A Pink Edge of a Wood – Recasting a Classic in Time and Colour

At first glance, the scene seems familiar: a painter at the edge of a wood, dappled light, a reclining figure, and an open air of Impressionist contemplation. But look again. The painter’s jacket is too modern, the model in the grass is not Suzanne Leenhoff but Marilyn Monroe, and the woods are not those of Giverny but the beech groves of Torup, Skåne.

This is no simple pastiche. It is a dialogue across centuries—a reframing of John Singer Sargent’s sketch of Claude Monet, filtered through the haze of absinthe, memory, and myth. Here, the scene transforms into a self-portrait, a surreal reimagining of artistic kinship, where icons like Monet, Manet, and Monroe coexist in a realm where time folds and the rules of reality bend gently around the brush.

As pink elephants appear among the trees and absinthe glows beside the palette, one might wonder: Is this hallucination, homage, or humorous heresy? Perhaps it is all of these. In this rendering, art is not just observed but inhabited—and Marilyn, ever the misunderstood muse, finds herself not objectified but included as a conscious figure in the painter’s world. Not simply painted, but present.

Please learn more about Absinth’s power and how it connects us to a global narrative of timeless painting.

“Absinthe in the Beechwood

In Torup’s grove where shadows play,
The artist drank at the close of day.
A glass of green, a spoon, a drip—
A sugar cube, a trembling lip.

The trees leaned in with rustling grace,
As absinthe licked the painter’s face.
The world began to twist and bloom,
And beechwood whispered hints of doom.

From silver mist and mossy light,
A creature charged in rose and white.
It trumpeted with silky might—
A pink-hued beast, surreal in flight.

Its ears were wide, its tail a swish,
Its eyes held thoughts no man would wish.
"Behold!" cried he, "my muse, divine!
A forest-elephant—it's mine!"

But as the fog began to clear,
And reason tiptoed, pale with fear,
The tusks fell back, the trunk grew thin—
And wagged a tail beneath the chin.

The painter blinked, then sighed, then laughed:
Not myth, but poodle, shaved and daft.
Still pink, still proud, it struck a pose—
No less absurd, but twice as close.”
Malmö 24 April 2025

A pink edge of a Wood
The image depicts Claude Monet painting by the edge of a wood—it is recognisable yet not quite the same. The clothing is too modern, and the woman in the grass is different. Moreover, unlike before, it is a self-portrait painted by a good friend. The forest is also different—this time it is the beech forest at Torup in Skåne in southern Sweden.

Which of the two images is better is a matter of taste. Both have merits, but Monet’s version feels more complete and resolved as an image than his friend Sargent’s sketchy interpretation.

John Singer Sargent, renowned for presenting his sketches of friends and fellow artists as gifts, made a unique exception with his sketch of Claude Monet (1840–1926). This sketch, a profound symbol of Sargent's deep admiration for Monet, remained with Sargent throughout his life. It was in his studio when he passed away, along with several works by Monet that Sargent had collected.

Sargent's admiration for Monet was profound. He first met Monet in 1876, but the two artists became closest ten years later. It was probably in 1885 that they painted together at Giverny, near Paris. Sargent admired how Monet worked outdoors and imitated some of his subjects and methods in these sketches. It is characteristic of Sargent to give a human view of Monet's practice and the patience of his wife, who sits behind him. When he settled in London in 1885, Sargent was initially viewed as avant-garde, but he became the greatest society portraitist of his day.

The portrait of Monet, depicted in his element, painting a landscape outdoors, holds a significant place in the history of Impressionism. It illustrates the French artist doing what he advocated: painting directly from nature. However, its true value lies in its significance for Sargent, who deeply admired Monet. The portrait serves as a silent yet powerful commemoration of their artistic relationship, a bond that transcends the limitations of language.

What happened the day Sargent painted Monet?
One summer’s day towards the end of the 1880s, Claude Monet sat painting at the edge of a wood near his home in Giverny. Although eager American students were already besieging him, Monet remained oblivious to the fact that, on this occasion, his activities were being observed. As he quietly painted, John Singer Sargent, the most important portraitist of his generation, made the impressionist painter the subject of his quick sketch, marking a significant moment in their artistic exchange.

Sargent was no simple student, as Kenneth McConkey makes clear in our book British Impressionism. The American painter was already the most essential portraitist of his generation, one whose era-defining paintings captured the Gilded Age's heiresses, statesmen, and industrialists. Yet the artist, sometimes regarded as a traditionalist, recognised an element in Impressionism that was absent in his art.

Sargent first met Monet in 1876, and during the 1880s, the American artist painted a formal portrait of the French artist and acquired several of his works. While Sargent did not wholly devote himself to the burgeoning French style, he had already created several masterpieces, such as Portrait of Madame X. Nevertheless, his livelier outdoor paintings aspired to embody some of the Impressionistic qualities of his French counterparts.

In particular, Sargent focused on the French painter's use of colour, painting objects in a medley of hues instead of with distinct, chromatic divisions. Monet's friend Édouard Manet pioneered this technique, and Sargent took note. Consider the American's famous Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (1885-6). There’s no denying the work’s prettiness; yet, as the critic Roger Fry wrote, “what thrilled us all then was the fact that this picture was the first feeble echo which came across the channel of what Manet and his friends had been doing with a far different intensity for 10 years or more.”

Indeed, Monet later stated that Sargent was reluctant to overcome certain conventions. “I gave him my colours, and he wanted black,” the artist recalled, “and I told him, ‘but I haven’t any,’ ‘then I can’t paint’ he cried, ‘how do you do it?’”

If he could not take direct instruction from Monet, perhaps this later, surreptitious pastiche of the artist’s work marks a breakthrough for Sargent. As McConkey writes in our book, Monet’s ‘comma’ brushstrokes are present in the lively foliage of Sargent’s Monet painting. Meanwhile, Sargent’s subsequent works, such as A Gust of Wind, display a limpid, free-flowing style distinct from his formal portraits.

At the foot of the easel stands an ice bucket filled with absinthe, the treacherous favourite spirit of the late nineteenth century. On the palette rests a glass, complete with the peculiar spoon used to strain the liquor through a sugar cube. The appearance of a pink elephant among the trees in the painting is a nod to Manet's work, as he often incorporated unexpected elements in his paintings. This may be because Manet had already consumed a few glasses of the potent drink, which was known for inducing hallucinations.

The woman in the grass is not Manet’s wife, Suzanne Leenhoff, but Marilyn Monroe, whom the artist came to know among the stars. In eternity, it is not only the communion of souls that applies—and since women there cannot become pregnant, one might say that a certain promiscuity prevailed. Manet and Marilyn also shared a common interest in art, which is an excuse for her being depicted in the painting.

Though remembered by many for her glamour and screen presence, Marilyn Monroe held a quiet, sincere reverence for art, not just as performance but as visual expression. Beneath the platinum hair and playful smile was a woman who wandered museums, read voraciously, and paused to study brushstrokes and shadows, a side of her that might surprise many. Her love for art was a passing interest and a deep and abiding passion.

During her time in New York, away from the glare of Hollywood, Marilyn immersed herself in a more introspective world. She attended classes at the Actors Studio, spent time with writers, intellectuals, and artists, and cultivated a love for painting and sculpture, a passion many can relate to and appreciate. She admired Rodin, van Gogh, and Goya, and reportedly owned a piece by Foujita, the Franco-Japanese painter known for his delicate, dreamlike scenes.

Her library, discovered after her death, contained over 400 books, including volumes on art history, philosophy, and the lives of artists. It painted a portrait of a woman who longed to understand the beauty and pain of the world beyond the camera's lens, a longing that many can empathise with.

There are also surviving sketches and poems by her hand, raw, expressive, and searching. These fragments hint at a woman who didn’t just pose for portraits but saw them, felt them, and perhaps even longed to step inside them.

For Marilyn, art was neither a luxury nor a role. It was a refuge, a mirror, and a language for what could not be said on set.

In the quiet spaces between flashbulbs and film reels, Marilyn Monroe was, in her way, an artist.

Absinthe is an anise-flavoured spirit derived from several plants, including the flowers and leaves of Artemisia absinthium ("grand wormwood"), green anise, sweet fennel, and various medicinal and culinary herbs. Historically regarded as a highly alcoholic spirit, it possesses an ABV of 45–74%. Traditionally, absinthe has a natural green colour but can also be colourless. It is commonly called ‘la fée verte’ (the green fairy) in historical literature. While sometimes casually termed a liqueur, absinthe is not typically bottled with sugar or sweeteners. Usually, absinthe is bottled at a high alcohol level by volume but is diluted with water before consumption.

The Absinthe Drinker (French: Le Buveur d'absinthe) is an early painting by Édouard Manet, executed around 1859. It is considered his first major painting and original work.

After completing the painting, Manet showed it to his former master. When asked for his opinion, Couture is said to have retorted: "An absinthe drinker! And they paint abominations like that! My poor friend, you are the absinthe drinker. It is you who have lost your moral sense."