The view of the Seine was familiar to Vlaminck. All his youth he lived on the banks of the river in Chatou near Paris. He captured the Seine many times in his landscape works.

Maurice de Vlaminck was born on April 4, 1876 in Paris into a family of musicians - a violinist who came from Flanders and a pianist who was born in Lorraine. In 1878 he moved with his parents to the town of Le Vezine (Ile-de-France). Le Vezinet is located 15 km west of Paris, in a bend of the Seine River. Maurice studied violin under the guidance of his father, a musician-teacher. He was involved in cycling.

From the age of 17, Vlaminck began regular painting classes in the workshop of local artist Henri Rigalon located on the island of Chatou [6]).

The turning point in Vlaminck’s biography was a chance acquaintance with Andre Derain on a suburban Parisian train. Soon after retiring from military service, Vlaminck rented a studio together with Derain in Chatou, next to the house of Alphonse Fournes. The restaurant of this house hosted meetings of Claude Monet, Alfred Sisley, Edgar Degas and Auguste Renoir 30 years earlier.

The friendly relationship between Vlaminck and Derain lasted a lifetime, however, with a 15-year pause, which ended with reconciliation in 1942. Maurice de Vlaminck described the circumstances of their acquaintance in a text published on the occasion of the opening of an exhibition at the Bing Gallery in Paris (March 1947):

In July 1900, while on 15 days' leave from military service, I took the Chatou-Paris train. In the compartment I found myself face to face with Andre Derain. We had never crossed paths before, and knew each other only by appearance. Derain was present at the bicycle races in which I participated. More than once he could see me with a violin or a box of paints under my arm.

At that time Derain was only twenty years old. He was a tall, long-legged guy in a coat and a soft hat, vaguely reminiscent of someone like François Villon. I exclaimed, looking into his face with inexplicable anger: “Soon it will be your turn to put on your boots!” “Only next year,” he answered, a little stunned. That evening we met on the platform and resumed our conversation. As a result, we decided to work together. <…> From the windows of our workshop we could see the town of Shatu, the barges moored at the shore, the spire of the church, horses, and gardeners who crossed the bridge to deliver carrots and turnips. For us it was the “Chatou school”, which gave us the first impulses of the movement, which later became known as Fauvism. Fauvism was not an invention, but a special attitude, a way of being. A special way of acting, thinking, breathing. Often, when Derain came on vacation, we went out early in the morning in search of a motif along the Seine. We walked twenty to thirty kilometers, and our enthusiasm was unsurpassed.[7]