Frédéric Bazille (1841-1870) "Young Woman with Peonies" (1870) Oil on canvas Impressionism Located in the National Gallery of Art, Washington DC, United States

Portrait of Auguste Renoir painted by Frederic Bazille (1841 - 1870)

Black Woman with Peonies, Frédéric Bazille, 1870

Frédéric Bazille (French,1841-1870)

Young Woman with Peonies, 1870

oil on canvas

Frédéric Bazille

Jean Frédéric Bazille, Atelier de la rue Furstenberg (Studio on Rue Furstenberg), 1866

Studio on Rue Furstenberg belongs to an increasing trend of Impressionist painting that depicted the artist's workspace, which Bazille once shared with Claude Monet. The painting shows two disheveled armchairs surrounded by supplies and a doorway that leads to two small bedrooms. While no one knows who is using the studio, the paintings on the wall appear to be Monet's The Beach at Honfleur (1864) and Road by Saint-Siméon Farm (1867), partnered by Bazille's Beach at Sainte-Adress (1865). While Impressionism is known for its landscapes, the only reference to the outside world we see here is a cracked window door, through which a grey sky is visible. Judging by the real life geography of this studio, located close to the Louvre, the window is positioned to look out at a studio space where the artist Eugène Delacroix would have worked. The composition of the studio here is thought to reference Studio Corner with Stove (1830), a painting by Delecroix, whom both Bazille and Monet greatly admired.

Looking into the Garden

Life and Love

Geraniums by Childe Hassam

Portrait by a Neighbour

Before she has her floor swept Or her dishes done, Any day you’ll find her A-sunning in the sun!

It’s long after midnight Her key’s in the lock, And you never see her chimney smoke Till past ten o’clock!

She digs in her garden With a shovel and a spoon, She weeds her lazy lettuce By the light of the moon.

She walks up the walk Like a woman in a dream, She forgets she borrowed butter And pays you back cream!

Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne’s lace!

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

Paysage au Bord du Lez by Frederic Bazille

Heartsease Country

TO ISABEL SWINBURNE

The far green westward heavens are bland, The far green Wiltshire downs are clear As these deep meadows hard at hand: The sight knows hardly far from near, Nor morning joy from evening cheer. In cottage garden-plots their bees Find many a fervent flower to seize And strain and drain the heart away From ripe sweet-williams and sweet-peas At every turn on every way.

But gladliest seems one flower to expand Its whole sweet heart all round us here; ’Tis Heartsease Country, Pansy Land. Nor sounds nor savours harsh and drear Where engines yell and halt and veer Can vex the sense of him who sees One flower-plot midway, that for trees Has poles, and sheds all grimed or grey For bowers like those that take the breeze At every turn on every way.

Content even there they smile and stand, Sweet thought’s heart-easing flowers, nor fear, With reek and roaring steam though fanned, Nor shrink nor perish as they peer. The heart’s eye holds not those more dear That glow between the lanes and leas Where’er the homeliest hand may please To bid them blossom as they may Where light approves and wind agrees At every turn on every way.

Sister, the word of winds and seas Endures not as the word of these Your wayside flowers whose breath would say How hearts that love may find heart’s ease At every turn on every way.

—Charles Algernon Swinburne

Picking Flowers by Auguste Renoir

The Flower's Name

Here's the garden she walked across, Arm in my arm, such a short while since: Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss Hinders the hinges and makes them wince! She must have reached this shrub ere she turned, As back with that murmur the wicket swung; For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned, To feed and forget it the leaves among. Down this side of the gravel-walk She went while her robe's edge brushed the box: And here she paused in her gracious talk To point me a moth on the milk-white phlox. Roses, ranged in valiant row, I will never think that she passed you by! She loves you, noble roses, I know; But yonder, see, where the rock-plants lie! This flower she stopped at, finger on lip, Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim; Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip, Its soft meandering Spanish name: What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake. Roses, if I live and do well, I may bring her, one of these days, To fix you fast with as fine a spell, Fit you each with his Spanish phrase; But do not detain me now; for she lingers There, like sunshine over the ground, And ever I see her soft white fingers Searching after the bud she found. Flower, you Spaniard, look that you grow not, Stay as you are and be loved forever! Bud, if I kiss you 't is that you blow not, Mind, the shut pink mouth opens never! For while it pouts, her fingers wrestle, Twinkling the audacious leaves between, Till round they turn and down they nestle— Is not the dear mark still to be seen? Where I find her not, beauties vanish; Whither I follow her, beauties flee; Is there no method to tell her in Spanish June 's twice June since she breathed it with me? Come, bud, show me the least of her traces, Treasure my lady's lightest footfall! —Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces— Roses, you are not so fair after all!

—Robert Browning

Still Life with Flowers by Edouard Manet

Fisherman with a Net | Frederic Bazille | 1868

Flowers, 1870 by Frederic Bazille (1841-1870)

Frédéric Bazille, Woman with Peonies, 1870, oil/canvas (Musée Fabre, Montpellier)

Frédéric Bazille Jeune fille au piano 1866-67

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841-1919) "Portrait of Frédéric Bazille Painting" (1867) Oil on canvas Impressionism

Studio in the rue de Furstenberg painted by Frederic Bazille (1841 - 1870)

Bazille's Studio, Frédéric Bazille, 1870

Paul Verlaine jeune homme, huile sur toile de Frédéric Bazille signée F. Bazille et datée 1867, toile anciennement attribuée à Gustave Courbet.

Frédéric Bazille