The Pointillist Dilemma: Can Painstaking Precision Express or Elicit Passion? 

Henry van de Verde (1863-1957) - Avondschemer (Twilight) c.1889. Oil on Canvas

I recently visited an exhibition of Pointillist works. (‘Radical Harmony’ is at the National Gallery, London until 8 February, 2026.)

‘Some say they see poetry in my paintings; I see only science.’
Georges Seurat

Pointillism is the painting technique whereby small, distinct dots of pure, complementary colours are applied in patterns to form an image. Developed by artists such as Georges Seurat and Paul Signac in the 1880s, it was based on colour theory and the study of optics. Viewed from a distance, the colours were believed to ‘blend in the eye’ to create vibrant, nuanced tones and an illusion of light.

Georges Seurat (1859 -1891) - Le Bec du Hoc, Grandcamp 1885. Oil on Canvas

The artists themselves balked at the term Pointillism. (Seurat and Signac preferred Divisionism.) However it was labelled, the approach particularly lent itself to landscapes. Blue and orange, red and green, yellow and white dots and dabs cohere to form waves lapping against sandy beaches, clouds melting into the horizon, dunes extending into the distance. In the soft morning light, boats are moored by the river, birds flutter over jagged rocks, a lighthouse looms on a far-away shore. At dusk a lone, hunched woman treads the village path, deep in thought.

These shimmering outdoor scenes, verging on abstraction, seem still and silent. They have an austere, dream-like, spiritual beauty.

This distinctive artistic movement was regarded as radical in its time. Camille Pissarro called it ‘a new phase in the logical march of Impressionism.’

Maximilien Luce (1858-1941) - Morning, Interior (1890). Oil on Canvas

However, some in the art establishment were sceptical of Pointillism’s scientific basis and painstaking process, describing it as ‘the death of painting.’ One critic complained of 'landscapes that look as though they have been made by artillery and confetti.'

Some of the Pointillists shared an interest in anarcho-communism – a political movement which championed the rights of working people. In an increasingly industrialised age, they painted the struggles of the lower classes, or an idealised vision of social harmony. 

Sunlight streams into a modest room, as an artisan puts on his boots to start his day. Teams of men are silhouetted by the blazing blast furnace. On the evening before a strike, a man holds his hands to his head in despair.

‘Justice in sociology, harmony in art: same thing.’
Paul Signac

Paul Signac (1863-1935) - La Salle à Manger (The Dinning Room) c1886. Oil on canvas.

The Pointillists also turned their attention to portraits and interior scenes.  

In the summer heat, five women in white linen relax in an orchard. Another sits in the garden, absorbed in her book. A lady shows off her bright orange dress. A husband stokes the fire, while his wife turns away to look out of the window. It’s breakfast-time in a middle-class home: as the maid brings the morning newspaper, the mistress sips her coffee and an elderly man puffs at his cigar, in solemn silence.

The figures can come across as somewhat isolated, lost in their own worlds. There is an intimation of boredom and domestic estrangement.

This sense of the uncanny, of alienation, may be by design. But one also suspects that these images display the limitations of the style. In adhering to academic rigour, in painstakingly applying the technique, there seems a stiffness, a loss of passion and emotion. The pictures come across as rather bloodless.

This poses a challenge for anyone working in a creative discipline. We may on occasion fall slaves to method and ideology. Sometimes executional exactitude and obsession with detail can constrain us. We must always leave room for true expression and raw emotion. 

Pointillism captured the imagination of the artistic avant-garde for a number of years. Pissarro and Vincent Van Gogh experimented with their own versions of the technique, the latter employing strokes rather than dots. But the approach was restrictive, a cul-de-sac. In his later work, Signac became increasingly spontaneous, and other Pointillists gave up its rigours entirely. Seurat, who occasionally criticised his fellow artists for their lack of intellectual purity, continued to adhere to the theory. However, in 1891 he died, aged just 31. As the decade progressed, Pointillism’s influence waned.


'If you really love him,
And there′s nothing I can do,
Don't try to spare my feelings,
Just tell me that we′re through.
And make it easy on yourself,
Make it easy on yourself.
'Cause breaking up is so very hard to do.
And if the way I hold you
Can't compare to his caress.
No words of consolation
Will make me miss you less.
My darling, if this is goodbye,
I just know I′m gonna cry.
So run to him,
Before you start crying too.
And make it easy on yourself,
Make it easy on yourself.
‘Cause breaking up is so very hard to do.’
Jerry Butler, '
Make It Easy on Yourself’ (B Bacharach, H David)

No. 547

SUBSCRIBE

After Impressionism: ‘Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?’

Edouard Vuillard Portrait of Lugne-Poe 1891
Memorial Art Gallery of the University of Rochester (New York)

I recently attended ‘After Impressionism,’ an excellent show tracing the development of modern art between the last Impressionist Exhibition of 1886 and the outbreak of the First World War. (The National Gallery, London until 13 August)

The exhibition considers how artists at the dawn of the twentieth century were inspired by the Impressionist spirit of revolution and renewal; and how innovative creative thinking subsequently blossomed across Europe in new cultural hotspots - Barcelona, Berlin, Brussels and Vienna.

Impressionism was characterised by the quest to capture the fleeting moment; the reality of the world around us - with swift strokes of the brush and colours true to the artist’s experience. 

In the wake of this radical movement, Cezanne explored the underlying structures in nature - in landscape, portrait and still life – applying planes of colour that laid the foundations of Cubism. Gaugin went beyond representation of the natural world, using symbolism to convey personal memories and mystical experience. Van Gogh employed bold outlines and ever more intense hues that were charged with emotion. Seurat turned to science to translate light into colour through small dots of complimentary tones. Bonnard and Vuillard flattened their images, giving tranquil domestic scenes a decorative quality.

Vincent Van Gogh - Enclosed Field with Ploughman, 1889

During this period artists looked beyond Europe for inspiration, drawing on Japanese woodblock prints, Polynesian carved objects and African masks.

The creative community thought deeply and debated avidly about the direction they should take with their work. Artists conferred with like-minded modernist writers and formed groups with cool names like the Twenty, the Prophets, the Wild Animals and the Secession. They wrote essays and published journals; held dissident exhibitions and launched radical manifestos.

‘We are tired of the everyday, the near-at-hand, the contemporaneous: we wish to be able to place the symbol in any period, even in dreams.’
Gustave Kahn ‘La Response des Symbolistes’

Hilaire-Germain-Edgar Degas - Combing the Hair ('La Coiffure'). National Gallery, London

The result of all this upheaval and questioning was a period of stunning creative output, diverse in style and approach. At the exhibition you can see Cezanne’s ‘Mont Sainte-Victoire’, a majestic landscape reduced to geometric shapes; Klimt’s ‘Hermine Gallia’, a society lady shimmering in white chiffon; Degas’ ‘Combing the Hair’, an intimate moment all aglow with intoxicating orange. Gaugin presents us with the patriarch Jacob wrestling with an angel, observed by bonneted Breton women. It’s a woozy, dreamlike image. Munch’s ‘Death Bed’ reveals grief in the raw. Mondrian races towards Abstraction before our eyes. And in Ramon Casas’ ‘The Automobile’ an elegant woman drives a car directly at us, headlamps blazing. It is as if she is hurtling towards the future.

‘With faith in growth and in a new generation of creators and those who enjoy art, we call all young people together, and as the young that bear the future within it we shall create for ourselves elbowroom and freedom of life as opposed to the well-entrenched older forces. Everyone who renders directly and honestly whatever drives him to create is one of us.’
German Expressionist Manifesto

The exhibition suggests that people working in the creative industries should be arguing, discussing and debating ideas. We should be pioneering new perspectives and practices; experimenting with new partners and inputs.

It prompts us to reflect on our craft: Can we describe what makes our work different? What defines our generation’s outlook and output, in contrast to what has gone before? 

One of Gaugin’s paintings of 1897-8 was entitled ‘Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?’ Perhaps we should be asking the same questions.

 

'If you could read my mind, love,
What a tale my thoughts could tell.
Just like an old time movie
About a ghost from a wishing well,
In a castle dark or a fortress strong,
With chains upon my feet.
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free.
As long as I'm a ghost, you can't see.’

Gordon Lightfoot, ‘If You Could Read My Mind'

No. 423

SUBSCRIBE