RIHA Journal 0343 | 27 February 2026

Bourgeois Consumerism and Neo-Impressionist Anarchism: Extremes Meet

Lieske Tibbe

Abstract
This study analyses the relationship between the two paintings of bourgeois interiors by Paul Signac (Salle à manger, 1886–1887, and Un Dimanche, 1888–1890) and contemporary literature on interior design. Authoritative information books on interior design were the publications of Henry Havard, especially LArt dans la maison (1884) and La Décoration (1892). Signac’s artistic theories were embedded in anarchist ideology; those of Havard were in line with the emerging consumer society and the state of French industry. Yet both appear to have used the same scientific-theoretical sources for a fundamental part. In the paintings as well as in the furnishing advices this can be seen in the choice and arrangement of furniture, but especially in (regulations about) the application of colours and lines, whether or not aimed at psychological influencing. The similarities are striking. A shared confidence in progress through science linked divergent ideologies.

Introduction

[1] Two interior paintings by Paul Signac (1863–1935) are the starting point for this study: La Salle à manger. Opus 152 (The Dining Room, 1886–1887; Fig. 1) and Un Dimanche (Sunday, 1888–1890; Fig. 2). As portrayals of bourgeois interiors, the paintings stand apart in Signac’s oeuvre.1 It is generally assumed that Signac intended these interior paintings as social criticism. As a convinced anarchist he rejected the bourgeois lifestyle, in which having the means to escape from social worries into the safe shelter of private life and to build oneself a nest filled with furniture and decoration, was considered an important value. The interior paintings are thus seen as critical commentaries on the behaviour and morals of the exploitative class. The connection of Signac’s anarchist convictions with his interior paintings has been dealt with extensively by John G. Hutton, in his Neo-Impressionism and the Search for Solid Ground (1994), and by Robyn Roslak in her publication "Artisans, Consumers and Corporeality in Signac’s Parisian Interiors" (2006).2

1 Paul Signac, La Salle à manger. Opus 152, 1886–1887, oil on canvas, 89,5 × 116,5 cm. Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo (photograph: Google Arts & Culture)

2 Paul Signac, Un Dimanche, 1888–1890, oil on canvas, 150 × 150 cm. Private Collection (photograph: Wikimedia Commons)

[2] As part of her analysis, Roslak contrasts Signac’s Salle à manger with a passage in L’Art dans la maison. Grammaire de l’ameublement (Art in the Home. A Grammar of Furnishing), 1884, a voluminous, four-part book by French art historian and art critic Henry Havard (1838–1921). At the time, this was a frequently consulted book on interior design; in 1891, it was even designated by the French government as the official textbook for the decorative arts in all teacher training courses (Fig. 3).3

3 Front cover of Henry Havard, L’Art dans la maison, Paris 1894

The passage Roslak refers to eulogises the dining table and its role in the family:

The table is the true conjunction of life. It is, in a way, the refuge, the blessed haven where, in the ease of pleasant conversation we come to relax from the stresses of the outside world. It is the altar where we sacrifice daily to the pure joys of family and friendship. In short, it constitutes the surest bond for keeping around the same hearth those whom their own interests or engagements would tend to draw away from home.4

In L’Art dans la maison one can also find statements about family life with regard to the type of room portrayed in Un Dimanche: there the fireplace with the chimney is presented as a centre of domestic comfort.5

[3] Judging solely by the illustrations in Havard’s book, today’s reader will typically see the interior of the wealthy bourgeois, who furnished his house in a consumerist way with luxury objects or knick-knacks. But on reading, it becomes clear that Havard assumed that middle-class family values could be achieved through a home designed on rational principles. His advice takes the form of strict rules, and the remarkable thing is that in many cases these are reminiscent of the principles of Neo-Impressionist colour and line theories, however different the end results may be.

[4] It is not known whether Signac was actually familiar with Havard’s book. However, one could say that, in his paintings, Signac criticised bourgeois morality as it manifested itself in L’Art dans la maison, and attacked the interiors described therein. The present study will examine the means by which Havard 'constructed' interiors, and compare them to the artistic means by which Signac as it were broke them down. To what sources did both go back?

Consumer society and its downsides

[5] Several authors have studied the rise of consumer society towards the end of the nineteenth century, especially in France and specifically in Paris. There, a concentration of factors favoured consumer behaviour in the field of home furnishings: the dominance of the bourgeois lifestyle in the social order, the 'Hausmannisation' of Paris resulting in a large number of new apartments to furnish, and the position of women in the bourgeois household as non-breadwinners but as guardians of the domestic hearth. Women had the opportunity to combine leisure, consumerist needs and status confirmation in the form of shopping. The new shopping boulevards and department stores, and the influx of industrially manufactured products, filled the needs of this public.6

[6] However, behind the scenes the French luxury industry was not doing well. For centuries, France had held a leading position in the production of fashion and home furnishings, or articles de Paris. Towards the end of the nineteenth century it still had, but in France industrialisation had started late, and the production of clothing and furniture still mainly took place in small workshops of independent craftsmen or family businesses. The result was a high quality of workmanship, but also a high price, which caused a downfall of exports of this type of goods and a rise of imports. The import mainly consisted of industrial products, often imitating French taste but much cheaper. In order to survive, craftsmen were forced to work more economically; that is, either faster and with less care, or more, resulting in extended working days.7 The French government was aware of the stagnation and impending decline. In the 1880s, Marius Vachon (1850–1928), art critic and author of many books on art, architecture and the applied arts, was commissioned by the French government for several inspection tours to educational institutions and museums of applied arts and technology in France and throughout Europe. He was asked to investigate whether these institutions could inject new life into the declining French industries. His reports were alarming: "Our industry is in danger!"8

Guidelines for the inexperienced consumer

[7] The need for information of a consumerist bourgeoisie on the one hand, and the impending decline of traditional French industry on the other, explain the flood of publications on home furnishing intended to steer the behaviour of the domiciliary consumer in the right direction. The bourgeois consumer, who, as a cultural newcomer, was supposed to have no taste, had to be informed. The wealthiest part of this market segment had to be persuaded that the French high-quality handicrafts were something exclusive to those with fine taste, something that rose above the commercial mass-produced market product. The slightly less well-off public should be instructed how to deal decently with industrial products; it had to learn to select and combine, in line with the rules of good taste. It was by following advices of experts that this public would be able to find "the formula, so keenly desired, of democratic furniture, graceful in form, convenient, easy to maintain, cheerful in appearance, and at the same time not very expensive, – this last condition becoming more essential every day".9 Several goals could be served by a well-founded design of the interior: to show off one’s own good taste, and at the same time to support French industry and to uphold the reputation of French taste. Furnishing one’s home was respectable, and a matter of decency. To dress with taste all facets of existence, not just materially but also concerning behaviour and habits was for the good of the nation. 'Consumerist citizenship' became a norm.10 In Grammaire des arts décoratifs, a publication on interior decoration by Charles Blanc (1882), it is argued that it was an act of decency to keep the house attractive – both for one’s own morale and out of politeness to visitors.11

[8] This Grammaire by Charles Blanc can be seen as a precursor to the above-mentioned L’Art dans la maison by Henry Havard (which has the subtitle Grammaire de l’ameublement). Havard’s book is strictly systematic in its approach and claims to be based on objective, rational principles that should control subjective judgements.12 Havard explicitly states his intention to counterbalance the prevailing lack of taste in the furniture field. Today’s buyers, he felt, lacked the habituation and training in good taste that in former times passed down from generation to generation. Moreover, the complex system of the distribution of goods in contemporary society had disrupted a direct understanding of the manufacturing processes of furniture, while techniques were changing fast. L’Art dans la maison intended to give future buyers some understanding of manufacturing techniques and to offer an overview of frequently used applications. In this way the client could acquire something of the former self-evident 'initiation'. In the third chapter of the book, a systematic 'grammar' is offered to the reader so that he might have at his disposal 'rules' dictated by experience; these 'grammatical rules' are formulated as propositions, with Roman numerals.13 Apparently this 'grammar' met a need: the book was reprinted several times.

[9] In the 1890s, various disciplines of interior design dealt with in L’Art dans la maison were elaborated separately in a series called Les Arts de l’ameublement, composed by Havard on behalf of the Ministère de l’Instruction publique et des Beaux-Arts.14 The introduction of this series also states that it should fill gaps in the public’s knowledge.15 Each volume deals with a specific branch of interior art: wainscotingand cupboards, small furniture, applications of bronze and metal in the interior, clocks, tapestries, coverings and carpets, glass and ceramics. In addition, Havard, in collaboration with Marius Vachon, wrote a book on traditional French industries: the carpets and tapestries of Gobelins, Savonnerie and Beauvais, and the pottery and porcelain of Sèvres. Vachon added another work on all possible branches of art and industry dealing with 'paper'.16

[10] The series Les Arts de l’ameublement comes to a close with a volume entitled La Décoration (1892), in which, just as in the 'grammar' chapter of the 1884 L’Art dans la maison, rules or statements, numbered with Roman numerals, are given concerning the design of interiors. While the 1884 "Grammaire" contains fifty such paragraphs, the 1892 La Décoration expands to twice that number. Havard’s 'grammatical' propositions serve as the 'building blocks' of good interior design.

[11] The final chapter of L’Art dans la maison argues that with the help of the "éducation" given in the previous chapters, the reader should be able to assemble his own interiors. As additional aids, examples are given of responsibly furnished entry rooms, reception rooms, private living rooms and (non-essential) ancillary rooms. In total, eighteen rooms are described. Among them are the rooms Signac depicted, the dining room and the petit salon.

The dining room

[12] Signac’s Salle à manger (Fig. 1) bears little resemblance to the place described by Havard where the "pure joys of family life and friendship" are celebrated. There is little pleasure to be seen. The painting has a calm, static composition with little movement; it consists of large areas of colour and a simple interplay of lines. The title suggests that the room itself is the subject of the painting: a comfortable interior, part of a prosperous but not ostentatious lifestyle. The massive figure of the cigar-smoking elderly gentleman in the foreground dominates the scene: his portly stature, as it were, represents this lifestyle and the family’s prosperity. Signac is said to have painted his Salle à manger in the house he was living in at the time: that of his grandfather, sitting here with his mother at the table. However, these are not portraits, but rather 'types': the figures are stylised, like silhouettes in rigid poses, as if frozen. The characters seem isolated from each other; their gazes and gestures are not related to each other. There is no interaction.

[13] Whether Signac made use of Havard’s book or not, the arrangement of the room incorporates a number of elements that also appear in L’Art dans la maison. For instance, the shape of the table: Havard enthusiastically promoted the round or oval dining table, preferably an extendable one. Such a table could be smoothly adapted to different circumstances and had no empty corners that were unpleasant to see. Everyone had an equal number of companions seated beside or opposite them; moreover it diminished theinequality of seating and softened the hierarchical progression. The introduction of the round table had to do with sociability, with cordiality in familial contacts.17 Such an oval table can be seen in Signac’s painted dining room.

[14] This equality and cordiality in interaction did not extend to servants. They had to move silently: "The ideal of a fine diner is that food is served and cleared away without our noticing it."18 This also seems to be the case in Salle à manger: it shows no direct communication between the family and the maidservant. The servants’ noiselessness had to be achieved by a carpet or floor covering, also useful to keep the feet of the eating company warm. Apart from that, there should not be too much textile in a dining room: no draperies or fabric wall coverings, no heavy textile furniture coverings, as textiles absorbed food odours like a sponge.19

[15] It was a matter of discussion how warm or cold it should be in dining rooms (the crackling of the fireplace could also be disturbing), but Havard preferred a north-facing location so that the midday sun or the setting sun would not interfere annoyingly. The painting’s blue-based colour scheme might represent light from the north. Furthermore, according to Havard, no elements should be present that could interfere with the dining experience. Too much decoration on the walls should be avoided, with at most a painting that did not attract too much attention or some pottery. All attention had to be concentrated on the table, where a damask tablecloth, symmetrically folded damask napkins and 'modern' tableware had to set the scene. Lush displays of crystal, Havard thought unnecessary; they are not in this picture either.20 Havard was explicitly opposed to cut crystal: it might be excellent in terms of technique, but artistically it no longer represented progress.21

[16] Especially with regard to the latter, there is a notable difference with Le Déjeuner (The Luncheon, 1876) by Gustave Caillebotte (1848–1894). This artist has also depicted his own family, and the two works have been compared several times in art-historical literature.22 However, the sparkling crystal tableware, the heavy curtains and plush chairs, the buffet with 'show pieces' and the seemingly obvious interaction with the servant here show a dining room that was clearly not set up according to Havard’s guidelines (Fig. 4). Caillebotte, not an anarchist like Signac, probably did not intend to criticise the richly crystal-covered table, but rather wanted to turn it into a daring composition. The well-to-do Caillebotte family obviously had a comfortable and pleasant family life.

4 Gustave Caillebotte (1848–1894), Le Déjeuner, 1876, oil on canvas, 52 × 75 cm. Private Collection (photograph: Wikimedia Commons)

[17] Grandfather Jules Signac is said to have been an open-minded, amiable man who liked to see his grandson’s artist friends come over.23 However, independent of real relationships within the family, Signac’s Salle à manger (Fig. 1) does not look like a highpoint of conviviality and security. Here, the round table recommended by Havard does not promote communication. The stiff-standing maidservant looks like a caricature of Havard’s discreet servants.

The sitting room

[18] The title of Signac’s Un Dimanche refers to how a bourgeois couple spends their leisure time in a comfortably furnished petit salon. According to Havard, it was the 'duty' of such a room, "As a place of permanent residence […] to be in harmony with those who spend a good part of their lives within its walls".24 In Signac’s painting (Fig. 2), brownish, reddish, and violet tones make up the main palette, and the clothing of the figures is in keeping with this; the room seems to envelop them as a "warm and homely nest", as Havard prescribes.25 However, there is no unity between the characters themselves: they stand and sit with their backs to each other, at opposite corners of the painting. The woman stares outside, the man, turned away from her, pokes the fireplace. The diagonal composition reinforces the distance: in the parquet floor, sharp angles take over the diagonal rhythm, as does in a less pronounced formthe cat, which fills the empty corner at the bottom left and at the same time forms the transition to the pattern of the rug.26

[19] According to Havard, the dining room made part of the reception apartments (appartements de réception), where guests could be received; these included the salon and the petit salon. The first salon was for visits and conversations of a more or less formal character, the second for friends and relatives. This intimate part of the house, where the residents spent the most and best of their time, had to be an expression of their personal taste and preferences. Havard advised an arrangement of small occasional tables and otherpieces of furniture that could easily be moved and replaced, and an assortment of decorative objects that had to be harmoniously combined (as opposed to the grand salon, that had to be more representative and static): "Without being cluttered, our small living room will therefore offer a graceful assembly of beautiful furniture from different periods and in various styles".27 Soft carpets and rich textiles should envelop the residents, especially with winter in mind. The centre of all this comfort had to be the fireplace, accentuated by a small but elegant marble surround. Chairs and side tables could be arranged around it if desired (Fig. 5).28

5 Example of a petit salon, reproduced from Henry Havard, L’Art dans la maison, Paris 1884, 364

[20] For the floor covering, Havard recommended avoiding figurative motifs: what could be more ridiculous than sitting on a windmill, or standing in the middle of a mountain stream wearing a tail coat? Tried and tested motifs such as garlands, trophies and cartouches suited the shape of a carpet much better. After all, a carpet was not a painting, and simple patterns worked in flat tones were also more resistant to wear. And a clear closing border was absolutely necessary.29 The same can be seen in Signac’s painting (Fig. 2). But all in all, the sought-after pleasantness turns into the opposite: this painting was and is regarded as a criticism of the bourgeois marriage, with spouses who lead a life of boredom and purposelessness amid unnecessary luxury trinkets. To treat one’s home as a shelter for one’s private life from the harsh, cold outside world can become a kind of prison.

[21] Former authors have linked Un Dimanche back to two compositional or ideological examples: Intérieur, femme à la fenêtre (Interior, Woman at the Window, 1880) by Caillebotte (Fig. 6) and a print by Lucien Pissarro (1863–1944), Pendant la fête de 14 juillet: ceux qui boudent (July 14 Celebration: Those Who Sulk) in the magazine La vie moderne in July 1888 (Fig. 7) – the same year as Un Dimanche. Lucien Pissarro, anarchist like Signac, here made a reference to the festive commemoration day of the French Revolution, which a bored bourgeois couple could not enjoy. However, these works offer few possibilities for comparison as far as the depiction of the interiors is concerned.30

6 (left) Gustave Caillebotte, Intérieur, femme à la fenêtre, 1880, oil on canvas, 116 × 89 cm. Private collection (photograph: Wikimedia Commons) | 7 (right) Lucien Pissarro (1863–1944), Pendant la fête de 14 Juillet – Ceux qui boudent, 1888, reproduced from La Vie moderne, July 22, 1888

Kropotkin and the ugliness of daily life

[22] But through another angle, a comparison can be made with Le Café (1892) by Maximilien Luce (1858–1941), Signac’s ally both artistically and politically. Le Café (Fig. 8) was made using the same Neo-Impressionist process as Signac’s paintings. The similarity in its diagonal composition and arrangement of the figures is striking. It might be seen as an intentional or unintentional contrast to Un Dimanche: an interior scene with a seated man in the foreground at the fireplace, and a standing woman in the background, here not at the window but in the doorway. However, this is a modest working-class interior, devoid of any luxury. Here, the man sits in the same bent-over position, which accentuates the diagonal composition of the painting. However, he is not wearily poking the fireplace, but pouring coffee with simple kitchen utensils. The woman is also usefully busy, sweeping the floor.

[23] Was Le Café intended as a commentary on Un Dimanche? As a radical opposition to the bourgeois milieu, rather than just a criticism? If so, we could say that Havard, republican and nationalist, criticised tasteless bourgeois consumerism and wanted to make home furnishing an artistic and rational process; anarchist Signac criticised the result, using Neo-Impressionism as a provocative painting style; in turn, Luce criticised both by shifting the focus to modest living conditions.

8 Maximilien Luce (1858–1941), Le café, 1892, 81 × 65 cm, oil on canvas. Private collection (photograph: Bridgeman Images)

[24] This could have to do with differing views on the function of art within anarchism. As anarchists, both Signac and Luce were most likely familiar with the writings of the anarchist theorist Pyotr Kropotkin (1842–1923). Statements on art occupy only a minor place in Kropotkin’s writings, but in a few places he did address artists directly with ideas about a revolutionary art practice, for instance in Paroles d’un révolté (Words of a Rebel, 1885). Here, Kropotkin calls on idealistic middle-class youth, and especially intellectuals and artists, to say goodbye to the social milieu in which they had been raised, and join the people’s side:

And you, poets, painters, sculptors, musicians, if you have understood your true missions and the interests of your art as well, come and put your pen, your brush, your chisel at the service of the revolution. Retell, in your prose rich with images or on your gripping canvases, the titanic struggles of the peoples against their oppressors; inflame the hearts of the young with the marvellous revolutionary breath which inspired our ancestors.31

In a later publication, La Conquête du pain (The Conquest of Bread, 1892), Kropotkin wrote that artists had to participate in the life of the people: to harvest together with farmers and cast nets at night with fishermen, in order to see through their eyes the strength and beauty of nature. Likewise, they had to experience with factory workers their toil and exhaustion, but also how they mastered the machines, and to share their pride and joy of productive work: "You must, in fact, be permeated with popular feelings, to describe them."32 Luce did respond to Kropotkin’s call to share the existence of the people and to express that in painting. He gave sympathetic Neo-Impressionist portrayals of manual workers’ families in their simple living environments.33

[25] But this was not the path chosen by Signac. From 1892 onwards, he spent more and more time in the Saint-Tropez area on the Mediterranean coast. From that time on, his themes shifted from critique of capitalist urban life to representations of the anarchist ideal of a peaceful rural society in harmony with the natural environment. This was still in line with Kropotkin’s intentions: artists needed to show the people what life could be like if it were not tainted by capitalist society.34 In Paroles d’un révolté Kropotkin had stated: "Show the people what is ugly in present-day life, and put your finger on the causes of that ugliness; tell us what a rational life might be if it did not have to stumble at every step because of the ineptitude and the ignominies of the present social order."35 It is questionable whether Kropotkin meant by this passage that the critical rendering of pretentious bourgeois interiors was a task for painters.36 In any case, in contemporary realist art, he criticised the indiscriminate rendering of both the mud of the sewer and the boudoirs of gallant ladies. If the young artists continued in this vein, the fire in their hearts would be extinguished and their art would degenerate.37 In La Conquête du pain Kropotkin in this respect referred not so much to the portrayal of contemporary dominating ugliness, but to what John Ruskin (1819–1900) and William Morris (1834–1896) in words and deeds had shown as a remedy: "Everything that surrounds man, in the street, in the interior and exterior of public monuments, must be of a pure artistic form."38 On the other hand, he criticised Morris for his rejection of "the machine’s power and gracefulness".39 For Kropotkin himself, technology contributed to the progress of mankind.

[26] Signac’s landscapes often show factories, gas holders and ports as signs of human activity. This was also in line with Kropotkin, who, as just observed, had no objection to technology, industry and commerce as such, except for their profit-oriented character. On the contrary: international trade relations could connect people worldwide.40

Colour in the interior

[27] Signac held to his anarchist worldview throughout his life, although it is uncertain what role Kropotkin played in this: in his diaries, which he kept from 1894, Kropotkin is mentioned only three times in passing.41 But still in line with Kropotkin,Signac attached great interest to research in natural sciences. In anarchist ideology, a major role was assigned to physics and technology in the process of social change: they would make humanity less dependent and more autonomous. The Neo-Impressionist method, with systematic contrasts of dots of colour and with rationally conceived effects of lines, could be seen as a research-based scientific process and thus also had a political-ideological meaning.42

[28] It is well known from where Signac and other Neo-Impressionists derived their ideas about the effect of colour contrasts and about optical colour mixing by means of dots of different colours. Signac mentions his sources in his manifesto D’Eugène Delacroix au Néo-Impressionnisme (1899). He mainly gives Eugène Delacroix (1798–1863) the credit of being a forerunner, but he also mentions empirical, more or less scientific, studies such as Grammaire des arts du dessin (1867) by Charles Blanc, a book that preceded the aforementioned 1882 Grammaire des arts décoratifs by the same author, and Ogden N. Rood’s Modern Chromatics (1879, or Théorie scientifique des couleurs, 1881). The most important of these sources was De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs (The Principles of Harmony and Contrasts of Colour, and Their Application to the Arts) by Michel-Eugène Chevreul (1786–1889). This 1839 work had been reprinted not long before, in 1889.43

[29] De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs is the result of methodical research. As director of the Manufacture des Gobelins, Chevreul was confronted with the problem of rendering shadow tones in fabrics, especially in blue and purple areas; black and brown tones then seemed to turn grey.44 He started from the principle that the mutual influence of colours had to be taken into account. He systematically investigated what effect colours could have on each other, viewed them under different colours of light and through differently coloured glasses. He analysed the effect of combinations of bright and dark colours against white, black and grey backgrounds, and the effect of the contrasting 'afterimage' of a colour on the retina (Fig. 9).

9 Illustration (folding plate) in M. E. Chevreul, De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs et de l’assortiment des objets colorés, Paris 1969 (reprint of 2nd ed., Paris 1889)

On this basis, he developed a system of statements about combinations of colours: contrasting, harmoniously blending, or mixed. In his book he demonstrated this in the form of propositions, systematically classified in a series of consecutively numbered sections, divisions and chapitres. Chevreul’s experiments were primarily intended for the Manufacture des Gobelins, for which he formulated the principle: "The art of tapestry weaving is based on the principle of mixing colours and the principle of their mutually contrasting effect."45 Starting from this basic assumption, Chevreul formulated 'recipes' for how many threads of which colour the weaver had to combine to obtain specific shades. The Neo-Impressionists 'translated' as it were this optical blending into brushstrokes, as can be seen particularly in the juxtaposed violet and blue strokes in La Salle à manger (Fig. 1).46 Chevreul continued to research, publish and give lectures into old age – well into his hundredth year. At 98 he gave acourse that was probably attended by Signac, who gratefully referred to it as "our introduction to the science of colour".47

[30] Given their aim to promote French industry and their authorship of a book on the tapestry industry, it is not surprising that Henry Havard and Marius Vachon in their interior design books also paid extensive attention to Chevreul’s findings.48 Chevreul had achieved fame with his book, not least because the Manufacture des Gobelins flourished under his leadership. In his prescriptions on the use of colour, Havard borrowed heavily from Chevreul. However, he also used other chapters of the book than those employed by the Neo-Impressionists.

[31] It is less well known (although it is indicated in the book’s long subtitle) that in De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs Chevreul did not restrict himself to colour analysis for the benefit of tapestry weaving; he also applied his laws of contrast to other sectors of the visual and decorative arts and crafts, and to interior decoration. For instance: in his statements on floor coverings, he pointed out that patterns and colours of a rug should be in harmony with the rest of the room, thereby showing a preference for teintes plates, areas of colour without chiaroscuro. Abstract motifs lent themselves best to flat tones. A clear border, that could also frame the arrangement of the furniture, had to surround the whole rug. A carpet against a brown background, with floral patterns and a garland in the centre, all in flat tones, carefully combined in accordance with the laws of colour contrast, gave the best result.49 As we have seen, Havard later adopted these ideas.

[32] Havard was also inspired by Chevreul’s observations about the effects of the colours of walls in a room in relation to each other, and about the role of effects of light. As such effects were even more complicated when patterned fabrics or wallpapers were used, Chevreul had studied the optical effects of these, including wallpaper borders, wainscoting, bronze and gilded ornamental frames.50 Following Chevreul’s statements, Havard also extensively defined the interplay of walls, colours and light in L’Art dans la maison and in La Décoration. Colours can make the dimensions of a room appear different, is stated in proposition XXVIII of L’Art dans la maison, and proposition XXIX refers to colours and lines as "expressions of a language". Colours could mutually confirm or contradict each other. Combined in the right way they resulted in deliberate harmonies, but joined together without artistic taste their effect was loud and incoherent.51 Choosing colours should therefore never be done à l’improviste; all kinds of lighting and other conditions of the situation had to be carefully taken into account.52

Lines and moods

[33] However, both Havard and Signac added an element of subjectivity in their theories that could not be found in Chevreul’s book. As for Havard, in L’Art dans la maison, proposition IX reads: "Used and combined with art, shapes as well as colours can express ideas, speak a language and conform to a special disposition of our mind". In La Décoration, thesis XXIII states that every colour, and within it every nuance in itself, has an emotional charge (signification sentimentale) that corresponds to a specific state of mind.53 Thus, colours could "speak a language", and that language needed a grammar with rules. Havard’s views parallel the ideas of the avant-garde of his time – Symbolists as well as Neo-Impressionists – about sign systems of sounds, colours and shapes.54

[34] Havard argues that shapes (contours) and lines, like the language of words, can express states of mind: the straight line conveys strength and resistance, the curved line unity and suppleness, the broken line (ligne brisée) movement and life. Horizontal lines connote peace, tranquillity and stability; vertical ones unrest, but also the rapture of poetry.55 Havard pays particular attention to broken lines. These lines mostly express movement and vitality, but with them also the emotions that can spring from them: cheerfulness or sadness. Here, repetition, symmetry or framing are the best solutions to prevent an effect of restlessness.56 He gives as examples the arrangements of paintings on the wall and of ornamental objects on a mantelpiece: these should not be arranged or hung in a regular arithmetic sequence, but rather according to a kind of ligne brisée, alternating between small and large, and clearly demarcated at both ends of the set (Figs. 10, 11).

10 Illustration showing a correct ligne brisée arrangement of objects, reproduced from Henry Havard, La Décoration, Paris 1892, 67

11 Illustration showing a wrong ("arithmetic") and a correct way to arrange pictures according to the ligne brisée, reproduced from Henry Havard, La Décoration, Paris 1892, 68

In this respect Havard refers to "a much sought-after and curious, yet rare and little known work": Essai sur les signes inconditionnels dans l'art (Essay on Unconditional Signs in Art, 1827) by David Humbert de Superville (1770–1849). From this book, Havard derived the idea that, analogous to certain expressive features of the human face, colours and (directions of) lines could evoke feelings and moods.57 Regarding the expressive effects of diagonal lines and angles, the sharper the angle, the more it approaches the effect of vertical lines; and the more obtuse, the more the effect tends to that of horizontal lines, that is to a sense of rest. Curved lines were less expressive and more ambiguous in meaning.58 Horizontally they have a pleasant effect, but when applied vertically they soon give the impression of instability. A solid base or robust pedestal could compensate for this. This idea is particularly apparent in Havard’s book on ceramics, which deals with pedestals, clear divisions and good proportions of stoneware.59 The basic forms should not be hidden behind an overgrowth of ornaments in relief or bronze fittings, or disturbed by imitations of oil paintings.60

[35] Signac’s ideas on the effect of colours and lines partly go back to the same sources. In D’Eugène Delacroix au Néo-Impressionnisme, he mentions (again) Delacroix and also Humbert de Superville, but in particular refers to the physicist Hermann von Helmholtz (1821–1894).61 Based on experiments about the functioning of the eye, Helmholtz explained in his Optique physiologique (1867), the French translation of his standard work Handbuch der physiologischen Optik (1867), that the perception of a colour depends on the sensory nerves, stimulated by vibrations of light of different wavelengths. However, the reception of vibrations by the eye does not mean real 'seeing': that only starts when our consciousness understands that sensation.62

[36] Signac combined such theories to develop a 'scientific' foundation for his art. In D’Eugène Delacroix au Néo-Impressionnisme he clearly explains the Neo-Impressionist use of colours and lines in their interrelationship: horizontal lines express calm, ascending lines activity and cheerfulness, descending ones sadness. The horizontal direction corresponds to a balance of warm and cold, pale and intense colours, while warm tones go well with ascending, and cold tones with descending lines. Following this principle, one could systematically express moods through a combination of lines and colours.63

[37] Scholars in the 20th century further identified another source that the Neo-Impressionists very likely drew upon: the theory of mathematician, physicist, psychologist and aesthetician Charles Henry (1859–1936), who with his "Psychophysics" claimed to embed the expressive value of colours, lines and angles in a mathematical system.64 Henry built on the findings of Chevreul and Humbert de Superville, but he had the ambition to give them a truly scientific, that is, mathematical foundation. Like Helmholtz, Henry assumed that colours and lines produced an effect on the retina, but his point of departure was the observer, not the observed object. The stimuli generated by colours and lines on the observer’s retina in turn caused effects in the nervous and circulatory systems. He thought that if the stimuli on the retina could be shown to obey a law, the same should also apply to the effects they caused in the nervous system. Consequently, a spectator’s reaction could be predictable, even if it occurred through unconscious processes.65 In April 1889, Henry demonstrated his system in a lecture, possibly attended by Signac.66 He then elaborated his findings in several publications, including a series of illustrated articles in the 1889 volume of La Revue indépendante, and in 1894 in the avant-garde magazine La Revue blanche. The drawings accompanying these articles were most likely made by Signac.67

12 [Paul Signac], Scheme of directions of lines related to the circular shape, illustrating Charles Henry, "L’Esthétique des formes. II. Le Contraste", in: La Revue blanche 7 (1894), no. 36, 308-322: 312 (photograph: Allard Pierson, University of Amsterdam)

[38] According to Henry, the perfect motion was the circular motion, a continuous, fluid motion. Deviations from that ideal cycle were unconsciously valued qualitatively and converted into emotions. By geometrically determining the angle of the direction of movement related to the radius of the circle, the positive or negative effects could be expressed in formulas (Fig. 12).68 Henry’s series in La Revue blanche shows similar mathematical calculations, as for instance those of the aesthetic impact of broken lines.69 He also explained how the rhythmic value of flowing lines should be calculated, using mathematical constructions. For instance, he compared the aesthetic effect of the shapes of three types of Greek vases, and claimed that the contour of the hilt of a sword had a less aesthetic effect than that of a Persian vase, since the latter was more clear and rich in contrast (Figs. 13, 14).70

13-14 [Paul Signac], Aesthetic effects of the contours of a sword and of a Persian vase, illustrating Charles Henry, "L’Esthétique des formes. IV. Les Convenances d’ordre supérieur", in: La Revue blanche 8 (1895, premier semestre), 116-120: 117, 118 (photograph: Allard Pierson, University of Amsterdam)

[39] In a letter to Vincent van Gogh, Signac expressed great enthusiasm for Henry’s experiments. He wrote that he was designing illustrations for Henry’s "book on the aesthetics of shapes", which demonstrated how a shape’s harmony could be determined mathematically. He referred to Henry’s articles in La Revue indépendante and predicted: "This will have a significant social impact, especially from the point of view of industrial art. We will teach the art of seeing correctly and beautifully to apprentice workmen etc., whose aesthetic education until now has been provided only through empirical formulas and dishonest or foolish advice."71

[40] Signac’s drawings look very simple; Henry’s mathematical calculations, on the other hand, are very complex. The question is to what extent Neo-Impressionist adherents of these theories were willing or able to calculate every form mathematically in their paintings. But they did adopt the basic principle: ascending lines (set against the motion of the circle), signified forward motion, which, according to Henry, caused pleasure; descending lines tended more toward rest or passivity, which would then evoke negative sensations.72 Even before Henry’s findings were published, Signac employed them in both of his interior paintings (Figs. 1, 2). In La Salle à manger, the line composition is static, with many vertical lines, formed by the figures and the curtains and a diagonal that bends downwards in a curved line encircling the dining table. The colour composition is mainly made up of contrasts of white in the tablecloth speckled with a multitude of light blue dots, and of violet, dark red and darker blue in the other sections. The downward direction, combined with 'cool' colours of blue and violet, refers to a sad state of mind. In Un Dimanche, the downward trend is even stronger; a diagonal downward line dominates the work: the light falling from the upper left to the lower right, the man’s bent-over posture, and the position of his chair all reinforce this movement. The many violet touches correspond to this. One might almost say that the zigzag lines of the parquet mock the interior arrangement, as cosy and intimate as it was intended to be. In both works, the compositions of the lines and colours are not intended to evoke positive feelings. Signac has systematically calculated that effect.

Science as a guiding force

[41] Artistically as well as ideologically, there was a marked contrast between the bourgeois, who furnished his house in a consumerist way with luxury items – whether 'respectable' or not – and the anarchist-minded artist Signac, who portrayed and critiqued such interiors according to the principles of Neo-Impressionist painting. However, despite artistic and ideological contradictions, the compositional principles of Paul Signac as well as those of Henry Havard and Marius Vachon appear to be largely based on the same sources. Both are rooted in the same research tradition. Their statements on the effects of colour and line are based on the scientific premise that vision depends on the perception of reflected rays, and that this perception is influenced by all kinds of factors – and can even be manipulated. Moreover, the way in which Havard and Vachon developed this assumption had a scientific (or what was considered scientific) character. Their presentation of representative interior furnishingsin the form of 'propositions', 'statements', 'rules', or a 'grammar' system can be seen as a means of emphasising this scientific character. Today’s reader might find their prescriptions patronising or authoritarian, but to the authors it was an expression of their unwavering belief in the progressive power of science. Their advice in the field of interior design was intended to make home furnishing a rational process. Havard and Vachon, both republicans and nationalists, probably viewed their 'propositions' as a corrective to 'conspicuous consumption', but certainly not as contributions to social upheaval. Yet they shared their trust in science with the anarchist Signac. Science provided both parties with the tools to construct or analyse an interior in a rational way. One could say that Signac, ideologically and artistically, turned the other party’s own methods against them. At this point, in Signac’s interior paintings, extremes meet.

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Paul Taylor, The Warburg Institute, London

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The text of this article is provided under the terms of the Creative Commons License CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0.

1 A third interior painting by Signac, Les Modistes (1885, Zurich, Fondation E. G. Bührle), showing two milliners at work, is beyond the scope of this article.

2 John G. Hutton, Neo-Impressionism and the Search for Solid Ground. Art, Science and Anarchism in Fin-de-Siècle France, Baton Rouge/London 1994; Robyn Roslak, "Artisans, Consumers and Corporeality in Signac’s Parisian Interiors", in: Art History 25 (2006), 860-886.

3 Henry Havard, L’Art dans la maison. Grammaire de l’ameublement, Paris 1884. See Debora L. Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France. Politics, Psychology and Style, Berkeley/Los Angeles/London 1989, 141.

4 Roslak (2006), 875-876, n. 71, referring to Havard (1884), 366: "La table est dans la vie, le trait-d’union par excellence. Elle est en quelque sorte le refuge, le port béni, où l’on vient, dans l’abandon d’une conversation aimable, se délasser des fatigues du dehors. Elle est l’autel, où journellement on sacrifie aux joies pures de la famille et de l’amitié. Elle constitue, enfin, le lien le plus sûr pour retenir autour d’un même foyer, ceux que leurs intérêts ou leurs convenances tendraient à entraîner au dehors".

5 Havard (1884), 357-362. See also note 28.

6 Whitney Walton, France at the Crystal Palace. Bourgeois Taste and Artisan Manufacture in the Nineteenth Century, Berkeley/Los Angeles/Oxford 1992, 49-113; Rosalind H. Williams, Dream Worlds. Mass Consumption in Late Nineteenth-Century France, Berkeley/Los Angeles/London 1982, 3-12.

7 Heinz-Gerhard Haupt, "The petite bourgeoisie in France, 1850–1914: In Search of the juste milieu?", in: Geoffrey Crossick and Heinz-Gerhard Haupt, Shopkeepers and Master Artisans in Nineteenth-Century Europe, London/New York 1984, 95-154.

8 Marius Vachon, Nos industries d’art en péril. Un musée municipal d’études d’Art industriel, Paris n.d. [1882]. See Lieske Tibbe, "Admiration and Fear. The Reports of Marius Vachon on Museums of Industrial Arts in Europe", in: Andrea Meyer and Bénédicte Savoy, eds., The Museum is Open. Towards a Transnational History of Museums, 1750–1940, Berlin 2014, 131-145. See also Silverman (1989), 52-62.

9 "[…] la formule, si vivement souhaité, d'un mobilier démocratique, gracieux de formes, commode, facile à entretenir, gai d’aspect, et avec cela peu coûteux, – cette dernière condition devenant chaque jour plus essentielle", in: Henry Havard, L’Ébénisterie (Les Arts de l’ameublement), Paris 1897, 127.

10 Lisa Tiersten, Marianne in the Market. Envisioning Consumer Society in Fin-de-Siècle France, Berkeley/Los Angeles/London 2001, 5-9. Tiersten (2001), 9, and Roslak (2006), 880, n. 87, refer to Thorstein Veblen, The Theory of the Leisure Class. An Economic Study of Institutions, New York 1961 [1st ed. 1899], who introduced the concept of 'conspicuous consumption' or 'conspicuous waste'. According to Veblen (1961, 88 and 115) the principle of 'conspicuous waste' had penetrated people’s thinking so deeply that it had become a norm: "'Conspicuous waste' became 'honorific waste'". See also Walton (1992), 23-26.

11 Charles Blanc, Grammaire des arts décoratifs (faisant suite à la Grammaire des arts du dessin). Décoration intérieure de la maison, Paris 1882, 1-2: "Quelque modeste que soit une habitation, il suffit d’y mettre l’ordre et d’y entretenir la propreté, pour qu’elle soit supportable et devienne même, par la force d’habitude, intéressante. L’homme s’initiant par les vertus privées aux vertus publiques, il est essentiel qu’il ne se dégoûte pas de sa maison, parce que c’est là que l’appellent les devoirs de famille et c’est là qu’il règle ses pensées lorsqu’il vit seul. […] Mais la maison n’est seulement habitée: elle est visitée, et certaines pièces en sont même destinées spécialement aux amis et aux étrangers. Celles-là, du moins, doivent témoigner de l’application qu’on a mise à les décorer de son mieux et en raison de sa fortune. L’absence de tout ornement y serait une impolitesse."

12 Havard (1884), 241-242: "Cette expérience […] nous pouvons la remplacer, dans une certaine mesure, par la constatation d’une suite de principes, par la connaissance d’un ensemble de règles, dictés par le bon sens, contrôlés par le bon goût, et dont l’observation nous permettra de ne point commettre de trop lourdes fautes!"

13 Havard (1884), 234-318.

14 Henry Havard, Les Arts de l’ameublement, 11 vols., Paris 1891–1897.

15 Henry Havard, La Menuiserie (Les Arts de l’ameublement), Paris 1891, VI-VII: "C’est pour remédier à ce manque de connaissances, si fâcheux à tous égards, que nous avons entrepris de publier cette petite bibliothèque des Arts de l’ameublement".

16 Henry Havard and Marius Vachon, Les manufactures nationales. Les Gobelins, La Savonnerie, Sèvres, Beauvais, Paris 1889; Marius Vachon, Les Arts et les industries du papier en France, 1871–1894, Paris 1894.

17 Havard (1884), 380: "La table ovale […] est élastique et peut […] s’augmenter ou se rétrécir à volonté. En outre, elle évite les 'angles morts', toujours disgracieux, et génants à cause des pieds de la table […]. Chaque convive possède, grâce à elle, des voisins immédiats et des vis-à-vis directs; enfin elle fait moins sensible l’inégalité des places, elle adoucit la progression hiérarchique. […] Il est encore à remarquer, que l’introduction chez nous de la table circulaire coïncide avec l’avènement de ces mœurs sociables, aimables, de cette cordialité, que le XVIIe siècle a généralisées en France […]."

18 Havard (1884), 373: "L’idéal d’un fin diner, c’est qu’on soit servi et desservi sans qu’on s’en aperçoive."

19 Havard (1884), 373: "Sous la table, un tapis moelleux, ou mieux encore une épaisse fourrure devra, en hiver, maintenir à une chaude température les pieds des convives. Mais nous ne tolérons point d’autres tapisseries dans la pièce. Pas de 'verdures de Flandre' aux murailles, pas de drap, pas de cretonne, pas de lampas, pas d’étoffes d’aucune sorte. Les tissus, semblables à de vraies éponges, s’imprègnent avec une facilité trop grande de toutes les émanations culinaires […] et finissent par se pénétrer de parfums écœurants et médiocrement hygiéniques."

20 Havard (1884), 374, 378-379.

21 Henry Havard, Kunst en kunstnijverheid op de Parijsche tentoonstelling van 1878. Historisch-kritisch overzicht, ’s Gravenhage 1880, 163.

22 For comparisons see Hutton (1994), 204-205; Roslak (2006), 875-876. See also Serge Lemoine et al., eds., Dans l’intimité des frères Caillebotte. Peintre et Photographe, exh. cat., Paris/Québec 2011, 102-103.

23 Marina Ferretti Bocquillon et al., eds., Signac 1863–1935, exh. cat., Paris/Amsterdam/New York 2001, 165-167.

24 Havard (1884), 357: "Lieu de constant séjour, il est de son devoir de se mettre à l’unisson de ceux qui passent, entre ses murailles, une bonne part de leur vie."

25 Havard (1884), 360: "un nid chaud et douillet".

26 The series of preliminary drawings reproduced in Ferretti Bocquillonet al. (2001), 195-197, shows that the cat was added only at the last, possibly not only as a compositional element but also as a critique of bourgeois petkeeping. See Kathleen Kete, The Beast in the Boudoir. Petkeeping in Nineteenth-Century Paris, Berkeley/Los Angeles/London 1994, especially 115-135.

27 Havard (1884), 358: "Sans toutefois présenter de fouillis, notre petit salon offrira donc un gracieux assemblage de jolis meubles d’époques différentes et de styles variés."

28 Havard (1884), 361-362: "La petite cheminée […] joue, dans l’économie générale de cette pièce, un rôle de tout premier ordre. […] Elle forme encore un centre naturel de sociabilité, autour duquel tout gravite."

29 Havard (1884), 184, and Henry Havard, La Tapisserie, Paris 1894 (Les Arts de l’ameublement), 61.

30 Hutton (1994), 205-207; Roslak (2006), 879; Thompson et al. (2011), 106-107. In some preliminary studies for Un Dimanche, the husband, just like Lucien Pissarro’s (and like Caillebotte’s), is represented reading a newspaper, see Ferretti Bocquillonet al. (2001), 124, 190-197. In addition, another interesting possible precursor to Un Dimanche is put forward by Richard Thompson in: "Exhibition Review: Paris, Amsterdam and New York – Signac", in: The Burlington Magazine 143 (2001), no. 1180, 442-445: Le Nuage (The Cloud, 1885, oil on canvas), by Roger-Joseph Jourdain (1845–1918) in the Musée de Louviers. This suggestively titled painting also shows a bourgeois petit salon and a similar diagonal arrangement of people and furniture, but here the man is looking out of the window and the woman is stretched out on a chair.

31 Pierre Kropotkine, Paroles d’un révolté, ed. by Élisée Reclus, Paris 1885, 66: "Vous, poètes, peintres, sculpteurs, si vous avez compris votre vraie mission, et les intérêts de l’art lui-même, venez donc mettre votre plume, votre pinceau, votre burin, au service de la révolution. Racontez-nous dans votre style imagé ou dans vos tableaux saissisants les luttes titanesques des peuples contre leurs oppresseurs; enflammez les jeunes cœurs de ce beau souffle révolutionnaire qui inspirait nos ancêtres." English version: https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/petr-kropotkin-words-of-a-rebel-1#toc8.

32 Pierre Kropotkine, La Conquête du pain, ed. by Élisée Reclus, 2nd ed. Paris 1892, 148-149: "Il faut […] se plonger dans l’existence populaire pour oser la retracer." English version: https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/petr-kropotkin-the-conquest-of-bread#toc34.

33 For Luce see Marina Ferretti Bocquillon, ed.,Maximilien Luce, Neo-Impressionist. Retrospective, exh. cat. Giverny 2010. An exception within Signac’s œuvre is Les Modistes (see note 7), see Roslak (2006), 863-873, and Roslak (2016), 37-62. Roslak contrasts Signac’s critical view of the bourgeois interior with his sympathy for the group of small self-employed workers in craft professions, driven into a corner by capitalism.

34 Hutton (1994), 115-148; Ferretti Bocquillon et al. (2001), 216; Anne Dymond, "A Politicized Pastoral: Signac and the Cultural Geography of Mediterranean France", in: The Art Bulletin 85 (June 2003), 353-369; Tania Woloshyn, "Colonizing the Côte d’Azur: Neo-Impressionism, Anarcho-Communism and the Tropical Terre Libre of the Maures, c. 1892–1908", in: RIHA Journal, article no. 0045 (2012), DOI: https://doi.org/10.11588/riha.2012.1.69912 (accessed Dec. 2023); Robyn Roslak, Neo-Impressionism and Anarchism in Fin-de-Siècle France. Painting, Politics and Landscape, London/New York 2016, 141-162.

35 Kropotkine (1885), 66: "Montrez au peuple ce que la vie actuelle a de laid, et faites-nous toucher du doigt les causes de cette laideur, dites-nous ce qu’une vie rationelle aurait été, si elle ne se heurtait à chaque pas contre les inepties et les ignominies de l’ordre social actuel."

36 Roslak (2006), 860-861, interprets Signac’s interior paintings as more or less a response to this statement by Kropotkin.

37 Kropotkine (1885), 59.

38 Kropotkine (1892), 149-150: "[T]out ce qui entoure l’homme, chez lui, dans la rue, à l’intérieur et à l’extérieur des monuments publics doit être d’un pure forme artistique." English version: https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/petr-kropotkin-the-conquest-of-bread#toc34. See also Kropotkine (1885), 212.

39 Pyotr Kropotkin, Memoirs of a Revolutionist, vol. 1, London 1899, 138-139.

40 Pyotr Kropotkin, "The Coming Anarchy", in: The Nineteenth Century. A Monthly Review 22 (1887), no. 126, 151-152, 155-158.

41 Paul Signac, Journal, 1894–1909, ed. by Charlotte Hellman, Paris 2021, 94, 568, 573. In an accompanying preface, Marina Ferretti Bocquillon reports (p. 17), that Signac did include in his diaries newspaper clippings on anarchist matters, but did not join any party.

42 William Innes Homer, Seurat and the Science of Painting, Cambridge, MA 1964, 235-249, and Robyn Roslak, "The Politics of Aesthetic Harmony. Neo-Impressionism, Science, and Anarchism", in: The Art Bulletin 83 (1991), no. 3, 381-390.

43 Paul Signac, D’Eugène Delacroix au Néo-Impressionnisme, Paris 1921, 33, 67, 89, 97, 99. See also summaries of those books in Homer (1964), 20-43. At pages 90-97 of D’Eugène Delacroix, Signac also quotes extensively from John Ruskin, The Elements of Drawing (1857). See M. E. Chevreul, De la loi du contraste simultané des couleurs et de l’assortiment des objets colorés considéré d’après cette loi dans ses rapports avec la peinture, les tapisseries des Gobelins, les tapisseries de Beauvais pour meubles, les tapis, la mosaïque, les vitraux colorés, l’impression des étoffes, l’imprimerie, l’enluminure, la décoration des édifices, l’habillement et l’horticulture, avec une introduction de H. Chevreul fils, Paris 1969 (reprint of 2nd ed., Paris 1889).

44 Chevreul (1889/1969), III, XIII.

45 Chevreul (1889/1969), 172: "L’art de la tapisserie repose sur le principe du mélange des couleurs et le principe de leur contraste simultané."

46 Chevreul (1889/1969), 176-181. See also Jeroen Stumpel, "The 'Grande Jatte', That Patient Tapestry", in: Simiolus 14 (1984), no. 3/4, 209-224: 210-217.

47 Chevreul (1889/1969), VII; Signac (1921), 45, mentions a visit by Seurat and himself to Chevreul at the Manufacture des Gobelins in 1884 as "notre initiation à la science de la couleur".

48 Havard and Vachon (1889), 300-363; Henry Havard, La Tapisserie (Les Arts de l’ameublement), Paris n.d. [1893?], 17. Here, however, the discovery of the principle of juxtaposition des couleurs is attributed to Chevreul’s predecessor Deyrolle. Blanc (1882), 83-85, mentions his own similar experiments in connection with his chapters on wallpaper and tapestries.

49 Chevreul (1889/1969), 202-212.

50 Chevreul (1889/1969), 125-127, 230-246.

51 Havard (1884), 279 (XXVIII), 281 (XXIX).

52 Havard (1884), 287.

53 Havard (1884), 251: "Employées et combinées avec art, les formes comme les couleurs peuvent exprimer des idées, parler un langage et se conformer à une disposition spéciale de notre esprit"; Havard (1892), 40: "Chaque couleur, et dans chaque couleur chaque nuance, considérée séparément, possède une signification sentimentale qui correspond à une disposition spéciale de notre esprit". See Silverman (1989), 75-106 for a possible link between mood-reflecting interior design and psychologie nouvelle in the fin de siècle.

54 Symbolist writers and Neo-Impressionist painters, often close friends, found common ground in their views on the evocative correspondence between colours, words and sounds as symbols, see Paul Smith, "The Neo-Impressionist Painter. Colour, Facture, and Fiction", in: Cornelia Homburg, ed., Neo-Impressionism and the Dream of Realities. Painting, Poetry, Music, New Haven/London 2014, 47-71. Smith refers, among others, to Gustave Kahn, "De l’esthétique du verre polychrome", in: La Vogue 1 (1886), no. 2, 54-65, a plea for colour in art and the living environment that culminates in an explanation of Charles Henry’s theory (https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100697006, accessed Sept. 2025).

55 Havard (1884), 251 (X) and 255 (XIV); Havard (1892),42 (XXV) and 47 (XXVII).

56 Havard (1892), 60 (XXXVIII).

57 Havard (1884), 256-260, and 257 (XV): "Humbert de Superville, dans un ouvrage très recherché, très curieux, mais rare et peu connu, démontre […] qu’il suffit d’un léger déplacement des lignes fondamentales du visage humain, pour exprimer très clairement des sentiments fort divers, et même radicalement contradictoires." See also Homer (1964), 200-205.

58 Havard (1892), 49 (XXIX), 50 (XXX), 51 (XXXI): "Les lignes courbes, par la nature même de leur structure, sont loin de présenter un caractère aussi précis que les lignes droites; leur expression, en conséquence, est moins forte et moins personnelle."

59 Henry Havard, La Céramique (Fabrication) (Les Arts de l’ameublement), Paris 1894, 97-106.

60 Havard and Vachon (1889), 512: "… un blame vigoureux, qui visait […] la peinture de paysages sur des vases ronds et sur des assiettes, et le choix sans discernement des montures en métal." Ibid., 517: "Le cuivre et le bronze intervenaient dans la fabrication des vases et des coupes, en de telles proportions qu’on hésite de déterminer […] qui l’emporte, de l’industrie du métal ou de la céramique. Les peintres de leur côté alourdirent la matière première d’épaisses compositions, de massifs ornements d’or et d’argent."

61 Signac (1921), 67.

62 Homer (1964), 39, 215.

63 Signac (1921), 61.

64 Homer (1964), 183-217; José A. Argüelles, Charles Henry and the Formation of a Psychophysical Aesthetic, Chicago/London 1972, 78-82, 131-142.

65 Charles Andry-Bourgeois, L’Œuvre de Charles Henry et le problème de la survie, Paris 1931, 8-11.

66 On the lecture see: Anon., "Calendrier des Livres", in: La Revue indépendante 11 (April-June 1889), 172-174.

67 Signac is listed as illustrator on the frontispiece of: Charles Henry, Quelques aperҫus sur l’Esthétique des formes, Paris 1895 (overprint of the texts from La Revue blanche). See for his lithography Application du cercle chromatique de M. Ch. Henry (1888): Ferretti Bocquillon et al. (2001), 180, and Smith (2014), 60-61.

68 Andry-Bourgeois (1931), 17; Argüelles (1972), 91-95.

69 Charles Henry, "L’Esthétique des formes. III. Le Rythme et la mesure", in: La Revue blanche 7 (1894), no. 38, 311-325: 317.

70 Charles Henry, "L’Esthétique des formes. IV. Les Convenances d’ordre supérieur", in: La Revue blanche 8 (1895, premier semestre), 116-120: 117-118.

71 Letter Paul Signac to Vincent van Gogh, Cassis, 12 April 1889, in: Leo Jansen, Harm Luijten and Nienke Bakker eds., Vincent van Gogh – De brieven. De volledige, geïllustreerde en geannoteerde uitgave, Amsterdam 2009, Letter 757, https://vangoghletters.org/vg/letters/let757/letter.html (accessed Nov. 2023): "C’est un livre sur l’esthetique des formes […] Cela aura une grande portée sociale au point de vue surtout de l’art industriel. Nous apprenons à voir juste et beau aux ouvriers apprentis, etc. dont jusqu’ici on n’a fait l’éducation esthétique qu’au moyen de formules empiriques et de conseils malhonnetes ou niais."The articles Signac referred to in his letter to Van Gogh can be found in: La Revue indépendante 7 (April–June 1888), 73-90: "Rapport esthétique et sensation de forme"; 238-289: "Cercle chromatique et sensation de couleur", and 458-478: "Harmonies de couleurs".

72 Argüelles (1972), 138; Homer (1964), 198-200.