“WHENEVER MEN ARE NOBLE THEY LOVE BRIGHT COLOUR, AND
WHEREVER THEY CAN LIVE HEALTHILY, BRIGHT COLOUR
IS GIVEN THEM IN SKY, SEA, FLOWERS, AND LIVING
CREATURES”
_RUSKIN_
EUGÈNE Carrière is one of those great artists so prolific in France who
alone would make the fame of any ordinary country. For his work the
writer has always had deep sympathy, and this feeling has strengthened
since the days when he copied the works of the master now in the
Luxembourg. There can be no better method of studying any artist, and
specially is it needed in the case of such a painter as Carrière. It is
only during the long patient hours spent in trying to reproduce in
facsimile these strange elusive pictures that one can grasp their
technical qualities, their poetic intention, their thoughtful nature,
and can fully recognise the fine achievement of the artist. As the
copyist stands and works for hours, thinking, reasoning, reproducing,
the whole history of the man and his art slowly reveals itself.
It has been said of Carrière that he has “le génie de l’œil,” and it is
exactly this “genius of the eye” which constitutes the bond of sympathy
between all Impressionists. There exists between Carrière, Pointelin,
and Whistler, the greatest similitude. Their outlook upon nature is
identical, and their method of expression most characteristic. They have
found their chief inspiration in rendering misty veiled effects,
sometimes the result of natural means, haze, moonlight, river mist,
early sunrise; sometimes purposely arranged by means of darkened
interiors, and the skilful control and exclusion of strong lights. In
each case the result sought after is the same.
Carrière possesses, in almost the highest possible degree, the power of
visualisation (one is nearly writing the power of second sight) which
Claude Monet also has, though in a different degree. The first has
caught in an entrancing style the infinitely varied degrees of luminous
light in the evening twilight. He has painted the shadows of shades. The
second, in an equally fascinating manner, has rendered the shadows of
sunlight. In the works of both artists all exact contours are lost; in
Carrière by reason of the semi-obscurity of night, in Monet because of
the blinding equalising glare of noon-day sun. The one is as apparently
colourless as the other is apparently exaggerated. Yet both are right,
true to nature and to their own individual temperaments, in fact true
Impressionists.
As a portraitist Eugène Carrière has no rival at the present moment. His
marvellous powers of vision have placed him in a position unassailable.
The ordinary portraitist, the painter “à la mode” (probably “à la mode”
for this very reason), depicts the superficial aspect of his sitter,
together with a photographic delineation of the features. Whilst the
onlooker wonders at the dexterous skill, the clever schooling and
frequent harmonies of colour, he generally passes on unmoved. With
Carrière the effect is different; one cannot easily leave such triumphs.
On the contrary, we stay to admire, not the technical gymnastics of the
artist, but the subtle superhuman manner in which the soul of the sitter
has been transferred to the canvas by the brush of a man of rare genius.
His lithographs too are marvellous. Should any reader carp at the use of
such word let him carefully examine the portrait-studies of Anatole
France, Rodin, Verlaine, Daudet, Geffroy, Madame Carrière, and the
artist himself, also the _Christ at the Tomb_, the _Théâtre de
Belleville_, _Maternité_, and many others. The more these great works
are studied the more real they become. Daudet lives again in a drawing
recreating the great novelist in a peaceful atmosphere of dreams which
seems to remain the peculiar secret of the artist. Eugène Carrière
becomes a clairvoyant when he commences a portrait.
His paintings of the intimate life of the family, the circle round the
fireside or the little gatherings in the common room during a winter
evening, have a quiet charm which his contemporaries rarely attain. Such
groups, it may be said, find little favour from those who issue
commissions for family heirlooms, and Carrière has no chance of becoming
a fashionable painter of human mediocrity. One remembers though that Mr.
Sargent has proved recently that even with mediocrity a genius can do a
great deal. Carrière, however, is never likely to wish to rival Bonnat
or Carolus-Duran. His scenes are not so much represented as suggested.
His drawing is a reproduction of the play of light upon the different
planes of the subject, the whole picture becoming a symphonic
development of light. His brush manipulates colour much as a sculptor
manipulates clay, and the results are real Impressions.
[Illustration:
AUGUSTE POINTELIN
]
[Illustration:
THE FAMILY · EUGÈNE CARRIÈRE
]
Eugène Carrière has been inspired by no particular school, and has no
special theories to regulate his methods. Yet, in spite of himself, a
group, animated by his ideals, has gathered and formulated rules. This
group and its system will have but a short duration, for an art so
personal and distinguished as is that of Carrière cannot in any possible
way be transmitted to pupils or followers. Carrière occupies in painting
much the same position as his friend Rodin occupies in sculpture. Such
art is not to be copied, much as it may be admired. If there could be
any analogy in literature one would cite Edgar Allan Poe. The poet of
the shadows has had an enormous influence upon French art and
literature, and Carrière has undoubtedly come under his strange spell.
[Illustration:
MOTHERHOOD · EUGÈNE CARRIÈRE
]
Much has been written concerning the exhibited works of this artist, and
a bibliography would contain the names of the most celebrated art
critics in Paris. The universal opinion is that in Carrière France
possesses an artist of exceptional endowments. His gift is a peculiar
one, which has not appeared before in exactly the same manner, and,
within his own limitations, the painter’s equal will probably never be
seen again. A well-known writer upon art subjects has penned an
appreciation which conveys a clear insight into the methods of the
master. Carrière, he says, is not an inductive painter, he does not
construct his whole from parts. He does not work on, wisely, cautiously,
from the forehead to the eyes, continuing by way of the cheekbones. In
the manner of a sculptor, he builds up his picture as a complete whole,
he balances his masses, he constructs. Insensibly the face lights up on
the background, the successive veils which enveloped it are torn away
and hide his thoughts no longer. This simultaneous process never leaves
him quite satisfied, and he constantly reviews his original plans. He
lives for the creation to which he gives life. His work is an effort, an
attempt, the result of a mysterious genius whose secret is never all
told. What he knows before is the impression he expects to obtain, what
it will tell, what it will reveal of the character and will express of
the invisible reality. And it is thus he approaches those faces which
speak to us of an intense inner life. His plans settled, he paints
astonishing faces, mobile and quivering as they smile and speak.
A few personal particulars may be added. Eugène Carrière passed his life
up to the age of eighteen in Strasbourg, and displayed no special
inclination toward the artistic career. But a visit to some galleries
awoke the latent fire, and his ambitions were roused. He then entered
the atelier of Cabanel. During the war he was captured by the Germans,
and sent as prisoner to Dresden, where he studied with diligence in the
museums. Upon his return to France in 1872 he worked for five years at
the École des Beaux-Arts (he had been there for a short time before the
war) and then, none too well equipped for the battle, set up in his own
studio. He attempted to gain the Prix de Rome, but failed. Shortly after
followed his marriage, together with a semi-retreat to the Vaugirard,
where he toiled for five years, turning his family to artistic account
as models. These days of unremitting labour proved to be the foundations
of his fame, for, when he returned to Paris, he reaped almost
immediately the fruits of success and appreciation. As we write, the
news comes that the authorities of the Luxembourg have purchased
Carrière’s _Dead Christ_ for £1000.
Auguste Pointelin is a passionate Impressionist in the best sense of the
word. He paints in low tones (almost monotones) the twilight, moonrise,
the sombre and melancholy notes in Nature. He is the poet-painter of
those evening hours when—
The sun is set; the swallows are asleep;
The bats are flitting fast in the grey air;
The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep;
And evening’s breath, wandering here and there
Over the quivering surface of the stream,
Wakes not one ripple from its summer dream.
The artist’s character can be read at a glance from these canvases. We
see at once that he is a strong man, of nervous and romantic
temperament, somewhat a pessimist, perhaps a writer of verse, probably a
fine musician, fond of solitude and reverie, yet of good heart and noble
mind.
Monet is of the lowlands. He worships the plains and paints the sun hot
and keen, and all that it reveals. He revels in depicting great trees,
the lustrous brilliancy of corn and poppies, the bubble and iridescence
of quick-flowing trout-streams, the flash of white cliffs, the luminous
shadows of haycocks, every varying phase of the play of brilliant light
upon the face of responsive nature. Pointelin is a man of the hills,
delighting to work amidst deep wooded glens or lonely tracks of mountain
scenery, trying to reproduce the glints of moonlight upon black
bottomless pools. He loves to depict the tranquillity of the long silent
valleys, through which roll heavy mists, whilst the rising sun tints
with a rosy glow the tips of the neighbouring peaks. Our admiration of
Monet does not blind us to the beauty of Pointelin. In a sense the two
artists are complementary to each other. The art of Pointelin may be
compared to a “Reverie” by Schumann, that of Monet to a “Rhapsody” by
Brahms.
[Illustration:
A GLADE IN THE WOOD · AUGUSTE POINTELIN
]
[Illustration:
MOUNTAIN AND TREES · AUGUSTE POINTELIN
]
[Illustration:
A ROCKY COAST · MAXIME MAUFRA
]
Auguste Emmanuel Pointelin was born at Arbois, June 23, 1839, and the
first art teaching he received was from the hands of M. Victor Maire.
Success was long in coming, and for a livelihood he had to turn to
several other professions, the chief being that of a mathematical
professor.
Pointelin has received the usual honours France awards to her most
distinguished citizens. He has been decorated with the Legion of Honour,
is “Hors Concours” at the Salon, and received (amongst many other like
trophies) the Gold Medals at the Exhibitions of 1889 and 1900. His work
is to be found in many of the public galleries of the country, including
the Luxembourg. The note of his art is a certain refinement and
aloofness which is rarely found in contemporary Salons. Of him it may be
said: “Through his brain, as through the last alembic, is distilled the
refined essence of that thought which began with the gods, and which
they left him to carry out.”
Some time ago the writer was painting by the edge of the Seine in
company with Maxime Maufra, and the artist recounted the origins of his
Impressionist tendencies. “I am directly influenced by Turner and
Constable,” he said. “I admired and studied their works whenever it was
possible during the time I spent as a commercial man in Liverpool twenty
years ago. There is no doubt that Monet, Pissarro, and the others of
that group, owe the greater part of their art to the genius of the great
Englishmen, just as Delacroix and Manet were indebted in a previous
generation.”
This testimony is interesting, as it comes from one of the leaders of
the modern school of “La peinture claire,” the school of light, of life,
and of movement. It is valuable in view of the fact that some of the
artists who have profited most by the valuable example of our men of
genius seem least inclined to acknowledge their debt. For instance,
Pissarro writes: “I have read with great interest your article. I do not
think, as you say, that the Impressionists are connected with the
English school, for many reasons too long to develop here. It is true
that Turner and Constable have been useful to us, as all painters of
great talent have; but the base of our art is evidently of French
tradition, our masters are Clouet, Nicolas Poussin, Claude Lorrain, the
eighteenth century with Chardin, and 1830 with Corot.” This statement is
somewhat at variance with facts as we know them, and does not agree with
several letters from Pissarro in the writer’s possession previously
quoted.
To attempt to record bright open-air effects, to struggle with all the
thousand nuances of the atmosphere, the division of tones, the
juxtaposition of colour, the general principles and technical practice
adopted by the Impressionists, is to come under a ban. There is an old
and well-beloved professor at the Beaux-Arts who taught the writer, a
member of the Institute and Officer of the Legion of Honour, a man of
much official influence, who, in a single phrase, has summed up the
feeling of a large body in France with reference to the Impressionists.
“They are a disgrace to French art,” he said bitterly. Such an
irreconcilable attitude has compelled a section of the younger artists
in France to adopt a style altogether opposite to that discussed in
these pages, a reactionary manner in many cases opposed to their natural
temperaments. They seek in Nature for the slightest cause which will
give them reason for the use of black paint, forgetting that in a world
charged with sun and iridescence the only absolute black that can be
found is in the heart of a bean blossom, which is black only by the
exclusion of the atmosphere. The slightest shadow they paint black, any
dark piece of clothing is rendered in black. They have evolved a
lugubrious funereal style and choice of subject which is sad, dull,
inartistic, dyspeptic. This section of the art community has been named
the “Nubians.”
Maxime Maufra is an adversary fighting this group of reactionaries, and
perhaps his successful example may bring some of these erring ones back
to the fold. He has the courage to paint in a light key, because he sees
all nature in such a value, and by following the dictates of his
artistic temperament he has become the exponent of a beautiful and
personal art. He does not aspire to the position of a little Monet, but
attempts to carry the master’s methods forward. Maufra maintains that
Monet has by no means said the last word in Impressionism. Maufra and
his friends are not content with the first illuminated corner presented
by Nature, which, save for the sense of illumination, is probably
uninteresting and ill-composed. They are equally attracted by beautiful
rhythmic line, balance of form, by composition as well as by colour. The
ethereal tints in nature which the pioneers were happy to reproduce,
does not satisfy the younger men now that the fundamental laws of the
Impressionists have been agreed upon.
[Illustration:
AN ETCHING · MAXIME MAUFRA
]
[Illustration:
ARRIVAL OF THE FISHING BOATS AT CAMARET · MAXIME MAUFRA
]
[Illustration:
MAXIME MAUFRA
]
Born at Nantes in 1861, the only regular art education Maxime Maufra
received was from M. Le Roux, a local professor. His father, a man of
business, decided that the son should follow the same vocation, much to
the son’s disgust. After a few years of preliminary training Maufra was
sent to Liverpool in order that he might acquire the language and
further the commercial interests of his father’s house. Maufra studied
English, more or less, and practised art, copying in the museums and
private collections, and sketching in the neighbourhoods of New
Brighton, Seacombe, and amongst the docks and shipping of the great
port. Business was not neglected, but having effected a lucky “deal”
which placed him in the possession of a little capital, he cut the cable
which joined his life to commerce and sailed into the open sea of art.
His family protested, his friends implored him not to take such a rash
step. Maxime Maufra became a professional artist. For five years he
toiled with his brush, working hard at every different method of
technical expression, trying oils, water-colours, and the etching
needle. Dealers did not come forward, buyers were never seen. At last,
at the very end of his financial resources, he organised a tiny
“one-man” show in Paris.
In the “Echo de Paris” M. Octave Mirbeau published a short criticism,
which voiced the general opinion of Maufra’s talent. “Yesterday,” writes
Mirbeau, “I entered the galleries of de Boutheville, where are exhibited
about sixty works by Maufra. I was immediately conquered, for I found
myself in the presence of an artist in full control of himself, who,
after the necessary indecisions, the usual educational troubles, has
realised that style is the most important thing—in fact, the joy of
art.”
A few of the paintings were sold, enough to cover the expenses of the
exhibition. A better luck awaited Maufra. M. Durand-Ruel casually
glanced into the rooms before the close of the modest collection. He
asked to see the artist. Maufra was in Brittany, and a telegram called
him back to Paris. An interview followed in the Rue Lafitte between
artist and dealer, and never since that day has Maufra known the
anxieties of living on hope, for M. Durand-Ruel, with characteristic
acumen, had arranged for his future.
In the spring of 1901, at the galleries of M. Durand-Ruel, Maxime Maufra
organised his last and most successful exhibition, about fifty canvases
executed in various mediums being shown. From the admirable preface
written by M. Arsène Alexandre, one of the most perspicacious of French
critics, the following lines may be quoted: “Maufra continues in the
school of the Impressionists in this manner, that the _point de départ_
in each of his pictures is in reality a quick and profound impression.
He detaches himself from the school inasmuch as the realisation is a
calculated and skilful art; and this is complete Impressionism.” A final
quotation from the pen of M. Gabriel Mourey in “Le Grand Journal” aptly
sums up the talent of this artist: “One could accuse Maufra at the time
of his first exhibition at the de Boutheville galleries of submitting
himself to the influence of Claude Monet. Already, however, he reveals
his strong personality. Here he is to-day a free man and master of
himself, capable of realising whatever his thoughts impel him to. He has
his own conception of Nature, and he realises it with a liberty and
independence which is veritably masterful. The diversity of his talent
is proved in the most striking fashion. Scotland, Brittany, Normandy are
evoked with an extraordinary facility, the different characteristics of
these three countrysides, their special conditions, their peculiar
atmosphere. They are like portraits in which a soul breathes, in which
the blood runs beneath the skin, where the mystery of being is declared.
The words of Flaubert’s St. Anthony come involuntarily to the lips
before these pictures of Nature, sometimes savage, sometimes in a more
tender mood: ‘There are some spots on earth so beautiful that one wishes
to press Nature against one’s heart.’”
[Illustration]
[Illustration:
SHIPWRECK · MAXIME MAUFRA
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
_Photo by Braun, Clement & Co._
A GLASS OF GOOD RED WINE · J. F. RAFFAËLLI
]