Mme Gautreau Drinking a Toast
circa 1883
The gâteau-shaped lamp
floating in the top corner looks like a precursor of the Chinese lanterns in
Sargent's Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (circa 1885-86),
though this one is far more 'impressionistic' and discreet in shape. It is
tiered with what seems like delicate, expandable paper or cloth that, if indeed
a source of light, veils the brightness in an eerie glow. As Mme holds her
glass with an outstretched arm, the viewer momentarily mistakes its conical
shape to be the lamp's support, only to realise that everything but its shade
is bathed in the velvety black that surges around the contours of the woman's
body.
She is bright and alive. Her skin is as
luminous as any light, but is ignited by a different source, perhaps. Suggestively
immodest, though not vulgar, she dreamily toasts with an unseen companion as
her swathe of mauve tulle hangs loosely around her shoulders. Its stiff panes
of material seem coarse against her body, but soft enough to echo the
powdery finish of the flower petals over which she extends her porcelain arm.
With her left elbow resting on the edge of the wooden table, the mahogany or
walnut of which mirrors the richness of her hair, she takes on a pose that
implies her self-confidence and ease with the situation. She is a woman in
control of her life and unaffected by customs, and most of all one who is aware
that at the end of every day comes the need to toast to the imminent arrival of
the next - like extinguishing a lamp, only to light it again.
