The Basket of Apples
c. 1893
Oil on canvas; 65 × 80 cm (25 7/16 × 31 1/2 in.)
The Art Institute of Chicago, Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection, 1926.252
FWN 860
The Objects
Most of the objects in The Basket of Apples can be easily identified. The basket is probably wicker, woven densely enough to prevent light from coming through the gaps between the lengths of willow or reed from which it is made. The irregular shape of its upper edge toward the handle indicates that it is made from an organic material that is susceptible to wear. The fruit inside and outside the basket includes several varieties of green and variegated apples, a few oranges, and what could be a pear at the right. The varieties of all three kinds of fruit available to Cezanne at the time of painting are too numerous to make identification feasible.[1] The bottle is made of dark glass and may have originally contained rum or wine. A closely similar bottle appears alongside other objects in a photograph from the 1930s of Cezanne’s studio at Les Lauves (fig. 10.1), although this may have been brought there from elsewhere. It is uncertain whether this bottle is the same as the one without a label now in the studio.[2] The biscuits stacked on the plate are ladyfingers or boudoir biscuits, also known as savoiardi.[3] The cloth is a traditional white cotton tea towel, or torchon, with a pink stripe, a type still found in Aix-en-Provence. 1
Fig. 10.1
Objects in Cezanne’s Lauves studio, including a bottle. From John Rewald, “Iconographie de Cézanne,” L’amour de l’art 17, no. 5 (May 1936): 188.
The table appears to be plain and rectangular and likely made of local pine, of the kind represented in Still Life with Apples and Pears from about 1891–92 (fig. 10.2). In the background of this painting is the blue skirting surmounted by a red band characteristic of the Cezanne family home, the Jas de Bouffan, or one of its outbuildings.[4] Given this, and the similarities of the two tables, the bluish area at the bottom of the Chicago painting to the left of the tea towel could be the floor of the Jas where it meets the skirting above it. Another, more complicated possibility is that the area immediately to the left of the tea towel in the Chicago painting is the void created by removing the drawer of the table, if it is of the type Cezanne depicted in paintings such as Still Life with Bottle (fig. 10.3). In this work, moreover, he elided the transition between the table leg and its apron at the right to some extent to create a broad structure between its right edge and the right edge of the drawer, which resembles the wide, continuous, wooden surface beneath the table at the left of The Basket of Apples. 2
Fig. 10.2
Paul Cezanne (French, 1839–1906). Still Life with Apples and Pears, c. 1891–92 (FWN 841). Oil on canvas; 44.8 × 58.7 cm (17 5/8 × 23 1/8 in.). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Bequest of Stephen C. Clark, 1960, 61.101.3.
Fig. 10.3
Paul Cezanne. Still Life with Bottle, c. 1890 (FWN 831). Oil on canvas; 54.2 × 65.7 cm (21 3/8 × 25 7/8 in.). Pola Museum of Art, Kanagawa, Japan.
It nevertheless remains impossible to correlate the three layers on the left side of the table in the Chicago painting (possibly tabletop, edge, and drawer casing) with the four on the right (possibly tabletop, edge, apron, and drawer casing). Significantly, infrared examination reveals that the underdrawing for this painting included two misaligned horizontals starting from either edge (see Application/technique and artist’s revision in the Technical Report), both of which may have represented the top edge of the table (fig. 10.4). This is difficult to confirm, however, as this area was heavily reworked by the artist at the left, and it is now all but impossible to parse into its components.
3
Fig. 10.4
Infrared reflectogram (Goodrich, 1.5–1.7 µm) of Cezanne’s The Basket of Apples (c. 1893). The Art Institute of Chicago, 1926.252.
Distortion
One of the most perceptive critical assessments of Cezanne’s work to be offered during his lifetime is the article “Paul Cézanne” published by Gustave Geffroy in Le journal on March 25, 1894. Here Geffroy wrote:
4
“It is obvious that the painter … has not been able to overcome difficulties, that obstacles to completion [réalisation] are there for all to see. His is somewhat, and without artifice, the touching quest of the Primitive. There is an absence of atmosphere, of the fluidity by which the planes must be spaced out and the distance made visible from further away. Shapes are sometimes distorted, objects become conflated, and proportions are not always established with sufficient rigor… . The background sometimes moves forward, but the tablecloths and napkins are so supple, the whites so nuanced, and the fruit so naive and beautiful.”[5]5
Geffroy’s remarks must have struck a chord with Cezanne, since he wrote to the critic the day after his article appeared: “Yesterday I read the lengthy study you devoted to highlighting my attempts at painting. I wanted to express my gratitude for the sympathy I found in you.”[6] The passage above was probably written in response to The Kitchen Table of 1888–90 (fig. 10.5), which Geffroy could have seen at a venue he mentions in his article, the house of Paul Alexis, his colleague at Le journal. (Cezanne had given the painting to Alexis, who was a boyhood friend, in 1891 or 1892 when they were both in Aix.)[7] However, the fact that The Basket of Apples is signed—which normally indicated that Cezanne exhibited, sold, or gave away a painting—has led to the suggestion that Geffroy may have seen this work at Alexis’s as well.[8] In any case, Geffroy subsequently made affirmative comments about the paintings Cezanne exhibited at his first one-man show at Ambroise Vollard’s gallery in 1895, one of which was certainly The Basket of Apples, by this time in Vollard’s possession.[9] In his review, in particular, the critic urged the visitor not to “balk at this or that distortion, at this or that lack of perspective or balance” in Cezanne’s paintings.[10]6
Fig. 10.5
Paul Cezanne. The Kitchen Table, 1888–90 (FWN 813). Oil on canvas; 65 × 81.5 cm (25 15/16 × 32 1/8 in.). Musée d’Orsay, Paris, RF 2819.
Geffroy’s observations regarding Cezanne’s distortions are premised on the standard of accuracy set by a photograph, or a painting that reproduces a perspectival view. He was nonetheless correct to identify a number of idiosyncratic features as characteristic of Cezanne’s work, most notably the elision of the different “planes,” the corresponding compression of “distance,” the conflation of separate “objects,” and the proleptic movement of the “background,” all of which are exemplified in both The Kitchen Table and The Basket of Apples. In the earlier work, the ginger jar merges with the shadow of a closely similar tone behind it to its right, just as the teapot blends in with the area of tablecloth behind it to its left. But in the later painting, the background to the right of the stack of ladyfingers slips over the plate in front of it (fig. 10.6), an effect known as passage.[11] Similar effects can be found in several other areas of the painting, including the fruit inside the basket and on the tea towel where an area of white rides over the pink stripe below the large red apple (fig. 10.7). In both works, the high viewpoint causes the tabletop to appear to rise up and press forward. This effect is complicated in The Basket of Apples, however, by the artist’s reworking of the table’s left edge (fig. 10.8), which makes the top warp downward in this area. Conversely, in The Kitchen Table, overpainting in the bottom right corner of the floor causes it to seemingly lurch forward. The top edge of the handle on the basket in The Kitchen Table is also calculated to align with the floor line, creating a “false attachment” of the two that fools the visual system into collapsing the distance between them.[12] By contrast, the basket in The Basket of Apples is plainly made to lean forward by being propped up on a block or brick. The painter Louis Le Bail observed Cezanne “leaning, tilting, balancing the fruits as he wanted” when painting still lifes in the later 1890s, “using farthings and halfpennies.”[13] But no amount of such manipulation would explain the degree to which objects seem to topple forward in either painting. 7
Individual objects also exhibit distortions in their shapes and proportions, just as Geffroy described. Notably, the teapot in The Kitchen Table leans to the left, as does the bottle in The Basket of Apples. The bottom edge of the tabletop in the earlier painting is also broken or discontinuous, just like the top edge of its counterpart in the later work. (The situation with the lower edge is similar but less easily analyzed, as mentioned above.) Additionally, the plate in The Basket of Apples is elongated into an ellipse, and several of the more prominent fruit in the painting bulge, not unlike the ginger jar in The Kitchen Table. 8
Cezanne’s “Way of Seeing”
In his important book on the artist of 1927, Cézanne: A Study of His Development, Roger Fry offered a formalist explanation of such “deformations,” suggesting that they were the upshot of Cezanne’s “harmonic sense” of volume and design.[14] With regard to another still life, Still Life with Fruit Dish of 1879–80 (fig. 10.9), he argued that “the circles of the Compotier and glass seen in perspective give us ovals, and the oval is a form that … harmonizes ill with the circle and the right line. So that one is not astonished to find that Cézanne has deformed them into oblongs with rounded ends. This deformation deprives the oval of its elegance and thinness and gives it the same character of gravity and amplitude that the spheres possess.”[15] This way of thinking was influential well beyond Cezanne scholarship, and it found an important echo in Earle Loran’s Cézanne’s Composition of 1950, which took a more surface-oriented approach to the artist’s sense of design. This emerges in Loran’s diagram of the distortions created by the “multiple viewpoints” implied by the objects in The Kitchen Table (fig. 10.10). This way of thinking implies that the apparent distortions in The Basket of Apples had a similar decorative purpose.9
Fig. 10.9
Paul Cezanne. Still Life with Fruit Dish, 1879–80 (FWN 780). Oil on canvas; 46.4 × 54.6 cm (18 1/4 × 21 1/2 in.). Museum of Modern Art, New York, Gift of Mr. and Mrs. David Rockefeller, 69.1991.
Fig. 10.10
Diagram of distortion through shifting of eye levels (and split tabletop). From Earle Loran, Cézanne’s Composition (University of California Press, 1950), 77.
When speaking to the artists and critics who visited him in later life, Cezanne did acknowledge that his work contained distortions of the kind observed by Geffroy. But whereas Fry maintained that it was Cezanne’s sense of design that created his “deformations” by controlling his “vision of the object,” the artist took the opposite view.[16] He told his interlocutors that it was his “way of seeing” (optique) that caused (what they saw as) his distortions. The clearest such statement is the one Émile Bernard recalled he made in 1904 or 1905 regarding Cezanne’s elision of planes and discontinuous horizontals: “The fault Cézanne had most to complain about was his eyesight. ‘I see planes overlapping,’ he told me, ‘and sometimes straight lines seem to drop.’ These defects, which I thought were the result of deliberate neglect, he blamed on weakness and deficiency of his way of seeing.”[17] Cezanne also admitted to making verticals slope and shapes bulge when speaking with R. P. Rivière and Jacques Schnerb in 1905: “Cézanne did not pretend to be unaware of the asymmetry of his bottles or the faulty perspective of his plates. Showing one of his watercolors, he corrected a bottle that was not vertical with his fingernail and said, as if apologizing: ‘I am a primitive, I have a lazy eye. I’ve been to the École twice, but I don’t make a set piece. If I get interested in a head, I make it too big.’”[18]10
Although it might seem from such statements that Cezanne was confessing to making mistakes in his works, he was doing nothing of the sort. Rather, he was indulging in what Provençals call the blauge, or a practical joke at the expense of outsiders, and françiots (“frenchies” from the North) in particular.[19] He was, in other words, playing up to his visitors’ sense of his failure to draw “correctly,” in the last case by suggesting he was a Primitive, or naive pre-Renaissance painter of the kind he elsewhere said he disliked.[20] Cezanne was being sincere, however, when he told Bernard that he was the “primitive”—or pioneer—of “the path” he had “discovered.”[21] This remark is consistent, then, with his advice to Bernard: “What the painter needs first and foremost, is a personal way of seeing.”[22]11
Gestalt-Free Perception
If Cezanne’s personal way of seeing is interpreted broadly as his particular “take” on the world, it also was—or rested on—a specific set of visual practices. These included staring at wallpaper until its pattern popped out, looking fixedly at faces until their meaningful gestalt disappeared, and steadily regarding the edges of objects until they started to vacillate.[23] According to Joachim Gasquet, moreover, Cezanne routinely practiced intense and protracted staring.[24] Describing a session during which Cezanne was painting sur le motif, Gasquet recalled how “his eyes came to bear upon objects. Slowly they … laid hold of them. They fixated fearsomely on one point. ‘I can’t tear them away,’ he once told me… . ‘They are so firmly glued to the spot I am looking at, it feels like they will bleed.’ Minutes, sometimes a quarter of an hour, would slip by like this.”[25] Gasquet also described another conversation in which Cezanne told him, “The slightest faltering of the eye ruins the whole thing… . It’s terrible, the way my eye gets glued to a tree trunk or a lump of earth. The pull is so strong that it’s painful tearing it away.” “Yes,” Gasquet replied, “I’ve noticed you sometimes wait twenty minutes between two brushstrokes.”[26]12
These recollections lend credence to the argument advanced by the art theorist Anton Ehrenzweig in The Psycho-Analysis of Artistic Vision and Hearing that the distinctive “distortions” in Cezanne’s works can be attributed to his habits attending to what lay in “peripheral vision” while sustaining “prolonged fixation.”[27] He claimed that—in general—doing so dis-integrated the elements out of which the unified objects of vision are normally formed.[28]13
A particular distortion Cezanne’s staring produced, according to Ehrenzweig, was the “broken” (or discontinuous) tabletop.[29] This, he specified, was created by the artist’s habit of focusing on a cloth overhanging the table’s edge, as seen in the diagram that captures the situation in The Basket of Apples (fig. 10.11). The same argument implies that the top edge is broken into three sections, each at a different height, because Cezanne focused on the basket, bottle, and plate that occlude it.[30]14
Fig. 10.11
Cezanne’s “broken” table edge. From Anton Ehrenzweig, The Psycho-Analysis of Artistic Vision and Hearing: An Introduction to a Theory of Unconscious Perception (Routledge; Kegan Paul, 1953), 201.
Ehrenzweig also explains the rising up of tabletops in Cezanne’s works in terms of the appearance they assume in peripheral vision. He maintains, more specifically, that their “toppling” appearance was created by the artist’s habit of focusing on the rear edge, which makes the front edge appear shorter, thereby reversing its normal perspective.[31] So, too, the bulging of objects in Cezanne’s still lifes can be attributed to peripheral vision, if Ehrenzweig is to be believed.[32] Ehrenzweig’s argument goes some way toward explaining the sloping verticals of Cezanne’s bottles as well. Drawing on the psychology of his time, he adduced a diagram of the Köhler effect that shows the kind of deformation a square undergoes in peripheral vision when its top left corner is fixated on (fig. 10.12).[33] There is some evidence to suggest that the effect became more pronounced for Cezanne the more he fixated on things, inasmuch as the paint buildup in several of his paintings increased in proportion with the time he spent on them.[34] This is certainly true of The Basket of Apples. Its surface shows that Cezanne overpainted and restated both sides of the bottle’s neck, exaggerating the slant in the process (see Application/technique and artist’s revision in the Technical Report).[35]15
Fig. 10.12
Peripheral distortions of a square. From Anton Ehrenzweig, The Psycho-Analysis of Artistic Vision and Hearing: An Introduction to a Theory of Unconscious Perception (Routledge; Kegan Paul, 1953), 197.
Although the effect of Cezanne’s manner of seeing is to make individual objects look distorted when viewed in isolation, they appear differently when seen in the context of the painting as whole. As the philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty pointed out, the “overall composition” of the work serves to resolve “distortions” in this wider context so that they produce the “impression of an emerging order, an object in the act of appearing, organizing itself before our eyes.”[36] By this account, the slightly disjointed composition of The Basket of Apples produced by distortions in individual objects has the effect of making the scene appear to coalesce. To consider this notion in conjunction with Ehrenzweig’s argument: Cezanne brings the spectator back in this painting to a stage where perception is not yet finalized in order to show things in the process of taking shape.16
“Multiple Viewpoints”
Loran saw what he described as Cezanne’s “multiple viewpoints” as purely imaginary distortions designed to enhance the design of the painting, but they can also be ascribed to perceptual causes not dependent on Cezanne moving around his motifs (which he did not).[37] For Ehrenzweig, multiple viewpoints is in fact the “gestalt-free” effect produced by the “successive sectional glances” we take when scanning a scene, before synthesizing them into a “composite memory image.”[38] Similarly, Merleau-Ponty describes the warping of tabletops in Cezanne as a function of “the different points of view” that such surfaces present to the “eye” that “runs over” them.[39]17
Merleau-Ponty gives another, richer account of so-called multiple viewpoints under the rubric of a view upon a scene “from everywhere.”[40] This rests on the idea that we can “inhabit” the different objects in a scene, including the houses in a landscape, and even the objects in a still life.[41] Since these act as “spectators” of one another, inhabiting them allows us to see “aspects” of them that are “hidden” from a spectator stationed outside the scene.[42] Seeing in this way would certainly explain the otherwise incongruous bulging and warping exhibited by objects in the painting. Such effects are more pronounced in other still lifes, notably Still Life with Apples and Pears (see fig. 10.2). Here, for instance, the large red-and-yellow apple at the rear presents more of its curved surface than it would if represented in perspective, as though we are allowed to see what its neighbors on either side can see of it.[43]18
Sight and Touch
No account of the so-called distortions in The Basket of Apples could be complete without some explanation of how they express the close connection between “sight” and “touch,” which is implicit in Merleau-Ponty’s account of the “potential movement” involved in taking a view “from everywhere.”[44] Cezanne himself drew this connection in conversation with the amateur painter Jules Borély in 1902 when he told him, “Look, that tree trunk: between us and it there is a space, an atmosphere, I grant you that. But then again it is this palpable, resistant trunk, this body.”[45] The way of seeing Cezanne set out here is closely consistent with one described by Merleau-Ponty when he argued that visual experience has not only a conscious, “reflective” side, in which objects appear remote from us, but also an unconscious, “primordial” dimension, in which “touch and sight” concur to facilitate a “blind palpation” of objects that bestows “proximity” on them even at a distance.[46] Seeing thus construed is directly germane to The Basket of Apples, insofar as it helps explain why Cezanne’s apples look tangible. 19
Fully explaining how the artist produced this effect requires a related scientific theory, however: the “two visual systems” hypothesis proposed by David Milner and Melvyn Goodale in the 1990s. This divides perception into a “vision for perception,” which uses the data furnished by the eyes to construct our familiar visual experience, and a “vision for action,” which uses the same input to inform the brain’s motor system how to act on objects, without making that information conscious.[47] And while vision for perception relies on “allocentric” information concerning the spatial positions of objects in a scene relative to one another, vision for action exploits “egocentric” information about the absolute position of objects (coded in terms of their distance from the spectator).[48] The two systems nevertheless communicate through “cross talk,” so that visual information can shed light on the movements required by action.[49]20
All this helps explain how Cezanne made things look palpable in The Basket of Apples with the idea that it captures what the psychologist Dhanraj Vishwanath calls the “plastic effect” of visual experience. This term refers to how things appear “touchable” and “graspable” when they provide us with reliable egocentric information that gives us a sense of our “embodiment” in space.[50] They do so best when they are close and offer precise information about stereo disparity and motion parallax, especially, through the pronouncedly different views they present to the two eyes. Cezanne’s fusion of different views is thus arguably what makes objects in The Basket of Apples look so “palpable,” since it conveys the same kind of information. 21
Another aspect of Merleau-Ponty’s conception of vision that illuminates The Basket of Apples is what he describes as “narcissism,” a term expressing that to see the world is to “see oneself” (although not as an object).[51] This happens because “things” reciprocate the advances of our “fleshly eyes” by implanting a “carnal formula of their presence” in us.[52] The workings of this process help explain in particular the metaphorically human character of Cezanne’s apples.[53] This is brought out (a little too) poetically in an account Gasquet gave of a conversation with Cezanne about portraits. He recalled that the artist told him: 22
“People think that a sugar bowl does not have a physiognomy, or a soul. But this changes every day, too. You have to know how to handle them, how to coax them, these gentlemen… . These glasses, these plates, they talk to each other. Endless confidences. I’ve given up on flowers. They wilt immediately. Fruits are more faithful. They like to have their portraits painted. They seem to beg you to forgive them for fading… . They come to you with all their scents, telling you about the fields they left behind, the rain that fed them, the dawns they have seen.”[54]23
Gasquet’s embellishment notwithstanding, it is difficult to resist the temptation to see the fruit in The Basket of Apples almost as “people” consorting with one another.
Paul Smith
24
- I am grateful to the Leverhulme Trust for the award of a Major Research Fellowship, which facilitated much of the research for this essay. For more on the fruit available to Cezanne, see cat. 8.
- See Michel Fraisset, Les vies silencieuses de Cézanne (Office du Tourisme, Aix-en-Provence, 1999), no. 261. The “bouteille verre opaque marron—Goulot strié” is listed among the “objets identiques” to those once in the studio whose provenance is uncertain. It appeared for the first time in the most recent, 1998 inventory made by Fraisset.
- These are crisper than biscuits cuillère, which are dusted with sugar. See also Richard Brettell, Post-Impressionists (Art Institute of Chicago; Harry N. Abrams, 1987), 67, which misidentifies the biscuits as dents de loup, which have three sides, two of which are flat, and three sharp, tapered edges.
- For more on this red band, see cat. 8.
- Gustave Geffroy, “L’art d’aujourd’hui: Paul Cézanne,” Le journal, quotidien, littéraire, artistique et politique, no. 544 (Mar. 25, 1894): 1: “Il est de toute évidence que le peintre … n’a pu vaincre la difficulté, que l’obstacle à la réalisation s’affirme pour tous les yeux. C’est un peu, et sans procédé, la touchante recherche des Primitifs. Il y a des absences de l’atmosphère, de la fluidité par laquelle les plans doivent s’espacer et le lointain se voir à sa distance. Les formes gauchissent parfois, les objets se mêlent, les proportions ne sont pas établies toujours avec la rigueur suffisante… . Les fonds parfois avancent, mais les nappes, les serviettes sont si souples, de blancs si nuancés, et les fruits sont de si naïves belles choses.” On Geffroy’s remarks about Cezanne’s gaucherie in 1894 and 1895, see Richard Shiff, Cézanne and the End of Impressionism: A Study of the Theory, Technique, and Critical Evaluation of Modern Art (University of Chicago Press, 1984), 168, 189–92, 194.
- Paul Cezanne to Geffroy, Mar. 26, 1894, in Paul Cézanne: Correspondence, ed. John Rewald (Paris: Grasset, 1978), 239: “J’ai lu hier la longue étude que vous m’avez consacrée à mettre en lumière les tentatives que j’ai fait en peinture. Je voulais en témoigner ma reconnaissance pour le sympathie que j’ai rencontré en vous.”
- See John Rewald, Cézanne: Sa vie, son œuvre, son amitié pour Zola (Albin Michel, 1939), 336, citing a recollection communicated by Paul Signac: “Paul Alexis trouva le peintre en 1891, à Aix … . Paul Signac se rappelait qu’Alexis revint de ce voyage avec quatre tableaux de Cézanne, cadeaux de l’artiste, et dont deux étaient des natures mortes.” See also Robert William Ratcliffe, “Cézanne’s Working Methods and Their Theoretical Background” (PhD diss., Courtauld Institute of Art, University of London, 1960), 20, which states that one of these was “definitely” The Kitchen Table.
- See Robert Jensen, “The 1895 Cézanne Show at Vollard’s Revisited,” Art and Visual Studies Faculty Working Papers 2 (2022): https://uknowledge.uky.edu/art_papers/2/. On Cezanne’s practice of signing paintings, see cat. 2.
- See the catalogue entry by Jayne Warman in Cézanne to Picasso: Ambroise Vollard, Patron of the Avant-Garde, ed. Rebecca A. Rabinow, exh. cat. (Museum of Modern Art; Yale University Press, 2006), 342–43. The fact that Geffroy stated in his review of the Vollard exhibition that the works had no “signatures” lends support to Jensen’s contention that The Basket of Apples was given to Alexis. See Gustave Geffroy, “Paul Cezanne,” La vie artistique, 6e série (H. Floury, 1900), 215; and Jensen, “1895 Cézanne Show,” https://uknowledge.uky.edu/art_papers/2/. It is not possible to trace the original article, which Geffroy claims here to have published on Nov. 16, 1895.
- Geffroy, “Paul Cezanne,” 219: “ne vous arrêtez pas, à telle gaucherie, à tel manque de perspective, d’équilibre.”
- For a discussion of passage, see Earle Loran, Cézanne’s Composition (University of California Press, 1950), 32–33, 65, 102, 115, 130. This draws on André Lhote’s Traité du paysage of 1939, which defines the effect as an “élément de reunion des formes en un tout cohérent” and as the “interruption de contour.” See André Lhote, Traités du paysage et de la figure (Grasset, 1979), 34, 55. See also Émile Bernard, “Souvenirs sur Paul Cézanne et lettres inédites,” Mercure de France 70, nos. 247 and 248 (Oct. 1 and 16, 1907): 400: “Une fois je lui dis ‘Pour moi, le passage du ton a son origine dans le reflet; tout objet participe sur ses bords ombreux de son voisin.’ Il trouva ma définition si excellente qu’il me dit: ‘Vous voyez juste, vous irez loin.’”
- On this effect, see John Willats, “The Rules of Representation,” in A Companion to Art Theory, ed. Paul Smith and Carolyn Wilde (Blackwell, 2002), 419.
- A recollection communicated to John Rewald cited in Rewald, Cézanne: Sa vie, 403: “penchant, inclinant, équilibrant les fruits comme il voulait que ce soit, se servant pour cela de pièces d’un sou et de deux sous.”
- Roger Fry, Cézanne: A Study of His Development (Hogarth, 1927), 48.
- Fry, Cézanne, 48.
- Fry, Cézanne, 48.
- Bernard, “Souvenirs,” 626: “Le défaut dont avait le plus à se plaindre Cézanne était celui de sa vue. ‘Je vois les plans se chevauchant, me disait-il, et parfois les lignes droites me paraissent tomber.’ Ces défauts, que je croyais des négligences volontaires, il les accusait comme des faiblesses et des vices de son optique.” For other instances of Cezanne’s use of the term, see Bernard, “Souvenirs,” 394–95, 397.
- R. P. Rivière and Jacques Schnerb, “L’atelier de Cézanne,” La grande revue (Dec. 25, 1907): 813: “Cézanne ne faisait donc pas mine d’ignorer l’asymétrie de ses bouteilles, la perspective défectueuse de ses assiettes. Montrant une de ses aquarelles, il corrigeait de l’ongle une bouteille qui n’était pas verticale et il disait, comme en s’excusant: ‘Je suis un primitif, j’ai l’œil paresseux. Je me suis présenté deux fois à l’Ecole, mais je ne fais pas l’ensemble: une tête m’intéresse, je la fais trop grosse.’”
- On Cézanne and the Provençal blague, see Edmond Jaloux, Les saisons littéraires 1896–1903 (Plon, 1942), 1:104. See also Ambroise Vollard, Paul Cézanne (Ambroise Vollard, 1914), 118.
- See Joachin Gasquet, Cézanne (Bernheim-Jeune, 1921), 44: “Il n’aimait pas les primitifs.” See also 99.
- Cezanne quoted in Bernard, “Souvenirs,” 614: “Je reste le primitif de la voie que j’ai découverte.” See also Émile Bernard, “Une conversation avec Cézanne,” Mercure de France 148, no. 551 (June 1, 1921): 376 (“Les primitifs … regardent le présent sans être gênés par un passé”); Gasquet, Cézanne, 70; and Shiff, Cézanne, 194.
- Émile Bernard, “Paul Cézanne,” L’Occident, no. 32 (July 1904): 22: “Ce qu’il faut d’abord au peintre, selon Cézanne, c’est une optique personnelle.” This betrays Cezanne’s debt to his favorite novel, Manette Salomon of 1867 by the Goncourt brothers, in which the protagonist—the painter Naz Coriolis—is described as jealous of “son optique personnelle.” See Edmond de Goncourt and Jules de Goncourt, Manette Salomon (Paris, 1867), 2:265; and cat. 11. On Cezanne’s admiration for the book, see Vollard, Paul Cézanne, 176; Gasquet, Cézanne, 44, 66; Charles Camoin, “Souvenirs sur Paul Cézanne,” L’amour de l’art 2, no. 1 (1921): 26; and Ratcliffe, “Cézanne’s Working Methods,” 372.
- For these examples, see cats. 2, 7, and 13.
- See cat. 7.
- Gasquet, Cézanne, 61: “Ses yeux de nouveau se reportaient sur les objets; lentement ils … s’en emparaient. Ils se fixaient sur un point, terribles. ‘Je ne puis les en arracher, me dit-il un jour … Ils sont tellement collés au point que je regarde qu’il me semble qu’ils vont saigner.’ Des minutes, un quart d’heure parfois, coulaient.”
- Gasquet, Cézanne, 92: “‘La moindre défaillance d’œil fiche tout à bas … c’est terrible, mon œil se colle au tronc, à la motte. Je souffre à l’en arracher, tant quelque chose me retient.’ ‘Oui,’ je l’ai remarqué, ‘vous restez vingt minutes parfois entre deux coups de pinceau?’”
- Anton Ehrenzweig, The Psycho-Analysis of Artistic Vision and Hearing: An Introduction to a Theory of Unconscious Perception (Routledge; Kegan Paul, 1953), 193–215.
- Ehrenzweig, Artistic Vision, 193, 195, 203–5, 206–8, 211. Modern psychology confirms that gestalt processes do operate within our perception of objects, particularly in separating them from the background and in grouping their constituent elements into larger structures and wholes. See Mary A. Peterson, “Overlapping Partial Configurations in Object Memory: An Alternative Solution to Classic Problems in Perception and Recognition,” in Perception of Faces, Objects, and Scenes: Analytic and Holistic Processes, ed. Mary A. Peterson and Gillian Rhodes (Oxford University Press, 2003), 269–94.
- Ehrenzweig, Artistic Vision, 199–200, 211.
- Recent psychology shows that our “cyclopean” (or integrated) perception of the different views presented to the two eyes in such situations compensates for how these separate a continuous horizontal edge into two (or more) misaligned sections when it is viewed on the diagonal. See Hiroshi Ono and Nicholas J. Wade, “The Pursuit of Leonardo’s Constraint,” Perception 31 (2002): 83–102. The horizontal edge of a tabletop can also be made to appear disjointed simply by viewing it with the head tilted to one side. I am grateful to Rob Pepperell for this observation.
- Ehrenzweig, Artistic Vision, 194, 200–201.
- Ehrenzweig, Artistic Vision, 196.
- Ehrenzweig, Artistic Vision, 197–99.
- See Ratcliffe, “Cézanne’s Working Methods,” 113–69.
- More complex changes, and an earlier, even more radical slant, are indicated by infrared examination.
- See Maurice Merleau-Ponty, “Cézanne’s Doubt,” in The Merleau-Ponty Aesthetics Reader: Philosophy and Painting, ed. Galen A. Johnson, trans. Michael B. Smith (Northwestern University Press, 1993), 65.
- For the evidence that Cezanne did not change his standpoint when painting, see Paul Smith, “Cézanne’s ‘Primitive’ Perspective, or The ‘View from Everywhere,’” Art Bulletin 95, no. 1 (Mar. 2013): 103–5.
- Ehrenzweig, Artistic Vision, 195–96.
- Merleau-Ponty, “Cézanne’s Doubt,” 64.
- Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception, trans. Colin Smith (Routledge, 1996), 67–69. See Sean Dorrance Kelly, “Seeing Things in Merleau-Ponty,” in The Cambridge Companion to Merleau-Ponty, ed. Taylor Carman and Mark B. N. Hansen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), 90–92.
- Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology, 68.
- Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology, 68.
- Merleau-Ponty’s argument is confirmed by the recent theory of predictive processing. This holds that we can preview a scene from different vantage points without actually having to move because we can correlate self-fulfilling predictions about what we would see if we were to do so with predictions about our movements. See Jacob Hohwy, The Predictive Mind (Oxford University Press, 2013), 75–85; and Andy Clark, Surfing Uncertainty: Prediction, Action, and the Embodied Mind (Oxford University Press, 2016), 111–38.
- Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology, 109–18.
- Jules Borély, “Cézanne à Aix,” L’art vivant, no. 37 (July 1, 1926): 493: “Voyez, de cet arbre à nous il y a un espace, une atmosphère, je vous l’accorde; mais c’est ensuite ce tronc, palpable, résistant, ce corps.” See also cat. 1.
- Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology; Merleau-Ponty, “Cézanne’s Doubt”; and Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Visible and the Invisible, ed. Claude Lefort, trans. Alphonso Lingis (Northwestern University Press, 1968), 58, 128.
- See A. David Milner and Melvyn A. Goodale, The Visual Brain in Action (Oxford University Press, 1995).
- See Milner and Goodale, The Visual Brain, 88–92.
- See Milner and Goodale, The Visual Brain, 110–13.
- Dhanraj Vishwanath, “Visual Information in Surface and Depth Perception: Reconciling Pictures and Reality,” in Perception Beyond Inference: The Information Content of Visual Processing, ed. Liliana Albertazzi, Gert van Tonder, and Dhanraj Vishwanath (MIT Press, 2010), 204–6, 224–30.
- Merleau-Ponty, The Visible, 249. See also Maurice Merleau-Ponty, “Eye and Mind,” in Merleau-Ponty, Aesthetics Reader, 124; and cat. 1.
- Merleau-Ponty, “Eye and Mind,” 126–27.
- See cat. 2.
- Cezanne quoted in Gasquet, Cézanne, 122: “On croit qu’un sucrier ça n’a pas une physionomie, une âme. Mais ça change tous les jours aussi. Il faut savoir les prendre, les amadouer, ces messieurs-là… . Ces verres, ces assiettes, ça se parle entre eux. Des confidences interminables. Les fleurs, j’y ai renoncé. Elles se fanent tout de suite. Les fruits sont plus fidèles. Ils aiment qu’on fasse leur portrait. Ils sont là comme à vous demander pardon de se décolorer… . Ils viennent à vous dans toutes leurs odeurs, vous parlent des champs qu’ils ont quittés, de la pluie qui les a nourris, des aurores qu’ils épiaient.”
- See, for example, the chart of standard sizes available from Bourgeois Aîné in 1888, reproduced in David Bomford et al., Art in the Making: Impressionism, exh. cat. (National Gallery, London; Yale University Press, 1990), 46, fig. 31.
- Thread count and weave information were determined by Thread Count Automation Project software. See Don H. Johnson, “Thread Count Report: Paul Cézanne, The Basket of Apples (FWN860 / 1926.252),” Feb. 2020, /files/a59a24c7-1bde-45ad-adae-74d24564b5c3/Cez_1926-252_Basket_tcr_FWN860.pdf.
- See Kim Muir, “1926-252_Cezanne_Basket_ARP_SEM_202212,” Dec. 8, 2022, on file in the department of Conservation and Science, Art Institute of Chicago.
- The ground composition was analyzed using scanning electron microscopy coupled with energy-dispersive X-ray spectroscopy (SEM/EDX). For more detailed results and conditions used, see Muir, “1926-252_Cezanne_Basket_ARP_SEM_202212.”
- Though the techniques used to analyze the pigments cannot discriminate between the two types of copper-arsenate pigments available in the nineteenth century—emerald green and Scheele’s green—the former is more likely, since the use of Scheele’s green is rare and emerald green has been confirmed in Cezanne’s paintings at other institutions. See Francesca Rosi et al., “A Non-Invasive XRF Study Supported by Multivariate Statistical Analysis and Reflectance FTIR to Assess the Composition of Modern Painting Materials,” Spectrochimica Acta Part A: Molecular and Biomolecular Spectroscopy 71, no. 5 (2009): 1655–62, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.saa.2008.06.011; and Anya Shutova and Barbara Buckley, “Materials and Techniques: A Study of Cézanne’s Paintings in the Barnes Foundation,” in Cézanne in the Barnes Foundation, ed. André Dombrowski, Nancy Ireson, and Sylvie Patry (Rizzoli Electa, 2021), 31–57. However, recent investigations have further highlighted the complexities related to the identification of copper-arsenic compounds. See Leonardo Pantoja Munoz, “Hidden in Plain Sight: Revisiting the Synthesis, Characterisation, Degradation and the Intricate Relationship Between Scheele’s Green and Emerald Green,” Heritage Science 12, no. 94 (2024): https://doi.org/10.1186/s40494-024-01192-7.
- See note 59 above.
- The presence of the pigments was inferred using the following methods: lead white (SEM/EDX, XRF), zinc white (SEM/EDX, XRF), ultramarine blue (SEM/EDX, XRF, HSI), cobalt blue (XRF, HSI), Prussian blue (FTIR), emerald green (SEM/EDX, XRF, HSI), viridian (SEM/EDX, XRF, HSI), yellow ochre (XRF, HSI), vermillion (SEM/EDX, XRF, HSI), and probable red organic colorant precipitated on a tin-based substrate (SEM/EDX, XRF). A barium-based painting material, possibly barium sulfate, was also used, likely as an extender (SEM/EDX, XRF). Analysis was carried out on selected areas and may not include all pigments present in the painting. See Giovanni Verri, “1926-252_Cezanne_Basket_ARP_XRF-HSI-FTIR_202406,” June 17, 2024, on file in the department of Conservation and Science, Art Institute of Chicago; and Muir, “1926-252_Cezanne_Basket_ARP_SEM_202212.”
- The binding medium was not analyzed. The estimation of an oil medium is based on visual examination, as well as on knowledge of Cezanne’s technique and published analyses of Cezanne’s paintings in other collections. See, for example, Charlotte Hale, “A Template for Experimentation: Cézanne’s Process and the Paintings of Hortense Fiquet,” in Dita Amory et al., Madame Cézanne, exh. cat. (Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2014), 55; and Elisabeth Reissner, “Ways of Making: Practice and Innovation in Cézanne’s Paintings in the National Gallery,” National Gallery Technical Bulletin 29 (2008): 10.
- See index card dated Nov. 3, 1949, on file in the department of Conservation and Science, Art Institute of Chicago.
- Alfred Jakstas, treatment report, Jan. 14, 1966, on file in the department of Conservation and Science, Art Institute of Chicago.
- Allison Langley, treatment report, Feb. 2021, on file in the department of Conservation and Science, Art Institute of Chicago.
- Warman in Rabinow, Cézanne to Picasso, 342.
- See Walter Feilchenfeldt, Jayne Warman, and David Nash, eds., The Paintings, Watercolors and Drawings of Paul Cezanne: An Online Catalogue Raisonné, accessed June 1, 2025, https://www.cezannecatalogue.com/, FWN 860 (hereafter FWN). (B-J 5538.)
- FWN 860. (PC 5775 [5538.] Sent for exhibition 1904.)
- FWN 860.
- Warman in Rabinow, Cézanne to Picasso, 342.
- Warman in Rabinow, Cézanne to Picasso, 342.
- Warman in Rabinow, Cézanne to Picasso, 342.
- Based on inscription on reverse, and until at least 1920. Warman in Rabinow, Cézanne to Picasso, 342; “A Private Collection in Germany That Contains Fourteen Examples of the Art of Paul Cezanne, a Great Modern, Who Already Is Placed with the Old Masters,” New York Times, July 6, 1913, 15; Charles Louis Borgmeyer, The Master Impressionists (Fine Arts, 1913), 230; Galerie Bernheim-Jeune, Exposition Cézanne du 1er au 18 décembre 1920 (Bernheim-Jeune, 1920), no. 28.
- Galerie Paul Rosenberg, Exposition d’œuvres de grands maitres du dix-neuvième siècle (Galerie Paul Rosenberg, 1922), cat. 9, as Le panier de pommes, 1885, lent by Jos. Hessel.
- Warman in Rabinow, Cézanne to Picasso, 342.
Entry by Paul Smith; Technical Report by Kim Muir with Giovanni Verri, “Cat. 10 The Basket of Apples, c. 1893,” in Cezanne Paintings and Watercolors at the Art Institute of Chicago, ed. Gloria Groom and Kim Muir (Art Institute of Chicago, 2026), https://doi.org/10.53269/9780865593251/15. © 2026 by The Art Institute of Chicago. This work is licensed under a CC BY-NC 4.0 license: creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/.