Fernand Khnopff (1858-1921)

[Daisy]

The following is an excerpt from a longer biographical sketch, the full text of which can be found on the website www.fernandkhnopff.com:

Fernand Khnopff was born to a wealthy family that was part of the high bourgeoisie for generations. Khnopff's ancestors had lived in Flanders since the early 17th-century but were of Austrian and Portuguese descent. Most male members of his family had been lawyers or judges, and young Fernand was destined for a juridical career. In his early childhood (1859-1864) he lived in Bruges where his father was appointed Substitut Du Procureur Du Roi. His childhood memories of the medieval city of Bruges would play a significant role in his later work. In 1864 the family moved to Brussels.

To please his parents he went to law school at the Free University of Brussels when he was 18 years old. During this period he developed a passion for literature, discovering the works of Baudelaire, Flaubert, Leconte de Lisle and other mostly French authors. With his younger brother Georges Khnopff—also a passionate amateur of contemporary music and poetry—he started to frequent Jeune Belgique (“Young Belgium”), a group of young writers including Max Waller, Georges Rodenbach, Iwan Gilkin and Emile Verhaeren.

Khnopff left University due to a lack of interest in his law studies and began to frequent the studio of Xavier Mellery, who made him familiar with the art of painting. On the 25th of October 1876 he enrolled for the Cours De Dessin Après Nature (“course of drawing after nature”) at the Académie Royale des Beaux-Arts en Bruxelles. At the Académie, his most famous fellow student was James Ensor, whom he disliked from the start. Between 1877 and 1880 Khnopff made several trips to Paris where he discovered the work of Delacroix, Ingres, Moreau and Stevens. At the Paris World Fair of 1878 he became acquainted with the oeuvre of Millais and Burne-Jones.

In 1881 he presented his works to the public for the first time at the “Salon de l'Essor” in Brussels. In 1885 he met the French novelist Joséphin Péladan, the future grandmaster of the Rosicrucian “Ordre de la Rose + Croix.” Péladan asked Khnopff to design the cover for his new book “Le Vice supreme.” Khnopff accepted this commission but destroyed the work later because the famous soprano Rose Caron was offended by the imaginary portrait of Leonora d’Este that Khnopff had designed to adorn the cover and in which Caron thought she recognised her own face. The vehement reaction of “La Caron” on this occasion made a scandal in the Belgian and Parisian press and would help to establish Khnopff's name as an artist.

In 1889 Khnopff established contacts in England, where he would stay and exhibit regularly. British artists such as Hunt, Watts, Rossetti, Brown and Burne-Jones would become his friends. From 1895 Khnopff worked as a correspondent for the British art journal “The Studio.” Until the outbreak of World War I in 1914 Khnopff would be responsible for the rubric “Studio-Talks-Brussels,” in which he reported about artistic developments in Belgium and continental Europe. In March 1898 Khnopff presented a selection of 21 works at the first exhibition of the Vienna Secession. In Vienna his work was received with great admiration. The works he presented at the Secession would become a major influence on the oeuvre of Gustav Klimt.

Khnopff had a passion for theatre and opera. His first designs for the theatre date from 1903, when he sketched the sets for a production of Georges Rodenbach’s play “Le Mirage” at the Deutsches Theater Berlin. This production was directed by the famous Max Reinhardt, and the sets evoked the gloomy streets of the mysterious city of Bruges where Khnopff spent his early childhood; they were much appreciated by the Berlin public and critics.

Although not a very open man, he achieved cult status during his life. His sister, Marguerite, was one of his favorite subjects. His most famous painting is probably “The Caress.” His art often portrayed a recurring theme found in symbolist art: the dualistic vision of woman as either “femme fatale” or angelic woman.

Listening to Schumann (1883):

Study of Women (1887):

I lock my door upon myself (1891):

Bruges-la-Morte (1892):

The Sphinx, or, The Caress (1896):

Souvenir de Bruges. L’entrée du Béguinage (1904):

An Abandoned Town (1904):

[Doctor Munoz]

The las two are amazing. "Souvenir de Bruges" has to be one of the more beautiful city landscapes ever.
Bruges (in Spanish Brujas, same word than "witches") is a place I want to visit before I die. After watching this marvel from Khnopff, I wonder if it is better to visit it after you die. Thank you Daisy.

[Nemonymous]

Beautifully drowsy with divinity.

[Odalisque]

Of those, I think that only Listening to Schumann doesn't seem dream-like. Listening to Schumann an activity for the wide awake?

[vegetable theories]

I love Knoppff. I've never seen the Listening to Schumann picture before. It's great.
I disagree with you slightly about that, Odalisque. I like to listen to Schumann (and everyone else, come to think of it) with a couple of glasses of red wine. Not wide awake, but more lost in the music.
He's a funny one Knoppff, even when he paints a completely realistic mundane subject matter, it still has an odd mysterious quality. I'm thinking of one he painted of some ladies holding tennis racquets. I'll see if I can find it...

[Nemonymous]

I, too, love Schumann, particularly his piano music. He wrote one called 'Dreams'.
Hear it here:

YouTube - Schumann Traumerei

Awake, dozing or asleep. It's equally good whatever you happen to be doing.

[Daisy]

Quote Originally Posted by vegetable theories

Even when he paints a completely realistic mundane subject matter, it still has an odd mysterious quality. I'm thinking of one he painted of some ladies holding tennis racquets. I'll see if I can find it...

Here it is, vegetable theories! Thanks for mentioning this painting . . . I'm sorry I neglected to include it in my original post.

Memories (1889)

[G. S. Carnivals]

Quote Originally Posted by Daisy

Memories (1889)

"Tennis anyone?" asks Mildred. "Not me, Mil," replies Helen. "I have a headache. You still have a foursome, though."