From the moment it was first exhibited in 1882 at the Salon de Paris – once the greatest art event in the world – Edouard Manet’s last major work, A Bar At The Folies-Bergere, has caused a stir.
The landscape was huge, at 3ft and over 4ft respectively. It also had a lot of questions.
Why is the barmaid looking so miserable despite being perfectly dressed? What is the identity of that mysterious man seen in the mirror, and why does he look so bored?
What is the point of such an amazing artist getting his perspective wrong? Why is it that a French Impressionist has included two bottles British pale ale on this Parisian top?
‘Books and books have been written about this painting and what Manet was trying to communicate,’ says Ernst Vegelin, director of the Courtauld Gallery in London, where the masterpiece is a prize exhibit.

Édouard Manet’s A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, first exhibited in 1882, is the star attraction at the redeveloped Courtauld Gallery in London

Maerit Rausing, Director of Courtauld Gallery and Dr Ernst Vegelin van Claerbergen (left), pose before Edouard Manet’s final major painting.
‘It never ceases to enthral and weave its spell.’
Or attract thousands of visitors from around the world to gaze at it and ponder its mysteries, as no doubt will happen once again as the gallery finally reopens today after a three-year, £50 million top-to-bottom redevelopment, including a lead donation from the Blavatnik family.
The work was delayed due to both the pandemic as well as the inconvenient discovery in the basement of a medieval cesspit.
But initial reviews suggest it was clearly worth the wait: the Courtauld has been transformed by the award-winning firm of architects, Witherford Watson Mann, from a poky, oft-forgotten gallery into one of the capital’s most spectacular artistic havens.
Alongside the Cezannes, Van Goghs, Gauguins, Renoirs and Monets, there are dazzling new commissions and donations — including a new collection of Kandinsky’s drawings.
But Manet’s work, completed even as he was dying from syphilis, is still the main attraction in the gallery’s dramatic Great Room.

After a major renovation, the Courtauld Gallery will reopen to the public in London on Friday.

An employee of the gallery poses with the artwork at Folies-Bergere.
‘It is the great icon amongst the many icons of the collection,’ says Vegelin.
‘We wanted to preserve the moment of surprise, so it’s not the first thing that you see, but it emerges on the left in a moment of, I hope, astonishment and delight.’
It will no doubt spark afresh all the questions surrounding the painting’s rich complexity. We attempt to unravel some of the painting’s secrets.
Folies was an extremely risky business
Built as an opera house in the newly-modernised 9th Arrondissement of Paris and opened in 1869, the Folies-Bergere signified everything modern and risqué about Parisian society in the late 19th century.
A venue for anything and everything — from operettas, gymnastics, trapeze acts and naked revues — and enjoyed by the great and good, and everyone in between.
Manet loved it, spent many hours intoxicated there with other musicians and artists, as well as writers.
He was aware that he was about to die and the painting was his last farewell to not only the Folies but also to the decadent world he loved.
What is it about her that makes her look so bored?
Suzon, the model that posed for Manet was actually a barmaid who he probably met at this exact bar.
The tired-looking, unknowable woman that he painted was not real. Her blank expression and inability to understand her face stared back at him with more than any hint of aggression.
Does she feel bored by her job and all the hustle of Parisian cabaret-goers?

In addition to Manet’s most recent major work, the gallery has artworks by Renoir and Van Gogh.
Maybe she simply felt exhausted after another long night serving customers.
Some art critics interpret her demeanour differently: this is a woman who is emotionally detached, numbed even — thanks to some of her more demanding patrons to whom she might be required to offer more than just liquid refreshment.
Clues was a barmaid and a prostitute.
In late 19th-century art, it was unusual for a barmaid to be the focal point of such an important work.
Kelly Grovier is an art historian and writer who points out many clues to Manet’s accomplishments.
The crystal bowl is made up of sweet mandarins. Sex workers often signalled themselves by working as ‘orange sellers’ at theatres in Elizabethan England.
The barmaid’s position, between bottles of Champagne, peppermint liquor, and the red triangle corsage that she carries at her breast, suggests that, like the logo for the Bass pale ale, the barmaid is also commodified.
First product placement
Ah, yes, those Bass pale ale bottles — their logos on display — may represent one of the earliest examples of ‘product placement’, long before James Bond’s Aston Martins and Land Rovers, and the endless shots of Carrie Bradshaw’s Apple laptop in Sex And The City.
Did Manet include this particular brand — brewed in Burton upon Trent and Britain’s first ever trademarked product — to show just how international and modern his favourite bar was? He also included in his bar two orbs resembling electric lighting that were reflected in the mirror.
The beers featured British beers and not German beers, as the French still felt too soft a decade following the Franco-Prussian War to accept German beer with the same gusto.

Courtauld Bag from Mosul, Iraq. It is approximately 1300.

Vincent Van Gogh Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear The Courtauld Gallery is reopening following a three-year renovation project
Why so many triangles?
While most of us wouldn’t even notice, much has been made of the plethora of triangles in the painting.
These are easily spotted if you keep your eyes open.
Not just those beer logos and the barmaid’s corsage, but in the hem of her coat, the shape carved out by her hands on the marble bar, in the vase of flowers, the upturned triangles of the chandeliers reflected in the mirror, the triangular belly of the green bottle of absinthe in front of her — and even the space created by a lady in yellow gloves who is reflected in the mirror.
All, some experts insist, deliberate and linking back to the Bass logo — all about commodification and modernity.
What’s with the wonky viewpoint?
Too much can seem wrong at first glance. In fact, the closer you peer, the more ‘spatial dislocations’ appear, as the Courtauld director Ernst Vegelin explains.
The tired-looking barmaid — leaning on the marble counter and isolated in the dead centre — is too big and dominant.
Her reflection in the giant gold-edged mirror behind, chatting to an allusive top-hatted gentleman (which may be Manet’s self-portrait) is not angled correctly.

Over 34,000 pieces span the Medieval to 20th Century period at the Courtauld Collection. It is well-known for its Impressionist, Post-Impressionist and other masterpieces.

A depiction of the Trinity, with Saints Mary Magdalene and John The Baptist. An alterpiece created by Sandro Botticelli that is believed to date back around 1492
Some of the bottles she left appears to be in an incorrect place in the reflection.
Manet was not making a mistake. He knew exactly what he was doing, as evidenced by X-rays, which reveal the painting went through substantial alterations, during which he unfolded his barmaid’s arms, moved her more centrally and deliberately skewed the perspective.
It begs the question, why? Quite possibly to represent the chaotic ‘modern’ world of the late 19th century, where everything could not always be reconciled, or make sense.
The artist’s brush with sex disease
Manet, then 50, was suffering from partial paralysis in his legs as a result of complications of syphilis.
Initial sketches were drawn at Folies. However, he built a replica bar in his studio. Barmaid Suzon was able to pose for him there and he began painting her slowly. This could also explain her bored expression.

Trinity, with Saints Mary Magdalene and John the Baptist. The Courtauld has been transformed by the award-winning firm of architects, Witherford Watson Mann, from a poky, oft-forgotten gallery into one of the capital’s most spectacular artistic havens
Is this manet worth the money?
For years, the painting hung above the piano of composer Emmanuel Chabrier, a close friend of Manet’s who collected 14 of his artworks and, in return, dedicated a sonata to Manet’s wife, Suzanne.
After changing hands several times, Samuel Courtauld, the English industrialist, art collector and founder of the Courtauld Institute, bought it in 1926 for £22,600 (equivalent to more than £1.4million today), the most he ever paid for a painting.
What is this worth?
‘You can’t [value it]!’, Vegelin tells me. ‘It is absolutely priceless. Pictures like this just aren’t available.’
It’s not a good idea to purchase, But of course, from today, anyone can again go and see Manet’s masterpiece — and decide for themselves what secret messages it holds.
- The Courtauld Gallery has reopened today. You can book tickets at courtauld.ac.uk/gallery