This is the third (and last) little copy I made while strolling among Bonnard’s paintings at an exhibit in 2003. Now it’s a stroll down memory lane.
The poignant thing about an exhibit like that, when it’s an artist whose works you really love, is the transcience of it. Bonnard’s paintings will appear together in other future exhibits, sometime, somewhere. But each time you have a chance to see works together this way, you know that you are not likely to see them again — at least not in ensemble. Some of them one is unlikely to ever see again, unless one happens to be the most assiduous globe trotter, for normally they are scattered everywhere.
This white jug (that’s what it is) appears in the same painting as the orange jug, on the table in the Dining Room overlooking the Garden of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. My copy of the white jug turned out to be rather less legible than the orange jug. (The yellow circle is the rim of the jug, and its bright interior is blue.) However, the fuzziness is Bonnardesque in its own way. This little jug is a very tender keepsake to me. From it rises up memories of veils of color from Bonnard’s scintillating and chalky colored surfaces, of his dining room and its primeval forest beyond.
[Top of the post: Notebook drawing after Bonnard, by Aletha Kuschan]