In his paintings of Paris, Edouard Cortes captured a magic that has universal fascination. His paintings sing of the beauties, the intriguing out-of-the-way corners, nostalgic life of this queen of cities so glowingly, so arrestingly and so magnetically Cortes might well be called “The Poet of Paris in Oil.”
The flower markets, the quaint boutiques, the sidewalk cafés, all enter into his brilliant, jewel-like compositions against the background of the great monuments of Paris, known and revered the world over. When questioned as to why so much of his work was devoted to scenes of Paris, Cortes replied, “Because I adore Paris, and because wherever one turns there is something to put on canvas.”
The pulse of Cortes’ painting is difficult to capture in words. The glow of dim street lights casting reflections on the pavements; shadowy, yet colorful, shapes dimly seen through rain and mist; brilliant dashes of color pinpointed against mellow grays of foggy streets; shafts of sparkling sunlight intensifying the color of shadowed city by-ways – all are a part of the magic which is Edouard Cortes, and yet none are completely the source of his unquestionable hypnotic power.