Art in Paris: The Salon d’Automne
How the French artist created modern art
In the scorching summer of 1905, Collioure, a sleepy fishing town nestled in the southwest of France, underwent a radical transformation. It was here that Henri Matisse orchestrated a revolution on canvas.
Arriving in mid-May, Matisse was a guest at Collioure’s solitary hotel in this unassuming and little visited coastal enclave. With his growing family in tow, he swiftly settled into the rhythm of the town, securing a studio with a mesmerizing view of the beaches. Later, Matisse expanded to a house on Plage Boramar. It was from this vantage point that a masterpiece was crafted, capturing the essence of the Château Royal as it overlooked the idyllic beach.
Collioure revealed Matisse’s unorthodox perspective. Rather than the familiar upstairs studio window, he opts for a beach-level, blending the surrounding landscape with the bustling fishing community. In 1905, the beach teemed with over a hundred boats, returning with bountiful catches of anchovies and sardines — a sight that Matisse masterfully captures in his composition.
Behind the stately silhouette loom majestic mountains, adding depth and grandeur to the scene. Fishing boats line the shore, their nets emptied. In the foreground, figures huddle together — mending nets or sorting through the day’s catch. It is in these details that Matisse captures the heartbeat of Collioure, intimately connecting his art to the ebb and flow of daily life.
Each stroke of Matisse’s pen is so precise that a seasoned fisherman could discern the time — sometimes even the hour — at which it was sketched. In his Collioure sketchbooks, Matisse chronicled the timeless rituals of a people whose lives have revolved around the sea since antiquity. These ancient patterns, he would later reveal, infused him with the vitality that birthed his iconic work, “The Dance,” which was to scandalize the Parisian art world in 1910.
With an intimacy that permeates the drawing, Matisse conveys the thrill of liberation he experienced in Collioure. It stands as a testament to his artistic metamorphosis during that momentous summer — a time when the world witnessed the birth of a new artistic era, forever transforming the course of modern art.
In that same year, the young artist embarked on a torrid love affair with his studio model, and as he relates between sips of wine and, to no one’s surprise but his own, there is a beautiful baby daughter, Marguerite. He and his future wife, Amelie, have serious discussions, he suggests with a raised brow not all of them were pas très plaisant, and they ultimately agree to raise the child as their own.
In one respect, the outcome is promising. While the ménage à trois is not precisely a model family, the arrangement allows Matisse to use both wife and daughter as models. It was a blessing of sorts, you see. Having given up a lucrative career as a lawyer, Matisse was struggling to save money.
Mounting financial woes soon tumble Matisse into the suffocating grip of depression. Whispers among his friends speak of the toll this melancholy takes on his art. However, something extraordinary occurs in this picturesque coastal town, and he was reluctant to speak of it until now. Perhaps he feared it was a momentary respite from agony, a delusion, or a joke of the gods of vengeance. It turns out to be a life force that is more powerful and transformative than anyone, least of all Matisse, ever contemplated.
As they enjoy the traditional Provençal fish stew, the two artists engage in a cherished daily ritual, the hum of contented conversation about their life’s work. In this intimate space, they find a special kind of comfort. Amid the camaraderie, Matisse’s hands reach into his artist’s apron, retrieving a letter from an important couple. With a mix of anticipation, he shares its contents with his fellow artist, reading the words aloud.
Matisse muses the answer to his problems lies within carefully crafted sentences. Their words foretell a path forward. As the words flow from his lips, their significance resonates in the space between the two artists, and both men smile broadly and warmly.
Two unrelated events drew Matisse to the charms of the south of France. The first was his decision to accumulate works by painters he admired but could hardly afford. Among his collection was a plaster bust by Rodin, a painting by Gauguin, a drawing by Van Gogh, and Cézanne’s Three Bathers (which sold in 2022 for a staggering US$138m at Christie’s). The expensive collecting habit led him to realize he must find cheaper lodgings. That was embarrassment enough — if not for a second problem.
A financial scandal ensnared Amélie’s parents in May 1902, leaving Matisse as the sole breadwinner for an extended family of seven, including the foundling, Marguerite. He was deeply concerned about his financial straits and the damage to his family’s reputation. These events set in motion a series of events that led him to Languedoc-Roussillon looking for cheaper rents, and it would return the favor by establishing Matisse as one of the most famous artists of his time.
But first, he had a mountain of public taste to climb.
The early 20th century marked a wave of artistic and cultural revolutions, with France as its epicenter. Matisse was among the leading figures whose path to artistic greatness was not without its detours. Born in 1869 in a small town in northern France, he pursued a career in law, but fate had different plans.
In 1899, a severe case of appendicitis had him bedridden, and Matisse’s mother brought him a set of art supplies. Thus began his journey, which he would later describe as a “kind of paradise” of the mind, which brought him to the cafe in Collioure. As my Scots ancestors used to say, “To dream big, a wee dram.”
“From the moment I held the box of colors in my hands, I knew this was my life. I threw myself into it like a beast that plunges towards the thing it loves.”
Matisse’s fondness for bright and expressive colors grew stronger after spending the summer of 1904 painting in St. Tropez. Dazzled by the light and colors of the Mediterranean, he spent five months in this island paradise producing over fifty paintings which portrayed in rich colors and expressive brushwork the rugged, unspoiled southern landscapes of sea, mountains and olive trees. This began a pattern of movement between North and South that ended with Matisse’s permanent relocation to Nice in 1917, where he spent the last four decades of his life.
In 1905, Matisse and a group of artists known as the “Fauves” exhibited their paintings at the Salon d’Automne. He displayed Open Window and Woman with a Hat at the Salon, but unfortunately, the paintings received harsh criticism from the art establishment.
An art critic coined the term Fauve (“wild beast”), and became forever associated with artists who exhibited brightly colored canvases in the Grand Palais. It epitomized high society’s smug reaction. One critic said that Woman with a Hat reminded him of “a pot of paint flung in the face of the public.” The immediate effect was to speed Matisse off in search of warmer and friendlier climes.
The Salon Goers
“It has bothered me all my life that I do not paint like everybody else.”― Henri Matisse
Fate had other ideas, although it took a while to decide. While touring the exhibit, the great art and artist collectors Gertrude and Leo Stein initially called Woman with a Hat the “nastiest smear of paint” ever seen. However, time changed that perception after repeated visits to the Grand Palais over five weeks.
Finally, the Steins succumbed to its charms, paying Matisse 500 francs, equivalent to approximately $100 at the time. The purchase proved to be a turning point for Matisse, not only establishing the Steins as collectors but helping Matisse financially and leading to his eventual success as an artist.
Through the Steins, Matisse first met Pablo Picasso, who later said, “No one has ever looked at Matisse’s painting more carefully than I, and no one has looked at mine more carefully than he.” He added, “All things considered, there is only Matisse.” But all of that was yet to be.
For now, the Stein purchase improved Matisse’s mood, and he went to spend time in Languedoc-Roussillon, where he discovered the brighter light and a rich and fascinating history.
“I am unable to make any distinction between the feeling I get from life and the way I translate that feeling into painting.” ― Henri Matisse
Languedoc-Roussillon has been a center of the distinctive civilization of southern France since the 13th century, with a language and culture (Occitan) different from the rest of the country. Religion is unique here as well. In the 16th century, Languedoc became a center of French Protestantism. The government’s attempt to impose Catholicism gave rise to the peasant insurrection of the Protestant Camisards in the early 18th century. It was neither the first nor last revolution to overtake these quaint villages.
Despite its stunning beauty, the region was struggling when Matisse visited, which explains why homes were cheaply available on the beach. First, the anchovy fishing industry collapsed. To make matters worse, the wine industry that had once made the area wealthy was ravaged by the Phylloxera louse. Vignerons tried breeding chickens hoping they would peck the little beasts to death, and then evolved a curious mixture of lime and copper sulfate. Only it imparted a bitter taste. Finally, we presume urine was used fresh, without any recorded comments on the impact on flavor, to no avail. It seemed as though the region was doomed to suffer an endless string of misfortunes.
Cries of anguish were fruitless, and the pun is well intended.
However, amid this chaos, Fauvism artists recognized something worth preserving. Led by Matisse, they were drawn to the region’s stunning beauty and saw beyond the present struggles. As only an artist might, they could envision a different, if improbable, future where the South of France could again be a beacon of prosperity and culture.
As the British say, they were positively gobsmacked by the landscapes of the charming seaside towns. As Matisse and his fellow painters worked to capture the beauty of the Languedoc-Roussillon region on canvas, they had another effect — bringing tourists to this stunning corner of France.
As ever, artists are our bellwethers. We should put a GPS on their backs and follow wherever they go.
The Language of Yes
For Matisse, Collioure becomes a sanctuary of transformation. Yet, these havens are not confined to idyllic vacation getaways or sunny landscapes. No, dear reader, they exist within the vast expanse of our minds — a triumphant state we carry within our inner landscape, concealing the remedies of rejuvenation and rebirth. They are the driving forces that enable us to cast aside doubt and disbelief, embarking on a journey toward the realm of the improbable dream, where new realities await.
The terroir of Languedoc-Roussillon is one of the mystical places on Earth. A combination of human experiences has collided propitiously over the centuries, a “little big bang” that finally came together to form something unforgettable.
For centuries, the Languedoc was a battleground for rival factions, from the Romans to the Cathars to the Huguenots. The scars of conflict remain visible in the fortified towns and castles that dot the landscape.
And yet, despite its violent history, Languedoc emerged as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It is a place where tradition and innovation coexist, where humanity has found a way to connect with the Earth and each other and create a habitat where endless possibilities exist. Even the name Languedoc, derived from “langue d’Oc” in the local ancient dialect of Occitan, means “the language of yes.”
In his wisdom, Matisse has gifted us a signpost, a guiding light to recognize those extraordinary places where light permeates without casting a shadow. They are hidden corners that give us the courage to face our brokenness and the inspiration to manifest improbable dreams. Let us, therefore, seek out such sanctuaries in both the world around us and within.
We owe a debt of gratitude to Matisse and all those who have walked this path before us. Through their remarkable journeys, they illuminate the true essence of terroir, a metaphor that captures the liberation of one’s life to reach extraordinary heights. They show us that by embracing the unique qualities of our surroundings and nurturing our inner landscape, we unlock the boundless potential that resides within.
It Takes a Vineyard:
Henri Matisse’s inspired art and life were inextricably bound to Collioure.
As we delve deeper into the story of Henri Matisse, it becomes evident that Collioure was the perfect terroir. He arrived depressed but left inspired, infusing his canvases with vibrant colors that influence artists today. When we discover our terroir we discover ourself.
Without its transformative influence, the renowned artist would have wound up as a prosperous Parisian lawyer and perhaps a part-time amateur. But Collioure transformed him into one of the greatest painters of the 20th century, a rival of Picasso and favorite of the Rockefeller’s (at the end of Matisse’s life, they commissioned his stained glass window for their family church in Pocantico, NY). Matisse without Collioure is Leonardo without Florence. Relocate the great Renaissance genius to Australia and you end up with Mona Matilda.
It was a freak accident or good luck that brought Matisse to this breathtaking corner of the world, or so he believed. Most of our extraordinary subjects attributed their success to random events and occurrences as well. But why would there be only one Matisse and yet thousands of artists who painted Collioure landscapes? Was it his talent that makes him so superior to all the others? Or was there an ineffable influence, a liberating spirit that brought out the best in him? The enduring impact of terroir cannot be overstated.
In truth, all of us yearn to unlock our true potential — where our talents, happiness, and strength will thrive. This explains why, like Matisse, we tirelessly seek the elusive ideal, serendipitously darting from one home to another, one vacation hotspot to another, speed dating Florida to California only to realize that what we truly want is Hawaii, Aruba, and until it turns out to be Ibiza.
In the enchanting coastal town of Collioure, this remarkable phenomenon wasn’t a paranormal event but a fact of life that we witnessed in countless interviews with extraordinary individuals, from Nobel Prize winners to Four Star Generals and Network TV news anchors. What emerged from these encounters was a clear pattern that shed light on the connection between greatness in life and the influence of surroundings.
We call it The Terroir Effect, and contrary to popular belief of so-called success experts, it surpasses the contribution of inherited talents, DNA, family wealth, and even intellect. A genius in the wrong terroir, Marie Curie is a smart women whom people admire. In France she wins the Nobel Prize twice.
Despite the claims made for the seven habits or outliers who achieve extraordinary success due to accidents of time and circumstance of self help bromides, the concept of place emerges as a paramount factor when digging into astonishing outcomes. Whether it’s home or a cherished memory, habitats leave an indelible impression that is so strong their power can resonate throughout our lives.
We remain oblivious to the fact that we are always in pursuit of the right place, forever searching for the ideal abode, a happy place that liberates us to be ourselves, and maintains a vigil in search of that small morsel of immortality called success. That is the magic and mystery of terroir. It is both a place and a state of mind, or as as Hemingway would call it, a moveable feast.
Hemingway’s Terroir
Ernest Hemingway (far right) in 1926 in Paris, outside Shakespeare and Company bookshop. He is pictured with the shop’s founder, Sylvia Beach (on his right). (Photograph: Collection Lausat/Keyston-France/Cam)
The Terroir Effect is a paramount factor in creating astonishing outcomes. The connection to habitat is so strong, and we are so impressionable. The places that shape our identities possess an unrivaled ability to inspire greatness in all of us. This is the phenomenon of the terroir effect. No one better exemplified the terroir effect than Ernest Hemingway’s “A Moveable Feast.”
As he enters the Paris cafe, Hemingway’s condition can be described as uncertain and contemplative. He is grappling with various emotions and personal challenges, reflecting on his life and artistic pursuits. Hemingway’s thoughts and observations paint a vivid picture of his inner turmoil and the complex dynamics of his relationships with other writers and artists in the bohemian Parisian scene.
The Nobel Prize-winning author looks back over the forty intervening years since his time in Paris with his first wife, and the echoes of the period register with him even as he writes his last memoir. He is down on his luck, writing in a six-story walk-up without heat. He has to buy coal to keep his hands from freezing. While walking home from a day of writing, he stops at a Parisian café with regulars smoking their foul-smelling cigarettes and pretty women waiting for beaus. Hemmingway orders wine and a dozen oysters, and looking back on this moment from the vantage of forty years, he writes:
“As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.”
For Hemingway and his startlingly extraordinary life and tragic death, his time here in the ’20s was a moveable feast he would take with him for the remainder of his life, turning it into one of the most remarkable memoirs ever composed.
The terroir effect makes us happy and inspires us to make plans. Once we learn to recognize it, we’ll always have it. Hemingway told his wife, “We’ll always have Paris.”
A Moveable Feast
If you discover yourself in a place that feels tailor-made, it will evoke the same sensation Matisse stumbled upon when he visited the vibrant town of Collioure. Every brushstroke absorbed the energy of his surroundings. This is the most life enhancing and productivity inspiring experience a person can have. In that moment, Matisse was transported, and his life forever transformed. This exemplifies the power of terroir — an influential force that not only shapes the course of lives but also determines the ultimate destination.
Yet, terroir goes far deeper than pretty brushstrokes. It represents our roots, the impact of our origins. It propels us to achieve greatness even when we venture from that home base. Consider the remarkable journey of Dr. Reatha Clark King, who rose from the cotton fields of Jim Crow Georgia to the boardrooms of corporate giants. Her humble beginnings remained etched in memory, serving as a constant reminder of the inner strength she possessed at age ten when she picked 200 pounds of cotton each day.
Our first encounter with terroir takes place at the kitchen table. As we embark on various paths in life — seeking love, pursuing careers, embracing adventure — our sense of belonging harkens back to that place. The kitchen table expands as our world grows, becoming a sanctuary from the pressures and stresses of the outside world. It is like the children’s game of tag and home base is the safest place on earth. However, when things start to go awry as we age, the table shrinks until we feel isolated and alone, and we can turn into desperate humans without hope, akin to Matisse’s mood when he arrived in Collioure.
Terroirs can be expansive, accommodating many. They are like interlocking Buddhist rings, exemplified by the rural town of Cornwall nestled near the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, flanked by the Hudson River and the historical efforts of the Continental Army to establish the iconic terroir of the United States. General David Petraeus held that first ring in his hand as he mounted fierce battles in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Similar to the 1,204 grapes in a bottle of Burgundy, the power of terroir is both collective in spirit and individual in action. Terroir challenges us to sacrifice aspects of our identity in exchange for a larger one, akin to a caterpillar shedding its skin before transforming into a beautiful, soaring creature.
Even when we are away, our original terroir accompanies us, like a piece of luggage holding the most precious possession. Matisse carried Collioure with him to Paris, where his exhibitions led to his discovery as France’s greatest artist and heralded the era of modernism. However, there are moments when an environment fails us, causing the metaphorical shrinking of the kitchen table, leaving no room to sit and chat. Many have experienced this, in careers or in relationships, occasionally in their country, fostering a desire for departure, change, revolt, and the search for a new sense of belonging.
Terroirs encompass a wide range of experiences, spanning moments of vibrancy and inspiration to periods of struggle and strife. These exist in harmony, much like the orbits of planets, moving through cycles of light and darkness. Each terroir phase offers valuable lessons, while others serve to rejuvenate. Some terroirs represent destinations, while others symbolize journeys. They are cycles of life, constantly evolving and repeating, as we discover, establish, and transcend different terroirs throughout our existence.
Our lives are like intricate puzzles, and even the slightest removal of a piece can cause everything to come crashing down, much like a Jenga tower. However, the reassuring truth is that the state is temporary. Each of us is faced with the daunting choices at one time or another.
Following his departure from Apple in 1985, Steve Jobs embarked on a new venture by founding a company called NeXT. In 1988, NeXT introduced a groundbreaking product that seamlessly integrated powerful hardware and software. This innovation marked a significant milestone in the technological landscape. Eventually, Apple acquired NeXT in 1996, driven by the challenges faced in upgrading the Macintosh operating system. After the acquisition, Steve Jobs initially served as an advisor, then assumed the role of acting CEO, and eventually became the CEO of Apple. NeXT’s legacy lives on as an integral part of Mac OS X. This journey closely resembles the process of founding a terroir, establishing its strengths, and then transcending it, only to embark on a new terroir once again.
Terroir is a perpetual cycle, forever evolving and renewing. It is a moveable feast.
The Terroir Effect was a serendipitous discovery, akin to stumbling upon a rare Sheffield Horse in a dusty thrift shop. It came to light as we were interviewing individuals who lead extraordinary lives. But little did we realize, it was hidden in plain sight. As we reviewed the transcripts it kept repeating itself over and lover. It was the key that unlocked the secret and answered the ultimate question.
Terroir extends beyond its association with great wine. We found that it plays a pivotal role in lives with remarkable outcomes. The connection between a person and their environment is potent, as we are highly impressionable at various stages of life. Places have the power to shape our identities and to inspire greatness. Conversely, when the environment turns sour, it leads to failure. This is why discovering or creating the right terroir is a crucial factor, and we refer to it as the Terroir Effect.
The Terroir Effect represents a vibrant and ever-changing state of place or mind, deeply rooted in the sacred traditions that have shaped it. Baron Le Roy understood this definition well, using it as the foundation of his narrative. Educating people about more than just wine, he aimed to deliver prestige in a bottle. This required a dedication to education and continuous improvement.
In our study, Warren Buffett restored his terroir; General Petraeus fought for it; Nikki Haley transformed into a governor; Michael Phelps swam for his terroir; Soledad O’Brien made hers nice; John McCain struggled in his for seven years; Grandma Moses painted hers to remember. Each created or repaired or reinvented their terroirs and it made their lives special in a way that changed everything. Terroirs turn ordinary into extraordinary.
Let’s take Champagne, for example — a realm of effervescent splendor where bubbles dance upon the tongue. It serves as an exquisite testament to the mastery of terroir. In contrast, sparkling wines may be magnificent but they lack that intangible quality that sets terroir apart.
Consider two distinguished institutions, Harvard and Haverford. They share similar sounding and boast equal levels of selectivity and educational rigor. Yet their terroirs shape very distinct identities. Similarly, why is it that we know the famous anthem in honor of the U.S. Marines but remain ignorant of a hymn dedicated to the “Merchant Marines”? As it turns out, the Maritime Hymn is called the “Song for the Unsung,” which rather makes our point about terroir.
Contrasting the two similar landscapes of Las Vegas and Atlantic City reveals the terroir effect. The sprawling oasis of Vegas is a true terroir, where dreams are won and lost like characters in a Greek tragedy. In stark contrast, Atlantic City appears soulless, lacking any distinction. Numerous such examples highlight the profound divide of terroir that extends beyond the vineyard.
Consider the enigma of two neighboring cities, Oakland and San Francisco, in California. Why do they possess such contrasting reputations? As Gertrude Stein wittily observed, “There is no there there,” referring to Oakland. One could argue that there is no terroir there either.
In the context of a vineyard, terroir represents an energy field within which grapes grow, often within the confines of a meticulously maintained enclosure. The results are not solely attributable to nature as we typically perceive it. Terroir is source that ensures the vineyard is carefully cultivated, nurtured, and protected. The magic of terroir, however, isn’t confined to the vineyard alone.
But maybe that’s the wine talking.
