When offered a visa to Brazil in 1940, Henri Matisse told his son that leaving France would be like "deserting." "If everyone who has any value leaves France," he asked, "what remains of France?" This declaration challenges a narrative that has persisted for decades, thanks in large part to Michele Cone's assessment that Henri Matisse was "supremely indifferent" to World War II—painting as France crumbled around him. Christopher C. Gorham's "Matisse at War" presents a compelling argument against this view, portraying Matisse not as an aloof bourgeois but as a man deeply entangled in the personal and moral crises of the Occupation.
The book is narrow in scope, focusing on Matisse and his family rather than attempting a broad survey of wartime art. This tight focus allows Gorham to explore the period with intimacy. The story is as much about Amélie and Marguerite Matisse—who risked their lives in the Resistance—as it is about Henri. Their experiences, alongside those of Matisse’s son, Jean, and his Russian assistant, Lydia Delectorskaya, provide the dramatic tension against which the painter’s decisions take on meaning.
Gorham’s revisionist claim is two-pronged: Matisse’s choice to remain in France when he could have fled, and the symbolic content of his wartime works. When Matisse told his son that leaving would be like “deserting,” Gorham frames this as an act of solidarity rather than detachment. His analysis of artworks like "Jazz" and the cover for "Verve" argues persuasively for coded defiance through images of the fleur-de-lys or the snarling wolf, which stand in for national endurance and menace, respectively. Whether all readers will accept these interpretations is another matter, but the case is made with conviction and meticulous attention to evidence.
The book’s strengths are clear. It is built on deep archival research, with extensive use of personal letters and memoirs that reveal Matisse’s anxieties for his family and his own health. It is also highly readable. Gorham writes with narrative dash, weaving family drama, political intrigue, and artistic interpretation into a story that rarely feels bogged down. For general readers, it may be as engaging as a novel; for specialists, it offers a forceful intervention in art history under the Vichy regime.
The book's limitations stem from the same qualities that make it compelling. Gorham writes with clear sympathy for Matisse, which occasionally risks overstating the political intent behind aesthetic choices. Yet these concerns don't diminish the book's significance. "Matisse at War" succeeds in replacing the myth of artistic detachment with evidence of profound engagement. By revealing how Matisse's anxiety for his family in the Resistance, his symbolic use of French patriotic imagery, and his very presence as a cultural figurehead constituted forms of resistance, Gorham demonstrates that even seemingly private acts of creativity were part of France's moral struggle. The artist emerges not as the conventional figure too often described in scholarship, but as a man whose revolutionary art and steadfast presence became weapons against fascism's assault on humanistic values.
This review is of an advance reader's edition provided by NetGalley and Kensington Publishing | Citadel.