First, take a look at this fabulous painting:
Claude Monet’s “The Magpie” – created sometime between 1868-1869
Here’s the story:
Monet decided that he needed to focus on capturing the essence of winter in his paintings in these unusually cold winters of the late 1860s. Other painters were devoted to creating little “sonnets of snow” on their canvases and Monet was inspired by their works.
So. Monet went out in all weather to see what he could see. On one particular occasion sometime in 1868-9, his startled neighbor, writing to a friend, described how he was walking along his property line to check on some trees. Instead, he found the painter, in the dead of winter, painting outside with three greatcoats wrapped on top of each other, a thick scarf, several pairs of (fingerless?) gloves, and a tiny little heater trained on his feet. The neighbor wrote it was “cold enough to split rocks” but still Monet painted on, seemingly oblivious to the conditions, casually wiping off the snow that fell on his canvas.
Why was he out there? Certainly not for the acclaim. Monet, at the time, was still considered a lunatic and his work rejected for salon exhibitions, so paintings like “The Magpie” would not fetch a high price or help gain him acceptance in the art world.
I like to think of Monet as purely inspired in all that he sketched or painted – brilliant artists have always had a vision that extends far beyond the petty limitations of popular society and instead speaks to something far more essential inside all of us. If it wasn’t for his artistic zeal which permitted him to withstand all conditions, criticisms, and those moments of great doubt, would we be able to have such a tangible understanding of the world that once was? Of the country slowly changing from ‘sonnets of snow’ to plumes of railroad smoke? His art was not just for him, but to mark a moment, a lifestyle, a land that is now precious to so many people – dreamers and historians alike.
We certainly want to believe that all artists are as devoted to their craft and surely the great ones still are. But, are there as many dreamers, as many Claude Monets today? Have we become so spoiled that this same painting could be created today from a digital photograph? Does it matter that the sacrifice is not the same? Who is Claude Monet in 2010? I may not have the answers to these questions, but I do have a renewed appreciation for this little bird perched on a gate between the wild countryside and a quiet estate.
