The Apparition of Madam X

I believe one of the reasons I'm devoted to our work in museums is that we teach people to truly see and make important associations between objects and ideas. My life has been richer because I can read both word and imagery. My teachers were Nancy Foil, my high school art teacher, Edward Pramuk, Harvey Harris, Joe Bova, Susan Baker and many other professors at university who guided and challenged me. They instructed me in the craft of making the right associations. They taught me how to see.

We rarely make conscious associations regarding what we see, but for me, one night twenty years ago, it was different. The night was perfect. No breeze, no moon. Luke, my eleven year old son, and I grabbed the nets and lantern and headed for the beach. Soft shell crabs are easier to see beneath the water's surface with the absence of moonlight reflection and movement on the surface. I love balmy nights on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The brackish inter-coastal waterways between the barrier islands and the coast are teaming with shrimp, crabs and red fish. Fried soft shell crab is never better than when it is served within an hour of the catch.

Luke and I began pacing, knee deep in the tide, shuffling our feet side by side. We didn't want to step directly on a sting ray. Most of the crabs we caught were lazily crawling along the bottom. If you're quick with the net you can scoop them up with little effort. It was peaceful and we were enveloped in total blackness, no sound, only the hiss of our Coleman lantern. After an hour, Luke and I caught a half dozen and headed for the shoreline when a ghost like image appeared in the periphery of my vision. A tall white figure was standing in the water just beyond the edge of our lantern glow. I held the lamp higher...I will never forget the sound of our tandem gasps...there she was, pale as moonlight, naked and elegant. She didn't move and neither did we.

I enjoy this U.S. Coastal Survey Map done in 1866, before the Casinos and oil platforms.

Later, I had to paint her. Sometimes you just need to record a moment or experience whether it be through art, music or writing.

Great Egret, Ocean Springs 1992

Standing there in the Mississippi sound I made an immediate association, one that moved me to paint, a motivation I've not enjoyed in nearly a decade. When I saw that egret I recalled the first time I saw John Singer Sargent's Madam X. While a great white egret stood in front of us in the tepid waters of the Gulf, it was the epitome of that elegant and graceful woman portrayed in Sargent's masterpiece.

John Singer Sargent, Madame X (Madame Pierre Gautreau), 1884, oil on canvas, 234.95 × 109.86 cm, (92.50 in × 43.25 in), Manhattan: Metropolitan Museum of Art.

For the past eight years I have had the privilege of serving on our Parish Public Library Board of Control. I'm always delighted and surprised when reviewing the library usage statistics. Even with the advancing digital age, libraries continue to be an important resource for the community. Libraries and museums are siblings. We both collect, preserve, and make these collections accessible to the public.

Yet, there is an important difference between libraries and art museums. In most cases library patrons know how to read. As for art museums, particularly in rural communities where few people have ever been exposed to museums or the visual arts, we have to teach our patrons how to read art work. One comes to understand and fully appreciate art by spending time in museums and art galleries. This requires looking at a lot of art, reading the exhibition labels and asking a lot of questions and challenging the artist's intent or the curator's assumptions.


Just like an early reader in a preschool classroom, individuals learning to understand art, must begin by knowing the history and meaning of rudimentary imagery. "Reading" an exhibition of Modern or Contemporary art requires basic mastery of the visual lexicon of art. With a little study one can recognize and recall the meaning of symbols, compositions, color use and imagery. I've never seen "new" art. I've seen great contemporary art that owes its origination to the annals of preceding forms and ideas. All imagery is built on the foundation of creations by preceding artists. Representations from earlier artistic efforts are reused, recycled and translated in some way to create a different image or object. A wonderful example of how powerful a visual heritage can be is found in the work of Deborah Grant. Watch a video interview with Grant presented on NewArtTV.

Cave Paintings

Cave paintings in Lascoux, France

Some anthropologists and art historians claim our visual language began over 50,000 years ago in places like the caves of Lascoux, France and the deserts of Australia. Early man discovered that mark-making was an effective way to communicate ideas and record events, either real or dreamed. Our first language was a visual language, not a written language.  Many scholars suspect that these paintings and their associative meaning held tremendous power over the future of the people who created them.

 "Paint the antelope and they will appear in the fields tomorrow."

When I have an opportunity to speak with students visiting the museum, I try to impress upon them the importance of mastering both the written and visual language. I tell them to expand their visual reference library with works of art from every age and culture and to enrich their vocabulary with new and old words.  Don't be afraid to associate words and begin to create stories and poems. Don't hesitate to make associations between imagery and meaning.


While some people may have reservations about the deductions of anthropologists and art historians regarding the beliefs of primitive man and his mark making, I know that Virginie Gautreau (Madame X) appeared to me in the form of an egret that warm July night in the shallows of the Mississippi sound.