Picasso, the posterboy of so many “-isms” one would have thought the man himself would have a schism down the middle, once referred to Bonnard’s art as “a potpourri of indecision”. Indecisive, our dear Pablo would claim, because Pierre Bonnard couldn’t pin down a definitive color for the sky. At times blue, occasionally yellow and, when one lifted up his spectacles (for, indeed, Bonnard had rather curiously shaped lenses connected by an eccentric nose piece) perhaps blotted with a streak of pink. As for potpourri, well, that’s a debateable issue. Bonnard did concentrate his pieces within an intimate setting, particularly bathrooms (where small lacy bags of that sweet-smelling stuff can be found). While the art world was reeling from a toilet displayed in galleries, Bonnard chose, instead, to depict the homelier settings of his French residence.

Originally a founding member of Les Nabis – a group of artists who took their name from the Hebrew reading of Prophets and followed Gauguin’s Symbolist trail – Bonnard would eventually veer off track and developing a signature style that wasn’t quite Impressionism. In his paintings, a large number of which are currently displayed at the Met, Bonnard explores the precious interiors of his home in Le Bosquet, France.

Canvases are filled with Mediterranean hues of emerald, violet, turquoise and crimson. Yellow overtones are particularly plentiful, reflecting Bonnard’s experimentation and fascination with the color of light. A rather interesting still-life bears lemon-chrome shadows originally noted in Bonnard’s sketches. He used these raw drawings as reference images for future paintings. Viewers can find them exhibited at the gallery and literally glimpse the conception of his art. Bonnard believed more in the integrity of sustaining the impression – he would jot down the details with a specialized system of marks (for example, hatching would denote yellow while loops would indicate blue, etc.) and used rough drafts along with the layered, aged memories to paint his creations. Due to this deviation from standard Impressionistic technique, Bonnard’s still-lifes had room for wisps of mystery and last-minute modification missing in the dib-dab attitude of his contemporaries.

In a great many of his paintings, the viewer finds a female figure – mostly the artist’s wife Marthe – lurking right near the edges of the canvas, her head tilted and her expression ambiguous. Bonnard’s characters, visible only upon close observation, are usually performing mundane chores – pouring tea or leaning towards a dark dog’s omnipresent snout. Yet their ethereal, ghostly presence lends his pictures an other-worldly quality. Marthe is often almost overlooked as she sits, her body nearly unnoticeable by the patterned tablecloth, in the French Window (1932), bathes in thin blue water surrounded by the pale lavendar and citron tones In the Bathroom (1942) or closes and opens doorways softly in Marthe Entering Room (1942). The latter painting was completed shortly after her death, and in fact Marthe remains a model in additional works until 1947, the year of the artist’s own passing.

Despite encounters with tragedy and illness (in 1930, he would be confined to bed with only watercolor and gouache) Bonnard suffuses his canvases with rich color and a wealthy array of objects: cherries, raffias, mimosas, ceramic plates, fruit baskets, sugar bowls and even plum pits become the subjects of his compositions. All these items are frequently placed on inverted tabletops, a perspective trick that further toys with the spatial relationships and composition. Bonnard’s art thus has an air of mysterious beauty and sensitive detail that make life still and perpetuate that shimmery time that makes one unsure whether it’s Lunch or Breakfast (1932).