Degas, Sickert, and Toulouse-Lautrec: London and Paris, 1870–1910

last updated 8 January 2015

'œPoor Walter Sickert,' said Paul Richard in The Washington Post. First, the British painter was accused of being Jack the Ripper in a recent book by Patricia Cornwell. Now, he's sandwiched between Edgar Degas and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec in a new exhibit, where the pressure to equal these great artists is simply too much. 'œHis problem is his pictures.' Though many are 'œmemorable and moody,' others are only awkward. The brilliant Degas and Toulouse-Lautrec 'œseldom left a clunky mark.' Still, Sickert belongs to the narrative of this exhibit, which includes several other British and French artists from the late 19th century. He met Degas while working as a courier for James McNeill Whistler, and was instantly awestruck. He became Degas' unofficial ambassador to England, advancing relations between French and British artists. Therein lies the case this exhibit makes: When it came to 'œurban, advanced painting, Paris and London weren't really far apart.'

But the show ultimately fails in its mission to elucidate 'œthe busy cross-Channel trade in aesthetic ideas,' said Roberta Smith in The New York Times. Rather than educating, it increases confusion by trying to cover too much historical and social ground with too few paintings. A few do stand out, such as Sickert's nude La Hollandaise, inspired by a Dutch prostitute in a Balzac novel, or Ennui, depicting an older couple. It's always a delight to see Degas' dancers and Toulouse-Lautrec's ladies of the Moulin Rouge. And Philip Wilson Steer's portrait of Mrs. Cyprian Williams and her daughters is a showstopper. It 'œfuses the psychological intimacy of Degas' early family portraits with the tilted perspective of his ballet paintings''”with a dash of rebellion. But many important artists are missing; their absence illustrates the show's central problem: 'œan emphasis on milieu, personality and historical minutiae at the expense of the best art produced by that milieu.'