Henri Martin

Henri Martin
Henri Martin (1860–1943), French, Henri Jean Guillaume Martin, known as Henri Martin, was a French post-impressionist painter born on August 5, 1860, in Toulouse, France. The son of a cabinetmaker and a homemaker, Martin's artistic journey began at the École des beaux-arts in Toulouse, where he studied under Jules Garipuy from 1877 to 1879. A municipal scholarship enabled him to move to Paris to study under Jean-Paul Laurens. In 1881, he married Marie Charlotte Barbaroux, a pastellist he met at the Beaux-Arts in Toulouse, with whom he had four sons, two of whom became painters.
Martin's artistic style underwent a significant transformation after a trip to Italy in 1885, where he studied the primitives alongside Edmond Aman-Jean and Ernest Laurent. This experience steered him towards a more poetic inspiration, leading him to adopt a unique divisionist technique. Unlike the rigid academic models, Martin's approach was characterized by short, separate, and parallel brushstrokes that crafted forms and light in an idealized chromaticism conducive to dreaming. Influenced by symbolist themes and literature, including works by Poe, Dante, and Baudelaire, Martin's paintings often featured misty landscapes populated by melancholic, timeless figures. His contributions to the art world were recognized in various exhibitions, including the salons of the Rose-Croix in 1892. Henri Martin passed away on November 12, 1943, in Labastide-du-Vert, leaving behind a legacy that bridged post-impressionism and symbolism.
  • L’été, scène champêtre (1905-1907)

    L’été, scène champêtre (1905-1907)

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    Dappled sunlight filters through the trees, casting golden patches on the grass. A lazy summer afternoon unfolds—figures rest in the shade, their forms dissolving into brushstrokes of vibrant color. The air hums with warmth, the scene pulsing with the rhythm of light and shadow.

  • Saint Francis of Assisi

    Saint Francis of Assisi

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    A humble figure kneels in golden light, robes pooling around him. The brushstrokes blur the boundary between man and nature, as if the very air shimmers with devotion. This Francis seems to dissolve into the landscape, becoming one with the world he loved.

  • Corner of a House (c. 1930s)

    Corner of a House (c. 1930s)

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    Sunlight slants across weathered stone, softening the edges where wall meets roof. A quiet patch of French countryside holds its breath—just a corner, really, but alive with dappled shadows and the weight of midday heat. The house seems to exhale color into the still air.

  • Trois petites filles au jardin, un matin d’été (circa 1903)

    Trois petites filles au jardin, un matin d’été (circa 1903)

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    Three girls in white dresses drift through sun-dappled garden paths, their blurred forms dissolving into the shimmering summer light. Loose brushstrokes weave blossoms and foliage into a haze of color, as if the air itself hums with warmth. Childhood hangs suspended in this fleeting, golden hour.

  • Les Vieux Prunier (circa 1940)

    Les Vieux Prunier (circa 1940)

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    Gnarled plum branches twist against a soft sky, their blossoms trembling with light. The garden hums with quiet energy—each brushstroke alive, flickering between shadow and sun. Time slows here, where the old tree stands rooted in dappled color.

  • Les Fleurs

    Les Fleurs

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    A garden bursts with color—dabs of pink, yellow, and violet dance across the canvas. Loose brushstrokes blur the flowers into a dreamy haze, as if seen through sunlit air. The petals seem to sway, alive with the warmth of a summer afternoon.

  • Les trois muses

    Les trois muses

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    Three women stand in a sunlit grove, their draped forms blending with dappled leaves. One holds a lyre, another gazes downward, the third seems to listen—each lost in separate thought yet bound by quiet harmony. The scene hums with unspoken poetry, a silent chorus of inspiration.

  • Étude pour ‘La Moisson’ (1919)

    Étude pour ‘La Moisson’ (1919)

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    Golden fields ripple under a heavy sun as workers bend in rhythm. Scythes flash, wheat falls in thick swaths. The air hums with heat and labor, earth and sweat mingling in the dust. A moment suspended—not idyllic, not harsh, simply the harvest’s relentless pulse.

  • Le balcon de Jaurès (circa 1915)

    Le balcon de Jaurès (circa 1915)

    Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

    A woman leans on the balcony railing, bathed in the soft glow of evening. The city stretches below, its rooftops dissolving into hazy blues and purples. Light catches the folds of her dress, blending with the dreamlike brushstrokes of the scene—quiet, intimate, suspended in twilight.