Gustave Caillebotte: Roofs Under Snow (Snow Effect) 1878
Chèr Monsieur Caillebotte,
I am writing to you because I had a déjà vu while I was watching your snowy rooftops in the Musee d’Orsay. I had the same view from my window when I lived in Paris. I love Monsieur Mansart’s roofs, which he brought into fashion almost 400 years ago, oh, pardon, for you only 250 years ago. I love them not only because they are beautiful but because mansard roofs created an extra floor, a new living space for whom might not afford more else: bohème artists.
I know you come from an upper-class family and never lived in a mansard room at all. You lived in a spacious and elegant apartment from where you painted the snowy rooftops.
I am sure you agree, that Paris is even more beautiful with snow: the whiteness gives a certain light to the city, a deliciously glitter wrapping. That is why I like your painting: because it reminds me of those precious winter days in Paris.
I remember the Christmas trees standing in every Haussmann buildings’ entrance door set by the housemasters. I remember the fantastically set musical-dancing shop-windows of the Galleries de La Fayette. I remember my daughter writing in the snow “I love mom” at the Trocadero Garden. It reminds me of the roasted chestnut’s smell they sold at every corner in the city.
But it is not just the wintertime in Paris you recalled to me. Looking over your artistic repertoire, I recognized the everyday life of the Parisian upper-class families. Simple, ordinary actions, the little details of a restful and tranquil life; Someone looks out of a window; someone dresses up in front of a mirror; someone plays on the piano; someone has lunch at the fancy table; someone reads a newspaper and another someone copy writes by hand.
Also, you painted the rainy days, which are much more common in Paris than snow, n’est-ce pas? And when you moved to the countryside you pictured paddling, sprinkling, and dog walking figures.
I hope you won’t be pissed at me if I say it was such a shame you retired from painting at the age of 34. You went gardening, collecting stamps and building race boats?? If you would have known that you die when you are 45, would you have changed your mind? Oh, and just so you know, your stamp collection is in the British Museum on display.
I must tell, posterity remembers you as a great supporter of the young painters. You helped them by buying their paintings when no one else did, like in the cases of Pissarro and Renoir or by paying their studio rent like Monet’s, sometimes saving their lives with your generosity. You had a big heart. Your friend, Degas, must have been very proud of you. You never had to go through hard financial times like they had but you felt their problems anyway.
I do not know how I got from snowy rooftops to stamps. I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for the nice, intimate portrayal of the seemingly unimportant small things that make our lives complete and that without them we could not do the big things.
I am thankful, Monsieur Caillebotte, for the memories your painting brought back to me. Next time I am in Paris, let us make a rendezvous in the Musee d’Orsay in front of your snowy rooftops! But only when it is snowing outside too!
