Monet’s Water Lilies: A Monument to Peace and Solace in Grief

"To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wildflower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,

And Eternity in an hour"

William Blake

I love this quote by William Blake reminding me of the depth that can be found in the simplest of things if we are willing to slow down and pay attention.  Give presence by moving beyond the mere naming of things and lean into a more engaged experience with the moment in front of us. 

          Recently a friend and I were reflecting on how a garden is in many ways a microcosm of life.  This led me to revisit a documentary series I had initially seen a few years ago titled “The World’s Greatest Paintings” hosted by Andrew Marr.  It is a fascinating series exploring the life journeys of the artists behind several of the historic paintings.  The stories are filled with many challenges, failures, rich creativity, resilience and break through celebratory moments. It honours the tremendous devotion and discipline behind the artist’s work that we often don’t see or fully appreciate.

Following the garden theme, I was again curious about the episode exploring the work of Claude Monet.  Most specifically his renowned water lilies and the famous panels now displayed at the Musee de l ’Orangerie in Paris that he was commissioned to create after WWI as a monument to peace.

          I knew of his success in the earlier part of his career then later how he focused on designing and painting a magnificent garden and pond at his home in Giverny in the Normandy region of France.  However, until I watched the documentary, I was not aware of the full story leading up to the commissioned panels.

Initially, the garden project brought great inspiration and joy to Monet and his second wife, along with the many children they raised together through their combined families.  It was their private sanctuary.  A place of beauty, love, family, and connection to nature and each other.  A vibrant oasis that continued to offer solace and inspiration until the end of his life.

Over the years, he experimented with what was later to be called impressionism.  As with many master artists, he was maturing beyond the detailed disciplines of his foundational studies to find his own unique voice and style through the paint and brushes.  Curious about new ways of capturing the internal impressions stirred while experiencing the world.  How could one better depict the vibrancy and life emanating from an object itself?  Beyond mere definition or the tendency to name. 

A more sensitive chapter in Monet’s journey began after the death of his second wife (who he loved deeply). Then, not long after, the death of one of his sons.  It was during that time that the shadow of grief took hold and became all encompassing. He was no longer able to paint.  His heart so heavy with loss that it initially became unfathomable for him to even consider painting the vibrant colours of the flowers and garden, along with the memories of past joy and celebration it stirred.  His creative expression stopped.  Lost in the heartache.

This went on for several years until his long-time friend, French politician Georges Clemenseau, approached him with genuine concern and compassion and gently encouraged him to take up the brush and continue to paint.  Supporting him to move through his grief and heal.  Together they explored a new creative idea.  He was given a commission to paint large panels of the garden that would be displayed in such a way as to surround the individual in an immersive experience.  This would take place in a unique gallery setting designed to house the exhibition.  It would be created as a contemplative space. Images of Monet’s garden offered to the heart of each individual and a country as a soothing, healing experience.  As a monument to peace after the ravages of war.

During wartime when the town’s people were told to evacuate their homes in Giverny, Monet refused to leave his house and garden.  So many memories were held there.  It was not only his home, but his artist’s studio nestled in the beauty of nature.  While working each day he could hear the bombing and gun fire in the backdrop and would often bring vegetables from his garden to the wounded soldiers in the local hospital.  This gave him an even greater incentive to create an atmosphere of calm within the images.  As he was healing through his own grief, he was essentially bringing his heart to others through each brush stroke envisioning quiet service to those in need.

The war ended in 1918, and the full range of panels were negotiated to be displayed by 1922.  However, Monet being somewhat of a perfectionist, refused to share them until he finally deemed them to be complete, much to the challenge of the museum curators and politicians who had commissioned his work.  They were therefore not released until his death in 1926.  Then set for display in 1927.

But here is where the story becomes even more interesting. 

Perspective and the truth that art is a subjective experience turns this next life chapter of the paintings into another interesting exploration of human dynamics. 

Historically, war memorials and monuments often involve depictions of battle scenes or the plight of human conflict and resilience in the face of tragedy and destruction.  Heroic acts in service to a cause.  Instead, Monet took a different approach by offering images from the simple, quiet beauty of his garden and sanctuary.  At the time this was a new experiment in impressionism combined with an immersive experience. 

Unfortunately, when the exhibition opened it was not met with public enthusiasm.  The critics went wild denouncing his work, balking at the offering and instead of praising the brilliance of his decades of devotion and the heartfelt gift of gentle solice it was meant to be, they tore into his style of painting.  Completely and utterly missing the deeper essence at play.  Subtle yet profound in its simplicity.  Thank goodness Monet had died prior to witnessing this.  I suspect it would have been heartbreaking if he had been alive.

The critics were so harsh that it effected people visiting the gallery and as a result the space ended up being used for other activities and at various times panels were put over Monet’s paintings so other artist’s work could be displayed instead.  WWII brought bombings in Paris and the threat of the panels being destroyed completely, yet miraculously they survived almost unscathed with only minor damage to some which have since been restored.

It was only after WWII, in the 1950s, that renewed interest in the panels came full circle mainly from emerging abstract artists and the Museum of Modern Art in New York.  The brilliance of the paintings and their message was then taken more seriously and the full display revived for all to experience to this day.

For me, aside from the passion and determination of the artist himself, the greatest elements in this story are the power of simplicity, creativity and quiet rhythms to aid in healing.  Monet had had many personal losses along with being immersed in a region during WWI where young men facing battle were being injured or died daily.  He had experienced the impact of loss, grief and the conflict firsthand.

Within the over story, the diverse, stunning beauty of nature and images captured from his personal garden are truly an example of the microcosm of life itself.  His own heartfelt journey of discovery and refinement throughout a lifetime now on display for us all to learn from and be inspired by.  Moments of celebration, joy, laughter, connection interwoven later in grief and healing. 

Let us not forget the intimate power of a gentle, extended hand offering love, grace and empathy during challenging life transitions.

When received, this help can be a profound gift.  A tender yet meaningful invitation to aid in rediscovering the myriad of gifts life can offer.  Even in the moments when the prospect of true beauty may seem challenged ever to return within the sensitivity of one’s heart.