An acute observer of the urban underbelly, Edward Burra was an artist who was drawn to the intrigues, energy and excit.mes nt that existed on the edges of proper society. Minuit Chanson (midnight song), a record shop just down the boulevard from the iconic Moulin Rouge, was a venue replete with the sights and sounds that so excited Burra: the records on offer (jazz, blues and big-band so popular in France at the t.mes ), the stark bright glare of the electric bulbs, the graphic, colourful advertisements, and perhaps most of all, the strange mix of wonderfully bedazzled clientele who could only be found in Paris.

Raised in the small rural town of Rye in Sussex, Burra had decided on becoming an artist early in his life. Supported in his artistic endeavors by his family, it was understood that Burra must travel to France at some point. Prior to the First World War, Paris was the centre of the avant-garde art world, with Post-Impressionists such as Cézanne and Matisse proving a huge draw for British artists, and this pull continued after the war for anyone interested in the new and the modern. Burra learned French at an early age, and was fluent by the t.mes he was an adult.

Burra first traveled to Paris in 1925, interested in the Surrealists such as André Breton and Paul Éluard, whom he had been introduced to through his friendship with the British artist Paul Nash. It was, however, the energy and vibrancy of the city which Burra found so appealing, and which drew him back many t.mes s over the years. Paris in the 1920s and early 1930s was experiencing a period of post-war recovery, and there was an embrace of all things pleasurable and joyful, which had for so long been missing. Burra was attracted to the unadulterated exuberance that was on offer- consuming with alacrity the French films and fashion, frequenting bars, dance halls and nightclubs around Montparnasse and along the Rue de Lappe, and enjoying in particular the performers at the Folies-Bergere, including the legendary Josephine Baker.

While Burra was himself unable to dance and partake, having been plagued with illness and arthritis from the t.mes he was a child, he was a voracious spectator, drinking in the sights and sounds. In Minuit Chanson Burra’s shrewd observational skills and acute visual memory are on full display, as he revels in every detail.

Patrons of the record shop are decked out in gaudy splendor, with their sparkling rings, elaborate hats, high-heels and opulent fur ruffs. Burra takes particular witty pleasure in depicting in macabre detail the mask-like face of the animal which gave its life for high-fashion. Eyes are rimmed with charcoal, lips painted ruby red. Not to be outdone - the mens’ suits, shirts and ties are a buffet of colours, textures and patterns. A lover of popular culture, Burra was clearly thrilled by the display cases on offer, including the advertisement for the song Prenez Mon Coeur (take my heart), perhaps a reference to the big band tune first released by Fernand Bonifay in 1931. Burra plays with both real and imagined realities: a ballerina twirls on a record player next to an oddly monstrous furry character smiling ghoulishly; the miniature figurines of men in tuxedos wink and flirt with the sparkling flappers in feathered headdresses, as animated as the life size cust.mes rs before them.

Burra’s observations are often grounded in satire, and he loved to highlight the absurdities of human interaction. The Minuit Chanson was clearly a place not just for listening to the newest offerings from the studios, but a place to see and be seen. The peacocking patrons smoke, gesture and pose, but no one meets each other’s eye, no one lets on that they are simultaneously admiring and wanting to be admired. The patrons themselves are as characterful as the stars in the advertisements, from the James Joyce look alike with his bottle glasses, to the sailors, gangsters and prostitutes old and young, all displaying a practiced obliviousness.

Paris was a particular draw for Burra in part because of its embrace of black culture in the 1920s, as it saw an influx of creative African Americans who found Paris an appealing escape from the segregation and Jim Crow laws of America. Burra was greatly interested in black culture, rooted in his early love of jazz and in his admiration for the black dancers he saw in London in the 1920s. He would later visit America in 1933, two years after the present work was painted, drawn to the energy of the Harlem Renaissance and subsequently produced some of his most.mes morable works such as Harlem (1934, Tate collects ion, London) and Striptease, Harlem (1934, sold in these rooms, November 2014).

The present work comes from the collects ion of Barbara Ker-Seymer, one of Burra’s greatest lifelong friends whom he met at the Chelsea College of Art in the 1920s. The group of friends Burra formed while at art school would sustain him throughout his life, and included, along with Barbara, Clover Pritchard, and the dancer William ‘ Billy’ Chapel. The group was drawn together by their love of popular culture, particularly the cinema, as well as their sense of mischief, love of fun and playfulness. They would often accompany Burra on his travels, and when apart wrote extensively to one another - a selection of these correspondence were compiled in the anthology Well Dearie!, edited by Chappell in 1985. Ker-Seymer would go on to become an established photographer, having learnt the art from society photographer Olivia Wyndham, and established her own studio in London above Asprey jewellers in 1931. Minuit Chanson, one of Burra’s finest works, was gifted to Barbara by the artist in the 1930s, a test.mes nt to their enduring friendship.