Musée de l’Orangerie | Claude Monet
Image: “Quelques visiteurs dans la seconde salle des Nymphéas” (1930) © Albert Harlingue / Albert Harlingue / Roger-Viollet
Snapshot
Review of Claude Monet’s paintings, The Water Lilies, within the Musée de l’Orangerie
Artist: Claude Monet
Title: The Water Lilies
Oil on canvas
Years: late 1890s through 1926 (Monet’s death)
Dimensions: Eight canvases, each 200 x 850 cm, with varying lengths
Location: Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris, France
Musée de l’Orangerie Leaves a Genuine Impression
Standing in the center of one of the two ovular galleries within the Musée de l'Orangerie, I imagine this is what being inside a precious opal is like: 360 degrees of prismatic magnificence. Located in the Tuileries Gardens in Paris, the Musée de l'Orangerie is home to Claude Monet’s Water Lilies (Les Nymphéas). This fascinating immersive opportunity has existed within the Orangerie now for over a century, well before the blockbuster art presentations in today’s expo centers. Reflecting on the modern, traveling showcases of “immersive art experiences” of 19th century masters – which are raking in hundreds of millions of dollars – I couldn’t help but to wonder if evolution towards that idea is a bit negligent. Monet’s visionary undertaking of an original, site-specific Water Lilies installation reflects his devotion to sharing art with people; and visiting the Orangerie today confirms the timeless pleasure in directly interacting with artworks.
Inspired by his Giverny estate, Monet set out to create as close a replica of being amongst those gardens of his 1914 Normandy home. He worked on the Water Lilies until the time of his death in 1926 and this final gift was a fulfilled promise for the French State – meant to symbolize peace in the years following the Armistice of 1918 and World War I. The eight sprawling canvases were designed and constructed to blend with the curved wall shapes, resulting in 100-meters of continuous gazing, allowing the visitor’s eye to dive from painting to painting as if a frolicking water nymph.
The Water Lilies are interspersed with cheerful clouds, dawning blossoms, restful willow branches, and moody aquatic reflections. The two elliptical gallery rooms – each housing four canvases arranged like a directional compass – are grounded side-by-side, creating a structural infinity symbol. The glowing, futuristic style of the Orangerie’s interior reminds me of film stills from Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. The consistency of canvas height – 6.5 feet tall at varying lengths – relates the panoramic paintings to large spacecraft windows, as if peering out to a nature-laden world that once was.
The stark, sci-fi-like environment of the galleries almost hushes and freezes the atmosphere, so when juxtaposed alongside the movement-charged canvases, you are able to appreciate the essence of what Impressionist masters like Monet were setting out to accomplish. Looking at Monet’s paintings of nature means sorting through a lawless arrangement of surprising pink where there should be ocean blue, Martian green where there should be sunset orange, and being at peace through the chaos of it all. Emotion is the commanding force, rather than technical precision or pragmatism.
The Impressionist era was based around the moment: capturing the rustle that wind offers leaves, feeling the chill on your skin as the breeze rushes in, catching the shimmering light that reflects off the water – and translating it all through art mediums into expansive visual displays to share with generations to come. Optimistically, we art admirers of today can still engage with those enchanting intentions without the intrusive supplements lazily injected into today’s digital spectacles. At Musée de l'Orangerie, sensory harmony is palpable and an inherent strength.
Your imagination is powerful – and when met halfway with supportive tools, like intentional structural decisions – you can immerse yourself into mature scenes like this with delight. I understand the desire to seek new opportunities of engagement, as that is what binds us towards an ongoing goal of human connection. And recently, events management firms have edged this interest into a trend too dangerously close to gaudy entertainment and too adjacent to the art world. Similarly, selfie stick tourism and the Instagrammable backdrop era also teetered too close to the line of denigration. The evolution of experiencing art, when done with integrity and understanding, instead looks like movements such as performance, installation, and pop art. We’ve seen exciting explorations into visual expression like: Marina Abramović's interactive exhibitions, Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s architectural takeovers in thoughtful grand-scale settings, and Andy Warhol’s photogenic cultural frenzy. They – and many more – have fed us with their inventive geniuses. Further, they have demonstrated that we are capable of critical thinking alongside pleasurable viewing.
The innovators and genuine advocates for artistic development integrate with authenticity, matching the best vehicle of experience with the work for which they are showing. Usurping Impressionist masterworks and hosting their teched-out clones in a cement, chilly warehouse alongside musical “pairings” and lounge pillows was probably not how Vincent Van Gogh wanted Starry Night to be on display. If anything, those experiences should be moving en plein air with nature’s soundtrack as the accompaniment. There is a perfect spouse for digital showmanship, but it should reconsider the tone of its suitor for that perfect marriage. Slide into Neil deGrasse Tyson’s DMs! The fine artists of the past have already shared with us their take on immersion opportunities, especially the Impressionists who advocated unremittingly for the ability to capture sensations for our interpretations, not for our vandalization.
Not to get stuck in this modern-era rant, but I saw a meme recently that poked fun at the Las Vegas Sphere (a new dome entertainment arena à la Madison Square Garden). The meme’s image was that of a 12-foot circular parachute with a pizza-slice-pattern of primary colors. You know the one: from elementary school PE. Children grab a fabric handle, collectively billow the parachute towards the ceiling, then with a strong flick of the arm, tuck it underneath their bottoms and sit below the magical tent mushrooming above. Below that image, the meme reads, “yeah, I’ve already been to a show at The Sphere”. A reminder that sometimes the best stimulants are found in simplicity. Because they do just that: catalyze something already within us like an activation agent would. Cheap tricks fill the cringy extravaganzas of today, yet classics are classics for a reason.
In an article for The Guardian on David Hockney’s “Bigger and Closer” cyber spectacle, Jonathan Jones reviewed it as: “an overwhelming blast of passionless kitsch … less impact than a brief glance at actual original art by Hockney … a dumb contemporary fad that doesn’t and cannot capture the beauty of [artist’s] art.”
I implore you to remember that you are far more capable of genuine engagement with visual arts than the inundation from entertainment giants lead you to believe. Undoubtedly, it is easy to feel overwhelmed entering a monumental museum like The Louvre or The Met. There exists a pressure – even if self-inflicted – to blast through a tourist-checklist of stops. There must be something satisfactory in between. Might I suggest: taking a cue from the Orangerie and curate your own visits in a more digestible, balanced way. With a little DIY imagination and engagement with all five senses, you can approach a more complete experience, like that of the Water Lilies galleries.
Can you recall the smell of dew as you walk past that first panel, representing the morning pastel shades? The sunlight coming in from the gallery skylight warms your back as you stroll the space. You can practically hear the crickets chirping in accordance with the setting sun by the time you reach that final painting. The sensation of hope on the horizon is unavoidable while standing within the kaleidoscopic brushstrokes and special elliptical galleries, fully entranced. Immersion into these paintings is on offer via Monet’s ambitious and monumental ode to peaceful times.
Works Cited
Jones, Jonathan. “David Hockney: Bigger and Closer Review – an Overwhelming Blast of Passionless Kitsch.” The Guardian, February 21, 2023, URL.
Passy, Charles. “Cheesy Entertainment or a Bold New Way to Experience Art? Either Way, Van Gogh ‘Immersive’ Shows Have Become a Money-Making Sensation.” Market Watch, January 1, 2022, URL.
“The Water Lilies by Claude Monet.” Musée de l’Orangerie, URL.
Wolfe, Shira. “Impressionism: The Movement That Went Against The French Art Academy.” Artland Magazine, URL.