Key Takeaways
1. Art Arises from Danger and Singular Experience
After all, works of art are always the result of one’s having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, to where no one can go any further.
Art's genesis. Rilke posits that true art isn't born from comfort or ease, but from the crucible of danger and profound personal experience. The artist must venture to the very edge of human experience, pushing beyond conventional boundaries to create something truly unique. This journey into the unknown is what imbues the artwork with its power and authenticity.
Personal madness. The more singular and personal the experience, the more necessary and definitive the artistic utterance becomes. This singularity, almost a personal madness, finds justification in the work itself, revealing an inherent law and design that was previously invisible. The work of art becomes the artist's epitome, a testament to their unity and genuineness.
Van Gogh's example. Rilke uses Van Gogh as an example of an artist who needed to protect the singularity of his vision. Sharing his process prematurely would have been destructive. The artist must first create the work that justifies and vouches for their reality.
2. The Artist's Task: Staying Within the "Well Done"
In art, you can only stay within the “well done,” and by your staying there, it increases and surpasses you again and again.
Focus on craft. Rilke emphasizes the importance of focusing on the craft, the "well done," as the path to artistic growth. The artist must immerse themselves in their work, patiently honing their skills and allowing the work to surpass them. This humble, patient approach is what allows the artist to truly grow.
Personal solutions. The "ultimate intuitions and insights" only approach those who live in their work and remain there. Considering them from afar gains no power over them. It's not our business how someone manages to grow, if only he does grow, if only we're on the trail of the law of our own growth.
Rodin's example. Rilke initially admired Rodin for his humble, patient path through the real. Rodin did not "think about" his work but remained within it: within the attainable. This is what made him so exceptional.
3. Urban Life vs. Nature's Splendor
One lives so badly, because one always comes into the present unfinished, unable, distracted.
Distractions of urban life. Rilke contrasts the splendor of nature with the distractions and unfinished quality of urban life. He laments the inability to fully experience the present, always arriving "unfinished, unable, distracted." This is due to the cubicled summer where you're lodged as if in the smallest of those boxes that fit one into the other, twenty times.
Heather's beauty. The beauty of heather in a letter reminds Rilke of the splendor of nature. He is ashamed that he was not happy when he was permitted to walk about in a superabundance of these. The fragrance of autumn earth is glorious, bitter where it borders on taste, and more than honeysweet where you feel it is close to touching the first sounds.
Longing for nature. Rilke expresses a longing for oceans, parks, woods, and forest meadows. He feels trapped in the urban environment, unable to fully connect with the natural world. The vaporous mornings and evenings are already starting, where the sun is merely the place where the sun used to be.
4. The Artist's Devotion: Overcoming Obstacles
In all things, I am disposed to that patient waiting, that improvidence, in which the birds surpass us, according to Kierkegaard.
Patient waiting. Rilke emphasizes the importance of patient waiting and improvidence in the creative process. The daily work, blindly and willingly performed, in all patience and with the Obstacle qui excite l’ardeur as its motto. This is the only kind of providence that does not interfere with God’s wish to keep us in hand, night after night.
Van Gogh's example. Van Gogh could perhaps lose his composure, but behind it there was always his work, he could no longer lose that. He could paint an Intérieur d’hôpital, and on his most fearful days he painted the most fearful objects. How else could he have survived.
Overcoming distractions. Rilke acknowledges the difficulty of maintaining focus and devotion in the face of distractions. He dreams of buying a full shop window like that and sitting down behind it with a dog for twenty years. In the evening there would be light in the back room, the front would be dark, and we would be sitting in back together, the three of us, eating.
5. Seeing with the "Right Eyes": A Transformation
And then for a long time nothing, and suddenly one has the right eyes …
Transformation of perception. Rilke describes a transformation in his perception, a sudden acquisition of the "right eyes." This is not merely an external optical event, but a transformation of the person standing in front of the pictures and writing about them. The altered horizon of insight involves a reclamation of language, an extension of its former boundaries that is never lost again.
Cézanne's challenge. Rilke is challenged by Cézanne's work. He is on the way to becoming a worker, on a long road perhaps, and probably he has only reached the first milestone. But still, he can already understand the old man who walked somewhere far ahead, alone, followed only by children who threw stones.
Beyond artistic dogma. The change he feels, the newness and difference in his manner of seeing, does not only apply to the perception of paintings. The poet did not take the teaching he had received as an artistic dogma. What had happened, and could happen again to anyone, was the same shock of recognition he had felt before the archaic torso of Apollo: “You must change your life.”
6. Cézanne's Balance: Nature and Image
It’s as if they were placed on a scale: here the thing, there the color; never more, never less than is needed for perfect balance.
Equivalence of object and color. Rilke recognizes the correspondence of object and color in Cézanne's painting. The picture's answer to the mobile "motif" is one of the essential traits of Cézanne's painting. The color is totally expended in its realization; there's no residue.
Good conscience. Cézanne sat there in front of it like a dog, just looking, without any nervousness, without any ulterior motive. He only made what he knew, nothing else. He must have had a good conscience, he was happy, way inside somewhere.
Beyond love. It was necessary to go beyond love, too; it's natural, after all, to love each of these things as one makes it: but if one shows this, one makes it less well; one judges it instead of saying it. One ceases to be impartial; and the best—love—stays outside the work, does not enter it, is left aside, untranslated.
7. The Poet's Role: Making Language Habitable
Here we are offered a glimpse of the poet’s ultimate responsibility.
Reclaiming language. Rilke's letters are a venturing into hitherto unexplored rooms, making language, "the house of being," a more habitable place. At the onset of an age that is preparing to proclaim its articles of faith in logograms and acronyms, these small and, one is tempted to say, humble steps taken in response to Cézanne’s pictures are nothing other than a venturing into hitherto unexplored rooms.
Precision in language. Malte Laurids Brigge's remark about the poet who hates the approximate was never more pertinent than here. Rilke's language conquers new realms—not in play, not as an experiment, but in a tenacious struggle for the utmost precision.
Color blue. Rilke produces a series of variations of the color blue, formulations whose expressive power exceeds everything that has ever been said about this color. An October morning in Paris presents him with a “completely supportless blue.”
8. Cézanne's Impact: A Turning Point in Life
It is the turning point in these paintings which I recognized, because I had just reached it in my own work or had at least come close to it somehow, probably after having long been ready for this one thing which so much depends on.
Turning point. Rilke recognizes a turning point in Cézanne's paintings, a process that demands one's participation, not just one's understanding. The poet was well aware that he was not only observing a turning point in Western painting, that is, an event that belongs in the annals of art history.
Enmity between life and work. The ancient "enmity between life and the great work" was endured by the artist with such exemplary devotion. Cézanne evidently knew what the issue was when, during the last thirty years of his life, he removed himself from everything that could "hook him."
Personal conflict. Cézanne's example revealed to Rilke his own existential conflict. He began to realize that his life must utterly belong to his work, and that he must never again be "delighted and awed"—as it says in his "Testament"—except by his work.
9. The Interplay of Colors: A World Within
Their mutual intercourse: this is the whole of painting.
Colors in communication. Rilke emphasizes that painting is something that takes place among the colors, and how one has to leave them completely alone, so that they can come to terms among themselves. Whoever meddles, whoever arranges, whoever injects his human deliberation, his wit, his advocacy, his intellectual agility in any way, is already disturbing and clouding their activity.
Glandular activity. Intensifications and dilutions take place in the core of every color, helping it to survive contact with others. In addition to this glandular activity within the intensity of colors, reflections play the greatest role.
Equilibrium. In this hither and back of mutual and manifold influence, the interior of the picture vibrates, rises and falls back into itself, and does not have a single unmoving part. Just this for today. You see how difficult it becomes when one tries to get very close to the facts.
10. The Artist's Humility: Objectivity and Truth
It is this limitless objectivity, refusing any kind of meddling in an alien unity, that strikes people as so offensive and comical in Cézanne’s portraits.
Limitless objectivity. Rilke admires Cézanne's limitless objectivity, his refusal to meddle in an alien unity. This is what strikes people as so offensive and comical in Cézanne's portraits. They accept, without realizing it, that he represented apples, onions, and oranges purely by means of color.
Humble et colossal. Rilke applies the epithet "humble et colossal" to Cézanne, recognizing his humility and greatness. He reproduced himself with so much humble objectivity, with the unquestioning, matter-of-fact interest of a dog who sees himself in a mirror and thinks: there’s another dog.
Plainspoken truth. Rilke couldn't help thinking that without this poem, the whole trend toward plainspoken truth which we now seem to recognize in Cézanne could not have started; first it had to be there in all its inexorability. First, artistic perception had to surpass itself to the point of realizing that even something horrible, something that seems no more than disgusting, is, and is valid, along with everything else that is.
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Review Summary
Letters on Cézanne is highly regarded by many readers for Rilke's poetic descriptions of Cézanne's paintings and artistic process. Readers appreciate Rilke's insights into art, color, and perception, finding the letters both inspiring and thought-provoking. Some note the dense, challenging prose requires careful reading. The epistolary format appeals to some but not others. Overall, reviewers value the book for its unique perspective on Cézanne's work and Rilke's own artistic development, though a few found it difficult to engage with.