Hazen Collection Creates Impression

The expression that great prizes often come in small packages befits the exhibit of paintings from the Joseph B. Hazel Collection at the Fogg Museum of Art. The exhibit shows nearly a dozen gems all contained within one room, sandwiched between galleries of French Romanticism and American Realism. Hazel lent 16 works to the Fogg, but because of a lack of space and the paintings' sensitivity to light, not all of them are displayed. However, these few works can be viewed by appointment.

According to the accompanying exhibit catalog, meticulously written by Sarah Kianovsky, the point of the exhibit is to promote qualitative thinking, comparing the artists' styles and the movements in which they flourished. All of the works were done between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and at first glance, the show seems like a grab-bag from post-Impressionist schools. But after time and questioning ("Why these works?") a cohesiveness develops based on similarities and differences.

On one wall, two Cubist still-lifes are displayed side by side, one by Braque, the other by Picasso. The second canvas is larger--perhaps only a coincidence, but it certainly symbolizes Picasso's overshadowing reputation. Completed within two years of each other and composed of the requisite mandolin, the combination of the two paintings effectively displays each artist's approach to spatial arrangement. Picasso stacks cubist shards on top of each other, conveying height, while Braque tends to deals more with depth, using receding images.

The show contains five Picassos which testify to his productivity and versatility. Picasso was a master at learning styles while infusing them with his own heritage. For example, The Races at Auteull is a creamy confection of Impressionistic and post-Impressionistic techniques. Painted in 1901, around the time when he first moved to Paris, the bright palette of yellows and greens can be likened to the hues of Toulouse-Lautrec's works. In some places, the brushwork is feathery like Renoir's; in other places, it is more deliberate and thick like Van Gogh's. There are three pairs of women twirling about one another, their shapes congealing and dissolving. The trails of their dresses look like mermaid's tails, giving their bodies an organic quality as if they originated in the ground. Only one woman's face is discernible and her expression is decidedly vampish, although she is clad in white and set in nature. It is as if Picasso took a prostitute and placed her en plein air. The result is an intimidating woman with an cerie and wary gaze.

Surprisingly, all the portraits are of women, yet it is not surprising that they were done by men. The men are signified by objects such as musical instruments and bottles. None of the women stare out at the viewer. Even Amedeo Modigliani's Portrait of a Girl, which is the only complete frontal portrait in the show, has eyes covered with aquamarine paint, making her eyeslits seem like precious stones. As girlish as she looks, she seems on the verge of womanhood. Picasso's Woman in a Turkish Costume dissects the sitter and renders her face with the same ostentation as her costume.

But in the exhibit, not all of the women are garish creatures. Toulouse-Lautrec's Absinthe Drinker may be a prostitute, but she possesses a maternal modesty conveyed by her relaxed posture, unassuming clothes and coloring in tonal browns. She's not a redhead, as are many of Toulouse-Lautrec's women, nor does she look embalmed and fluorescent as the harsh lighting of the Moulin Rouge was apt to render its drunk habituees. Absinthe Drinker is a refreshing contrast to Toulouse-Lautrec's unflattering portraits. But here again, the work is not psychologically revealing, because the woman is shown in profile.

Other unexpected delights are Wassily Kandinsky's The Last Judgement (again, more women) and two Legers. Works like these are not represented in any collections in the Boston area, making their presence alone enough reason to visit the exhibit.

Two works not shown that might be displayed later (the exhibit will run well into the first couple of months of 1995) are two still-lifes of oranges by Picasso and the Fauvist Maurice de Vlaminck. If these works were placed side by side like the Picasso and Braque, each one would help enhance the other through their differing uses of color, texture and anthropomorphism.

The crown jewel of the show, though, is a Van Gogh called The Thicket done shortly before he took his own life. Although the catalogue emphasizes the painting's lack of "tragic import," there is a sense of tragedy in the painting if one views the forest as the paradise which evaded Van Gogh during his life. The catalog also states that there is no entry into this forest scene, but under close observation a path can be detected between two trees. The two trees seem to beckon to the viewer, conveying the idea that within the most destitute mind lies some sense of hope.