This enigmatic pastel has led to many far-reaching iconographic interpretations and identifications of the solitary, haloed figure, hidden in shadow, on the prow of a boat gliding through calm water towards a cave in the rocks. By way of comparison with the mysterious menhir – a tall upright stone that served in the Stone Age as a landmark for Druidic rituals and has sometimes been identified with a Gallic goddess – the female figure has been placed in France’s mythic past. In the Christian tradition, too, various readings of the composition have been put forward, one possible motif being Christ in the storm on the Sea of Galilee. But the interpretation that has found the largest following in the literature is Sven Sandström’s explanation of the image as Mary, the ‘vierge nimbée’ (haloed virgin), who as Stella Maris (Star of the Sea) protects seafarers from the doom foreboded by St Elmo’s fire. Other authors argue for a mystical meaning gleaned from a book written in Odilon Redon’s own time, Edouard Schuré’s Les grands initiés of 1889, in which a neophyte thinks he sees the boat of Isis sailing through the atmosphere to the realm of the stars. Redon’s composition displays a striking number of similarities to one of the most famous paintings of his own day, Arnold Böcklin’s Isle of the Dead , in which a deceased figure, clad entirely in white, is conveyed at dusk by rowing boat across a placid Styx to the rocky realm of the dead. Redon’s composition was attributed with a more personal spiritual meaning by Fred Leeman, who interpreted Redon’s boats as ‘a metaphor for negotiating the perils of the unconscious’.
Arnold Böcklin, Isle of the Dead, 1883. Oil on panel, 80 × 150 cm. Alte Nationalgalerie, Berlin
And Redon himself? As usual, he refused to commit himself and simply recorded the pastel in his account book as ‘La bargue’. This evasive strategy was effective: Redon’s sources of inspiration, dreams, ideas and feelings with regard to this work are just as shrouded in mist as the female figure herself, so that the mystery of the work and the artist remain unfathomable and at the same time personally interpretable. Even so, Redon’s diary contains poetical musings about seafaring, with repetitions of the phrase ‘And the rhythm of the waves cradles the spirit like a gentle harmony’.
In this pastel Redon used colour and tone to create a mystical musicality akin to that found in his text. The golden garland, which stands out brightly against the very dark passages, flutters over the sheet like a melody. Clouds of pure pigments of pastel flicker in the gloom. Redon lent the scene depth by choosing a sheet of blackish-brown wove paper as the support. The dark background emphasizes, moreover, the luminosity of the aureole and the golden beams. In the oeuvre catalogue, the dozens of mysterious marines Redon created are nicely summarized: ‘But in this marine theme, the essential theme in Redon’s oeuvre, the silhouettes are mostly nothing but a pretext for a subtle play of light and colour. The only thing that counts is the melancholic and luminous poetry that accompanies the initiatory voyage of the helmsman.’ That the figure and her story are not necessarily of more importance than the abstract play of colour and light is also apparent from the description that Redon added to the neutral title in his account book: ‘Dark brown sky with purple and red clouds, to the left a haloed being on a boat. Garlands of gold at the prow of the boat, and over the water a kind of phosphorescent blue, like a will-o’-the-wisp’.
The overpowering intensity of the colours transports viewers almost instantly to supernatural worlds. In this respect, too, the work differs in essence from the Isle of the Dead, the mimetic colours of which make it feel more like an extension of the world as we know it. Redon came to his palette intuitively, just as his compositions emanated organically from his dialogue with the materials, while at the same time the colours enhance certain iconographic associations. Blue has traditionally been used for the robes of the Virgin Mary, but this is not necessarily the key to the meaning of the work. Critics wrestled with Redon’s semantic games. In 1894 Camille Mauclair admitted that he was perplexed by Redon’s blue female profile in The Golden Cell : ‘But I do not understand the relationship between the colours and the composition and the subject. Why a blue here and a gold there? […] There is some reason and I do not understand it.’
And then there is another complicating factor: was the pastel originally as intensely blue as it is now? Attentive viewers may well have detected a discrepancy between Redon’s description and the cobalt blue and pink hues that the sky and clouds later took on. In fact, the work is severely discoloured, as can be seen on the edge of the pastel that was shielded from the light by the frame . Although Redon used brightly coloured pastel crayon, some of its aniline pigments discoloured as soon as they were exposed to light. Even though the artist eventually became aware of this problem, he must have been greatly shocked in 1912, when he saw his pastel again after fourteen years. Its owner, Andries Bonger, had sent the work to him for repair, but he was extremely hesitant to undertake such invasive treatment. As Redon wrote to Bonger: ‘As to the pastel, that’s another matter: I consider it respectfully and though it’s already out of its frame, here beside me, I still haven’t dared touch it. But I’ll try hard not to spoil it.’
Detail of cat. 20
Bonger subsequently urged Redon to send the pastel back as soon as possible, because the ‘empty space’ on the wall was becoming too much for him, and he was yearning to see the work again. He had managed to buy it in 1902 at the sale of Sara de Swart’s collection, probably after admiring it at her home. In the catalogue it was described as ‘Phantasmagoria: a haloed virgin on a blue background’, from which it emerges that the pastel must have discoloured from purple to blue within a couple of years. Because of the change in title and colours, Redon could not imagine which pastel this was, even though he had presented it only four years earlier to his friend Sara. The Dutch sculptor was one of the earliest collectors of Redon’s work, having bought her first drawing from him in 1892. She also organized the second large retrospective exhibition of Redon’s work, in The Hague in 1894, shortly after his first exhibition at the Galeries Durand-Ruel in Paris. In 1902, when she was forced by financial difficulties to sell a few drawings from her collection, Bonger seized the opportunity. He bought four works, which he did not want to be ‘touched by the hands of an indifferent person’. These words reveal the high regard in which Bonger held the work of his favourite artist and friend, and he could barely stand to see others handling it disrespectfully. The select group of Redon’s devoted collectors shared a pride in their recognition and appreciation of something that was puzzling to most people. As one of the few ‘initiates’ to the oeuvre of Redon, Bonger felt called upon to act as protector of the works that appeared at public auction and to save them from ‘indifferent’ hands and eyes.
A large box from Paris containing numerous works purchased from Redon arrived at the Bonger residence, like a belated Christmas present, on 31 December 1902. Bonger enjoyed unpacking his latest acquisitions and, in a letter to Redon, praised the frame that the frame-maker Boyer had made for ‘the boat’, which was now ‘worthily presented’. The walnut frame surrounding the pastel is indeed remarkably elegant and sculptural ( and ). The undulating profile contrasts well with the glassy smooth water and adds to the vibrations of the figure’s halo, whoever she may be.
Fleur Roos Rosa de Carvalho
2022