Lorado Taft's critique of modern french sculpture

[mountshang]

I guess I'm on a Lorado Taft kick now -- as I just read his critique of modern French sculpture (c. 1917) in "Modern tendencies in Sculpture" -- and I think it would be so interesting to scan the entire 10 pages -- dig up better reproductions of all the illustratrations that he provided -- and examine his critiques one-at-a-time.

Anyone else interested in such a project ?


For example his favorite contemporary was one Henri Bouchard -- of whom, I confess -- I'd never heard -- and now having found a book of plates -- I am puzzled by his enthusiasm.

Taft, on the other hand, seems puzzled by the moderns that I like the most: Maillol and Despiau. He can't stand the artworld hype -- but at least he's not as hostile as he is towards Gautier-Breszka and Matisse.

While he's very positive towards someone else that I also like: Paul Landowski.

His response to Rodin is interesting as well. He admires the early work -- but gets off the train as Rodin becomes a wanton super-star --- and I tend to agree -- as well as his chagrin at the deterioration of Camille Claudel's work (whom he met !)

It's all very interesting -- and I can't imagine anyone alive giving a better lecture on this subject (even if I frequently disagree)

[ajoysisk]

I'm reading. Are you able to post one of these critiques here for those of us without current library access?

[mountshang]

I'll be getting a copy next week -- which I'll scan -- and begin to search for the relevant pictures from other books. It might take a few weeks.

[mountshang]

Here are the first pages of Lorado Taft's survey of "RECENT FRENCH SCULPTURE" (published in 1920)

The primary value for me has been the listing of all the pieces and sculptors that were important back then -- but are often neglected today.

But I'm also intrigued by his judgements -- and his predicament.

I think he knows that his world of sculpture is on the way out of academic/intellectual fashion --- so right away he begins his attack on the "infantile" or "imbecilic" work of the avant garde. Later on -- he will introduce us to his favorite contemporaries --- but I don't think he's ever written about his real heroes -- the ones whom he here defends against the withering accusation of "insipid, affected, inanimate prettiness". He also touches on the previous giants of the French 19th C.: Rude and Carpeaux --- but what happened to Barye ?


Anyway -- here's the text. (I've had a hard time keeping pictures posted on this site -- so I've also presented the text -- with pictures -- here on my blog:



http://mountshang.blogspot.com/2006/09/modern-tendencies-in-sculpture.html


.................................................. .................................................. ..........................



The subject of our last causerie was Auguste Rodin. "Rodin and His Influence" had been the intended theme, but it soon.developed that there was so much to be said about Rodin and his work that the influence had to be left for another day. It will form a part of the inquiry of this chapter, as indeed it must run through all of these papers excepting the one devoted to Saint- Gaudens; I cannot find that the art of our great American sculptor was touched in the slightest degree by that of the French master.
Of course M. Rodin's independent and very personal point of view has not been the only influence at work during these later years. Whatever the immediate trend of French sculpture, the dominant fact is the momentum of an age-long tradition. This tradition had, become in great measure academic; but, as Brownell wrote of the French school of twenty-five years ago, "It is a thoroughly legitimate and unaffected expression of national thought and feeling at the present time, at once splendid and simple."
Every now and then through the years the current has been shaken and then reinforced by some powerful influence-" an angel has troubled the waters." In the the first half of the nineteenth century it was the towering " personality of Rude; a little later it was Carpeaux then Dalou; then Rodin. The part that each of these men has played is clearly marked, although not yet complete. The stream of sculpture is tinged ever after by their contribution as distinctly as the Mississippi is colored from St. Louis onward by the waters of the Missouri.
To appreciate what Rodin did to it one must have a definite idea of what it was before. A few minutes of retrospect will be valuable. What has been the trend of sculpture in France? What the impress of these great
artists upon its course? To go back no farther than the memory of men still alive, there is always the heroic figure of Rude beckoning to high achievement through his triumphant work on the Arc de Triomphe, "The Song of Departure."
Of this great relief it has been eloquently said:
"No one can have any appreciation of what sculpture is "Without perceiving that this magnificent group easily and serenely takes its rank among the masterpieces of sculpture of all time. It is, in the' first place, the incarnation of an abstraction, the spirit of patriotism aroused to the highest pitch of warlike intensity and self-sacrifice, and in the second this abstract motive is expressed in the most elaborate and comprehensive completeness with a combined intricacy of detail and singleness of effect which must be the despair of any but a master in Sculpture."
The Departure" has become a classic, but it is too exalted, too exceptional, to influence deeply the everyday output of Parisian studios. The graceful "Neapolitan Fisher Boy" and even the vehement "Marshal Ney"
have been more obviously potent. Rude's immediate spiritual heritor was: his pupil) Carpeaux, whose feverish temperament drove him to an eternal quest of life and movement. With alluring charm and incredible skill he pushed his art to what seemed at the time absolute realism. In principle wrong, the manifestation was so seductive that against their better judgment the critics
were silenced. At least, no one heeded thejr criticisms. In the face of these irresistible works they but wasted their ink and paper. Carpeaux left us treasures of passionate expression; it was the little, cold-blooded would-be Carpeaux's of a second generation who have torn Parisian monumental art to shreds. One of Rodin's fervid biographers tells us that the master's "immediate forerunners recognized only one form of beauty, an insipid, affected, inanimate prettiness of which the renowned Bouguereau was the last successful representative in pictorial art." This characterization might have applied to much of the sculpture of a hundred years ago but hardly to that of the second half of the nineteenth century. You may judge whether such terms describe the art of Carpeaux. Let us turn to a few more of the immediate forerunners of the master that we may" see how " insipid, affected, and inanimate" they are.
Look upon Paul Dubois' "Charity" an achievement which even the wizardry of Rodin does not put in the shade. View his "Military Courage" and the exquisitely tender figure of" Faith." Consider the vivid and truly sculptural conception of " Joan of Arc" by Chapu. Study "The First Funeral" by Barrias) once recognized as the masterpiece of modern .French sculpture. What of inanimate prettiness does one find in Saint Marceaux' "Genius of Death"? Other favorites of forty years ago were the rugged "Age of Iron" by Lanson, Aube's dramatic "Dante," and the sternly simple "Ancestor" by Massoule. Mercie's "Gloria Victis" holds secure sway amid remembered enthusiasms, while one noble female form seems to float above them all-the radiant "Aurora" of Delaplanche.

You can imagine the emotions of a wistful artist returning to the scene of these early loves to find them replaced by strange gods like this foolish caricature of a woman (Fig. 51). It is a work by the notorious painter, Matisse. You see he is quite as good a sculptor as he is painter! They tell us no female is so queer that she cannot find a companion, if she tries; it is gratifying to, observe that Matisse's ideal has an affinity (Fig. 53). No, a second look discovers that they are both of the same kind. Unfortunately these nondescripts do love and propagate; here is a chaste "Kiss" by Brancusi,
(Fig. 62); and here is "Family Life" by Archipenko (Fig. 61). Brancusi was the author of the far-famed "Mile Pogany" (Fig. 59), which, we are assured, is "not a servile reproduction of features," but an interpretation of the soul. Perhaps its companion (Fig. 60) is Miss Pogany's sister's soul, although, it has been called "The Mislaid Egg."
For mischief or through sheer imbecility many unsuccessful sculptors turned to this form of prostitution. One of these deluded youths was Gaudier-Brzeska, who was later killed in the trenches. An American poet wrote a eulogistic book about him and gravely presents his infantile products for our respectful consideration (figs. 55-58). We are unsmilingly assured that such objects show forth "the fundamental verities"; that "representation" is naive and childish, but that these geometrical forms are "the expression of a pure idea-the expression of the absolute."

Gaudier's "Seated Figure" (Fig. 55) recalls the impassioned description of a similar amorphous mass, words written by a hypnotized votary: "There is a swell of volume in all directions and which to a sensitive and patient attention produces a sense of freedom and a sense of power that comes out from within." No doubt a little patient and sensitive attention, would likewise discover "a flat submerged plasticity" of incalculable value. Another sentence from the same authority is so wonderful that it insists upon use as a high light in this drab essay of mine: "The whole is like a growth of nature and like within a single sweep of tight contours which enclose the greatest possible plasticity within the smallest compass." In the presence of such mysteries of thought and diction one can but bow and reverently withdraw.



Footnote:
* The men who produced these last mentioned curiosities are presumably aliens in France, but their so-called art was incubated and brought forth in Paris througb the hospitality of a public which is ever seeking "some new thing." The information obtainable in regard to their shadowy personalities is so slight and so contradictory that some have been tempted to believe them fictitious-a syndicate, or possibly a "Mr, Hyde" manifestation of some perfectly reputable artist. What sculptor has not cherished for a moment the wild wish to exhibit, under a pseudonym, the startling abortions or easily sketched grotesques which appear and disappear in the daily routine of the studio?

[ajoysisk]

Ohhhh....we're going to have an art history lecture soon that can fuel some feedback to this...a little cut and paste action ensuing now so I can read this all...

[fused]

I'm looking forward to wading through all of these thoughts.

mountshang, I visited the High Museum in Atlanta back in July and their large collection of carved figurative sculpture made me think of you.

[fritchie]

Mountshang - I'd like to vote for this project of yours, and though I know it's a huge amount of work, I can't promise I'll get at all of it. I do think, though, that it will be an asset for the Community, and MANY THANKS!

[mountshang]

Back by popular demand !

Here is more text taken from Lorado Taft's "Modern Tendencies In Sculpture". In the last episode, he castigated the avant garde( Matisse, Brancusi, Gaudier-Brzeska) -- and now he applies his whip to the decadent academy (and poor Camille Claudel) :

(text including pictures is here: http://mountshang.blogspot.com/2006/10/modern-french-sculpture-part-2.html )


Thus in place of a self-respecting art worthy of its ancient lineage, the Paris of yesterday-that is, the Paris of immediately before the war--offered her visitors the puerile effronteries of these harlequins, delighting through their very ineptitude a public avid of new sensations. Unbridled realism and cleverness had run their course, and the jaded critics found refreshment in pretense of naiveté and in willful bungling .

One protests that these things are merely the froth of the annual exhibitions, that there is always a great body of good work, less obtrusive because decent. The serious masters toiled on unmoved, and the epidemic would speedily have run its course. This is doubtless true, but the fact remains that there has been for some time a weakness in French sculpture far more real and more deplorable than any sporadic attack of "cubism" or “vorticism." This is the unmonumental character of French monuments. If I permit myself to criticize, it is because my love for the nation and for its art is well known. An inconsistency in a friend is so trying; a blemish in a splendid character is so conspicuous! However great one's admiration for modern French sculpture, it must be confessed ,that recent French memorials-Parisian' and provincial alike-- are as a rule tawdry and in poor taste. Qne can count on his fingers the distinguished works erected in Paris since 1900; the ignoble "stunts" given eternalizaton there within the last few years are too many to catalogue. A magazine of the capital recently inaugurated a symposium on "The Ugliest Monument in Paris." The returns were abundant and enthusiastic. At least thirty prominent writers responded, and the frank avowal of their feelings was reassuring to one who had feared that they really liked these things. Unquestionably the best sculptors of our time, these masters of form have produced a monumental art more formless than can be found anywhere else excepting in Italy. Professor Mather has well said: "To regain the lost capacity for monumental design is the problem of modern art in whatever branch." Nowhere does one so realize the truth of this utterance as when passing in review the recent memorials of France.

We should not hold Rodin personally responsible for the present decadence any more than we can charge the decline of the Italian Renaissance to Michelangelo. We must recognize, .however, that the exalted position. Of the master made his Influence all-powerful. His peculiarities and weaknesses were more easily copied than his real. inherent strength, the growth of a lifetime. So the lesser men followed, developing with enthusiasm any license encouraged by such high example.

Rodin's carelessness of' the silhouette was gratefully emulated by an army of young sculptors and by not a few of the older men as well. Dalou's tribute to Delacroix (Fig. 63) in the Luxembourg Gardens is an unhappy tribute to Rodin also in that it is one of the most offensive and pernicious examples of his methods.


Its erection marks an important milestone in the decadence of French monumental art, for its influence has been immense. It was the sculptor-anarchist's protest against the established order; in it every principle of dignified memorial art was overturned and derided. The stolid bust of the painter is assailed by a fat figure of "Fame," a nude female of adventurous mien, who endeavors to climb his slender pedestal in order to decorate him. Her voluptuous form is precariously supported by a violent "Father Time" who, taxed to the utmost, is encouraged by Apollo with outstretched, applauding hands. The spiral composition is ingenious, but these tumultuous acrobatics are undignified and irritating. There is no sense of eternity where Time plays such pranks.

After the "Delacroix" the present generation followed pell-mell. M. Puech, once so promising, showed steady decline from that early and beautiful work of his, "The Muse of Andre Chenier" (Fig. 67), in the Luxembpurg. His "Siren" (Fig. 69) was all wings and waves and ,fishtails, picturesquely incoherent.



His famous relief, 'The Nymph of the Seine,'" a dainty and fragile nude of most personal look, was "too true to be good "~too faithful to the model to be very noble sculpture. Such things may perhaps be excusable in relief, protected as they are by the conventions of that delicate form of art, but they mark a dangerous tendency.

Even in the beauty of the relief, "The Vision of Saint Anthony," I find a threatening symptom. When clouds begin to appear in sculpture, then beware! Waves are sufficiently perilous, but the marble clouds which incrust the walls and columns of so many Jesuit churches of
Europe are like the fungi which they resemble, the symbols of melancholy decay.

.The recent public works of M. Puech are lamentable. A class memorial in a manual-training school (Fig. 68) shows a saucy Parisienne, quite nude, of course, seated upon an anvil and toying with a pair of pincers. The blithe young lady of the up-to-date coiffure is a perfect embodiment of assurance and inadequacy. Imagine intelligent toil personified in such guise!

This popular sculptor has done another thing quite as ludicrously unfortunate. His monument to a certain Admiral Garnier (Fig. 70), on the Avenue de l'Observatoire, shows a portrait bust of a hero of oriental seas rising from a surging tangle of Tritons and mermaids, waving arms, palm branches, and carved paddles. Confusion reigns. The very commonplace admiral with the Dundreary side-whiskers seems to find it impossible to conceal a look of polite inquiry in the face of this sculptural explosion

Another of M. Puech's fantastic performances of recent date is a monument-or shall I say a merry-go-round dedicated to Charles Perrault, a writer for children .(Fig 77).

M. Larche carved some time ago a delightful group, "Les Violettes," three little children, exquisitely tender and poetic. The same sculptor's monument to Corot (Fig .71), recently erected, is a trivial conception a bust of the great painter upon a formless pedestal, built apparently of clouds; then the inevitable nude woman, ostensibly paying homage to the bust but in reality playing hide and seek with the public. She is not one of Corot's vaporous idealizations, but evidently a portrait of the little minx who posed for the figure. One feels that the honest old paysagiste would have been embarrassed by the juxtaposition.


Gauquie, in his memorial to Watteau (Fig. 72), has a better excuse for his playful treatment of the theme. The master of beribboned sheep and charmingly impossible shepherdesses could not be more fitly honored than by a monument of Sevres or Dresden ware. One would imagine this little lady right off from a mantelpiece. In Verlet's "Maupassant" (Fig. 73) we have modern realism in all its glory. Every article of wearing apparel is satisfactorily accounted for. Maupassant would have been gratified.

One of the funniest of the series so opportunely interrupted by the war is a monument of admirable workmanship erected in the city of Dijon:a few years ago in memory of the old-time poet Piron (fi,g. 74). This pious tribute of a descendant is too much even for the stone image, which joins sympathetically in the laugh. The climax is perhaps reached in a proposed memorial to Rabelais (Fig. 75), which at the opening of the war was about to be erected in Nimes. Should the project be forever thwarted the cataclysm of nations will have one good mark to its credit.

When a sculptor of Mercie's talent celebrates a brother artist as he did Baudry (Fig. 64); when an acknowledged master like Barrias closes his artistic career with such a paroxysm in metal as he created to the memory of Victor Hugo {Figs. 65 and 66); when Fremiet undertakes to immortalize Raffet (Fig. 78) with a bronze joke of a grenadier chasing himself around a post, one must recognize that the weakness is inherent in the ideals of the time. Simplicity, serenity, dignity -all those qualities of a truly monumental art have disappeared to make way for violence and vociferation. That precious "hint of eternity" which is sculpture's greatest asset has been completely eliminated.



Ingenious variations of the well-worn motif may be found in a number of recent public monuments in Paris and the provincial cities. The veteran Mathurin Moreau in 1907 received the medal of honor of the Salon for his "Pierre Joigneaux" (Fig. 82), now at Beaune. Imagine this sculptured valentine in the city which possesses Rude's superb "Monge"! It is, however, a dignified 'work compared to the monument to Carnot (fig. 79) of the same city. Pierre Roche has cleverly elected to have his attendant figures carry the bust of Dalou (Fig. 81) until a suitable pedaestal be provided. One wishes that the support were a little more assured; the nude figure is too evidently straining under its burden.



An "intellectual" among the French sculptors is Gustave Michel, whose regal "La Pensee" and graceful "Le Reve" have long been favorites of the Luxembourg collection. His memorial to Jules Ferry (Fig. 5) is a perfunctory and empty group which blockades a path in the Garden of the Tuileries to the outspoken irritation of the public. On the other hand Champeil's "Benjamin Godard" (Fig. 84) is not lacking in distinction. Mercie's '.'Gounod" (Fig. 87) is one of the most interesting and significant of these compositions, explaining itself at a glance. Its light touch has charm if not power. Saint-Marceaux’s "quality of unexpectedness" seldom failed him. His “Dumas Fils" (Fig. 88) is a great favorite, but is fragile compared with his "Daudet" (Fig. 90). This admirable creation is completely unacademic without being bizarre. It points the way to a monumental art on new and striking lines. Of the same type is Sicard's "George Sand" (Fig. 89) in the Luxembourg Garden, to be spoken of later. The Barbey memorial (Fig. 83) by the same sculptor has not been surpassed in recent years; of it likewise I shall have more to say.



Falguiere's valedictory, "Henri de la Rochejaquelin" (Fig. 91), is very fine. Its subtle blend of the gentleman of fashion and the fiery defender of the country is a triumphant expression not only of the great sculptor who gave it form but of a great people. One perceives today that this reminiscent work was grandly prophetic. Falguiere was not always so inspired. In fact the word inspiration seems a little out of place in connection with an artist whose theme was generally the flesh. Brownell has told us that he was at his best in subjects "frankly carnal." We all know his splendid travesty on the chaste Diana (Fig. 92)-that magnificent piece of modeling, with name so incongruous. A large photograph of his "Woman with a Peacock" (Fig. 93) was, I remember, the chief decoration of MacMonnies' Parisian studio, treasured like a sacred ikon.’ It was a beautifully simplified study of a model, but in his figure of a well-known dancer (Fig. 94) he neglected to generalize. As has been well said of this painstaking record, portraiture could go no farther!



For good or evil these men of enormous ability wield a corresponding influence; a nation’s art is largely shaped by them. Behold what such example did to Carles (Fig. 99), and Cordonnier (Fig. 100), and Picault!
Cordonnier was in my day counted one of the most promising of the young men. He had made a fine “ Joan of Arc” and other things of essential worth; now in his maturity he offers us such rubbish as his hysterical “Song.” It is laughable, but to me strangely pathetic.
A striking illustration I recall. Away back in the early eighties, when Rodin was beginning to attract much attention, I met a young pupil of his, Mlle Camille Claudel. If ever youth bore the look of genius and inspiration it was to be read in the face of that slender, lovely girl. Her talent was evident in everything which she produced. A fine head of her brother as “A Young Roman” revealed the great promise within her. When, some ten years later I was in Paris and saw her represented by that poor little curiosity, “The Gossips” (Fig 95), I was sadly chagrined. To think that daily intercourse with “the Master” should have brought such results
But the end was not yet. I had not seen “The Waltz” (Fig. 96)! This was followed by “The Ripe Age” (Fig. 97), a sculptural horror. Its title is a misnomer; it is far past ripeness. And finally we have that work of insanity, “Clotho” (Fig. 98), a combination of the tragedy of Rodin's dreadful "Heaulmiere" and the upright corpse of Ligier-Richier. Poor little Camille had run her course!


Another pitiful exhtbition of decadence of ideals if not of craftsmanship is shown in the veritable rake's progress of Charpentier. His early success, "Illusion," was a figure of much beauty. His next offering, the "Shooting Star," was perhaps quite as well modeled, but suggests a clock top. This was followed by "Voluptuousness" (Fig. 102), skillfully done but hardly a great sculptural thought; and finally the world was gladdened by "The Bicycle" (Fig. 101), which all too loudly speaks for itself. Perhaps it is as well that we have no later works to present.


These examples are significant because they are not the productions of ignorant beginners; most of them are the mature expressions of the leaders and men of standing in modern sculpture. Still others have emulated Rodin in eager portrayal of primitive passions, vulgarizing with insistent familiarity the most sacred things in life. Insensible to the charm and poetry of suggestion, such crude disciples of modernism picture all with a brutal frankness that repels. Sculpture has become taxidermy, and their stuffed men and women lack only 'color and real hair to vie with the wax tableaux of ethnological and surgical museums.

After such a review of the pre-war output of the Parisian studios one is able to understand the, warning of that great artist and seer, Albert Bartholome, whose noble monument, "Aux Morts" (Fig. 17), you have seen at Pere-Lachaise. “There will be no new Reraissance of French sculpture," says he, until the young; modelers turn once more to the limestone of which'the cathedrals were built, and carve great, simple figures iri it, as did the medieval masters." His keen artist mind realized that only through the exigencies of such material might be developed in France a grave and simple art, a new school of sculpture.

And this very thing is happening. The word of Bartholome is coming true. Just as his great vision of humanity's eternal sequence reaches beyond the grave, so we find even in the midst of France's agony a promise of a glorious resurrection. A group of her younger men began some years ago to " carve great, simple figures" in the Paris limestone. Their achievements have been notable; their promise for the future is still greater.

Before speaking of such conspicuous insurgents as Maillol, Bourdelle, and the more reasonable Bouchard, I wish to emphasize the fact that there has always existed a group of sane,' sincere, and diligent craftsmen who, according to their varying tastes and intelligence have upheld the reputation of French sculpture.

[mountshang]

Well --- here's the final installment of Taft's essay on "Modern French Sculpture".

I guess it's not really back by popular demand --- it doesn't appear that the sculpture of this period (1890-1920) is very popular here -- even if if it does to connect pretty much to the entire range of historical European sculpture: Classical-Medieval-Baroque-Naturalistic-Romantic etc.


What I like about Lorado Taft is that he sees a lot of sculptors (many of whom are entirely new to me) – he knows what he likes – he knows how to make what he likes – and if he says that he likes something, I am sure that he really does – regardless of its reputation.

(and some these sculptors have dropped completely under the radar.
Whatever happened to Mille Jeanne Hanin, for example ?)

He has a wholesome, Midwestern, abiding dislike for trends and the trendy people who make them -- though that sometimes is a problem for me -- since some of those trendy guys (Despiau-Bourdelle-Maillol) still appeal to me.

I also don't share his enthusiasm for narrative -- i.e. I'm engaged more by the space than by the story -- although, like him, I require both to hold my interest.

Perhaps we could say that these two concerns need to be balanced -- and trying to achieve that balance is the history of this period -- an attempt that really hasn't been made in American/Western European contemporary sculpture after 1950 -- of either the high-brow artworld kind -- or the middle-brow cowboys-Indians-acrobats-cute children etc.

For the text plus pictures -- visit my blog at:

http://mountshang.blogspot.com/2006/10/modern-french-sculpture-part-3.html

Have fun ! (I hope)
.................................................. .................................................. ..............




"Before speaking of such conspicuous insurgents as Maillol, Bourdelle, and the more reasonable Bouchard, I wish to emphasize the fact that there has always existed a group of sane,' sincere, and diligent craftsmen who, according to their varying tastes and intelligence have upheld the reputation of French sculpture.


One of the most ingenious and poetic of these men is Jean Dampt, whose little “Saint Jean” and “l’Aleule” have long adorned the Luxembourg. In the latter work he recognizes Rodin's great discovery of the contrasts possible in marble-cutting, yet shows no hint of exaggeration or sensationalism. Such virtues of reticence have always been the attributes of a considerable number; amid the annual riot of inanities one finds now and then a beautifully modeled figure like Dagonet's "Eve" (Fig. 106) or Lefevre's "Happiness" (Fig. 105), works of most conscientious and !ntelligent execution. Another truly, sculptural utterance is Ernest Dubois' version of the prodigal's return, called "The Pardon" (Fig. 104).


"The Two Mourners" (Fig. 109) by Riviere is an appealing group which illustrates the present tendency of the sculptor to "keep the work white." The phrase is only another way of describing the subordination of non- essentials, the suppression of dark shadows, the emphasis of the mass. Obviously this is advantageous from several points of view; not least of these being the elimination of purely realistic and insignificant details, with consequent enhancement of essentials. In the hands of a beginner "full of enthusiasm and ignorance" the result may be like the "Child with a Balloon" (Fig. 111) by a young lady modeler, who has produced little else but "whiteness." Tisne's portrait-study, "Tout en Fleurs" (Fig. 110), shows not only grace but a charming tonality, while Vermare in his "Pierrot" (Fig. 108) has given us a real tour de force. You could tell that Pierrot was dressed in white by the very" feel" of the statue though you were in the dark!


It was Roger-Bloche who modeled "Le Froid" (Fig. 112), that unhappy pair whom you may have seen shivering on a hot summer day at the entrance of the Luxembourg. Some years ago this artist employed his unusual talents in "L'Accident" (Fig. 114), a circle of detached figures gathered around a workman apparently fallen at a street corner.. It was a bit of journalism of wonderful skill and characterization, but having no more sculptural intent than the most childish of our own John Rogers' early "groups." Probably it was but an experiment -- an adventure in panoramic art---for the sculptor gloriously redeemed himself the next year with a work of concentrated emotion called "The Child" (Fig. 113).


Strange it is that gifted men should expend months of toil upon hopelessly unsculptural themes. Lefebre's relief, "Springtime" (Fig. 115), for instance, shows three young couples in realistic modern costume walking up the side of a great block of marble. These romantic pairs are separated by some space and evidently desire more; as a composition they have no relation to one another. "Aux Champs" (Fig. 116) by Guillaume represents a peasant with a wheelbarrow heaped high with hay. He is followed at a respectful distance by his faithful wife, and there is apparently no structural reason why the procession should not include a dozen children, dogs, and farm animals strolling in, all as casual as a baby's arrangement of its Noah's ark figures. "Grape-Gathering in Champagne" (Fig. 117) includes a considerable portion of the vineyard. Doubtless the composition would be even more scattered today! But why multiply illustrations? I have no desire to make this book a collection of warnings.



Some of the genuinely able men who have recently compelled attention in Paris are not altogether to our provincial taste. The reaction against highly finished and realistic work has been so pronounced that primitive methods like those of Maillol afford sharp contrast to much already shown. For a time this gifted experimenter affected an absurd naivete, which from the well~trained hand of such an artist was like baby talk on the lips of an adult. Later works ring more true. I rather like his "Flora" (Fig. 121), although she has fallen upon pitiful, meager times. The elementary power of his well~known relief of two kneeling figures is instantly recognizable. The "Seated Woman" (Fig. 118) and the "Crouching Woman" (Fig. 120), likewise, have a massive majesty which is founded upon truth; they are not like Gaudier's inflated monsters. These are simply studies well begun which have been arrested in their development.

A sculptor of unusual vitality and of unlimited vogue is Emile Bourdelle. He would seem to be the direct successor of Rodin, whose portrait he has made to look like a Triton or Silenus (Fig. 122). Such works as the sketchy " Mother and Child" (Fig. 124), the masterful "Ingres" (Fig. 123), and the brooding "Beethoven" (Fig. 125)



are more attractive than his pet "Hercules" (Fig. 128), the charm of which I fail to appreciate. I find myself less cold toward the reliefs of the Theatre of the Champs Elysees (Figs. 126 and 127) which, it must be acknowledged, do play their part well upon the massive front of the building. What would Clodion and Bouchardon have said to such petrified rag time? Admirably harmonious with the architecture, they are of course quite justifiable, but some of us are so conservative that we prefer the rhythms of Jean Goujon or of the Greeks.

Another man of remarkable power is Paul Landowski. His primitive builder, known as "TheArchitect" (Fig. 129), is not the conception of a weakling; there is nothing lackadaisical nor anemic about such art as this! An even more original work by the same sculptor is called “The Sons of Cain" (Fig. 130). One of these figures is supposed to represent the primitive shepherd, another the ancient blacksmith with his treasured flame, and the third the original poet of the race. As devoid of complicated line as Rodin's "Burghers of Calais," it is nevertheless a virile work of unusual strength. The "Hymn to Aurora" at first glance is pure realism-two nude figures which look like casts from nature, standing side by side. There must be more there, however, for these primeval worshipers are unforgettable in their sincerity.

Greatest of this new generation, in my humble judgement, is that adventurous but well balanced genius, Henry Bouchard, who early commanded attention through his prize-winning model for the Reformers' Memorial. (Fig. 131), a work recently erected in Geneva. After the monuments of Paris, with which you have been regaled, you can imagine the sensation created by this austere design when it appeared some fifteen years ago. It is built into the ancient city walls and forms one of the most impressive of Europe's sculptural records.

A group of stalwart " Iron-Workers" had come earlier. They are superbly modeled and powerful in movement but there is a forced balance in the composition, an obviously studied symmetry, which smacks of the Beaux- Arts. From this the young master has since completely emancipated himself in a series of most original and varied works.
Here, for instance, is his memorial (Fig. 135) to four victims of an aeronautic accident of some years ago. No wealth of elaboration, no tangled allegory, could surpass the appeal of these silent sleepers.

This "Blacksmith in Repose" (Fig. 134) looks little enough like the traditional objet de Paris of our mantels. Its author is not concerned with the superficial graces, but what a satisfying expression of physical adequacy is found here! The bronze, somewhat larger than life, is a prized possession of the Metropolitan Museum of New York.

One of Bouchard's most original and most fascinating figures is his "Master Workman" (Fig. 133), carved in that same Paris limestone. He is supposed to be one of the many nameless masters of the craft who produced the miracles of Gothic art. I am mistaken; he has a name--Pierre de Montereau-and he built the Sainte Chapelle for good Saint Louis. In the delightfully sculptural garments of his day, with clumsy plumb-bob and level at hand, he sits upon a waiting block, his eager eye following the growth of climbing spire or buttress. The simplicity of the conception is refreshing; the result highly statuesque.

It is not strange that this figure should have led to another, an ideal portrait of an old-time sculptor. In this case who could have better claim to recognition than the sturdy Flemish-Burgundian, Claus Sluter (Fig. 137),

he of the "Fountain of Moses" and the splendid monuments to Philip the Hardy at Dijon? No data exist; the portrait is quite fanciful, but it is certainly one of the most picturesque and vivid of all sculptured effigies.

I fear I shall not convince you of the beauty of Bouchard's "Fishermen" (Fig. 136).


The group is not beautiful according to any conventional rule; yet to me in its strong, solid mass it is one of the most interesting things upon my list. "

And then, when you have just decided that our hero has gone over entirely to the joys of characterization- that he has forever turned his back upon grace and charm -we find him doing something as astonishingly refined and classic as this fountain group, "Girl with a Gazelle" (Fig. 146).


It gave me such a surprise that at first I could not believe it from the same hand. I am so glad that he did it!

Francois Sicard unites with the traditional cleverness of the French sculptor a vigorous imagination. He has shown from year to year a succession of important works -serious, impressive things which justified the labor put upon them. And the labor has not been spared, for all are in marble and wonderfully wrought. One portrays "The Good Samaritan" bearing his helpless burden. Finer still is the "Hagar and Ishmael" (Fig. 103).




The artist had received the Prix de Rome in 1891., and this dramatic group was his first envoi. The mother has laid her perishing boy upon a rocky ledge and while supporting him there hides her agonized face from his misery. The subtle modeling of the nude bodies is enhanced by the contrasting background of rugged rock. To a sculptor this range of treatment suggests the laborious evolution of soft flesh from the shapeless boulder-that unwilling genesis which Rodin has so often illustrated in the gamut of his great works. Here, however, we find no eccentricities, no exaggerations, no contortions; the group is simple and direct, full of feeling and masterly in its every touch. It won a first medal at the Salon, and one feels that, that year at least, the distinction must have been fitly bestowed.

At the Salon of 1905 Sicard received the medal of honor for his memorial to George Sand (Fig. 89), previously mentioned.


This fine presentment of the writer offers with admirable precision the head and striking features of the subject carved in a large, simple way while the remainder of the figure is "thrown out of focus" as it were-subordinated with a nice sense of discrimination, yet without a suspicion of weakness in the drawing.

Another most satisfactory work of Sicard's which has also been referred to is his memorial to M. Barbey (Fig. 83), a philanthropist of Mazamet.


Here he incorporated a number of appealing character studies and has skillfully avoided the ever-present danger of making the actors likewise spectators. These humble beneficiaries of the generous giver whom they honor are at their ease and most natural, yet the sculptor has made them a part of the monument. In many of the preceding examples there has been a suggestion of a breathless pose-a tableau that would fall apart as soon as an imagined curtain went down. Here, however, is no threat of such catastrophe; these figures have a structural and loyal part in the composition. I cannot say as much of the same artist's big panoramic group of the Pantheon. A recent trifling fancy, a "Scarf Dancer" (Fig. 142), by Sicard has so much charm, such Gothic naiveté, that it must be admitted to our record.



Charles Despiau has a group of devotees, for whom his primitive heads are the acme of interpretation. To attempt to analyze their appeal would be to profane them. I shall therefore let "Paulette" (Fig 150) speak for herself. If she only could do so 1 am sure that one would hear her addressing "La Femme Inconnue" as "Tante" if not "Maman"!

Another discovery rewarding my search for the quaint and unusual is the work of Rene Quillivic. His interest in his home people is not wasted. Very well worth doing was his "Breton Embroiderer" and the delightful "Petite Bigoudaine" (Fig. 147),




while his "Breton Mourners" (Fig. 140) are so completely in the spirit of their tragic corner of the earth that they might almost have stepped down from an ancient "calvaire" of Finistere. Is it one of their sailor dead whom they lament, these labor-worn, stiff-draped figures?


Perhaps we have him here in this strange group by Cordonnier (Fig. 141). But no; these are foundrymen bearing the victim of an accident. What a striking and original composition it makes! Cordonnier is retrieving himself. Related in spirit is another work, "Consolation" (Fig. 139) by F. David;





a group of truly sculptural intent combined with a gracious tenderness which has not been overdone and turned into sentimentality.

The same breadth of handling we find in "Le Soir" (Fig. 148) by Jacquot.

This may be a tiny statuette, but it has the quality of work largely conceived. A real master of. his craft is Jules Desbois. His "Winter" (Fig. 144)


is but one among a hundred beautiful and expressive figures bearing his name, while in "La Source"-another familiar theme-we have a beautiful composition and such richness of modeling, such complete ness of fulfilment, as must win the quick admiration of sculptors of every land.

A companion to Bouchard's "Master Builder" in the court of the Louvre is Roux's portrait of Poussin (Fig. 138),


an excellent characterization, large and simple in handling, as it must be for the limestone in which it is so ably carved.

Michel's monument to Beethoven (Fig. 145) in the Salon of fateful 1914 was very impressive.


Two other works of that year claim recognition. One is Monard's elegiac "Aux Aviateurs" (Fig. 149).


How widely must those eagle wings spread today to protect the myriad dead who received their summons amid the clouds!

The other is this "Fra Angelico" (Fig. 143).


I saw it first pictured in a foreign magazine, and later the original appeared with the French exhibit at San Francisco. I tried to get someone to buy it for the Art Institute-and it has found a resting-place in the Detroit Museum! It is only a small bronze, but to me this little effigy of a monk ~ a big work. The sculptor is. not Bouchard, but Jean Boucher, of whom I know nothing except that he made it. The figure has all of the dignity and reticence which a portrait statue should possess as its very first essential -- the quality so generally lacking in recent monuments in France. That it should be one of the latest expressions of French sculpture is an omen full of promise.

It was the writer's somewhat melancholy privilege to see the Salon of 1919. The exhibit was a brave attempt on the part of the artists, but its poverty revealed the fact that the "devastated area" was not all at the front. The victory which at so staggering a cost had finally come to a tormented land was not here celebrated by means of beautiful ideas worthily realized but through familiar conventional symbols. As wrote one of their critics: "The sculpture show is more like a barnyard than an art exhibition; the Gallic cock crows from every pedestal." The suggestions for military memorials were almost without exception banal; evidently the big men had not yet begun to collect their thoughts.

Nevertheless, even in that trying hour of exhaustion and lassitude, there were to be discovered occasional works of great value. Three busts of singular vividness and simplicity of treatment left pleasant memories and deserve mention.


One showed an old woman with closed eyes (Fig. 151), a portrait lovingly modeled and carved by Marcel Jacques. Another represented a man en- grossed in a book (Fig. 153), by Maurice Favre. The legitimate realism of the gray rock, the odd cap, and above all, the reader's look of concentration in the midst of so much vehemence-living and simulated- in which he was engulfed, made this work very conspicuous.

Most notable, however, was the bust of an abbe carved in porous stone (Fig. 152). Absolutely free from uncertainty, without a faltering stroke, this austere characterization stands ,out in memory as the dominant sculpture of the Salon of 1919. What was one's surprise to find it signed by a woman---Mille Jeanne Hanin. A nation showing craftsmanship like this and such virility in the work of its women will not rest long in eclipse. France will continue to lead the world in "the arts of space and time." "

[fused]

In that time period (1913) more modern tendencies were discussed (http://www.historymatters.gmu.edu/d/5565/) (and debated (http://sunsite.berkeley.edu/Goldman/Curricula/ArtLiterature/armoryshow.html)) in association with the International Exposition of Modern Art (http://xroads.virginia.edu/~MUSEUM/Armory/armoryshow.html) --The Armory Show-- that introduced European innovations and art ideas to America.

John Quinn opened that exhibition (http://www.askart.com/AskART/interest/new_york_armory_show_of_1913s_1.aspx?id=15) with the words:
“The members of this association have shown you that American artists –young American artists, that is- do not dread, and have no need to dread, the ideas or the culture of Europe. They believe that in the domain of art only the best should rule. This exhibition will be epoch making in the history of American art. Tonight will be the red-letter night in the history of not only American but of all modern art…..(we) felt it was time the American people had an opportunity to see and judge for themselves concerning the work of the Europeans who are creating a new art.”…..

[mountshang]

Thanks, Fused, I'd never taken a tour of the Armory show before.

Lots of George Barnard -- I love him ! (and wish he had a piece in
Chicago). Two American sculptors were completely unfamiliar to me:
Nessa Cohen and Ethel Myers.

Has anyone else ever heard of them ?

And I loved those critical essays by Roosevelt and Cox.

I never realized TR was such a man of culture (assuming that since
this piece was written after his presidency, he wrote it himself)

I agree with him -- and with just about everything said by that pipe smoking
Kenyon Cox -- though he couldn't foresee that -- rather than
abandoning the modernist trend -- what got abandoned was the notion of
"art" as anything other than a trend.(albeit one that's validated
by prestigious institutions) Who could have predicted the spineless cupidity of the American university to march lock-step with the marketplace ?

It all made a fine read - thankyou

[BobClyatt]

Ive been through Galleries A and B, but I think there is sculpture (eg Lehmbruck's Kneeling Woman that comes in for such scorn by Teddy Roosevelt) spirited away in other galleries. Short of doing a really long tour of the 1300 pieces in the Armory Show, anybody know of a clever way to quickly find the sculpture in the other rooms?

St Eberle's sculpture White Slave is shocking and poignant-- wow. It was nearly banned in 1913...