Paul Gauguin (1848­–1903) took pleasure in surrounding himself with his own works, whether or not for the purpose of reusing elements in new projects. On 25 October 1888, just two days after arriving in Arles to live and work with Vincent van Gogh (1853–1890), he wrote to his friend Emile Schuffenecker (1851–1934): 'When you have time, make up a package with the pot with horns that is with [Theo] Van Gogh and the small matt pot that is with you – the one with Cleopatra – and send them to me. We are here in a small, rather charming little house, and I would like to have some pottery to look at.'⁰¹Paul Gauguin, letter to Emile Schuffenecker, 25 October 1888, in Victor Merlhès (ed.), Paul Gauguin et Vincent van Gogh, 1887–1888: Lettres retrouvées, sources ignorées, Taravao 1989, pp. 124–27: ‘Quand vous aurez le temps faites donc un paquet avec le pot à cornes qui est chez Van Gog [sic] et un petit pot mat qui est chez vous avec Cléopâtre et envoyez-les moi? Nous sommes ici dans une petite maison assez gentille et je voudrais avoir devant mes yeux un peu de poterie.’Open footnotes panel Gauguin was referring to two ceramic pots that he had made the previous winter. The whereabouts of the first piece are unknown, but it can be seen in works such as his portrait of Madame Alexandre Kohler (fig. 1Paul Gauguin, Madame Alexandre Kohler, 1887–88, oil on canvas, 46.3 × 38 cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, Chester Dale Collection). The second is the Cleopatra Pot. Gauguin even included small schematic sketches in the letter, for clarification (fig. 2Paul Gauguin, fragment of a letter to Emile Schuffenecker, 25 October 1888, whereabouts unknown). A few weeks later, Van Gogh wrote to his brother confirming that the pots had indeed arrived.⁰²Vincent van Gogh, letter to Theo van Gogh, 11 or 12 November 1888 [719]: ‘He’s had a magnificent pot with 2 rats’ heads sent back from Paris’ (‘Il a fait revenir de Paris un pot magnifique avec 2 tetes de rats’). This refers to the pot whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Nonetheless, it can be assumed that the Cleopatra Pot had also arrived.Open footnotes panel

It may seem surprising that, out of all the works he could have requested, Gauguin chose two small ceramic pots. Yet at that moment, these objects were most closely aligned with his creative ambitions and his identity as an artist. His pots were raw, unpolished, sincere, imaginative and pluriform – qualities that Gauguin sought to associate with both himself and his work. The pots therefore served not only as sources of inspiration but also as aides-mémoires for the ideals he was pursuing. Despite the fact that he was staying in a 'charming' house filled with Van Gogh's work, notwithstanding in a town he considered narrow-minded and bourgeois, the pots were essential in reminding him of who he really was and what he was striving for artistically.⁰³Paul Gauguin, letter to Emile Bernard, third or fourth week of November 1888, in Victor Merlhès (ed.), Correspondance de Paul Gauguin: Documents témoignages: Tome premier, 1873–1888, Paris 1984, no. 182: ‘I am in Arles, feeling completely disoriented, so small and petty do I find both the landscape and the people’ (‘Je suis à Arles tout dépaysé, tellement je trouve tout petit, mesquin, le paysage et les gens’).Open footnotes panel At the same time, through the pots Gauguin could make a statement to Van Gogh about the 'primitive', imaginative and varied qualities of his work. In the Cleopatra Pot, Gauguin brought together a multitude of sources of inspiration and references – a richness he wished to share with his fellow artist.

Cleopatra, a black sheep and pigs

Judging by its title, the pot refers to the legendary Egyptian queen Cleopatra, personified by the woman Gauguin modelled on the vessel. In the nineteenth century, Cleopatra was a vivid symbol of beauty, seduction and desire – fitting seamlessly into both Gauguin's artistic themes and the orientalist fantasies so pervasive in his time. A key source for the fascination with Cleopatra was the novella Une nuit de Cléopâtre (1838) by Théophile Gautier (1811–1872), which Gauguin undoubtedly read. In 1885, Jules Barbier (1825–1901) adapted the story into an opera, which became a sensation in Paris – one Gauguin could hardly have missed.⁰⁴Virtually every newspaper covered it. For weeks before and after the play premiered on 23 April, Le Figaro, for instance, reported on it daily.Open footnotes panel And yet, up to and including 1888, Gauguin never referred to ancient Egypt in any of his letters.⁰⁵Later in his career, he wrote the texts ‘Diverses choses’ (1896–98): ‘The Orientals, the Persians and others, have above all inscribed a complete dictionary of that language of the eye that listens; they have endowed their carpets with a marvellous eloquence. O painters who seek a technique of colour, study the carpets’ (‘Les orientaux, les Persans et autres, ont avant tout imprimé un dictionnaire complet de cette langue de l’œil qui écoute, ils ont doté leurs tapis d’une merveilleuse éloquence. O peintres qui demandent une technique de la couleur, étudiez les tapis’). From the anthology of texts from ‘Diverses choses’, in Paul Gauguin, Oviri: Ecrits d’un sauvage, choisis et presentés par Daniel Guérin, Paris 1974, p. 178. Although this statement primarily concerns Persian carpet art, it clearly demonstrates Gauguin’s interest in art and culture originating from the Middle East, and, by extension, his engagement with orientalism.Open footnotes panel

In the nineteenth century, Cleopatra was frequently depicted in painting, for instance by Eugène Delacroix (1798–1863) in 1838 and by Jean-Léon Gérôme (1824–1904) in 1866.⁰⁶Eugène Delacroix, Cleopatra and the Peasant, 1838, Ackland Art Museum, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill; Jean-Léon Gérôme, Cleopatra and Caesar, 1866, private collection.Open footnotes panel In both works, she is depicted as an alluring figure defined by dark hair, a crown and jewellery. None of these attributes is recognisable in the reclining nude woman on the Cleopatra Pot. The folded fan in her left hand is also not necessarily associated with Cleopatra, although it does carry orientalist connotations and can symbolise both high status and femininity.

It is only because of the previously mentioned letter to Schuffenecker that we know Gauguin intended the woman as Cleopatra. Presumably, Gauguin labelled her as such because he wanted to associate the object with the themes of seduction and desire she evoked. Within this context, the presence of the black sheep next to the reclining woman is also significant, as it can represent sin and impurity. Gauguin reinforced this symbolic meaning by adding two pigs in low relief on the other side of the pot (fig. 3Back of Cleopatra Pot). In Gauguin's iconography, pigs stood for lust and sensual pleasures.⁰⁷See Daniel Wildenstein, Sylvie Crussard and Martine Heudron (hereafter Crussard 2001), Gauguin: Premier itinéraire d’un sauvage: Catalogue de l’oeuvre peint (1873–1888), 2 vols., Milan 2001, vol. 2, p. 530.Open footnotes panel After he received the Cleopatra Pot in Arles, Gauguin also depicted pigs in the painting The Pigs or In the Heat of the Day (1888, private collection), which he imbued with a similar symbolism.⁰⁸See illustration 1 in the entry Study of a Woman Seen from the Back by Gauguin.Open footnotes panel

Hope

Although the woman on the pot represents Cleopatra, Gauguin borrowed the motif of the nude woman posed in profile from the painting Hope by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes (1824–1898) (fig. 4Pierre Puvis de Chavannes, Hope, 1871–72, oil on canvas, 70.5 × 82.2 cm, Musée d’Orsay, Paris. Photo: © GrandPalaisRmn (Musée d'Orsay) / Hervé Lewandowski). Painted in 1872, it serves as an allegory of recovery and renewal following the Franco-Prussian War and the subsequent Paris Commune. The woman in the painting appears polished like a classical statue, suggesting flawlessness and purity; she is the embodiment of a new beginning. In her hand she holds an olive branch, the symbol of peace. The painting was on view in November and December 1887 as part of a monographic exhibition at Paul Durand-Ruel's gallery in Paris, just before the Cleopatra Pot was created.⁰⁹Exposition de tableaux, pastels, dessins par M. Puvis de Chavannes, Paris, Galerie Durand Ruel, 20 November–20 December 1887, no. 30 (L’Espérance).Open footnotes panel Gauguin had returned from Martinique on 14 November that year and certainly saw the exhibition; he was an ardent admirer of Puvis de Chavannes's work. Yet, in the iconography of his Cleopatra Pot Gauguin gave Puvis's woman an entirely different meaning. He took a symbol of purity and transformed it into an allegory of seduction. The contradiction between form and content creates an ambiguity that Gauguin often sought in his work.

Like Gauguin, Van Gogh truly valued the work of Puvis de Chavannes. He too had seen Hope at the Durand-Ruel exhibition and had been deeply moved by it. In his correspondence, Van Gogh referred to the painting several times in connection with expressing hope for the future.¹⁰See letters [611], [694], [743] and [765].Open footnotes panel In a letter to Gauguin, sent just before the latter joined him in Arles, Van Gogh even referred to Hope to convey his optimistic expectations for their future collaboration.¹¹Vincent van Gogh, letter to Paul Gauguin, 3 October 1888 [695].Open footnotes panel Van Gogh's opinion of Hope undoubtedly influenced Gauguin when he later requested the Cleopatra Pot from Schuffenecker after arriving in Arles. For although both artists held the painting in high regard, Van Gogh's appreciation aligned with Puvis de Chavannes's original intentions, whereas Gauguin reinterpreted the motif for his own symbolic purposes. In doing so, Gauguin demonstrated how an artist could detach motifs from their meaning, medium or form, and repurpose them according to their own vision within a new and imaginary work. For Van Gogh – an artist who always remained faithful to reality – this approach must have had a shocking yet expansive impact. The Cleopatra Pot made clear that Gauguin's approach to art and creativity differed fundamentally from that of Van Gogh; while this difference continued to provide inspiration, it also led to debate, until their artistic principles ultimately proved irreconcilable.

Tree of Life

Characteristic of his artistry, Gauguin succeeded in integrating even more references into the Cleopatra Pot. Between the pigs, he placed what appears to be a Tree of Life – a powerful symbol found in many cultures of the world, and one that aligned well with Gauguin's eclectic, primitivist approach to his ceramic objects (see fig. 3Back of Cleopatra Pot). The tree can symbolise interconnectedness, wisdom, spirituality and the cycle of life. The rays of a rising or setting sun beneath the tree carry similar meanings. This combination of tree and sunrays also appears on the reverse of Vase with Bather and Sunset (fig. 5Paul Gauguin, Vase with Bather and Sunset, 1887–88, unglazed stoneware, modelled decoration, with slip and gilded highlights, 13.1 × 15.1 × 11.6 cm, Musée d’Orsay, Paris. Photo: © GrandPalaisRmn (Musée d'Orsay) / Hervé Lewandowski). On both objects, Gauguin incised the sunrays into the clay in the same manner. In essence, this theme accords more with Puvis de Chavannes's painting than with the connotations of lust and seduction that Gauguin had assigned to the Cleopatra Pot. As with the tension between the symbolism of Hope and Cleopatra, we find competing meanings, which further heighten the object's ambiguity. This emphasis on equivocacy first fully revealed itself in the group of ceramic objects Gauguin created after returning from his stay in Martinique (June–October 1887), to which the Cleopatra Pot also belongs.

Martinique

While some of these objects refer quite directly to Martinique – such as Portrait-Head of Martinique Woman with Kerchief (fig. 6Paul Gauguin, Portrait-Head of Martinique Woman with Kerchief, 1887–88, unglazed stoneware, decorated with slip, 22 × 13.2 × 17.5 cm, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen. Photo: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen / Ole Haupt) – the true lesson of Gauguin's time on the island would seem to lie in his incorporation and diversification of cultural signifiers within his artistic practice.¹²June Hargrove, ‘“… un art de Caraïbes”: The Impact of Martinique on Gauguin’s Sculptural Practice’, in Joost van der Hoeven (ed.), Van Gogh Museum Studies 3: Gauguin and Laval in Martinique, forthcoming.Open footnotes panel While this is scarcely visible in the paintings he produced there, in Martinique Gauguin was confronted with a far more diverse population than he might have expected. At the time, Martinique was a place where people from all corners of the world arrived – voluntarily or otherwise – in search of work.¹³Alastair Wright, ‘Between the Lycée and the Plantation: Gauguin, Martinique’s Modernity and the Negotiation of Race’, in Van Dijk, forthcoming.Open footnotes panel The reality of the island was therefore much more multifaceted than the generally stereotypical and idealised colonial visualisations of the Caribbean would suggest. This encounter may well have contributed to the wide range of ceramic work Gauguin produced immediately after his time there. For instance, the figure on the front of the Cleopatra Pot appears to have a headscarf like those traditionally worn by women in Martinique – a symbol of Afro-Caribbean culture that Gauguin integrated into a broader composition of diverse cultural signifiers. The short sides of the pot are decorated with arabesques that seem loosely derived from Arabic script (fig. 7Side view of Cleopatra Pot and fig. 8Side view of Cleopatra Pot). Although Gauguin sought to align himself with these cultures by eclectically combining and blending diverse visual elements, he ultimately reinforced the imperialist mindset embedded in much of his work. The ability to freely select and appropriate different visual languages was, after all, a privilege rooted in a Eurocentric, colonial world order – one granted exclusively to European artists.

Aside from the Cleopatra Pot, Gauguin's eclecticism is also evident in works such as Vase in the Form of a Tropical Plant with Bird and Deity (fig. 9Paul Gauguin, Vase in the Form of a Tropical Plant with Bird and Deity, 1887–88, stoneware, decorated with slip and gold, 21.5 × 17 × 12 cm, The Art Institute of Chicago), created during the same period. Its shape resembles a papaya tree, which Gauguin had frequently seen and painted in Martinique. Meanwhile, the goose and the woman depicted on the front and back of the vase's base refer respectively to rural life in Brittany and to a Tevada – a Cambodian deity often featured in the decoration of Khmer temples. The latter may have been known to Gauguin through engravings and photographs.¹⁴Dario Gamboni, ‘Gauguin, Cat. 7, Vase in Form of Plant (2011.306): Commentary’, in Gloria Groom and Genevieve Westerby (eds.), Gauguin Paintings, Sculpture, and Graphic Works at the Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago 2016, para 7–9.Open footnotes panel

Two winters with Chaplet

The diversity of the decoration on the Cleopatra Pot demonstrates how Gauguin's far-ranging interests and experiences found expression through his three-dimensional work. The sources of inspiration for the form and technique of the pot were equally diverse. Nevertheless, two key factors had the greatest influence on the appearance of all Gauguin's ceramic pots: his collaboration with the ceramicist Ernest Chaplet (1835–1909), and the example of Pre-Columbian Peruvian pottery.

Gauguin's collaboration with Chaplet first took shape in the winter of 1886–87, a year before the Cleopatra Pot was created, and came about through the mediation of the artist Félix Bracquemond (1833–1914), a consummate networker and the artistic director at the Haviland porcelain manufactory. The impetus for Bracquemond's initiative was La Toilette (Musée d'Art Moderne et Contemporain, Strasbourg), a wooden sculpture created by Gauguin in 1882 and presented at the eighth and final Impressionist exhibition in May and June 1886. Bracquemond was so impressed that he decided to introduce Gauguin to Chaplet, who was under contract with Haviland. The idea was for Chaplet's utilitarian ceramics to be decorated by Gauguin – something all parties expected would prove financially successful.¹⁵Paul Gauguin, letter to Mette Gauguin, first half of June 1886, in Merlhès 1984, no. 99: ‘The engraver Braquemont [sic] enthusiastically bought a painting by me for 250 francs and put me in touch with a ceramicist who intends to produce artistic vases. Captivated by my sculpture, he has begged me to make things for him this winter according to my own ideas, saying we would share the profits half-and-half when they were sold. Perhaps this will be a major source of income in the future’ (‘Mr. Braquemont [sic] le graveur m’a acheté avec enthousiasme un tableau 250 f et m’a mis en relations avec un céramiste qui compte faire des vases d’art. Enchanté de ma sculpture il m’a prié de lui faire à mon gré cet hiver des travaux qui vendus seraient partagés de moitié. Peut-être est-ce dans l’avenir une grande ressource’).Open footnotes panel It was a real opportunity for Gauguin, who had been exploring sculpture since the late 1870s but had never worked with clay. He seized upon the project, not least because it offered hope of a steady income.¹⁶For the entire sequence of events, see Christopher Gray, Sculpture and Ceramics of Paul Gauguin, Baltimore 1963, pp. 5–13; Merete Bodelsen, Gauguin’s Ceramics: A Study in the Development of his Art, London and Copenhagen 1964, pp. 11–14; Anne-Birgitte Fonsmark, ‘A Painter-Sculptor Makes Ceramics,’ in Richard R. Brettell and Anne-Birgitte Fonsmark, Gauguin and Impressionism, exh. cat., Copenhagen (Ordrupgaard) / Fort Worth (Kimbell Art Museum), New Haven and London 2005, pp. 289–97; Dario Gamboni, ‘Gauguin’s Monstrosities’, in Gloria Groom (ed.), Gauguin: Artist as Alchemist, exh. cat., Chicago (Art Institute of Chicago) / Paris (Grand Palais), Chicago 2017, p. 106.Open footnotes panel

In the years leading up to their collaboration, Chaplet had played a significant role in the renewed appreciation for unglazed earthenware and stoneware. Until then, French taste dictated that such materials should always be painted or glazed. Inspired especially by Japanese ceramics – which had been introduced to France at the Exposition Universelle of 1878 – Chaplet developed a fondness for the deep reddish-brown colour and coarse texture of earthenware and stoneware (fig. 10Ernest Chaplet, Vase (One of a Pair) with Japanese-inspired Decoration, 1883–85, chamois stoneware, decorated with coloured slip and gold, 41 × 19 × 14 cm, Musée d’Orsay, Paris. Photo: © GrandPalaisRmn (Musée d'Orsay) / Tony Querrec). He combined this new-found interest with his own invented methods of decoration and glazing.¹⁷Jean d’Albis, Ernest Chaplet 1835–1909, Paris 1976, pp. 9–16.Open footnotes panel Located at 153 rue Blomet in the Vaugirard district of Paris, Chaplet's workshop thus proved to be an ideal – if not the only – place for Gauguin to develop himself as a ceramicist.

At the workshop in late 1886, Gauguin decorated a few already completed vases, but the bulk of his time and energy was devoted to creating his own ceramic pots. Under the guidance of the master ceramicist, he was able to successfully decorate, glaze and fire them. This effort grew into a full-blown campaign that occupied much of the winter of 1886–87. When this intense period of creation came to an end in early 1887, Gauguin wrote to Bracquemond: 'If you are curious to see all the newly fired little products of my great madness, then it is now – 55 pieces in good order. You will undoubtedly cry out at the sight of these monstrosities, but I am sure they will interest you.'¹⁸Paul Gauguin, letter to Félix Bracquemond, late 1886 or early 1887, in Merlhès 1984, no. 116: ‘Si vous êtes curieux de voir sortis du four tous les petits produits de mes hautes folies, c’est prêt. 55 pièces en bon état. Vous allez jeter les grands cris devant ces monstruosités mais je suis convaincu que cela vous intéressera.’Open footnotes panel Gauguin was clearly proud of his objects, whose character defied all norms and reference points, such as the Vase with Medallion (fig. 11Paul Gauguin, Vase with Medallion, 1886–87, unglazed reddish stoneware, decorated with white and blue-black slip, 24.5 × 15.5 × 12.5 cm, Designmuseum Denmark, Copenhagen. Photo: Pernille Klemp).¹⁹Paul Gauguin, letter to Mette Gauguin, 26 December 1886, in Merlhès 1984, no. 115: ‘Je fais de la sculpture céramique Schuff dit que ce sont des chefs-d’œuvre.’Open footnotes panel

It will come as little surprise that Gauguin's 'monstrosities' ultimately proved unsellable. '[They are] probably too artistic', he confessed to his wife.²⁰Ibid.: ‘C’est probablement trop artistique pour être vendu.’Open footnotes panel He was, it seemed, too independent to work within the framework of applied art. Bracquemond was not particularly enthusiastic about the objects either, which meant an end to Gauguin's collaboration with Chaplet.²¹Bracquemond reportedly confided to Camille Pissarro that he considered it ‘sailor’s art’, referring to the eclecticism of the objects created by a traveller drawing inspiration from all corners of the world. In Gauguin’s case, this was not untrue: earlier in his life, he had indeed been a sailor, which made him extensively well travelled. See Camille Pissarro, letter to Lucien Pissarro, 23 January 1887, in Janine Bailly-Herzberg, Correspondance de Camille Pissarro, 5 vols., Paris 1980–91, vol. 2: 1886–1890 (1986), no. 387: ‘Il [Bracquemond] m’a dit qu’il y a quelques modèles qu’il [Gauguin] a faits qui étaient bien, mais d’autres qui n’avait rien; somme toute, il a eu l’air de me dire que c’était de l’art de matelot, pris un peu partout.’Open footnotes panel This was one of the reasons why, on 10 April 1887, Gauguin left for Panama – ultimately ending up in Martinique – together with the painter Charles Laval (1862–1894), in search of a new beginning, fresh inspiration, and with the aim of 'living like a savage'.²²Paul Gauguin, letter to Mette Gauguin, late March 1887, in Merlhès 1984, no. 122: ‘Je m’en vais à Panama pour vivre en sauvage.’Open footnotes panel

Interestingly, it was primarily Gauguin's ceramics that prompted him to return to Paris after four months in Martinique. Two months into his stay on the island, he received word from Laval that someone had visited Chaplet's workshop, seen his sculptures, and, impressed with what he saw, had bought two pieces.²³Paul Gauguin, letter to Emile Schuffenecker, 25 August 1887, in Merlhès 1984, no. 131: ‘Laval has received fairly good news from Paris regarding me. You know that a gentleman came to buy pots at Chaplet’s. He was very enthusiastic about them and did a lot of promotion within his circle, which must have led to further purchases’ (‘Laval a reçu d'assez bonnes nouvelles de Paris me concernant. Vous savez qu'un Monsieur était venu acheter des pots chez Chapelet. Il en a été très enthousiaste et a fait beaucoup de propagande dans son milieu qui a dû en acheter d'autres’).Open footnotes panel The buyer turned out to be the wealthy sociologist Albert Dauprat (1857–1921), a friend of both Laval and his brother Eugène (1859–1928).²⁴See Merlhès 1984, p. 465.Open footnotes panel That Dauprat not only made the purchase but also reportedly intended to invest in a renewed collaboration between Gauguin and Chaplet gave Gauguin every reason to hasten his return. In a letter to Schuffenecker, in which he claimed that Dauprat was prepared to invest '20,000 to 25,000 francs', Gauguin pleaded for money to fund his journey home.²⁵Paul Gauguin, letter to Emile Schuffenecker, 25 August 1887, in Merlhès 1984, no. 131: ‘Moreover, it seems that I pleased him greatly; apparently, he would be willing to sponsor me with 20 or 25,000 francs to form a partnership with Chaplet. Under these circumstances, we could establish an excellent workshop, and I would have a modest but secure daily income. Furthermore, the future could bring us promising results. Given these conditions, I feel the need to return’ (‘En outre, il paraît que je lui ai plu énormément; il serait disposé paraît-il à me commanditer de 20 ou 25 000' pour m’associer avec Chapelet [sic]. Dans ces conditions on ferait une excellente maison et j’aurai [sic] le pain de chaque jour assuré modestement mais assuré. En outre l’avenir pourrait nous donner de beaux résultats. Dans ces conditions j’ai besoin de rentrer’).Open footnotes panel

When he arrived in Paris in mid–November, it became clear that although Dauprat had placed an order, no substantial investment had materialised. Additionally, Gauguin faced the news that Chaplet had decided to hand over his workshop to another ceramicist, Auguste Delaherche (1857–1940). Nevertheless, that winter Gauguin still spent several days a week at the rue Blomet, which allowed him to initiate a second sculptural phase and to glaze and fire his new ceramic objects under supervision.²⁶Paul Gauguin, letter to Mette Gauguin, 24 November 1887, in Merlhès 1984, no. 136: ‘On returning here, I found a modest sponsorship offered by one of my admirers who had purchased some of my pots. It was intended to form a partnership with Chaplet, which would have allowed me to earn a living and, I believe, create a future for all of us, particularly in the artistic aspect, which I understand very well. But then – bang! – Mr Chaplet withdrew to live off his small income. Yet another thing that escapes me’ (‘En revenant ici je trouve une petite commandite offerte par un de ceux qui m’admirent et qui m’avait acheté des pots. Elle était établie pour m’associer avec Chaplet ce qui m’aurait permis de gagner ma vie et faire je crois une situation dans l'avenir pour nous tous, et dans une partie (la partie artistique) que je comprends très bien. Vlan ! M. Chaplet s’est retiré pour vivre de ses petites rentes. Encore une chose qui m’échappe’). On the takeover of the workshop by Delaherche and the fact that Chaplet continued to work there regularly, see Albis 1976, p. 49.Open footnotes panel It is also possible that Delaherche assisted him.²⁷In a sketchbook that Gauguin primarily used in 1888, he noted the name of Auguste Delaherche, followed by the old address of Chaplet’s workshop: 153 rue Blomet. See the ‘Carnet Huyghe’, p. 214, The Israel Museum, Jerusalem. The ‘Carnet Huyghe’ is the sketchbook Gauguin used when staying with Van Gogh in Arles. It was published by René Huyghe in 1952 in facsimile under the title Le Carnet de Paul Gauguin. The pages of the sketchbook are numbered.Open footnotes panel The collaboration appears to have been somewhat less intensive than in the previous winter: while the initial total is unknown, around 20 pots from this second campaign survive today, including the Cleopatra Pot, compared to approximately 33 from the first.²⁸No exhaustive research has been conducted for this entry on the total number of currently known ceramics by Gauguin. The figures are based on the catalogue Bodelsen 1964 (see note 16, above), supplemented by about six vases unknown to Bodelsen that were included in the Chicago/Paris 2017 exhibition: see Groom 2017.Open footnotes panel

The second campaign further distinguished itself from the first by an even greater emphasis on experimentation with decoration, glazing and firing, as well as a more eclectic approach to form and subject matter. In 1886–87, Gauguin's sculptures still primarily referenced Breton themes, based on sketches he had made in Pont-Aven in the summer of 1886. During the second campaign, however, he expanded his range to include influences from his trip to Martinique, recently visited exhibitions and anthropological photographs of monuments such as Borobudur on Java.²⁹Regarding the use of a photograph of Borobudur, see Bodelsen 1964, pp. 79, 88–89. The work in which this source of inspiration is incorporated is Pot Decorated with a Figure of a Woman under a Tree, 1887–88, Musée d’Orsay, Paris. Bodelsen dates the vase to 1886–87, but this has since been revised to 1887–88. For the influence of Gauguin’s stay in Martinique on his sculptural practice, see Hargrove in Van der Hoeven, forthcoming.Open footnotes panel

Peru

Although Gauguin was happy for his ceramic pots to be understood as the product of 'great madness', he must have approached their creation in a deliberate and purposeful manner, despite his initial lack of experience with the medium. While collaboration with Chaplet was essential to his ability to produce ceramic sculptures during the winters of 1886–87 and 1887–88, ultimately it was the example of Pre-Columbian Peruvian ceramics that determined their form. Gauguin had spent the first five years of his life in Peru, living with the aristocratic family of his mother, Aline Gauguin (née Chazal, 1825–1867). This early experience, and his familial connection to Peruvians (albeit descendants of Spanish colonists), provided Gauguin with a lifelong claim to his self-styled identity as a 'savage from Peru'. Of all the ceramic traditions he drew upon, it was likely this identification with Peru that made Pre-Columbian Peruvian pots the most important source of inspiration for him.

In Paris, Gauguin had several authentic examples at hand. In Avant et après, his memoir written in 1903, Gauguin praised a group of pots that his mother had brought back from Peru, which unfortunately were lost in a fire during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870 and were never documented.³¹Paul Gauguin, Avant et après, 1903, p. 110: ‘My mother had also kept a few Peruvian vases and especially quite a number of figurines in solid silver, just as it comes out of the mines. They all disappeared in the burning of St. Cloud by the Prussians. Along with quite a considerable library and almost all of our family papers.’ (‘Ma mère aussi avait conservé quelques vases péruviens et surtout pas mal de figurines en argent massif tel qu’il sort de la mine. Le tout a disparu dans l’incendie de Saint-Cloud, allumé par les Prussiens. Une bibliothèque assez importante et dans tout cela presque tous nos papiers de famille.’). The complete manuscript can be accessed on the website of The Courtauld Gallery in London.Open footnotes panel Gauguin had access to the much more extensive collection of Gustave Arosa, Aline Gauguin's wealthy 'protector' who, following his mother's untimely death, became Gauguin's guardian. Arosa's ceramics collection included a wide array of objects, among them several Peruvian pots. Photographs of some of these vessels, taken by Arosa himself, appear in Histoire de la céramique by Auguste Demmin (1817–1898) (fig. 12Photograph by Gustave Arosa, Céramiques Américaines, in August Demmin, Histoire de la céramique en planches phototypiques inaltérables, avec texte explicatif, 2 vols., pl. XIII, 1875, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Paris). The photographed works include examples from the Moche civilisation of northern Peru (150–800 AD).³²Barbara Braun, ‘Paul Gauguin’s Indian Identity: How Ancient Peruvian Pottery Inspired his Art’, Art History 9, no. 1 (March 1986), p. 37.Open footnotes panel Of all the ceramic traditions Gauguin might have encountered, Moche pottery bears the closest resemblance to his own in terms of material, colour, aesthetics and the fusion of form and function – including the Cleopatra Pot.³³Braun 1986, p. 41. See also Hugo C. Ikehara-Tsukayama, Dawn Kriss and Joanne Pillsbury, ‘Containing the Divine: Ancient Peruvian Pots’, The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin (Spring 2023), pp. 44–45.Open footnotes panel

In addition to the private collections close to home, Gauguin was able to study many more examples of Pre-Columbian ceramics at the Musée Ethnographique du Trocadéro, which opened in 1878. Hundreds of Moche civilisation artefacts were held there, including the Vase à décor zoomorphe (fig. 13Vase à décor zoomorphe, 100 BC–AD 700, rose terracotta, white paint, 17.1 × 12.4 × 15.8 cm, Musée du Quai Branly-Jacques Chirac, Paris. Photo: © Musée du Quai Branly - Jacques Chirac, Dist. GrandPalaisRmn). Apart from what was seen to be the 'primitive' aesthetics of the material, ornamentation and decoration, Gauguin was also influenced by the actual crafting of Pre-Columbian ceramics. He went against European practices by refusing to throw his pots on a potter's wheel, instead modelling all his objects entirely by hand. Reflecting back in 1895, he wrote: 'My goal was […] to replace the potter at his wheel by intelligent hands which could impart the life of a face to a vase and yet remain true to the character of the material used.'³⁴Paul Gauguin, ‘A propos de Sèvres et du dernier four’, Le Soir, 23 April 1895: ‘Transformer l’éternel vase grec (compliqué aujourd’hui de japonisme et d’orfèvrerie Christophle [sic]), remplacer le tourneur par des mains intelligentes qui puissent communiquer au vase la vie d’une figure, tout en restant dans la charactère de la matière.’ Translation published in Daniel Guérin, The Writings of a Savage, New York 1978, p. 106.Open footnotes panel Remaining faithful to the material was a fundamental principle for Gauguin and helps explain why he considered hand-modelling appropriate for a 'primitive' material such as clay. He even connected the shaping of clay forms to the creation story, in which God fashioned man from clay, thereby elevating the act to an existential one and himself as an artist to a divine status: 'In the remotest times, among the American Indians, the art of pottery making was always popular. God made man out of a little clay.'³⁵Paul Gauguin, ‘Notes sur l’art à l’exposition universelle,’ Le Moderniste Illustré 1 ([part 1] 4 July 1889), p. 86: ‘Aux époques les plus reculées, chez les Indiens de l’Amérique, on trouve cet art constamment en faveur. Dieu fit l’homme avec un peu de boue.’ Translation published in Guérin 1978, p. 30.Open footnotes panel

Technique³⁶This section was produced in collaboration with the Van Gogh Museum scientists Sophie Vullings and Ana Martins, ceramic restorer Sabine Westerhuis and ceramic artist Jeroen Bechtold. The object was analysed by Sabine Westerhuis on 4 March and by Jeroen Bechtold on 25 March 2025. On 14 April 2025 the object was analysed with portable X-ray fluorescence (pXRF) by Sophie Vullings in order to identify the chemical elements present and the composition of the clay, glazes and colourants (for further details see Sophie Vullings, Ana Martins, René Boitelle and Joost van der Hoeven, v0037V1978_pXRF_20250414_report_v20250830, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, 2025). I am very grateful to all for sharing their expertise.Open footnotes panel

With such associations in mind, Gauguin began modelling the Cleopatra Pot during the winter of 1887–88, using stoneware clay, which would have been available in Chaplet's workshop.³⁷Based on the sound and touch of the object, Jeroen Bechtold identified the material as stoneware. The type of clay extracted in the vicinity of Paris – and likely available in Chaplet’s workshop – was also stoneware clay. All of Gauguin’s ceramic works from this period are recognized as stoneware: see Groom 2017.Open footnotes panel The pot, rectangular and flaring outwards on all sides, was constructed from several pieces of rolled-out and trimmed clay, joined together with slip (clay diluted with water). Gauguin started with the base, then added the section with the rectangular band, followed by the piece above it. The top was then placed separately; the holes were modelled by hand (fig. 14Top view of Cleopatra Pot). The walls of the vessel are exceptionally thin throughout. Thanks to the strong internal molecular structure of fired stoneware, the pot remains sturdy despite this delicacy.

The three-dimensional decorations were not modelled from the body of the pot but added after the basic form had been completed. They were made using separate pieces of clay attached securely with slip. This is evident in some of the decorations such as the black sheep to the right of the woman, the plant shapes to the left and the tree's crown on the opposite side where small gaps can be seen between the body of the pot and the ornamentation. The leaf shapes flanking the woman appear to have been made using a mould before being individually affixed to the object. All decorative forms, as well as the top, were likely made from the same type of stoneware clay as the body of the pot.³⁸After firing, the object would be expected to shrink by 5 to 6% due to the melting and glass formation that results from the kiln’s heat. The shrinkage factor is specific to the clay, so in order to avoid cracking in the kiln it was essential that Gauguin used the same clay for both the pot and the decorations.Open footnotes panel The reclining woman appears glossier and darker in tone than the base of the pot, probably due to the use of slip or glaze.³⁹Another hypothesis for the darker hue is that the added clay was mixed with a colourant. This would also apply to the top part of the pot.Open footnotes panel Gauguin attached her arms separately. Shrinkage of the clay, either during firing or as the unbaked pot dried, is the probable cause of a small crack visible in the woman's right armpit.

After modelling and decorating, the object underwent a first firing at a temperature between 1150 and 1300°C. This took place in an oxidising atmosphere, meaning the kiln had an opening allowing a continuous supply of oxygen. As a result, the iron minerals in the stoneware clay oxidised, giving the fired Cleopatra Pot its reddish hue.⁴⁰pXRF measurements of the clay body revealed a relatively high iron (Fe) content (measurements by Vullings, 2025). The oxidation of the iron during firing is responsible for the reddish hue.Open footnotes panel

After the first firing, Gauguin applied his glazes and colourants. To the naked eye, roughly four colours can be distinguished on the pot: black (or very dark blue), green, blue and gold. In ceramics, colourants are usually metal oxides or salts, commonly applied either in slip or mixed into a glaze. After application, the vessel must be fired again. To determine which colourants Gauguin might have used, specific points on the surface of the vessel were analysed with by pXRF.⁴¹Not all colours were included in the scope of the pXRF analysis (the light blue beneath the reclining woman, for example, was not analysed). Other chemical elements relating to the composition of the clay and constituents of the glazes, namely the vitrifier, fluxes, stabilizers and other additives, were also detected.Open footnotes panel Elements characteristic of various metal oxides or salts were detected, suggesting he had access to a range of colourants at Chaplet's studio, which he used freely.

Beginning with the black or very dark blue tones, these can be seen on the sheep, in the tracings of the pseudo-Arabic script on the sides of the pot (see fig. 7Side view of Cleopatra Pot and fig. 8Side view of Cleopatra Pot) and in various lines on its upper surface (see fig. 14Top view of Cleopatra Pot). A striking finding from the analysis of these 'black' areas is that the composition of the colourants differs. For instance, cobalt (the colourant used to achieve blue to dark blue shades) as well as manganese (violet to black) were detected on the sheep, whereas the lines on the upper surface also contain chromium (green), and in the script tracings only cobalt is detected. Moreover, there are indications of the presence of a glaze on the sheep and the lines, while the script tracings appear to have been added after moulding the pot and before the first firing.⁴²Regarding the glaze on the sheep: elements detected by pXRF suggest the presence of a flux (measurements by Vullings, 2025). Regarding the tracings: the colourant in the script tracings appears to have seeped into the clay surface, suggesting that it was applied to a dried but unfired vessel. Moreover, no elements typically associated with a glaze (vitrifier, flux or stabilizer) were detected in that area by pXRF (measurements by Vullings, 2025).Open footnotes panel These observations suggest an unorthodox approach to colouring a ceramic vessel – entirely in keeping with Gauguin's experimental attitude toward ceramics.

Unlike the black passages on the sides, the lines at the top form part of a chaotic network of decorations applied over a dark brown layer similar to that of the reclining woman. The application appears improvisational and experimental, possibly involving multiple layers and firings. Among the colours, emerald green can be distinguished, containing cobalt, copper (turquoise) and chromium. Analysis of the leaves flanking the reclining woman indicates that, unlike the varied blacks, this green appears to be the same mix of colourants Gauguin employed for the green at the top of the pot.

After applying the black, blue and green colourants and firing the pot again, Gauguin carried out the final step: the application of gold paint to selected areas, including around the openings of the pot and behind the woman's head.⁴³The presence of gold was confirmed by the pXRF analysis (measurements by Vullings, 2025).Open footnotes panel Because gold paint can only be fired at a lower temperature (around 780° C) it had to be added last. It appears on both glazed and unglazed surfaces, for example on parts of the top of the pot, and the Tree of Life, respectively (see fig. 3Back of Cleopatra Pot). In the former area, Gauguin applied the gold in fine hatched strokes. He also used it to highlight the edges of the smaller openings of the pot and to inscribe his distinctive monogram, 'PGo', on the front.⁴⁴Gauguin used his monogram ‘PGo’ for much of his ceramic production both during the winters of 1887–88 and 1886–87. Interestingly, he only began using this monogram on his paintings in early 1888. See Crussard 2001, vol. 2, p. 374.Open footnotes panel

Signing a ceramic pot on the side was unusual; potters such as Chaplet and Aubé traditionally signed on the underside. Gauguin disregarded this custom, consistent with his overall unconventional approach to ceramics. Moreover, he did not shy away from imperfections and deformations; in fact, he found them fascinating. The longer a piece remained in the kiln – or 'the hell', as Gauguin called it – the more unpredictable and less polished its final appearance became.⁴⁵Paul Gauguin, ‘Notes sur l’art à l’exposition universelle,’ Le Moderniste Illustré 1, ([part 2] 13 July 1889), p. 91: ‘La matière sortie du feu revêt donc le caractère de la fournaise et devient donc plus grave, plus sérieuse à mesure qu’elle passe par l’enfer. Aussi toutes ces saloperies exposées, parce qu’une légère cuisson est plus coquette et plus facile à faire.’ Translation published in Guérin 1978, p. 31: ‘So the substance that emerges from the fire takes on the character of the kiln and thus becomes graver, more serious the longer it stays in Hell. Hence all the junk on exhibit – because a brief firing is more stylish and easier to do.’Open footnotes panel

Visual documentation

During the winter of 1887–88, Gauguin documented several ceramic sculptures by making quick drawings of them in a large-format sketchbook now known as the Album Briand.⁴⁶This album is part of the Musée d’Orsay collection but is kept in the Cabinet des Dessins at the Louvre, under inventory number RF 30273.Open footnotes panel He also copied into this sketchbook certain motifs from works he had created in Martinique.⁴⁷See Joost van der Hoeven, ‘Martinique Visualized’, in Maite van Dijk and Joost van der Hoeven (eds.), Gauguin and Laval in Martinique, exh. cat., Amsterdam (Van Gogh Museum), Bussum 2018, p. 98.Open footnotes panel On one of the pages is a small chalk drawing of the Cleopatra Pot (fig. 15Paul Gauguin, Study Sheet with Ceramic Pots from the Album Briand, 1887–88, black chalk on paper, 34.3 × 22.8 cm, Musée d’Orsay, Paris. Photo: © GrandPalaisRmn (Musée d'Orsay) / Adrien Didierjean), its confident hand, deft lines and three-dimensionality indicating that the drawing was made after the pot was completed. The page also features a plant motif, a goose, and two women in Breton attire, one with raised arms. This latter motif also appears in a sketch of a pot on the same page. This sketch cannot be identified with any known existing object. However, the Breton woman with raised arms does feature on four other ceramic vessels.⁴⁸For these four works, see Fonsmark, in Brettell and Fonsmark 2005, nos. 66–68, pp. 312–15.Open footnotes panel In contrast, another sketch, in the middle of the page, can be linked to the Vase with Motifs from Cézanne's La Moisson (1886–87, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen). Christopher Gray and Anne-Birgitte Fonsmark date this pot to 1886–87, which would suggest that objects from different campaigns were recorded on the same sketch sheet. This is entirely plausible: the objects Gauguin made together with Chaplet in 1886–87 were half-owned by Chaplet and therefore kept in his workshop.⁴⁹The two vases that Albert Dauprat purchased in the summer of 1887 were also bought from Chaplet’s workshop.Open footnotes panel Since most of them remained unsold, the majority of that production was likely still in the workshop when Gauguin returned the following winter. Thus, he could have also drawn previously made pots at that time.

The same applies to another sketch page featuring the Cleopatra Pot, in what is known as the Rouen Sketchbook or Breton Sketchbook (fig. 16Paul Gauguin, Studies of Jugs and Vases from the Rouen Sketchbook, 1887–88, black chalk on paper, 16.9 × 11 cm approx., National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC).⁵⁰This sketchbook was published in facsimile by the Hammer Galleries in 1962 under the title Paul Gauguin: Carnet de croquis, with accompanying texts by Raymond Cogniat and John Rewald. It has since been donated to The National Gallery of Art in Washington, where it is kept as the Breton Sketchbook.Open footnotes panel The sketch is looser and more rapid than the drawing in the Album Briand, and for that reason it has formerly been identified as a preparatory study – a notion that is not supported here.⁵¹Gray 1963, no. 37, p. 147.Open footnotes panel The page again features the pot with a Breton woman with raised arms, as well as a beer stein that can be dated with some certainty to 1886–87.⁵²This concerns Pitcher, 1886–87, Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Paris.Open footnotes panel The sketch of a large vase with a decorative figure around the neck is drawn from an object by Jean-Paul Aubé, whose studio was near Chaplet's workshop and whom Gauguin visited in the early years of his career.⁵³Fonsmark, in Brettell and Fonsmark 2005, pp. 290–91.Open footnotes panel Because it was previously assumed that Gauguin no longer used the Rouen Sketchbook after 1886, Gray concluded that the Cleopatra Pot must have originated in 1886–87.⁵⁴Gray 1963, no. 37, p. 147.Open footnotes panel However, it has since been established that the Rouen Sketchbook was in fact in use until 1888, and as shown above, objects from different periods can appear together on the same sheet. Therefore, the page in the Rouen Sketchbook will have served exactly the same documentary purpose as the page in the Album Briand.

These small documents became part of a personal visual archive of motifs that Gauguin frequently drew upon in his painting. Many of his own sculptures are referenced in various pictures. However, in the case of the Cleopatra Pot, this documentation is limited to the drawings in the Album Briand and the Rouen Sketchbook.

Theo van Gogh

In December 1887, when Gauguin was in all likelihood still fully engaged in producing ceramic sculptures, he received a visit at his lodgings with Schuffenecker from Theo and Vincent van Gogh. It proved a fruitful encounter, resulting not only in the sale of works including the painting The Mangoes, Martinique, but also in an exhibition at the Boussod, Valadon et Cie gallery on boulevard Montmartre, where Theo was the manager. In addition to paintings, the exhibition – which opened at the end of December – included three ceramic objects; the Cleopatra Pot was probably not one of these.⁵⁵Fénéon’s description does not correspond with the Cleopatra Pot. In his letter from Arles to Schuffenecker, in which he requests two pots, Gauguin explicitly states that the Cleopatra Pot is with Schuffenecker, while the other pot is with Theo at the Boussod, Valadon & Cie gallery. The objects sent to Boussod, Valadon & Cie for the exhibition at the end of 1887 likely remained there, whereas those not intended for the exhibition either stayed in the workshop or were sent to Schuffenecker.Open footnotes panel The critic Félix Fénéon (1861–1944), who had already expressed positive views on the woodcarving La Toilette in 1886, reviewed the exhibition and explicitly mentioned Gauguin's pots.⁵⁶Félix Fénéon, ‘Les impressionistes’, La Vogue, 13–20 June 1886, pp. 261–75; Félix Fénéon, ‘Vitrines des marchands de tableaux’, La Revue indépendante, January 1888.Open footnotes panel Fénéon was even more favourable towards the sculptures than the paintings, seeing Gauguin primarily as a potter rather than a painter: 'The scorned stoneware – sinister and harsh – is what he loves: haggard faces with broad glabellas, tiny slanted eyes, and flat noses – two vases; a third: the head of a royal elder, some dispossessed Atahualpa, with a mouth torn into a chasm. Two others of an abnormal, gibbous geometry.'⁵⁷Fénéon 1888: ‘Le grès honni, néfaste et dur, il l’aime: faces hagardes, aux larges gla-belles, aux minimes yeux bridés, au nez camard, – deux vases; un troisième: tête de royal macrobe, quelque Atahuallpa qu’on dépossède, la bouche déchirée en gouffre; deux autres d'une géométrie anormale et gobine.’Open footnotes panel These were the first words ever published about Gauguin's ceramics. To Gauguin, terms such as 'scorned' and 'harsh', as well as the allusion to the infamous Inca king Atahualpa, must have felt like an acknowledgement of his sculptures and the ideas behind them. Incidentally, these turns of phrase may have been whispered to Fénéon by Theo, who by then was informed about Gauguin's pots and is likely to have discussed them with the art critic at the gallery.⁵⁸See Introductory Essay: The Genesis of the Collection of Art Assembled by Theo and Vincent van Gogh.Open footnotes panel

As a token of thanks for the exhibition and all the further efforts Theo undertook on Gauguin's behalf in 1888 – and in an attempt to preserve their productive working relationship after a disastrous stay with Vincent van Gogh in Arles – Gauguin gave Theo two works: the painting Vincent van Gogh Painting Sunflowers and the Cleopatra Pot. Both were with Gauguin when he left Arles by train with Theo on 25 December 1888. Just two days earlier, Vincent had mutilated his ear during a psychological crisis and Theo had rushed from Paris to Arles to care briefly for his brother. While Theo stayed with Vincent at the hospital, Gauguin gathered his belongings – including the Cleopatra Pot. Shortly afterwards, Gauguin and Theo travelled north together. Within two weeks after their arrival in Paris, Gauguin visited Theo at his home in Montmartre, which is likely when he gifted the two works in question.⁵⁹The fact that Gauguin visited Theo in this period can be inferred from a letter Gauguin sent to Van Gogh between 8 and 16 January 1889 [734]: ‘At your brother’s home I saw your Sower, which is very good, as well as a yellow still life, apples and lemons.’ (‘j’ai vu chez votre frère votre Semeur qui est très-bien ainsi qu’une nature morte jaune, pommes et citrons.’) Yet the meeting must have taken place before Gauguin wrote about it to Van Gogh, as Theo had already mentioned the gift in a letter to his fiancée Jo Bonger on 4 January 1889 (begun on 3 January). In this letter he states: ‘Gauguin painted a portrait of Vincent during the last days he spent with him and gave it to me as a gift.’ (‘Gauguin heeft in de laatste dagen dat hij met Vincent was zijn portret geschilderd & hij heeft het mij cadeaux gemaakt.’) See Leo Jansen, Jan Robert and Han van Crimpen (eds.), Brief Happiness: The Correspondence of Theo van Gogh and Jo Bonger, Amsterdam & Zwolle 1999, no. 13. The occasion on which Vincent van Gogh Painting Sunflowers was given to Theo must therefore have been the same one during which the Cleopatra Pot was presented. Another hypothesis is that Gauguin gifted both works immediately after he and Theo arrived in Paris. However, this seems less likely, as presenting two artworks amid large amounts of luggage in a train station would have been rather impractical. The later visit – during which Gauguin also received a copy of Van Gogh’s lithograph after The Potato Eaters (1885) – therefore appears more plausible. I am grateful to Martin Bailey for pointing this out. The actual reference to Gauguin’s gift of the Cleopatra Pot appears on p. 226 of the sketchbook commonly known as the ‘Carnet Huyghe’. This notebook includes a handwritten list in which Gauguin recorded his sales, exchanges, and gifts. Among these entries is the note: 'Van Gog [sic]: pot donné', providing direct evidence that the pot was given to Theo van Gogh (Gauguin wrote ‘Van Gogh’ when he meant Theo van Gogh, and ‘Vincent’ when he alluded to Vincent van Gogh). The original sketchbook is preserved in the Israel Museum, Jerusalem, and the standard facsimile edition was published by René Huyghe in 1952 under the title Le Carnet de Paul Gauguin.Open footnotes panel After Theo’s death, the object, together with the rest of the Van Gogh brothers’ collection, went to Jo van Gogh-Bonger and her son Vincent. They interpreted the object’s function quite literally and actually used it as a flower vase, as can be seen in a photograph from 1925–26 (fig. 17Interior of the house of Jo van Gogh-Bonger at 77 Koninginneweg, Amsterdam, 1925–26, where Cleopatra Pot is visible on the piano to the right. Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)), where it is visible on the piano to the right.⁶⁰This photograph was taken shortly after the death of Jo van Gogh-Bonger, to document the interior of her home before it was dismantled. Nevertheless, it can be assumed that the Cleopatra Pot had been used this way even before then.Open footnotes panel

Vincent van Gogh

Both gifts to Theo likely carried a deeper significance relating to the period Gauguin had spent in Arles with his brother. The meaning behind Vincent van Gogh Painting Sunflowers is explored in detail in the catalogue entry dedicated to that work. As for the Cleopatra Pot, its connection to Van Gogh lies in a shared admiration for Pierre Puvis de Chavannes's Hope. That painting – and Gauguin's reference to it in the Cleopatra Pot – must have provoked considerable discussion during their time in Arles. In this way, Van Gogh and Hope became permanently linked in Gauguin's mind.

This connection was evident not only in the gift of the Cleopatra Pot to Theo, but also in works Gauguin created many years later. Just before relocating from Tahiti to his final residence on Hiva Oa in the Marquesas Islands in September 1901, Gauguin painted a series of four still lifes with sunflowers, all serving as tributes and memorials to Van Gogh.⁶¹See Cornelia Homburg, ‘Seeking Oneself Through Others: Gauguin’s Portraits of his Colleagues and Friends’, in Cornelia Homburg and Christopher Riopelle, Gauguin Portraits, exh. cat., Ottawa (National Gallery of Canada) / London (The National Gallery), New Haven and London 2019, pp. 79–81.Open footnotes panel In essence, they were symbolic portraits, akin to Van Gogh's painting of Gauguin's chair, a 'portrait' of his fellow artist (1888, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam). In one of the four sunflower paintings, Still Life with Hope (fig. 18Paul Gauguin, Still Life with Hope, 1901, oil on canvas, 77 × 65.5 cm, private collection), Gauguin included a reproduction of Puvis de Chavannes's Hope, a clear allusion to the painting's importance to both men. Later, in his studio on Hiva Oa, he hung this reproduction on the wall – it can be seen in the background of a 1902 photograph of Tohotaua, the woman who modelled for several of his works (fig. 19Louis Grelet, photo of Tohotaua, 1902, illustrated in Bengt Danielsson, Gauguin in the South Seas, 1965, pl. 49, p. 241). Gauguin may have owned the reproduction since the 1887 exhibition – throughout his life, he always took his reproductions with him on his travels – and could even have used it as a model for the Cleopatra Pot. Significantly, in Still Life with Hope Gauguin painted the figure with her eyes averted, in contrast to the direct gaze in the original Hope by Puvis de Chavannes. This may have been a reference to the discord that had coloured his time with Van Gogh in Arles. Below Hope, Gauguin painted an etching by Degas – a painter Van Gogh reportedly disliked.⁶²Paul Gauguin, letter to Emile Bernard, third or fourth week of November 1888, in Merlhès 1984, no. 182: ‘And what’s more, he [Van Gogh] detests Ingres, Raphael, Degas – all people I admire’ (‘Et pas contre il [Van Gogh] déteste Ingres, Raphaël, Degas, tous gens que j’admire’).Open footnotes panel At the same time, Puvis de Chavannes had been a key point of connection between the two artists. In Gauguin's allusions to Van Gogh – whether painted or written – criticism and reverence often mingle to form a cryptic yet endlessly compelling narrative. Ambiguity was what he sought, just as he had in the Cleopatra Pot.

Joost van der Hoeven
October 2025