In the third and fourth rooms of the exhibit are many of the paintings from Gauguin's first stay in Tahiti (1891-1893):
Ia Orana Maria (Hail Mary, 1891, Metropolitan Museum of Art)
Vahine note tiare (Woman with flower, 1891, Ny Carlsberg-Glypotek, Copenhagen)
Femmes de Tahiti (Sur la plage, 1891, Musée d'Orsay)
Le Repas (Les bananes, 1891, Musée d'Orsay)
Arearea (Joyeusetés I, 1892, Musée d'Orsay)
Merahi metua no Tehamana (Ancestors of Tehamana, 1893, Art Institute of Chicago)
Hina te fatou (Moon and Earth, 1893, Museum of Modern Art)
Parahi te marae (There is the Temple, 1892, Philadelphia Museum of Art)
Matamua (Autrefois, 1892, Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid)
Parau na te varua ino (Words of the Devil, 1892, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)
Va hine note vi (Woman with Mango, 1892, Baltimore Museum of Art)
Aha oe feii? (What? You're Jealous?, 1892, Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts, Moscow)
Matamoe (Landscape with Peacocks, 1892, Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts, Moscow)
Pastorales tahitiennes (1893, State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg)
Manaò tupapaú (Spirit of the Dead Watching, 1892, Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo)
The effect of seeing so many of the Tahiti paintings and carvings, which have not been shown together in a long time, along with the Tahitian artifacts is remarkable. The show was put together to honor the 100th anniversary of Gauguin's death, and we are told that it took four years to put together, to receive permission to bring works of art from many continents into one show. Is Gauguin worth all of this? I don't think you can stand in front of even just one of the paintings in these rooms for a short time without feeling that it is. The Gauguin Tahiti paintings represents incarnate one of the last moments of innocent European exoticisme; he truly believed that a culture that was so different from his own had to be perfectly pure and real, even though he found in reality a culture that had already been nearly destroyed by visitors like himself. The colors, when you see the paintings in person, are often startling but ultimately beautiful and pleasing to the eye. How, working with oil paint, did he achieve a texture that is like pastel or crayon at times? I think that the evocation and intermingling of so many different myths (Christian, Oceanic, Buddhist, Egyptian) gives Gauguin's work a universal quality, even if it is Eurocentric. What does the flying lizard with red wings signify in Te nave nave fenua (Delicious Land, 1892, Ohara Museum of Art, image shown at left)? What about the hand gestures of Gauguin's Tahitian figures, or the flute-playing girls who seem to fill several of the paintings with the sounds of Tahitian music? Gauguin makes me think about these things.
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