THE RISE OF IMPRESSIONISM, an artistic whirlwind between traditional and modernist painting, seemed to have come out of nowhere. In fact, it was a carefully cultivated art movement that set the pattern for today's art market.
The scene was set by a few precursors, such as the loose brushwork and color of Eugene Delacroix and political turmoil in both France and the United States. The Franco Prussian War of 1870 stirred a spirt of revolt and innovation in Paris. And the end of the Civil War in the United States led to an industrial boom, and new wealth.
Hence, the formula: new rebellious art meets nouveau rich art buyers. And the link between them was the Parisian art dealer Paul Durand-Ruel (1831-1922).
Durand-Ruel, the son of an art-dealing family, was taken by the new painters in Paris. They were making no headway and, indeed, were rejected by the academic salon that ruled the European art markets and tastes. Casting about, Durand-Ruel met up with the likes of Camille Pissarro and Pierre-Auguste Renoir and others who painted outdoors in the Barbizon forest. Their outlook was summarized by Renoir: "You had to paint in bright colors." It was in the air, he said.
Still, these kinds of paintings did not suit the tastes of the times, the 1860s to the 1880s. After the Impressionists held a failed, rebel exhibit in 1874, Durand-Ruel singlehandedly kept them going. With income generated by selling traditional art, he gave Impressionists stipends in exchange for exclusive control of their works, of which he also made “mass purchases,” one historian notes.
As cheerleader as well, he told them they were “closer to success than you think,” and advised what to paint: “I feel that landscapes are much more likely to sell." He then began to brand his painters, each with a story and personality. As such, they were hard to sell in group exhibits, so he did solo shows with press coverage. Targeting the rising middle class, he also made education about the new art part of the package. And if Impressionism was taken as lax, informal painting, he designed elegant exhibit rooms to give such paintings the patina of luxury.
Positioned between his painters and his clients, Durand-Ruel managed a financial balancing act as well. His contract and pricing system had long-term speculation in mind, and as Pissarro conceded to him, "I will set my prices as you advise." He also mastered a golden rule now know to all dealers: he kept confidential the price he paid the painter and the price at which he sold to a buyer. When it worked, it kept the aura of the painter and the artwork above the fray of financial dueling.
When all this was in place, in 1886, Durand-Ruel took Impressionism to America. He held an exhibit of 300 paintings in New York, a mix of mostly Impressionists with some traditional painting to soften the blow. In the next two years, he took six more trips to America. He tapped into wealthy American collectors such as Albert Barnes and Duncan Phillip.
A decade later, in 1896, Impressionism had overcome the tradition-bound resistance of Paris, and was selling well. The painters were not always happy, of course. Pissarro was bitter that he was not selling as well as Monet. Yet there was always America.
Over there, the monied public had no qualms about so-called “unpolished” art, and in time Durand-Ruel placed several hundred of the best known Impressionist works in American collections. He also brought the first Impressionist exhibit to Russia in 1896. Famously, Wassily Kandinsky saw the exhibit, and changed his trajectory to modernist painting.
As is well known, by the turn of the century, Impressionism was one of the fastest emerging art movements in art history. Durand-Ruel had been “it’s promoter and it’s champion,” says one art historian. No other art dealer has been so closely associated with the rise of an art form. And, the historian adds, the way today's art markets operate, “all have their origin in the way that Impressionism was marketed by Paul Durand-Ruel.”
At the end of his life in the 1920s, Durand-Ruel was given France’s highest award, the Legion of Honor. It was not for art, but for promoting international trade. Looking back, savvy art dealers have agreed. According to a former top Sotheby’s officer, Impressionism since has dominated the blue chip art market, and, “The main reason wasn’t the colors and romance”—it was its power as an investment vehicle.