Edgar Degas’ colour palette of the 1870’s and 80’s can be characterised by his use of complementary colour palettes and strong pigments in conjunction with his reliance on soft, muted hues with contrasting values. He paints a powerful and expressive picture of nineteenth century Paris. In this article, I briefly look into the context of his work, and how we can recreate a palette he may have used.
Hilaire-Germain-Edgar Degas (1834 – 1917) was, although he would dispute it, at the forefront of the impressionist movement. Paris, his home for nearly the entirety of his life, underwent a huge transformation both socially and politically over the course of Degas’ lifetime, and through recording seemingly small aspects of everyday life, Degas’ work provides an underrepresented insight into Parisian culture during the 19th Century.
When you think of the work of Degas, it is likely that the first image that comes to mind would be one of a ballet dancer, or perhaps a jockey, or one of his many ‘Cafe’ scenes. His preoccupation with recording his rapidly changing city throughout the industrial revolution, alongside a period of social and political unrest, meant that the structure of society responded to its environment. The medieval city was renovated; Napoleon III and Baron Haussman designed and constructed huge boulevards that are synonymous with the Paris we know today. They transformed the city, and the erection of the Palais Garnier, parks and racecourses, meant that the populace with the means could treat the city like a playground. Degas, a member of the haute bourgeoisie, was also enabled by his family’s position to pursue his art. His societal position also afforded him access to ‘behind the scenes’, so to speak. Behind the curtain at the Opera, for example, was a place for the affluent patrons, and towards the latter of the nineteenth century it became associated with solicitation of young women and underground culture.
Degas’ preoccupation with the ballet, both on stage and behind the scenes, accounts for over fifteen hundred works across different mediums, and although it doesn’t overtly suggest the behaviour that is so clearly depicted by Beraud in ‘In the Wings of the Opera’, there is a sinister undertone to many of his paintings. Men in black clothing are depicted in the backdrop of many of his paintings, as shadowy figures, casting a different view on what, on the surface, appears to be a beautiful painting of a beautiful subject.
Degas worked in oil predominantly in his early career, training at the L’Ecole de Beaux Artes in Paris in historical art, of which the key element of the curriculum was learning from the masters, by direct copies or pastiche. It was during a research trip to the Louvre, the museum as a concept being a comparatively modern idea, that he met Edouard Manet. Manet and Degas friendship, although often fraught, would produce a huge catalogue of work as they encouraged and critiqued each other, through rivalry and ambition. Manet influenced a pivotal shift in Degas work, as he refocused his attention to recording the new Paris he was witnessing. Unlike the Impressionists, however, Degas treated working ‘en plein air’ with disdain, preferring to work from his studio and labelling himself a realist. He was influenced by contemporary mediums; he made sculptures of horses similar to Muybridge’s studies, he looked to Japanese printmaking for composition and cropping, he experimented with monotype and pastels became his medium of choice in later years.
Degas’ eyesight began to gradually deteriorate in 1870, and in the last two decades of his life his work became very vivid in colour. There is an argument to be made that this was impacted by changing trends – Degas had a lot of respect for Renoir, who was exaggerating colour and experimenting with palettes, but it could also be argued that the strong complementary palettes and concentrated hues were a natural continuation of his earlier practice. He became more reclusive in himself and more exuberant in his work – the colours became more vibrant, the palette more varied, and his use of saturated colours more dynamic. You can see in ‘Dancers, Pink and Green’ the shift that was occurring at the time – the marks are a touch more gestural than his earlier work, and the colour palette, although similar to earlier work in the pigments he favoured, more exaggerated. Although this painting is in oil, it has the impasto strokes and strong colour that became characteristic of his latest works.
For the purposes of this post, I have looked at work from the 1870’s and 1880’s. In an effort to focus I feel that perhaps, for me at least, these are some of Degas’ most instantly recognisable pieces. His depictions of women, from all walks of Parisian life, are arguably Degas’ main focus, and offered a fresh, contemporary view of his world, using a strong, yet cleverly constructed palette. There is not a lot of information available as to what pigments Degas used exactly – there is reference to Vermilion and Viridian and Yellow Ochre. Red Ochre, Chrome Green, Lead White, Bone Black and Vermilion have been found during x-ray of the Milliners. The Industrial revolution meant the introduction of aniline pigments, within fashion, decorative arts and fine art – the world then was not as grey as we might commonly perceive it to be, and new pigments were evolving rapidly.
To recreate Degas’ palette, using pigments that are widely available today. I chose Yellow Ochre, Burnt Sienna and Raw Umber, to represent neutral, warm and cool brown hues. Much of Degas work relies on subtle shifts of light and hue, and a prevailing undertone of very muted browns, blues and reds. I opted for Prussian Blue, to enable me to make dark blue greys and greens, alongside Viridian. I could have chosen Emerald Green here, as it appears he had used it, but he also used the new Viridian pigment, and in my opinion it’s a good representation of that very light, bright turquoise that appears in so many of Degas’ paintings. To be able to make a warmer green, I chose Cadmium Yellow Lemon, and when I combined the Yellow with Napthol Vermilion it made the bright oranges that Degas seemed to favour. Napthol Vermilion and Alizarin Crimson can create bright red pinks that glow on the canvas as well as deep dark red browns.
There is also reference to Degas working on pre-prepared surfaces, and plenty of evidence of it too. Degas worked in layers, gradually building paintings, sometimes over years after scraping down areas and rebuilding with different compositions. He often left areas of pigment more transparent, allowing the underlying colours to shine through. For example, in the Duchessa di Montejasi and her daughters, there is a light layer of a light green blue over the back wall behind the figures, that clearly shows a warm light grey or ochre base colour – perhaps a continuation of the sofa that the Duchess and her daughters appear to be sitting on.
This blue, although comparatively cool when isolated from the composition, has a certain transparency to it that allows it to feel that it is still part of this otherwise very warm hued piece. Even the black, that Degas used with such prevalence, appears warm due to the underpainting.
I attempted this palette using just five colours and white. It’s my opinion that Degas’ understanding of colour, value and mixing paint was second to none, and creating such varied paintings from a relatively limited palette seems to me to be a core underpinning of his practice. Degas’ use of framing is almost as important as his expertise in colour. His understanding of the importance of contrast, when leading the eye around an image, is apparent in The Dance Lesson.
Although there are strong pops of pure colour throughout the image, the warmest and darkest hues appear in the foreground – that warm orange, contrasted with the light, cool viridian in the wall and skirts makes for quite a powerful contrast and complementary colour statement. The slightly more muted, yet still warm and dark burnt sienna of the wall in the foreground emphasises, through contrast, the lightness and off white areas of the skirt. The appearance of what looks like a crimson in the centre of the painting, desaturated and also heavily lightened with white, appears on the dancers shoes and legs too, producing a cool light. I can’t be sure, as artificial pigments were advancing at an unprecedented rate at the time, and they could well have been present in the compositions he observed and later remembered, but I suggest that Degas used colour in an exaggerated sense – perhaps picking the underlying hue and pushing it further.
Degas repeatedly turned to women doing more day to day tasks, alongside the more ‘glamourous’ side of cafe culture and the Opera. Perhaps the muted palette of Woman ironing is reflective of the less vibrant setting.
To recreate this palette I swapped out the Napthol Vermilion for Alizarin Crimson. Mixing the Yellow Ochre into the Crimson made for a warm, rich brown, that it appears Degas used underneath the ochres of the subjects skin and clothing – it creates an outline to the figure bringing the attention to the face whilst not being starkly different in value. The contrast of the muddier palette of the skin, compared to the bright, light colours of the background light source, brings the viewers attention straight to the subject matter.
Degas had a wonderful capacity to use perhaps unrealistic colours and make them entirely believable. The colour of the subject’s hands appears to be the most saturated, and brightest, in the composition in my eyes, a warm orange pink that in reality, may not have been as vibrant as it Degas’ work suggests. It appears more so because of the desaturated colours surrounding it. Nevertheless, it emphasises the narrative of the painting – Degas was fascinated by repetitive movement, and the drudgery as much as the glamour of Parisian life. Her hands may well have been raw as a result of her labour, and didn’t Degas identify as a ‘realist’, afterall?
I have learnt much about colour through looking at Degas’ work. I should have perhaps provided a caveat for this post – ‘I am not really an oil painter but I do love colour’. His understanding of all the fundamentals of drawing underpin his exceptional use of selective colour palettes. He pushed his own palettes, but returned to favourite pigments; he tried complementary and harmonious palettes, desaturated and highly saturated, but always informed by the world he was observing – even though that was absolutely never ‘en plein air’, which is a very different approach to my own practice. Perhaps there is something to be said for just observing, from afar, and mentally recording your world? It certainly heightened Degas’ experience of the new dyes and pigments, artificial lights and contemporary Parisian culture that he was so deeply embedded in. Degas’ was always looking for something new too; perhaps I should take my learning a step further, and try oil paint.
Further Reading
The Making of ‘The Peasants’, a Painted Film
David Stewart: an Evolving Relationship With Painting
Recreating Philip Guston’s Grimy Pink Palette
Impressionist Painting Techniques
Shop Oil Painting on jacksonsart.com
Great, thank you.
So interesting! I hadn’t noticed those men in
the background or I thought they were ballet
teacher (naive me). Note: École des beaux
arts.
Intriguing article … !!!
Frances – that was really interesting and
you did a lovely job. Thank you for
taking the time to create all of those
beautiful palettes!
What a fabulous informative and
interesting article. I really enjoyed it
and found that it has excited me
enough to want to be braver with use of
overlaying colour.