The joy of living according to matisse: When colour becomes emotion
Imagine a morning in 1905 in Collioure. The Mediterranean sun floods the narrow streets, making the white façades vibrate like blank canvases. In his makeshift studio, a man with bushy eyebrows and a well-groomed moustache sets down his brush. He has just finished The Open Window, a painting where the blue of the sea mingles with the pink of geraniums in an explosion of pure colour. Henri Matisse, then thirty-six years old, does not yet know it, but this work will scandalise the public and mark the birth of Fauvism. What strikes the viewer is not just the violence of the hues—this ultramarine blue that seems to scream, this emerald green dancing with vermilion red—but the way these apparently anarchic colours create perfect harmony. A harmony that does not seek to reproduce reality but to capture its joyful essence.
By Artedusa
••8 min readMatisse never believed in painting as mere representation. For him, a canvas should be "a good armchair" for the soul, a refuge where colours act as visual therapy. This idea, revolutionary at the time, would upend our relationship with art and decoration. But how can a simple arrangement of pigments provoke such emotion? What if the key lay in that secret alchemy between hues, shapes, and our own sensitivity?
01The studio as a laboratory of happiness
Step into Matisse’s studio in Nice, at 1 Place Charles-Félix. The air is thick with the scent of turpentine and wax, mingled with the fragrance of cut flowers in scattered vases. The walls, painted immaculate white, serve as a backdrop for works in progress—vivid gouache cut-outs, charcoal drawings, patinated bronze sculptures. Here, everything breathes joyful experimentation.
Matisse worked like an alchemist, blending techniques with disconcerting freedom. He moved from painting to sculpture, from drawing to paper cut-outs, as one changes the subject of conversation. "I do not paint things," he said, "I paint the difference between things." This approach explains why his interiors, like The Red Studio (1911), seem both real and dreamlike. Objects float in a space where traditional perspective is abolished in favour of a purely emotional logic.
What fascinates in these compositions is their ability to create an immediate sense of well-being. The colours are not chosen at random: the deep red of the studio absorbs light like velvet, while touches of blue and green bring a physical freshness. Matisse instinctively understood what modern science has confirmed: colours influence our mood, our heart rate, our perception of temperature. His genius was to transform this empirical knowledge into a universal language.
02The palette as a musical score
Look at The Dance (1910), that mesmerising round where five figures leap against an electric blue background. The bodies, painted in an orange-red that seems to pulse, create such a violent contrast that it becomes harmonious. Matisse often compared painting to music: "I do not paint things, I paint the relationships between things. Like a musician who does not compose notes, but intervals."
This musical analogy is particularly apt for understanding his mastery of colour. In Music (1910), the figures are reduced to almost abstract silhouettes, bathed in a symphony of greens, blues, and reds. The colours play like instruments: the deep blue of the background evokes bass notes, while touches of yellow and orange bring luminous highs. The result is a composition that is not merely seen—it is physically felt.
Matisse pushed this idea to its limits. In his later paper cut-outs, like The Sorrows of the King (1952), the coloured shapes seem to dance on the paper like notes on a staff. These works, created when he was nearly paralysed, prove that for him, colour was much more than a tool: it was a language in its own right, capable of expressing the inexpressible.
03The scandal of pure colours
Let us return to that infamous Salon d’Automne of 1905. In Room VII, the canvases of Matisse, Derain, and Vlaminck explode like chromatic bombs. Horrified critics speak of a "cage of wild beasts." One journalist writes: "A pot of paint has been thrown in the public’s face." Yet what shocks is not so much the violence of the colours as their purity. Matisse and his friends used unmixed pigments, straight from the tube, applied in bold, flat planes.
This audacity was not gratuitous. Matisse sought to free colour from its descriptive function and restore its emotional power. In The Green Stripe (1905), his wife Amélie’s face is streaked with a green line following the bridge of her nose. This choice, which caused a scandal, was no whim: it allowed him to model the face with colour alone, without resorting to traditional chiaroscuro. Light no longer came from an external source but from the colours themselves.
This chromatic revolution had a lasting impact on modern art. It also influenced interior decoration, paving the way for interiors where walls could be painted cobalt blue, sofas in bright red, without seeming vulgar. Matisse proved that colour did not need to justify itself through realism—it could exist for its own sake, as a source of pure joy.
04The intimacy of colourful interiors
Step into Interior with Amajor digital platformsgines (1911), and you will immediately understand what Matisse meant by "joy through colour." This painting, created in his Nice apartment, depicts a room where every element seems to breathe. The walls are a deep, almost mystical violet, while the amajor digital platformsgines on the table burst in shades of purple and green. The floor, painted brick red, provides a warm base that contrasts with the turquoise blue of the windows.
What strikes the viewer in this interior is its perfect balance between boldness and comfort. The colours, though vivid, do not assault—they envelop. Matisse used a technique he called "the balance of forces": each colour finds its counterpart in another, creating dynamic harmony. The violet of the walls converses with the yellow of the lemons, while the red of the floor responds to the green of the plants.
This approach has profoundly influenced modern decoration. Even today, designers draw on these principles to create spaces that stimulate without exhausting. A wall painted Prussian blue, as in The Dessert: Harmony in Red (1908), can transform an ordinary room into an artistic refuge. Matisse’s lesson? Colour is not a mere decorative element—it is a living presence that can metamorphose our daily lives.
05Light as raw material
In Nice, where Matisse settled in 1917, the Mediterranean light became his primary collaborator. He wrote: "When I realise that the light in the South is different from that in the North, I tell myself I must paint differently." This realisation marked a turning point in his work. In Interior in Nice (1920), the colours seem literally bathed in sunlight. The whites are no longer whites but nuances of light, while the shadows take on blues and violets.
Matisse did not merely reproduce light—he recreated it. In Odalisque with Red Culottes (1924), the shimmering fabrics, flashy jewels, and intricate patterns create an almost tangible atmosphere. The light is both diffuse and precise, as if passing through frosted glass. This mastery of coloured light explains why his canvases always seem alive, as if they continue to breathe long after being painted.
This approach has fascinating implications for decoration. It suggests that colour should not be chosen based on fleeting trends but in harmony with the natural light of a place. A duck blue, sublime under the Provençal sky, may appear dull under a northern sky. Matisse teaches us to observe, to experiment, to let light guide our palette.
06The final act: the gouache cut-outs
Matisse’s final years were marked by a new revolution: the gouache cut-outs. Paralysed by illness, he began cutting shapes from coloured paper, creating compositions of childlike freshness. The Parakeet and the Mermaid (1952), with its organic forms and vivid colours, resembles an underwater garden. These works, often considered minor, are in fact the culmination of his quest for joy through colour.
What strikes the viewer in these cut-outs is their apparent simplicity. Yet every shape, every colour has been carefully considered. Matisse moved them like pieces of a puzzle, seeking perfect balance. In The Codomas (1947), the blue and green shapes seem to dance on the white background, creating an impression of movement and lightness. These works prove that colour, even reduced to its essence, retains its emotional power.
This technique has inspired generations of artists and designers. Today, Matisse’s cut-out patterns appear in textile design, wallpaper, even architecture. They remind us that joy can arise from simplicity, provided each element is chosen with care and love.
07The legacy of a colour magician
More than half a century after his death, Matisse’s influence is everywhere. In interiors where walls are painted in vivid colours, in fabrics with bold patterns, in the works of contemporary artists who still dare to defy conventions. His approach to colour has changed the way we see the world—and how we decorate it.
What makes his work timeless is his ability to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. A simple still life with goldfish becomes a celebration of life, a modest interior is transformed into a palace of colours. Matisse taught us that beauty is not in perfection but in the harmony of contrasts.
So, the next time you hesitate to paint a wall bright yellow or choose a red sofa, remember Matisse’s words: "Colour was a liberation for me." What if true joy lay precisely in that freedom—to create, to experiment, to live surrounded by colours that reflect who we are? After all, as he himself said, "Colour contributes to happiness." The game is yours to play.