My First Encounter with Monet

It was 1975, and I was a senior in college, working toward my Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. Like many art students, I dreamed of Paris, and that year, my dream came true. One crisp morning, I found myself standing in the City of Light, buzzing with excitement. Some friends and I made a plan: we’d visit the Louvre.

The Louvre was everything I imagined and more—a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and masterpieces. But then, something stopped me in my tracks. It was a room with Claude Monet’s Water Lilies.

I froze. Before me stretched an immense canvas so vast it curved along the walls. The colors—deep blues, vibrant greens, and soft violets—pulled me in. My heart slowed. My eyes softened. My mind quieted. At first, I stood at a distance, taking in the entirety of the work. But as I stepped closer, I lost myself in the brushstrokes. The grand composition dissolved into raw emotion.

In that moment, everything changed.

My Roots in Renaissance Art

Before that day, my training was rooted in the Renaissance. My style was tight and detailed, influenced by the old masters. I built up layers of thin paint and glazes to create depth and richness. My paintings were smooth and polished, taking months to complete.

I took pride in my technique. I wasn’t just good at it—I was great. I won awards and accolades. Renaissance-style painting was my safe space. I knew the rules, the formulas, and the methods. It was my comfort zone.

And yet, there I was, captivated by the wild, unrestrained beauty of Impressionism.

The Battle Within

Impressionism is everything Renaissance art is not. Where I used delicate layers, Impressionists used bold, quick strokes. They laid color directly on the canvas, often unmixed, allowing the viewer’s eyes to do the blending. Their works were about light and life, not perfection.

This is where my internal battle began. I admired the looseness of Impressionism, but I couldn’t replicate it. My hands, trained to work carefully, couldn’t let go. My heart craved the freedom, but my mind clung to what I knew.

I still ask myself: How can I let my brushstrokes breathe? How can I invite playfulness into my work?

A Brief History of Impressionism

Maybe understanding Impressionism more deeply would give me answers. So, let’s dive in.

The heyday of Impressionism lasted only about 30 years, from the 1860s to the 1880s. Yet, its influence has endured for over a century. Previous art movements spanned centuries. In contrast, Impressionism was a flash of brilliance. It was born in a time of rapid change. Several factors gave rise to this movement: photography, paint in tubes, urbanization, and the influence of Japanese art.

The Influence of Photography

Before photography, artists were the historians of the world. Paintings preserved wars, royal portraits, and family milestones. But when photography arrived, art was freed from its documentary role.

Artists could experiment. They could focus on emotions, light, and moments. Photography didn’t kill painting; it liberated it.

Paint in Tubes

Imagine painting before the invention of metal paint tubes. Artists had to mix their pigments daily and store them in pig bladders (yes, pig bladders!). The process was messy and limiting.

In 1841, John Goffe Rand changed everything with his invention of the metal tube. Suddenly, paint was portable. Artists left their studios and paint outdoors—en plein air. This outdoor painting brought a new focus: the fleeting nature of light. Impressionists studied how light danced on water, filtered through trees, and shifted with the time of day. Their dabs of color layered over one another to capture these ephemeral effects.

The Energy of Urbanization

By the late 19th century, cities like Paris were booming. New buildings rose, streets bustled with activity, and life moved faster than ever before. Impressionists turned their attention to this vibrant energy. They painted café scenes, busy streets, and people enjoying everyday moments. Their work wasn’t about grand, mythological themes. It was about real life, happening now.

Japanese Influence

Around this time, Japan opened its borders to the West, and its art became a revelation. Japanese prints featured flat colors, bold compositions, and unconventional perspectives. Impressionists were inspired. They borrowed the asymmetry and unique framing of Japanese art, weaving it into their own works.

Fighting for Recognition

Of course, not everyone loved Impressionism. Many dismissed it as sloppy and unfinished. Critics mocked the loose brushstrokes and unconventional techniques.

The Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris, the gatekeepers of the art world, rejected Impressionist works. Artists like Monet, Renoir, Degas, and Cassatt were denied entry into official exhibitions.

But they didn’t give up. In 1874, they organized their own independent exhibition. Critics may have ridiculed them, but history proved them wrong.

Why I Can’t Let Go

So, why does Impressionism still call to me? Maybe it’s the movement, the energy, and the light. Maybe it’s the boldness of breaking the rules.

But here’s the truth: It terrifies me. My Renaissance-style training is like a safety net. Impressionism feels like a leap into the unknown.

Still, I’m trying. Every now and then, I pick up my brushes and push myself to loosen my grip. It’s not easy, but I remind myself of that day in Paris.

Standing before Water Lilies, I didn’t see brushstrokes or technique. I saw beauty, emotion, and life. That’s what I want my art to say.

A Work in Progress

Will I ever fully embrace Impressionism? Maybe, maybe not. But that’s the beauty of art—it’s a journey, not a destination.

I’m learning to balance the precision of the Renaissance with the freedom of Impressionism. Some days, my paintings are tight and controlled. Other days, I let the colors dance.

For now, I’m okay with being in between. After all, art isn’t about perfection. It’s about finding the light.

What’s Next?

Monet’s Water Lilies capture the essence of nature in a way that transcends time. I strive to infuse my own work with the beauty of both classical techniques and contemporary emotion.

Are you drawn to art that reflects a deep connection with light, texture, and nature? Explore my collection. My artwork embodies these elements.

Each piece is an invitation to experience a moment frozen in time—an opportunity to bring timeless beauty into your space.

Visit my website to discover more. Feel free to reach out if you’d like to discuss how my work could complement your collection. I look forward to sharing this journey with you.