Landscape near Valenciennes 1875

Editor: Berthe Morisot's "Landscape near Valenciennes," painted in 1875, feels surprisingly modern for its time, especially given it’s rendered in oil paint. I’m drawn to how the broad brushstrokes almost dissolve the landscape. What stands out to you in this piece? Curator: Immediately, I consider the materiality of the paint itself. Notice how Morisot isn't trying to disguise the application of the oil; it's frankly, on display. The texture, the thickness in some areas versus the thin washes elsewhere – these weren't accidental. It speaks to a rejection of the highly polished, illusionistic landscapes that were historically favored. How do you think this active revealing of the artistic process was received in the context of late 19th-century France? Editor: I imagine it ruffled some feathers. I suppose academic painting prioritized hiding the labor, whereas Morisot embraces it. It makes me think about artistic autonomy and perhaps the burgeoning role of women artists in shifting these accepted paradigms of labor. Curator: Precisely. Consider the social context too. “En plein air” painting was becoming increasingly popular, yes, but who had the resources, the leisure, and crucially, the *permission* to wander landscapes, setting up an easel? The very act of creating this painting became an assertion of a certain level of freedom and belonging for Morisot. It's not just a pretty scene, it's a document of a lived experience. Editor: So the landscape itself isn't simply a subject, but also a site of production loaded with social implications. Curator: Exactly. By analyzing her materials, process and social conditions, it makes her artwork all the more radical, right? Editor: It does, transforming a seemingly quiet landscape into something incredibly powerful! Curator: Indeed. Viewing artworks with different sets of lenses only heightens their complexities.