Impression, Sunrise

The work by the French painter Claude Monet (1840—1926), Impression, Sunrise, has gone down in history as the first Impressionist painting, from which the name of this art movement is derived. It was first exhibited at the so-called First Impressionist Exhibition in Paris (1874) but is now one of the gems of the Marmottan Monet Museum’s collection. The view of the port of Le Havre, Monet’s hometown, shrouded in blue-grey mist, in which the orange sun disc and two dark-grey boats form a triangle of focal points within the laconic composition, has been honoured with a dedicated exhibition at the Marmottan Monet Museum and a collection of essays and articles titled Monet’s Impression, Sunrise*: The Biography of a Painting*¹Marianne Mathieu and Dominique Lobstein, eds., Monet’s Impression, Sunrise: The Biography of a Painting, exh. cat., Paris 2014. ↩. It traces in detail the work’s creation and subsequent history, whilst also debunking several myths and misconceptions. The exhibition and book are dedicated to the 140th anniversary of the painting’s first exhibition, whilst the 150th anniversary of the Impressionist exhibition in 2024 was marked by an exhibition at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris and the National Gallery of Art in Washington, as well as the catalogue Paris 1874: The Impressionist Moment²Sylvie Patry, Anne Robbins, Kimberly A. Jones and Mary Morton, eds., Paris 1874: The Impressionist Moment, exh. cat., New Haven and London 2024. ↩, where anyone interested can explore even broader contexts surrounding Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise, first and foremost the role of the official Salon exhibition rooted in the academic tradition.

Impulses, Form and Technique

Impression, Sunrise is a work that aptly characterises Claude Monet’s individual style within the broader context of Impressionism. Monet focused primarily on the pure landscape and the mood it conveyed, reaching a state of extreme dematerialisation and the dissolution of objects into a substance of colour and light verging on abstraction in his series of wheat stacks, Rouen Cathedrals and water lilies towards the end of his life. However, the painter’s first steps in art were linked to caricatures, and he also produced a considerable number of figural genre scenes, particularly in the 1860s, when Monet submitted works to the Salon exhibition with varying degrees of success. At this time, Monet’s painting still retained an attachment to a relatively realist tradition based on local colours and the so-called Barbizon School. It was only gradually that brighter colours and atmospheric effects began to emerge, a shift initiated by Monet’s acquaintance with the self-taught seascape painter Eugène Boudin (1824—1898) in the late 1850s. In 1862, Monet met the Dutch painter Johan Barthold Jongkind (1819—1891), who is regarded as a precursor of Impressionism, just like Boudin, and at the same time as a continuator of Dutch 17th-century Golden Age painting. In several works by Boudin and Jongkind, one can discern similar landscape motifs featuring the sun or moon, their reflections on the water, or a sky suffused with light. The creation of Monet’s famous painting may also have been influenced by the visionary works of the English painters John Constable (1776—1837) and, in particular, Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775—1851)³See, for example, Joseph Mallord William Turner, Norham Castle, Sunrise, c. 1845, London, Tate Britain, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._M._W._Turner#/media/File:Joseph_Mallord_William_Turner_-_Norham_Castle,_Sunrise_-_WGA23182.jpg (accessed 14 April 2026). ↩ , as well as the real London fog with its hazy, diffused light. In 1870, when the Franco-Prussian War began, Monet travelled to London to avoid conscription into the army and also became acquainted with the collections of the museums there. The National Gallery in London exhibits an earlier example of European painting that can be considered a precursor to Monet’s work — the painting by the French artist Claude Lorrain (c. 1600—1682) The Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba (1648)⁴https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Embarkation_of_the_Queen_of_Sheba#/media/File:Claude_Lorrain_008.jpg (accessed 14 April 2026). ↩, which Turner also reinterpreted in several compositionally similar paintings featuring side scenes, as well as a central disc of the rising or setting sun above the water.⁵Joseph Mallord William Turner, Dido Building Carthage or The Rise of the Carthaginian Empire, 1815, London, National Gallery, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dido_building_Carthage#/media/File:Turner_Dido_Building_Carthage.jpg; The Decline of the Carthaginian Empire, 1817, London, Tate Britain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Joseph_Mallord_William_Turner_-_The_Decline_of_the_Carthaginian_Empire_-_WGA23169.jpg (accessed 14 April 2026). ↩ Also, the American painter James McNeill Whistler’s (1834—1903) misty Nocturnes featuring the waters of the Thames in the foreground and devoid of any of the mythological themes explored by Lorrain or Turner can be regarded as counterparts to Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise.⁶See, for example, James McNeill Whistler, Nocturne in Blue and Silver: Chelsea, 1871, London, Tate Britain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Whistler_-_Nocturne._Blue_and_Silver_-_Chelsea_(1871).jpg (accessed 14 April 2026). ↩ However, it is unclear whether one can speak of influences here, as Whistler’s first Nocturnes were exhibited after Monet had already left London.⁷Anne-Marie Bergeret-Gourbin and Laurent Manœuvre, “Boudin, Jongkind, Courbet, Turner and Monet: Contributions to the Genesis of Impressionism”, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 44. ↩ In 1871, following the signing of the Franco-Prussian peace treaty, Monet returned to his homeland and settled in Argenteuil, from where Le Havre was easily accessible by train.

In 1897, Monet recalled the creation of the painting Impression, Sunrise: “I had something I painted from my window in Le Havre: the sun in the mist and in the foreground some masts sticking up. They wanted to know its title for the catalogue [because] it couldn’t really pass for a view of Le Havre. I replied “Use Impression.’”⁸Maurice Guillemot, “Claude Monet”, La Revue Illustrée, 15 March 1898, quoted in: Géraldine Lefebvre, “Impression, Sunrise in the Port of Le Havre”, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 59. ↩ Did Monet wish, with this, to celebrate France’s industrial development, the expansion of the port and “the dawning of a new day for Le Havre and the nation”⁹Paul Hayes Tucker, Claude Monet: Life and Art, New Haven & London 1995, 75. ↩? Such a message might have been relevant in the wake of the destructive events of the Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune, which the writer Victor Hugo (1802—1885) dubbed “the terrible year” (L’Année terrible). No specific messages can be derived from Monet’s statements, although the presence of attributes of modern life — trains, stations, factories and other contemporary motifs — in his paintings is evident, thus emphasising the contrast with the Barbizon School’s depictions of idyllically untouched nature. Painted in a loose, sketch-like manner (alla prima or “wet-on-wet”) with spontaneous, expressive brushstrokes, the landscape is dominated by water, which occupies about two-thirds of the composition, with ships, cranes and other port infrastructure motifs, in which the verticals of sailing ship masts and steamship funnels, as well as wisps of smoke, are discernible. The darkest element of the work is the rowing boat in the centre of the foreground, whilst the orange sun disc and its reflection in the water are painted with the thickest brushwork. Contrary to first impressions, the sun is not the brightest element of the work, and, in the black-and-white version of the painting, it becomes almost invisible.¹⁰https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Claude_Monet,_Impression,_soleil_levant,_1872_BW.jpg (accessed 11 April 2026). ↩

From the same or a very similar vantage point, Monet painted several other works; the closest parallel is undoubtedly Sunrise (1872, Getty Museum, Los Angeles)¹¹https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Sunrise_by_Claude_Monet,_1873,_Getty_Center.JPG (accessed 11 April 2026). ↩, which differs by its darker, bluish overall tone, less pronounced pinkness in the sky and the absence of the sun disc, as well as the closer-set silhouettes of the sailing ships and a slightly heavier, more melancholic overall mood. Monet returned to a strikingly similar landscape, shrouded in a vibrating bluish haze, eight years later in his work Sunset on the Seine at Lavancourt, Winter Effect (1880, Petit Palais, Paris)¹²https://www.petitpalais.paris.fr/en/oeuvre/sunset-seine-lavacourt-winter-effect (accessed 20 April 2026). ↩, particularly in the depiction of the water and the sun’s reflection in the foreground; here, the background is formed not by boats but by buildings, as well as the silhouettes of dark trees and bushes were added. The work was submitted to the 1880 Salon exhibition but rejected, confirming the jury’s still predominantly traditional viewpoint.

Where, when, at what time?

It may seem that there is no mystery in Monet’s work depicting the view of Le Havre harbour at sunrise, unlike the iconographic enigmas of art from earlier periods with their religious and mythological subjects. However, over time, various theories have emerged regarding both the date and the artist’s location whilst painting, as well as whether the scene ultimately depicts a sunrise or a sunset — which can indeed look similar, as demonstrated by the work Sunset on the Seine at Lavancourt. The catalogue of the 2014 exhibition dedicated to the painting also offers the most comprehensive answers to such questions, as far as they are possible at the current stage of research.

Drawing on photographs, postcards, plans and other materials from Le Havre, researcher and curator Géraldine Lefebvre confirms that Monet painted this panoramic view of the harbour from the Hôtel de l’Amirauté on the Grand Quai (now Quai de Southampton)¹³Lefebvre (2014), 59. ↩, where he stayed on several occasions in the early 1870s. It has sometimes been suggested that Monet painted this view from a boat; an idea expressed, for example, by the American curator William C. Seitz: “It is easy to imagine oneself in Monet’s position here in the harbor of Le Havre, bobbing on the waves in a small boat — a lone observer engrossed in a unique and transitory moment that will never be repeated.”¹⁴William C. Seitz, Claude Monet, New York 2003, 66. ↩ As is well known, Monet did indeed have a floating studio, which was also immortalised by his fellow painter Édouard Manet (1832—1883)¹⁵See: Édouard Manet, Monet Painting in His Studio Boat, 1874, Neue Pinakothek, Munich, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Monet_Painting_on_His_Studio_Boat_Edouard_Manet_1874.jpg (accessed 11 April 2026). ↩. However, this contradicts not only Monet’s own statement mentioned above regarding the view from the window, but also the composition of the painting. Since the horizon line is noticeably higher than the three rowing boats arranged diagonally, it is clear that the viewer’s vantage point was well above the water level.

The date of the work (1872) has also been called into question, even though it is inscribed on the painting. Thus, Daniel Wildenstein, the compiler of the catalogue raisonné of Monet’s works, has suggested dating the painting to 1873¹⁶Daniel Wildenstein, Claude Monet: Biographie et catalogue raisonné, vol. 1, Paris 1974, 226. ↩; however, recent research does not support this view, as it lacks sufficient justification and the technical analysis carried out by restorer Christian Chatellier does not confirm that the date was added to the painting at a later stage.¹⁷Christian Chatellier, ‘Impression, Sunrise: Another perspective’, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 201. ↩

A reference to the sunset in the painting’s title appeared in the 1878 auction catalogue, and subsequently in Encyclopaedia Britannica, in the biography of Monet written by the American artist Charles Merill Mount¹⁸Charles Merill Mount, Monet: A Biography, New York 1966, 213, 245, 416. ↩, and The History of Impressionism by the art historian John Rewald, where the work is reproduced under the title Impression, Sunset.¹⁹John Rewald, The History of Impressionism, New York, 1973, 317. ↩ However, sunsets of Le Havre painted by other artists prove that the view painted by Monet cannot depict a sunset, as it would have to be observed from a different location and entirely different objects would come into view,²⁰Donald W. Olson, “Dating Impression, Sunrise”, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 100—101. ↩ namely, Monet was indeed looking eastwards. This conclusion is put forward by astrophysicist Donald W. Olson, whose topographical analysis of the port of Le Havre, astronomical calculations and meteorological observations have also made it possible to determine several highly plausible dates for the painting’s creation, the most likely of which is 13 November 1872, at 7:35 am.²¹Olson (2014), 104. ↩ Admittedly, Olson’s strictly scientific analysis has also raised doubts as to whether the depicted scene is truly such a meticulous copy of visual perception. The artist may well have taken liberties with what he saw, which makes conclusions based on such calculations less reliable.²²Jon Kear, “Monet’s Impression, Sunrise: The Biography of a Painting”, in: caa.reviews, https://caareviews.org/reviews/2648 (accessed 2 January 2026). ↩ This cannot be entirely ruled out; however, no facts have yet come to light that would prompt a re-evaluation of these conclusions.

The Impressionist Exhibition and Changing Collections

Although the exhibition in April 1874 in Paris at 35 Boulevard des Capucines, in the former studio of the photographer Nadar (real name Gaspard-Félix Tournachon, 1820—1910), where the public first saw Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise, has gone down in history as the First Impressionist Exhibition, recent research has highlighted its eclecticism. Of the thirty participants, fewer than a quarter turned out to be Impressionists. As curator Anne Robins notes, “what brought these artists together, then, was not an outright rejection of the Salon, nor their membership in a specific “school”, nor their adoption of a common style.”²³Anne Robbins, “1874: An Impressionist Exhibition, or an “Eclectic” one?”, in: Patry et al. (2024), 109. ↩ They were united solely by their involvement in a cooperative joint-stock company, whose aims — organising exhibitions independent of the jury and selling works — were financial rather than specifically artistic. The “Cooperative Joint-Stock Company of Painters, Sculptors, Engravers and Lithographers” (Société Anonyme Coopérative d’Artistes Peintres, Sculpteurs, Engravers and Lithographers) was founded in December 1873, and among the event’s initiators were Monet and other Impressionists — Alfred Sisley *(*1839—1899), Camille Pissarro (1830—1903), Auguste Renoir (1841—1919) and Édouard Béliard (1832—1912). However, the exhibition was not particularly successful: “It may be concluded that, financially, it was a fiasco, since, out of the 102 items put up for sale, 98 failed to find a buyer.”²⁴Léa Saint-Raimond, “The Exhibition of 1874: A Commercial Failure?”, in: Patry et al. (2024), 223. ↩ The following year’s exhibition never took place, and the joint-stock company was wound up in April 1875.²⁵Catherine Méneux, “The Founding of the Cooperative Society”, in: Patry et al. (2024), 106. ↩ At the same time, the exhibition did indeed serve the interests of the emerging Impressionists, and its significance should not be denied: “It enabled their works to stand out from the rest of the crowd all the more forcefully and clearly”²⁶Robbins (2024), 109. ↩, and later Impressionist exhibitions were no longer burdened by the works of minor Salon artists.

Claude Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise proved to be one of the successful pieces that did, in the end, find a buyer. The catalogue price for the work was listed as 1,000 francs²⁷Saint-Raimond (2024), 221. ↩ , but it appears to have been sold for a slightly lower sum — 800 francs.²⁸Entry in Monet’s account book, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 205. ↩ The work was purchased by the collector Ernest Hoschedé (1837—1891), a department store magnate who was also active as an art critic. As early as the 1860s, he lent items from his collection to the Salon exhibitions, but by the 1870s the proportion of more traditional works in his collection had diminished in favour of the Impressionists. The collector was repeatedly plagued by financial difficulties and auctioned off works from his collection on several occasions to settle his debts. However, these solutions proved to be short-lived, and in 1878, Hoschedé went bankrupt, forcing him to part not only with his art collection but also with practically all his most valuable possessions.

On 6 June 1878, works from Hoschedé’s collection were auctioned at the Hôtel Drouot, and Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise was purchased for 210 francs by the Romanian-born collector Georges de Bellio (born Gheorghe Bellu, 1826—1894). De Bellio came from an aristocratic, Francophile background and moved to Paris around the mid-19th century, where he spent the income from the family’s landholdings. De Bellio became one of the most active buyers of Monet’s works. His collection was inherited by his daughter Victorine, who managed it together with her husband Eugène Donop de Monchy. Works from the collection were loaned to several Impressionist exhibitions during the 20th century, with the painting Impression, Sunrise being particularly highlighted as a seminal work that launched the movement and gave it its name. As the de Monchy couple had no children, Victoire decided to donate the collection she had inherited from her father to the Marmottan Museum, and the deed of donation was dated 23 May 1940.²⁹Marianne Mathieu, “A Gift “In Case of Risk of War”: the Impact of World War II on the Entry of Impression, Sunrise into the Collections of the Musée Marmottan (1938—1960)”, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 174. ↩ The museum was established in the private residence of the collector, patron and art historian Paul Marmottan (1856—1932), which he bequeathed to the Academy of Fine Arts, and it was opened in 1934.

After the Second World War, the painting Impression, Sunrise increasingly cemented its status as a key work of Impressionism, whilst its appearance on the front pages of the mass media is linked to a theft from the Marmottan Museum in November 1985, involving the Japanese mafia, known as the Yakuza.³⁰“The World’s Greatest Art Heists”, in: Forbes, 12 February 2008, https://www.forbes.com/2008/02/12/art-theft-museums-biz-cx_af_0212artheists.html (accessed 13 April 2026). ↩ Five years later, the nine stolen paintings, including Impression, Sunrise, which were found in a villa on the French island of Corsica, were returned to the museum.³¹“Travel Advisory; Stolen Paintings Back in Paris”, in: The New York Times, 28 April 1991, https://www.nytimes.com/1991/04/28/travel/travel-advisory-stolen-paintings-back-in-paris.html (accessed 13 April 2026). ↩ This “adventure” caused a new, small tear in the canvas’ foreground section (in addition to two earlier, already restored damages), providing work for the restorers, who carried out further stabilisation work after the painting’s recovery.³²Chatellier (2014), 194. ↩

From Impression to Impressionism

The theory that the name “Impressionism” originated from an ironic critique of Monet’s work Impression, Sunrise has been repeated in countless publications, for example:

The most resonant review of the exhibition was written by the art critic Louis Leroy, who singled out Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise as symptomatic of the entire group’s direction and titled his scathing critique “The Impressionist Exhibition”. The artists took this label as a compliment and from that time onwards called themselves “Impressionists” — painters of impressions.³³Birgita Ceidlere, Klods Monē: Dzīve un darbi, Riga 2007, 43 (my translation); original publication: Birgit Zeidler, Claude Monet: Leben und Werk, Köln 1998. ↩

The critic Louis Leroy (1812—1885), a not particularly successful graphic artist, painter and playwright, was undeniably critical of the artistic innovations. In his article “The Impressionist Exhibition” in the satirical magazine Le Charivari, the painting Impression, Sunrise was indeed assigned the role of, in a sense, the “most dreadful” work³⁴Louis Leroy, “L’exposition des Impressionnistes”, Le Charivari, 25 April 1874, 79—80; article reprinted in: Dominique Lobstein, “Claude Monet and Impressionism and the Critics of the Exhibition of 1874”, in: Mathieu and Lobstein (2014), 110—111. ↩ :

A catastrophe seemed imminent to me, and it was reserved for Mr. Monet to contribute the last straw.

“Ah, here he is, here he is!” he cried in front of No. 98. “I recognize him, Papa Vincent’s favorite! What does that canvas depict? Look at the catalogue.”

“Impression, Soleil Levant.”

“Impression, I was sure of it. I was just telling myself that, since I was impressed, there had to be some impression in it… and what freedom, what ease of workmanship! Wallpaper in its embryonic state is more finished than that seascape!”³⁵Lobstein (2014), 112. ↩

The walk through the exhibition described in the article is presented as a sarcastic dialogue between a critic and an imaginary painter of the classical style, Vincent, whose indignation turns into something akin to a fit of madness, in which he can no longer distinguish the paintings from reality. Recent research seeks to shift certain emphases in the genesis of Impressionism. There is no evidence that this derisive article met with an immediate and widespread response; as the Impressionism scholar Sylvie Patrie points out, neither Leroy himself nor the publication Le Charivari had any significant influence in the art world, and the article by the art critic, journalist and politician Jules-Antoine Castagnary (1830—1888) in the newspaper Le Siècle has to be recognised as more important.³⁶Sylvie Patry, ""Impressionist”, Impressions”, in: Patry et al. (2024), 194. ↩ In it, he already quite clearly outlined the specific nature of Impressionism:

They are Impressionists in the sense that they depict not the landscape, but the impression created by the landscape. This word has already entered their vocabulary; it is not a landscape, it is an impression, as Mr Monet’s sunrise is titled in the catalogue. Thus they leave reality behind and enter fully into the realm of idealism. The most important thing that distinguishes them from their predecessors is the question of a greater or lesser degree of completion. The content of art does not change; only the method of its interpretation is modified.³⁷Jules-Antoine Castagnary, “Exposition du boulevard des Capucines. Les Impressionnistes”, in: Le Siècle, 29 April 1874 (my translation), https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k733402z/f3.item.zoom (accessed 16 April 2026). ↩

The term impressionniste was not new in the French language and had already appeared in the 1840s; one might agree with the hypothesis that the prominence of Leroy’s derisive article may have served to create an exaggerated heroic myth of the Impressionists³⁸Patry (2024), 194. ↩ . The exhibition also provoked other critical views³⁹For example, the claims of the critic Émile Cardon that the works in the exhibition defy the basic laws of drawing and painting; whereas the naivety of a child’s drawing might elicit a smile, here it provokes only revulsion: Émile Cardon, “Avant le Salon: L’Exposition des révoltés”, La Presse, 29 April 1874, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k514661n/f2.item.zoom (accessed 20 April 2026). ↩, though these were by no means the only ones. Art historian Dominik Lobstein notes that the emphasis on the significance of Leroy’s text can be linked to the essay “The 50th Anniversary of Impressionism” (1924) by the French art historian Adolphe Tabarant (1863—1950)⁴⁰Adolphe Tabarant, “L’Impressionnisme à Cinquante Ans d’Âge”, in: Bulletin de la Vie Artistique, 15 April 1924, 170—172, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k6107907m/f8.item (accessed 16 April 2026). ↩ ; his example “became a commonplace in art history books, overshadowing the long history of the word “impression” and its developments, or more rigorous analyses of the phenomenon”⁴¹Lobstein (2014), 114. ↩ .

The painting Impression, Sunrise marks both the beginning of the specifically Impressionist period in Monet’s own art and a turning point in the history of European art. The distinction mentioned by Castagnary between “landscape” and “the impression created by the landscape” is significant and useful in this regard, though perhaps not sufficiently elaborated. “Impression” in this case is an optically perceptible reality arising from sensory experience, as noted by Latvian art historian Eduards Kļaviņš:

Artists began to limit themselves to the overall impression, which became the main fragment of visually perceptible reality; in other words, they did not capture as many features of a single object as possible — structure, proportions, volume and colour — in a given space and under specific lighting, but only a few, specially selected features in their interrelationships.⁴²Eduards Kļaviņš, Impresionisms, Riga 1994, 7 (my translation). ↩

Thus landscape, with its tangibly perceptible objects that capture materiality still characteristic of 19th-century Realism is transformed into a dematerialised vision conjured by individual brushstrokes, the most provocative aspect of which lies in the effect of being unfinished. Innovations that rework and develop earlier precedents to a new level can provide the basis for the inclusion of a work of art within a specific canon, by assessing “how that, which the picture is of, is made manifest [author’s emphasis]”⁴³Paul Crowther, Defining Art, Creating the Canon: Artistic Value in the Era of Doubt, Oxford 2007, Kindle ed., part III, chap. 5, sec. 2. ↩ in relation to a comparative horizon of historical difference highlighted by the British aesthetician Paul Crowther.

The far-reaching significance of the painting may lie in the fact that Monet “made freedom a principle of creation and dissemination: freedom to take his subjects […]; freedom to paint them according to his own “impression” […] and lastly, the freedom to judge for himself, as the creator of the work, whether the work was finished.⁴⁴Patry et al. (2024), 15. ↩ The new way in which the landscape was made manifest at that time has long been recognised as an art-historical value, thus reminding us of the shifting horizons of historical difference.