Have We Sacrificed too Much for Our Toilets?

Recently, I’ve been reading a biography about Pierre-Auguste Renoir written by the artist’s son, Jean Renoir. I typically have difficulty making my way through traditional biographies, but this book is so engaging in the way it so vividly paints (no pun intended) the life of Renoir and the experiences and beliefs that shaped his work. 

There is so much I could discuss about this book, but I want to focus on the quote which I’ve thought about nearly every day since I read it. I’ve provided the quote below, which was recorded by Jean but attributed to Renoir, and I want to break down what it means not only in the context of the biography, but in the context of our world today.

“I have a bathroom that I cannot do without. But can I use the bathroom without losing my taste for a Louis the Fifteenth sculptured frame decorated with gold leaf? If the day ever comes when I’m satisfied with just a plaster frame gilded with synthetic gold, then I’ll have paid too dearly for the comfort of my bathroom.”

This quote was spoken some time after the last Impressionist exhibition in 1886, but before Renoir’s injury-sustaining bicycle accident in 1897. Jean, his son, published this biography in 1962. There is no way of knowing whether Renoir spoke this exact sentence, in fact it’s pretty unlikely unless it was written down somewhere, but nevertheless it summarizes his beliefs about materialism and the value of fine art perfectly.

What Renoir is expressing here is his reaction to the rampant spread of industrialization and modern life in France– a major subject in the Impressionist movement. Renoir’s life was positioned during a time when inventions and machines and bureaucracy were on the immediate rise, bringing about for the first time things such as mass-produced clothing, automobiles, and the widespread use of the flushing toilet. These things, among many others, mark one of the most significant societal shifts in human history that has continuing effects on the world as we know it today. Imagine how transformative it would feel to have seen both the French Revolution of 1848 and the invention of cars in the same lifetime? As I noticed from Jean’s writing, it led to many people feeling extreme grief and dread more than anything: the mourning of their way of life as it slowly drifted into the past and the increasing concern for the future of art, connection, and nature with each factory that punctured a skyline once balanced with trees.

In the biography, Jean describes this dislike Renoir felt for the course of humanity with constant examples and detail. This  redundancy is intentional, considering how strongly this feeling must’ve been felt given the magnitude of the changes being experienced at the time. Look no further than nearly every Renoir painting to discover just how embedded this theme was in his life.

As I read this book, I couldn’t help but notice the parallels between Renoir’s time and today. We currently live in a time of constant change and progress where we have seen equally significant shifts in our way of life. We have lived through the invention of cell phones and computers and technologies that have fundamentally influenced our culture. In the midst of all this change and progress, I find myself and many others, experiencing feelings of dread that echo Renoir’s.

Now I want to circle back to the quote that inspired this post. Renoir describes that while he has embraced the new luxury of the flushing toilet for its convenience, he argues that humanity’s constant efforts to reach a more convenient future are infecting the parts of being human that are made so special precisely because they are inconvenient. In this quote, he uses “a Louis the Fifteenth sculptured frame decorated with gold leaf” as an example of handmade art that has been conceptualized, designed, assembled, and embellished by a single artist or artisan shop. This is something that would have required an incredible amount of effort and work for the artist to make. For the buyer, it would’ve been an expensive and luxurious item to purchase. The new owner of the frame would probably display an original painting made by another artist inside, something sentimental like a rendering of the big church from their hometown, and the combination of frame and painting would’ve become a product of effort, love, appreciation, creativity, and respect between multiple humans. It would’ve been a conversation piece, a prized possession, an heirloom, and a reflection of artistic expression and its power to connect and inspire.

In the dawn of mass production, Renoir compares this frame to a plaster version, created to look identical to thousands of others, and sold for a fraction of the cost. Less expensive, more convenient, easily replaceable, and flawless. These qualities are often framed as benefits to a given product: it’s cheap and easy to get ahold of and if it breaks, it’s easy to get a new one because there’s an endless supply and they all look exactly alike. I think this concept is something Renoir would loathe about today’s consumer industry.

There is an argument to be made for increased access– we make and sell plastic frames so that everyone has the opportunity to hang a photo or print they like on their own wall and express themselves. As a proponent of expression, I’m not against this idea in theory— and I don’t think Renoir was either— but I do think that we have sacrificed much of the soul and value behind art in our efforts to make it cheaper and more convenient. And when we make and sell thousands and thousands of the same floral print already installed in the same wooden frame, is this really making self-expression more accessible when thousands and thousands of people have the exact same one? Multiply this effect by every mass-produced item we own and the sameness is overwhelming.

I think I could write endlessly about this subject. The natural course of this topic would lead me to discuss how these cheaper and more convenient things are rarely actually made for the sake of accessibility— this is often just a byproduct of the business owner's desire to sell the most products and make the most money. And besides, the things that remain cheap to purchase today are certainly not made to last.

Since Renoir’s time, the world has only moved further along into a place steeped in mass-produced and manufactured art and I don’t think it seems to be slowing down any time soon. For all the conveniences and comforts technology has brought us, it has also taken so much away from what it means to be human. Once again, it’s not that I’m wishing away the inventions that have made our lives truly better, but I think it’s important to consider what we’re losing in the name of growth.

I’ll admit, I think to assume art will vanish entirely is very overdramatic. The need to express and create is human nature, and it’s impossible to collectively forget that. But, I am fearful that we could reach a point of such sameness and restlessness that life would become so unbearably dull before we reconnect with the value of art in an authentic and widespread way.

I’ll wrap up this post briefly, because I think you’ll have already come to a natural call-to-action by now. What can you do to support art and ensure its continued value? Buy from artists, create art to express yourself, and consume the kind of art that makes you feel human– not just which on-sale print matches your couch. I’m not intending to make the argument that handmade art should be kept exclusive and expensive to retain its value, only that it should continue to be made by hands. Of course, the way our modern world is designed means that we can’t always buy a handcrafted dining table or an original oil painting for our wall, but if we have the means and the access, I think we should embrace individuality over everything. Or, at the very least, we can stop by the local art museum every once in a while.