of Paul's birth, he's selling felt hats. Paul's mother, Anne Elizabeth,

was much younger at 24. Paul's sister Marie was born two years later. And then they had a little

surprise, perhaps, because 13 years later, the youngest daughter, Rose, was born. Side note,

Louis-Auguste and Anne Elizabeth didn't get married until Paul was five years old, meaning

young Cezanne was born out of wedlock. So perhaps they weren't as traditional as your usual 19th-century

Provençal couple. Young Cezanne starts boarding school at the age of 11, and then in 1852,

at the age of 13, he attends the local college Bourbon in Aix. It's here where he develops a very close

relationship with two friends that will become the emotional, intellectual, and inspirational

foundation of his life and career as an artist. Emile Zola and Baptiste Bale. Together with Cezanne,

they were known as Les Trois Inseparables, or the Inseparable Three. An artist, a poet, and a scientist.

They did everything together. They would go exploring and hiking, swim in the river together,

read poetry to each other, and share their hopes and dreams. Cezanne was always nostalgic for these

formative years, and they would serve as inspiration for his most ambitious artworks towards the end of

his life. Zola also wrote fondly about these early years together. Cezanne was bigger and stronger than

the other boys and protected Zola from the bullies, and this act of kindness sealed their friendship.

Given how famous they would become as artist and author, respectively, much has been written about

their friendship over the years. Paul said his youth with his friends was the only happy time in his

life. A bit dramatic, perhaps? We'll see. In his most groundbreaking work, Cezanne sought to depict

a reality in his art that was deeper than what we saw on the surface. You can see elements of Zola's

ideas as he tried to grasp onto an underlying structure, and I think trying to discover what

this world was really made of. Cezanne's relationship with Emile Zola often overshadows the influence of

his other great friend, Baptiste Bale, and his study of optical science and binocular or stereo vision.

Bale's work had a huge impact on how Cezanne thought about the way the eyes and the brain construct

our image of reality, giving him scientific insight about his hunches that the world is not only what

it appears to be on the surface. Bale helped Cezanne see that the natural world was holding secrets that

we were only just beginning to access through new scientific data and discoveries.

When we discuss his still life and landscapes, we can see the direct way this knowledge of optics

altered the way Cezanne understood and constructed the world. When Cezanne is 19, his friend Emile

Zola leaves for Paris, and Cezanne, feeling lonely and depressed, enrolls in the free local drawing

school in Aix. He definitely wasn't receiving any encouragement from his father to pursue a frivolous

hobby like drawing or painting, but his best friends urged him to pursue his passion despite his dad's

disapproval. Zola was begging him to come to Paris, telling him how beautiful and exciting and romantic it

was. But that dream would have seemed impossible to Cezanne at the time. His father, Louis Auguste,

was a stern and intimidating figure in Paul's life. And such disobedience was something

Cezanne never dared to consider. He was acutely aware of his father's wishes for him to follow in

his footsteps and become a powerful player in the world of finance. But young Cezanne had no interest

in law or finance, and he shows little interest in conventional academics either. He failed his

exit exams at school and was forced to retake them four months later, eventually graduating with a

grade of average. But despite his poor grades and complete lack of interest in the law, at his father's

insistence, Paul goes to law school in X for the next two years. He wasn't able to suppress his true

passion to study art, though. I imagine some form of arrangement was made between the two as he

continued to study drawing at night at the local art school after he finished his law school obligations

during the day. He did okay studying art at night, not a prodigy by any means, but he did get second

place for his painting of a face. Meanwhile, Zola in Paris has fallen in with some of the most cutting

edge impressionists of the time—Manet, Renoir, Pissarro, and many others. And he's been writing

back to Paul in X about how amazing the city is, and his new artist friends, and how he just has to

come join them. So Cezanne finally decides to defy his dad and just go for it. He abandons his studies

to go to Paris and be a part of the burgeoning art capital of the world. Cezanne shows up in Paris

looking like a provincial hillbilly. Despite his family's wealth and influence in X, he soon realizes

he dresses different, he talks different, and his heavy Provençal accent outs him wherever he goes.

He's also not big on baths, which is really saying something for Europe at the time.

The stark difference between the sophisticated, mannered, and well-dressed Parisians and himself

became one of the defining moments of his life and his identity. But what he did next tells us a lot

about Cezanne's character and attitude. Does he decide to lay low for a while and observe and adopt

the more sophisticated style? No. In fact, he does the opposite. Like a conspiracy theorist being shown

factual evidence, he decides to double down and fully embrace his oddball demeanor. Add to the fact that

he was rapidly balding and sported a thick, bushy black beard, he stood out wherever he went in

Paris. Cezanne struggled with other people. He was usually awkward and somewhat offensive in social

situations. Whether it was shyness, introversion, or grumpiness, there were very few people it seemed

he could tolerate. The older he got, the less he wanted to be with other people as he isolated himself

with his own thoughts, books, and his paintings. Not fitting in and getting terribly anxious,

Cezanne's first trip to Paris doesn't work out. He comes back to ex-defeated and starts working at

his father's bank. One can imagine the heartbreak and disappointment Cezanne must have felt at the time.

It doesn't take long, though, before it became quite clear that working in a bank is absolutely not what

he wants to do with his life. He goes back to studying art at night at the municipal school,

keeping up his passion while making a new plan. While he was definitely prone to feelings of deep

sadness and disappointment, he was also stubborn and relentless. And one failed attempt was not

going to keep him from his dreams. So, he packs up again and heads back to Paris in early 1862,

determined to make it work this time. Cezanne spends a lot of time at the Louvre,

copying figures from the masters like Peter Paul Rubens and from ancient Roman sculptures. Cezanne admired

the blatant sensuality of Eugene Delacroix and Gustave Courbet. He loved the solidity and

the heaviness of Courbet's figures. It's at the Louvre where Cezanne's most important art

training happens. It's here where he begins to imagine himself and his paintings hanging alongside

this historical record of artistic achievement. It's the strength and power of these works in the

museum that drive Cezanne to make something permanent, that had a fundamental, structural

truth that could withstand the erosion of time. Cezanne knows, as any cultured Westerner of the

time, that the gatekeeper to the world of curators and galleries is the salon. But as we discussed in

the first lecture, the salon was tightly controlled, and only artwork meeting with the strict standards

of its jury would be accepted. Cezanne never had much luck at the official salon, and was rejected six

years in a row. Comparing what was being prized in the salon at the time, it seems pretty clear why

Cezanne wasn't accepted. For one thing, Cezanne's early work reveals a bit of a dark and troubled mind,

not unlike teens and young adults now. Cezanne definitely went through what one might call his emo

period. Emotionally fraught, not unlike early 2000s screamo punk bands with themes of sex, death, and

violence. Perhaps he felt trapped by the expectations of his father and family, religion, and community.

One time he even told Zola that he wanted to kill his whole family, but he was financially dependent on

them. Yikes! Maybe he was beginning to realize that not only was he an outsider in his hometown,

but he was also a misfit in Paris. And although impossible to know for certain, it seems that

Cezanne also had no intimate partners until the age of 30. Considering these variables, it wouldn't

be too surprising if these feelings led to anxiety about his own mortality and sexuality.

We can see him working through deep and intense emotions, not only with the subject matter, but also

with the way he puts paint on the canvas. An avid and voracious reader, Paul was inspired

by many of the classic Greek tragedies with themes of violence and eroticism. The Abduction, from 1867,

is a good example depicting a beautiful maiden being kidnapped by a powerful masculine figure,

a trope found in several Greek myths. The painting is dark, sinister, and brooding—a window, perhaps,

into Cezanne's mind at this time. But paintings like these may also have been motivated by his desire to

gain acceptance at the Salon, which tended to favor classical and historical subject matter.

His Greek tragedies were not beautiful illustrations, however, as we can see they were dark, aggressive,

and disturbing. We also see in Cezanne's early paintings echoes of other artists who famously

explored the dark that he would have seen at the Louvre, like Theodore Jericho, Eugene Delacroix,

and Caravaggio. He was also inspired by artists in Spain like Francisco Goya, Diego Velazquez, and El

Greco. One can see quite a few visual parallels to these artists, from the obvious color palette

similarities to the quick and gestural way many of the figures in their clothes are painted. Themes of

death and pain are prevalent from these artists who had witnessed the horrors of war firsthand.

These themes continue to enthrall us in pop culture, and it's easy to see how an angry and confused young

man would latch onto these. So, while they do give us an insight into Cezanne's psyche at the time,

it's also important to remember that much of this is developmentally appropriate for his age,

and a big part of the culture. Although grumpy and disagreeable, he wasn't a murderous psychopath.

The difference now, though, is we now have a permanent record of his work at our disposal

to scrutinize. Imagine if all your high school notebook doodles were published for the world to

see. I know for myself, I might come off as looking a bit troubled, but in retrospect,

we usually see typical angst of young adults finding their way in a cruel world.

Looking at some of these early paintings, the first thing I notice is how dark they are. There's

a tremendous amount of thick black paint all over these canvases and mixed into most of the colors.

Like a death metal or emo album cover, Cezanne is going for 100% emotional impact. Nothing very

subtle or nuanced about these. These early paintings have very little light in them. The light is limited

to a few mid-tone highlights. Let's take a closer look at the murder. Not specifically data,

but thought to have been completed around 1868, after Zola's novel Therese Racan, where the heroine

murders her husband. Here we can see Zola's and Cezanne's ideas in sync, no doubt inspiring each

other around similar themes. I imagine Cezanne had early access to Zola's rough drafts, and it becomes

difficult to note who inspired who. Then again, themes of love and death have always been popular in

art of all forms. The difference with Cezanne is that these paintings were coming from a very different

place than the academically trained artist you'd see at the salon with a much more refined and polished

look, very softly blended with few visible brush strokes and photorealistic details. With Cezanne's

paintings, we see them coming from a much more intuitive, emotional, and expressive place inside

his own mind. The space for one is very shallow. We don't see deep vistas in this landscape. We have a very

upfront foreground and a background almost like a curtain behind it. We see a strong and nearly

symmetrical triangle formed from the three figures. The victim is barely visible, and all the focus and

attention are drawn to the two arms doing the killing. Very loose and gestural, no details, no

eyelashes. We see a light triangle against a black background. We already see Cezanne focusing on

structure, permanence, and eternal and serious themes. This is Cezanne trying to make his mark

on the world. Trying to make paintings that could hang in the Louvre alongside the masters.

We will talk more in depth about how Cezanne rejected the style at the time and pursued his own

interests. And that explains paintings like The Murderer in part. But I'm going to offer another

controversial explanation. I'm not sure Cezanne could paint like the old masters, even if he'd wanted to.

Unlike many other artists who had classical training with strong technical skills, I don't see any evidence

that Cezanne ever had the technical skill to paint traditionally realistic subjects the way his peers

could. He certainly didn't have the proper education or training. Sure, he had a few years of night

classes, but it takes years of apprenticeship and study to really master those skills. We can see in

Cezanne's most technically focused work his early sketches and old master copies to be most traditional,

accurate, and detailed of his career. But even these weren't anything that would even come close to the

level of a Nicolas Poussin or a Jacques-Louis David, or even his hero Delacroix for that matter.

Assuming he didn't know how to paint is perhaps more shocking to me than if he thoroughly understood

and then rejected traditional painting. One could imagine the type of confidence gained by mastering

the medium and then moving on to new styles, the way Picasso did. Not Cezanne, I personally don't think

he ever mastered painting. Could part of his anger and anxiety come from his lack of ability to paint like

the old masters? Or did he even care? Perhaps a little of both? But like punk bands of the 1970s who

never bothered learning to play the guitar in terms of scales and modes, he still had the confidence and

surety that his rough, unlearned style and idiosyncratic approach was valid, important, and innovative.

Cezanne was very smart. He had a better academic education and was more well-read than any of his peers.

He had a tremendously deep understanding of the world and of science, and he was very educated about art,

even if he lacked the traditional technical skills.

Although he never stayed very long, Paris made Cezanne into the artist he became.

Being exposed to the great museums of the most innovative artists in Paris gave him both a solid

art historical foundation and an intimate familiarity with the new ideas and techniques percolating in Paris.

Cezanne would have remained an unknown provincial artist without everything he learned there.

After some years in Paris, Louis-Auguste realized that his son was absolutely committed to his artistic practice,

and there was no changing that. The two slowly reconciled, and eventually Louis-Auguste began supporting

his son's artistic career with a monthly allowance. Cezanne would gain the freedom to pursue painting full-time,

without having to worry about rent, food, and the necessities of life.

If Cezanne's work stayed in the dark and emo phase, it is highly unlikely any of us would know

his name today. While interesting and groundbreaking in retrospect, this is not the style that tectonically

shifted the entire art world. Cezanne needed someone to inspire him to new heights, new techniques,

and a new way of seeing. And it was during this phase of his career that he met the older and more

experienced, realist-turned-impressionist painter Camille Pissarro. Pissarro had been painting in far-off

locations around the world, learning techniques and approaches from a wide variety of landscapes,

artists, and cultures. The elder Pissarro took many artists under his wing, mostly impressionists and

other salon rejects. Cezanne said of Pissarro, he was a father for me, a man to consult and a little

like the good lord. To Cezanne, Pissarro offered sympathy, support, and encouragement, and believed

in Cezanne as an artist. Thanks Cezanne never got from his father. While Pissarro's work was accepted

at the salon and Cezanne's rejected, Pissarro was a kind and sympathetic friend and shared his

frustration and dissatisfaction with the Academy, despite his own success. As much as this relationship

started out as a mentor arrangement, Cezanne's genius soon became apparent to Pissarro,

and the relationship matured into more of an equal friendship in which both artists respected each

other, learned from one another, and encouraged each other. Cezanne and Pissarro famously traveled

together on landscape painting excursions. One of the 19th century technologies that was revolutionizing

the world of art was the paint tube, which had been invented by the American painter John Goff Rand

in 1841. One of the challenges of oil paint to this point was that it was a time-consuming process to

prepare and it dried out easily, making it hard to preserve or transport. But Rand's metal paint tubes

allowed oil paint to be stored and transported like toothpaste and simply squeezed out when it was

needed. Not only that, but now paint could be mass manufactured and sold ready to use, ending the need

for artists to grind up pigments and mix them with oil. Very time-consuming. It's strange to think how

something so simple can create an artistic revolution. But as Renoir once commented, without tubes of paint,

there would have been no impressionism. The newly invented paint tube was like taking the leash off

of artists and they were freed from the confines of the studio and could pack up a portable studio and

venture out into the world. Carrying their paints with them and ready-to-use tubes, without fear of it

drying out in the fresh air and sunlight, Cezanne frequently visited Pissarro in the Oye Valley after

they had left Paris. And together, they would venture out to draw and paint the local landscape—usually

the same subjects—country paths, villages, houses, and the landscape. Pissarro was drawn to the everyday

and the common man. He opened up Cezanne's eyes to the beauty of the world around him. Looking at Cezanne's

black and lightless studio paintings, it seems Pissarro literally brought him out into the light and

showed him the colors of the landscape, the trees, the mountains, and occasionally the people. We can

clearly see Cezanne's paintings getting brighter, lighter, more colorful, more hopeful, and more beautiful.

As they worked together, both artists would look over each other's shoulders—although Cezanne hated

people watching him paint—and he would always set up his easel behind Pissarro's. They started adopting

aspects from each other's techniques. We also see evidence of Cezanne starting to deliberately

manipulate the space and the shapes he was looking at, moving things around, shifting the side of the

house onto the front. What? You can't do that! You can't just chop off one part of a building and

stick it on another side just because you like the way it looks. You must paint it as it is. That is truth.

That is life. So is Cezanne lying? Well, another way to look at it is that he is showing us more of the

thing than we can see from a single vantage point. Cezanne is also really getting into the palette

knife during these landscape painting trips, which was a pretty odd choice. For one, a palette knife is

not for painting with. It's for mixing paint on your palette, scraping paint off, and moving paint around.

It's basically like a miniature trowel, like what bricklayers use to lay a thick coat of mortar

on each row of bricks. To that end, some made condescending remarks about the way Cezanne

laid paint like a mason. Of course, Cezanne didn't care. He embraced the condescension,

as he embraced the palette knife and made big, thick, flat marks as if he were building a house

or perhaps a cathedral. This actually makes quite a bit of sense when you consider that Cezanne longed for

structure, permanence, and stability in his paintings. He was convinced that is what would

put his paintings on par with the serious paintings he saw in the Louvre, the ones that

he would spend hours in front of copying and fantasizing about. He was not as interested in

temporary rewards, accolades, or recognition as he was long-term greatness. He wanted to be included in

the pantheon of great artists. At the time, Cezanne's approach would have been the weirdest,

most backwards way of accomplishing this goal. By rejecting all the refined skills of the great

masters and painting more like a clumsy bricklayer with deliberate and unsophisticated slabs of paint

on the canvas, he still had a way to go before making his name. But Pissarro put him on the new

path and opened a new avenue for Cezanne to mature into the artists that would revolutionize painting forever.