“Color is where our brain and the universe come together.”

—Cezanne
 

How is it that Cezanne’s paintings would have a ‘wild air’ about them?  Here at Aix-en-Provence where his studio and gardens are nestled in seclusion of a marvelous greenery and foliage is the serenity of life and love; peace and contemplation.

In 1870 Cezanne, fleeing the draft at the time of the Franco-Prussian War, sought refuge in L’Estaque, among the bare rocks and wild terrain in which his friend Emile Zola had spent his youth.  Zola always cherished his memories of this landscape:  “The red earth bleeds, the pines sparkle like emeralds, the brilliant white of freshly washed laundry stands out against the rocks.”  It was here that Cezanne,, discovering the “frightening” sun on the red roofs, the hills, and the sea, wrote to  Pissarro:  “It seems to me that objects stand out in silhouette not only in black and white, but in blue, red, brown, and violet.  I could be mistaken, but this strikes me as the opposite of conventional modeling.”  An important discovery, not only for Cezanne—who would attempt to render the effect created by the perpetual movement of this light over objects solely by means of color rhythms—but for all the painters who followed in the footsteps of the “master from Aix.”

Born in Aix-en-Provence, where he befriended Zola in school, Cezanne abandoned his law studies to go to Paris; but, proud of his Provencal origins, he obstinately retained his southern accent and always returned to “this old native ground that’s so vibrant, so rugged,” to paint precariously perched towns, the twisted trunks of olive trees, and of course Mont Sainte-Victoire, whose secret geometry he was determined to transfigure.  What he sought—and his quest would be rife with implications for the history of painting—was a “harmony parallel to that of nature,” one that, in its focus on individual sensation, was more profoundly faithful to nature than any kind of realism.

Aix en Provence, France
By Olivia Cameo Lewis, 8/2004