Venice, despite the unsold paintings

Bocion had returned from Venice with paintings, but without the success he expected. The MCBA entry reports his disappointment at works remaining unsold. Yet he returns to the lagoon in 1881. After his return to Lausanne, this second journey leads to the 1882 canvas Venice. The story thus begins with a quiet resistance: a destination has not fulfilled all its commercial promises, but retains enough interest for the painter to return and put his experience of water to work again.

The first stay dates from the summer of 1874. Before leaving, Bocion writes to Eugène Rambert of his hope for renewal. The museum therefore does not describe this journey as a simple outing with nothing at stake. The painter of Lake Geneva seeks other motifs, then must deal with the reception of his works. Between a journey and its outcome, several things intervene: the studies brought back, time in the studio, completed paintings and encounters with buyers. The second visit merely shows that disappointment did not end this work; it does not allow us to invent his private reasons for returning.

Looking at the work — In the MCBA reproduction, boats fill much of the foreground and centre. Red and yellow sails rise in front of a much paler city. Black hulls punctuate the water, and masts establish vertical lines reaching into the sky. Figures stand near vessels and goods. Architecture appears between the sails rather than above empty water. The elongated view thus brings together several rhythms: nearby, strongly contrasting forms, a crowded horizon, then bright light in the sky.

The painting is developed in Lausanne from sketches made in front of the subject. The museum locates the viewpoint in the Castello district, south of the Arsenal. San Giorgio Maggiore and Santa Maria della Salute are among the recognisable landmarks. These details make the location more precise, but do not sum up what the painting shows. The familiar monuments are accompanied, and sometimes interrupted, by boats. Bocion organises a city where people can pass, load, work and sail, instead of leaving buildings to stand alone in an unobstructed panorama.

This choice connects with a familiar concern in his paintings of Lake Geneva. The Musée Jenisch recalls how the lake remains a source of motifs, activities and changing light for him. Venice offers a different arrangement of these elements. Here, the water leads towards a dense architectural line; vessels become markers through which we measure distances. The eye can jump from a sail to a dome, return to a hull and then find the sky again. The foreign destination therefore requires a new construction from the painter, while allowing him to work with things he already knows how to observe.

The canvas's dimensions, almost a metre and a half wide, give this movement a particular breadth. We do not identify the whole city at once. The pale sails hold our attention, while objects along the lower edge keep us close to the water. The sky gathers very different elements into the same light. This reading of the composition reveals a balance: the horizon could close the image, but the boats give it intervals and directions. In the activities of the place itself, the painter finds ways to open up the view.

The passage through the studio helps explain this organisation without reconstructing an unknown painting session. The sketches are not merely memories to preserve; they provide elements that can be revisited, brought together and adjusted. The large canvas therefore does not coincide with a single Venetian moment. It offers an encounter constructed from the journey. This work gives it independence: even for viewers who have never walked through Castello, differences in size, colour and density are enough to establish relationships between the planes.

The MCBA acquires Venice in 1896. The painting has then found a different destination from the first works that remained with the artist. We cannot conclude that all commercial disappointments were remedied; we can observe that this view continued its journey into a public collection. Before it, travel does not end with a list of monuments. It remains in the boats leading us between them. Bocion had returned to Venice despite the unsold works; he brought back another way of looking at water.