At the present time the task is easier. It is a question of allowing to
everything its own interest, of putting man back in his place, and, if
need be, of doing without him. The moment has come to think less, to aim
less high, to look more closely, to observe better, to paint as well but
differently. This is the painting of the crowd, of the townsman, the
workman, the parvenu, the man in the street; done wholly for him, done
from him. It is a question of becoming humble before humble things,
small before small things, subtle before subtle things; of gathering
them all together without omission and without disdain, of entering
familiarly into their intimacy, affectionately into their way of being;
it is a matter of sympathy, attentive curiosity, patience. Henceforth,
genius will consist in having no prejudice, in not being conscious of
one's knowledge, in allowing oneself to be taken by surprise by one's
model, in asking only from him how he shall be represented. As for
beautifying--never! ennobling--never! correcting--never! These are lies
and useless trouble. Is there not in every artist worthy of the name a
something which sees to this naturally and without effort?
_Fromentin._