Author
Gustave Caillebotte
Movement / period
Impressionism
Technique
oil on canvas
Where it is
Art Institute of Chicago
Caillebotte was wealthy and financially supported his fellow Impressionists, buying their work.

Highlights
Facts & legends
- The lamppost in the centre splits the painting exactly in half — a device borrowed from photography.
- Caillebotte was wealthy and financially supported his fellow Impressionists, buying their work.
- His collection later helped form the Impressionist holdings of the Musée d'Orsay.
- The huge size (almost 2×3 m) is unusual for an everyday street scene.
- The steep perspective of the boulevard shows Baron Haussmann's new Paris.
More details Why critics complained that a rainy-day painting showed no rain, how Caillebotte engineered a seemingly accidental street view, and what conservators uncovered with thousands of cotton swabs.
Paris had only recently been rebuilt
The picture records the city after Haussmann
Caillebotte chose the broad junction near today's Place de Dublin, where new streets met in north-west Paris. Uniform façades and open boulevards had replaced much of the older urban fabric.
Living nearby, he treated the district as lived experience rather than a postcard. Monumental scale turns a daily walk into a portrait of a city that is spacious yet socially detached.
The canvas measures 212.2 by 276.2 centimetres. In the gallery the street becomes almost a wall, while the foreground pedestrians approach human scale. The junction remains recognisable today, but in 1877 many of its roads were new. Caillebotte records a recently manufactured environment in which bourgeois clothes, gas lamp, and uniform stone façades act as forcefully as the people.
Accident is carefully engineered
A lamppost divides the view and bodies are cut by the frame
The foreground couple seems about to collide with us; a man enters from the right only in part; umbrellas hide faces. The effect resembles a snapshot, although every street angle and interval is calculated.
The Art Institute calls the result real and contrived, casual and choreographed. Caillebotte creates modern life through architectural control rather than a visibly rapid brushstroke.
The main perspective focus lies roughly behind the lamppost, whose dark upright cuts the nearby couple away from the open square at left. The man on the right is cropped so abruptly that he seems to continue beyond the frame. For a large nineteenth-century exhibition picture this was audacious: instead of offering a complete stage, Caillebotte makes the viewer another pedestrian who may need to dodge an approaching umbrella.
Optics may have helped
Researchers tested a camera-lucida hypothesis
A preparatory drawing contains loose initial lines followed by firm ruled ones. Its accuracy suggested that Caillebotte may first have used a camera lucida, an optical device that visually superimposes subject and paper.
Tiny indentations revealed another stage: measurements helped enlarge and transfer the design to the huge canvas. The spontaneous view was built through a disciplined process.
Technical study showed that the artist did more than enlarge a finished drawing on a grid. The sheet preserves numerical notes, revised horizon lines, and indentations left by a measuring tool such as dividers. In the oil sketch the lone man at right was a late addition: architectural paint continues beneath his thinner layer. The famous accident was built gradually as Caillebotte shifted edges, figures, and vanishing points until the street felt both credible and uneasy.
Critics could not find the rain
In 1877 umbrellas seemed more visible than weather
At the third Impressionist exhibition reviewers both praised and mocked the work. Some complained that rain was absent, umbrellas too numerous, the lamppost overbearing, and paving stones excessively exact.
Yet weather inhabits behaviour rather than spectacle: cobbles shine, grey light flattens colour, and pedestrians keep apart beneath their umbrellas. Rain reorganises the city without becoming a theatrical downpour.
Caillebotte showed six paintings and helped fund, organise, promote, and install the third Impressionist exhibition. His nearly three-metre-wide street challenged the expectation that new painting should be small, rapid, and optically blurred. A modern subject receives the scale of academic history painting, but its protagonists are strangers who pass without connection. That tension explains the mixed response: the control was unmistakable, while its social chill felt unfamiliar.
Conservation restored the light
Thousands of swabs removed yellowed varnish
After the 2012–13 exhibition, hundreds of hours of cleaning revealed subtler sky, shimmering highlights, and the foreground woman's brilliant earring.
Caillebotte was also organiser, funder, lender, and youngest active member of the 1877 show. His painting became its star and remains an icon of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Before treatment, aged warm varnish made the scene browner and compressed its many greys. Removing it separated cool air, bluish openings, and wet highlights once again. The ownership path is unusually direct: after Caillebotte's death the painting stayed with his brother Martial and descendants, was bought by Walter P. Chrysler Jr. in 1954, and entered the Art Institute in 1964. Much of the artist's later recognition grew around that museum encounter.


