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拍品专文
After the profound shock of the defeat by Prussia in 1871 and the atrocities committed in the name of the Paris Commune, the critic Jules Castagnary, like so many of his compatriots, sought consolation in the works of the French landscape painters on view at the Paris Salon of 1872. ‘Landscape remains the strength and glory of our French school. Although the Jury went through it like a plow through a green field, there are still enough beautiful examples to prove to foreigners that we have not degenerated, at least not in this area'(J. Castagnary, Salons (1857-1870, 1872-1879), ‘Salon de 1872’, vol. 1, Paris, 1892, pp. 26-28).
Executed on a grand scale, Souvenir des dunes de Dunkerque is perhaps one of Corot's 'winter paintings', executed in his studio from studies and memory during the winter months when painting out-of-doors was not possible. Even so, the spontaneous brushwork and luminous effects of this picture attest to the awesome power of the master to evoke a specific time of day with all the harmonious enchantment of nature viewed first-hand. In the present work Corot captures the fading light of evening and the rising darkness over the landscape of Dunkerque. The countryside is spectacularly heighted by the pale pink tinges of the setting sun. The depth of the landscape is deftly created by the placement of the figure of the woman in the right foreground and the man on the rocky outcropping in the middle ground and balanced by the house in the background to the right. This, in conjunction with the light sky juxtaposed against the shadows of twilight in the foreground, creates a rhythm and harmony that is almost musical. The depth of the painting is further enhanced by the brushwork. Corot uses layers of thinly applied glazed and scumbles of browns, greens, blues and grey to create a landscape of surprising complexity which results in the creation of a world of silent peace and serenity. It is this quality in Corot's late landscapes that prompted Théodore de Banville to state, 'This is not a landscape painter, this is the very poet of the landscape...who breathes the sadness and joys of nature... The bond, the great bond that makes us brothers of brooks and trees, he sees it; his figures, as poetic as his forests, are not strangers to the woodland that surrounds them. He knows more than anyone, he has discovered all the customs of boughs and leaves; and now that he is sure that he will not destroy their inner life, he can dispense with all servile imitation' (T. de Banville, 'Le Salon de 1861', Revue fantastique 2, 1 July 1861, pp. 235-236).
Executed on a grand scale, Souvenir des dunes de Dunkerque is perhaps one of Corot's 'winter paintings', executed in his studio from studies and memory during the winter months when painting out-of-doors was not possible. Even so, the spontaneous brushwork and luminous effects of this picture attest to the awesome power of the master to evoke a specific time of day with all the harmonious enchantment of nature viewed first-hand. In the present work Corot captures the fading light of evening and the rising darkness over the landscape of Dunkerque. The countryside is spectacularly heighted by the pale pink tinges of the setting sun. The depth of the landscape is deftly created by the placement of the figure of the woman in the right foreground and the man on the rocky outcropping in the middle ground and balanced by the house in the background to the right. This, in conjunction with the light sky juxtaposed against the shadows of twilight in the foreground, creates a rhythm and harmony that is almost musical. The depth of the painting is further enhanced by the brushwork. Corot uses layers of thinly applied glazed and scumbles of browns, greens, blues and grey to create a landscape of surprising complexity which results in the creation of a world of silent peace and serenity. It is this quality in Corot's late landscapes that prompted Théodore de Banville to state, 'This is not a landscape painter, this is the very poet of the landscape...who breathes the sadness and joys of nature... The bond, the great bond that makes us brothers of brooks and trees, he sees it; his figures, as poetic as his forests, are not strangers to the woodland that surrounds them. He knows more than anyone, he has discovered all the customs of boughs and leaves; and now that he is sure that he will not destroy their inner life, he can dispense with all servile imitation' (T. de Banville, 'Le Salon de 1861', Revue fantastique 2, 1 July 1861, pp. 235-236).